#children portrait outdoor

[the-cricket-chirps]

Albert Schnyder, Spielende Kinder, 1950

Albert Schnyder, Le petit carrousel, 1967

[oldfarmhouse]

the weekend🌸🏡🌿🩷

[newfoundlandland]

Portrait: Facing the Wind by Oleh Kh Via Flickr: Fearless kids are facing the wind on the top of the easternmost point of the North America. Height 71m. Cape Spear Lighthouse, Avalon Peninsula near the City of St.John's, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada. Copyright Information © Oleh Khavroniuk (Khavronyuk) oleh.khavronyuk@gmail.com ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No reproduction without the written permission. All images are low resolution. For high resolution images - please don't hesitate to contact me.

[vedupadhyay]

Assignment - Family Portraits

Posting after a while. These portraits I made for was last year for a lovely family. Being a parent myself I can relate to the excitement and struggles that go hand in hand while trying to make kids behave on shoots 🙂 My job is to ensure not to add to the pressure. I give them as much time as possible so they don’t feel pressurized. End result are beautiful moments.

[kaelula-sungwis]

Cute ethiopian girl in front of a purple wall, Harari Region, Harar, Ethiopia by Eric Lafforgue Via Flickr: © Eric Lafforgue www.ericlafforgue.com

[aradxan]

[mysafehaneul]

VII. AQUAMARINE (M)

CHAPTER 7: DIFFERENT PATHS SAME DESTINATION

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 11k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

ANGST, SMUT, FLUFF.

Most of our lives are spent in the search of a meaning, a purpose and often we end up looking for it in the wrong places and forget the fact that it was not about the destination, rather the journey and the people we meet along the way. Because we don’t have small lives, we just start living it a bit late. 

The corridor on the mansion's second floor was a gallery of ornate antique decorations and vases, each with its own story to tell. As Y/N walked through this elegant hallway, Noel was out fishing with the Jeon men and Joon-hee's daughter, enjoying a day of outdoor activities.

The corridor featured high pane windows framed by heavy curtains, ornate walls, and a large portrait of the Jeon family. The portrait depicted Wonwoo's grandparents sitting on a comfortable couch, with their children standing proudly behind them. It was a beautiful representation of a bygone era, and Y/N couldn't help but appreciate the timeless family bond it portrayed. Wonwoo's father stood behind his father, and his aunt stood in the middle, with one hand on her father's shoulder and the other on her mother's. On the other side, Wonwoo's uncle was grinning, with his eyes meeting his father's. The family resemblance was striking, particularly in the similarities between Jungkook and his father.

Y/N's gaze settled on the hands of Wonwoo's grandmother, and she noticed that the elderly lady wore the same ring that now adorned her own finger. It was a connection between generations.

"That's my mother-in-law" Y/N heard a voice behind her making her jump slightly, she turned around to see her mother-in-law standing just a few steps away, her gaze focused on the family portrait.

Sunmi continued with a smile, "Out of her collection, she cherished that ring the most." Her eyes shifted to Y/N's hands, which held the same ring.

Y/N commented, "I see, it is a pretty ring."

Sunmi looked back at the portrait and reflected, "I think more than the beauty, it's the history of the ring that held more significance."

With a turn to face Y/N, she added, "When Wonwoo's grandfather was just 11, his father sent him to her house." Sunmi nodded toward the image of Wonwoo's grandmother. "They were the family of one of the most remarkable goldsmiths of that time. Your grandparents might have known them."

Y/N replied, "They passed away when I was young."

Sunmi expressed her condolences before continuing with the story. "He used to work under her father as an errand boy then as an accountant to support his family. His own father was a loan shark who valued money more than feeding his wife and children." Sunmi's voice carried a mix of sadness and understanding. "Her father held him in high regard, perhaps because he recognized his potential. When my mother-in-law was 16, she fell in love with a local thug and ran away from home when her father found out. But, unfortunately—or fortunately, as life would have it—that thug never showed up at their decided meeting spot."

Sunmi went on, "Omonie's father was highly respected in his community. To save face and preserve their family's reputation, he decided to marry his only daughter to Wonwoo's grandfather and sent them here."

As the story unfolded, Y/N learned about the rich history of the ring she now wore. Sunmi revealed, "Abeonim hated making jewelry, but he was sadly skilled at it. This ring is the first and last piece he designed and made, created solely for his wife. He gave it to her as a symbol of his love, after confessing his feelings to her, of course." Sunmi chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting fond memories.

With a deep breath, Sunmi summed up the heartwarming tale, "She wore it until her deathbed, and much to the dismay of few people, she passed it down to Wonwoo. Funny how sometimes the things we consider as misfortune turn out to be blessings in disguise."

The conversation continued as they made their way toward the grand staircase, and the gentle sunlight filtered through the mansion's windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor.

Sunmi began, "It wasn't until their 30th wedding anniversary that Abeonim told me why that guy couldn't make it; he was busy getting a beating from him."

Y/N chuckled, "You were quite close to them, weren't you?"

Sunmi confessed, "Not initially, but Wooshik was very close to his parents. After my first miscarriage, our family doctor suggested I be around people, and we moved in with them. Some days were more disagreeable then previous one’s but she thought me that ties made out of love can be stronger than of blood if we are ready to bend our knees and let Love take precedence over pride."

They had strolled out of the mansion without realizing it and were now heading towards the greenhouse. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of various-colored iris flowers. These irises painted a mesmerizing display with deep purples and pale blues, their colors dancing under the gentle sunlight. Birds chirped cheerfully, and a pleasant breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees.

Sunmi, her eyes filled with memories, noted, "These are her favorite flowers." She reached out to touch a petal, gently caressing it. "She and Abeonim planted them together."

Sunmi extended her hand to touch a petal of the iris, gently caressing it. As she spoke, her eyes held a mist, like she was transported back in time. "I used to ask her how she knew that she loved him," she began, her voice filled with nostalgia. "She said, Wooshik's father is not a man of many words, but when you look at him closely, you can see his love and consideration woven into every action. Empty promises may sound sweet to the ears, but it's the actions that truly win the heart."

Y/N listened intently, her gaze lowered to the ground. Unbeknownst to her, her thoughts began to drift to the moments she had shared with Wonwoo – him holding her hand in court, refusing to leave her side at dinner until she had finished at least half her meal, sitting next to her on that cramped airplane after their wedding, defending her against Nikolai and even his own parents. These past two months had been a whirlwind, and it felt as though a lifetime of experiences had been crammed into this short time. Y/N found herself questioning when the last time she had genuinely laughed was. When had she last felt like she had someone to lean on when life got heavy?

Her eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation. As she looked up, still lost in thought, she noticed Wonwoo and Noel approaching, accompanied by Jungkook, who held Somi's hand. They were engaged in a lively conversation and carried fishing equipment. Noel sat on Wonwoo's shoulders, a beaming smile on all their faces.

"Y/N," her voice broke through your musings, "misunderstanding is that poison that can spoil even the strongest roots, especially when you pick up words that are hushed in the corners."

You realized that she knew about the disagreement that had taken place between you and Wonwoo the previous day.

"Why are you telling me all this?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Sunmi gazed at you intently for a few moments and then confessed, "I was quick to misunderstand you, your intentions, and even the origins of Noel. I assumed, to the extent of thinking you were barren, and I even questioned the reasons you married my son. You know, I've had some bitter experiences," she emphasized. "But my son made me realize that sometimes, in order to understand someone, you have to step into their shoes, not just view them through your own lens."

She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "My heart goes out to Noel's birth parents and the struggles they must have endured to protect their child from their own family. I am grateful because of you, I am seeing glimpses of the Wonu we lost at 16 after the death of his friend Mingyu. Please forgive me, my darling. I hope we can put the mistakes of the past behind us and make new memories as a family, creating a special place for Noel in both our families and our hearts."

You reciprocated her squeeze, offering a warm smile and nod. However, your mind was racing with questions about what had happened to Wonwoo at 16 and who this mysterious Mingyu was. Underneath the guilt, you couldn't help but wonder how much it would hurt when you and Wonwoo eventually divorced in five years, as per your agreement. The guilt from the conversation with your father-in-law wasn't enough not forgetting the fact the history and rekindling of friendship between him and your mother.

You engaged in a brief conversation, Sunmi updating you on the progress she and your mother made with the upcoming Gala at the end of next month. When, her phone buzzed, signaling that it was time for her medicine and to leave the greenhouse, and you both headed out.

As you emerged from the greenhouse with Sunmi, Wonwoo spotted you and his mother walking together. His brows knitted in confusion at the sight. Sunmi waved goodbye and went in the direction of the pool house, leaving you to continue your journey.

You soon noticed Joon-hee, accompanied by Eleanor, walking together. Joon-hee's daughter, excitedly spotting her, let go of Jungkook's hand and rushed towards her mother, screaming, "Mama!" With a joyful smile, she picked her up in her arms, showering her with kisses.

Meanwhile, Noel, who had been sitting on Wonwoo's shoulders, observed the commotion and excitement. He saw you approaching and couldn't contain his enthusiasm. With a loud, enthusiastic shout, he exclaimed, "Tante!" and waved his little arms energetically. All eyes turned toward you as Noel's excitement drew their attention.

Wonwoo put down his wiggling form, and the little boy immediately darted towards you. You opened your arms, and as he reached you, he threw his little arms around your neck and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"Did you have fun?" you asked softly, your fingers gently caressing his back. The warmth of his embrace filled you with joy.

Noel pulled away from your embrace, his face beaming with enthusiasm. "Grandpa taught me how to hook a worm, and I even helped him reel in," he excitedly recounted in French.

You smiled at his youthful excitement. "That sounds like a lot of fun. What else did you do?" you inquired as you both approached the entrance where the rest of the group was standing.

Noel continued his story, animatedly sharing, "Then, Jk and Dad's hooks got tangled in the water, and they both thought they caught a fish. They started pulling, but when they saw their hooks caught each other, they started fighting. All of us just laughed, and then Grandpa scolded them for fighting and put them in two different corners."

Your attention shifted to Wonwoo as he heard "Dad?" Noel looked at you with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard. But before either of them could respond, Somi chimed in, saying, "Yes, Uncle Jk was pouting the whole time," and she laughed.

Impressed by her fluency in French, you asked, "Wow, Somi, you speak such nice French. Who taught you?"

Somi beamed with pride, responding, "Thank you. Aunt Wonwoo and Mama taught me."

Joon-hee corrected her, saying, "You mean Uncle. Her pronouns are a bit weak."

You offered reassurance, saying, "It's alright, Somi. You'll get the hang of it." The atmosphere was filled with warmth.

"Noona studied in Switzerland, right?" Jungkook asked, then corrected himself, saying, "Sorry, I mean Heyongnim."

You smiled warmly at Jungkook's question. "It's alright, Jungkook, you can call me Noona. Yes, I was mostly based in Switzerland for the last 12 years."

Wonwoo exchanged a curious glance between you and Jungkook, who playfully stuck his tongue out at him.

Joon-hee added, "Well, the four of us," emphasizing herself, Wonwoo, Jungkook, and Eleanor, "we all studied in London."

You nodded in agreement. "Yes, Wonwoo told me about that." He didn't, you read it in his file that Rachel made. 

However, the unexpected voice of Eleanor chimed in, a question that surprised you given her prior lack of interest in your conversations. "Don't you miss your friends and family back home?"

Bending down to Noel's eye level, you glanced at Eleanor with a raised eyebrow but quickly composed yourself, aware of Wonwoo's watchful gaze. "Yes, sometimes I miss my friends from the old school."

You swinged the hand you held and asked, "What about JJ and Vicky?"

He smiled and responded, "Yes, I miss them too, but I talk to them every day."

Eleanor continued with feigned innocence, "And what about your parents?" Her words cut through the air like a sudden chill, and you instinctively tightened your grip on Noel's small hand. Wonwoo, too, glared at her at the same moment, clearly sharing your displeasure. What was her problem? You were about to speak when Noel calmly said, "I do, but Tante says they are always with me," placing his hand on his heart. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded back, reassurance in your eyes.

The atmosphere grew tense, and you could see the muscles in Wonwoo's jaw twitching. Jungkook, always quick on the uptake, chimed in, "Funny how children have more sensibility compared to some adults," his eyebrow arched and a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he glanced at Eleanor. Then he reached his free hand over and ruffled Noel's hair.

