#cra posts
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#i did this instead of doing productive important things :]#who doesnt like an outdated meme#pomni is me when my friend used to do this ahh good times#pomni#pomni tadc#tadc caine#caine#the amazing digital circus#im joking guys i wasnt this crazy#Crazy? i was crazy once they put me in a room a rubber room with rubber rats. Rats? i hate rats they made me cra-#floofyeldog stuff#my art#my post
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I need the paper cranes (I think thats what the creepy organisation is called?) To be a cult so so bad hnggrhrnnn
#sbg#school bus graveyard#my post#schoolbus graveyard#aftg got me obsessed w it and now I apply it everywhere. PAPER CRANES CULT PAPER CRANES CULT PAPER CRANES CULT PAPER CRANES CULT PAPER CRA-
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Here is my art that represents how my 2024 year went, and how my fandoms changed over time-
#digital art#traditional drawing#sketches#multiple fandoms#fnaf dca#catnap#CRA-16#My OC#Rinn#fnaf into the pit#finding frankie#Weirdcore#Weirdcore OC#crayoninthecolorvoid#my art of 2024#happy new year#2024 art#sorry for being slow to post recently been busy with family situations#will try to post soon
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HELLO! People from twitter who want to post their q!Cellbit × q!Roier fanart: we mostly use the tag "spiderbit" as their ship name! Guapoduo is more of a platonic name :>
ALSO! Is good to remind you guys to not tag "minecraft" in Philza Minecraft!
#qsmp#phantom shenanigans#spiderbit#guapoduo#mi ne cra ft in Phil's name will put the post under the m i n e c r a f t tag#which is supposed to be completely separate from the mcyt fandom
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THERES NOTHING FANDOM WISE FOR CUB RAISING ASSOCIATION???!!!!
ignore me as i cry
#theres one other post in the tag not made by me#i gotta start writing fanfiction if only so i can write for this fandom#cub raising association#cra#danmei#im pulling out the big tag#maybe someone will see and decide to read it#its so good and fluffy#take my bait PLEASE
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vk resellers are so bad.....why is a dvd reselling for 8500 yen when its still being sold on the bands site for 6500
#brie rambles#every day i see the resale price for that caligari deadman dvd and literally hope someone posts it online public so the market for that cras#*crashes. its not like either band is making a profit and ppl selling it for like over 100$ of the original asking price. like. come on.
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Me trying to think up a random character to draw with Vriska(not magnus) vs me trying to think up a random character to draw with Feferi(i forgot that nepeta was supposed to be here that's probably why i can't think up anything. what! i had a long game of 40k today and it's almost 3 am, sue me)
#ugh i can't believe I wasted my time with this. why in the world did i think more than 2 people voted for feferi? she didn't even make the#top 3. accidentally pressed post too soon. dang it this post is going to crabp and a handbasket.#it was nepeta and vriska that made it to the final poll that then only got one vote and it was for roxy#i was going to tag this but it turned into a trainwreck of getting it wrong#I mean i did have fun with the edits but that's because troll horn edits are fun to draw#heck if i had a twitter following i bet i could go “hey yall give me some images I want to troll-ify them” and get like 10 gits give me cra#crabp* dont want to get too profane here.#I swear though it feels like I am going to DETONATE sometimes because I cant really talk to anyone about homestuck. I swear all this was#completely unplanned. I wanted to figure out what the various things on my various social medias were and I got walled out by having to rea#all of homestuck because “i said i would so i am forced to do it” and the ol autistic brain fell for the trap and now we're into homestuck.#like i swear how do gits make “friends” or at the very least “OOMFS” (i don't know what that means im just assuming the meaning) on the int#rnet???#midnight brainrot
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#me seeing my moots here like my posts from my personal: i c u#idk if yall even kno what my personal is LOL but i c u sneheeh#i c u ily#glad to see my cra/ckshi/p gifs are lulling yall in slowly#honestly most of them arent even things rped on tumblr theyre just talked abt to my besties LMAO#but im glad im not the only one who uses them/sees them/cares#out.
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https://mangocityit.com/service/buy-zomato-reviews/
#Buy Zomato Reviews Cheap#Buy Zomato Reviews each entrepreneur’s fantasy is to expand its online presence through a very decent edge and remain in the top on web cra#you can without much of a stretch enquire online the clients posting reviews#it doesn’t make any difference it is positive or negative. This will further develop the client experience about your business and by furth#photographs#client reviews#and appraisals to make your brain up. Any place you wish to eat and utilize the guide component to direct you there. Thus#buy Zomato Review from here.#What’s Zomato Reviews?#The complete honesty of nourishment Zomato gives food and data on the food. Just as the menu pictures where buyers don’t have its awesome o#food is their very own buyer webpage#Jam two actually permits them to inspect different parts of Associate just as nursing food in their application and site. Assuming you are#utilizing Zomato you can track down the demonstrated eatery with the sureness that you will observe what you are searching for#on account of the remarks of different clients.#Why You Buy Zomato Reviews?#Zomato reviews are an imperative piece of the virtual business world and significant for online retailers. Assuming that you are an interne#restaurants#lodgings#and different facilities#buying Zomato Reviews to further develop your business in a brief time frame isn’t a possibility for you. Other than this#having numerous Zomato 5-Star Reviews will help your general certainty and increment communications with your ideal crowds.#Zomato Reviews Advantages#Zomato perhaps the greatest test of food disclosure is that it connects with an individual’s nearby taste. Zomato base can be a cloud-based#each and every round of utilization goes as Po Framework Associate#since it includes different Zomato things. Through Zomato Base#the best sign of diners is to give data. Thus#Benefits of Positive Zomato Reviews#By far most of eateries are situated in Zomato such countless individuals access the stage looking for a spot to eat. Having great reviews#noting at whatever point an issue or rate emerges. Numerous positive reviews and evaluations will make café visits increment and hence deal#consequently including a positive appraisal inside the stage is fundamental for organizations in the area. Zomato is an incredible apparatu
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😎 rules: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips
@theharrowing i'm pretending that you tagged me because i'm bored and this seems fun lol (putting them all under the cut because they'll prob be long)
tagging: anyone that would like to do it, please feel free to say i tagged you 💕
3 published:
can't run away
“No, I have no intention to collect some reward for you, if one even exists,” you confirm. “But why?” he asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat like he can’t sit still. It’s interesting to see when he was resting so peacefully without moving. “Because,” Chirron interjects, clearly intent to take away any fun, “she prefers not to deal in things as meaningless as currency or credits.” “How do you live?” he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his face. “I��ve got enough credits to keep us going for years,” you answer vaguely. “What else is there to work for?” the stranger wonders. You turn your seat fully so it’s facing him and lean forward, dropping your voice a little. “So many things, sweetheart. Favors, information, gossip…secrets.” His eyes go wide, like it’s something he’s never considered before. And he probably hasn’t. If he’s a Level 1, and you’d bet your ship that he is at this point, then this is so wildly out of normality for him. The Level 1s are pristine, like the celebrities of the galaxy living in luxury with someone to help keep them functioning at the highest levels. They’ll never see the types of jobs that Level 3s see, those jobs that nobody else wants to do. They’ll never work the way that Level 2s do, or have to work for humans in that way. Which isn’t to say their lives are perfect. It’s just not the kind of life where they see the dirty types of jobs that you and Chirron are used to. “Why don’t you give me a name, sweetheart? Unless you prefer the pet name, which is fine by me,” you say. He hesitates, before saying, “Vernon.”
some habits are hard to break
So, yeah, things with him are good, great even. But… And that’s the thing, isn’t it? As soon as there’s a but, it’s like you can’t see all of the good. It’s all just a placeholder before what may be the worst three-letter word in the English language. You wonder if it means there’s just something fundamentally wrong with you. Who looks for the “buts” of every situation? Why can’t you just appreciate all the truly wonderful things in your relationship? Because you’ve had the one thing you’re missing. You know it exists and it’s hard to forget. Your boyfriend is great, perfect, even, in almost every way that matters. It’s just, you’re not exactly…satisfied. And you know that you could guide him to be better for you in that way. He just seems a bit sensitive about it at times and you don’t want to make him feel less than since he never does that to you. This is exactly why you’re staring at your phone. Paralyzed because you both want to send the text and know you really can’t. Your body remembers his, remembers the way the slightest touch sent your heart racing. You try to also remember every word he’s ever uttered to you, too, because he’s always been very clear about who he is. It’s fucked up that you’re even considering it, beyond wrong that you typed those 5 words out in an empty conversation thread. (Even though you usually keep every conversation, you deleted this one after you got serious about your boyfriend. You say it’s to keep the temptation away, but really, how well is that working now?)
