#[ i /hope/ that this is okay. but if not-- please let me know! ]

[astonmartinii]

day six: not so home for christmas | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

oscar and y/n are having their first christmas in monaco because of a snow storm, unfortunately this also means they're now hosting most of the grid as well.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 137,094 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: thanks a lot snow storm :( i guess it's our first ever christmas here in monaco

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user1: yall global warming might just be real

user2: you're only just realising it now ?

charles_leclerc: you kids and your complaining - a white christmas in monaco, what more could you want?

yourusername: a christmas at home with our families?

charles_leclerc: families? when you're in your adopted father-in-law's home city, i'd watch your tone if i were you

oscarpiastri: if you think of your kids as often as you say then you should be worried that your aussie son is going to FREEZE to death :(

charles_leclerc: if it's the bbq you crave, you can still do that?

yourusername: it's snowing? and he is NOT bringing our bbq inside

charles_leclerc: okay jeez, not much christmas spirit here i see

oscarpiastri: we miss our families, sue us

user3: wait... if they couldn't get out of nice... who else couldn't

user4: the storm kicked in like a day ago right?

user5: based on instagram activity, my guess is that max, lando, ollie (idk why he was in monaco anyway), kimi (i think he's attached to ollie), alex (and lily) and george

user6: i know it would never happen but wouldn't it be so cute if we got a grid christmas dinner

yourusername: please don't give them any ideas

oscarpiastri: i only just got rid of them 😩

landonorris: so, just out of interest, is y/n still free to maybe wrap my presents for me?

yourusername: do i look like the christmas fairy to you?

landonorris: well i know for a fact that oscar's ass was not wrapping those presents

oscarpiastri: well y/n actually likes doing things for me soooooo

landonorris: PLEASE Y/N I'LL HAVE TO RESORT TO USING TIN FOIL

yourusername: tin foil... please you are a 25 year old man

landonorris: does it look like i'm a man who has sellotape in his house?

yourusername: no.

user7: y/n is like a full time mum to a load of men all older than her

user8: she better get ready to cook for them at christmas because none of these men can cook for themselves

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 692,108 others

tagged: yourusername & landonorris

oscarpiastri: i'm not sure how this went from our lonely christmas away from both of our families to babysitting half of the grid but what the hell, sure

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user10: i personally blame all of you for this

user11: and what??? i'm so excited

user12: i hope they post nothing more just to spite your ass

charles_leclerc: i’m kinda offended no one thought of coming to mine :/

maxverstappen1: you’re shit at cooking

charles_leclerc: how would you know?

maxverstappen1: i saw it in your vlog

charles_leclerc: you watch my vlogs???

maxverstappen1: NO?

yourusername: okay queens stop flirting and get back to your stations in the kitchen

charles_leclerc: can we flirt there?

yourusername: if you're still peeling - knock yourselves out

user13: y/n basically confirming lestappen? wow christmas DID come early this year

user14: the real question is why she would let those menaces in the kitchen?

yourusername: i have seen how much these people eat, i need help even from the useless

yourusername: also if they want certain dishes from home they have to help

maxverstappen1: i am CORING AS MANY APPLES AS I CAN I PROMISE THE APPLE BEIGNETS WILL BE WORTH IT

oscarpiastri: i know they will be, y/n is making them

maxverstappen1: okay buddy, i don't see you helping

oscarpiastri: i am keeping everyone else in line, that's a full time job as well

user15: who made the youngest couple in charge of these fools?

user16: a comedic genius

yourusername: they're annoying but i'll deal with them for you

oscarpiastri: you make such sacrifices for me, i love you

yourusername: i love you more

alexalbon: we're really not that bad you guys are being dramatic

yourusername: george walked up to our mantle piece, pointed at my baby picture and said "ugly. my condolences" ?

alexalbon: that's george ? he's mean to everyone

yourusername: HE'S IN THAT BABY'S HOUSE

olliebearman

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 418,934 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri & kimiantonelli

olliebearman: first christmas with my big brother :))))

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user17: yall be on oscar about him holding onto the leclerc family joke but the real enemy is ollie

olliebearman: i think it's cute

olliebearman: and it's NOT a joke

user18: you know what? yeah i'd also keep going with the joke i need to get in that leclerc family

olliebearman: the real catch here is y/n she's going to teach me to crochet :)

yourusername: we can make little bear mans !!!

user19: the grid dad stuff was cringey... but grid brother well that's hitting like crack i fear

charles_leclerc: grid dads are cringey ??? count your days

user19: sorry?

charles_leclerc: i (and my family) will NOT tolerate sebastian vettel slander. not now not EVER

fernandoalo_oficial: and me?

charles_leclerc: i couldn't give a fuck about you old man

fernandoalo_oficial: excuse me

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll have you know i am just as much oscar's father as you are

charles_leclerc: and how have you come to that OBVIOUSLY WRONG conclusion

fernandoalo_oficial: WELL i don't know maybe his REAL grid dad is actually mark webber who i have a well documented homoerotic relationship with and therefore oscar and most importantly Y/N are my children

charles_leclerc: what a load of bullshit

charles_leclerc: if grid children were based on homoerotic tension then i'd be father to all of the red bull juniors and max would have custody of the FDA

maxverstappen1: well....

pepemarti: hi !!!

dinobeganovic: hey.....

yourusername: what happened to the original plot of the movie

user20: i think the cabin fever is getting to them

lilymunhe: no they're like this all of the time it's exhausting

yourusername: tell me about it

olliebearman: but not me :(

yourusername: no we love you

oscarpiastri: you are the least annoying one

olliebearman: omg thank you :3

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 163,207 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc & landonorris

yourusername: not so home for christmas but with family nonetheless

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user22: what was the dress code here?

landonorris: what we had left? all the dry cleaners are closed because of the storm

yourusername: you take ALL of your clothes to the dry cleaners?

landonorris: why wouldn't i do that...

yourusername: yk what, whatever !

user23: omg of course leo was there as well

yourusername: we only invited charles for him

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

landonorris: he was invited ????

oscarpiastri: well he was staying in monaco anyway and you guys all invoked your squatters rights in my house so what was one more

landonorris: i am not squatting? my ass is already big enough as it is

yourusername: i know your ass is big because YOU'RE ALWAYS SAT ON IT

oscarpiastri: god i love you

yourusername: i love you even more

oscarpiastri: nuh uh not possible

yourusername: i love you so much i'm not even that angry about half of the grid crashing our christmas

oscarpiastri: i love you so much that i personally barged a child out of the way to get you your eras tour merch

yourusername: i do love my merch.... but not as much as i love you

oscarpiastri: you're so romantic

georgerussell63: right that's it, i am SICK of you people pretending you are not enjoying our presence

yourusername: did i or did i not say family ???

oscarpiastri: george i'd appreciate if you didn't talk to y/n this way

maxverstappen1: yeah back the fuck off

georgerussell63: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: ummmm y/n busted her ass to make apple beignets for me so i had some netherlands with me at christmas so i would die for her. i am somwhat fond of oscar as well

maxverstappen1: so fuck with them, you fuck with me

maxverstappen1: and you seem to like doing that recently

yourusername: awwww thanks max!

oscarpiastri: we are fond of you too buddy

georgerussell63: how did i lose this?

user24: max out here getting wags on his side

maxverstappen1: that's my ma

maxverstappen1: wait that makes my homoerotic tension with charles incest

maxverstappen1: that's my home girl

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and 1,094,577 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: y/n absolutely smashed our makeshift grid christmas and she said she'll accept thanks in qualifying tows or easy passes on track 👍

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user25: oh they want me dead

user26: i would do questionable things to get a slice of that cake

user27: drop the recipe please xxx

yourusername: oh babe i be following the tiktoks like the rest of yall - i'll repost it

user28: woman of the people

yourusername: babe i don't really remember saying those exact words...

oscarpiastri: PLEASE ! they don't say no to you now you've filled their stomachs

landonorris: he's not wrong

maxverstappen1: you're in my will now

charles_leclerc: you're now my favourite daughter in law

yourusername: i'm your only daughter in law?

charles_leclerc: idk kimi and ollie are pretty attached with their weird tension

landonorris: like father like son

charles_leclerc: huh?

landonorris: huh?

oscarpiastri: ^^ see !!!! y/n please !!!

yourusername: fine.

yourusername: thank you all for coming, i hope you enjoyed dinner and your time with us. i loved spending time with you all but if you wish, i will be accepting thanks in the form of qualifying tows and easy passes for oscar or pornstar martinis from any hospitality

yourusername: happy?

oscarpiastri: yes

oscarpiastri: YOU HEARD THE WOMAN GUYS

maxverstappen1: oh i love y/n but i'd rather put you in the wall than let that ugly orange car past without a fight

georgerussell63: @fia i told yall

yourusername: are you ever gonna give that up ?

georgerussell63: no? and i KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SAT ME NEXT TO HIM AT DINNER

yourusername: you'll never prove it :P

user29: oscar is such a sassy man

yourusername: he gets it from his momma

oscarpiastri: and you :)

yourusername: i will say your ability to watch my reality tv with you is a big factor in how much i love you

landonorris: is that why oscar once woke me up the night before a race by shouting "get her ass lisa" ???

oscarpiastri: we watch real housewives together on facetime :)

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,130,672 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: i made the right choice in son and most importantly daughter in law

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user31: okay the cinnamon buns have thrown me over the edge now

user32: i NEED to know who asked for them

alexalbon: guilty 💅 and they slapped thanks y/m

oscarpiastri: we've been dating for years? like when i was still in f3?

charles_leclerc: semantics

oscarpiastri: no i met and charmed y/n all on my own thank you very much

charles_leclerc: because she saw the future and the potential of our prosperous family !!!

oscarpiastri: at this point, whatever you wanna hear old man

charles_leclerc: relegated below ollie

olliebearman: score !!!

user33: oh these people are never letting this joke die are they

user34: i think we're stuck with it

charles_leclerc: are you people sick of whimsy ???

charles_leclerc: i am ALLOWED to flex my son's amazing choice in women, especially a woman who will make me a swiss roll on demand

yourusername: he does have amazing taste

oscarpiastri: thank you :3

yourusername: as much as you guys were somewhat annoying, we had an amazing christmas xx

oscarpiastri: please do not bother us until march

charles_leclerc: fine. but we're still on for the double date in melbourne?

charles_leclerc: (maybe triple? idk ollie can just bring kimi)

kimiantonelli: score !!!

yourusername: we would love to !

oscarpiastri: i guess you could meet my actual family ?

charles_leclerc: not now oscar, let me enjoy chritmas with you all before you remind me of that

oscarpiastri: okay?

user35: y/n and oscar actually have the patience of saints because if these clowns crashed my christmas i'd be on the news

yourusername: any christmas is perfect with him

oscarpiastri: with y/n, i can get through even the most annoying people

user35: okay yall didn't have to flex on me that hard damn

fin.

note: here's day six! i'm not sure if you guys saw my update post but this series won't be done by christmas day but will stretch to NYE because unfortunately my cat has to be put down :( i've had him for nearly 19 years and it's really hard to think about him being gone so i'm just spending as much time as possible with him atm. anyway, i hope you enjoyed !! xx

[rueclfer]

hi rue .. i’m kinda shy to ask this but can you please do a small drabble of the reader and touya arguing (not quite intense) & touya keeps replying with “no maam” or “yes maam” every time the reader asks questions 💔💔

🚬 oh i could kiss you rn. mhm. thank you sweet anon i stayed up at 2am writing this heh

fratboy touya get out of my heaaddddd

yes ma'am // touya todoroki

the puddles beneath your feet splash against your bare calves with every step.

"for fuck's sake, stop walking so fast." touya's voice calls out from behind you as you turn the corner of the street. the heavy bass of the house party you ran out of slowly drowned into nothing as the rain hit your body.

it was nearly 12am, and the downpour was only getting stronger. your fingers shook as you pathetically rubbed the sides of your arms, hoping to muster up some heat from the friction.

touya reaches out and grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you back towards him.

"you seriously mad at me? after i just poured my heart out for you?" he half-chuckles. "c'mon now sweetheart, at least reject me to my face."

"poured your heart out?" you scoff, forcibly facing him. "what kind of a fucking confession involves punching a random guy in the teeth?"

"that dumbass had it coming to him with or without the confession." he rolls his eyes.

"touya." you shake his hand off of your shoulder. "you can't go around starting fights just because you can't use your words."

"didn't i, though? made it very clear you were off limits." he shrugs, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest as you let a silence fall over you with the droning of the rain.

touya brings a hand up to push his soaked hair back from falling into his eyes. he blows out a breath of air in defeat.

"i'm sorry, okay? don't be upset."

you take a step forward, leaning in just mere inches from his face. touya bites back a smirk as his cheeks grow hot from the proximity.

"you will go back inside and apologize."

his eyes follow the rain droplets trailing down to your lips.

"yes ma'am."

"you will find me some dry clothes."

his gaze continues to follow down the soaked t-shirt clinging to every curve of your body.

"yes ma'am."

"you will take me home."

touya licks his lips, letting the cold water on his lips grow hot against his tongue.

"yes ma'am."

you step back, watching his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, counting all of the droplets that slip from your chin and eyelashes.

"are you listening to me?" your face grows hot.

"mhm. yes ma'am."

"and when we get back my apartment, you're going to properly use your fucking words and tell me how you feel. okay?"

touya reaches his hand up to tuck a stray soaked strand of hair behind your ear, letting his thumb graze against the side of your jaw.

"yes ma'am." he slowly nods his head, knowing that the moment he's alone with you, he'll be using more than his words.

-

touya tags: @kaldurahms-lover @moonchild701 @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm @moonlitmorganite @bitchyfestivalbouquet @touyas-wife

[willaminareads]

too busy

PARING: exhusband!drew x reader

SUMMARY: you and drew had been divorced for a little under a year now. while drew had your two kids this weekend, zach unfortunately let it slip, that mommy had a new "friend". drew was anything but thrilled.

WORD COUNT: 667 words

WARNINGS: possesive drew, angst, fluff, cursing, kids.

WILLA SPEAKS: hey! this is my first fic, on this blog, and i'm so excited!! please note that english is not my first language, so if any mistakes occur, i'm so sorry! enjoy<3

you stand outside his door, waiting for him to open it. you were a little nervous. you didn't exactly have a reason to be, but you were.

"y/n," drew says as he opens the door. "hi, baby, come in. the kids are in their playroom." he ushers you inside, hoping you didn't notice he let the nickname slip. old habits die hard.

you smile softly at the nickname but quickly stop once you notice. this is your ex. hell, not even just your ex—your ex-husband.

you follow him inside his new house. you liked it, though it did remind you of the house the two of you once shared.

"can i get you anything?" drew breaks the silence.

"you have tea?" you ask softly.

"the kettle is already on, sweetheart," he responds in the same soft tone. god, he knows me so well, you thought.

he finds a cup for you and starts preparing the tea. silence falls between you. it wasn't awkward per se, but not exactly pleasant either.

drew is the first to break the silence, still keeping all his attention on your tea. "zach says you've got a new friend." his tone is sharp, not at all soft like the one you'd heard just a couple of minutes ago.

a quiet "oh," was all you could muster up. you didn't know what to say. i mean, what could you say?

he turns his attention to you, handing you the cup of tea. "yeah, that was my reaction as well," he says bitterly.

you sigh. "come on, drew, don't do this." guilt written all over your face.

he lets out a dry laugh. "i didn't do shit, y/n."

"i'm allowed to move on, drew," you say softly, catching his gaze.

"the fuck you are," he sneers, placing his hands on the countertop. "i can't, so you don't get to either." his statement hangs in the air as you stare at each other.

you scoff. "no, you don't get to do this, drew. you fucked up. you didn't have time for us," you say, knowing how to hit him where it hurts.

"don't say that." he looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

"why not, drew? it's true," you state. "you were too busy with your big dreams, and, i mean, it worked out for you," you say, waving your arms slightly. "you have everything a man could want," you taunt.

"you know that's not true," he glares at you.

you shrug. "you can't have your cake and eat it too."

he scoffs at your comment. "right, okay. you're getting on my nerves, y/n," he bites. "you know how much i wanted to make this work. you know how much i love you—"

you cut him off. "loved."

"no, fuck that, and fuck you for saying it," he raises his voice at you. he doesn't do that often. "i'm sorry..." he takes a deep breath. "you know that i still love you. i just want another chance, y/n. let me show you that we can make this work," he says softly, reaching for your hand.

you shake your head at him. "we can't put the kids through another divorce, drew," you say softly.

"we won't," he says. "come on, y/n. we can make this work."

you sigh. "drew..."

"please," he says, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek.

"there's no new guy." drew stares at you, a little confused, waiting for you to continue. "that friend zach says he saw me with?" drew nods along. "it was chase."

"chase? as in my co-star chase?" drew asks, utterly confused.

"yeah... he and maddie came by to help me build a dresser." you bite your lip, your nerves taking over your body.

"oh," he falls silent.

"drew?" you ask.

"so, no new guy?" he asks with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"no new guy." you confirm.

"so... do you wanna marry me again..?" he asks.

"drew!" you exclaim with laughter as you smack his arm.

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[karaeilishh]

Hello! I loveee holiday fics they are just so cozy and cute! Do you think you could write about Billie and reader's first Christmas together, where reader has a tough family life so reader stays with Billie's family and it's finally a holiday where reader is all safe and happy? I'm a sucker for fluff-- hope all is well!

𝜗𝜚 you are my family b. eilish . . .

xmas fic n. 1

“billie, i’m still not sure..” your voice trembles slightly, either from the cold or from the excitement that has been spreading through your chest for the last few hours. this wasn’t the first time you’d met billie’s family, and you could tell they loved you, the way maggie’s eyes lit up when she saw you holding her daughter’s hand tenderly every time you came over to their house. they’d all been so nice to you, but celebrating christmas, no, that was different. you’d probably be too much.

“i’m afraid i’d be a burden to you,” your eyes trail down to where her fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. you could barely feel your fingertips through the snow that was so cold it was hard to feel, but that was okay, her icy hand was warming the frost on your pale red skin. “how it was with my family”

you almost let the memories wash over your thoughts when her soft voice stirs your existence. “angel, look at me, please” her blue eyes, so heavenly and bright, taking on a fairytale hue under the warm light of the street lamp. you look at her, already knowing what she’s going to say, how she’ll calm you down. but you just need to hear her say it, need to know that she’s still on your side.

“how can you think that you’ll be a burden to us?” there’s genuine confusion and worry on her face as the cold pads of her fingers caress your cheeks and you give in to her touch, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “do you think that my girlfriend, the only woman i love, could be a burden to me or my family?”

you can tell how much she wants to raise her voice and shake your shoulders, just to make you realize how much she loves you. how much she wants to spend this christmas with your head on her chest and her fingers softly running through your hair.

“that’s the thing, bills” your brows furrow in an almost pathetic, whiny way as you look up at her. “they’re your family. and i.. i just—”

she shakes her head, tightening her grip on your face slightly, cutting you off from the few words that were almost falling from your lips. “you’re my family” the intimacy of those words makes your heart and stomach drop somewhere down to her feet. your eyes fill with tears incredibly quickly, lips starting to tremble as you try to say anything, but instead you throw yourself into her arms, burying your face in her shoulder. the snow that has accumulated on the boucle of her coat burns your cheeks and temples, but it doesn’t matter right now.

the way she hugs you tightly. this is what matters.

“you have no idea how much they love you, baby” soft kisses on the top of your head calm your nerves, helping you catch your breath and pull away to look into her eyes filled with love. “but i love you more than all of them combined”

it took you a couple more minutes, which billie patiently gave you, before rang the doorbell. your stress almost immediately went away as soon as you saw maggie’s beaming face, greeting you first with a warm hug, ruffling your hair slightly. she treated you like her daughter, always. “hi, my girl!”

you take only a step forward, not even making it into the house, before finneas’s arms wrap around your body. his grip is strong, but it doesn’t hurt at all, only billie grunts behind you. you laugh loudly, letting him lift you slightly off the ground.

"we missed you, little girl. especially shark" his words make you smile from ear to ear and immediately go to find your favorite boy in this house. shark greeted you more joyfully than anyone, almost jumping into your arms. you kneel down to hug him and scratch behind the ear.

"be gentle with my girl!" the menacing voice of billie makes her father laugh, who just entered the room to greet you. "i'm sure she won't mind a big hug" you were a little afraid of him, but the warm look he gave you made you calm down.

you slowly get to your feet, immediately heading into billie's arms and receiving another gentle kiss from her. "feeling better, baby?"

"yes, a lot" your whisper calms billie down, and she can finally take her to the kitchen to make christmas cookies according to their family recipe, because you are part of this family too.

tags - @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxeb, @hopingforgoodblogs, @mybluebossanova

[requiemforthepoets]

stickwitu 𖦹 LN4

PAIRING: lando norris x female!asian!reader

SUMMARY: despite coming from a very wealthy and deeply-rooted traditional background—where family always comes first, your relationship with lando is fully embraced by most of your family, though the very complex dynamics of old-money family expectations often creates tension, causing lando to rethink everything.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, minor mention of violence (punching), traditional family, google translated chinese, crazy rich asian inspired + plot, heiress reader, named character (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), asian culture & tradition, social status, high society, brief mentions of verbal abuse, anxiety, overthinking, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 20.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, before anything else, i wanted to say first and foremost that i’m asian (southeast girlie), so i’m not asian baiting 🥹 and i have many chinese friends to the point i’m familiar with their culture and tradition, but mostly the reference is from and follows the plot line of crazy rich asians—which is my fav book trilogy, but i also did insert my own preference and did my research so that i can properly write this fic better. this is a long fic, bc i added as much details as i could and this is not even finished yet, i still have 2-3 parts in my draft, but somehow i’m satisfied with the end, but let me know if you want me to continue this one. your comment/reblogs is very highly appreciated. okay, that’s enough yapping for me, i hope you’ll enjoy reading this!