"Baby boy, why don't you go inside and ask Mrs. Tham to pack your bag? We'll be leaving after lunch, right?" You looked at Wonwoo, who nodded in agreement. The tension was palpable, and it seemed like a wise decision to change the topic and move forward.

But just as he was about to do so, Somi grabbed his hand and said, "Mama, can't Noel and I have a sleepover?"

Joon-hee sighed and replied, "No, baby, we have to leave as well. You both have school on Monday."

Somi's reaction was swift, like thunder preceding a lightning strike. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she dropped to the ground, wailing loudly. "No! I want to have a sleepover with Noel! I don't want to go home! I want to have a sleepover now! Now! Now!"

"Damn, Joon-hee, your daughter definitely takes after you," Jungkook remarked.

Joon-hee rolled her eyes and snapped, "Shut up, JK."

"Kwon Somi, get up from the ground this instant!" she sternly commanded.

But Somi was having none of it. "NO! NO!!! NO!!! I WILL HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL YOU AGREE!" she declared, puffing out her cheeks defiantly.

You were taken aback by the scene. How come my child never throws a tantrum like that? You gave Joon-hee a thin-lipped, sympathetic smile. She put her hands on her hips and said, "This girl, wait till I tell your father."

"And what's he going to do? Roll on the ground with her?" Jungkook quipped.

Joon-hee glared at Jungkook, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

You crouched down to Somi's level and said, "Hey, Somi, can I tell you something?" The girl, hiccuping now, stopped her wailing and listened. "How about you first get up from the ground? It's dirty and filled with insects and germs, okay?"

Somi remained on the ground. You continued, "Come on, I know you're a good girl. If you'd like, you can come to our place and have as many sleepovers as you like. I'm sure Noel would like that, right, baby?"

Noel remained silent, which left you a bit puzzled. So he wants to have a sleepover too but isn't saying it…

Jungkook clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "How about this: let the kids have a sleepover, and we can have a little drinks around the fire, like the old times."

"No, I can't. I haven't seen my husband in the last two days, and I want to go home," Joon-hee insisted.

Somi started wailing even louder. "Oh, come on, call him here. Just ask him to drop by in his chopper," Jungkook suggested. "Hyung, come on. We rarely get together."

"Noona," he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and a pout.

You turned to Noel and asked, "Do you want to have a sleepover with Somi?" He nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"What do you say, Wonwoo?" you asked, looking at him.

"I'm fine with it if you are," Wonwoo replied. These were the first words you had exchanged since last night.

"Okay, it's settled then. Thank you, Noona, you're the best. Let's head inside," Jungkook exclaimed.

"Joon-hee, call Hoshi hyung. I haven't seen him in a while!" Jungkook added.

Joon-hee retorted, "If you miss him so much, then call him yourself, you ass."

You rose up and gestured inside with your head, saying, "Shall we?" and started walking inside. Jungkook left with the bags, and Eleanor, whom you had forgotten was still standing there, followed Joon-hee.

As you were almost inside, Wonwoo gently grabbed your arm and softly said, "Can we talk?" You looked at him and then back at Noel, who was heading inside. Nodding in agreement, you told Noel, "You go in first, sweetheart."

Noel disappeared into the mansion, leaving you alone with Wonwoo. He gestured toward a picturesque gazebo nestled in the garden, surrounded by various vibrant peonies of different colors. The gazebo was adorned with comfortable couches and a small table, creating an inviting atmosphere for conversations and relaxation.

You followed Wonwoo to the gazebo, the fragrance of the blooming peonies filling the air as you both settled down on the couch.

The sun beamed down in the noon, and birds chirped melodiously in the background as you and Wonwoo settled into the comfortable gazebo. He opened and closed his mouth as if struggling to find the right words to say. However, before he could speak, your phone rang. Rachel's name flashed on the screen, and you answered the call.

"Yes, Rach? What's up?" you inquired.

"I was wondering what time you'll be here," she responded.

"Well, we're having an impromptu gathering, and the kids wanted to have a sleepover. So, in all probability, tomorrow morning," you explained, examining your nails casually. "Why do you ask?"

"I see. Then I'm sending you some files; please check them," Rachel informed you.

"Sure, I'll take a look. See you tomorrow. Bye," you replied, ending the call. Placing your phone on the table, you waited for Wonwoo to begin.

He cleared his throat and mentioned, "So, Rachel?"

"Why, curious?"

Wonwoo's gaze, filled with intensity, made you uncomfortable. "You may find it difficult to believe, but these days I find myself curious about you. Your past, your feelings, your day-to-day life. Will you ease my curiosity, Y/N?" he asked.

your palms grow slightly sweaty under his scrutinizing stare. You replied, "I don't know what to say, Wonwoo."

He gently reached for your hand but then hesitated, holding himself back. "I am sorry, Y/N, for my words last night. I know I hurt your feelings."

As you sat there, your eyes were drawn to the serene lake behind him. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you uttered,

"I don't think you can hurt a woman who has already been hurt by her own heart. I've loved a man who belonged to someone I cherished the most in the world. You just called me something that most were afraid to say out loud."

"Y/N, I—" Wonwoo began.

"Wonwoo, don't you think it's very hypocritical of me to criticize you when we're both using each other equally? To fill our voids, to soothe a guilt, punishing ourselves for something we had no control over?" you said, avoiding a direct answer.

"Don't you get tired?" Wonwoo asked, his eyes searching yours.

Your gaze met his, and you replied, "I do, but then I remember I have someone's childhood in my hand."

The wind ruffled your hair, and the sun's reflection in your eyes made you look radiant in Wonwoo's eyes. He reached out and tucked the rebel strand behind your ear, his fingers grazing your cheek. A warmth crept into your cheeks, and you became acutely aware of the heat between you two.

"That day at my parents' house, I told them about Noella's family and even the reason why his family is a threat to him," He admitted.

"I know. Your mother told me about it, and I'm regretful of my accusations regarding their intentions. They're good people," You acknowledged.

"Y/N, you know what my father said to me today? He said, 'You can't be good at everything, but that doesn't mean you can't do anything. Just because we can't solve each other's every problem, that doesn't mean we can't understand them. I know we both have our reasons for doing the things we do, and maybe one day we'll trust each other enough to talk about it.'"

A small smile played on your lips and thought We're in too deep to go back now, aren't we Wonwoo?

"And since we're both on the same team, why don't we treat each other as one?" Wonwoo suggested.

"I like the sound of that," you replied, feeling a sense of relief.

"So, friends?" he offered, extending his hand for you to shake.

"Friends," you agreed, shaking his hand.

"Again, I'm sorry about last night. I don't know why I reacted the way I did," Wonwoo apologized.

"Hmm, I'm sorry too," you admitted.

"So, we're cool then?" he inquired.

"Wait," you scrunched your brows, "don't you want to apologize for one more thing?"

"About what?" Wonwoo looked perplexed for a moment, then glanced at your lips. "Oh, you mean the kiss."

You nodded, displaying your obvious annoyance. "Yes."

"Yeah, no, I'm not sorry about it," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You kissed me back."

"Seriously," you muttered.

"Why should I apologize for something I don't regret?" Wonwoo teased.

"You're unbelievable," you grumbled and began to march back to the mansion, leaving the laughing man and your phone behind.

As you reached the second floor and settled into your room, you realized your phone was absent. Puzzled, you retraced your steps, intending to retrieve it. However, while heading back downstairs, you happened to glimpse Wonwoo and Eleanor through the window on the second story. They were engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces close, and Wonwoo was gripping Eleanor's forearm.

Your lips tightened into a thin line, and you decided not to intervene. You continued to your room, thinking that it was time to check your emails and get back to your work. Before you entered your room, you stopped a passing maid and asked her to retrieve your phone from the gazebo where you had left it earlier.

Wonwoo was smiling to himself when he noticed your phone on the table. He picked it up, the corners of his lips curling upwards at some amusing thought.

Just as he turned to head back into the mansion, a voice cut through the air, "What's got you smiling like that, Wonnie?"

The voice that once felt like a first sip of water after walking in the desert now felt like swallowing sand. He ignored her and continued walking.

Eleanor, however, wasn't one to be ignored. She stepped in his way, a sly smile playing on her lips. "What do you want, Eleanor?"

He drew in a breath and stared down at her with a stern expression. "What we can't even talk now? We weren't on that bad of terms five months ago. Or is it that you're trying to get into good graces by playing a virtuous husband to your young wife and doting father to a little charity case? I must say, I'm loving this look on you."

His patience was running thin, and he harshly grabbed her elbow, pulling her close as he spoke through clenched teeth. "That night was one of the most regrettable nights of my life, you chose this for yourself so now live with it. You're the last person who should be talking about virtue here. Keep my wife's and son's names out of your damn mouth, because if I start, you won't have anything left to crawl back to."

Eleanor's eyes widened at the intensity in his voice. She stammered, "You have no idea who you're messing with. I am a congressman's wife."

Wonwoo let out a bitter laugh and looked down at her with pity. "The way you act, you don't seem like one. Stay out of my family's business unless you don't mind losing whatever faux pride is left in you."

With that, he shoved her out of the way and stormed inside the mansion. Eleanor gritted her teeth, vowing to herself, "You will regret this, Jeon Wonwoo."

...

...

The airport bustled with travelers from around the world. The Heathrow Airport was a massive, modern structure, filled with glass windows that allowed the daylight to stream in, and a high ceiling that made the space feel grand. Travelers scurried about, dragging their luggage, while the constant sound of announcements echoed through the terminal.

In this bustling environment, Jeonghan and Victor emerged from their arrival gate, eager and excited. They were welcomed by Victor's sister, who stood there with a placard that read, "Grooms to be." Her enthusiasm was contagious, and she exchanged warm hugs with the newly arrived duo.

"Welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident in her voice. "We have so much to do today. First, let's head to your new home, and then we have a dinner appointment with your wedding planner."

As they left the airport, Victor's sister skillfully maneuvered her way through the London traffic, and along the way, Jeonghan and Victor caught up. They discussed what Jeonghan had been up to, particularly his new thesis project.

Then, curious about their plans, Victor's sister inquired, "When is your friend, Y/N, coming?"

Jeonghan couldn't help but beam at the thought. "I plan to go there and surprise her myself, and my mother is coming too. We know it's in the middle of all the planning, but I can't wait to see their shocked faces." He interlaced his fingers with Victor's, their hands held firmly together and planted a kiss at the back of Victor's hand.

...

In a lavish hotel room on Hoxton Street, Nikolai paced restlessly, an expensive crystal glass filled with aged, amber whiskey in his hand. The glass was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, etched with intricate patterns, and the whiskey inside was a fine, aged liquor that spoke of luxury and taste.

He was in a heated phone conversation, his voice laced with frustration. "What do you mean they're threatening to cancel the contract?" His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the glass. The voice on the other end explained in German , "They're saying that if you aren't able to secure capital within three weeks, they will cancel the contract."

Nikolai could feel his blood pressure rising as he processed the information. "Did you tell this to Dad?"

The person on the line replied indifferently, "Boss says that this is your project, your problem."

Nikolai's patience wore thin. He hurled the phone against the wall in a fit of rage. His loyal lackey stood nearby, watching his boss slowly lose his composure.

"Find out where Noella's little bastard is and end him right on the spot, and make it look like an accident," Nikolai demanded, taking a menacing step forward.

The lackey hesitated, "I don't think killing the child will be beneficial."

"Say what?" Nikolai demanded an explanation.

The lackey continued, "Our insider said that, according to Ms. Noella's will, if something were to happen to her, the kid will go with Y/N. But there's no mention of what to do if something were to happen to Y/N."

Nikolai contemplated this for a moment. "But the court has a restraining order against me."

The lackey smirked and added, "But not against boss."

Nikolai's lips curled into a sadistic smile. The lackey pushed further, "That way, we can have access to all of his inheritance."

"But what about Dad? He will not agree," Nikolai pointed out.

The lackey, always ready with a solution, pondered for a few seconds and replied, "Everything takes a little convincing. I'm sure he misses Ms. Noella, especially after the death of Mrs. Bulavia. Having her child near him may soothe his pain. And this way, you will also gain his favor. As far as the restraining order is concerned, what is there in this world that money can't buy?"