tell me how it got this way
Hoseok: hey, it’s been a while … Hoseok: I hope you haven’t deleted my number Hoseok: I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I was hoping we could meet up, you know, two old friends. At that moment, your brain jolts your body back into action, and you’re mad, maybe unreasonably mad, but you’re seething. How dare he? After all this time? After everything that was said? How fucking dare he act like the reason you hadn’t spoken all these years had been something mutual rather than something that was entirely on him. No, you hated Jung Hoseok. Hate him more than anyone you’d ever known. Hate him more than the ex that cheated on you with some fucking yoga instructor. Hate him more than your ex, who had decided you weren’t “marriage” material, whatever the fuck that meant. This is different. It had struck you so deeply and changed the entire way you saw everything, the way you interacted with everyone. When you and Namjoon started working together, he had commented that it felt like you were an entirely different person than whoever had written the pages in front of him. That person was vibrant and funny, and open. You seemed closed off, even cynical, despite being so young. You had shrugged it off, and he hadn’t pressed, likely because he appreciated the talent in the work he was reading. This was the reason, though. Jung Hoseok. It’s been 5 years of carefully putting it in a box and tucking it away. And they’re good boxes you used, very sturdy. It’s been such a long time since he crossed your mind that you thought you were over it all, all the pain, hurt, and betrayal. You have to fight the urge to throw your phone across the room, knowing that the lecture you’d get when you tell Namjoon you need a new one isn’t worth it. You want to scream, but it’s nearly midnight, and you have neighbors that would likely hear. Not that you care, exactly, but the last thing you want to do is explain to them that someone you’d known years ago randomly popped back into your life like it was nothing and you can’t cope with it. So you keep running down the list of options for how to react to this and wish you knew how to handle something like a normal, well-adjusted adult. You can’t stop your brain from running down yet another list, about a mile a minute, of every possible reason why he’s reaching out now. Why is he thinking of you? What does he want? That’s the reality, after all this time, it isn’t just to catch up. He must want something and think he’ll be able to get it from you.
3 WIPs
unnamed sequel to: some habits are hard to break
“This seat still taken?” You look up to find the man that Jungkook asked about moments earlier and that’s when it clicks. Yes, you do know him and you finally remember from where. The world certainly works in mysterious ways. “No,” you answer with a smile. “Do you mind?” he asks. “Go ahead,” you offer and take in his features, for real this time. Without the haze of alcohol or fights or Jungkook clouding your vision. “I’m not sure if you remember me, but…” he begins. “We met at a bar and you took me home and just let me sleep it off, yeah it’s hazy but I remember,” you finish. “I, uh, well I tried to text you when I realized you were gone,” he says, an embarrassed smile gracing his beautiful features. “I guess you must’ve given me the wrong number.” “Oh, wow, I guess I don’t remember much,” you say. “Can I see your phone? Did you keep the number I gave anyway?” “Yeah, here,” he says and hands over his phone. You realize your mistake right away. “Well this is embarrassing.” “Didn’t wanna run into me again?” he asks. “No, no, that’s not it at all. At the very least I owe you a thanks for being a decent guy,” you say. “No, I tried to give you my real number, I just mixed up these last two numbers.” “I’m glad I ran into you then,” he says as you fix the entry. “Yeah, me too,” you say and find you mean it.
i dare you
“Why are you avoiding her anyway?” Seungcheol asks. He moves his fingers through the pieces looking for one and lets out a sigh when he finds what he’s looking for. “I’m not,” Jeonghan answers shortly. Seungcheol looks up for real at that, has that look on his face like he’s just so fucking done with everything. It’s a familiar look and Jeonghan hates it. “Be serious, Han. You’re ignoring her, which is fine, but only if you admit it’s because you’ve finally realized you’re in love with her.” Jeonghan goes silent, feels like the air is sucked out of the room. His heart feels tight. Because this is something he’s been debating with himself for the last few days. (Last couple weeks, if he’s being honest. Okay, last couple months, but really, who’s counting?) And really, how stupid would that be? You’re friends, best friends, and he can’t mess that up. You’ve said yourself that he’s your favorite person, that’s all it is. When Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, Seungcheol sighs, marks his page, and shuts the instruction book. Moves it to the side for good measure. “Look, Han, if…we don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.” Not if it wasn’t true, Jeonghan notes. There’s no mention of Seungcheol being wrong because he doesn’t think he is. Not that Jeonghan thinks he is either. “I don’t know, I guess it might be good to talk about?”
first impressions & second chances
“Did you hear that? Your friend says I’m pretty,” you gloat. “He doesn’t need to hear it, he clearly already knows. He’s got eyes,” Minghao says with a shrug, like this is barely of any consequence. “I will never let him live this down,” you declare, earning several laughs. “Surely he must have told you that you’re beautiful before,” Seokmin wonders. “I assumed that’s really why he wasn’t bringing you around, because he doesn’t want to share.” That makes you laugh, hard. Thankfully you have a friend next to you in Soonyoung, whose eyes are crinkling along with the laughter. “I don’t think he’s ever told her that she’s pretty in the entire time I’ve known them.” “Well that’s just wrong,” Seokmin says. “Is that so, Seok?” Joshua asks. You glare over at Joshua, not liking the way this has turned. Seokmin, at least out of the corner of your eye, looks like he’s fumbling a little. Seems like he might be a little unsure of what to say. “Oh, I see what you’re doing,” Soonyoung cuts in. “You’re trying to make us forget you let her call you Joshie because our best friend is gorgeous.” “Our best friend?” Joshua asks. Just like that, the attention is off of Seokmin, and honestly off of you as well, as they all bicker back and forth about who is best friends with whom. It’s honestly kind of fun and chaotic to be with the whole group like this. You even think that maybe you ought to do it a little more.
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--- [redacted]
#cra---no. im not saying it. we won't do film analysis-reception here.#(head in hands)#god i would've been insufferable if i read this paper a week ago#it's not even strictly film analysis either. my own fucking oc. shows. im dying here.#how to cut the rot out of my brain before i start making posts
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what's even funnier is when i drive w my mom, she is ALWAYS talking AT me & then has the audacity to judge my driving bc the car is HERS
#☼.txt#oh my gosh i stopped 'too fast' & ur head jerked ONLY SLIGHTLY bc u werent sitting right in ur seat#bc u want to be FACING ME while i drive & you retell me how fucked up ur childhood was oh wow cra#crazzzyyyyyy haha.#ALSO ALSO ??? bc i dont wanna make another post.#my parents think it's 'so cute?' that i have to spend like. five minutes adjusting my seat & mirrors & shit#so that i dont spend the entire time driving feeling like im going fucking CRAZY bc something is out of PLACE#they're always like 'what if you were being chased?'#???? HUH ???
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ain’t nothing like an asian wedding! ⟢ LN4
part two of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part one part three
PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!asian!reader
SUMMARY: you and lando just wanted to make the most of your singapore trip before heading off to the UK, but it seems like everything descended into series of unfortunate events. though maybe, this is also a way to get lando be acquainted with everyone that may or may not drive your whole family crazy and singapore’s social elites on a daily basis.
REMINDERS: 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: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, google translated chinese, mentions of gutted fish, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, minor public indecency (not main characters), mentions of marriage & grandchild, mean/bully characters, and minor typographical errors.
WORD COUNT: 18k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! i hope you are all having a very wonderful holidays! so i have decided to post the part 2 of ‘stickwitu’, ask and you shall receive! lolz but i love crazy rich asians so much and i just can’t let go of this kind of crossover (?). i had decided to chop off this one to three parts, with 20k max of word count since i wanna get it all out there. this one is open for taglist as well since there will be a part 3 of this, so just comment if you wanna be tagged hehe. your comments/reblogs are highly appreciated 🥺 hope you’ll enjoy this second part! <3
The early return was unplanned but felt necessary after everything that happened at Araminta’s bachelorette party. The atmosphere among the girls was tense, full of subtle jabs and veiled competition that you and Rachel simply were not in the mood to tolerate any longer.
On the second day, when you got the chance, over breakfast, you leaned over to Rachel and whispered your plan. She hesitated at first, unsure if Araminta would even believe it, but eventually nodded in agreement, trusting you to handle the situation.