You had just touched down in Dubai, the December heat had brushed against your skin as you stepped outside the terminal. It had been a hectic week—first, spending time in Sweden with your family, soaking in the peacefulness of the snowy countryside, and now, diving headfirst into the chaos of Abu Dhabi for the final race of the 2024 season.

Honestly, there wasn’t much time to catch your breath. The car was already waiting for you to drive you to the circuit, while your bags will be brought to the hotel. You had reserved a separate room just in case, but knowing Lando, you both can sort out the details later when you return for the evening.

The drive to Yas Marina Circuit was uneventful, the familiar mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest. Lando had texted you earlier, letting you know he was already in the McLaren garage preparing for the qualifying session. He knew your schedule had been tight and didn’t mind that you were running late, as long as you made it in time. Lando also mentioned you would be watching the session with his family—Cisca, Adam, and his youngest sister Cisca, who shared her mother’s name.

Once you arrived at the paddock, you pulled out the lanyard holding your pass, the one Lando had sent ahead before your trip to Sweden. It had been very thoughtful of him to arrange everything in advance, ensuring your arrival would be seamless. As you walked through the entrance, you felt the familiar surge of attention—cameras flashing, fans calling out for you. Despite having attended very few races this season, you still weren’t used to the buzz surrounding the wags.

Fans of Lando waved enthusiastically as you made your way through the paddock, and you waved back shyly with a polite smile. A few asked for photos, and you happily obliged, pausing briefly for snapshots with those who looked the most excited. Some handed you small gifts like friendship bracelets, bucket hats, and a few letters addressed to Lando.

“We made these for him! Can you please give them to him?” one of the fans asked eagerly.

“I’ll make sure that he gets them.” you promised, and carefully tucking the items in one of the tote bags, then the fans thanked you profusely.

As you continued your way toward the McLaren garage, you spotted a familiar figure—Kym Illman, camera in hand. Kym had always been kind to you, and the two of you had exchanged pleasantries during the previous races. He raised his camera and motioned towards you with a questioning look, silently asking for permission to take a photo of you. Unsure of how to pose, you gave a small, slightly awkward smile. At that moment, a gentle breeze swept through the paddock, catching your hair perfectly. Kym lowered the camera and grinned, giving you a thumbs-up.

“It is a very beautiful shot.” he said as you passed by.

“Thank you.” you replied with a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The McLaren garage wasn’t far now. The hum of engines, faint smell of rubber, and buzz of team radios filled the air as you approached. You hoped to catch Lando before the qualifying session began.

When you arrived at the McLaren garage, the whole place was in full swing—mechanics fine tuning the car, and engineers analyzing the datas. Despite only attending a handful of races this season, the whole team knew exactly who you were. Smiles greeted you from all corners, with some of the team members even giving you a playful thumbs-up.

“Look who’s here! Lando’s lucky charm.” one of the members teased, earning a chorus of lighthearted laughs from the surrounding crew.

You couldn’t help but smile at the nickname that you had heard before. It seemed that your presence at races had coincided with Lando’s wins throughout the season—Miami, Netherlands, and Singapore. The whole McLaren team had adopted the idea that you brought him good fortune.

“I’m not sure about that,” you replied modestly and smiled, holding up the tote bag filled with letters and small gifts. “But I do come bearing express mail for Lando.”

The team chuckled at your remark, their fondness for you were really evident. One of the mechanics had jokingly asked if Lando had hired you as his personal courier, but before you could respond, you saw Jon calling out to him.

Lando was standing a few feet away, deep in conversation with one of the mechanics. At the mention of your arrival, his head turned instantly, and his face lit up in recognition. He strode over quickly, his race suit tied casually at his waist and his fireproofs clinging to his frame. Lando’s smile was warm and genuine as he closed the gap between you.

“You made it.” he said, tone laced with a mixture of relief and happiness.

“I did,” you replied, smiling back at him. “Sorry for cutting it so close.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Lando assured you, his voice soft. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

“Is that…?” he added and squinted.

“Your fans’ stuff,” you confirmed with a grin. “Letters, drawings, maybe some snacks. They handed it over on my way here, and I promised that I’ll get them to you.”

Lando chuckled, the sound warm and relaxed. “Of course they did. Thanks for bringing it.”

“Anytime,” you smiled, and shifted the conversation. “Where’s your family? I should head over to them before quali starts.”

“They’re just outside,” he said, nodding towards the outside. “They’re excited to see you again, especially C. She’s been asking about you since Zandvoort.”

Lando’s fondness for his younger sister was clear in his tone, and it always made you smile. Before you could respond, one of the staff approached Lando, telling him that it was time to start gearing up.

“Here, I’ll help you.” you said as you stepped closer to Lando.

You instinctively reached for the half of his race suit, helping him pull the fabric up to secure it over his shoulders. You made sure that every strap and seam was in place, your fingers moving with practiced precision. You double checked the straps on his HANS device, ensuring everything was in place.

“Strapped in and ready to go.” you said softly, fingers brushing his shoulder as you stepped back.

Lando didn’t move away immediately. Instead, his hands found your waist, his touch was light but grounding. He leaned in slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar warmth.

“Kiss for luck?” he asked, tone a little bit playful but sincere.

You happily obliged, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. As you pulled back, you added a second kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a moment longer.

“Good luck out there, my champ.” you whispered.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Stay close, okay?” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the garage noise. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you smiled as you caressed his back softly. “Be safe out there, okay?”

You gently tapped his back to let him know it was time to go. Lando straightened up, giving you one last lingering look before heading towards his car. Jon appeared at your side, ready to escort you to where his family was waiting.

“Come on,” Jon said with a smile. “Let’s get you settled.” He led the way and you followed.

As you followed Jon, the faint hum of conversation and the clinking of tools fading into the background, he glanced at you with a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you again,” Jon said, tons light and genuine. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You nodded, returning his smile. “It has. The last time was Singapore, I think?”

“That sounds about right,” Jon agreed, then chuckled softly. “You know, Lando’s been counting down the days since you told him you’d be here. He hasn’t shut up about it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at what he said, a mix of amusement and affection spreading across your face. “Has he, now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jon continued, a teasing glint evident in his eyes. “The second he got that text from you, he was grinning like a kid on christmas morning. Every day after that, it was, ‘Do you think she’s really coming? What if she missed my race?’”

You smiled fondly. “I told him I’d be here today, no matter what. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Jon nodded, his expression softening. “He knows that. Lando just really missed you, I think the last few weeks have felt longer than usual for him.”

There was this warmth that you began to feel in your chest, and you glanced down for a moment, feeling a bit shy under Jon’s kind gaze.

“I’ve missed him, too. It’s been a very busy year for the both of us.” you sighed.

Jon nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. Between your work and everything with your family, it must feel like you’re always being pulled in a hundred different directions.”

You let out yet again another small sigh, pace slowing just slightly as you responded. “It does get a bit overwhelming sometimes. My family always has something going on, and as the only daughter, well…let’s just say there are certain expectations.”

To those people who truly know you, there is no denying that you were born into a world of luxury and expectations, where wealth was not merely a privilege but a legacy. To the public eye, you are known simply as Lando Norris’ girlfriend, the quiet yet sophisticated partner of the Formula 1 star. A strikingly gorgeous young woman whose life seemed to orbit the vibrant universe of the McLaren driver. But to these people who moved in the shadows of high society, those who deeply understood the intricate web of power and legacy within Asia’s upper echelons, knew better.

You were an heiress to two of the most prominent and affluent families in Southeast Asia. A woman born not merely into massive wealth, but into legacy, responsibility, and the unrelenting expectations of old money.

Your father’s family were the pinnacle of Singapore’s old money elite. Their fortune, amassed over generations through banking, real estate, trade, and monopoly of palm oil, it had not only survived but flourished in the modern era. Your mother’s lineage, although equally stories and affluent, paled in comparison to the vast empire your father’s family presided over.

You were born the youngest and only daughter in a family dominated by male cousins and brothers, an anomaly in a lineage often associated with patriarchal values. This made you a darling in your grandmother’s eyes, a singular beacon of grace and femininity in a sea of potential heirs. They adored you, lavishing you with attention and grooming you from a young age to carry the family’s mantle with such poise.

Your life was a delicate balancing act. While your family taught you to embrace privilege, they instilled in you a deep understanding of responsibility. Money was not to be spent flippantly, power was not to be flaunted, and fame was to be avoided unless it served a greater purpose. Unlike some of your cousins—whose reckless behavior often flirted with scandal and making their privilege a playground, you were a model of decorum. Never appeared in any tabloid headlines, never indulged in public extravagance, and always carried yourself with the grace befitting a young woman of your stature.

He tilted his head sympathetically. “And you balance all of that on top of everything else? No wonder Lando’s so proud of you.”

Jon’s words had caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. “He said that?”

“All the time,” Jon replied, his smile never fading. “He brags about you more than you probably realize. How hardworking you are, how you always seem to manage everything with such grace. Lando’s your biggest fan, you know.”

The sincerity in Jon’s voice brought a soft smile to your lips. “That really means a lot.”

“Well, it’s true,” Jon said simply. Then, with a gentle nudge towards ahead, he added, “and speaking of people who adore you, Lando’s family is just up there. I know they’ve been really looking forward to seeing you too.”

You glanced toward the familiar faces waiting to see you again in the designated seating area, feeling a wave of warmth and comfort at the sight.

“Thank you, Jon.” You said, tone sincere.

“Anytime,” he replied, stepping aside to let you continue forward. “Enjoy the qualifying, and don’t stress out too much, he’ll do great, especially with you here.”

You gave him a grateful nod before making your way towards Lando’s family. After the little talk you had with Jon, it made you feel a sense of calm as the conversation replayed in your mind.

As soon as you stepped into the designated seating area, Cisca—Lando’s youngest sister, spotted you and she smiled instantly. Her face broke into a wide smile, and before you could say a word, she was already rushing towards you, arms outstretched.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms tightly around you. “I’ve missed you so much!”

You laughed softly, hugging her back just as tight. “I’ve missed you too, C! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”

She pulled back slightly, still holding onto your hands as her eyes sparkled with excitement. “It has been forever! The last time was in the Netherlands, right? That was ages ago!”

“It really was,” you agreed, nodding. “How have you been? How’s everything at uni?”

Her expression turned slightly more serious, though her enthusiasm didn’t dissipate. “Busy, but good. I’ve been swamped with assignments, but it’s not too bad. It’s so nice to take a break and be here for the weekend.”

You smiled. “I’m glad you could come, I’ve missed seeing you so much.”

Cisca’s grin widened, and she squeezed your hands again. “It’s not the same without you here. Oh!” Her expression shifted slightly, as if she had just remembered something. “Flo couldn’t make it, though. She’s stuck in the UK with work stuff. She’s really sad about missing this race.”

Your shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. “Oh no, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing her too.”

“She said she’ll definitely call you, though!” Cisca assured you. “And she made me promise to give you a big hug from her, so—” she threw her arms around you again, squeezing dramatically.

You laughed, hugging her back. “Well, make sure to tell her I missed her too, okay?”

“Will do,” Cisca said brightly, looping her arm through yours. “Come on, Mum and Dad have been dying to see you.”

She guided you toward the rest of the family, where Adam and Cisca—Lando’s mother, were seated. The moment they saw you, their faces lit up with happiness, and they both stood up to greet you.

“Finally!” Cisca said, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been far too long, dear. How have you been?”

You smiled, returning her embrace. “I’ve been good, just keeping busy as usual. It’s so nice to see you again, though. I’ve missed you all.”

Adam was next, wrapping you in his own hug. “We’ve missed you too,” he said with genuine warmth. “It’s not often we get to catch up with you these days.”

“I know,” you said, pulling back to look at them. “It’s been way too long. How have you all been?”

“Busy as always,” Cisca replied, her tone light. “But we’ve been keeping up with Lando and with you, whenever he mentions you. He’s been so excited for you to be here this weekend.”

You smiled shyly, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. “I’ve been looking forward to it, too. It’s such a big weekend for him, and I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything.”

“Exactly what he said about you coming,” Adam added, his smile deepening. “You’ve always been his lucky charm, you know.”

Your cheeks warmed at Adam’s comment. Cisca then motioned for everyone to sit back down. “Let’s sit and catch up before things get underway.”

Settling into the seat they saved for you, and the conversation began flowing naturally as they asked how you had been, about your family, and how your trip to Abu Dhabi had been so far. Their genuine interest made you feel at home, easing any nervousness you had felt earlier.

The qualifying had soon started, you could hear the roar of the engines and the buzz of the crowd filled the air as the qualifying session began, and you could not ignore the nervous energy swirling inside you. You are sitting with Lando’s family, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you watch the screens displaying the lap times. Every sector Lando completed brought a new wave of anticipation.

Adam leaned closer to you, his voice low but reassuring. “He’s doing well, isn’t he? Look at those times.”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the screen. “He is, but it’s so close. Ferrari’s right there.”

Lando’s little sister gripped your arm excitedly. “Don’t worry, he’s got this. He’s been in such good form all weekend, he always does better when you’re here.”

You gave her a small smile, her confidence was comforting. “I hope so. This race means so much for McLaren, and for him.”

When Lando crossed the line with the fastest time in the final moments of Q3, the garage erupted in cheers. His name flashed at the top of the leaderboard, with Oscar right behind him in P2. A front-row lockout for McLaren for tomorrow’s main race. Relief and pride washed over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

“He did it!” Cisca cheered, jumping out of her seat. She hugged you. “You must be so proud of him.”

“I am.” You admitted softly, your voice filled with emotions.

Adam stood up, motioning for everyone to head down the barricades. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him.”

All of you made your way through the bustling paddock and found a spot at the side of the parc fermé, where Lando and Oscar had already parked their cars. Lando had just stepped out of his car, removing his helmet and running a hand through his damp curls. You could see the exhilaration on his face as he congratulated Oscar, the two exchanging words and pats on the back.

The media reporter quickly surrounded Lando for a post-qualifying interview. You waited patiently, your heart swelling with pride as you watched him speak confidently. His excitement was contagious, and you yourself couldn't stop smiling.

As soon as his interview wrapped up, his mother called out to him. “Lando!”

The reporter gestured toward the barricade where you and his family stood. Lando’s eyes immediately found you, his face lighting up even more. Without any hesitation, he walked over.

“Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad.” he greeted, pulling both of his parents into a hug. Adam clapped him on the back proudly.

“Well done, son!” Adam said. “That was brilliant.”

“Thanks dad.” Lando replied, grinning.”

Lando then turned towards his younger sister, who threw her arms around him. “Pole position! You’re amazing!”

He laughed, hugging her tightly. “Thanks, Cis. I couldn’t let you down, could I?”

Finally, his gaze landed on you. Lando’s smile softened, and stepped towards, wrapping his arms around you without a word. You felt his body relax against your as you hugged him back, fingers lightly brushing the back of his neck.

“Congratulations, my love.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise around you.

Lando didn’t reply immediately, he just held you tighter, his face buried in the crook of your neck. The embrace lingered, and you heard his younger sister and mother giggling beside you.

“You two are so cute!” his younger sister teased.

Cisca was also quick to join. “Stay just like that for a second.”

You heard a faint sound of a camera click and already knew that she had taken a photo. Lando finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hand resting on your waist.

“Thanks for being here,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “It means everything.”

You smiled, brushing a stray curl off his forehead. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Lando leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Before you could let out a response, a team member called for Lando, reminding him that he needed to go and receive the pole position award.

“Go,” you said softly, giving him an encouraging nod. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

He smiled and gave your waist a quick and gentle squeeze. Lando turned and jogged towards Oscar, where they walked together to receive their award, leaving you with his family, who were all grinning from ear to ear.

Later that evening, you all went out for dinner. The dinner with Lando’s family was warm and celebratory, one that’s filled with laughter and easy conversation. After the plates were cleared and goodbyes exchanged, you and Lando made your way back to the hotel, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, guiding you towards the car.

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet, a comfortable silence that comes after a day full of emotions and celebration. Lando’s hand rested lightly on your knee, his thumb gently tracing small circles through the fabric of your skirt. He glanced at you, expression soft and content.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and warm.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Lando smiled back, squeezing your knee lightly. “I’m glad that you were here, though. Made everything all better.”

When you arrived at the hotel, the soft hum of classical music played in the background, and you approached the concierge desk to sort out your room. Lando stood beside you, both hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, watching as you spoke with the staff.

“Hello, good evening,” you began politely, offering a small smile. “I’d like to make a change to my booking. I’ll be staying with him instead.” You gestured toward Lando, who gave the concierge a friendly nod.

The concierge returned your smile. “Of course, Miss. Let me pull up your reservation.”

As the staff worked, Lando leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing as he put an arm around your waist, pulling you gently towards him. “You could’ve just stayed with me from the start, you know. No need for all this extra work.”

You turned to him with a small smirk. “I didn’t want to assume, Mr. Norris. What if you wanted your own space to focus?”

Lando chuckled, his hand gently squeezed your waist. “You’re my focus, you should already know that by now.”

The concierge handed you a confirmation slip, smiling as they spoke. “It’s all sorted, Miss. We’ve removed the extra booking, and your luggage will be sent up to the suite shortly. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you so much.” You said.

His hand made its way to your lower back, as he began guiding you towards the elevators. “Shall we?”

You both made your way up in the elevator, the quiet hum of the machinery filling up the silence. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to your floor. Lando led the way to the suite, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. The room was spacious and luxurious, with a view of the glittering Dubai skyline. Your luggage was already neatly placed near the wardrobe.

Lando removed his shoes and tossed them off somewhere in the room, and turned to you. “Home for the night.” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You smiled, stepping further into the room. “Not bad for a last minute arrangement.”

“Nothing but only the best for you.” he grinned. Lando wasted no time tossing himself onto the bed. “Finally. This bed feels like heaven.”

You set your bag gently on the table and slipped off your heels, wincing slightly as your feet adjusted. Lando peeked up from the pillow, watching you with a soft smile.

“Come here,” he said, stretching out his arms towards you, voice laced with exhaustion but still soft. “I need you.”

You chuckled at his eagerness, but the invitation was too tempting to resist. Padding over to the bed, you climbed gently beside him, and when you settled in, his arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you flush against him.

Lando buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers idly traced patterns along your waist. The weight of his embrace was grounding, and you both simply stayed there, enveloped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

For a moment, neither of you had said anything. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional sound of his breathing. It was a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of his race weekend.

“So,” he began, pressing little kisses on your shoulders. “How was Sweden? Did you have fun?”

“I did, and it was wonderful. Dad was asking about you, actually.” you said.

“Oh?” Lando’s tone lifted with interest. “What did he say?”

You smiled faintly. “He wanted to know when you’d be joining us again because, and I quote, ‘I need someone under forty to keep me entertained on the golf course.’”

Lando chuckled. “I’ll need to work on my swing. Your dad takes it so seriously, and I can’t embarrass myself again.”

You laughed, the memory of their last game played in your mind. “He still talks about the time you hit the ball into the lake.”

“Hey, that was a strategic move,” Lando teased, tightening his arms around you slightly. “But it’s good to know that you had fun. What else did you do?”

You sighed, tone shifting slightly. “I got to see my nieces and nephews. They’ve all grown so much, it’s crazy how time flies.”

Lando tilted his head, sensing the change in your voice. “But?”

You hesitated, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “It’s just, it felt different. Alexander wasn’t there.”

He did not say anything, not interrupting and letting you speak your thoughts as he held you close.

“It doesn’t feel right, you know?” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “The family’s not complete without him. It’s been years, but every time we’re all together, his absence is so obvious and I fucking hate it.”

Lando kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he softly said. “I know how much that hurts you.”

You nodded, eyes closing as you let yourself feel the comfort of his presence. “I just wish things could go back to how they were before. But I know that’s impossible.”

“He’s my brother, you know? No matter what happened with my Dad, he’s still family. It just feels so unfair, like he was cut out of all of our lives over something he couldn’t control.” you continued. “I don’t know, it’s just hard. Being with everyone in Sweden reminded me how much I miss him.”

Your father’s family were notorious for their obsession with discretion. Your father had made it abundantly clear that the family name was sacrosanct, a legacy to be protected no matter what cost. Scandals—no matter how small, were intolerable, and your upbringing reflected this philosophy. Among your siblings, the family dynamic had always been a complex one, you and your three older brothers were raised with a rigid sense of propriety, each word, actions, and even the company you kept was scrutinized.

Your eldest brother, Harrison Jr., is a lawyer and married to Katherine Yeo, a member of the influential Yeo family, and a partner of Singapore’s most prestigious law firm. Your second brother, Christopher, is a renowned doctor and married to Isabelle Lim, a member of the influential Lim family, a family that has big influence when it comes to the field of medicine.

Then there’s Alexander. Alexander is your third brother, who had to bear the brunt of defying these expectations. His decision to marry a woman your father deemed a commoner or beneath your social status resulted in his disownment and disinheritance—a decision that greatly affected the whole family. Yet, he remained close to you, valuing your bond over the rigid expectations of your father.