Nikolai gulped down the remaining drink in his glass and grabbed the lackey's face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You are a genius."

"Thank you, sir," the lackey said with a sinister smile.

Nikolai turned to the window, his eyes scanning the busy streets below, and he thought, 'So long, Y/N.'

...

...

Slowly, as per schedule, all the family guests left. After lunch, everyone except for Wonwoo's and Jungkook's parents, Aunt Haeri, and Lee Chan had departed. Aunt Haeri had an early morning surgery, and Lee Chan left with Mrs. Tham. Joon-hee assured you that Somi's caretaker would be there to watch over the kids, so there was nothing to worry about. However, your mother-in-law insisted that Cecilia, the head caretaker of the mansion, be there just in case to take care of Noel.

You were working in your room, engrossed in your tasks to check the proposal's file, and lost track of time. You didn't even realize when the sun settled down and the stars emerged in the sky. There was a knock at your door, and you called, "Enter." Noel appeared in the room, dressed in his nightwear. You smiled and said, "Hey, baby boy, all ready for your first sleepover?"

He looked a bit confused and replied, "But we used to have sleepovers all the time."

You gently placed the laptop on the bed and pulled Noel into your lap, saying, "Well, yes, but this is your first sleepover with a friend."

Noel nodded excitedly. "You're liking it in here, aren't you?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes, everyone has been good to me, especially Grandma and Grandpa. They even said that I can visit them whenever I like. And Somi said that I look cool when I speak French, so I help her as well."

You brushed his innocent, cerulean eyes, pushing his fringes aside, and asked, "Oh, did she now?"

You advised him with a smile, "Have fun, and no scary stories or horror movies, okay? And not too many sugary drinks before bed."

Noel protested, "Tante, I'm not a kid anymore."

You kissed his chubby cheeks and said, "Yes, yes, you're a big boy now." He fidgeted with his fingers.

Then he mentioned, "In the afternoon, when I called Uncle Wonwoo 'Dad,' you didn't mind, right? Grandpa told me that he is my dad now, not my uncle, so I should call him that."

You reassured him, "It's not about me, but about you. Don't let anyone pressure you into something you don't like. You can continue calling him 'Uncle' if you're comfortable with that."

Noel contemplated and then responded, "I don't mind calling him 'Dad'."

You smiled and told him, "If that's what you want." Then you asked, "How come you never call me 'Mom'?"

Noel explained, "Because you're Tante." You kissed his forehead and said, "And you'll forever be my baby boy. You know, Noel, if you ever want something, you can always tell me about it."

"Even throw a tantrum?" Noel asked.

You chuckled and said, "Well, not to the extent of rolling on the floor, but yes, you can." He continued to tell you about JJ, who called and is also excited about his first sleepover.

Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo, whom you hadn't seen since lunch, was standing, or rather leaning, against the door frame, looking at the both of you. Noel spotted him first and hopped down from your lap, giving you a hug and saying, "Good night, Tante."

You smiled and replied, "Good night, baby boy." Noel then went to Wonwoo and wished him, "Good night, Dad." Wonwoo ruffled Noel's hair, saying, "Good night, bud. Have fun."

As Cecilia came to pick him up, Wonwoo closed the door behind him and plopped down on the bed next to your feet. You picked up the laptop again, reading the file, and he remarked, "Well, at least someone will have fun."

Your eyes were glued to the laptop as you teasingly asked, "Why is that, 'Dad'?"

Wonwoo opened one of his eyes to peer up at you from his lying position and replied with a grin, "Jealous much?"

You retorted, "Oh, please, you should be proud of me. Most women take at least nine months to make their husband a dad, and I made you one within two months."

You both shared a laugh. He added, "What can I say, words fail me. I have such a talented wife."

With a sigh, he confessed, "God, Y/N, I don't want to go."

You empathized, "Then don't."

He challenged your reluctance, saying, "You have no idea, JK will kick down this door and drag us there. He can be a little—"

"Persistent?" you offered.

"Well, he's a lawyer. What else do you expect?" adding further.

"But I wish it were just that. Jungkook's friend will also be there."

You questioned, "Congressman Lee?"

Wonwoo confirmed, "Uh huh."

"That means Eleanor will also be there," you pointed out.

He responded with a nonchalant tone, "Hmm."

You recalled their interaction earlier by the gazebo and couldn't help mentioning it, your voice growing more serious. "You weren't dreading her presence when talking to her in front of the gazebo after I left."

Wonwoo rose up from his position and stood in front of you, trying to explain, "Y/n, I swear she stopped my way. It's not what you think."

You questioned, "And what do I think?"

He was at a loss for words and struggled to explain further, "Listen, Y/n, she stopped my way—"

You cut him off with a composed response, "It's alright, Wonwoo, you don't owe me an explanation. It's none of my business."

He seemed taken aback by your response, so you continued, "So, whatever I do is none of your business."

You responded calmly, "Well, until the time it doesn't directly affect mine or Noel's life, it's not."

Wonwoo tried to test your reaction further, asking, "So, you wouldn't mind if I flirt with other women?"

You nonchalantly shrugged, your inner thoughts conflicted. The angel on your right shoulder whispered, "You're digging yourself a grave, Y/n." Meanwhile, the angel on your left shoulder cheered, "Tell him. If he doesn't mind you flirting with other men."

With a mischievous smile, you responded, "Sure, if you don't mind me flirting with other men." you can hear a small sound of someone face palming themselves from your right shoulder.

His reaction was swift. Wonwoo bent down to your eye level and lightly grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, his gaze intense as he said, "I'd like to see you try." The unexpected sensuality in his voice made your core tighten in reflex, and you couldn't help but clench at the sensation. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression, then turned to the wardrobe and took out a pair of black wide-leg formal trousers and a cotton shirt.

Wonwoo emerged after changing into his attire, his shirt fashionably unbuttoned at the top, offering a teasing glimpse of his well-defined chest. His silver Rolex Yacht-Master II watch graced his wrist, and his sleeves were casually rolled up, giving him an effortlessly stylish look. There was no denying the fact that Wonwoo was an attractive man, and the addition of his glasses only accentuated his intellectual charm.

As you watched him, you often found yourself pondering why male poets wrote pages describing the beauty of women when there seemed to be insufficient words to truly appreciate a man's splendor. Maybe it was because men wanted the world to know about the magnificence of the objects of their admiration, while women preferred to keep such treasures safely nestled within their hearts.

Caught in your contemplation, you met Wonwoo's playful smirk with a knowing smile "Like what you see?"

You refrained from entertaining his teasing and looked back at your laptop.

"Are you coming?" Wonwoo asked.

You replied, "I'll be there after replying to a few emails and checking the sheets."

He offered, "You can skip if you're not feeling up to it."

You told him, "I'll think about it," and returned to your work. About twenty minutes passed, but you couldn't shake the thought of your attractive husband outside.

'Isn't he looking a bit too good then normal?' a small voice spoke from your left shoulder. what will she do in front of her husband? The memory of her throwing herself in front of Wonwoo's car on your wedding day sent goosebumps racing across your skin. I mean, you're certain that everyone is aware of their history but 'you can't let yourself be disrespected like that if something does happens there,while you're in the same premises as them'.

Fine, you decided, "I'll attend," and in no time, you had changed into a black viscose mini dress and some comfortable Isola flat mules. Letting your hair down and applying light makeup, Within half an hour you headed to the pool house where everyone had gathered.

Jungkook skillfully mixed drinks at the bar, engaged in conversation with Congressman Lee. Eleanor animatedly recounted the story of how they once stayed past curfew to attend a Beyoncé concert.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat on a cozy two-seater, his legs crossed, and a glass of wine resting on his perched knee. He seemed rather disinterested in the ongoing conversation and was scrolling in his phone. Joon-hee nestled in her husband's lap, you try to put a name to the face, Ah Kwon Hoshi the two of them sharing affectionate smiles as they listened to Eleanor's tale.

Kwon Hoshi, the heir of Tiger Baby Media. It was widely known in their social circles that both he and his father were passionate about tigers, even actively supporting causes to protect these magnificent creatures.

'when did he arrive?' then you recall the loud noise of a chopper landing on the helipad outside around 5 pm. A maid, upon being questioned, informed you that Han Joon-hee's husband had arrived.

"Oh, Noona, you made it," Jungkook greeted you as you entered, the first to notice your arrival. All eyes turned in your direction, but it was Wonwoo's gaze that lingered on you. He couldn't help but gulp as you both appeared to be perfectly coordinated.

"What would you like, whiskey or wine?" Jungkook inquired.

"Whiskey, please," you replied.

"Right away." Jungkook set about preparing your drink. You settled down next to Wonwoo, who slipped his phone into his pocket and casually placed his hand behind the headrest, your right shoulder lightly brushing against his chest.

You exchanged pleasantries with Kwon Hoshi, acknowledging Congressman Lee who just raised his glass at your direction and his wife, who was giving you disapproving looks.

Amid the conversation with Joon-hee, Wonwoo leaned in and whispered in your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. "You look ravishing," he praised, sniffing behind your ear. "and smell fucking delicious."

You turned your head and whispered back, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Complimenting my wife," he responded.

If two can play at this game, you thought to yourself and whispered in his ear, "You don't look half bad yourself."

He seemed to be getting a bit buzzed. Jungkook handed you your drink, and you thanked him. Jungkook took a seat in a single chair opposite Hoshi and Joon-hee, while Eleanor and her husband sat across from you and Wonwoo.

Lee Joon-suk sipped from his glass, his eyes unfocused as he reclined in his seat, and then he started addressing you, "Ms. Y/N, you've grown into a fine young lady. I remember you when you were sixteen, accompanying your mother to the exhibitions hosted by my aunt." He turned to look at Wonwoo and remarked, "You're one lucky guy."

Wonwoo cleared his throat, replying, "Sure am."

Lee Joon-suk continued, "I heard that you both are working on a resort together." You nodded and said, "Yes, construction is underway."

He drained his glass and set it on the table. "Well, do let me know if you need any help. It's always a pleasure to be of use to a beautiful young lady."

You felt the annoyance radiating from Wonwoo, his grip tightening around his glass. To ease the tension, you placed your hand on his knee and replied, "My husband and I will keep that in mind."

You didn't miss the subtle smile Joon-hee gave behind her glass, raising her eyebrows in intrigue.

As the moon ascended higher in the night sky, food and drinks continued to flow. You had a helping of food and kept taking small sips from your glass. You couldn't afford to get drunk in front of people you had just met. Wonwoo, too, switched to whiskey. He apparently had a higher tolerance than you initially thought.

The mood was light, and jokes were exchanged. Hoshi and Jungkook began playfully teasing Wonwoo.

Jungkook grinned mischievously and quipped, "Hey, Hoshi Hyung , you remember, he used to be such workaholic he even brought his laptop as a plus one to your wedding"

Hoshi chimed in, "Yeah, man Y/N must have done some real magic, For you to agree to get married."

Wonwoo, unfazed, responded with a smirk, "Well, what can I say I had no interst in seeing him cosplay a tiger in white suit and kiss my sister every five minutes"

You couldn't help but smile at the back and forth, your nerves relaxed to the point you didn't even mind,The hand that was initially behind you slowly settled on your nape, fingers pressing lightly on your left collarbone. Your hand, which had been drawing circles on his knee, reached up to his thigh. Laughter filled the air as everyone shared antidotes from their past, and they chuckled, except for Eleanor, who remained silent, her discomfort palpable. Isn't it funny how fate works at one point where someone who used to be the most important after a time seem irrelevant.

Upon Jungkook's insistence he poured you an another glass, you weren't drunk but you were feeling a little buzzed, your back comfortably against Wonwoo's chest, his warm breath on the top of your head.

Amid the jovial atmosphere, Jungkook suddenly whined, "Guys, I'm the only one without a partner here!"

You tilted your head curiously, "Jungkook, why don't you have a partner?"

Joon-hee, ever the sharp-tongued one, chimed in, "Well, he's the jack of all trades, master of none. He's been switching partners so often that at the end, he's all alone."

Jungkook pouted and complained, "Noona, for the past few days, I've wanted someone, but she's not giving me a chance!"

Wonwoo, intrigued, asked, "Do we know her, kookie?"

Jungkook smirked and replied, "Well, not you, but Noona knows her very well, actually." Making you knit your brows in confusion. He then stumbled over to the bar, grabbed an empty wine bottle, and suggested, "Let's play truth or dare!"