You approached Araminta just before the midday activities, adopting a concerned tone as you told her that Rachel was not really feeling well. You explained how she had been feeling faint and a bit queasy since the night before but had been trying to push through. Araminta’s face immediately fell into worry, and she reached out to Rachel, who played her part perfectly, adding a weak smile and saying she just needed rest.
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel murmured, holding Araminta’s hand. “I really wanted to stay, but I think it’s better if I head back to the city.”
Araminta turned to you, her concern for Rachel deepened. “Do you need me to come with you? I don't want you both traveling alone if she’s not well.”
You shook your head, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “Absolutely not. Minty, this is your bachelorette party, and you shouldn’t leave everyone behind. I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be fine, I promise.”
It took some convincing, but eventually, Araminta relented. She hugged you both tightly, telling Rachel to rest and recover, that she’ll be seeing you both on the wedding day. As you left the island, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the lie, but the overwhelming relief of leaving outweighed it.
The flight back to the city was quiet at first, the two of you decompressing from the tension of the past day. Rachel let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we pulled that off. I feel terrible lying to her, though.”
You sighed, leaning back into the plush seat. “I know. But honestly, that crowd was unbearable. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.”
“Thank you for getting me out of there. I owe you one.” Rachel smiled gratefully at you.
Once you landed, the two of you decided to make the most of the unexpected free day. You took her to some of your favorite spots in Singapore, then introduced her to local dishes and hidden gems around the city. From the bustling hawker centers to the serene gardens, you wanted her to see more than just the usual tourist spots.
“You weren’t kidding when you said Singapore is magical,” she said as she admired the view from Marina Bay Sands.
“It’s home,” you replied with a small smile. “And now you’ve seen a little piece of it.”
By the time you dropped her off at the hotel, it was late, the city lights twinkling against the dark sky. As you hugged her goodbye, Rachel whispered, “thanks again for today. I really needed this.”
“You’re very welcome, and hey, if anyone asks, you’re still recovering from that ‘terrible stomach bug.’”
Your family driver was already waiting as you stepped out of the hotel. You gave Rachel one last wave before sliding into the car, sinking into the leather seat as the city blurred past the window. The relief of being home and away from the chaos of the island was evident, and for the first time in days, you felt at ease.
The house was quiet as you stepped inside, but your mind was already racing with the thought of seeing Lando. The faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft creak of the floor beneath your feet were the only sounds accompanying you as you called out his name. No response.
You wandered from room to room, checking the living room, kitchen, even the study, but there was no sign of him. Then, as you approached the sliding glass doors leading to the patio, you saw him sitting there, phone in hand, smiling and laughing as he talked to someone on facetime.
Lando’s gaze shifted towards the door as you slid it open, and his face lit up when he saw you. He motioned for you to come over, his smile growing even more brighter. You made your way to him, the cool evening breeze brushing against your skin.
As you reached him, you wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, and he returned the kiss, deeper and more deliberate. When you pulled away slightly, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of surprise.
“You’re back early,” he murmured softly, his thumb grazing your hip.
“I’ll tell you everything later,” you said, glancing toward the phone in his hand. It was that you noticed the familiar face on the screen, Max. “Hi, Max,” you greeted warmly.
“Hey, you,” Max replied with a grin, leaning closer to the camera. “Back already? Thought you were off on some wild bachelorette adventure?”
You laughed softly. “Something like that. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you guys. How have you been? And Pietra? I can’t wait to catch up when we're in the UK for Christmas.”
Max chuckled. “We’re good. Pietra’s already planning the whole holiday—dinner menus, decorations, everything. You’ll have to let her drag you into the chaos.”
Lando shifted slightly, pulling you down onto his lap, his hand resting on your waist as he held his phone with the other. You settled against him, his fingers idly tracing shapes on your side while you continued chatting with Max.
“She doesn’t have to drag me. I’m ready for it,” you replied, smiling. “Tell her to save me a spot in the kitchen, I’m good at taste-testing.”
“I’ll pass that on,” Max and Lando shared a laugh, but then Max’s expression softened. “Honestly though, it’s good seeing you hoth happy. Pietra and I were just talking about how happy you’ve made this muppet. But you know, we were skeptical at first.”
“Oh, I remember,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Something about expecting me to be snobby?”
Max laughed, holding both his hands up in defense. “Hey, it’s not everyday that someone from your background walks into our lives. But you proved us wrong pretty quickly. You’re as down-to-earth as they come, and more importantly, you make little Lando happy. That’s all we care about.”
Your gaze shifted to Lando, whose thumb was tracing idle patterns on your side, a content smile resting on his face. “Well, he makes me happy too,” you said softly.
Max smiled. “Good. That’s all that matters. Anyway, I’ll let you two catch up. Don’t keep him up too late.”
You laughed, nodding. “I’ll make sure he gets some sleep. See you soon, Max.”
“See you soon,” he replied, before ending the call.
As the screen went dark, Lando set his phone down and wrapped both arms around you, holding you close.
“I missed you,” he murmured, voice low and earnest.
“I missed you too,” you whispered, leaning into him, the weight of the past few days melting away in his embrace.
The evening air was cool and crisp as you sat comfortably on Lando’s lap, the soft hum of distant city noise blending with the quiet rustle of leaves. His arm rested securely around your waist while his other hand lazily drummed against the armrest of the chair. He tilted his head slightly to look at you, his expression soft but curious.
“So,” he began, voice low and easy, “why are you back early? I thought you had a few more days of bachelorette shenanigans left.”
You let out a small sigh, glancing at the darkened sky before turning your gaze back to him. “It’s a long story,” you said, trying to suppress the frustration that the memory brought up.
Lando’s brows lifted slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’ve got plenty of time and I’m not going anywhere,” he teased, tone light as he tightened his arm around you.
You laughed softly before settling deeper into his embrace. “Okay, so Rachel traveled with Minty and the other girls ahead of me to Samsara, right? I had to leave later because of a meeting, so I got there after everyone else.”
Lando nodded, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, silently encouraging you to continue.
“When I arrived at the villa,” you said, voice dropping slightly, “I saw Rachel speed-walking back from the spa. She was just wearing her robe, and she looked…off. Like she was about to cry, so I went to her and asked what happened, but she didn’t answer me right away. She just kept walking, looking like she wanted to disappear.”
His expression shifted to one of concern, his brows furrowing as he listened intently.
“I followed her back to the villa she was staying,” you continued, tone growing more serious. “And that’s when we saw a huge gutted fish on her bed, with pink lipstick scrawled across the glass window that said, catch this, you gold-digging bitch.”
Lando’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his jaw tensing. “What the hell?” he muttered, his voice edged with disbelief.
“I know,” you said, exhaling sharply at the memory. “I wanted to call security right then and there, but Rachel stopped me—she didn’t want to make a scene. She was so humiliated, Lan. You could see it all over her face.”
He shook his head, voice low. “That’s fucking awful. Who even does something like that?”
“Oh, I know exactly who’s capable of pulling this kind of stunt,” you said scoffing, tone sharp with certainty. “Francesca Shaw. That little bitch.”
“Who’s Francesca Shaw?” Lando asked in curiosity.
You tilted your head, letting out a dry laugh. “She’s Nadine Shaw’s daughter, one of Auntie Eleanor’s closest friends. Francesca used to be an heiress to the Shaw Foods fortune, but her grandfather cut her off completely from the will after waking up from coma. Guess grandpa Shaw didn’t like how little miss two-faced was spending the family money.”
His brows shot up in surprise. “So, she’s broke now?”
“Eh, pretty much,” you said. “And before you ask, yes, she’s also Nicky’s ex. They dated briefly years ago, but it didn’t go anywhere because Nicky didn’t like how her attitude began to change for the worse. Francesca clearly thought she still had shot, but when Rachel came into the picture, that dream was practically over. She’s been a bitter bitch ever since.”
Lando leaned back slightly, grip still firm on your waist. “So, she’s trying to ruin things for them all because of jealousy?”
“Not just jealousy,” you corrected. “Envy. She’s spent her whole life in circles like ours, and now that she’s lost her position, she’s desperate to claw her way back in. She probably sees Rachel as a threat, someone she thinks doesn’t belong.”
He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “That’s pathetic. I can’t believe someone would go that far.”