From the perspective of an outsider, your father is a paragon of dignity and control. But within the confines of your family’s estates, your father is a strict and controlling patriarch, a man whose word is final. For him, every decision—no matter how personal, is weighed against its potential impact on the family’s image.

Relationships, in very particular, are heavily scrutinized. Your father despises out-of-wedlock unions and views any romantic involvement with someone beneath your family’s status as a betrayal of tradition and status. His stance is not merely theoretical, it is absolute. This was most painfully evident when your father disowned and disinherited Alexander for marrying a woman he deemed unworthy of your family name.

For a moment, Lando didn’t say anything, his hand still tracing comforting patterns on your waist. Then he spoke, voice steady. “You love him, and that’s what matters. Even if things aren’t perfect, even if your family isn’t whole, the love you have for him hasn’t gone anywhere. I’m sure he knows that.”

His words struck a chord, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You nodded, not trusting your voice enough to speak.

Lando kissed the top of your head, his hand slipping up to gently cradle it. “You're amazing, you know that? Your family’s lucky to have you. Alexander’s lucky to have you.”

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in his warmth, the weight of the day and the conversation slowly fading as his presence calmed you down.

The steady rise and fall of Lando’s breathing filled the room, grounding you as you stayed wrapped in his arms. His warmth and the way he held you so close reminded you of just how much you missed this—missed him. It was moments like these that made the distance and the time apart feel unbearable.

You shifted slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were soft, a little tired from the long day, but they lit up the moment they met yours. He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, voice low and comforting.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve been thinking,” you began, voice quiet but steady, “about how much I hate being apart from you. It's just hard sometimes, you know?”

Lando’s expression softened even more, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hate it too. But we make it work, right? We always do.”

You nodded, taking a steadying breath before continuing. “We do. But it doesn’t have to be this way anymore.”

His brows furrowed slightly, curiosity and a hint of confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You sat up a little, propping yourself on your elbows so you could look at him fully. “I was going to tell you earlier, but the day was so hectic, it completely slipped out of my mind,” you admitted, a small and nervous laugh escaping you. “But after the season ends, I’ll be moving to Monaco. To be with you.”

For a moment, Lando just stared at you, his expression blank as if he were processing your words. Then, as the realization hit, his face broke into the brightest smile you had seen all day.

“Wait—are you serious?” he asked, sitting up slightly, his hand framing your face.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as you saw the excitement in his eyes. “Yes, I’m serious. I’ve already made arrangements, and I’ll be moving after Christmas. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”

Lando did not waste another second. He pulled you into a deep, loving kiss, his lips warm and firm against yours. When he finally pulled back, his hands still cradling your face, and his grin was unstoppable.

“You’re amazing,” he said, voice filled with genuine happiness. “I can’t believe this. You’re really moving to Monaco?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, laughing softly at his excitement. “I want to be with you, Lan. No more long flights, no more months apart. Just us.”

He kissed you again, softer this time, as if he wanted to savor the moment. “This is the best news I’ve had all year,” he murmured against your lips. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I do,” you teased, resting your forehead against his.

Lando chuckled, his arms wrapping around you again as he pulled you back down onto the bed. “We’re going to have the best time,” he said, excitement still bubbling over. “I can’t wait to spend time with you everyday. Monaco’s going to feel like home for both of us.”

The two of you stayed like that for a little while longer, wrapped up in each other and the excitement of what was to come. But as the exhaustion of the day began to creep in, you both decided it was time to call it a night.

“Shower?” Lando asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he nudged you gently.

You nodded, stretching a little before getting up. “Only if you promise not to pull some sneaky shit.” you warned, earning a laugh from him.

“No promises.” Lando shot back with a grin, taking both of your hands as the two of you headed towards the bathroom.

The shower was quiet, the steam and warmth washing away the remnants of the day as you leaned against him, your bodies moving in sync. It was intimate and calming—a small but meaningful reminder of what you had to look forward to in the months ahead.

When you finally climbed into bed, Lando pulled you close once more, arms wrapped securely around you. “I love you.” he whispered into the darkness, his voice heavy with sleep but filled with sincerity.

“I love you too.” you whispered back, closing your eyes.

As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Tomorrow might be hectic, but tonight, you were exactly where you needed to be.

The morning air was full with energy, and the McLaren garage was a hive of activity—today is the last race of the 2024 season. Engineers and mechanics moved with precision, finalizing last minute checks, while the hum of engines in the background added to the excitement. You had arrived earlier with Lando, his family, and Lily—Oscar’s girlfriend. It felt good to be surrounded by familiar faces, especially Lily, whose presence brought a comforting sense of normalcy amidst the ongoing chaos.

You were a private person by nature, someone who valued the quiet and personal over the public and the performative. While the world of Formula 1 was filled with spectacle and exposure, you had always kept your life out of the spotlight, sharing only what was necessary and only with those closest to you.

This is partially the main reason why the majority of Lando’s fanbase found themselves really intrigued by you. Unlike many others in his orbit, you didn’t have any public social media presence, and there were only rare glimpses of you, often in the background of celebratory posts or candid shots captured at races.

The only social media platform you used was instagram, and even that was private. On it, you only followed a select group of people—your family, Lando’s family, close friends, and a small circle that included a few grid drivers and their girlfriends. Lando, of course, was at the center of it all. The account was not a place for you to broadcast your whole life, but instead, it was a way to stay connected with those who mattered, sharing snippets of your world through carefully chosen photos or stories.

Your appearances at races were rare—it wasn’t for lack of interest or support but dictated by your own commitments and the overwhelming nature of the events themselves. The previous year—2023, had been especially demanding for you as you were in your final year at Parsons School of Design, pouring your energy into completing your degree. Between assignments, projects, and preparations for your graduation, attending races had been nearly impossible. That year, you had managed to make it to only a handful of events, but you knew Lando understood, he always does.

The 2024 season has been no different in terms of your limited attendance. Out of the twenty-four races, you had been present for just three: Miami—where Lando had his first win of the season, the Netherlands, and Singapore. Those three races, however, had been unforgettable. Lando had won all of them, each one holding its own significance, but none more so than Singapore.

Lando’s victory in Singapore had been very deeply personal for you, not only that he won in your home country, but your family had also been there to witness his win, and seeing Lando celebrate with your family after crossing the finish line was a memory that you would always go back to.

While you were familiar with the paddock and the people in it, you never felt entirely at home there. It was vast and vibrant, but it could also be very overwhelming, even isolating. You were not someone who can easily mingle with large groups, and though you were polite and cordial with other people, you didn’t forge many close connections.

However, there were exceptions, of course. Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, had become a friend early on, her warm, approachable, and easygoing nature made her one of the few people you felt comfortable around. Carlos and Lando’s close friendship meant you saw Rebecca often, and over time, your bond grew.

Then there was Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. Similarly, Lily’s grounded and easygoing personality had drawn you in, especially with Lando and Oscar being teammates naturally brought you into her orbit. Much like Rebecca, Lily had a way of putting you at ease, and the two of them became your anchors whenever you were at a race, they were the one who ensured that you never felt out of place.

You really appreciated their presence more than you could ever express. Attending races, even with Lando by your side, often left you feeling out of place. It wasn’t that anyone treated you poorly, it was simply that the environment was so different from what you were used to. The noise, attention, and the sheer scale of it all—it could be a lot for someone like you. Rebecca and Lily understood this, and they had a way of making you feel less alone in the crowd.

As the garage filled with the chatter of team members and the faint cheers from the grandstands outside, you found yourself growing quieter. Your nerves had taken over, as they always did on race days, but this time, it was more heightened. The stakes were higher—this was McLaren’s chance to secure the Constructors’ Championship, a feat they hadn’t achieved in years. The weight of it pressed heavily on your chest, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Lily noticed your silence, her voice cutting through the noise as she leaned closer, whispering softly. “You okay? You’ve been awfully quiet since we got here.”

You managed a small smile, glancing at her briefly. “Just nervous. For both of them.” you admitted, voice quieter than usual.

She nodded, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “I get it. It’s a big day for them, but they’ve got this, and hey, if anyone’s a good luck charm, it’s definitely you.” she added with a wink, trying to lighten the mood.

Lily’s words made you chuckle softly, but the nervous energy bubbling inside you remained. Your eyes drifted towards Lando, who was standing near his car, already suited up and listening intently to his engineers. Seeing him like that reminded you why you always believed in him, even on the toughest of days.

As the minutes ticked closer to the start of the race, you knew you had to wish him luck. With a deep breath, you stepped away from Lily and made your way to Lando, weaving through the controlled chaos of the garage. Lando noticed you immediately, his expression softening as you approached. He turned to face you fully, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey.” he said, voice low but warm.

“Hey.” you replied, hands instinctively reaching for his. His gloves were already on, but you held them anyway, thumbs brushing against the fabric.

“I just wanted to say good luck again. I know how much this race means to you, to the entire team. But no matter what happens out there today, you’re always going to be my winner. My champion.” you said, voice steady despite the nerves swirling inside you.

Lando’s smile grew, and he took a small step closer, his gloved hands holding yours more firmly. “Thank you. It means everything to me that you’re here.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. “I’ll be right here waiting for you when it’s over. Always.”

His eyes softened further, and without hesitation, Lando leaned in, lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It wasn’t long, but it was enough to steady both of you, grounding you before the storm ahead.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. “I’ll see you after, yeah?”

You nodded again, reluctantly letting go of his hands as he stepped back. Just as he turned toward his car, Lando glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a small, reassuring smile before climbing into the cockpit. As he began to settle in, one of the staff members approached you, handing over a pair of orange McLaren headphones. You thanked them with a polite smile and made your way back to where Lily and Lando’s family were waiting.

Lily gave you a knowing look as you rejoined her. “Feeling a little better?”

“A little,” you admitted, slipping on the headphones. “I’ll feel a lot better once this is over.”

She laughed softly, looping her arm through yours. “Same. But we’ve just got to believe in them.”

You nodded, glancing toward the starting grid displayed on the monitors. The cars were lining up, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation. Lando’s car was on the front, with Oscar on his right.

The race began with a level of intensity that immediately set your nerves on edge. Fifty-eight laps stretched ahead, but from the very start, chaos seemed to unfold every turn. Lando, starting on pole, managed a clean getaway and led the race. However, everything behind him seemed to descend into pandemonium.

Your heart jumped when Max, attempting to take P2, tagged Oscar’s rear tire. The collision sent both cars spinning off course, eliciting gasps from the garage. Checo and Valtteri collided shortly after, forcing Checo to retire for the entirety of the race, and Charles—against all odds, surged from P19 to P8. Ferrari clearly had their sights set on closing the 21 points gap in the Constructors’, and the pressure was immense.

The commentators were relentless. Max received a 10-second penalty for his collision with Oscar, and then Oscar himself had been handed a penalty of his own after making contact with Franco, which resulted in Franco’s retirement as well. Oscar’s chances of scoring major points were essentially over, and it became painfully clear that all the weight was now on Lando’s shoulders.

Your hands were clasped together tightly, your nerves refusing to settle. Every lap was a test of endurance and felt like an eternity. You could hear the engineers strategizing, discussing pit stops, tyre degradation, and maintaining the gap. A critical two-second pit stop gave Lando the edge he needed to remain ahead, but Carlos wasn’t far behind. He was relentless, desperately closing the gap wherever he could.

Your mind flashed back to the Singapore Grand Prix. That had been a race to remember, where Lando had led from start to finish, dominating with a 20-second gap to Max. It had been a nerve wracking yet exhilarating experience, but today was different. The margin was razor-thin. The gap between Lando and Carlos hovered around five seconds, and it felt like the entire race was balanced on the edge of a knife.

Your clasped hands are now resting against your lips as you silently prayed. You didn’t care to speak, afraid to jinx anything. Each lap brought a fresh wave of anxiety. You watched as Carlos pushed harder and harder, the gap shrinking ever so slightly, then stabilizing. It was a battle of wills, and all you could do was hope Lando’s calm precision behind the wheel would see him through.

As the final laps approached, your heart was pounding so loudly, and you were sure that everyone around you could hear it. The garage was a mix of tension and muted optimism, everyone holding their breath for the outcome they so desperately wanted.

When Lando finally crossed the checkered flag in first place, it felt like the air was punched out of you. For a moment, there was silence in your mind, and then the world came rushing back as the whole McLaren garage erupted in cheers.

Engineers, mechanics, and all of the staff jumped up and down, fists pumping in the air. Lando’s race engineer came over the radio, his voice cracking with emotions as he congratulated Lando not just on the win, but securing the Constructors’ Championship for McLaren.

You could not believe it. The realization of what had just happened hit you like a tidal wave, washing away all the tension and anxiety that had built up over the past fifty-eight laps. Lando had won. Not only had he won the race, but he is a runner up in the World Drivers’ Championship, and most of all, he had delivered McLaren their first Constructors’ Championship in twenty-six years.

It felt surreal. The garage continued celebrating around you, but for a moment, you stood frozen, taking it all in. The cheers, shouting, hugs, and the overwhelming sense of happiness that filled the air. Then, almost instinctively, you joined in. Something came over you, a burst of emotion you rarely let out, and you found yourself jumping up and down with everyone else, unable to contain the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins.

You could feel tears welling up before you even realized you were crying. Not just small tears either, but full, unrestrained sobs of happiness. You were crying so hard it was difficult to catch your breath, but you did not care. The weight of the moment was too much to hold in, you hugged Cisca tightly, burying your face against her shoulder as she squeezed you back. She, too, had tears in her eyes.

“He did it. He really did it.” her voice cracked.

“I’m so proud of him.” you managed to say between sobs, your voice trembling with emotions.

Cisca smiled through her own tears and cupped your cheeks for a moment, her pride mirroring your own. You turned next to Adam, giving him a quick but heartfelt hug before you turned to. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around her. She laughed softly, her own eyes glistening, and held you tightly.

“This is insane,” Lily whispered, shaking her head as she let out a breathless laugh. “He was amazing today.”

You nodded fervently, unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside you. Perfect didn’t even begin to describe it. Everything had gone right this week—no deleted lap times during qualifying, pole position won by a margin that silenced all doubts, led every lap of the race with a calm precision that made it look effortless, managing his tyres like a seasoned champion, even with Carlos breathing down his neck for most of the race, and most of all, staying composed under immense pressure, the kind of pressure that would have unraveled almost anyone else.

Your chest swelled with pride as you thought about it. Lando had brought back the crown to McLaren, a team that had not tasted this kind of glory in over two decades. Twenty-six long years since their last Constructors’ title, and Lando had done it, not just for himself but for the team, for the legacy.

This was not just a win. It was history, and you are here to witness all its glory. You felt overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, but beneath the tears and the adrenaline was an overwhelming sense of pride. Pride for Lando, who had worked tirelessly for this moment. Pride for McLaren, who had never given up, and pride for this race, this perfect ending to an unforgettable season.

You wiped your tears, a smile breaking through as you took a deep breath. Lando had really done it, and you could not have been happier to be by his side for it all.

The energy under the podium was incredible, sea of papaya erupting into cheers as the three drivers took their places. You stood close to Cisca, both of you craning your necks to get the best view of the podium. The wide smile on her face mirrored your own, both of you practically glowing with pride.

Charles stepped onto the third spot to a round of applause. Carlos followed, climbing to the second step, where the McLaren fans cheered for him too, though the cheers were louder, almost deafening, when Lando finally appeared. He bounded up to the top step, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile as he took it all in—the crowd and cameras.

Lando looked happy, truly happy. For a brief moment, his eyes scanned the crowd below, and when they landed on you, his smile grew even brighter. Without thanking, you blew him a flying kiss, and you could see the subtle way his shoulders relaxed, grin softening into something so tender it made your heart skip a beat.

The British National Anthem filled the whole circuit, and everyone quieted down as they turned their attention to the podium. You stood there with your hands clasped, looking up at him as the British flag waved proudly above his head. Lando’s eyes stayed steady, his expression filled with a quiet pride, and you knew he was soaking in every second of this moment.

When the trophies were handed out, your emotions bubbled over again. As Lando lifted the winner’s trophy high into the air, you felt tears sting your eyes once more. You clapped so hard your palms began to sting, but you didn’t care.

“Yes, Lando!” you Found yourself shouting, your voice mixing with the cheers of the teams and fans around you. Beside you, Cisca let out a joyful whoop, and you both exchanged a quick, tearful hug.

“That’s our boy.” Cisca whispered, and you nodded.

Then came the Constructors’ trophy, a moment you had been waiting for all day. Zak stepped forward to receive it, raising it high above his head with both hands as the crowd erupted in cheers. The sight of that massive trophy, finally back in McLaren’s hands after twenty-six years, made your heart swell with pride.

It was time for the spraying of champagne, and Lando immediately did his iconic champagne pop, spraying everyone with abandon. You laughed as Lando and Carlos shared a grin, drenching Charles before turning on Zak. You couldn’t stop smiling, your cheeks starting to ache from the happiness as you snapped a few more photos of them celebrating.

Champagne drenched, Lando joined Zak once again at the front of the podium, and together they hoisted the winner’s and WCC trophy high. You quickly reached again for your phone, capturing a photo of the moment—the bright orange suits, glittering of the trophy, and ecstatic smiles on their faces. It was a moment worth preserving, a piece of history you would cherish forever.

It was pure happiness on that podium, and looking up at Lando, drenched in champagne, trophy in hand, and beaming like the sun—you felt like the luckiest person in the world to witness it all.

The crowd outside the FIA garage was still buzzing with post-race excitement. You stood among the throng, your eyes scanning the door every few seconds, waiting patiently for Lando to come out. It had been a whirlwind day, and while you understood the endless media obligations he had to fulfill, you were eager to see him again.

Rebecca caught your eye from across the way, standing slightly apart from the crowd, waiting for Carlos. Her tall, poised figure was impossible to miss, and a smile spread across your face as you walked over to her.

“Rebecca!” you greeted warmly, reaching out to give her a quick hug. “I’m so happy to see you! I feel like I haven’t seen you all weekend.”

“I know, it’s been crazy, hasn’t it?” Rebecca replied, her own smile lighting up her face. “But I’m so glad we could finally catch up. Congratulations on Lando’s win, by the way. What a race!”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm at the mention of Lando. “It still feels so surreal, and congratulations to Carlos too. P2, that’s amazing!”

Rebecca laughed softly. “Thank you. He’s been working so hard for this, but honestly, today was all about Lando. He was just unstoppable out there.”

You nodded, your chest filled up with pride at her words. “It was such a tough race, though. My nerves were shot the entire time.”

“I can imagine,” Rebecca said, her tone understanding. “But he did it, McLaren did it. What a way to end the season, right?”

Then, the sound of cheers caught both of your attention. Carlos appeared, his hair slightly damp from the champagne, and a grin spread across his face when he spotted Rebecca. She immediately stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

“Congratulations!” Rebecca said, voice soft but full of warmth.

Carlos returned her hug, murmuring something into her ear before turning to you. “Hey! Did you enjoy the race?”

“I did,” you said, smiling at him. “Congratulations on P2, Carlos. You were amazing out there.”

“Thank you,” he replied, his grin widened. “But the day belongs to Lando, doesn’t it? What a phenomenal drive from him.”

You couldn’t help but smile again, the pride you felt for Lando practically radiating from you. “He worked so hard for this.”

Carlos nodded knowingly. “He deserves every bit of it. Oh, and by the way,” he added, “he should be out any minute now. You won’t have to wait much longer.”

“Thanks, Carlos.” you said, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing Lando again.

Carlos and Rebecca began to walk off as you stayed put, eyes drifting back to the FIA garage door, your anticipation building with each passing second.

Then, the crowd erupted in applause and cheers the moment Lando came out from the FIA garage. You joined in, clapping enthusiastically with the whole McLaren team members, media, and fans as they all celebrated him—the man of the hour, but Lando’s eyes were immediately searching for one person—you.

Lando spotted you in an instant and, without hesitation, made a run towards you. You barely had a moment to process it before he wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into a hug so tight it left you breathless. You could feel his sweat, mixed with champagne warm against yours.

Before you could say anything, he lifted you up and twirled you around. He then put you down, tilted your face up, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so filled with emotion it made your head dizzy. There was no shyness in the way he kissed you—it was all passion, relief, and gratitude.

You could hear the cameras clicking furiously around you, capturing every second of the moment, but you didn’t care. Neither did Lando, it seemed, as his hands stayed firmly on your waist. When you pulled apart, you were smiling against his lips, your heart swelling as he looked at you with pure adoration.

“You did it.” You whispered.

“I did it,” he echoed, his breath warm on your skin. Then he nuzzled his face into your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he inhaled deeply, grounding himself in your presence. “God, I missed you out there.” He murmured softly, voice muffled against your skin.

You stroked the back of his neck gently, still holding him close. “I’m so proud of you,” you said, boice steady but thick with emotion. “You drove like a champion today. I can’t wait for next season, my love. It’s going to be your year, I just know it.”

Lando pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze soft but sparkling with determination. “It’s our year,” he said firmly, his voice low but confident. “None of this would’ve been possible without you. I love you.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his words, and your chest tightened with overwhelming affection. “I love you too.”

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers with his. Lando held your hand tightly, almost as if he didn’t want to let you go, even as the media and McLaren staff began to encroach on his space.