Several rounds of the game later, the bottle landed on Wonwoo, and he chose "dare." Jungkook, with a mischievous glint in his eye, gave him a wicked ultimatum: eat a spoonful of hot sauce or switch to "truth" and share his most embarrassing sexual encounter.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo opted for the hot sauce. However, as soon as the spoon rested on his taste buds the pain made him realise that people can see stars with their eyes close as well. His face turned red, sweat poured down his forehead, and his eyes watered uncontrollably.

You saw Eleanor concerned face as she rose to grab the water bottle for the side but Quickly, you grabbed an ice cube from your glass, put it in your mouth, and took Wonwoo's face in your hands. You kissed him deeply, letting the ice cube melt in his mouth as your lips met his. After breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes and asked with a smile, "Feeling better now?"

Wonwoo, still recovering from the fiery hot sauce, nodded. whatever little intoxication he felt, all sobered down you noticed his eyes slightly dilated.

Amidst the collective "ooooooo" of amazement and laughter that echoed around the room, Jungkook exclaimed, "Damn, Noona, you're so cool!" playfully teasing.

But what soured eleanor's mood further was that her husband had indulged a bit too much in the drinks. Eleanor excused herself from the group, helping her tipsy spouse as she made her way towards the door. Jungkook kindly offered to prepare a guest room for her, but she politely declined, explaining that she had a meeting with the party board members early the next morning. Her driver was ready to assist, guiding her inebriated husband to the waiting car. Her husband slurred his goodbyes to everyone.

Amid this scene, you overheard Joon-hee's sweet words as she kissed her husband's cheek, saying, "I'm so glad my baby is not a sloppy drunk." Hoshi, who had also had his share of drinks and was now sporting rosy cheeks, gave a warm, somewhat goofy smile that was reminiscent of Somi's charming expressions. It was a heartwarming moment.

It was now Jungkook's turn, you dared him to do ten shots off Hoshi's body. He whined, saying, "Noona, are you trying to kill me here?" You retorted, "You should have thought of that before you shoved hot sauce down my husband's throat," which caused Wonwoo to burst into laughter.

"So you both a team now huh?

Hoshi lay down on the now empty table, and Joon-hee lined up the shots on her husband's body. Jungkook managed to down six shots before he fell onto a two-seater couch. Out as the daylight, Wonwoo rang for the butler to assist Jungkook to his room.

You turned to find Hoshi and Joon-hee, lost in their own world, were busy making out, while you and Wonwoo sat in tense silence,

Things were getting a bit too steamy with Hoshi and Joon-hee, so you leaned over to Wonwoo and whispered, "I think it's time for us to call it a night."

Wonwoo nodded in agreement, and you both quietly excused yourselves from the room.

You were acutely conscious of his presence behind you. The flavors of whiskey and hot sauce still clung to your taste buds, and Wonwoo wasn't faring any better. His heart raced in his chest as you led the way. You held the door open for him, and he stepped inside. You followed, your against the door, trying to regain your composure, and your breaths came in measured counts.

In the stillness of the night, your hands worked swiftly to find and secure the lock, while you and Wonwoo engaged in an unspoken duel of wills. It was a contest of who could maintain the intense gaze without faltering. Your fingers danced behind the door, seeking the lock mechanism, and when it finally yielded with a soft click, the sound reverberated in the room.

The room was wrapped in a cocoon of silence, interrupted only by the gentle hum of crickets serenading the night outside. Wonwoo, with his hand extended, palm up, broke the silent challenge, offering you to take his hand. He whispered softly, "Come here."

You pushed away from the door and took a step towards him, your hand slipping into his. His warm, calloused fingers caressed your knuckles before he raised your hand to his lips, recreating the tender gesture from the first time he visited your house for dinner. His deep kiss spoke volumes without uttering a word.

Wordlessly, he turned your hand still in his and guided you towards the curtained window. With a graceful sweep, he drew the curtains aside, “you know why I always chose this room". You couldn't trust your voice at that moment, so you silently mouthed, 'why.'

He moved behind you, his strong arms encircling your waist. His warm breath tickled your neck as he answered, "Because of this."

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the breathtaking view. The path leading to the garden was bathed in subtle, soft lights. Around the irises, many fireflies danced, casting a mesmerizing glow. It was as if the stars had descended from the heavens and were scattered across the ground, creating a scene that was nothing short of magical.

"It's beautiful," you breathed in admiration as you took in the enchanting view.

"It is," the timber of his voice resonated through you, adding to the enchantment of the moment. You turned to find him already gazing down at you, a silent understanding passing between you. Your eyes danced between his eyes and his lips, and as if drawn by an invisible force, you both leaned in, closing the distance that separated you.

He captured your lips with his, and the world outside disappeared into the embrace of your shared kiss. It was a moment that needed no words, a moment of perfect togetherness under the canopy of stars and fireflies.

Your senses were ablaze as the taste of whiskey on his tongue mingled with the faint remnant of hot sauce on yours. His hands moved with a gentleness that contradicted the burning intensity of the kiss, sliding up your arms.

Time slipped away as you explored each other's lips with a fierce longing, the tension that had lingered between you all evening now ignited into a passionate flame. The heat in the room seemed to increase, and the air became charged with electricity.

Wonwoo's kisses trailed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He whispered in your ear, "I think we've had enough games for tonight."

Your hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers tracing the contours of his sculpted chest. "I couldn't agree more."

PG-15 VERSION ENDS HERE

A/N: (After '------' this line you can read the Extra)

You felt Wonwoo's fingers deftly working at the zipper of your dress, allowing the fabric to cascade to the floor. Your bare skin tingled under his touch. His lips found yours once more, and you could taste the raw desire in his kiss.

Wonwoo gently lifted you, carrying you to the bed guided you to your knees and took a step back to appreciate your enticing appearance. Your chest heaved with anticipation as you looked up at him, your eyes dilated and filled with longing. He put his hand on your shoulder, his voice deep and sensual as he whispered, "Tell me you want this."

Your fingers deftly worked down the buttons of his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest beneath. With deliberate sensuality, you scraped your nails lightly down his defined abs, and he bit his lips in response to the electrifying sensation.

"I want you, Wonwoo," you murmured, your voice filled with desire. You rose, your lips trailing hot and wet kisses along his neck, down to his collarbones, and further, slowly descending toward his belly button. He threw his head back and groaned, overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensations you were invoking.

Looking up at him, you took in the effect you were having on him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, the heat of your mouth on his body driving him wild. You circled your hands around his waist, fingers working on his belt buckle, each touch stoking the fiery passion between you.

You unlatched his belt buckle and removed it from the hoop, letting it drop to the floor with a distinct cling sound. You were about to undo the button of his pants when his strong hands engulfed yours, halting your movements. Confusion flickered in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He gently cupped your chin, tilting your head up to his lips and whispered, "There's a lot of time for that, baby girl." His fingers brushed your hair away from your face, and he began to plant soft, teasing kisses along the path he traced: from your forehead, your left eye, the side of your nose, your cheeks, and the corners of your lips.

As your mouths met and opened, your tongues engaged in a sensuous dance, exploring each other's desires. His hands reached behind you to unhook the clasp, freeing you from the confining embrace of your garment.

His warm palms firmly cupped your chest, causing a deep groan to rise in your throat. He bit your lower lip, making you moan in response. Breaking the kiss, he used his left thumb and slipped it into your mouth, commanding, "Suck."

You obediently complied, wrapping your lips around his thumb and swirling your tongue sensually around it. All the while, you peered up at him, watching his reaction. He gazed down at his thumb in your mouth, his jaw clenching as if trying to control himself.

With a wet pop, he withdrew his thumb and trailed it down from your mouth to your collarbone, leaving a cold and tingling sensation in its wake. Finally, he reached your breast, circling and tweaking your nipple with a teasing touch. His right hand slid down your body, slipping beneath your panties, his fingers delving into your heated flesh with a firm and demanding grip.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but cry out, "Fuck, Wonwoo." Your head arched back as the intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. With deliberate intent, he tugged at your nipple and slowly pushed you onto your back, his desire evident in his every move.

He gripped the waistband of your panties and slowly removed them, leaving you completely bare and at his mercy. Wonwoo climbed onto the bed on his knees, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed. He gazed at you with a fiery desire in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his fingers trailing from your knees to your thighs. “Your spark lights a flame with me” He removed his glasses and threw them on the bedside table. Bending down, he began to kiss your neck, his lips exploring the sensitive skin below your ear. You moaned softly, your fingers digging into the back of his head, grazing the blades of his well-defined shoulders.

Descending further, he captured one of your nipples with his warm mouth, sending a shock of pleasure coursing through your body. After lavishing attention on one breast, he switched to the other, his tongue and lips setting your nerve endings ablaze. Your core throbbed, and you found yourself grinding your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find.

Noticing your struggle, Wonwoo quipped, "Is my baby girl in pain?" You shot him a glare, wanting to wipe that smug smirk off his face. However, you had other plans. You hooked your legs behind him, and with a swift motion, you flipped positions, straddling him. Your bare sex rubbed against the rough material of his trousers, which concealed his evident arousal, and both of you hissed in response.

As he looked up at you, naked and sitting atop his clothed arousal, you began to move your hips provocatively, eliciting a throaty growl from him. "Fuck, Y/n, slow down," he implored, if you don't, I'll end up coming in my pants, He thought to himself.

You dismissed his words, your voice heavy with desire. "Less talking, more fucking." You moved your hips rhythmically, and he raised to his elbows, gripping your hips tightly to halt your movements. "Raise your hips," he instructed, "I promise I won't tease. I need to prepare you, love."

Without further delay, he began to give your bundle of nerves the attention they craved. His thumb circled your sensitive bud while he slowly inserted his forefinger inside you. The sensation was electrifying, and you felt your arousal building from your spine to your womb, flooding you with pleasure.

Your vision blurred, and the sensations washed over you, causing your body to tense and quiver. You bit into Wonwoo's neck, desperate to muffle your moans as your climax approached. His name became a chant on your lips, and your hips began to ride his hand, your movements taking on a mind of their own. You were lost in ecstasy, your world reduced to the pleasure that consumed you.

When he added a third finger, you gasped, and your hips twitched involuntarily. "Wonwoo," you gasped, and he whispered, "Let go, baby. I've got you."

With a mind of their own, your hips raised from his thighs, and you began to ride his hand, the overwhelming sensations driving you closer to your climax. You were too lost in your ecstasy to notice Wonwoo opened his trousers a little and brought out his member giving it a few pumps making him moan at the sight of you. But just as you were about to cross that exhilarating threshold, he withdrew his hand, leaving you gasping in shock. "WHAT THE FUck–" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, he seized your hips and thrust his throbbing member deep inside you.

Your world exploded as he penetrated you, and you screamed as he entered your most intimate depths, causing your inner muscles to clench around him. Two powerful thrusts were all it took for your first orgasm to crash over you, an electrifying wave of pleasure that sent you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body convulsed around him, and he groaned, overcome by the intense grip of your tightness.

Your chests pressed together, your foreheads touching, and he pushed up into you at a languid pace, allowing you to ride the waves of your orgasm. He paused when he noticed your furrowed brow, knowing you needed a moment to come back from the euphoric high.

With one arm, he held you up as you lay upon him, your hair cascading like a curtain over his face. He kissed your neck and nipped at your earlobe as he allowed you to regain your composure. As your heartbeat gradually returned to normal and you opened your eyes, a silly smile graced your lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing it’s just that in the afternoon you said let’s be friends”

“Ah”

In the blink of an eye, he shifted your positions once again. You lay on your back, and he knelt between your parted legs, your hips hovering in the air. “Then let me show you how good my friendship can be”,His hands gripped your supple buttocks, surely leaving marks in their wake. As he entered you again, you felt his gaze locked onto you with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.

With a husky whisper, he purred, with a wink, "My turn."

TBC.

.

.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EXTRA:

When Jeonghan was in his first year of college, he read the concluding lines of the main character in Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night": "Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe; what is decreed must be, and be this so." He couldn't disagree with something more at the time, but little did he know how much he would have to eat his words.