“I know,” you said softly. “But Rachel didn’t want to make waves, especially not at Minty’s party. It wasn’t the time or place, and honestly, I just wanted to get her out of there. I wasn’t going to let Rachel stay there a second longer, so I told her to act like she was sick, and we left. The toxicity is just too much.”
Lando’s eyes scanned your face, then pressed a soft kiss to your temple, voice filled with reassurance. “You did the right thing. I’m glad that you were there for her.”
You gave him a small smile, “I just couldn’t stand by and let Francesca get to her. Rachel doesn’t deserve any of the shit they’re throwing to her at all.”
“Neither of you do,” Lando said firmly. “But I’m glad you’re back.”
You nodded, feeling the tension in your body ease slightly as you settled back into his embrace, the weight of the day beginning to dissipate.
The next day, you and Lando found yourselves back at your Ah Ma’s estate, where everyone was gathered in the big, spacious dining room that was only reserved for the family. The air was warm with the aroma of fresh dough and seasoned fillings, as half a dozen maids moved seamlessly, rolling small balls of dough into flat circles and forming minced meat into dozens of uniform, expertly shaped balls.
You were seated beside Nick, with Lando on your other side. While this was not Lando’s first time making dumplings, you often found yourself teaching him the technique whenever you were in Monaco. It had become a little tradition between the two of you as well, and you always made sure to leave him with a stack of freshly prepared dumplings to store in his freezer before you fly back to New York.
Lando had a knack for making dumplings by now, though you couldn’t always trust him with all the cooking in general, especially after the time you learned through Max’s stream that he had been running on no sleep for twenty-six hours, eaten out-of-date food, and spent his break before the Las Vegas GP playing call of duty. Dumplings, at least, were something he could handle—trusting not to burn his own kitchen down.
A maid carried a tray of the minced meat balls to the center of the room, where your mother and other family members—Nick, Rachel, Oliver, and your Aunties Alix and Eleanor, were all gathered around a large table. They worked busily, folding dumplings with swift, practiced hands and placing them neatly into stacked bamboo steamers.
This was a cherished family tradition, and your Aunties led the effort with the ease of many years of experience, their hands moving expertly while they kept up a lively flow of conversation. The hum of chatter filled the dining room, blending perfectly with the rhythmic movements of the dumpling-making process.
Your Auntie Eleanor carefully inspected the tray of folded dumplings and gave a satisfactory nod of approval, her sharp eye ensuring every piece was up to standard. Meanwhile, your mother glanced at the dozen trays already filled, her expression betraying a mix of alarm and disbelief.
“This is all too much,” your Auntie Alix remarked, shaking her head as she folded another dumpling with her precise fingers. “We’re only hosting a rehearsal dinner, not feeding an entire army.”
Your Auntie Eleanor countered almost immediately, her tone firm yet practical. “It is better that it’s too much than too little. Imagine people saying we’re stingy, that’s much worse.”
On the other side of the table, Nick was patiently teaching Rachel how to fold her first dumpling. He held the thin dumpling dough in his hand, placed a small ball of minced meat in the center, and carefully folded the edges, sealing it closed with practiced ease.
“It’s like tucking in a baby,” Nick explained, glancing at Rachel with a smile.
Rachel’s face lit up at the analogy. “That’s so cute,” she said, then added with mock horror, “and then you eat the baby.”
Her comment sent everyone into fits of laughter. Then Oliver, always quick to join in on the fun, leaned forward and added his own take on how to fold a dumpling.
“Grand Auntie Mabel taught me that folding dumplings is like getting botox,” he said, picking up dumpling dough. “The filling is the botox, and the wrapper is the face. You pinch it here and here, and voilà! You now have a flawless face.”
The whole table erupted with laughter again, and Rachel, shaking her head at the humor, asked, “did you all learn how to make dumplings when you were kids?”
You turned to her and nodded, folding another dumpling as you replied, “we didn’t exactly have a choice, it was mandatory.”
Then your mother chimed in from across the table, her voice carrying a mix of pride and amusement. “We taught all of you so that you’ll all understand the blood, sweat, and tears it took to raise and feed you monkeys.” she said, folding her dumpling expertly and placing it on the tray.
Your Auntie Alix nodded in agreement with your mother. “Not like the ang-mohs, microwaving everything for their children. No wonder, when their parents grow old, they send them to the old folks’ home.”
Lando turned to you, asking silently that only the two of you could hear, “babe, what’s ang-mohs?”
“Oh, it’s a colloquial expression used to refer to Caucasians or Westerners.” you replied as Lando nodded.
“Exactly. That’s what Ah Ma always says, if we don’t pass down traditions like this, they slowly disappear.” your Auntie Eleanor chimed in, tone firm.
You snickered, rolling your eyes playfully as you murmured loud enough with the intent for everyone to hear, “well, God forbid that we lose the ancient Chinese tradition of guilting your children.”
“Honestly, learning how to make these dumplings is totally worth it. I remember back when I was little, Mom used to wait for me after school with a basket of fresh dumplings.” Nick added, voice softened at the memory, and your Auntie Eleanor smiled, corners of her mouth tugging upward in quiet nostalgia.
“幸運嘅男孩!” (lucky boy!) your Auntie Alix said.
You turned to your mother and teased, “how come I never got after-school dumplings?”
Before your mother could muster out a reply, Oliver had beat her to it, smirking as he quipped, “well, probably because Auntie Elizabeth was busy having an after-school microdermabrasion.”
Your mother gasped, mock-scolding him in rapid Cantonese. “你真系个叻嘅屁股! 如果你嘅祖父仲在生,佢會直接將你踢到下周.” (you’re such a smart-ass! if your grandfather were still alive, he’d kick you straight into next week) with a quick flick of her wrist, your mother threw a piece of dumpling dough at Oliver, which hit his shirt with a soft plop.
“Auntie!” Oliver looked down at the dough stuck to his chest, brushing it off with an exaggerated pout. “This is Dolce, you know.”
Laugher rippled through the room again, the air filled with warmth, teasing, and the familiar comfort of family banter.
Your Auntie Alix turned to Rachel, her expression curious yet kind. “Rachel, do you speak Cantonese?”
Rachel shook her head, smiling politely. “No, I don’t,” she admitted, then quickly added, “but it’s so great seeing your family bond like this.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Oliver, all of you caught slightly off guard by her statement, except Nick. It was not something you really thought about, it was just how things were.
Rachel seemed to sense everyone’s confusion and explained further, “growing up, it was just me and my Mom. We didn’t have a big family like yours, this is really special.”
“We’re glad that you appreciate it,” Oliver said softly. “You’re right, we’re lucky to have this.”
Your mother and Auntie Alix both smiled, their postures relaxing just a little. Your Auntie Alix even murmured, “it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it.”
Rachel, emboldened by the shift in mood, turned her attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had been largely quiet, methodically folding dumplings with precision. Her gaze fell on the large emerald ring your Auntie Eleanor was wearing, glinting under the soft light as she carefully placed a dumpling into a bamboo steamer.
“That ring is very stunning, Auntie Eleanor,” Rachel said, voice genuinely admiring. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
You paused mid-fold, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you, his eyes widening slightly. The conversation from the other night before leaving for Samsara immediately surfaced in your mind.
Your mother and Auntie Alix both turned to look at your Auntie Eleanor, their expressions carefully neutral as they waited to see how she would respond. Your Auntie Eleanor looked genuinely surprised, her delicate hands momentarily pausing their rhythmic folding of dumplings.
“This ring,” she began, glancing at the emerald on her finger, “was made by my husband, Nick’s father, when he proposed to me.”
Rachel’s eyes lit up with interest. “That’s really amazing. Did he design it himself?”
She gave a small node, movements deliberate as she reshmed folding another dumpling. “He did. He wanted it to be one of a kind.”
“That’s incredible! Where did you two meet?” Rachel's eyes lit up with curiosity, leaning slightly forward.
Nick jumped in, tone light and proud. “They met at Cambridge, both are studying law.”
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn't know you were a lawyer.” she said, admiration apparent.
Your Auntie Eleanor resumed folding, her expression calm but firm. “I didn’t finish,” she clarified. “When we got married, I chose to withdraw from university.”
Rachel blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry…”
Noticing the slight tension that was slowly forming, your Auntie Eleanor elaborated, voice steady as she carefully sealed another dumpling.
“I made that decision to help my husband run his business and to raise a family. To me, that was a privilege,” she glanced at Rachel, her gaze sharp yet polite. “But to some others, it might seem old-fashioned.”