“I have to finish the media stuff,” he said reluctantly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles and bringing it over to his lips, apologizing for having to leave you again soon. “But I’ll see you right after, I promise. We’ll celebrate.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

After a hectic weekend that included celebrating McLaren’s Constructors’ Championship win in Bahrain with the crown prince, attending festivities at McLaren Technology Centre, and dressing to the nines for the FIA Awards, you and Lando finally returned home to his Monaco apartment. The calm of the familiar space was a welcome change from the high-energy chaos of the past few days, even though you knew it would be short-lived.

The December calendar was packed—at least for you, and with Lando tagging along. There was little time to breathe before the next string of obligations began. You and Lando would be flying again soon to Singapore to attend the wedding of Colin Khoo and Araminta Lee, a lavish affair that had already been dubbed as Singapore’s wedding of the century.

The Khoos and Lees were families deeply tied to yours—Colin being your cousin Nick’s best friend and practically an honorary member of your family, while Araminta’s younger sister, Sophia, had been your high school classmate, someone you remembered fondly for her warmth and kindness. These connections meant that your presence was not just requested, it was expected, especially given how your families’ businesses were intertwined.

However, the wedding itself was not the only commitment pulling you to Singapore. You were set to arrive days before the ceremony to attend Araminta’s bachelorette party, while Lando had been invited to Colin’s bachelor’s party. On top of that, your Ah Ma had scheduled one of her signature dinner parties—a must-attend event. The December social calendar wasn’t just busy, it was a finely tuned balancing act, with every minute accounted for.

After Singapore, you would fly to the UK to spend Christmas with Lando’s family. Then, it’s back again to Singapore for the New Year’s Eve celebrations with your family, a mix of traditions and festivities that always made the transition into a new year special. It would be exhausting, but you were accustomed to juggling personal commitments and obligations that came with your families’ global connections.

Amidst the chaos, there was an underlying sense of excitement. December was always hectic, but this year, it carried a certain weight of celebration and happiness. Even with the endless travel, extravagant parties, and obligations, there was comfort in knowing that you and Lando were navigating it all together.

You and Lando have 24 hours to go before your flight to Singapore, and you both stood in the bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases and neatly folded piles of clothes. The room buzzed with quiet energy as the two of you packed, double-checking everything to make sure nothing essential would be left behind. Lando had his usual approach—casual, unbothered, and occasionally tossing random stuff into his suitcase. While you, you were methodical, going down your checklist and catergorizing every outfit and item for the busy schedule ahead.

As you neatly folded a pair of trousers into your suitcase, you glanced over at Lando, who was holding up yet another hoodie and contemplating packing it. You let out a soft sigh, setting your clothes aside.

“Love,” you began, voice soft but teasing, “I know that hoodies and sweatshirt are your favorite, but you do remember my Ah Ma’s dinner party, right?”

Lando looked at you with mock indignation, a playful grin tugging at his lip. “Hey, what’s wrong with being comfortable? Hoodies are versatile.”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “You’re not going to convince Ah Ma that hoodies are versatile.”

“But she loves me, so does it really matter what I wear?” he looked at you, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

You let out a chuckle. “She does love you, but she’s still very particular about dress codes. Hoodies won’t cut it, no matter how much she adores you. Trust me, formal is the only way to go.”

Lando groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Formal? Again? Haven’t I worn enough suits this past few days already?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at his silly antics, you leaned over him and gently squished his cheeks between your hands, making him pout slightly.

“It’s only for a few hours, babe,” you said with mock seriousness, planting a quick kiss on his puckered lips. “You can survive. Also, our fit for the wedding was flown ahead to Singapore already.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer. “Really? You had our outfits sent ahead? That’s very fancy of you,” he teased, voice warm and playful as his fingers lightly traced your waist.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. “It wasn’t my idea—it was my Mom’s. She didn’t want us stressing about anything last-minute, so yes, everything’s already in Singapore, ready for the wedding.”

“Alright, I’ll dress properly. For you, and your terrifyingly strict Ah Ma.” he said, voice muffled by your hands.

“Thank you.” you pressed another kiss on his lips, then wrapped your arms around his neck. “I promise that it’ll be worth it, and besides, our outfits go so well together. We’ll be looking extra cute.”

Lando pulled you closer. “That’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this,” he joked, pressing a kiss on your lips. “Because we’ll look cute.”

With everything packed, you stepped back and returned to your checklist. “Now, let’s go through everything one more time,” you said, grabbing the notepad from your bedside table. “We can’t afford to leave anything important behind.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his tone laced with humor. “We? I feel like you’re the one in charge here.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you replied, giving him a pointed look. “I love you so much, but you forget things. Like all the time. So yes, I’m in charge. Just let me do this.”

Lando raise his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, boss. Whatever you say.” but the warmth in his voice and the way his eyes softened when he looked at you says that he did not mind one bit.

The private jet touched down in Singapore just as the clock struck three in the morning. The hum of the engines winding down felt like a soothing lullaby after the whirlwind of travel. As the jet taxied to the private tarmac, you stretched slightly in your seat, trying to shake off the haze of exhaustion that clung to you live a heavy blanket. It had been days of nonstop movement. From New York to Dubai to Monaco, and now, to Singapore—you were running on fumes.

One of your family’s drivers was already waiting by the car as you and Lando stepped off the jet. The humid Singapore air embraced you like a familiar friend, but you were too tired to notice it fully. Lando, looking equally worn out but managing a faint smile, grabbed your hand to guide you down the stairs. The driver greeted you both warmly, holding the car door open as you slipped inside.

The ride to your home in the high-rise district was quiet, with the city’s nightlife slowly fading into the early morning calm. You leaned your head against the window, eyes fluttering shut as the car glided through the streets. Every now and then, Lando’s hand would squeeze yours gently, keeping you awake despite your jet-lagged haze.

When the car passed through your front gates and stopped on your front door, you stumbled out first, kicking off your sneakers as soon as you stepped inside your home. The plush carpet felt like heaven beneath your feet. Lando followed close behind, carrying a couple of bags despite his own fatigue.

You muttered something incoherent about needing to unpack but barely made it past the living room before surrendering to your exhaustion. With a small groan, you collapsed onto the soft white couch, burying your face into one of the throw pillows.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a second,” you mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep claimed you.

Lando chuckled softly from where he stood by the entrance, arms full of bags. “A second, huh?” he murmured, watching as you curled up tighter.

He set the bags down carefully, and crossed the room to where you lay. Kneeling by the couch, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Out cold already,” he said quietly, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

Despite his own exhaustion, Lando moved with quiet determination. Slipping an arm under your knees and another beneath your back, he lifted you up effortlessly. You stirred slightly, mumbling something that he couldn’t make out, but didn’t wake.

“Come on, sleepy head.” he whispered, adjusting his grip as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Navigating the familiar layout of your Singapore home, Lando easily found his way to the master bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot and carefully placed you on the bed, taking extra care not to jostle you. You sighed softly in your sleep, instinctively shifting to get comfortable as soon as you hit the mattress.

Standing back for a moment, Lando shook his head with a small laugh. “You really pushed yourself this week,” he said quietly to himself.

Tugging the duvet from beneath you, he draped it over your sleeping form before heading back out to bring in the rest of the luggage inside the house. Once everything was inside, Lando returned to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, his hand resting slightly on your shoulder. You didn’t stir, and he just smiled to himself.

“Guess unpacking can wait ‘til later,” he said softly.

Standing up, he turned off the lights, with only the soft glow of the city filtering through the curtains casting a gentle warmth over the whole room. With everything settled, he changed into some comfortable clothes and climbed into the bed beside you, wrapping an arm protectively around your waist as sleep finally overtook him too.

The soft afternoon light streamed through the curtains when you stirred awake, slowly coming back to consciousness. Stretching lazily under the covers, you blinked a few times before turning your head. Lando was already wide awake, leaning against the headboard with his phone in hand, scrolling idly. The peacefulness on his face made you smile softly. Sensing your movement, he glanced down at you, a warm grin spreading across his lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured, setting his phone down on the bedside table. Lando leaned down to kiss you softly, his lips warm and familiar. “Finally decided to join the land of the living?”

“How long was I out?” you asked, voice still raspy from sleep as you shifted to prop yourself slightly.

“Hmm,” he murmured, pretending to think as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “A solid eleven hours, give or take. I think that might be a record for you.”

“Eleven hours?” you said, eyes widening in mock disbelief. “Well, I deserved that. That’s the most proper sleep I’ve gotten in days.”

“You definitely needed it,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’ve been running on fumes.”

Instead of getting up and getting started on unpacking your things, you nestled yourself against Lando’s chest, letting out a content sigh as his arm settled securely around you—your things can wait. His other hand picked up his phone again, resuming whatever he had been scrolling through.

“What are you looking at?” you asked curiously, voice muffled against his shirt.

“Just catching up on messages and stuff,” he replied, his thumb flicking across the screen. “Few banter with Maximilian. Nothing too exciting.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his fingers idly traced small circles on your arm—it was the kind of peace you hadn’t realized you craved after the hectic days leading up to this.

After a comfortable silence, you tilted your head to look up at him. “Don’t forget,” you reminded him gently, “tonight’s my Ah Ma’s dinner party. My family will be sending a car to pick us up at six to drive us to her estate.”

He groaned playfully, letting his head fall back against the headboard. “Already? I was just starting to feel human again.”

“You’ll survive,” you teased, reaching up to pat his cheeks softly with a small laugh. “Besides, you love Ah Ma.”

“That’s true,” he admitted with a grin. “But does she love me enough to excuse me from wearing a suit?”

“Not a chance, my love,” you said, shaking your head. “She might adore you, but rules are rules. No hoodies at Ah Ma’s dinner table.”

He laughed softly. “Fine, fine. I’ll play along.”

Satisfied, you let yourself relax against him again, savoring the calm for another thirty minutes before you decided it was time to get moving. You sat up, stretching your arms above your head before climbing out of bed.

You noticed that you were still dressed in your flight clothes, so you opened your closet and pulled out a pair of comfortable home clothes, quickly changing. As you tied your hair up, you glanced back at Lando, who was still lounging on the bed, scrolling through his phone again.

“I’m going downstairs to grab a snack. Wanna come?” you said softly.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, finally setting his phone aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As he stood and stretched, he added casually, “oh, by the way, Chris dropped by earlier. He brought us some of your favorite food.”

“Really?” you asked, brightening at the mention of your second brother. “What did he bring?”

“Everything, I think,” Lando replied with a grin, following you out of the room. “Laksa, chicken rice, sambal stingray—it’s downstairs. He figured we’d be too tired to cook, and, well, he’s not wrong.”

“Chris is the best,” you said fondly, making your way towards the kitchen. “And he definitely knows you can’t cook to save your life.”

“Hey!” Lando protested, feigning offense. “I can cook!”

You shot him a skeptical look over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, toast doesn’t count.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around your waist while you walked. “Good thing I’ve got you, then.”

“Geez, what would you do without me, huh?” you teased, and he just chuckled.

Lando helped you unpack the containers of food that Chris had dropped off, carefully setting everything onto the counter. You grabbed a few plates and bowls from the cupboard, handing some to Lando while you began separating the dishes. The aroma of spices and freshly cooked rice filled the kitchen, reminding you just how much you had missed authentic Singaporean food.

“Baby, careful with that,” you said, gesturing toward the sambal stingray as you placed it on a plate. “I already know you’re not touching this one.”

“Yeah, no chance,” Lando replied with a playful grimace, taking a step back as if the dish might bite him. “Fish and me, we’re not friends. You already know that.”

You laughed, setting the plate down and moving on to the chicken rice. “Well, I figured as much. I separated the chicken rice for you since it’s the only thing here you’ll actually eat.”

“You’re too good to me,” he teased, kissing you on the forehead and pulling over a chair, sitting down at the dining table. “Though, to be fair, I think chicken rice is objectively the best option here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you carried the food to the table, placing his plate in front of him and your own dish next to it. “It’s not that you don’t like the other options,” you teased, sitting down in front of him, “you’re just a picky eater, babe.”

Lando picked up his fork, grinning. “I’m not picky. I just know what I like.”

“And apparently what you like is the safest, most neutral option,” you joked, scooping a bit of rice into your mouth. The flavors were as rich and satisfying as you remembered, and for a moment, you closed your eyes to savor it. “God, I missed this so much.”

Lando watched you, amused. “I think Chris might love you more than I do with how often he brings you food.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, he is my brother.”

As the two of you ate, Lando paused between bites to ask, “is Nick coming tonight?”

You nodded, wiping the corner of your mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, he is. He arrived yesterday, and he’s bringing Rachel with him, too. He wants to introduce her to Ah Ma.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly in interest. “Rachel, huh? That’s a big step.”

“It is,” you said, nodding thoughtfully. “But I think it’s the right time. They’ve been dating for over a year now, and Rachel’s really nice—very sweet, actually, and you can tell how much she loves Nick. I think she’ll handle tonight well.”

“I remember her from New York,” Lando said, gesturing with his form. “The double date? She seemed lovely then.”

“She is,” you agreed with a soft smile, thinking back to the time you all spent together in New York. “I’ve grown to love her. She became like a big sister to me, and a breath of fresh air. Rachel is really good for Nicky. I just hope everything goes smoothly tonight.”

“Remember when I met Ah Ma?” he said with a teasing grin.

You laughed at the memory, shaking your head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I was so nervous about how she’d react. You were the first person I ever brought to meet her.”

“Well, it went pretty well, all things considered,” he said, taking another bite of chicken rice. “Though I think she was testing me with all those questions about my plans for the future.”

“She was,” you admitted with a grin. “That’s her way of showing she cares, and you passed with flying colors, obviously. Ah Ma adores you, she even calls you a nickname, she rarely does that unless it’s her grandchildren.”

“Guess I made a good impression, then,” he said proudly.

“Of course you did!” you laughed.

“But Ah Ma’s a tough crowd, though. Think she’ll approve?” Lando asked, finishing a bite of chicken.

You leaned back in your chair, considering. “I think she will. Rachel’s got that quiet elegance about her, you know? She’s not flashy, not trying to prove anything. Ah Ma values that.”

“Well, if she’s got your seal of approval, she’ll be fine,” Lando said confidently, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand reassuringly. “And hey, if anything gets too intense, at least you'll have me there to lighten the mood.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand back. “That’s true. You’ve got a way of making everyone like you.”

“Except for the sambal stingray,” he quipped, shooting a playful glance at the slightly untouched plate on the table.

The moment you finished your plate of food, you stood up from the table and made your way over to the fridge, searching for something sweet to finish off your meal. As you opened the fridge, you noticed a small box nestled on the top shelf with a red ribbon wrapped around it and a handwritten note on it. You quickly recognized your mother’s neat and elegant handwriting.

“I hope you and Lando enjoy this sweet treat. Stocked up your fridge for your stay, don’t forget to eat well. Love, Mom.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed the box and headed back to the table. “Look what my mom sent us,” you said, setting the box down in front of Lando with a grin. “Durian puffs!”

Lando gave you a wary look, his face already showing a bit of hesitation. “Durian puffs? You know I’m not exactly a fan of durian,” he said with a playful tone in his voice. “That stuff is…intense.”

You laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. “I know, I know. But trust me, these are different. They’re not as bad as the whole fruit, and they’re amazing when done right. My mom’s been baking them for years, you’ve got to try at least one bite.”

His eyes flickered to the box with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “I don’t know, babe,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “The last time you tried to get me to eat durian…I wasn’t exactly sold on it.”

You raised an eyebrow playfully, knowing it would take a bit of coaxing. “It’s not the same,” you said, opening the box and revealing the perfectly golden, puffed pastries inside. The familiar scent of durian filled the air, and you could see Lando’s nose wrinkle a little. “Come on, just one bite. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Lando stared at the puff for a moment, clearly reluctant but still amused by your insistence. “Okay, fine,” he muttered, finally giving in. “But only because you’re looking at me like that.”

You smiled and grabbed one of the puffs, holding it out to him. “It’s not bad, babe, I promise. I used to eat these all the time when I’m here, and I’ve really missed them. It’s hard to find one of these in New York.”

He took a deep breath and hesitantly leaned forward, allowing you to tear off a small piece of the puff for him. Lando looked at it as if it were a challenge, then took a tentative bite.

You watched his expression carefully, curious to see how he would react. At first, his eyes widened slightly, and he chewed slowly, processing the taste. “Okay, I’ll admit,” he began, voice reluctant but tinged with surprise, “it’s not as bad as I thought.”

You smiled, delighted that he was starting to come around. “See? Told you. It’s a lot better than the whole fruit.”

Lando shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. It’s not terrible, but I’m not sure I’m ready to eat a whole one on my own.”

You grinned, knowing that wasn’t a problem. “That’s okay, we can share. It’s a pretty big puff anyway.”

The two of you ended up sharing the durian puff, breaking it into smaller pieces. You were glad Lando had tried it, he may not have been a huge fan, but at least he hadn’t refused outright this time. There was something so comforting about the familiar taste of home, especially when it was shared with someone who, despite their initial doubts, was willing to try new things for you.

He looked at the remaining half of the puff and then at you. “Alright, you win. I’m not sure I’ll ever be obsessed with durian, but I’ll give you this one. It’s better than I expected.”

“Glad to hear it, babe,” you smiled warmly, happy that he had at least made the effort. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one going for the second puff.”

The moment the clock struck six, you were already standing in the living room, ready and waiting for the car your family had sent to take you to your Ah Ma’s estate. You smoothed the fabric of your black popeline dress, its cinched waist and delicate midi length giving you an air of effortless elegance, perfect choice for the evening. Lando stood beside you, impeccably dressed in his black suit with the two buttons of his crisp white shirt left undone, the effortless style topped off with a tailored black coat. He looks very dashing—confident, yet understated in a way Lando could only pull off. You turned towards him, giving his outfit a final once-over.

“Hold still,” you murmured, dusting off an imaginary speck on his shoulder. Your fingers lingered there for a moment, gently straightening the lapel of his coat.

Lando chuckled softly, watching you fuss over him. “I think I’m good, babe,” he said, voice low and amused.

“You look so perfect,” you admitted with a small smile, your eyes meeting his.

As you stepped back to admire the two of you in the mirror, a flutter of nervousness settled in your chest. Before you could dwell on it further, the sound of the car pulling up in the driveway broke the silence. Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the soft hum of the engine outside.

He noticed the slight change in your expression and reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Lando leaned down slightly, pressing a gentle and quick kiss to your lips.

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his warm hand resting briefly against your waist, and eyes searching yours.

You nodded but hesitated before answering. “I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you admitted, voice barely above whisper.

Lando smiled, warm and understanding, and laced his fingers with yours. “Well, don’t be,” he said, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “I’m here with you. It’s going to be fine.”

The way his hand fit so perfectly with yours instantly eased the tension you did not realize you were holding. You took a deep breath, letting Lando’s presence ground you, and smiled back at him.

“You’re right,” you said softly.

Together, you walked to the door, where the chauffeur was already waiting. You offered a polite greeting, and Lando followed suit. The chauffeur gave a respectful nod and stepped forward to open the car door. Lando turned his attention back to you, placing his hand gently above your head to ensure you didn’t bump it on the way in.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and attentive. He guided the folds of your dress to make sure it didn’t catch in the door.

Once you were in, Lando slid in beside you, adjusting his coat as he leaned back against the plush seat. The door closed softly behind him with a thud, and the hum of the engine filled the silence as the car began to move.

The car ride was smooth, the city lights of Singapore streaming past the tinted windows in a soft blur. You leaned forward slightly. “Is my family already at Ah Ma’s?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the chauffeur replied politely. “They arrived a little while ago.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, thank you.” you replied, tone warm but measured.

“See?” he said softly, leaning a little closer. “Nothing to worry about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his calm reassurance. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted, relaxing into the seat.

As the car turned onto Tyersall Avenue, the familiar sight of the estate’s discreet entrance came into view. There was no house number, no grand signage indicating its presence, it was just two white pillars framing the hidden driveway and a rusty, almost-forgotten sign partially obscured by overgrown foliage that read Tyersall Park. It was understated, nearly invisible to passerby, yet exuded an air of exclusivity and history.

The car slowed down as it approached the entrance, and the soft crunch of tyres on gravel indicated the start of the long, winding path to the estate itself. The path dipped slightly, then climbed up a small hill, where a second set of gates awaited. These gates were far more imposing than the first—ornate yet fortified, with a guardhouse attached.

The guards stationed in the second gate were not your ordinary security personnel. They were Gurkhas, known as one of the skilled and feared soldiers in the world. Their presence was a quiet but powerful reminder of the importance and prestige of the estate they protected. They moved swiftly and efficiently, conducting a quick check of the vehicle and exchanging a word with the chauffeur. Then the gates creaked open, revealing another path towards the estate.

Beyond the gates, an avenue lined with towering palm trees stretched out before you, their elegant fronds swaying gently in the night breeze. The avenue seemed endless, a perfect symmetry of nature and design, drawing the eye toward the glowing silhouette at the very end.

There, perched at the top of the hill, was your Ah Ma’s estate. It was as magnificent as you always remembered, illuminated softly against the night sky. The sprawling sixty-four acre mansion stood like a timeless monument, its intricate details and architectural grandeur untouched by the passing years. The sheer scale of the place was enough to leave anyone awestruck.

Even though Lando had seen it before, he couldn’t help but let out a soft exhale as the estate came fully into view. He turned slightly to glance at you, expression a mix of admiration and disbelief. You caught his gaze and smiled, already accustomed to the reaction the estate always elicited. The car began its slow ascent up the final path of the driveway, the palms on either side growing taller as you approached the estate’s main entrance.