Jeonghan had come to drop off a pin drive you'd left at home in your office. He was about to step into the elevator when Victor rushed in before him. In German, Jeonghan asked, "Hold the elevator, please," but Victor, who was also late for a meeting, just gestured to his watch and said, "Sorry, short on time." The doors closed with Victor inside, leaving Jeonghan grumbling and taking the next elevator.

When Jeonghan reached your office, he saw the same man showing you something in his file and making you sign some documents. Jeonghan glared at him, and the man looked a little awkward. You introduced Jeonghan to him.

"Ah, JJ, come in. Mr. Sine and I are almost done here," you said.

"Mr. Sine, this is my good friend, Yoon Jeonghan, an Assistant Professor at KIU," you continued.

"JJ, this is my new representative, Mr—"

"Mr. Short on Time," Jeonghan interrupted with a sly smile.

The air between the three of you seemed charged with unspoken tension. You, ever perceptive, sensed it and said, "Okay, why don't you take a seat, Mr. Sine? Shall we continue?"

Mr. Sine cleared his throat and agreed, shifting his attention back to you as he began to explain the contract clauses, pointing to where you should sign. Meanwhile, Jeonghan settled into a nearby couch, picking up a magazine and pretending to be engrossed in it.

Jeonghan couldn't help but notice Victor attempting to act cool about it, and, true to his petty nature at times, he decided that if two could play this game, he'd certainly be up for the challenge. For the next six minutes, while Victor stood next to you, his peripheral attention was continuously drawn to Jeonghan, feeling the weight of his stare.

...

Two days after the encounter at your office, Jeonghan found himself in a pub with his friends, passionately discussing the decline of the social sciences. They delved into the structure of society, which seemed to be transforming into a conformist matrix that stifled critical thinking and suppressed diverse voices.

Victor happened to enter the same pub with his coworker, and he immediately spotted Jeonghan. The conversation around the table focused on whether criticizing problems would lead to solutions.

Victor quipped, "What can be done? Your criticism doesn't always result in a solution."

Jeonghan, who was ardently immersed in the debate, responded, "Sometimes the journey toward finding an answer is more liberating than the answer itself."

Victor, his eyes locked with Jeonghan's, engaged in a silent battle of wits and wills, momentarily oblivious to their surroundings. Jeonghan's coworker interrupted their silent exchange by clearing his throat, prompting Jeonghan to break his gaze.

When Jeonghan's coworker noticed another person entering the pub, he excitedly exclaimed, "Oh, he's here!"

Both Jeonghan and Victor turned their attention to see an average-looking but seemingly confident guy, often referred to as a "chad" among their friends, entering the establishment.

"This is the guy I was telling you about," the coworker said to Jeonghan. "Come on, I'll introduce you to him."

Jeonghan hesitated and replied with unease, "Robert, I told you I don't want to meet new people just yet."

Undeterred, his coworker insisted, "Oh, come on, Yoon. A simple 'hello' won't hurt. It's not like I told you to marry him."

He attempted to pull Jeonghan from his chair to introduce him to the newcomer. However, just as Jeonghan was about to be dragged away, someone firmly grasped his other wrist. It was Victor, his gravelly voice and authoritative gaze stopping the coworker in his tracks.“He said no, didn’t he?”

Jeonghan's heart quickened, and he felt a tingle in his stomach. He couldn't help but be captivated by Victor's protective response, and from that moment on, the rest became history. Dating Jeonghan was no easy task, but for Victor, every moment spent with him was worth the effort.

In college, Victor's boyfriend, a literature major, once read out a verse by Charles Bukowski: "When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?"

Turning to Victor, his boyfriend had asked, "What do you think, Vic? Is it freedom or loneliness?"

Victor, who had grown up in an immigrant household where his parents and four siblings had always been busy, striving for a better life, and chasing opportunities, answered confidently, "Freedom."

Then why is it now when he walks into his house, in the same streets where he used to deliver newspapers in so he could afford some pocket money for his bus card, as he walked into his house, closing the door of his Audi and opening the door to their home, where Jeonghan's absence was strongly felt because he was away attending a conference, Victor couldn't help but feel that this moment was closer to "loneliness."

After taking a shower, Victor entered the kitchen, planning to open the fridge. However, he noticed a post-it note that read, "Warm up the lasagna and don't forget to take out the trash. P.S., don't eat my muffin."

And that's when Victor had an epiphany. … It had been three days since your wedding, and you had flown down to Switzerland with Victor. As he drove both of you to the office, you were fiddling with your engagement ring and staring out at the passing scenery.

Victor broke the silence, saying, "It's a pretty ring."

You snapped out of your reverie and looked at him, slightly confused. "The ring," he clarified, nodding toward your hand. "It's pretty."

"Ah, thanks. It belonged to my husband's grandmother," you replied.

"Heirloom, eh?"

"Yes," you confirmed with a somewhat awkward laugh.

"So, how are things between you and JJ?" Victor asked.

"Good, as good as they could get," Victor responded with a chuckle.

"Good is nice," you hummed.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Victor said, changing lanes. "I'm going to propose to Jeonghan."

You looked at him with surprise, your eyes gleaming. "And you want my blessing for it?" you teased.

"Since you and Noel are the closest thing Jeonghan has here to family, you could say that. I mean, you did play a pivotal part in our meeting," Victor explained.

"My, my, Victor, I'm flattered. Who knew you had a heart under all that muscle?" you joked, dramatically touching your chest.

He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Can you pretend you don't know for a bit? You know how Jeonghan gets when-"

"He's kept out of the loop," you finished the thought with a chuckle.

You both shared a laugh. "What about his parents?" you asked.

"Well, the last time I talked to his mother, she seemed happy," Victor said.

"And what about his father?"

Victor sighed and gave you a sad smile. "Well, that's a conversation best served with drinks."

"Have you guys talked about it?" you asked.

Victor nodded. "Yes, we've discussed it. He has his whole plan ready. But don't you think everybody deserves a proposal?"

You pondered his words for a moment, gazing out the window. With a small smile playing on your lips as you fiddled with your ring, you whispered, "Yes, everybody deserves a proposal." … It had been two weeks since Noel and you left, and there were moments when Jeonghan would start yelling for "El" to come down for something before he'd stop mid-sentence, remembering that you had left. Even though you'd been Facetiming regularly, adjusting to the old routine without you as a constant presence in his life was difficult. However, the joy Noel brought to both yours and Jeonghan's lives was undeniable, serving as a living reminder of the people you both held dear.

Victor had asked Leila to arrange a basket and took Jeonghan on a day trip to Lake Lungern. During the two-hour drive, Jeonghan's antsiness grew as he repeatedly asked, "Are we there yet?" Victor's patience was wearing thin.

As they approached their destination, Jeonghan's anticipation grew. "Oh, my Vicky, you didn't!" he exclaimed as he took in the stunning view. This place held sentimental value as it was where Jeonghan had taken them for their first date before it became a hotspot.

Victor was driving and couldn't drink, but he wouldn't have minded a glass of wine to calm his nerves. His heart raced, and he had cold sweats accumulating on the back of his neck. He finally brought out a blanket and a picnic basket.

Jeonghan commented, "Ah, ever since I came back from the post-doctoral program, I haven't had time to catch a break. Thank you, Vicky."

"Anything for you, Dr. Yoon," Victor replied.

"Please don't call me that in public," Jeonghan joked.

They laughed together, and Victor felt the love in the air as he looked at Jeonghan with adoration in his eyes.

After a moment, Victor cleared his throat. "Jeonghan, we need to talk."

Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be if we hadn't met at Y/N's office nine years ago?"

Jeonghan looked at Victor, then at his fingers, and shook his head. "No, not really. You?"

Victor stood up and walked towards the lake, surrounded by flowers. Jeonghan followed closely, waiting for his answer. Victor took a deep breath and began, "I've never felt the need to wonder, and even imagining a life without you terrifies me."

He turned to face Jeonghan and extended his hand. Jeonghan placed his hand in Victor's, listening intently.

Victor continued, "Yoon Jeonghan, meeting you made me realize what living feels like. You breathe life into my soul. My mother used to say that there are no accidents in life. Even the rustling of the leaves due to the wind is written in the stars before the seed of that tree came to exist. I used to think it was absurd, but now when I look at you, I thank the stars for aligning our fates. I want all your mornings and nights. I want the privilege of growing old with you. I want your rants and all your moods."

Jeonghan interjected, "I'll become more critical of some of your choices."

Victor chuckled and said, "Jeonghan, I will love you even if you become the next Karl Marx."

Jeonghan laughed, "No, thank you."

Victor continued, "You do what your heart desires, and I'll be rich for the both of us."

With those words, Victor took a platinum ring from his pocket and asked, "Dr. Yoon Jeonghan, will you marry me?"

Jeonghan's tears welled up, and he was overwhelmed by emotions. He'd rarely cried in the past, but watching the love of his life profess his love and commitment to him brought forth an unstoppable flow of tears.

He managed to joke through his tears, "Do we really need to involve the government in our relationship?"

Victor, with tears in his eyes, slipped the ring onto Jeonghan's finger. They shared a tight hug, foreheads touching, lost in their bubble of love as the sun set and made way for a new beginning.

Jeonghan admitted, "When you said we needed to talk, I thought you wanted to break up with me."

Victor replied, "I would question why you'd even think that, but right now, I just want to kiss you."

And so, as the sun set in the background, they kissed, sealing their love and commitment to one another.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Phew this took me FOUR days to write. I want to thank everyone who showed support and reminded me that just because something does not have a lot of admirers does not mean it is not worthy of love, time and effort. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and meet you all with the next one.

xxx

MSH.

[flocy-sims]

Generation 1: Kaia Flores | Berry Pastel Rainbowcy

Welcome to my not so berry pastel rainbowcy legacy!! I've been eyeing this challenge for a while and once i even reached gen 4 in it but i lost my save file. So, this is my 2nd take on this challenge, I revised some of the rules and added some new ones to fit my preferences, hope ya'll gonna like it!

Rules by @sweetlysimss under the cut.

Generation One: White

Growing up you’ve always been the odd one in your family, the outcast, a Sim with no supernatural abilities. You didn’t really have anyone to relate to, since you lived a rather sheltered life… When things got rough, you found your sisters art supplies and instantly fell in love with painting. When you grew up you decided to get away from your supernatural roots and seek refuge in one of the family’s abandoned vacation home. With no job and thus no income, you try to make the best of things by growing your own crops to eat and sell your art for money. Love doesn’t come easy for you and your love-live is a bit of a mess, but all in all you’ll have a big normal happy family you’ve always dreamt of!

traits: creative, art lover, rancher

aspiration: big happy family AND Championship Rider

career: none (sell paintings, produce and harvestables)

GENERATIONAL RULE: paint a portrait of your heir

REWARD TRAITS TO BUY: mentor, speed reader, super green thumb

max gardening skill

max horse riding skill

max painting skill

make one painting of all genres:

Pop Art

Realism

Abstract

Classic

Surrealism

Impressionistic

sell at least 5 masterpieces

have 5 children. Adoptions are allowed after the 5 required children are born

have multiple different love interests, but do not settle before having a child

become enemies with the spouse you decide not to go long-term with

only decorate your house with your own art, you are not allowed to buy art

your lot has to have the Simple Living lot challenge 

besides painting, you also enjoy the outdoors and will have multiple different animals on your small farm. Choose between the following animals (can choose multiple animals)

A horse

if you choose a horse, max the horse skills: temperament, jumping, agility, endurance

A cow

A llama

A bunny

A chicken

A cat

A dog

A rodent

mini goat

mini sheep

Max the relationship with all of your animals

As you grow up into adulthood (adult or elder), either max the knitting skill or the cross-stitch skill because you need to start knitting some clothing for all your grandchildren!

become good friends with all children and at least 1 grandchild

[shannonselin]

Detail of “The Death of Napoleon” by Charles de Steuben. Arthur Bertrand is peeking over Napoleon’s left arm.

Napoleon was fond of all the children in his entourage on St. Helena, but Arthur Bertrand (born on January 17, 1817) became his favourite. Glimpses of the two of them provide an amusing contrast to the often formidable portrait of Napoleon as Emperor.

One day, the Emperor wanted to have the noisy company of Countess Bertrand’s children at lunch. Saint-Denis told me the luncheon had gone very well, but that towards the end they started throwing bread balls at each other. The Emperor had taken the youngest on his knees, and was kissing and teasing him as he was pulling at his ears.