Rachel hesitated, not really sure of how to respond, but before she could say anything, your Auntie Eleanor continued.
“It’s nice of you that you appreciate this,” she said, gesturing to the room that was filled with chattering and dumpling-making. “Everyone together, contributing, creating something. But I want you to fully understand that all of this doesn’t happen by accident or with the snap of a finger. It’s because we’ve always prioritized family above all else.”
Her voice took on a slightly sharper edge, though still calm. “Sometimes, that means letting go of personal ambitions for the greater good. It’s a lesson I learned early on and one I hope will never be forgotten.”
A very heavy awkward silence settled over the table. You felt Lando’s hand subtly intertwining your fingers under the table, as you glanced at Rachel. Her smile faltered slightly, and her posture stiffened as though she was not entirely sure how to respond.
Your mother and Auntie Alix remained silent, both just looking at their dumplings, minding their own business, their expressions natural but tense. You knew they were traditional in their own ways, yet far more accepting than your Auntie Eleanor. They were not going to intervene, but their discomfort was apparent.
Rachel finally nodded, voice quiet but steady. “I see. Thank you for sharing that, Auntie Eleanor,” she said, offering a faint smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
Then, the dining room doors opened with a soft creak, and your Ah Ma entered with her Thai maids following closely behind, their presence as graceful and composed as always. She was wearing a beautiful silk blouse in shades of soft jade, with her posture upright and regal despite her old age. Your Ah Ma’s presence immediately shifted the atmosphere in the room, dissolving the lingering tension.
Everyone rose to their feet, a chorus of respectful greetings filling the space. You and Lando followed closely behind Nick and Rachel as you walked toward her, hand firmly clasping Lando’s.
Your Ah Ma’s face lit up when her gaze fell on Lando. “Ah, Lan Lan!” she exclaimed, voice warm and filled with genuine affection. “I’m happy to see you again. Tell me, has your dumpling folding improved since the last time?”
Lando smiled, bowing his head slightly in respect. “I think so, Ah Ma,” he replied, voice steady but tinged with amusement. “But you’ll have to judge for yourself.”
Nick stepped forward, taking your Ah Ma’s arm gently, and you mirrored his action on her other side. Her smile widened as she turned to Nick, patting his hand affectionately. “我很高興你帶瑞秋來了.” (i’m so glad you brought rachel) she said, voice kind but observant.
Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes landed on Rachel, who stood politely beside Nick. She scrutinized her face for a moment, her expression contemplative before breaking into a small smile. “在白天,我可以清楚地看到她。 非常漂亮的臉蛋.” (ah, in the daylight, i can see her clearly. very nice-looking face)
Rachel’s lips parted slightly, unsure how to react, but she eventually nodded and smiled, choosing to take it as a compliment. “謝謝阿媽.” (thank you, ah ma) she said, in a respectful tone.
With Nick and you guiding her, your Ah Ma walked toward her seat at the head of the table. When you reached the chair, Lando quickly stepped forward, pulling it out for her with fluid motion. Your Ah Ma gave Lando an approving nod before settling into the seat, her movements deliberate but elegant.
Once your Ah Ma was seated, she gestured with a delicate wave of her hand. “坐下,你們所有人.” (sit down, all of you) she instructed, tone commanding but not harsh.
Oliver leaned back slightly and chimed in, tone light and teasing. “We’re almost finished, Ah Ma. Just a few more baskets left.”
“Good, good,” she said, a trace of satisfaction in her voice.
While your Ah Ma was observing everyone, her gaze swept over the trays of folded dumplings, her discerning eyes pausing on a particular set of dumplings that stood out. Without any hesitation, she gestured toward the batch and turned to your Auntie Eleanor.
“埃莉諾,你做了這個批次嗎?” (eleanor, did you make this batch?) her tone was sharp, but not unkind.
You Auntie Eleanor straightened slightly, nodding with a subtle air of pride. “是的,阿媽,” (yes, ah ma) she replied, voice composed but tinged with a hint of accomplishment.
Your Ah Ma’s eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned in for a closer look, inspecting the dumplings with the same scrutiny she might give to a priceless piece of jade. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and she tilted her head, her words carrying a weight of blunt honesty.
”他們看起來不太好,” (they don’t look very good) she remarked, tone in a matter-of-fact but leaving little room for dispute. “你失去了你的觸摸,埃莉諾.” (you’ve lost your touch, eleanor)
The room seemed to pause momentarily, the faintest ripple of tension spreading across the table. You glanced at Rachel, who sat stiffly, her expression carefully neutral, clearly unsure how to react to the sudden critique.
You turned to Lando, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity, leaning slightly toward you as he whispered, “what did Ah Ma say?”
Lowering your voice, you translated quickly but gently, “Ah Ma said the dumplings don’t look good, and that Auntie Eleanor has lost her touch.”
Lando made a face, and though he made no comment, the slight twitch of his lips suggested he was trying not to laugh. You gave him a soft nudge under the table, silently reminding him to keep a straight face.
Even with your Ah Ma’s comment, your Auntie Eleanor maintained her composure, her lips tightening as she focused on folding another dumpling, pretending as though the comment did not bother her at all. But still, you knew that everyone at the table heard everything, and no one was really surprised by your Ah Ma’s brutal honesty.
As the final dumplings were folded and placed neatly into the bamboo steamers, Rachel excused herself, standing from her seat with a polite smile. “I’m just going to the restroom,” she said softly, tone light.
Nick immediately offered, “I'll come with you.”
Rachel just shook her head gently, declining with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, I can find my way.”
With that, she turned and walked off, navigating through the hallways of the estate, leaving the rest of you to finish arranging the trays.
Meanwhile, your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes scanned the remaining dumplings, her attention landing on the ones Lando had folded. Despite her age, her vision remained sharp as ever, and she leaned forward slightly, inspecting his work. A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“這些很漂亮,” (these are beautiful) she said, nodding approvingly.
Lando lit up at the compliment—well, he didn’t really understand what your Ah Ma had said, but based on her reaction, it’s a positive one. His cheeks colored faintly as he looked at you for a moment, seeking your silent confirmation that he had done well.
Your Ah Ma then turned to you, tone warm but firm as she continued, “你教他很好,我的孫女。 我可以看到他爲此付出的努力。 你跟他幹得真不錯.” (you’ve taught him well, my granddaughter. I can see the effort he’s put into these. you really did a good job with him)
You smiled, bowing your head slightly in acknowledgment of her praise, but before you could respond, her attention shifted back to Lando. Your Ah Ma’s expression softened, yet her words carried a note of earnestness.
“Lan Lan,” she began, “好好照顧自己,好好吃飯,” (take care of yourself, eat properly) she spoke slowly enough that he could understand the weight of her words even if he did not catch every meaning of it.
Your Ah Ma paused, gaze flicking back to you for a moment, before continuing. “I remember when my granddaughter came back here to Singapore after being in Monaco. She was so worried about you.”
Then she turned again to Lando, tone shifting slightly to a mock-scolding one, though her affection for him was evident. “She told me how you hadn’t slept for twenty-six hours and were eating expired food. How can you not take care of yourself?”
Lando ducked his head slightly, his smile sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks.
Switching to Mandarin, she fired rapidly at Lando, though there was no malice in her tone. “你認爲僅僅因爲你年輕,你的身體會原諒一切嗎? 不會的 你很幸運,我的孫女飛到摩納哥爲你做飯.” (you think just because you’re young, your body will forgive everything? it won’t. you’re lucky my granddaughter flew to to monaco to cook for you)
You were trying not to laugh as you translated everything your Ah Ma said to him, and Lando nodded earnestly, voice quiet but sincere. “I know, Ah Ma. I’ve learned my lesson.”
Your Ah Ma turned to you with a knowing smile. “我什麼時候能指望你結婚?” (when can i expect you to get married?)
You froze on your seat, eyes widening in disbelief as he words hung in the air. You felt Lando’s hand tense slightly in yours under the table, though you were sure he hadn’t understood any of it.
“我想在我死之前見到我的曾孫們。 我已經沒有多少年時間了.” (i want to see my great-grandchildren before i die. i don’t have that many years left) your Ah Ma continued.
The room erupted into laughter at your Ah Ma’s bluntness, a mix of amused chuckles and good-natured teasing. Even your mother, who rarely join on such jokes, could not help but wink at you across the table.