Lando stepped out of the car first, then turned to offer you his hand. You placed your fingers gently in his, letting him steady you as you stepped out. The cool evening breeze brushed against your skin as the soft hum of conversations and the melodic sound of the live jazz band spilled from the open doors of the estate. Lando closed the car door behind you, his other hand naturally finding its place on the small of your back.

The grandeur of the evening was already evident. The driveway was lined with luxury cars, some of which you instantly recognized as belonging to your cousins. The valet attendants worked with practiced efficiency, guiding the vehicles into neat rows, their movements sharp against the backdrop of the estate's golden lights.

You had not expected this many guests for tonight’s dinner party. But as you took it all in, you realized that it was your Ah Ma who decided to throw the party. She never did things by halves.

Walking toward the entrance, you glance up at Lando, who offers you a small, knowing smile. The two of you ascended the short flight of steps together, and as the ornate doors swung open, the dinner party unfolded before you in full splendor.

The grand foyer was alive with movement and sound. Guests mingled in their elegant attire, their laughter and chatter blending harmoniously with the smooth melodies of the jazz band playing in the corner. Servers moved gracefully through the crowd, balancing trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

You were greeted by a server offering a silver bowl filled with water to rinse your hands—a subtle nod to tradition. You dipped your fingers in, feeling the coolness against your skin, before drying them with the soft cloth that came with it. Lando followed your lead, his actions slightly tentative but seamless nonetheless.

As the two of you moved further into the house, your eyes scanned the room, searching for familiar faces. The dazzling opulence of the house was on full display tonight—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the polished marble floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of candlelight.

Everywhere you turned, there were familiar faces—relatives chatting in small groups, family friends laughing over shared memories, and acquaintances dressed to the nines.

Still, the absence of one particular couple was glaring. You glanced around, expecting to see Nick and Rachel somewhere among the crowd, but there was no sign of them yet. But, you quickly spotted your parents standing near the grand staircase, deep in conversation with one of your family’s close friends and business partners. You nudged Lando gently, and together you made your way over to them.

The moment your parents saw you, their faces lit up. Your father greeted you first, his smile wide and welcoming. “Ah, you’re finally here,” he said warmly, pulling you into a brief embrace before turning his attention to Lando. “Lando! It’s good to see you again.”

Lando grinned, shaking your father’s hand firmly. “It’s great to see you too, sir.”

Your father wasted no time, immediately congratulating him. “That was an incredible race in Dubai—phenomenal drive! Congratulations on the win, both yours and McLaren’s. It's very well deserved.”

“Thank you. It has been an incredible season,” Lando replied, voice filled with modesty. “But it was a team effort, really.”

The two of them quickly fell into a deep conversation, with your father mostly asking about the race and McLaren’s celebration plans, clearly very eager to hear more.

You turned to your mother, who had been quietly observing the exchange with a smile. “Mom, where’s Ah Ma?” you asked, leaning in slightly to avoid raising your voice over the lively music.

“She’s still getting ready,” your mother replied with a knowing look. “You know how she is with these things, everything has to be perfect.”

You just nodded, though you couldn’t help but glance around the room again, taking in the number of people. “I thought this was only supposed to be a small dinner party,” you said, with a hint of surprise in your tone. “It looks like Ah Ma invited half of Singapore.”

She chuckled softly, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Ah Ma decided to invite everyone. She said that it’s been too long since she’s hosted a big gathering. Besides,” she added, lowering her voice slightly, “her Tan Hua is going to bloom tonight. She wanted everyone to see it.”

The mention of Tan Hua caught your attention. It is a rare flower known for its elusive and short-lived bloom—a source of pride for your Ah Ma. It was not just a flower, it was a spectacle, a family event in itself. You smiled faintly, imagining her excitement as she planned this evening down to the last detail.

Your mother smiled knowingly at the look on your face. “Don’t worry, my dear, everything will be perfect. Your Ah Ma wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You had only been standing with your family for a few minutes when you caught sight of Nick and Rachel making their way into the house. Relieved and happiness washed over you at the sight of the couple, and with a polite smile, you gently excised yourself and Lando to go greet them. As you approached, Nick’s face lit up, and Rachel’s warm smile mirrored your own. You immediately pulled Nick into a hug, patting his back affectionately.

“Nicky! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” you said, stepping back slightly to greet Rachel. “It’s good to see you,” you said sincerely, your smile widening.

Rachel replied softly, “we wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Before you could even mutter a new response, the unmistakable voice of your cousin Eddie cut into the moment. Inserting himself into the conversation with his usual air of self-importance.

“Nicky boy! Long time no see!” He clapped Nick on the shoulder, then turned his sharp gaze to Rachel. “And this must be Rachel! I’m Eddie.” he said, tone teetering on the edge of charming and patronizing.

Rachel, ever polite, offered her hand for a brief shake and smiled lightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered to you and Lando next, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ah, I see you’ve already met the princess and her prince.”

The exaggerated emphasis on the titles almost made you roll your eyes. You didn’t bother hiding the subtle tilt of your head as you fixed him with a pointed look, but Lando only smiled faintly, his hand resting at your back.

Eddie was treading carefully. He always does whenever he’s around you, especially after the infamous incident when you were kids. You had punched him squarely on the face for saying something particularly offensive, and he had cried so loudly that half of the family came running to see what had happened.

That memory was enough to make Eddie measure his words around you now, though it did not stop him from occasionally pushing boundaries. Still, you knew he had nothing bad to say about Lando. Eddie, despite his many faults and flaws, respected wealth, and Lando’s background made him untouchable in Eddie’s eyes.

He shifted his attention back to Rachel, his smile tightening into something that looked more like calculation. “So, Rachel, from which Chu family are you from?” Eddie asked, the question clearly designed to assess her pedigree. “Chu Investments? Chu Shipping? Chu Constructions? Or maybe Chu Real Estate?” he rattled off with confidence, pausing after each one as if expecting immediate recognition.

Rachel, to her credit, handled it with grace. She shook her head gently at each suggestion, her polite smile never faltering. “No, I’m not from any of those families,” she replied, voice calm and pleasant.

Eddie didn’t seem deterred by her response. In fact, it only seemed to fuel his determination. “Really? Huh. Well, you must be from somewhere,” he said, leaning slightly as he named another family one after another, tone growing more insistent with each guess.

You watched the exchange with thinly veiled annoyance, your patience wearing thinner with every word out of Eddie’s mouth. You glanced at Rachel, who remained composed but was clearly growing weary of the interrogation. Nick, standing protectively beside her, shot you a look that said he was just as over Eddie’s antics as you are.

Eddie, oblivious to the awkwardness he was creating, pressed on. “Come on, you can tell us,” he said, as if her lineage were some kind of secret puzzle only he could solve. “Surely you’re related to one of the prominent families. There aren’t that many Chus of significance, you know.”

The annoyance just flickered greatly in your chest, not just for Rachel’s sake but for Fiona’s as well. Fionna, who stood a short distance away, casting occasional glance at her husband with that familiar expression of quiet resignation. You had seen that look too many times, the silent endurance of someone used to being overshadowed by Eddie’s insufferable personality. Events like this were her only reprieve, and whenever you were around, you made it a point to keep Eddie in check, and tonight would be no different.

“Eddie,” you said, voice calm but firm, cutting through his monologue like a knife. “I think Rachel’s already answered your question.”

Eddie faltered for a moment, mouth half-open as he turned to look at you. There was a flicker of something, annoyance perhaps, but it quickly disappeared and was replaced by his usual smug expression.

“Oh, of course,” he said smoothly, though his tone was anything but apologetic. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Anyway,” you said brightly, offering her a reassuring smile, and steered the conversation away from Eddie entirely, “I’m so glad you both could make it. Ah Ma will be thrilled to see you.”

Rachel returned your smile, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Thank you.”

Eddie clearly sensed that his moment in the spotlight was over, he gave a small, self-important sniff and stepped back. You did not miss the way his gaze lingered on Rachel for a second longer than necessary before he excused himself, most likely off to find another conversation where he could insert himself.

“Thank you for that,” Nick muttered as soon as Eddie was out of earshot, voice quiet but sincere.

You waved it off with a small laugh. “It’s literally nothing,” you said lightly, though the underlying frustration lingered. “Eddie just can’t help himself sometimes.”

Lando turned to you, brows raised in curiosity. “So, has anyone ever knocked some sense into him? Or is he still walking around thinking he’s God’s gift to everyone?”

Nick, unable to contain himself, let out a laugh. “Oh, there’s definitely someone who knocked him out. Literally,” he said, motioning towards you with a tilt of his head.

“You?!” Lando exclaimed, laughing.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “In my defense,” you said evenly, “Eddie was much worse when we were kids. He’s always been a menace, constantly looking down on people, and giving all of his nanny a hard time. Someone had to do something.”

“And you did, all right.” Nick snorted. “He cried like a baby. I still remember his face, all red and snotty. It was priceless.”

Lando laughed, eyes gleaming with both amusement and pride. “I can’t believe I’m only hearing this story now. You never told me you could throw a punch.”

“I only did it because he deserved it,” you replied, crossing your arms lightly. “And don’t ever get any ideas. I’m not planning to make a habit out of it.”

Nick shook his head, still grinning. “Trust me, he’s toned it down around her ever since. Eddie might be insufferable, but even he’s smart enough to know not to push his luck twice.”

The conversation then shifted, with Nick and Rachel both congratulating Lando on his win in Dubai. “By the way, congrats again,” Nick said, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “That was one hell of a race.”

“Thank you,” Lando replied, tone modest but appreciative.

“We watched the whole race,” Rachel added, smiling warmly. “It was really incredible. You really deserved that win.”

“Speaking of race,” Nick grinned mischievously and turned to you. “The camera caught a great moment during the podium ceremony.”

You immediately knew where this was going and groaned. “Oh no. Don’t.”

Nick ignored you. “You should’ve seen her, Lando. The camera panned to her during the ceremony, and there she was, ugly crying like a soap opera actress.”

“It was actually really sweet. You could tell how proud she was.” Rachel giggled, covering her mouth.

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I was emotional, okay? It was a big moment.”

Lando glanced at you, his expression softening. “I thought it was cute,” he said simply, earning a playful scoff from you.

After a few more minutes of lighthearted conversation, Nick checked his watch. “We should probably go find Mom, I still need to introduce Rachel to her.”

You winced slightly but kept your tone encouraging. “Good luck,” you said sincerely. “I hope it goes well.”

Rachel gave you a grateful smile. “Thank you. Fingers crossed.”

Nick, ever the joker, winked at you. “Don’t worry. If it doesn’t, I’ll call you to change her mind.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as they walked away. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

When Nick and Rachel left, you and Lando wandered into one of the quieter corners of the house, a haven away from the bustling party. The dim lighting and the soft hum of conversation filtering through the walls made the space feel intimate and the warm aroma of desserts and dumplings filled the air, a bubble of calm amidst the grandeur of your Ah Ma’s estate. Lando sat close to you on the plush couch, dessert plates balanced on the small glass coffee table in front.

Lando picked up a delicate slice of kueh lapis with his fork and took a bite, humming appreciatively at the sweetness. “This is dangerous,” he said, leaning back comfortably. “Jon’s definitely going to say something when I step on the scales.”

You chuckled, leaning into his shoulders. “Oh, just wait until Ah Ma sees you. She’ll tell you to eat more and probably have the kitchen make an entire feast just for you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah ma’s great, but I don’t think I can keep up. You saw how much food was at dinner alone.”

“Ah Ma loves feeding people,” you replied with a small smile, reaching for one of the dumplings.

Lando grinned, his aquamarine eyes sparkling with humor. He broke a piece of ondeh-ondeh in half, letting the green glutinous skin stretch slightly before offering you a bite. “Here, try this.”

You took the offered piece and bit into it, the burst of sweet palm sugar making you hum in delight. “I missed this,” you said, savoring the flavor.

He took the other half for himself, nodding as he chewed. “Not bad,” he said, swallowing. “Though I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the texture.”

“You're surviving,” you teased, reaching for a slice of steamed yam cake.

As the conversation flowed, the topic shifted naturally to your plans for 2025. “I’ll come to more races next year,” you promised, setting the plate down. “I want to be there for as many as I can, and we should also travel more too—there are so many places we need to see together.”

Lando smiled, expression softening. “I love the sound of that, and you moving to Monaco, finally. I’ve been waiting for ages.”

“Well, my apartment’s already sorted,” you reminded him with a small shrug. “But I’ll come over to yours everyday. You won’t even notice the difference.”

“Or,” he suggested, leaning in closer, “you could just move in with me.”

You laughed, lightly nudging him. “Nice try, Romeo. My parents bought the apartment already, remember? I can’t just ditch it.”

“Fine,” he said dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “But I’m holding you to that promise. I expect to you at mine every single day.”

“I promise,” you replied as you gave him a soft peck on the lips.

Then, a resonant sound of a cambodian gong echoed through the house, immediately catching your attention. Moments later, your mother’s voice, calm yet commanding, carried through the room. She stood with your Auntie Alix by her side, gracefully addressing the guests, tone filled with warmth and gratitude.

“Thank you all so much for joining us this wonderful evening,” your mother began, pausing to let her words settle. “It’s such a joy to have everyone here, especially on this special evening.”

Auntie Alix smiled, chiming in, “we’d like to invite everyone to the courtyard now, to witness the blooming of the Tan Hua. It’s a rare and special occasion, and it feels even more meaningful to share it with all of you tonight.”

There was a soft murmur of excitement as the guests began to make their way toward the courtyard. You turned to Lando, who was already grabbing your plates from the table. Wordlessly, you followed suit, stacking the dishes carefully and walking together toward the area designated for the dirty dishes. You discarded them neatly, brushing your hands off before turning back to him.

Lando reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he often did, a reassuring gesture that made your heart settle. Together, you walked through the wide open doors that led to the courtyard. The cool evening air greeted you, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.

Ahead, the garden had transformed into an enchanting space, bathed in moonlight. The Tan Hua plant, placed on a pedestal under a canopy of soft lights, stood as the centerpiece. Its elegant, slender buds were illuminated in the gentle glow, and the pale moonlight seemed to highlight every delicate curve of the plant.

You noticed your Ah Ma nearby, two of her ladies-in-waiting carefully helped her into a chair that had been placed by the Tan Hua, with your Auntie Alix, your mother, and your Auntie Eleanor joining beside her. She moved slowly but with the dignity and grace that defined her. Faint murmurs of admiration around you quieted as everyone gathered closer.

The moment the first bloom began to open, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. The petals unfurled slowly, revealing a pristine white flower that seemed to glow against the dark backdrop of the night. One by one, the other buds followed suit, their blossoms opening in a synchronized rhythm as though they were performing just for this audience.

You glanced at Lando, who was watching with quiet amazement, his eyes reflecting the glow of the flowers. You couldn’t help but smile softly at his expression, the wonder evident on his face. Around you, people whispered in awe, voiced hushed as though afraid to disturb the magic of the moment.

“It’s beautiful,” Lando said quietly, voice barely above whisper.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently as your eyes returned to the blooming Tan Hua. Your Ah Ma, seated serenely in her chair, looked on with a contented smile, her presence leading an even greater sense of significance to the moment. The flowers seemed almost otherworldly as they completed their bloom, each one perfect and untouched, the rarity of the event settling in for everyone present.

The party had now shifted to the expansive courtyard, with the guests scattered around tables adorned with crisp white linens and glowing centerpieces. The soft melodies of the live jazz band, now situated under a canopy of string lights that filled the evening air, lending an elegant yet relaxed atmosphere.

You and Lando made your way through the crowd, hand in hand, weaving between clusters of chatting relatives and friends, until you reached the section where your family was gathered. Your Auntie Alix was the first to notice you. Her warm smile lit up her face as she pulled you into a gentle hug.

“Dear, it’s so good to see you,” she said softly. “You look so lovely tonight, and Lando, as dashing as ever!” you thanked her with a laugh, glancing at Lando, who nodded politely in return.

Your Auntie Alix always had a way of making you feel at ease, she’s kind and a very down-to-earth woman. It always puzzled you how Eddie could have turned out so…different, given how wonderful both his parents are. You turned to your mother and gave her another hug, then lastly, your Auntie Eleanor, who stood with a poised air, gaze sharp yet affectionate. She acknowledged you and Lando with a nod.

“Good to see you,” she said briskly before allowing a small smile to break through. “Lando, congratulations on a successful season. You’ve done very well.” Lando thanked her sincerely, and you exchanged a few pleasantries before excusing yourselves to greet the woman you had been searching for all night—your Ah Ma.

She was seated regally in an ornate chair that is adorned with soft cushions, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting and closest confidantes. As you approached, you greeted her in Mandarin, your tone very respectful and warm.

“阿媽，很高興見到你,” (ah ma, it’s so good to see you) you said, dipping slightly in a gesture of reverence. Her face lit up instantly, her wrinkled hands reaching out to clasp yours.

“啊，我珍貴的孫女,” (ah, my precious granddaughter) she said, voice steady but laced with emotion. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, and she smiled approvingly. “今晚你是如此美麗。 這件衣服，很適合你。 像蓮花一樣.” (you are so beautiful tonight. This dress suits you perfectly. Like a lotus flower)

You thanked her shyly, and her attention quickly shifted to Lando, her smile widening even more. She extended her arms toward him, and Lando, ever the gentleman, leaned down to embrace your Ah Ma warmly.

“Ah Ma, it’s so nice to see you again,” he said gently.

She chuckled, patting his arm as if Lando were a favored grandchild. “Lan Lan. You look very handsome,” she said in her Mandarin-laced English voice. “Why are you so skinny? Do you not eat? Have you eaten tonight?” her sharp eyes scanned him critically, tone carrying both affection and worry.

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, recalling your earlier conversation with Lando. He glanced at you, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile before responding, “Ah Ma, I ate earlier, and I’ve been eating tonight too. Don’t worry.”

She shook her head lightly, still unconvinced. “You need to eat more. Racing may be important, but health is more important.” her gaze softened further as she turned back to you both. “You must take care of each other,” she added firmly.

“Especially you,” she looked directly at you, her hand resting on yours, voice lowering in emphasis. “Take care of him, but also make sure you take care of yourself. Lando, make sure you also take care of her too. Always.”

Lando nodded earnestly, his voice steady. “I promise, Ah Ma. I’ll always take care of her.”

“Good,” she said simply, giving your hand one last squeeze before settling back into her chair.

Not long after, Nick and Rachel appeared, weaving their way through the guests until they reached your group. Your Ah Ma’s face lit up the moment she spotted Nick, her expression softening with a mix of happiness. She straightened in her chair, reaching out toward him as he approached.

“Nicky,” she said warmly, her voice carrying a slight tremble. “時間太長了。 太長了 你很幸運我還活着見到你,” (it has been too long. too long. you’re lucky I am still alive to see you) she added with a teasing yet heartfelt tone, eyes glistening faintly.

Nick crouches slightly to be at her eye level, taking her hands in his. “阿媽，我好想你,” (ah ma, I missed you so much) he said sincerely, his tone apologetic yet filled with affection. “對不起，我花了這麼長時間纔回來,” (i’m sorry it’s taken me this long to come back)

Your Ah Ma clicked her tongue softly, her grip firm. “重要的是你現在在這裏,” (what matters is that you are here now) she said, voice soft. “但不要讓我再等這麼久，明白嗎?” (but don’t make me wait this long again, understand?)

Nick nodded with a smile. “我不會的，阿媽，我保證.” (I won’t, Ah Ma. I promise)

Then, with a small glance over his shoulder, he gestured toward Rachel, who stood quietly beside him. “Ah Ma, I want you to meet someone very special to me.” he turned to Rachel, who stepped forward, expression poised but warm.

Rachel greeted your Ah Ma in Mandarin, her tone respectful and her words careful yet fluent. “阿媽，謝謝你邀請我去你美麗的家,” (ah ma, thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home) she said, dipping her head slightly. “尼克告訴我很多關於你的事，尤其是你的餃子。 他說你做得最好.” (nick has told me so much about you, especially about your dumplings. he says you make the best in the world)

Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes softened at Rachel’s words, a small smile tugging at her lip. “啊，沒什麼,” (ah, it’s nothing) she replied modestly. “如果你喜歡，我可以教你如何製作它們.” (if you like, I can show you how to make them)

Rachel’s face lit up, and she responded earnestly, “我會很榮幸的。 尼克高度評價他們，還有你.” (i would be honored. nick speaks so highly of them, and of you)

“很好,” (good) she said simply. “但是你必須很快來。 不是今晚，有太多的伸長脖子，流言蜚語。 下次，當它更安靜的時候.” (but you must come back soon. not tonight, there are too many craning necks and gossiping mouths. Next time, when it’s quieter)

You watched the exchange with a faint smile, pleased to see how your Ah Ma was beginning to warm up to Rachel—she might even end up really liking Rachel. It was clear that your Ah Ma appreciated Rachel’s efforts to respect tradition and connect with her.

As Nick and Rachel excused themselves right after the conversation they had with your Ah Ma, you discreetly turned your attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had remained silent during the interaction. She leaned towards your Auntie Jacqueline, who had joined the group just moments ago, she murmured in a low voice, her words clipped yet unmistakable.

“When children are away from home for too long, they forget who they are,” she said, gaze pointedly fixed on Nick and Rachel, who were now walking away, laughing softly and exchanging affectionate glances.