When Napoleon insisted that Arthur's sister Hortense have her ears pierced in an outdoor operation, Arthur was greatly alarmed.

He clinched [sic] his fists, and stamped with indignation, declaring that he would not allow his sister to be hurt. ‘You little rogue,’ said Napoleon, ‘if you are not quiet, I will have your ears bored also. Come, be obedient.’

In January 1821 Napoleon had a seesaw installed in the Longwood billiard room. Napoleon at first claimed it was a swing to amuse the children. He then admitted it was for his own use, to get more exercise. General Henri Bertrand recounts:

Arthur Bertrand went to see the Emperor, who showed him the seesaw and told him that it was a gun. Afterwards he and the Grand Maréchal got up on it to amuse the child. Napoleon had been on it for a quarter of an hour in the morning and didn’t feel any the better for it.

In the best-known vignette, Napoleon gives Arthur a pony. This was recounted by Napoleon’s first valet, Louis-Joseph Marchand.

A city resident had come to Longwood riding a small pony, and Arthur…asked the Emperor to buy it for him. As he spoke only English, the Emperor told him in that tongue: ‘Come at noon.’ But as was his habit, he went back inside, leaving the children to continue their games, got undressed and soon fell asleep. I was leaving the Emperor’s bedroom quietly when the fort cannon announced the hour of noon, and in the bathroom I found young Arthur fighting with Noverraz to enter the Emperor’s bedroom. I feared my refusal would make him cry and awaken His Majesty: I therefore made him understand that the Emperor was sleeping, and if he agreed to be good, I would let him enter and wait for His Majesty to awaken. ‘Yes,’ he answered; I took him by the hand, he went near the bed where the Emperor was resting, saw he was sleeping, then sat on the rug and stayed with me almost an hour, playing alone and noiselessly. When the Emperor awoke, he was quite surprised to find him there: ‘There you are, Arthur, what do you want, my boy?’ ‘You tell me gun fire.’ I was not aware of the promise made to him. ‘What does he say?’ the Emperor asked. ‘He is telling Your Majesty that he told him to come back when the gun went off.’ ‘Take him to Montholon, to find out what he wants.’ At that very moment, Count de Montholon was announced at the Emperor’s bedroom; he learned that during lunch he had told the child to come at noon, and he would buy him the little pony. ‘Gun fire’ was the cannon announcing that hour, and he came to claim the promise made to him. ‘Indeed! What a memory,’ said the Emperor, ‘is the horse still there?’ Count de Montholon, who had discussed the price with the owner, assured him it was. ‘But,’ said the Emperor, caressing the child and embracing him, ‘do you have any money?’ ‘Yes, I have two dollars.’ ‘That is not enough.’ ‘Papa give everything!’ ‘But Papa Bertrand has no money.’ ‘I have plenty gold.’ ‘Will you be good?’ ‘Yes.’ “How much does he want for this horse?’ the Emperor asked General Montholon. ‘Fifty louis [1000 francs], Sire.’ ‘Give this boy 1,200 francs,’ the Emperor said to me. I went upstairs to get the money that was locked up in a bag. The child was four years old, and on seeing me arrive, he held out his pinafore to catch the money. ‘You won’t be able to carry it.’ ‘Yes, yes.’ I put the money gently in his pinafore to test his strength. He turned rapidly and, accompanied by Count de Montholon, he went to purchase the horse he wished to buy. Riding his horse, and held up by Count de Montholon, he came back almost immediately to the Emperor’s door, to thank His Majesty. Later on, having fallen from the horse, he no longer wanted it and switched back to his burro, a much quieter mount and more responsive to his wishes. The horse was given to Napoleon Bertrand, the eldest of the children, who sometimes accompanied the Emperor when his mother rode in the carriage with him.

For more about Arthur and his family, see "Napoleon and Arthur Bertrand."

[marianadecarlos]

Eugenia Martinez Vallejo "The Monster" Fanart

I recently read about her, Her story is quite sad and fascinating. She was born in a church and her parents were blessed by this but soon they found something unusual about her, she started growing unusually compared to other children. She had a voracious appetite and gained more weight as she grew older to the point that she became famous in nearby towns and her fame reached the Spanish Court. The fame she received in the village was not pleasant as many people would trespass into her home just to make fun of her physical appearance. To the point that her parents had to keep her hidden inside her home. She never went outdoors until Charles II of Spain heard stories about her and started to feel a great interest in her. Charles II invited her and her family to court to meet Eugenia in person. When the family arrived at court and met King Charles II. He proposed an idea for Eugenia to be part of the Spanish court. Her parents accepted this offer and began to be known as the monster. She lived with the people of pleasure which is composed of individuals who had physical deformities. Their Job is to entertain the king and the court. They were not given a salary, instead, they were given the comforts of living in the palace. Having all kinds of food and wine and wearing the best clothes. She became increasingly famous and many drawings and writings were created about her. She was described as having whitish skin and black hair. She always had a sad expression. Her body had such a volume that she looked somewhat deformed. She always walked with great difficulty almost staggering. This attracted tremendous attention from other girls at court. The other girls would watch her imitate their footsteps and even of the King. many ladies would demand her presence. She would accompany them at court events. They observed her and treated her as if she was a strange being. Charles II would display her at state diners and events. All would come far and wide just to see her. She among other people of pleasure was seen as pets. Historians speculate that she suffers from Prader-Willi syndrome. Despite the mockery she received she enjoyed her time in the palace. She received binders and expensive dresses. It is known that she was pleasant and quite healthy becoming appreciated by the royal family and the nobility. She died on the year 1699 due to her condition.

Eugenia was subjected to mockery and ridicule just because of her weight. She lived her life fully and made the best of her situation. It is so sad that fat shaming is still a thing today. The lesson of this story is not to bully others regarding their appearance.

She had two portraits painted by Juan Carreno de Miranda

As for Charles II, I have read many people making rude comments about him. Yes, he commissioned these portraits to be painted and displayed for all to see. At that time, having a portrait painted for you was a great honor for someone to have. She was used, like other jesters: madmen, blacks, dwarfs, etc. They were called "pleasure people" of the court, typical of the time. Being painted naked was weird and barbaric in the modern eye even I find it weird but at the time, It was a "rarity" and her clothing did not allow us to see her true physical state. The artist's morbidity probably influenced it, although with a minimum of dignity when adding the vine leaves. She lived practically isolated during the first years of her life, which would have greatly affected her social abilities and development if it had continued. In the palace, she did not have to worry about clothing, food, or any work that could cause injuries. Although being part of the "pleasure people" was not the best, she had a better life than he could have had outside. Charles II saved her from a life of isolation and gave her privileges. Charles II is a very compassionate and always shared a great interest in people in her condition because he knew deep down he could relate to them. We have to thank Charles, as he was one of the reasons why her story is known.

[luluwquidprocrow]

sometimes a family is three orphans, their adopted daughter, one not-so-sad writer, and two triplets

frank, beatrice the second, the baudelaires, lemony, ernest, implied ernest/lemony

gen

3,598 words

In the grand tradition of all parents, the extended baudelaire family find themselves trying to pull a fast one. 

for @asouefanworkevent's woevember day 4, the hotel denouement! some rambling headcanon nonsense half-fic about post-canon family that i had great fun doing. my favorite thing in the whole world is post-canon babybea interacting with her absurd enormous family. i love them all so much.

okay. so bear with me here 

so i think most parents/guardians are at one point or another faced with Pulling The Ultimate Fast One on their children. this is related to Your Beloved Pet Died But We’re Telling You We Sent Them To Live On The Farm, but this version, in particular, is infinitely easier and harder. this one is The Switch. The Replacement. The Double. when the intrepid parent or guardian, under the cover of night, goes to the pet store to purchase The Exact Same Animal because the first animal had an untimely death. i will admit, this is the easiest with like, a goldfish, or something else small where you can usually get one that looks very similar. 

now, for babybea, it’s a pumpkin. 

so babybea (who is twelve at the time this story takes place), at the very end of september, carves a pumpkin, and she goes in with a VISION. she spends a couple hours on this pumpkin, carving an owl. It’s not, yknow, a realistic owl, but she adds a lot of tiny details, lots of lines for the feathers, and she carves a little mouse on the side too, and even gets the side of a tree in there, and the pumpkin carving kit the baudelaires purchased that year came with these little stick lights, to put in the owl eyes after carving, so it has orange eyes!! this is!!!! The neatest thing babybea has ever seen, and she is so thrilled with the results and very proud of this pumpkin. (for the record – violet carves a few pumpkins into a starry night with a moon, klaus carves monstera leaves, and. let’s be real. sunny bites a series of turnips into jack-o-lanterns.) (and then she stabs a couple white pumpkins into bigger jack-o-lanterns, for variety. all of them get different expressions!

sunny, arranging her carved vegetation on the baudelaire porch in order of emotion: perfect.) (no, i don’t know what order of emotion means. But sunny does.)

Then they all pile into violet’s car – pumpkin included!! – and drive almost an hour out of the city to the bildungsroman bed and breakfast. (frank and ernest decided, at this point in their lives, if they were going to commit to anything, it may as well be The Bit.) (it has a local reputation as a place with solid wifi, stellar bread, and great mattresses. The owners are considered minorly eccentric, mostly for the portrait they have in the lobby, of, just one of them. 

some impassioned yelp review: okay so the stay was great big recommend PLEASE try the bread but i cannot figure out the story behind the portrait in the lobby????? it's just one one of the owners?????? but I don't understand why bc they're twins and it's just ONE of them?????? and he's wearing this frog-patterned tie in the painting and when you see them like in person. neither of them wear the tie. what's the deal here 

the locals are sure it's not an ego thing, bc the owners don't seem to be self-centered or anything like that. In fact, if asked about the painting, both of them will say, “oh, that's a painting of my brother.” 

an additional yelp comment: I think. there's THREE of them  a third yelp comment: don't be silly, they're definitely twins.) 

frank and ernest have a very elaborate series of outdoor autumn decorations, with lots of pumpkins and mini gourds and hay bales over the front steps and corn stalks on all the porch posts, and babybea wants to not only show her uncles her hard work, but also put the pumpkin on their steps where everyone can see it!! 

(her uncles also include lemony, of course – I think he did live with the baudelaires for some time after reuniting babybea with them, but has recently moved into ernest's side of the private apartment at the back of the hotel. this was mildly distressing to babybea, who likes everyone she loves under the same roof, but she can't deny that lemony is very happy. and so is ernest. and now she can see all her uncles in the same place whenever she wants!! so the baudelaires tend to spend weekends at the bed and breakfast, because they also miss lemony. and they get to know frank and ernest better, which is very important to them, as people who are important to babybea, and to lemony, and, to the baudelaire's past.) (not to like, detract from the sentiment here, but i do need everyone to know that i imagine ernest spends like, 80% of his working hours just making out with lemony.) (okay maybe not 80%. ernest does legitimately get work done, it’s his hotel too. ………but like, a lot of time.) 

AND SO. the baudelaires arrive at the bed and breakfast, and frank and ernest and lemony are very proud of their niece's pumpkin. they take a lot of pictures. (re: my previous post-canon thoughts, frank has actually acquired a phone now, and does text. it is a flip phone.) babybea places it, very gently, on the third front step, and is so pleased. sunny steals two mini gourds while looking ernest dead in the eye. ernest approves. 

But october turns out to be unseasonably warm, and babybea’s pumpkin, while lovingly carved but now lacking the support an uncarved pumpkin has to keep itself A Pumpkin, does not take kindly to the weather, and babybea actually becomes very distressed at the smallest signs of rot beginning to form in her pumpkin, when it is only the second week of october. She doesn’t TELL anybody, because there’s not really much you can do about a pumpkin doing what a pumpkin does in warm weather, but she’s very upset. (almost uncharacteristically so. usually she’d say, oh, well that’s how it happens, and rather pleasantly move on, but lately, she’s been kind of. quieter than usual.) And frank, who spends a great deal of time at the front desk, closest to the pumpkins, becomes Concerned. 

now, in general, babybea’s family is like, pretty good at being realistic with her. She is of course an optimist, but still Aware of a great deal of the ways of the world, given her family, her upbringing, lemony’s books, her own adventures, everything. You can’t really shield this twelve year old from the ways of the world, even if that way of the world is, a rotting vegetable. All things have their time, and it cannot be stopped. Including seasons, and in-season foods. 