“Ah Ma,” you began, swallowing hard, trying to find the right words to appease her. “蘭多和我還年輕。 他有一個非常忙碌的職業生涯,我們現在都專注於我們的目標.” (lando and i are still young. he has a very busy career, and we’re both focused on our goals right now)
“太年輕了? 胡說八道! 你們兩個都老了,有什麼目標? 家庭是人生最重要的目標,” (too young? nonsense! you’re both old enough, and what goals? a family is the most important goal in life) she retorted, waving her hand in the air as if brushing aside your excuses.
She leaned slightly forward, her gaze fixed on Lando now, as if silently willing him to understand what she was saying. “我走之前要抱着我的曾孫,” (i need to hold my great-grandchild before i go) she reiterated, as though her insistence alone could make it happen.
Lando, who had been smiling politely, began to glance around the table, sensing that the laughter was at his expense but unable to piece together what was being said.
“What’s going on? What did Ah Ma say?” he said, leaning towards you.
Before you could think of a way to downplay it, Nick—ever the troublemaker, grinned wickedly and leaned over. “Oh, I’ll tell you,” he said, just loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Ah Ma’s asking when you’re getting married. She wants great-grandchildren before she dies.”
His jaw dropped slightly at what Nick said, cheeks already tinged pink. “What?” Lando stammered, glancing at you for confrontation.
The laughter just grew louder as Nick continued, “she’s serious too. She’s already planning your family timeline.”
You groaned inwardly, shooting Nick a sharp look that only made him smirk wider. Meanwhile, Lando’s blush deepend, spreading across his ear and down to his neck. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, and lips twitching into an embarrassed smile.
“I…uh…” he stuttered, clearly flustered, and you couldn’t help but smile despite the situation.
You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, leaning closer to whisper, “don’t worry, she just likes to tease. You’re doing great.”
Your Ah Ma smiled warmly at Lando, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening with the kind of affection reserved for those who had truly earned it. She placed her hands gently on the edge of the table, her gaze shifting between you and him as she began to speak again in Mandarin.
“我愛你這個年輕人,” (i love this young man for you) she said, tone resolute yet tender. “我等不及你們倆結婚的那一天了。 當然,這必須在我死之前發生,但沒有壓力.” (i cannot wait for the day you both get married. of course, this must happen before i die, but no pressure)
The table chuckled softly at her words, though you could feel the weight of her underlying sincerity.
“我希望你們的關係最終會導致婚姻。 它必須,我很高興是他。 我認識你以前約會過的所有男孩,但沒有你介紹他們給我,” (i expect your relationship will lead to marriage in the end. it must, and I’m glad it’s him. i knew all the boys you dated before without you introducing them to me) she continued, tone sharpening lightly as she referred to your past. “他們都不值得。 蘭多是。 他是個好人,是個紳士。 我看得出他讓你多麼高興.” (none of them were worthy. but lando is. he is a good man and a gentleman. i can see how happy he makes you)
Her gaze lingered on Lando, eyes bright with approval. “你選的不錯,” (you chose well) she said firmly, her words almost carrying the weight of a blessing.
You glanced at your mother, who was watching the exchange quietly with a soft smile. When your eyes met, she gave you a small nod, as if to echo your Ah Ma’s sentiments. Your heart swelled, knowing that this was not just about Lando being accepted by your family, it was about him being fully embraced in a way that rarely happened in a family as traditional as yours.
“我們的家庭一直重視傳統的重要性,在我們自己的背景,我們自己的文化中結婚。 這就是讓我們堅強的原因。 但有時,當心髒看到什麼是正確的時,必須做出例外.” (our family has always valued the importance of tradition, of marrying within our own background, our own culture. it is what keeps us strong. but sometimes, exceptions must be made when the heart sees what is right) your Ah Ma’s eyes softened further as she looked at you. “你已經看到了什麼是正確的。 我相信你的選擇。 他會給你帶來快樂,你也會給他帶來同樣的快樂.” (and you have seen what’s right. i trust your choice. he will bring you happiness, and you will bring him the same)
Lando, though unable to follow the Mandarin, seemed to understand the atmosphere and the sentiment. He offered a polite smile, his hand tightening slightly around yours under the table.
“你知道,你是第一個正式向我介紹這樣一個人的人。 這不是一件小事。 它表明了對我們家庭的尊重,它表明你是認真的.” (you know, you are the first to formally introduce someone to me like this. it is no small thing. it shows respect for our family, and it shows me that you are serious) she paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “這就是爲什麼我相信這將工作。 你有我的祝福.” (that is why I trust this will work. you have my blessing)
You felt a lump in your throat as you glanced again at your mother, who was still smiling softly. There was no need for words, her expression said it all. The weight of family approval—especially your Ah Ma’s, was very significant. It was not just about you and Lando anymore, it was about the life you were building together, one that your family wholeheartedly supported.
You turned to Lando and gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hand, a private gesture of reassurance for him. Though he could not understand the exact words, you knew he felt the love and acceptance in the room, just as deeply as you did.
While everyone was now immersed in a new topic of conversation, you can’t help but notice that Rachel was taking longer than usual. Rachel hasn’t gone back yet, the same as your Auntie Eleanor. Just before your Ah Ma would say his monologue about family tradition, your Auntie Eleanor had excused herself.
You glanced at the door Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor had exited through earlier, your eyes narrowed slightly in concern. This was a sprawling estate, one where getting turned around was almost inevitable for someone unfamiliar with its labyrinth of hallways and grand rooms. You couldn’t shake the sense that something was amiss.
Minutes passed. Neither Rachel nor your Auntie Eleanor had returned. Your unease deepened. So you leaned slightly toward Lando, your voice low enough not to disrupt the ongoing chatter around the table.
“I think I’ll go check on Rachel,” you murmured. “She’s taking a little too long, and Auntie Eleanor too.”
Lando nodded, his eyes flickering with slight concern. “You think everything’s okay?”
“Well, I’m not sure,” you replied. “But I’ll find out.”
You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, the faintest smile touching your lips despite the worry now bubbling beneath the surface. Straightening up, you excused yourself from the table, smoothing down your dress with a quick, practiced motion.
As you step away, the chatter behind you fades, replaced by the muted hum of distant sounds in the house, the faint clatter of dishes being cleared in the kitchen, soft shuffle of footsteps from maids moving about their duties.
You moved quietly, your steps deliberate as you followed the path Rachel had taken earlier. You knew this house like the back of your hand, each twist and turn etched into your memory, but even for you, it was easy to imagine how someone so unfamiliar might lose their way.
Your eyes scanned the hallways as you moved, the ornate decorations and rich furnishings familiar yet suddenly feeling imposing in the quiet. You still could not shake the thought that perhaps your Auntie Eleanor had cornered Rachel somewhere in the house, and the idea made your pace quicken.
The moment you approached the grand staircase, you approached quietly, you heard voices and stopped just short of the landing, hiding yourself out of sight behind the very heavy drapery of a nearby window. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on other people, but your concern for Rachel overpowered the voice of reason.
Peeking through the fabric, you saw them. Your Auntie Eleanor stood on the top step of the staircase, her posture sharp and commanding, while Rachel stood two steps below her, visibly uneasy. The height difference only seemed to amplify the imbalance in their dynamic—your Auntie Eleanor looking every bit like a hawk, and Rachel was the unwitting prey.
“I’m glad I found you,” your Auntie Eleanor began, voice low and calm, but laced with a kind of weight that felt impossible to ignore. “I felt…perhaps I was unfair to you earlier.”
Rachel immediately shook her head, her voice soft but apologetic. “No, no, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to offend you, and I’m really sorry if I did.”
“You didn’t offend me, Rachel,” she said quietly, almost too quietly, as though she were weighing each word before releasing it. “But since we’re already here, I feel it’s only fair to share something with you. Something that I don’t often talk about.”
“Alright,” Rachel said, voice barely above whisper.
“The emerald ring,” she began, lifting her hand slightly to glance at the emerald on her finger, “had been customized by my husband, Philip, because Ah Ma didn’t want to give him the family ring.”
“She…refused?” Rachel was clearly surprised.
Your Auntie Eleanor gave a small, humorless smile, the corner of her lips barely turning upward. “She didn’t think I was worthy of it. Didn’t think I was worthy of Philip.”
At that, you felt your breath catch. This was new information, something you had never heard before. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them, even as guilt tugged at you for listening in.
“Why would she think that?” Rachel’s voice was cautious, tentative.