You caught the subtle disdain in her tone, her disapproving eyes lingering a second too long on the couple. They looked every but in love—completely engrossed in each other and blissfully unaware of the scrutiny that they were both under. Your Auntie Jacqueline hummed softly in response, neither agreeing or disagreeing, but her expression remained neutral as she sipped her champagne.

However, you on the other hand, felt a small flare of irritation at the remark, biting your tongue to keep from reacting, knowing it would only escalate matters. Instead, you turned your attention back to Lando, who gave your hand a gentle squeeze, as if silently reminding you to let it go.

The evening had stretched long, and though the party had been filled with laughter, music, and warmth of family, your energy was waning. As the guests began to filter out one by one, you and Lando moved through the courtyard, bidding polite goodbyes to your relative. Your Ah Ma gave you both a lingering hug, whispering for you to take care of yourself before letting you go, and by the time you reached your car, your social battery was completely drained.

The drive home was quiet, filled only with the hum of the engine and the occasional flicker of streetlights through the windows. Lando’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your dress, offering a wordless comfort.

When you finally arrived home, you sighed in relief, slipping off your heels the moment you crossed the threshold. The familiar sensation of the cool floor against your feet grounding you, and you wasted no time heading towards the bedroom, Lando trailing close behind.

As you entered the room, you turned to him and asked, “can you please unzip me?” your voice was soft, almost sleepy, gathering your hair and sweeping it to one side.

Lando stepped forward, his hands brushing lightly against your back as he found the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your neck. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a quiet giggle as it tickled you.

“Lan, baby, stop it,” your tone was playful, though you didn’t move away.

“Just one,” Lando murmured, grinning as he finally slid the zipper down.

You slipped out of the dress carefully, draping it over the back of a chair before turning to Lando. “The wedding festivities start tomorrow,” you reminded him as you grabbed one of Lando's oversized white shirts to pull over yourself. “Colin and Araminta’s bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

Lando flopped onto the bed, watching you as you moved around the room. “I told Nick earlier that I won’t be able to make it to Colin’s party,” he said, propping his head on his hand. “I’ve got a last minute important Quadrant zoom meeting with Max tomorrow. But honestly, I don’t think Colin will even notice I’m missing. That guy will be too busy enjoying himself.”

“Well, let’s just hope that Colin and Nicky will have fun with the party that Bernard Tai had organized,” you snorted, heading to your walk-in closet to grab one of your suitcases. “But anyways, Rachel was invited to Araminta’s bachelorette party. It’s three days at Samsara Island.” you added, opening the suitcase and began to fold clothes into it.

Lando raised a brow. “Samsara Island?”

“Yeah, it’s a private island that her family owns,” you explained. “Rachel’s going, and I’m going too. She’ll need someone to look out for her.”

Lando sat up a little straighter. “Why? What’s the issue?”

You sighed. “Some of the girls Araminta invited are…well, vicious. They have a way of making anyone they see as an outsider feel unwelcome. I’m not letting Rachel deal with that alone.”

He reached out, tugging you gently towards him so you were standing between his legs. “You’re a good friend,” Lando said, hands softly settling on your waist. “But don’t let them drag you into any unnecessary drama, alright? Just keep an eye on Rachel and have some fun too.”

You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ll try,” you said. “But someone has to make sure Rachel’s okay.”

“I know,” Lando said, voice light but sincere. “That’s why I’m glad she has you.”

You then continued to pack, and as you folded the last set of your clothes and placed them neatly into your suitcase, the room was filled with the quiet rustle of fabric and the occasional click of your luggage zippers. Lando was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, watching you thoughtfully.

”you know,” you began, glancing at him as you folded a light blouse, “I don’t think it went well when Nicky introduced Rachel to Auntie Eleanor tonight.”

Lando’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why do you think that?” he asked, tone curious but concerned.

You sighed softly, pausing to place the blouse carefully into the suitcase. “It was shown all over his face,” you explained. “Then when Nick and Rachel left after introducing Rachel to Ah Ma, I overheard her. She made a comment to Auntie Jacqueline about how children who are away from home for too long forget who they are.”

He shook his head, confusion evident. “But why?” he asked. “Rachel’s amazing. She’s kind, sweet, and educated, I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t your Auntie Eleanor like her?”

Straightening, you turned to him, leaning against the dresser for a moment. “It’s kind of complicated,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “It’s not about Rachel as a person—yes, everyone can see how nice, educated, and well mannered she is. But it’s more of where she comes from.”

Lando frowned, still not understanding. “What do you mean? She’s Chinese, right? I mean, that’s what matters to your family, isn’t it? That she shares the same culture?”

“Yes, she’s Chinese, sure. But she’s what some people here would call ABC—American Born Chinese.” you said. “She grew up in the states, and culturally, Rachel’s not the same as us. To someone like Auntie Eleanor, that’s a big deal. She sees Rachel as…not on the same level as our family.”

His confusion shifted to disbelief. “Not on the same level?” Lando repeated. “Why? Because she wasn’t born in Singapore?”

“It’s more than that. Auntie Eleanor is a very traditional woman, just like every woman in our family. To her, someone like Rachel doesn’t understand or respect our family’s values and traditions. And,” you hesitated for a moment, “she probably thinks Rachel is only with Nick because of our family’s money.”

Lando’s jaw tightened slightly. “That’s really ridiculous,” he said firmly. “Nick and Rachel clearly love each other. Even a blind person can see that.”

“I know, I know,” you agreed, letting out a sigh. “But Nick is the only child and son, and just like Uncle Philip, his father and Ah Ma’s only son—he's the presumptive heir to the family fortune. Auntie Eleanor wants someone for Nick who comes from the same kind of background, someone who’s good enough based on her standards. Kaki lang.”

“Kaki lang?” Lando repeated, head tilting at the unfamiliar phrase that caught his attention.

“It’s a Hokkien phrase,” you said with a small smile. “It means our kind of people. Someone who’s from the same world. In this case, someone from an old money family like ours.”

“So…is that what your family thinks about us?” Lando leaned back slightly, processing everything. “Do they think I’m not kaki lang?”

You closed your suitcase with a final zip and turned to him, moving to sit beside him on the bed. “Lan, baby,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “Definitely not. No. My family loves you. Ah Ma adores you. You saw how happy she was tonight when she saw you. My parents think you’re wonderful, they’ve never said a single bad thing about you.”

Lando looked at you, his expression still a little uncertain. “But…with all these expectations about family and background, I can’t help but wonder what they really think. I mean, you come from an environment where family and tradition are everything.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you. “Listen to me, Lando Norris,” you said firmly. “You’re part of my life, and my family has welcomed you with open arms. You saw it tonight—the way my Dad was so happy for you after your win, the way Ah Ma hugged you and told you to eat more. If they didn’t approve of you, they wouldn’t treat you that way at all.”

“You’re sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze softened as he searched your eyes.

You nodded. “A hundred percent. You don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks. You’re with me, and that’s all that matters.”

“Alright,” he murmured. “I trust you.”

You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “Good. Now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Lando chuckled softly. “Yeah, especially for you. I’ll miss you while you’re off playing bodyguard for Rachel.”

You laughed, the sound light and warm. “I’ll miss you too.”

[ifwdominicfike]

giving virgin sub!chris his first blowjob

this is inspired by @mattybsgroupie virgin!chris with milf!reader, so go check her out i lovelovelove her fics!!!

── .✦. ──

“p- please mama..” you hear the boy whine while clenching his fists, not knowing where to put his hands. “please what sweet boy? m’gonna need a little more than that” you grin, your eyes low as you continue to rub over the forming bulge through his jeans. “need- need your m-mouth” he murmurs, clearly embarrassed. “need my what? c’mon honey.. one more time”

he can’t help but grind his hips up into nothing at your teasing words, he knew what you were doing and he was willing to do anything to have your pretty mouth around him. “you’re that desperate? fuck baby.. just say it one more time and i’ll give you whatever y’want” he shudders when he feels you apply more pressure to his hard dick, begging to be freed from the uncomfortable layers.

“please mama! n- ngh- need your mouth” his voice now a little louder than before, you smile and begin to unbutton his jeans pulling them down to reveal him. “such a good, perfect boy, yeah? look at you, s’all for me” you wrap your hand around him and begin to slowly stroke him.

“m-mama.. mm” all that is heard from him is mumbles and incoherent nonsense, “yeah baby?” he can hear the smirk in your tone, his hips buck again as if trying to silently say that he wants needs more.

you finally take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him. “o-ohh mam- fuck! r-right th-there” his hands start to scatter not knowing where to put them, you rest both of them in your hair. your continuous humming and moaning around him pushes him closer and closer to the edge and his hands steadily grip onto your now messy hair.

it doesn’t take him long to feel that pit in his stomach become stronger “m- m’gonna cum c-can i cum mama please!” his soft whimpers and whines signal that he’s close, you pull off for a split second. “go ahead baby, cum for me” you focus your attention on his sensitive tip and stroke the rest of him. “please please please-“ he doesn’t even know what he was begging for, just babbling off nonsense as he reaches his high.

“good boy you did s’good for me, my sweet boy” you let off of him and swipe over his tip with your thumb, teasing him. “n-no more please.. m’tired” he whines while trying to swat your hands away. “okay baby, no more. m’so proud of you” you climb up onto the bed and he rests his head on you, letting his tired figure settle onto your chest before curling up and dozing off into a peaceful sleep.

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

ok so im SOAKED thinking about virgin!chris SIGHHHH ugh anyways i feel like its so awkward towards the end when ending smut IDK but i hope you enjoy!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem @strnilolover @cayleeuhithinknott @cherrynflowergarden @sturnsmia @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled

[earlysunshines]

sparks on ice

hanni pham x reader ; fluff

synopsis: hanni’s friends force her out the house to ice skate knowing she is completely incapable of doing so and that fact is proven when she falls onto some random stranger—you.

warnings: NONE! pure fluff… ; okay well the usual… they’re GAY. ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: i went ice skating w some friends and our whole friend group of eight, including me, has six gay ppl and one of two straight ppl… the MAN, falls onto the MALE worker and it looked really really fruiticous and i can’t stop giggling thinking ab it and its sooo hanni core so i HAD to write it

hanni has no clue why she’s letting her friends drag her out to go ice skating.

not only hanni is aussie—and that doesn’t mean ice skating doesn’t exist in melbourne—it’s the fact that she hasn’t ice skated since primary school. the memory of slipping more times than she can count on one hand doesn’t make her the most confident in the room.

she’s squeezing into skates a size down from her usual size, feeling the pressure against her feet and letting danielle helping her lace her shoes like a mother.

“you’re not nervous?” hanni asks.

“no! i mean, i’ve skated a few times back home. shouldn’t be too bad,” danielle simply shrugs as she double knots the last laces. “i might be rusty though.” 

knowing danielle, she’ll probably be gliding across the ice like a professional within half an hour, spinning and skating backward by the end of their session. 

minji snickers, looking over at hanni and grinning. “i can’t wait to see you fall on your ass.”

“you’re a terrible person.” hanni nudges minji over with her shoulder. “you did this on purpose.”

“yes,” minji says before nudging hanni back, earning a giggle from danielle and hyein, “but ice skating is just as fun as it is humiliating. more fun than humiliating, maybe.”

hanni rolls her eyes, getting up and nearly losing her balance from the feeling of mere blades holding her weight. she purses her lips, sighing as she clings onto danielle’s arm while they walk over and out to the rink.

there’s a variety of others skating—families, couples, friends—it makes hanni a little nervous. minji looks over and chuckles, tilting her head over to motion the rest over. “c’mon! we have less than ninety minutes now.” she says, stepping into the rink like it’s second nature. 

danielle steps in first, gliding forward with a slight wobble but quickly finding her rhythm. hanni follows instantly, clinging to the edge of the rink with one hand and danielle’s pinky with her other. she feels like a baby deer.

“you alright there?” danielle asks, a hint of worry and amusement in her tone.

“define ‘okay,’” hanni says with a wary expression as she inches forward. 

minji glides past them effortlessly, smirking as she spins around to face them while skating backward. “not bad han, you look like a pro~”

“you’re being sarcastic,” hanni snaps, glaring as she clutches onto both danielle and the railing for dear life. “i hope you slip and fall on your ass.”

hyein skates up beside them, laughing. “don’t worry hanni, i bet you’ll do great. just keep clinging onto dani and maybe… you’ll learn?”

“shut up, i hate you.” hanni groans.

danielle laughs, letting go of hanni for a bit. “you should learn on your own, i can teach you a bit!”

“dani! noooo,” hanni whines, “please, i’m actually going to slip on my ass. please dani… please…”

“hanni,” danielle shakes her head as she giggles, skating a little further and closer to hyein as she watches hanni cling for her life. “just take two steps and glide, it’s a rhythm that you have to get into.”

“okay well i’m completely out of rhythm then.” hanni sighs, staring down at her feet. 

she loses balance for a bit, nearly falling before she clings to the railing again. minji laughs—her signature cackle—as she captures it on her phone. 

the group lingers by for a bit, watching hanni as she struggles to stay a foot away from the railing, nearing closer to a fall with each step. hanni doesn’t give up though, trailing behind danielle and hyein as fast as she can while they watch over her.

hanni improves around thirty minutes in, being able to stay a few feet away from the railing now as she develops a faster pace. she’s nearing danielle’s tempo, but her arms are still out as she tries to keep her balance. they swing around her with each step and glide, but what matters is that hanni has some grasp of the technique.

that’s what she thinks, at least.

as if on cue, contradicting what she had believed prior, her skate catches and she loses her balance. her arms flail, a small squeak slips from her lips, and for a horrifying second she’s sure she’s about to crash onto the ice.

much to her surprise, she falls into someone’s arms instead—a firm, warm hold that keeps her from hitting the ground. 

“whoa, you alright?” the voice is calm but slightly startled. you steady her slowly. “i gotcha.”

hanni looks up and realizes she’s in the arms of one of the rink workers. the worker, a girl who looks around her age wears a staff jacket and a concerned expression. 

the worker, you, also have a pretty face. your faces are a breath apart, and the lights surrounding the rink bring a little glint to your eyes—they also highlight your unique features that she’s glancing at in the heat of the moment.

hanni feels her cheeks burn as she scrambles to stand on her own, muttering, “i’m fine! i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” you say sweetly, smiling at her as you brush it off. hanni’s heart is racing, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the way you look at her or the fall. “don’t worry about it. just take it slow, yeah?”

hanni nods.

“try to keep your knees a little more bent.” you giggle, smiling bigger now. “and your posture doesn’t have to be perfect, if it helps you can bend forward just slightly. relax.” 

hanni nods again, like a stupid idot. her cheeks burn as she tries to compose herself. “right. knees bent. thanks, um, yeah. great.”

your hands linger for a moment longer than they should, but maybe hanni’s overthinking it—she doesn’t mind, though.

“and maybe don’t stray off too far into the rink. wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” you add, a teasing lilt in your voice.

hanni can’t help but laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “got it.”

your smile widens slightly, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the rink faded in the background.

“you’re sure you’re okay?” you ask once more, gaze flickering over to hanni’s face, as if checking fro any signs of lingering distress. and maybe you’re appreciating her soft features too. 

“yeah, i’m good. really—now that you’re here,” hanni breathes out before her eyes widen, “i mean! not in a weird way. sorry, that was so… intimate. oh my god. i just mean, um, thanks for catching me.”

you give her a soft laugh. “anytime.” you reply, tone warm but light. 

hanni wanted to keep the conversation going, to steal you away from your job for no apparent reason. but before she could do so, you give her a quick nod and skate off, moving with an effortless grace that left hanni feeling even more off balance.

“so,” minji says, skating up beside her with a grin that spreads from ear to ear, “what happened there?”

hanni jumps a bit from the sudden awareness of minji’s presence, desperately reaching out for minji’s shoulders to stop herself from falling. “shut up!” hanni grains, her face heating up as she tightens her grip on minji’s shoulder.

“that was something out of a romance movie. you should fall into her again—for science. she’s so your type. taller, nice face, oh! and—”

“i’ll kill you.” hanni shoves minji a bit, disturbing their balance simultaneously before hanni searches for minji’s shoulder again to keep herself from falling.

danielle and hyein skate up to the two a few seconds later, giggling and furthering the teasing that minji started. hanni rolls her eyes as she skates with them, still distracted from the encounter.

the rest of the session is a mix of wobbly attempts and minor victories, but hanni can’t stop thinking about how you caught her. she keeps glanicng over, watching you glide across the ice as if it were like walking while you monitor the rest of the people there. 

you glance at hanni a few times as well, accidentally making eye contact. your heart races all three times it happens.

—

if hanni had a coin for each time she had bumped into you that week, she’d have two, which isn’t a lot, but it’s mind-blowing how it’s happened more than once.

a few days later hanni is hurrying towards her bus while juggling her phone in one hand and a back of snacks in the other. she rounds the corner too fast and crashes into someone—not on ice this time, but the same person.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry—” she starts, only to look up and realize it’s you.

“it’s— oh, it’s you,” you seem as shocked as you do amused. your brows are raised and your lips twitch into a smile. “this is like deja vu, or something.” you tease, steadying her by the arm before she can drop the snacks she bought for her friends.

hanni feels her face heat up immediately. “y-you, hi. um… thanks for not letting me fall—again.”

“anytime,” you reassure, you said the same last time. hanni swallows shallowly. you have the same warm, steady presence she remembers as you look and speak to her. “are you headed towards the stop down the street too?”

“yeah,” hanni replies, falling into step beside you. “are you—? are you headed the same way.”

“yup.” you respond.

as you both walk, the conversation starts small and hanni is trying to do everything but look you in the eye. you've only given each other your names and still she’s nervous along with embarrassed from your first encounter, but also flustered from how you look even cuter outside of your work. you’re talking about the weather, complaining about the bus schedule, and when the topic shifts to ice skating—you glance at her. 

your smile turns a little softer as you admit, “you know, you kind of made my night during that shift.”

hanni blinks, caught off guard. “me? you’re joking, right?”

you shake your head. “i mean, most of the time it’s just kids screaming or people falling over and pushing me away when i try to help. embarrassment gets the best of us.” you say, grinning. “but you? you were… different. you were really sweet, and amusing to help. it was endearing.”

hanni snickers, “pftt, endearing? you’re teasing me.”

“nope.” you shrug, turning your head just a bit to make eye contact with her.

her heart stumbles over itself at your words, and she fiddles with the strap of her bag to keep her hands busy. “i’m glad i could, um, help.”

you both board the bus, sit next to each other, and the conversation flows more easily after that. you ask her what she does, and she tells you about her classes and how much teasing she has to endure from her friends. you share stories about odd encounters at the rink and how annoying your major can be. it’s natural, comfortable, but there’s something more that’s in the air.

as the bus pulls up to teh stop, you turn to her, your smile turning just a little more timid. “you know, i thought— well i still do. i think… i think you’re really cute, by the way. you’re gorgeous.”

hanni freezes for half a second, her cheeks flushing. “oh,” she says then laughs nervously. “thank you. i kind of thought the same about you. you’re cute.” her voice gets quieter as her sentence had ended.

your grin widens at that, and you take out your phone, holding it toward her. “well, if you’re not completely traumatized by ice skating—maybe you’d let me teach you one-on-one?”

she hesitates for only a moment before giving you her number, feeling a mix of far too much swirling in her chest. hanni is definitely red, she can feel it.

“i’m not against it.”

“it’s a date, then? or is that too forward.” you ask as the bus doors open, stepping up onto the platform.

“i think we’re past whatever ‘forward’ is, especially after our first meeting….” hanni jokes, raising her voice so you can hear. her heart races as she nods, not sparing a second to say, “it’s a date.” before the door closes.

she catches you smiling at her, teeth and all now, before the bus drives away. hanni giggles to herself, smiling out the window before she pulls out her phone,

hanni: guys guys i just guys i have a date with the cute ice skating worker the one i fell on

minji: you WHAT.

[esouliie]

COME FIND ME, MY LIGHT.

(natasha romanoff x reader)

summary | What began as an attempt to bring Christmas back to Natasha turned into something deeper as both of you realised that love is what truly warms the heart this season. By Christmas Eve, Natasha wasn’t just in love with the holiday again: she was in love with you, and maybe- just maybe- you had been in love with her all along too.

tags | christmas fic! hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, dead family trope, alternative universe so no avengers, you’re both a bit sad! :/

notes | i want a christmas love like this so what better way to manifest than by writing a fic abt it hehe. this was also inspired by my fav person’s return to tumblr and her love for the holiday - @please-destroy, thank you for inspiring this by just being you! this is also a part of your gift, surprise!! everybody, go read her stuff now. it’s truly amazing!

word count | 5K

Merry Christmas!! ⊹♡

Since the moment you met, you knew Natasha carried a storm inside her. It was always tamed, hiding just beneath the surface of her eyes. But, from a year of friendship, you’ve noticed that storm that seemed to erupt around this time of the year. Being your only friend, she was always the one to accompany you on your trips out around the city. It’s there where you noticed the way she flinched at carols and avoided the cheerful chaos of Christmas markets you brought her too, by moving through it as fast as she can. The world’s merriment seemed to mock her darker memories. She confessed one night, in a rare moment of vulnerability and a very expensive bottle of wine, that Christmas had always been a painful time for her. Her voice, usually steady and unwavering, softened as she looked at you across the table. She told you about her sister, Yelena—the only person in her family who had ever truly cared about Christmas. Yelena had been the kind of person who could find joy even in the bleakest of places, someone who refused to let the world’s coldness harden her heart.