However. She put SO MUCH WORK into that pumpkin, and as the week goes by and the pumpkin starts to shrink in on itself, turning all of babybea’s work black from the inside out, those charming little glowstick eyes CAVING IN, and the baudelaire’s weekly weekend visit grows closer and closer, frank has been imagining her devastated reaction when she sees the pumpkin, and decides, He Must Pull The Fast One. he will re-carve the pumpkin, exactly as babybea carved it, replace the pumpkin, and no one will be the wiser. They get a little more time with the pumpkin, presumably at least until halloween, and his niece gets to see her beautiful handiwork as much as she likes. Maybe, you know, there is a little magic in the world after all, to make a pumpkin look so nice. 

(also, i think frank has. A shaky relationship with babybea, from his end. She loves him, as much as she loves everyone else in her family, and babybea herself would NEVER rank her uncles in order of how well she knows or admires them, but i, lulu vandelay, putting this together, have no qualms in saying she knows lemony the best, bc she has spent the most time with him, between trying to find him and both of them trying to find the baudelaires and all of them having lived together, and she’s rather deeply attached to him – ernest is very personable, and funny, so he’s easy to get along with – and she and frank both like tiny detail work, so they have things in common, but frank always seems very awkward around her. And he is. It’s bc he’s very nervous around her. Frank doesn’t think he’s good with kids. And he is usually acutely aware that in an ideal world, he isn’t the one she’d be spending her time with, that dewey would be so much better at all of this than he is. A better parent, a better brother, a better everything. Because dewey always was, to frank. but, dewey would probably want frank to do as much as he could for her, and would believe him absolutely capable of doing it, without a doubt. So he wants to be a proper uncle to her and THIS is his opportunity, he thinks. He so desperately wants to do something kind and considerate and important for her, like family is supposed to do for each other.) 

the thing about pumpkins, though, is that, for some reason, mid-october, THEY ALL DISAPPEAR. I’m serious, you ever try and find a good pumpkin even like a little over halfway through october? It can be hard. 

frank: i need your assistance. ernest: i’ve killed my quota for the month. frank: i – ernest, please.  ernest: alright, my apologies. What do you need?  frank: a pumpkin. lemony, from the kitchen: jarrahdale or red warty?  frank: no, i mean a carving pumpkin. 

The three of them take a good, long look at babybea’s pumpkin. Uncle Instincts Have Activated. They, very solemnly, bury the pumpkin in the back garden (lemony is the one who takes one for the team and removes the glowstick eyes from the depths of sad, sad pumpkin). And then embark on a mission. Please imagine the three of them packed into a mint green 1960 chevy corvette. Sunglasses optional. Who’s driving? That is up to you, my friend. Oh, google informs me it is cascade green. Imagine accordingly. (yes, no corvette has ever been made with more than two seats, but isn’t that just funnier? They really are packed in there. Lemony sits in the middle.) 

The hunt for the right pumpkin is long. Grueling! Kinda chilly! This is october!! Much comparison is made between potential pumpkins and the pictures they took of babybea’s pumpkin. Snacks are purchased. (lemony, who has recently been introduced to instagram, posts a picture of his pretzel. [ernest is out of focus in the corner, eating a chocolate ice cream cone.] [#pretzel.] 

sunbad: what is that lemonysnicket: I have purchased a pretzel sunbad: without me sunbad: you’re dead to me.) 

(it was actually not sunny who introduced lemony to instagram, although she was his first follower. It was klaus.) (klaus uses instagram mainly to never post anything ever, just to follow his favorite authors, so he wanted lemony to have an instagram, especially since he just moved out.) (klaus……..my heart………..) (oh, frank bought chex mix. he likes those gross rye bread pieces.) 

(don’t get me started on lemony with an instagram……….I think this is a hilarious but also heartwarming thought – this man who has avoided being photographed for years and years and years and YEARS (yes that much repetition was in fact necessary) is at a point in his life here he is not only comfortable of taking pictures of his life, but he is capable of doing it, he’s allowed!! It’s still probably mostly food and it’s so good!!!!!!!! and think of the amount of pictures he keeps just in his phone gallery, too!!! violet’s inventions and klaus’ library displays and sunny’s baking and babybea’s school projects and ernest’s record collection and frank’s breakfast spreads, and nature shots with lemony’s thumb in the corner, AAAAAAAAAAAA) (uh, anyway, these men are on a mission. back to the mission.) 

Eventually, they do find a comparable replacement pumpkin! Does it fit in the car? Lemony, by virtue of sitting in the middle, holds the pumpkin. 

They return to the bed and breakfast. Between the three of them, many different knives, and all of their photos, frank and ernest and lemony painstakingly recreate babybea’s pumpkin, down to the last, smallest detail. Including the little mouse and the side of the tree and the feathers and everything. (frank does do most of the work, because ernest and lemony very much see that this is important to him, but he doesn’t mind them helping, because, yknow. This is about family, and babybea is their family too.) (frank feels like he owes lemony a lot. for trying to set the record straight about their past. or as straight as one could try and set it, with what all of them did. for their niece. for making ernest happy.) (ernest deserves to be happy, with everything they put each other through. ernest thinks the same for frank, too.) 

(ugggggg if you told the three of them when they were so much younger that one day they’d stay up late recreating their niece’s perfect pumpkin masterpiece so she’s not upset about the passage of time………..) 

(who’s in charge of the bed and breakfast while all of this is happening?? 

ernest: mallory, you’re in charge. mallory, a twenty-two year old with a major in hotel management who runs the front desk when ernest and frank can’t: sounds like a plan. 

mallory has a deep respect for the denouements. meanwhile – 

mallory: so you’re lemony snicket. lemony: i am, yes. mallory: you don’t look like your photo. lemony: that’s my legal representative. he has a stamp.) 

meanwhile meanwhile – it is not necessarily about the pumpkin. 

For babybea’s part, she already firmly believes that there is some sort of magic in the world. Even at twelve. Especially at twelve!! Look, she knows it wasn’t magic that reunited her with her family, that it was her and lemony’s hard work, but she wound up with SO much more family than she expected, when she first contacted lemony. And like, that is what there’s magic in. this whole group of people who care about her and love her and want to spend time with her. Babybea thinks she has the best family in the whole entire world. (AND SHE’S RIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!) 

But that is also babybea’s problem right now. She loves her family so much, and she loves having them, and it’s been a couple months but she is still not entirely comfortable with people she loves being so far away from her. Not now! Not when they’re all supposed to be in the same space, like they’re supposed to be!! And some kids at school have teased her, not so much about her puzzle-piece family but that she talks about her uncles so much. She’s just proud of her family and she loves them!! But middle schoolers are like, rude as fuck sometimes, okay. And they don’t even think they’re saying anything wrong, just offhand comments about how much she talks about them. They don’t even know anything about her parents, not really, but babybea starts to feel like, it’s the unspoken throughline in what they’re saying, why doesn’t she ever talk about them? Why only her uncles, her guardians? They’re her family, but – 

she feels almost guilty, that she goes through periods where she doesn’t even think of her parents at all, and periods where she can’t stop thinking about what they would look like and what they would be like, and that makes her feel like she doesn’t value the family she DOES have. So it’s not necessarily about the pumpkin starting to rot, what’s making her upset. It’s that, the pumpkin is another thing in a line of things babybea is Thinking about, things that aren’t Going the way she thought they were supposed to go. Her uncle moving out, missing somebody who was supposed to be there, her pumpkin not staying like it’s supposed to, she’s SUPPOSED to love her family but is she loving them right? Is she loving the right people right? Can you miss people you didn’t even know? And babybea has it very set in her head, the things she knows and is supposed to do – this is something she hasn’t quite worked on, but she’ll get to it eventually, she is still twelve – and they keep not happening like that. And now. Something else she worked really, really, really hard on, that isn’t going right either. 

So she spends the week a little gloomy about her pumpkin, and worrying the whole ride friday afternoon after school to the bildungsroman bed and breakfast. Violet and klaus and sunny are very aware of babybea’s mood, and try to cheer her up by asking her about what she’ll be for halloween, but babybea’s heart is not super into this conversation. (she has ideas about a big group costume where they’re all different local birds, but now she’s not even sure about that.) 

And then! She sees her pumpkin!! Glowy eyes and all!!!!! And, mysteriously, those little spots of rot she’d noticed the week before are gone, and, in fact, it looks a little sharper than it had before? And she didn’t think she’d cut the lid quite like that, but! That’s her pumpkin, exactly where it’s supposed to be!!! And it makes her feel just a little better. That’s good. That’s right. But she still can’t, entirely shake off all her previous feelings, about family. But. right now. Her pumpkin still looks very special. 

Later, babybea can’t sleep. So she sneaks out of bed and goes down to the lobby, and sits down on the floor in front of the front desk, and looks at the big painting on the wall, that ernest did of her father. 

This, of course, is where frank finds her. (because frank has never been very good at sleeping consistently, even when there’s nothing to worry about now, and he likes to walk through the hotel to make sure it’s secure.) 

(ernest would say something very clever, like, aha, with a raised eyebrow, but all frank says is – )

frank: hello, beatrice.  beatrice: oh!  beatrice: hello, uncle frank.  frank: may i sit down?  beatrice: yes, please. 

They spend a little while looking at the portrait.

beatrice: um –  beatrice: does it – 

What she wants to ask is, does it look very much like my father, which she then realizes is such a STUPID question if her father was a TRIPLET and she has a mirror image of him right in front of her, who acts like she thinks a father is supposed to act, so, but, it’s not like that doesn’t mean dewey didn’t look like dewey. Just because dewey looked like frank doesn’t mean he only looked like frank. And beatrice forgets, sometimes, that he would’ve just looked just like her uncles. But still! 

beatrice: i mean – the painting, is it – 

But she thinks it’s such a terrible thing to ask!! But frank knows EXACTLY what she means. 

(some time ago, when the hotel had just opened and ernest had just painted the portrait of dewey – 

ernest: i wanted it to look like him. And, it’s not like i, don’t know what he looks like. Looked like. I mean – that could just be me or you up there, couldn’t it. It doesn’t look like it’s him.  frank: no, it does.  frank, knowing exactly what he means and feeling like, he needs to make ernest Not look so abjectly miserable: you don’t look nearly as happy.  ernest, in tears, very amused and touched and still terribly upset: wow! 

The point being, god of course it looks like dewey. It couldn’t be anybody but dewey, even if dewey looks like other people. Dewey looks like himself, he looks like his family, he looks like beatrice, around the eyes. And family means lots of things. It means your guardians raising you, and your uncles raising you, and your father’s portrait on the wall and never knowing him at all, and loving so many people and being loved back by them, whether or not it’s Supposed to be a specific way, and sometimes it means missing somebody, sometimes it means missing different people, sometimes it means being sad for something you’re not sure if you should or could miss, sometimes it means not missing anyone at all, sometimes it means your uncle going to live with his definitely boyfriend even if they won’t say the words out loud who’s also your uncle just on the other side of your family and that doesn’t mean anyone’s going anywhere. Sometimes it means your pumpkin rotting, because things change. uh, does this make sense.) (admittedly, i put a lot of things in this.)

frank: yes, it looks very much like him.  frank: i think about him a lot.  beatrice: ......would he like my pumpkin? frank, without hesitation: absolutely. beatrice: do you like it? frank: i do.

of course babybea already knew that, but it's nice to hear. it's just. nice. it's not, like, everything? just like before. but beatrice is loved by a lot of people, and she loves them, too, and. she feels loved, right here, like she's supposed to, and that's what's Supposed to happen.

beatrice hugs him, and it's not the first time she's hugged frank, but it means more? frank hugs her back.

beatrice: thanks for fixing my pumpkin.  frank: i’m sure i don’t know what you mean, beatrice. 

beatrice hugs him again, and then goes back upstairs. frank looks a little longer at the portrait, and then goes to bed himself, and doesn't get back up until his alarm goes off.

[the-cricket-chirps]

Albert Schnyder (Swiss, 1898-1989)

La balançoire campagnarde (The seesaw in the country side)

1956

[guessimate]

Today we are visiting the Oranges, for whom I rolled My Legacy Shall Go On ROS and I was about to reroll it, but then I realized that Primula Venus has to be literate as an alien from a technologically advanced planet. She needs to write a biography of the werewolf before he passes away. They are obliged to pay her 500$, which might become her little dowry.