“She loved it,” Natasha said, her lips curling into a wistful smile as if she could still see Yelena bustling around their childhood home. “The lights, the snow, the decorations. She’d drag me into whatever shop she could find, looking for things to make the house even more festive. Ornaments, candles, the cheesiest, most stupid Santa hats—whatever she could get her hands on.” She paused, her gaze unfocused as though she were looking back through the years.

Yelena had been the one to make Christmas feel like magic. She knew all of the Christmas carols, singing along even if the notes were slightly off-key. This joy followed her into her adulthood, and even when she became sick. Every year, she insisted on stringing up lights around their shared apartment —“even if we don’t have a tree, Natasha, we’ll have lights. You know it’s all about the glow.” She was fearless, mischievous, and relentlessly stubborn in her belief that joy was worth chasing, even if it didn’t come easy. “She’d bake,” Natasha continued, her voice thick with emotion. “Not well obviously— she couldn’t stand for long at the point. Plus, her cookies had always been terrible—but she didn’t care. She’d make a mess everywhere and laugh at herself, daring me to do better. I never tried, though. I always just watched her and took her to bed whenever she was done.” Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass, her knuckles whitening slightly. “She believed in traditions, even when there was no reason to. Especially when there was no reason to,” she added, “she said traditions gave people hope, something to hold on to in the dark. I didn’t get it then—I still don’t fully— but with time, I understood she was trying to help me be okay with the world when she was no longer around.”

Yelena had been more than just a younger sister to Natasha —she had been her tether, her mirror, her light. She was the last person left of her family, and the only one who ever made Natasha feel things she often tried to ignore: a steady warmth, a strong connection, the possibility of life being worth more. She was everything Natasha wish she could be.

And when Yelena died, Christmas died with her.

“There was no one to care about it anymore,” Natasha said, her voice breaking for the briefest of moments before she pushed the emotion back behind her walls, blinking her tears away. “No one to make it mean anything.” You reached across the table, placing your hand over hers. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t meet your eyes either. For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the air between you thick. “She would’ve liked you,” she murmured after a while, her voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it. “Yelena… she always liked people who made things feel… safe.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of her words settling deep in your heart. You realised, in that moment, just how much Natasha trusted you—how much she had given you by sharing this piece of herself. From that moment, you made a promise to yourself: a promise to return Yelena’s light back into her life.

⊹♡

One morning, you found yourself lost on a tree farm. Rows upon rows of evergreens stretched out like soldiers in formation, their frosted branches from the night before glistening in the morning sun. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound for a moment. Natasha walked beside you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat, her eyes on swivel but not necessarily looking at the trees. She hadn’t said much since you picked her up that morning, you weren’t entirely sure if it was the early start or the occasion that silenced her.

“This one’s nice.” You said, gesturing to a stately Fraser fir with almost symmetrical branches. She stopped, gave the tree a quick once-over, and shrugged. “It’s fine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, moving along until you could find the next one. You had planned on finding a tree that you both could put up at her place, but with each step, it seemed like this tree would be better suited living at yours. You tried again. “What about this one?” You pointed to a taller tree, its branches also slightly uneven but full of character. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I guess. If you like it.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t inviting either. You let out a small breath, watching it cloud in front of you before dissipating into the icy air.

“No, we can keep looking.”

Laughter and the occasional clatter of a fallen tree echoed through the air. You couldn’t see them mostly but could imagine families adorned in colourful hats and scarves scattered across the farm. Natasha, however, didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes back to skimming over the trees with a detached disinterest and her surroundings, her mouth set in a way that told you she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Do you want to go home? You asked gently.

She paused, her head tilting slightly as if weighing whether to respond. “You wanted a tree,” she said finally, her voice even. “So we’re getting a tree.”

“It’s not that important.” You said. “If you’re not into it, we can go.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m fine.” She said, her voice clipped. Then, softer: “Let’s just look over there.”

You didn’t press her further.

The two of you wandered deeper into the farm, the trees becoming denser, their branches heavy with snow. You found yourself wondering if Natasha even saw them, her eyes not even bothering with her environment anymore as she kept her head down towards the snow, her mind clearly somewhere far away. “How about this one?” You tried again, stopping in front of a modest blue spruce. Its branches were sturdy, the kind that could hold up heavy ornaments, and its shape was pleasingly perfect. She stopped beside you, her eyes lingering on the tree. She didn’t say anything right away, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss it like the others. But then she tilted her head, considering.

“It’s okay.” She said, and while it wasn’t glowing praise, it was a step up from fine.

“You sure?” You asked, not wanting to push.

She nodded, her gaze lingering on the tree a second longer. “Yeah. It’s fine.” She finished, before turning abruptly back in the other direction. Later, the workers secured the tree to the roof of your car, their cheerful banter filling the space as you and Natasha stood off to the side. She didn’t say much, but when you glanced over at her, you thought you saw her mouth twitch—just the faintest hint of a smile. “Thanks for letting me tag along.” She said quietly.

You offered her a small smile. “I’m glad you came.”

⊹♡

Snow finally began to settle permanently in the middle of December. It clung to the rooftops and frosted the tree branches outside your apartment. Winter had truly arrived. You hadn’t seen Natasha since that morning; her work had whisked her off to the West Coast for an urgent business trip, leaving you to decorate the tree in your tiny apartment alone. Your living room was silent except for the soft hum of a holiday playlist you’d set to shuffle, but you were used to the lingering echo since moving in.

You missed her terribly.

Without Natasha here, you were unable to focus on anything but yourself: your terrible breakup last Christmas that had you packing your bags and running away to a different state, your argument with your family that had been the last time you’d spoken to them and the reason why you weren’t invited home this year, your sadness that crept up whenever you were forced to sit in silence with yourself. Deep down, you know she could see through you, could see how you suffered much like she did. It’s why you both clicked together instantly. But the difference with Natasha is that she never pried, never pushed you to talk about what you weren’t ready to say. And it wasn’t like you wanted to dwell on these things, but they lived inside you now, demanding attention in the silence.

Your ignorance was bliss, until it wasn’t.

And days when Natasha went away were the worst.

The doorbell rang at a late hour. Behind it stood Natasha, her coat dusted with fresh snow, her cheeks flushed pink from the nipping cold. She looked exhausted, her carry-on slung over one shoulder and her laptop bag in the other.

“You’re back?” You blurted out, wondering why she was here and not at her own place. It was Wednesday after all.

“I wanted to see you.” She admitted, shuffling awkwardly at her confession.

You pulled her through the door, allowing her a second to set her bags down with a tired sigh, her shoulders finally dropping as the door clicked shut behind her. “How was the trip?” You asked as you moved toward the kitchen, already reaching for the kettle and her mug.

“Exhausting.” She replied, shedding her snow-damp coat and draping it over the back of the chair. “And frustrating. Clients were indecisive, as usual, and the meetings went in circles half the time.”

You gave her a sympathetic look as you handed her a steaming mug of tea. “At least now you’re done for the holidays, right?”

She hummed in agreement, her fingers wrapping gratefully around the warmth of the cup. Despite the drink, you noticed her shiver and disappeared into your bedroom. You rummaged through your drawers, pulling out an oversized purple sweatshirt and some grey sweatpants.

When you handed them to her, she raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to—”

“You’re not sitting around in wet clothes, Natasha.” You cut her off, gesturing toward the bathroom. “Go change.”

By the time she emerged, looking infinitely more comfortable in your clothes, you had noticed the snow starting to pick up outside. Large flakes swirled under the glow of the streetlamps, a storm intensifying.

Perfect weather for what you had planned.

You grabbed a spare hat and scarf from the coat rack, along with a pair of gloves, and tossed them at her.

“What’s this?” Natasha asked, catching the items with a puzzled expression.

“We’re going out.”

“Out? In this weather?”

You were already pulling on your own coat and boots, ignoring her protests. “Yes, out. You’ve been cooped up in airports and meeting rooms for weeks. You need this.”

“I need sleep.” She muttered, but she already had her coat, reaching for the hat, her lips twitching as if she was trying not to smile.

“Come on. You urged, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door.

The streetlights cast a warm golden glow on the fresh blanket of snow, and for a moment, she hesitated. Her reluctant smile cracked through the guarded exterior she so often wore when you were outside. It was like sunlight breaking through clouds. Looking down at her watch, she noticed the time read 1am. “Oh my God, it’s the middle of the night,” she moaned, shaking her head, “and it’s freezing!”

“You’re Russian.” You deadpanned. “Aren’t you genetically programmed to thrive in this?”

She shot you a withering look, but the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her. “That’s not how it works and you know it.”

She turned back around towards your building but before she could move any further, the first snowball struck her shoulder with a soft thwump. She froze, blinking in disbelief. You stood a few feet away, grinning triumphantly, the remnants of the snowball crumbling in your hand. She swung back around, her eyes narrowed, lips parted in exaggerated shock. “Oh, so that’s how it is? These are your clothes you know!” Before you could reply, she bent down, scooped up snow, and hurled it at you. It hit squarely on your chest, the icy cold seeping through your coat.

“Hey!” You yelped, laughing.

“You started this!” She shot back, her voice light—playful in a way you rarely heard.

And then it was war. Snowballs flew in all directions, and the street filled with your laughter, echoing off the quiet houses. Natasha’s aim was deadly accurate, and you were sure she was holding back for your sake. It was quite pathetic. At one point, she feigned defeat only to pounce on you with a pile of snow that left you sputtering.

“You’re a cheat!” You gasped, brushing snow off your face.

“And you’re slow!” She quipped, already forming another snowball to smush in your face.

The cold stung your nose and turned your cheeks raw, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the way Natasha laughed—real and unrestrained, her head thrown back, the sound almost musical in the still night. It was the kind of laugh that felt like a gift, something rare and precious, and you never wanted it to end. Finally, both of you collapsed onto the snow, breathless and flushed. The stars peeked through the gaps in the clouds, and the world seemed impossibly quiet, save for the sound of your labored breathing. Natasha’s head rested on your shoulder, her knitted beanie (that actually belonged to you) slightly askew. “Okay,” she said between gasps, “I admit—that was fun.”

“You’re so welcome.” You teased, shifting to look at her.

“But that’s only because I beat your ass.”

She looked so beautiful in this moment. Her cheeks were rosy, the same shade as her damp hair where stray snowflakes had melted. She was at peace—something you wish you saw more of. You brushed a gloved hand against her cheek, then leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her icy forehead, unable to stop yourself.

“You were right. You’re freezing.” You murmured.

“Maybe.” She replied, her smile small. She shifted closer, laying her head on top of yours. “But I don’t mind.”

⊹♡

With both you and Natasha no longer at work, meant she could hang out with you more often. It was late one evening —you both had spent the day inside your apartment doing absolutely —when she insisted on a walk, claiming the air was getting "stuffy," though you suspected she just needed an excuse to stretch her legs.

Somehow, you had ended up in the suburbs in New Jersey.

“You know, this is kind of perfect.” She said, glancing over at you with a small smile. “No one’s out right now.” You laughed softly, the warmth of her gaze doing more to fight the chill than the layers you’d bundled yourself into. “Yes, well, the suburbs In Jersey are surprisingly magical when nobody’s around.” You joked, sarcasm evident, as you nodded toward the rows of houses strung with twinkling lights. It felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of scene you’d only read about.

The two of you turned a corner and were met with the soft harmony of voices carried on the wind. A group of carolers stood in front of a house, lanterns glowing in their hands as they sang “Silent Night.” Natasha paused, her steps slowing as she tilted her head to listen. Her expression softened, a rare kind of calm washing over her features.

“You don’t strike me as the caroling type.” You teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

“I’m not.” She admitted, though her lips curved into a grin. “But... it’s nice, isn’t it? Peaceful.”

It was odd. This was the first time you’d seen Natasha act normal with the idea of Christmas.

“They make it look so easy.” She said after a while, her voice quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“They make it look easy believing in... I don’t know. The magic of it all.” She added, as her brow furrowed.

You turned to look at her, the soft glow of the carolers’ lanterns catching in her green eyes. “Maybe it’s not about believing.” You said after a moment. “Maybe it’s just about... letting yourself feel it. Even if it hurts, let yourself feel all of it.”

She stood quietly for a beat before adding, “Yelena loved this song.”

You stayed silent, letting the moment slip away as she became lost in the tune. Natasha's expression contorted with pain as the song finished and the group moved on, but made no move to leave. Without hesitation, you clasped her hand tightly, guiding her away and back in the direction of the city.

You both walked in silence the entire way home.

⊹♡

The next time you saw Natasha was the following weekend when she came over for a sleepover. You could tell the temperature had dropped even more just by the state you found her in at your door. You could only see her eyes. She was wearing your beanie again, with a scarf wound tightly around her neck and the exposed parts of her face. She carried a mismatched tote bag that practically bursted at the seams, the telltale sign of someone who couldn’t quite decide what to pack.

She’d never slept over before.

Well, purposely.

Later that night, in the cozy warmth of your kitchen, you began pulling out ingredients for gingerbread cookies, demanding the taller woman come stand beside you once her ‘bones were warm enough.’ Natasha remained perched on a stool, her favourite mug clasped in her hands, watching you with a raised eyebrow and a half-smirk.

"Our first sleepover. And you’re putting me to work? At this hour? I almost died coming over to see you.” She teased, glancing at the clock.

It’s nearly midnight.

"It’s time for midnight gingerbread.” You replied, beaming as you tied an apron around your waist. "It’s a tradition now."

Now?" She echoed, laughing. "This is literally the first time we’re doing this."

"Exactly, that’s how traditions start."

Natasha rolled her eyes but hopped off the stool to join you, muttering under her breath about wishing she had froze to death on the way over before tugging at your apron strings like a mischievous child, pushing you slightly away from your spot so she could fill it.

“Fine, let’s get this over with.”

The process was chaotic from the start. Natasha’s never baked before, and it showed. The first mishap happened when she cracked an egg with a little too much enthusiasm, sending yolk sliding across the counter. And from then, she managed to do nothing correct without your assistance. You were halfway through laughing when she retaliated by flicking a bit of flour at your cheek.

"Did you just—"

Before you could finish, she grinned devilish and dropped more flour over your head, “oh no, looks like you’ve got a little something there.”

Again, the process was chaotic.

Precision measuring gave way to messy improvisation as flour flew through the air in clouds of white. Natasha was unrelenting, chasing you around the island with a bag of powdered sugar like it’s a weapon. By the time you called a truce, the counters, the floor, and both of you were completely dusted with flour. "You look ridiculous.” You said, laughing so hard your sides ached. She wiped a streak of flour off her nose and smeared it onto your shirt. “Speak for yourself. You look like you’ve never seen the sun before.”

When you finally managed to clean up enough to resume baking, Natasha was benched to mixing the dough— far far away from the flour— but it took her all of ten seconds to abandon the spatula and dig in with her hands. “Are you sure this is hygienic?” She asked, grinning as she squished the dough between her fingers like it’s Play-Doh.

You’re pretty sure she doesn’t know what Play-Doh is.

"Absolutely not.” You replied, shaking your head. But neither of you cared. Somehow, The batter never even made it to the oven. After a mutual taste test—"for quality control," Natasha insisted upon —you realised you (she) had eaten most of it. "So, we’re out of ingredients." You admitted, licking a stray smear of molasses from your thumb. Natasha plopped down on the floor, leaning back against the cabinets with a satisfied sigh. “Good.” She said, licking a bit of dough off her finger. “The batter’s better anyway.” You sat beside her, the warmth of the oven lingering even though you never used it. The kitchen was a mess, the cookies a total failure, but none of it mattered.

You both fell asleep that night with the biggest smiles on your face.

⊹♡

Natasha ended up staying the next weekend too. Christmas fell on a Sunday, the big day seemed to sneak up on both of you, but for now, it was Christmas Eve, and the night stretched on, timeless and unhurried. After watching a few Christmas movies, the two of you found yourselves curled up in front of your fireplace — the fireplace being a YouTube video on loop coming from your television. The crackling flames painted your surroundings in shifting shadows, the room bathed in a burnt orange haze that made everything feel a little softer, a little more intimate. Natasha’s arms were wrapped securely around you, her presence grounding and warm. You hummed an old carol you heard once before under your breath, a lullaby that filled the quiet. Her hand traced lazy circles on your back, her fingers light but steady, as though she was trying to etch the moment into her memory. You watched her, unable to help yourself. The way the firelight kissed her skin, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, the peace in her expression— how rare it was to see her like this. Truly at ease. Vulnerable, but not guarded. You wanted to hold this moment forever, to preserve it for her in the way she deserved, and selfishly for yourself.

Falling for Natasha wasn’t difficult. From the beginning of the friendship, there was a constant undercurrent, a slow burn that never fully ignited, yet refused to fade. You fell in love with her so suddenly—in the quiet moments—that you couldn’t figure out when she became more to you than just a friend. Or if she was ever just that. And over the past year, you’d learned there was so much more to her than the cold, unyielding exterior she presented to the world. No one loved as much as she did. And now, as you sat basically on her lap, the space between both impossibly vast and unbearably close, you realised that falling for Natasha wasn’t just easy—it was inevitable.

“This is what Christmas is supposed to feel like.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper, like a thought she hadn’t meant to say aloud. As if she didn’t want to disturb the silence. Her gaze was distant, yet there was a softness in her tone that made your chest burn. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat before they could fully form. “You miss her.” You finally said. It wasn’t quite a question, but Natasha understood. Her eyes flickered to yours, that same vulnerability reflecting through. “I always miss her.” She admitted, her voice even quieter now, almost fragile. She didn’t need to say Yelena’s name; you knew. “It’s strange… even after all these years, I still expect her to be here sometimes. Like she’ll just walk in, scolding me for not keeping the lights on all day or dragging me out of the house to help on her latest conquest.”

Your heart cried out with something deep and tender, the kind of feeling no words could ever quite capture. “I’ve got something for you.” She looked at you, her brow furrowed slightly in curiosity as you stood and walked to the Christmas tree. From beneath its branches, you retrieved a small, carefully wrapped box and brought it back to her—one of many gifts you’ve bought for her. “This was supposed to be for tomorrow,” you said, sitting down beside her again, “but I think it’ll mean more tonight.” She took the gift, her fingers brushing against yours briefly before she began unwrapping it. Beneath the paper was a small music box, its pearl-coloured sides adorned with golden, intricate carvings. She opened the lid, revealing a tiny engraving inside: the words “My Light” in Russian reside underneath a picture of Yelena in her youth, dressed as an angel for a school nativity play, her beaming smile radiant and full of life.

Natasha’s breath caught, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the edges of the engraving. “How did you—” she began, her voice breaking.

“You have to twist the key, Nat.” You said softly, closing the lid of the box.

She turned the key, the lid opening to reveal her younger sister all over again; as the music box began to play a gentle melody. But it wasn’t just music—it was a recording, faint but unmistakable hidden under the notes. The sound of Yelena’s voice filled the room, singing “Silent Night” with all the enthusiasm a child could muster for the slow song. Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth, and tears streamed freely down her face as the recording picked up another voice. It was quieter, steadier, but unmistakably hers. A younger version of her sang along with Yelena, their voices blending, only broken by their shared giggles as they sang together, sometimes stumbling over the lyrics. Her shoulders shook as she listened, and you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. She clung to you, her face buried against your neck, her tears damp against your skin, as sobs rocked her slender frame. You held her tightly, wishing you could somehow ease the weight of her grief and the bittersweet joy of this moment.

Her lips trembled as she tried to form words in the broke of your neck. “This…this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I don’t even know how you did this—” She pulled away from you to glance back at the music box, her fingers delicately tracing the engraved picture of Yelena. “She was my everything. The only good thing I had for so long – moya sestra (my sister), moy malen'kiy svet (my little light.)”

You nodded, squeezing her hand. “I know. And now you have her again, even if it’s just a little piece.” Natasha set the music box down carefully, as though it were made of glass. She leaned forward, confident in her actions, in her love for you—a soft kiss pressed to your lips.

She had never kissed you before.

She wanted to again.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

You leaned in, kissing her once again, the taste of salt comforting. “You deserve everything good in this world,” you said softly, stroking the remnants of her tears, “and you deserve love, Nat. I’ll promise I’ll remind you of that every day.”

You placed a delicate hand over her heart and spoke, “I see you. And in this light of yours, I see her.”

She kissed you again, softer and longer than the last, her lips brushing yours; fuelled behind every emotion, every feeling, every part of her heart that now belonged to you, “Thank you for giving her back to me.”

You smiled softly, brushing a stray red curl away from her face. "I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering, for as long as I can. To remind you there’s always light to find, even in the darkest nights."

She leaned in, resting her forehead gently against yours. "You already have."

You smiled, brushing a stray red curl from her face. “I promise to make every Christmas something worth remembering for as long as I can. And to remind you of her light. With you. With Yelena.”

She leaned in, her forehead pressing gently against yours. “You already have.”

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae!!! I saw that the requests were open so I thought I would request something but if I misread it or something then please ignore this!

I was wondering if you could write something with reader not used to being taken care of? Like they have always taken care of others and have never had the opportunity to be taken care of so when someone else does they feel the need to do something for them in return? I was thinking of maybe Remus for this one? Or maybe a poly! Ship but you can write whoever you want!!

I understand if this is not a topic you would like to write about but I just love your writing and thought I would give it a try. Thank you for reading this anyway and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

(Sorry it’s such a long request)

No you were right lovely! Thanks for your request :)

roommate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 625 words

You pad into the kitchen, blanket around your shoulders and half-dissolved lozenge tucked into your cheek, to find the sink clear of dishes yet again. Guilt grows like winding vines around your ribcage. 

You put on the kettle. Stand over it as the steam starts to rise, breathing in the thick air and imagining you can feel the pressure in your sinuses lessening slightly. You make a cup of turmeric tea with honey for yourself, and English breakfast for Remus, stirring in a tiny bit of sugar the way he likes. You’re careful to keep it well away from you and your potential contagious-ness while you carry it upstairs. 

You knock softly in case, but Remus is awake, as you knew he’d be. 

“Morning,” he says, looking up from his book with a smile. The sight of him, sleep-rumpled and happy to see you, is almost too much. His eyes flicker down to the mugs you’re carrying, eyebrows lifting. “For me?” 

“Mhm.” You pass it to him, ignoring his soft tutting when you turn it in your grip so the handle is facing out towards him. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says warmly. He blows steam off the top, honeyed eyes on yours. “I should be the one getting up to make you tea, really. How are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You shrug, taking a sip of your tea. The heat dissolves your lozenge faster, double soothing for your throat. “And you’ve done more than enough already. Sorry about the dishes.” 

Remus’ expression clouds with confusion for a moment before he realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t be doing dishes if I was unwell, either.” 

“Thanks for doing them for me,” you say softly. Or you try to, but it ends in a rasp, your throat contracting against a cough that doesn’t form. You clear it embarrassedly. 

Your roommate’s brows bend with sympathy. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “It’s really no problem. You don’t need to bring me tea just because I did a few of your dishes.” 

“I want to make it up to you.” 

His expression softens. “There’s nothing to make up, love. It’s not a debt that needs to be repaid.” 

You frown, chewing your lozenge. “At least let me make you breakfast. Is there anything you’re craving?” 

“No.” Remus smiles at you. Not quite confused, almost disbelieving. “You don’t need to make me anything. You should be resting.” 

“I’ve been resting.” You sniff, wincing at the pain it sends through your head. You’ve been either in bed or on the couch for days, and meanwhile Remus has been cleaning up your messes, keeping quiet so you can sleep, and bringing you soup from that place you like down the street. 

“It’s my turn to help now,” you say. 

“It’ll be your turn when I’m poorly and miserable.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, humming disapprovingly. You use every scrap of willpower you have left not to melt into his bed. “Listen to me, alright? I don’t mind looking after you. It’s not transactional. I washed your dishes because they were there and I had the time, and—” He gives you a playful look. “—because I know that if I were up all night coughing, I wouldn’t want to worry about dishes. Okay?” 

His eyes hold yours. You feel perhaps the most out of it you have since this illness came on. Drunk, almost. “Okay,” you capitulate. 

Remus smiles. “Thank you. So you can stop trying to think up ways to get even.” He picks up his tea. “I can see that head of yours working. Leave it alone, it’s going through enough.” 

You smile back, caught. “Thanks for all your help.” 

“Don’t worry about it, love.”

[revelboo]

Aw, I love how you write the buggy boy Waspinator <3

He’s puppy. Ugly puppy.

Worker Bee Pt 9

Waspinator x Reader

• “Please, put me down.” Surprised at how calm your voice is considering you’d just heard your wet towel hit the floor and your clingy, alien bestie has you plastered against him. Those purple optics just stare down at you as his mandibles flex. And you wait for the inevitable ‘why.’ Because anytime you ask him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, it’s his go to. That much you’ve figured out. “Humans don’t like being naked around strangers,” you add trying to answer the question before he can even ask. Not sure if modesty actually means anything to him when he doesn’t wear clothes and has nothing to actually cover up anyway.

• “Not strangers,” he says, slightly hurt. You’re friends. His only friend, the only person he feels like he can trust. Who doesn’t hurt him just because he’s there. “Not strangers.” Aware he’s repeating himself, that the words are more buzz than comprehendible, but it matters. Needs you to understand this. Wings fluttering as he lowers you to your feet and drags you back when you immediately try to escape. Curling himself around you.

• “I didn’t mean it like that,” you groan, trying to push him away as he just clings. Making that pitiful buzzing whine of distress and hugging you to him, still oblivious to the fact that you’re mortified and naked. “We’re friends.” Awkwardly patting him on the head and nearly getting an antenna to the eye when they swing forward to touch your face in return. How is this your life? “Best friends, but humans aren’t usually naked around friends. Modesty. We like wearing clothes.” Exasperated, you almost cry when he lets go and bends to get your towel. Even if his antenna slide against your inner thighs and belly in the process.

• Venting softly as you wrap the bit of cloth about yourself and gently push at him, he doesn’t budge. Knows you want him to leave even though he doesn’t want to. Pretending to not understand, he wanders over to the little shiny box on your dresser and opens it. “Snacks?” And you’re running over, nearly losing your towel again as you take the box away and carry it to the far side of the room.

• “Please don’t eat my jewelry.” He’s just staring at you with confused optics as you set the jewelry box in the closet and start hunting clothes. You’re going to have to start wearing your expensive pieces so he doesn’t sneak them as snacks. Drifting back to the dresser to get underclothes, you’re aware of him just watching. “You’re not going to leave so I can get dressed, are you?” Head tilting and antenna lifting, you decide that’s a no. Of course not. “Okay. Sure.” Grabbing him by the arm, you’re surprised when he lets you turn him around so his back is to you. “Just stay. Don’t move.”

• Humming softly as he listens to the soft sound of cloth sliding, he fidgets his wings and waits. Doesn’t know what this new game is, but hopes he’ll get a reward for being good. Hungry again and knowing he’ll need to return to the Decepticons for energon soon. That thought filling him with anxious energy, because he wants to stay with you where he feels welcome. Maybe not exactly wanted, but tolerated. Aware that he annoys you, but it’s so hard not to constantly reach for you hoping to feel those gentle hands on him. Wanting to be near you, to sit at your feet if that’s all you’ll allow him. Just let him stay. Belong somewhere for the first time ever.

Previous

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

I may go into more detail about “Sinsmas” later, but I did want to talk about what I considered to be the one scene/sequence that I thought was very well done and that I truly enjoyed—Octavia’s song, “I Will Be Okay”.

(Song/Character Discussion below)

Octavia’s song is almost everything I could have asked for. A somber echo of Stolas’ song from season 1, Octavia’s I Will Be Okay, finally, finally, gives Octavia a voice and the chance to express her grief over her father’s abandonment.

For the first time in the series, there’s no one to tell Octavia that she should give her dad some slack or that she should forgive him. She’s finally allowed to be upset, to fully mourn her relationship with Stolas and to get mad about what happened. She’s finally allowed to start working towards accepting the ways Stolas’ neglected her, and begin healing from that pain and trauma.

Octavia’s experience is both terribly heart-wrenching and, in the most painful way, freeing. The lyrics reflect that perfectly, with Octavia acknowledging that while she’s not okay now because of everything Stolas put her through, she WILL be okay, and will grow into her own person without him.

The song is a direct response to Stolas’. Octavia is answering him, saying “Yes, I will be okay. Not because of anything that you were supposed to or failed to provide me as a father, but because I will forge my own path, and in doing so will heal from the pain you caused me.”

It’s a bittersweet song about finding the strength to cut contact with someone you loved who has repeatedly failed you in the worst ways, and who isn’t going to change.

I do have one “criticism” for this song and sequence, not because anything from it was poorly done, but because, in my opinion, the song’s visuals could have been even better.

The following scene was in the original storyboards for “I Will Be Okay”, and was changed in the final episode:

I think the decision to change the visuals for these lyrics in the song was a mistake. Please don’t get me wrong, the animation in this entire episode was fantastic, my critiques of Helluva Boss are almost never about the animation.

But the above sequence just has so much more emotional weight to me. It’s the visualization of Octavia realizing she can’t rely on Stolas, that she has to look to herself for comfort.

Octavia taking her younger self from her neglectful father’s arms, symbolizing that she’s accepted that Stolas cannot be depended on and that she’ll have to take care of herself now, is such a powerful image.

It really is a shame to me that they cut this scene, because I think it fully encapsulates everything Octavia has been through in such a simple and effective way. I think the scene really loses something by cutting this visual.

With all of that said though, Octavia’s song, and the scene where she FINALLY calls Stolas out for his behavior were very cathartic for me. I know that the scene’s intent was most likely to make us empathize with Stolas for losing his daughter, but I found myself empathizing only with Octavia, and hoping that she gets the time she needs to heal.

I would love it if the show actually let her decide whether or not she wants Stolas back in her life, but given the way HB’s writers portray women, I worry that it’s likely some big event will happen that “reveals” Stella to be awful, and Octavia will forgive Stolas just like that, and will probably end up apologizing to him instead (like in “Seeing Stars”)

Anyway, just like Octavia being the only good thing in Stolas’ life, “I Will Be Okay” was, in my opinion, the only good thing in “Sinsmas”. (well that and Octavia calling Stolas out)

[peppermintquartz]

Continuation of this

"Why do I keep thinking about shellfish?" Evan asks after he's eaten breakfast and downed half the bottle of water along with the painkillers.

Tommy pulls up a chair. "You were going on and on about oysters and the sea last night."

"Oysters?" Evan's brow creases adorably. "Why oysters?"

How is it that I can't let you go? Tommy doesn't voice the thought, though he does smile at Evan. "Beats me. You were the one who was fixated on it."

Scowling, Evan pouts as he tugs on the hem of his old tee. The color used to be a dark green but it's been washed so often that it's faded. "It musta made sense. Otherwise I wouldn't be talking about it." Then his brow clears. "You!"

"Me?"

"I was comparing you to oysters!"

Tommy grimaces. Yeah, Chimney did say something to that effect. "You don't like oysters, Ev- Buck."

"Not the ones here in LA, they're fucking overpriced and not fresh enough. Peruvian seafood is among the best in the world, and I had this amazing oyster ceviche once that blew my mind." Evan pauses, then smacks Tommy's arm. "And don't distract me. I'm trying to remember my analogy. Okay, so you're like an oyster. How are you like an oyster?"

"I have the consistency of snot?"

Evan glares at him. It's a cute glare. Tommy coughs into his hand, trying not to show that he is charmed. With a huff, Evan starts with, "Okay. You have cultivated a hard exterior to survive a difficult environment."

Tommy nods. "Fair enough."

"And in response to the difficult environment, you cling to the familiar and try to hide because you're actually full of soft and tender delicious goodness." Evan raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Tommy pretends not to be perturbed by the read. "I guess you'd know exactly how I taste," he jokes flatly. Evan ignores it.

"You hide in plain sight," Evan continues, on a roll now, "and it will take skill to pry you out from your chosen rock." He reaches over to grasp Tommy's forearm. "But there's something that's different between you and oysters."

Tommy can't look at him. "I'm not a mollusc?"

Evan's tone is infinitely gentle. "Yeah. Showing me vulnerable side won't kill you, Tommy."

Clenching his jaw, Tommy stands and takes the tray from the bed. "You can take a shower if you want. I've washed and dried your clothes. A-and you have the other clothes you left here."

"You didn't pack them up," Evan points out when Tommy's nearly to the door. "You could've packed them up with my stuff and returned them. But you didn't." He cocks his head and a sad yet hopeful smile crosses his face. "The way I didn't pack up yours. Because we still want each other in our lives."

Tommy can't breathe. He flees the bedroom.

---

Now that he is here, Buck plans to stay until Tommy really opens up to him. Even if he has to camp here forever. Even if Tommy throws him out physically and changes the locks.

He knows how to pick locks now - thank you, Lockpicking Lawyer - and he will not leave Tommy's home until that uncomfortable conversation about the breakup is held. Maybe several.

Oysters aren't shut forever. At some point they open up. And Buck is going to be there when Tommy does. He's done waiting for Tommy to make the first move. He's done waiting, period. Now he is going to act.

"I'm driving you home," Tommy declares at noon. He is resolutely not making eye contact.

"Good luck doing that," Buck says. "Are you going to carry me out of here? Big strong firefighter pilot like you, I'm sure you can do it."

"I could... I could report you to the police for-for home invasion."

"You brought me home, Tommy. Hen and Chim will vouch for that, and I'm sure there's security footage." Buck isn't smirking, not that Tommy will know since he isn't looking. He gentles his tone. "All I'm asking is for us to talk about our relationship. Why can't we do that?"

His face red, Tommy shuts his eyes. Then he mutters, "Fine. Fine, we'll talk about it. But please put some clothes on."

"You've literally eaten me out for hours before."

"That's when we were dating!"

"If I put some clothes on, promise you won't try to get me out of your house?" Buck says, deliberately shifting in the bed so his legs fall apart a little more. Watching Tommy squirm is kind of fun. (So sue him, Buck's feeling rather vindictive about the entire matter.) "Because I can and will strip in your car and have us both arrested. Then we'll have to spend the night in a jail cell together."

Tommy inhales sharply. "Fine. I promise. Now... now cover yourself up."

First chink in the armor. Buck grabs Tommy's LAFD T-shirt and pulls it on, appreciating the way it hugs his body, and pulls on his briefs. He's been shameless before, he can be shameless again. He'll show Tommy that it's perfectly okay to be vulnerable and open to the people he loves through visual metaphor if his words won't cut it.

Anything to get Tommy to be his again.

[black-occamy-arts-and-crafts]

I have recently received another ask about my canvas pulling and since I've been thinking about making a serious tutorial for a while now, I took the opportunity to take some pics and vids while finishing the tree. Do please enjoy :3

1. Why pulling out canvas at all?

Primarily, this is a fantastic technique to apply cross stitch patterns directly to the item you want OR to make patches from old jeans, like this one:

With small patterns I usually don't bother to sew the canvas prior to embroidering, like with the pupper above. In case of the bigger patterns, I usually sew it lightly on the edges just to keep the canvas in one place. The more stretchy the material type is, the more important it's going to be to keep it in place.

2. Why not use a soluble canvas?

I'm sure you can and that they'll be as successful as the regular one 😁 However, as I mentioned in my previous posts here and here, I prefer to err on the side of cheaper, hence the tutorial.

3. Okay. I'm convinced - I even have a pattern embroidered on! What's next?

With small patterns (like the doggo earlier) it's going to be pretty easy. You just pull the threads one by one - preferably starting on the thinnest part of the pattern - and you may not even need the pliers. The fun (?) is with the large pieces, because the canvas has on average quite fragile threads and they like to break. Note - the canvas I'm using and I suppose most of the existing canvas types, will have four threads per one embroidery row. It's usually easier to pull one first and then the other three, bit that may vary when, for example, you managed to pierce the thread during stitching phase earlier 😉

If you were already careful during the stitching, you paid extra attention to embroider EXACTLY between the canvas threads and avoid piercing them at all. There are two benefits to that being extra careful: one, it's easier to pull it out later; two, the stitching gains an extra precision to it (and it looks great!). I recently discover that the round tip needle is making it much easier and if you're interested, there's a separate post about it as well!

On to the process! You can see from the pictures how I started with cutting out a piece of canvas that I can later reuse for something small (recycling is my hobby 🤷🏻‍♀️). I also pulled loose threads from around the tree:

Next part was to clean up the trunk and the grass on the right:

I then cut off the excess to avoid the threads tangling and slowly moved to the sides of the leaves on right and left:

You'll notice that the last photo has the thread pulled halfway through the pattern. That's because on this stage it's usually impossible to simply pull the thread out - even with the pliers it is just going to break off. I use a needle to pluck it from between the embroidery like this:

If you're more of the visual learner, I made this vid that I hope explains the process in more detail. You'll notice that I'm using my fingers and not the pliers here, because it's faster than to switch between tools.

And finally, when you're left with single direction threads like these, it's just a matter of pulling them out one by one.

And that's it! The final product looks clean and neat, AND you will notice that without the canvas beneath it's also getting a bit of volume that looks cool (and helps even out small mistakes you may have made along the way).

Thanks for reading this far! Let me know if there's something else I forgot to explain 😊

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I just really would love some Harry fluff of any kind I’m not picky I’m just needy😩

Hiii babes!!! Ask and you shall receive! It’s holiday themed fluff if that’s okay? This is honestly just the first thing that popped into my mind so I hope you like this short little blurb!💖

Summary: You and Harry have some last minute gifts to wrap✨

“Did you wrap this gift in the dark?” Harry lets out a huff as he looks up from his current position on the floor of the master bedroom near his side of the bed where he’s surrounded by things still needing to be wrapped as well as a small pile of things he’s done wrapping or placing in gift bags. When he looks up he finds you sitting on the floor near your side of the bed holding something he wrapped last night in a hurry, needing to get it done before you got home. “Why is there so much tape? And is that a-”

“I beg your pardon? That’s a perfect wrapping job considering who the gift is for.” He says in his own defense making you raise a brow as you look at the tag on the poorly wrapped box. He nervously chews on his bottom lip as he waits for your reaction once he sees your eyes scan the name on the tag.

“Harry we said no more gifts for her.” You say with a sigh as you look at the pile of wrapped presents that are along the wall your bedroom door is on. “She’s going to need a second playroom for all this stuff.” Harry follows your gaze and smiles at the thought of your little girl’s face as she opens all her gifts.

“That’s the last thing.” He promises with a smile making you roll your eyes because you heard him say the same thing just last week and yet here you are with another gift in your hands for the two year old little girl who’s currently asleep down the hall. “Besides half of those are clothes so they’ll just go in her closet.” He justifies with a shrug before reaching over to the pile of unwrapped gifts so he can grab one, gently placing it on top of the red and white polka dotted wrapping paper he’s using at the moment.

“Are you wrapping your own gift?” You ask as you slide Harry’s sadly wrapped box towards the wall so it can join the others that are ready to be placed under the tree in the living room.

“My own-oh is this for me?” He holds up the mug that’s in the middle of his wrapping paper and turns it around so he can read what it says but before he can actually get a good look he feels something hit his forehead and land in his lap. “Did you just throw a bow at me?”

“You were about to look at your gift what else was I supposed to do from all the way over here?” Harry lets out a laugh as he picks the bow up and tosses it back over to your side of the room making you giggle when he misses you completely and it lands a good foot away from you. “Be a good husband and bring it to me please? So I can wrap it for you.” You poke out your bottom lip in a playful pout as you look at him from across the room.

Harry looks at you as you wiggle around on the floor with your pillow so you can put it behind your back once you get close enough to the footboard of the bed so you can lean against it. You let out a deep sigh of relief and he can’t help the grin that takes over when he sees you place a hand on your fully formed bump, having hit the “due any day” mark a few days ago he knows getting comfortable is often times a struggle. He gets up after grabbing the mug, making sure he doesn’t look at what it says and after a few careful steps he’s standing next to you.

“The pout wasn’t necessary love.” He teases as you reach up and grab the mug from his hands and place it in the gift bag that’s between your spread legs. You smile when you look up and see he’s still looking down at you, he places a hand on top of the bed so he can lean down and place a quick kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He mumbles against your lips before giving them one last peck.

“I love you too.” He smiles as he stands up and turns to go back to his designated wrapping spot. “But if you get her one more gift I’m telling your mom how you really felt about her fruitcake.” You threaten making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head at your choice of a threat.

“Fine fine no more gifts for her.” You narrow your eyes as he sits down and grabs a pack of customized golf balls to wrap for Niall. He can feel your eyes on him as the corners of his mouth twitch as he fights off a smirk. “But I may have a few more things for him in this pile.” He explains as he tosses a quick look over his shoulder to the pile of gifts he has left in need of wrapping, his eyes landing on a little pair of sneakers he got that might or might not match a pair he has in his own closet.

“You think he’ll show up in time for Christmas? Or will he wait for New Year’s Eve?” You ask as you rub your stomach with one hand and place some tissue paper into the bag with Harry’s mug in it, smiling when you remember that it says “Daddy is a state of mind” in bright pink font, having been obsessed with that quote ever since you heard Pedro Pascal say it during an interview and figuring it fit Harry’s personality perfectly.

“Oh he’s going to make quite the entrance so I’m betting on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.” He answers as he begins to wrap Niall’s gift with some green and white paper.

“He’s going to make an entrance huh? Wonder who he gets that from.” You joke making Harry shoot you a playful glare before both of you go back to wrapping gifts, trying to finish most of it so the next few days you can relax and enjoy the holiday festivities as well as the final days of the Styles household being a little family of three before your son decides to make his arrival.

[merrylou-mas]

i choose us every time

Hey hey! This is a little Christmas present (and an inside joke) for my delightful friend @desert--moonchild. Moon, I really hope you like this. 😘😘

I hope you guys enjoy it too!

Song title from Carry You Home by Alex Warren.

bucktommy - words: 3.4k - Rating: explicit - complete

“You’re sweet, coming here just because he asked you to.” Tommy shrugs, looking back at Evan, Karen, and Maddie. “I love him. Anytime he asks me to do something I didn’t expect to do, whether it be small or not, I’m okay with it. More than, because it’s the least I can do. Hen regards him carefully. “You trying to make up for misdeeds?” Tommy shrugs but she seems to know anyway. “You know he doesn’t think of it that way. You guys worked everything out and are better than ever.” “I know,” Tommy admits. “But I’ve also spent a lot of my life going with the flow...being with him opens up my world, you know?”

Or: 5 times Tommy doesn't say no to Buck, stepping out of his comfort zone, and 1 time he doesn't have to think about it.

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