However, I still decided to roll again, because this ROS turned out to be more for Primula Venus rather than for anyone else in this house. It was a potentially deadly ROS, but I was hoping it was based on the body skill and as a benevolent watcher, I decided to apply this scenario to the werewolf, who also happened to be the eldest person in this house.

I already thought the food shortage would be bad for the werewolf, but in the end he avoided the death by ROS by a lucky chance (it was not skill-based after all).

Ninurta got 600$ as well as the Loves to Swim trait for winning a swimming contest (at the bathhouse, I assume). In the end it turned out Venus was paid ~1300$ for the book by the game, so I just split the money between the two of them.

~*~

I decided to give this family traits, partly randomized, but I also picked what I thought made sense out of what the game wanted to give me. The werewolf Ninurta Orange Loves to Swim, and also he's a Brave, but Unstable Dog Person, and Night Owl.

I let his son and grandson inherit traits at 50% chance. I also have only the personality check on for now, so sims with any age/aspiration/interests can get any traits.

Damu is an Artistic, Hydrophobic Night Owl, and Angler, with Photographer's Eye. Ninildu is a Brave Hydrophobe, with Photographer's Eye, and he Loves the Outdoors... I know, Photographer's Eye doesn't really make sense, but I imagine they are really good at drawing portraits and still life and such.

I could turn these traits into their 'historical equivalents', but I don't think they really translate that well and I would never remember what all of these defaults stand for. Here is a nice list if anyone needs it though. Photographer's Eye is supposed to turn into Scribe, but I don't like that idea... If it was a Scribe trait, then it could only apply to literate sims.

So the Night Owl trait got passed on from Ninurta to his son Damu. Grandson Ninildu inherited his granddad's Brave trait. He also got the Hydrophobic trait from his dad. It's funny to see how Damu and Ninildu have no love for swimming, unlike their werewolf ancestor.

~*~

Ninildu wanted to teach the family dog some tricks. He also helped around the garden and got the Silver Gardening Badge. He will have to tend to this garden someday himself after all. He'll also take care of the goats and maybe make some cheese if they ever get enough animals for that purpose. I will probably have him open a home business next round.

Ninildu was rolled to become a Family sim. That's the first Family sim in this household. He wanted to become friends with a lot of his family members as a child, so it makes a lot of sense. I will need some romantic prospects for him though...

I think Ninildu has eyes and mouth similar to his father's, but his nose and face shape seem different. I'm not totally sure.

~*~

I've decided I'm killing all elders this round. No matter what, the original sims shouldn't be alive anymore. They all have grown children and at least school-aged grandchildren. They have lived for 7 rounds. That's at least 35 days, and the game was telling me they were 70+ days.

The Oranges will not be taking the inheritance money from grandpa Ninurta. I will set their money to around 4000, and they should end up with ~3600 when Venus moves out.

In case anyone wonders who the ladies Ninurta left money for are, they are his crushes and friends.

He had 1 friend (a head witch, Renee Hanby) and 4 crushes:

the burglar, Brenda Lillard

the garden club lady, Suzanne Lee

the Nature hobby instructor, Kitty Lind

and the Arts&Crafts instructor, Jenna GilsCarbo.

I should marry one of them in, maybe even to his grandson... Ninurta only made out with them, and they probably won't even remember this, because my townies don't have memories. He just really wanted his 5 dream dates, as a Pleasure sim. I guess these ladies have ~400$ dowries now, with his inheritance, so they're fine prospects for lower rank sims.

~*~

Venus is rolling no wants for Nepri. She only wanted to be BFF-s with him. I guess that's wise. He should do the moves on her if he wants to. On the other hand, she should really want to get out of this household filled with men who are unrelated to her.

I have a plan for her if she chooses not to get married. Around the time when she arrived in the neighbourhood, an alien baby was born. This alien baby is already an orphan, and his caretaker will soon die. That means the baby is either 'taken away', or someone is going to find the baby and look after him. I will move Venus to the lot next door, to take care of the baby. These 2 houses were supposed to be apartments to begin with, and I feel like the families would be close neighbours.

Since I was already giving my sims traits, I got some for Primula Venus, too. She's a Perceptive, Athletic, and Proper Genius, with No Sense of Humour.

All she's interested in is maxing out Literature hobby and Creativity skill. Maybe I should have made her Unflirty or something... She made friends with Galfrid Wolfen, so in my book it's fine for her to move into his house instead of staying with the Oranges.

~*~

I zero'd their money at the very beginning of the round, after which they got some inheritance from the emperor. It was ~2350$ total and I decided they could keep it. After all, Ninildu is the emperor's grandson, so he deserves something. Ninurta and Damu were friends with the imperial couple, as well.

~*~

Unfortunately, I sort of failed the 'lent/fast' scenario I thought of applying to all my families. None of the Oranges go to work/school, so I just had to feed them twice per day. But they ate only bread, so it's fine in my view.

Damu wanted to max out his Arts&Crafts enthusiasm again, so I let him paint some portraits of his dad and hang them on the wall.

Everyone in this house wanted a puppy, and I know it's a common want, but because they already have a grown dog, they might get some puppies someday, we'll see.

[herprivateswe]

Informal outdoor portrait of 2555 Warrant Officer William Alfred Tough, 10th Depot, Australian Army Service Corps. Born 23 June 1874 at Mount Harris, NSW, 159 Trooper Tough served with the New South Wales Citizens' Bushmen in the Boer War in 1899. He married Ada Beatrice Goldthorpe in 1902 with whom he had six children. A railway guard prior to his enlistment on 17 September 1914, he embarked from Sydney on board HMAT Berrima on 19 December 1914 aged 40. He was promoted to Warrant Officer (WO) in 1916 and returned to Australia on 11 May 1919. On 1 July 1919 he deserted his wife and children and returned to France, becoming the proprietor of the Café de Sydney in Boulogne-Sur-Mer until his death in 1938. The cafe was subsequently destroyed by bombing in the Second World War. His sons, NX27356 Private (Pte) Clarence Ernest Tough and NX67518 Pte William Albert Tough both served in the Second World War, and both survived captivity as Prisoners of War of the Japanese. See also P11182.001, H01446, and P09356.001.

[vedupadhyay]

Assignment - Mother-Daughter Portraits

Assignment – Mother-Daughter Portraits

Sharing a post which was saved in drafts for last couple of months. I’ve been a bit occupied with other assignments recently plus trying to squeeze time for blog posts can be a challenge while I’m lying around the house doing a very critical task, watching tv. All natural light shots. Sadly we couldn’t change the dresses on this day as it was not allowed. Bright beautiful day but with that comes…

[starfall-spirit]

The Little Prima Donna

For @shallyne

Read on Ao3

One shot inspired by the art above of Feyre and her future daughter. Artist: rosebuds.arts on Instagram Commissioner: Shallyne

AN: This is a spot the easter egg (movie quote) fic. My only hint is to think about the art pose if you can't pick it up from the lines alone. Feyre's Court Discord is not allowed to spoil it.

Also, while my next-gen daughter is normally named Roxanna, this is a gift fic, so I will be using Shallyne's preferred name for her, Nemesis.

Reach out in the comments, reblogs, or my asks if you recognize the art pose or the movie I quote. Fic starts below the cut. ☺

It had been weeks since the skies of Velaris had been so sunny and clear. Summer storms had been constant this year and if rain wasn't pouring down then it was disgustingly humid outside. But just this morning the cloud coverage had finally broken, the sky opening to a beautiful blue as the sun's rays danced over the water and land that made their city. The moment Nyx and Nemesis had dressed themselves and cleaned their breakfast plates they had bolted from the table to play on the open front lawn. Feyre and Rhys had followed them out a moment later, Rhys with leisure reading for once and Feyre with her travel paints and a canvas.

She hadn't updated their family portrait since Nemesis was barely old enough to crawl. Here they were, already eight and five, tussling like a couple of wild animals half the time. What happened to the tenderness Nyx showed his infant sister once upon a time, Feyre didn't know. "Careful, running," she called setting her outdoor easel where she wanted it. Though the ground was mostly dry, her children were quite talented at finding whatever mud remained, taking a few nasty falls and ruining their clothes. Some mudstains of the past had been too severe for laundry soap or magic to get out. Those became their painting outfits on the days they joined Feyre in her studio. Rhys mumbled something from the chair beside her, a smirk on his lips even with his nose in his book. "What?"

"Eight years, Feyre. Clothes are replaceable and fae children are next to invincible."

He was assuming her reaction was still about some deep-rooted instincts about human weakness and poverty. Not so long ago he may have been right. And she still had moments she had to remind herself she could eat her fill or spend money more freely. But not this time. This time was the simple matter of their second child taking after Rhys and being a little prima donna. "You deal with the diva when Nyx kicks up mud on her dress then. She refused to let me pick out old play clothes this morning."

"It's her birthday. You like looking nice on your birthday, don't you?" Unfolding his glasses, he pointedly turned back to his book, long legs stretching out in front of him. She let her gaze linger on certain features on the way back up. The scrawl of ink marking their death bargain, the strong muscles there leading up the rest of his body, the last of his tattoos just peeking past his unbuttoned collar. Every inch of him had been well explored after a near decade together, and yet Feyre still never tired of the sight. "You're checking me out. Again."

"Seeing as you're still the most beautiful male I've ever met, it's a privilege I'll continue utilizing as your mate."

He hummed. "Even with my old man readers?"

"Especially with your old man readers." She leaned over to kiss him before turning her attention to her pallet so she could begin her underpainting.

He paused his reading for a moment, closing the book over his hand to mark his place. "Do you think they'll find this one day? A mate they'll truly love?" She furrowed her brow. They'd touched upon this discussion in ways, casually noting that both their children were bound to break hearts, but they hadn't gone to the depth of a healthy mating bond. Or an unhealthy one for that matter. "You and I have the best kind of bond. If we set that expectation... I don't want to see my parents' fate for anyone, especially not my children."

She took his hand. "Rhys, you're asking a pretty big question, regarding a pair of younglings." The look he gave her begged her to humor him. She sighed. "I don't know if they'll find a bond and be happy, or if they'll struggle, or if they'll be so hopelessly in love with someone else they never find their mate. What I do now is that major conflict is behind us now and we have all the time in the world to let them find out."

"I just—"

A shrill scream had them both standing, only to find Nemesis flying toward them. "Hey, hey, hey. What's going on?"

Just as Feyre had predicted this morning, her daughter's pink birthday dress was splattered with mud and grass from the hem up to half of the skirt, her carefully pinned hair and bow askew. "Mother, he pulled my hair and kicked mud up on me!"

"Well, she started it!" Nyx huffed, always quick to defend himself, whether he was in the right or wrong.

Nose scrunched and hands on her hips, Nemesis raised her chin, her posture nearly perfect. "Ladies do not start fights, but they can finish them," she said haughtily.

Rhys' hand flew up to his mouth, muffling a laugh no doubt. Don't you dare encourage that, Rhysand.

Me? Never, darling.

Both of you need to play kindly," he admonished. "Nyx, it's your job to set an example for your sister." A wave of his free hand and the fresh mud was gone, the birthday dress a pristine pink once again. "How's that, little star?"

"Better. Thank you, Daddy." Nyx crossed his arms, glaring daggers at his sister as she flounced over to Feyre. "Will you fix my hair again? Please?"

Feyre shook her head, eyeing the lopsided half-part and the pathetic bow attached. "Turn around." Retying the small ponytail and sliding the bow in place, Feyre leaned forward to kiss her daughter's cheek. "There you are, my love. Now, be nice to your brother. Nyx, you be nice too. I'm sure whatever happened was an accident. Both of you try to have fun with each other until your cousin comes over." They exchanged a look, and like every other disagreement, this one melted away, right back into a fresh game of tag. "That was your diva."

Rhys chuckled. "Of course, Feyre darling."

For a long while they sat in a content silence, Rhys reading, Feyre painting. "I don't think there’s anything to fear. I think we've both spent so long seeing the worst of the world the doubt always comes first. That may always be the case. But for them, I want to believe there's something—someone perfect for them and what they need—waiting to be found. Isn't that all we can do?"

"Someone waiting," he repeated. "I think you just might be onto something there."

~~~~~

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