Your Auntie Eleanor’s expression hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Because I didn’t come from the right family. I didn’t have the proper connections, and I was not what Ah Ma envisioned for his eldest son. To her, I was inadequate. Not a suitable wife for the future head of the family.”
Rachel looked stunned, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “I…I didn’t know.”
“No, of course, you wouldn’t,” she said softly. “It’s not the kind of thing people would discuss so openly, and why would they? It’s already humiliating to admit that you weren’t the first choice.”
Rachel’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out of her mouth.
“I wasn’t even the second choice. You’re Ah Ma wanted someone else entirely, someone from a family with status and wealth that matched ours. But Philip, he chose me.”
From your hiding spot, you could see the faint sheer in your Auntie Eleanor’s eyes, though her expression remained resolute. You felt your stomach tighten. This was far more personal than the surface-level gossip you and your mother often indulge in about your Auntie Eleanor.
Rachel seemed to struggle to find the right response. “I think that’s very brave of you, to have gone through that.”
“Brave?” she echoed, almost as though testing the word on her tongue. “Perhaps, or perhaps I simply had no choice but to endure it. That’s what women like me are expected to do. Endure. Sometimes, there were days when I wondered if I would ever measure up.”
Another pause filled the air, heavy and suffocating. You glanced back toward the hallway that leads to the dining room, where laughter and conversation continued, oblivious to the tension unfolding right outside.
Your Auntie Eleanor looked down at Rachel, her tone softening just slightly. “I don’t say this to make you uncomfortable, Rachel. I say it because you remind me of someone I once was, a young woman trying to find her place in a family with traditions that can feel suffocating at times. But here’s the thing.”
“To belong here,” your Auntie Eleanor said quietly, “you must learn when to bend and when to stand firm, and above all, you must understand that family will always come first before passion, before dreams. It’s not easy, but it’s the way it is.”
Her words lingered in the air, cutting deeper than anything you had expected. You tightened your grip on the drapery, heart thudding in your chest.
“But Rachel,” she said softly, almost gently, as she took a slow step closer to her. “Having been through it all myself, I can tell you this much…you will never be enough.”
The words hung in the air, deceptively gently, yet sharp enough to pierce. Rachel was eviscerated, as your Auntie Eleanor draws back, placid and calm, as if they were talking about the weather. Her hand lightly touched Rachel’s arm, almost a contradictory gesture to the blow she had just delivered.
“We should head back, I wouldn’t want Nick to worry.” your Auntie Eleanor’s tone did not falter, nor did her gaze waver. She slowly began descending the stairs.
You’re still hidden—more like frozen in place. You watched as Rachel’s expression crumbled ever so slightly, her face a mixture of hurt and confusion, though she tried valiantly to hold her composure. You felt a pang in your chest for her, but before you could decide whether to step out, you felt a presence approaching from behind.
You turned your head quickly, startled to see Lando walking towards you. His lips were already parting, likely to ask what you were doing or what was taking you so long, but you reacted instinctively. You brought a finger to your lips in a sharp shushing motion, then darted towards him as quietly as possible, pressing a hand gently over his mouth before he could make a sound.
Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he obeyed your silent command, his wide eyes flickering between you and the staircase. You both froze as the unmistakable sound of your Auntie Eleanor’s heels began clicking rhythmically against the marble floor, growing louder with each step.
Peeking back around the corner just enough, your Auntie Eleanor was already headed your way, her expression calm and composed, never even looking back at Rachel, who remained standing frozen in place.
Without any second thought, you grabbed Lando’s hand firmly and began pulling him back down the hall, away from the grand staircase. His confusion deepened, but he did not resist, allowing you to guide him. You stopped just short of the door, turning to face him, you placed a hand on his chest and pressed a little to keep him from moving any further. Lando tilted his head slightly, silently asking for an explanation, but you shook your head.
“I’ll tell you everything later,” you whispered firmly, voice barely audible. “When we’re home.”
Lando frowned slightly but nodded in understanding, his gaze softening as he squeezed your hand gently. You exhaled, releasing the tension in your shoulders, and took a moment to steady yourself. Lacing your fingers together, you took one more deep breath, and walked back into the dining room with Lando by your side.
You plastered on a casual smile, even as your thoughts raced, determined to keep up the act for now.
Later that evening, you were now back to the safety and comfort of your home. You and Lando were now settled into the bed, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. Lando was lying on his back, one arm tucked under his head, while his other arm rested lightly on your arm. The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his face as you propped yourself up on your elbow, taking a deep breath before speaking.
“Okay, here’s the tea,” you began softly, keeping your voice low in the stillness of the room.
Lando turned his head to look at you, his brows knitting slightly. “What’s the tea?”
You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before recounting everything you had overheard between Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor by the grand staircase. You spoke carefully, detailing the conversation, voice growing more serious as you described your Auntie Eleanor’s sharp words, her admission about the family ring, and the way she had undermined Rachel. Lando listened intently, his gaze never leaving yours, expression shifting from concern to quiet disbelief as you continued.
“And then,” you said, voice dropping even lower, “she told Rachel she would never be enough. I just couldn’t believe it, honestly. It was so cruel.”
“That’s awful,” he said firmly. “I can’t imagine how Rachel must’ve felt when she heard that. She must’ve been gutted—no pun intended.”
You chuckled, then suddenly feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. “I wanted to step in, but I didn’t know how without actually making it worse. Then I saw you coming,” you paused, sighing. “I just don’t know how to fix it.”
Lando reached out, taking your hands in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “It’s not your fault,” he said reassuringly. “Your Auntie Eleanor has her own set of issues. But Rachel seems strong, I’m sure she’ll handle it.”
You nodded, though the worry lingered in your chest. “I just hope my whole family can be as welcoming to Rachel as they’ve been to you. She deserves that. Nick deserves that.”
“Your family has been incredible to me,” he said. “Your Ah Ma, your Mom, even your Auntie Alix, they’ve all made me feel like I belong, even though I’m not from the same background—traditionally, as you. That means everything to me. It’s rare to find that kind of acceptance.”
You felt your chest warm at his words. “I’m so happy they’ve accepted you,” you murmured. “It makes me love them even more, knowing they see how amazing you are.”
He chuckled lightly, ears turning red at your compliment. “Well,” Lando said, tone turning playful, “Ah Ma did say she expects a grandchild, so I guess I’m officially part of the family now.”
You laughed softly, then tension from the earlier conversation easing slightly. But as you rested your head against his chest, you whispered, “I just hope Rachel gets that chance too. To feel what we have with my family.”
Lando pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice gentle as he said, “she will, it might take time, but your family loves deeply. They’ll come around, and if not, well, Nick and Rachel would always have us. That’s a pretty good start, don’t you think?”
You nodded. “But hey,”
“Hmm?” he hummed, looking at the ceiling aimlessly.
“I was thinking,” you started, “tomorrow’s our last free day before Colin and Araminta’s wedding. I was wondering if it’s okay with you if I spend it with Rachel. I feel like she could use some company, and I’d love to catch up with her one-on-one.”
Lando’s lips curved into a small smile as he nodded. “Of course, love. You don’t need to ask, and I think that’s a great idea.”
“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I don’t want to leave you feeling bored or anything.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, take your time. I can keep myself busy.”
At that, you looked at him with curiosity. “Oh? What’s your plan for the day?”
Lando grinned, “actually, I was thinking of hitting up your Dad for a few rounds of golf. He told me during Ah Ma’s dinner party to let him know anytime I wanted to play, so I figured I’d take him up on that offer.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the thought of Lando and your father on the golf course together. “That sounds perfect. I think he’d love that.”
“It’ll be nice to spend some time with him, and,” he added with a playful grin, “it’ll give me a chance to show him I’ve been practicing my swing.”
You chuckled, “well, don’t let him win too easily, or else he’ll never let you live it down.”
Lando laughed along with you, then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Go spend the day with Rachel,” he said warmly. “I’ll be fine, and later, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”
“Deal,” you said with a grin.
The warm scent of roasted coffee filled the air as you and Rachel sat across from each other at the small patio table. The sunlight filtered gently through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the table between your cups of coffee. Rachel stirred her latte absentmindedly, her eyes occasionally drifting to the street beyond before meeting yours.
“I’m really glad you agreed to meet with me,” you began, voice steady but soft.
Rachel offered a small smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes. “Of course. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk after everything.”
You took a deep breath, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “I wanted to talk because I owe you an apology. For everything.”
She tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing. But she let you continue speaking.
“I’m sorry for how you were treated at the dinner party by my family,” you continued, gazing at her earnestly. “Especially by my Auntie Eleanor. I know she was cruel, and I won’t make any excuses for her just because she’s family. You didn’t deserve that.”
Rachel let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she leaned back in her chair. “Thank you for saying that, it truly means a lot.”
There was a brief pause before you added, “and I need to come clean about something.”
“I overheard everything Auntie Eleanor said to you by the staircase,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands for a moment before looking back at her. “It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, I swear. I was going to get something from the car, and I happened to pass by.”
She studied you for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Honestly, I’m not even surprised you overheard. She wasn’t exactly trying to whisper.”
You gave a small, rueful smile. “Still, I should have stepped in sooner. I hate that she made you feel the way you did.”
Rachel’s grip on her coffee cup tightened briefly before she let out a small, humorless laugh. “It was pretty intense, I’ve got to say,” she admitted. “I mean, I felt like I was going to cry and puke all at once.”
The two of you exchange a glance before breaking into laughter. The sound was a relief, breaking the lingering tension like the first warm breeze after a storm.
“Well,” you said. “I bet if you tell her that you’d leave Nick for a million of dollars, she’d write that check on the spot.”
Her eyes widened for a moment before she burst into laughter again, this time louder and freer. “You think so?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, grinning. “It’s a pretty normal thing to do here. A million-dollar breakup is just another Tuesday.”
Rachel shook her head, still laughing, and took a sip of her latte. “That’s terrible.”
“Maybe it is,” you smiled and shrugged. “But I know my Auntie Eleanor.”
She then set her coffee cup down, fingers fiddling with the edge of her napkin as her expression shifted something akin to serious.
“You know, I just…I don’t even know what to do anymore. Whether I will tell Nick everything or not,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I can see how much Nick practically worships his Mom. I mean, it’s like she can do no wrong in his eyes.”
You nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “I fully understand that,” you said carefully, tone gently. “It’s common, especially with Chinese sons. They hold their mothers on a very high pedestal, and it’s not just cultural, it’s ingrained, passed down through generations. Mothers are revered, respected almost to a fault.”
Rachel let out a small, defeated sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So what am I supposed to do? Compete with that?”
You shook your head, giving her a smile. “No, you don’t need to compete with anyone. Look, on the bright side of all things, Ah Ma loves you. Did you notice how she complimented you yesterday? That’s pretty big.”
Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought back, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “She did, didn’t she? I was not really sure what to make of it at first, but I guess that was her way of showing approval.”
“Exactly,” you said. “Let Auntie Eleanor stew in her own bitterness if she wants to. She can hate you all day long or even her whole life if that’s what she’s determined to do.”
“That’s…comforting?” she raised an eyebrow, her smile wavering.
“Just let Auntie Eleanor be, she has nothing against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.” you chuckled.
“What do you mean?” Rachel asked, intrigued but unsure.
You gestured gently with your hand, voice steady but light. “At the end of the day, it’s not really about Auntie Eleanor. It’s about what Ah Ma thinks, and in this family, her opinion carries the most weight, and she’s already decided that she likes you. Auntie Eleanor might throw tantrums and make her snide comments, but she can’t overturn the foundation of how this family works. What Ah Ma says, goes.”
Rachel sat back, her lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile. “So, you’re saying that I don’t need to fight back? Just let her do her thing?”
You nodded. “Exactly. She’s not the one you’re trying to win over, and frankly, she doesn’t hold the power she thinks she does. As long as Ah Ma’s around and on your side, you’re practically untouchable.”
“You make it sound so simple.” she let out a soft laugh, her tension finally easing.
“It’s not simple,” you admitted with a small shrug, “but it’s the truth. You’re a part of this family now, Rachel—whether they like it or not, and you’ve already got the most important ally you could ask for.”
Rachel’s smile grew warmer, and for the first time, she looked truly at ease. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed to hear that.”
The midday sun cast long shadows over the manicured fairways of Sentosa Golf Club. Lando steadied his swing, aiming for the flag ahead. Your father stood a few paces behind, watching his stance with an appraising eye. The gentle rustling of the trees and occasional chirping of birds provided the only background noise. Lando took the shot—clean, low drive that rolled smoothly onto the green.
“Good shot,” your father remarked, nodding in approval as they walked toward the cart together.
“Thank you,” Lando replied, brushing his hands against his shorts.
As they drove to the next hole, your father leaned back slightly, gaze fixed ahead. “So, Lando,” your father began, his tone casual. “What are your plans?”
Lando glanced at him, slightly startled by the abruptness of the question. “Plans, sir? You mean with golf? Or…generally?”
Your father chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, no. Not with golf, I meant your plans for the future. It’s a broad question, I know, but I’m curious.”
He straightened. “Oh, well…I’m focused on my career right now, of course. Racing tends to keep me pretty busy, but I try to balance things as best as I can.”
Your father nodded as they both stepped out of the cart. He let a few moments pass before continuing, voice taking on a more serious tone. “When my wife came back from her mother’s estate last night, she mentioned something to me over dinner.”
Lando tilted his head, curious. “What is it?”
“She said that Ah Ma gave you and my daughter her approval,” your father said, eyes steady on Lando. “Ah Ma hopes your relationship will end in marriage someday.”
Lando blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the statement, or just how straightforward your father is. He shifted his weight slightly, unsure of how to respond to your father.
Your father, noticing his hesitation, offered a small smile. “Don’t worry, Lando. I’m not here to pressure or scare you away. But I thought it might be important for you to understand something about how everything goes on around here.”
“In our culture,” your father explained as he placed the golf ball on the tee, “relationships are viewed differently than in the West. They’re not just about love or companionship, they’re built on sacrifice, duty, and responsibility. When you commit to someone, you’re committing to the entirety of it all—even to the family. It’s a partnership that demands effort and selflessness.”
“Now,” your father took his shot—a smooth, powerful drive that sent the ball soaring down the fairway. He straightened and turned back to Lando, resting the driver on his shoulder. “I’m not saying this to intimidate you. It’s far from it. I know how much my daughter cares for you, and from what I’ve seen, you care for her just as much. But I want to make sure you understand what this means to us—our family and her. It’s not just about dating or having fun. It’s about building a life together.”
Lando swallowed, feeling the weight of your father’s words. “I…I get that, sir. I really do, and I want you to know that I take our relationship seriously. She’s,” he paused, searching for the right words. “She’s the most important person in my life. I may not have everything figured out yet, but I’m fully committed to her. I want to make her happy and support her in every way I can.”
Your father studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good to hear, Lando. You’re a good man, and that’s all I needed to know.”
Lando exhaled softly, relieved but still thoughtful. Your father clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s see if you can make this shot. I’m one up on you, and I don’t plan on losing today.”
”We’ll see about that, sir.” Lando grinned.
The two of them had just finished their round and were sitting in the shaded patio area of the clubhouse, sipping on cold drinks. Your father leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed.
“You know, back in her teens, she was quite the handful.” your father began, voice carrying an edge of humor.
Lando turned to him, intrigued but slightly nervous. “Oh?”
Your father nodded, a sly smile on his face. “She used to escape the house and date boys behind our backs. Thought she was clever about it too.”
Lando’s lips twitched into a smile, imagining you as a teenager, trying to outsmart your parents. “Really? I can’t imagine her sneaking around like that.”
“Oh, she was good,” your father said, in a playful tone. “She never introduced us to those boys, but we always knew who they were. We made it our business to know. Still, we never made a fuss, we figured she’d grow out of it—and she did.”
He just smiles as your father tells these little snippets of anecdotes of your life that you had never told Lando before. Lando just kept silent, and continued listening to your father.
“So when she introduced you to us, we were shocked to be honest.” your father laughed, a deeper, more genuine sound. “It was the first time she brought someone home. That was our first indication that this was serious, different from anything she’d had before.”
“To tell you the truth,” your father continued, tone shifting to something more reflective. “We always thought she’d end up seriously dating one of the sons from our family’s business partners, since that’s how these things tend to go. But looking at it now, we’re thankful that it’s you.”
Lando blinked, caught off guard. “Thankful? Why’s that?”
Your father leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Because those boys, they have big, fragile egos. Pampered from birth, they’ve never had to work for anything, and never had to learn humility. Trust me, there’s nothing worse than a man who can’t admit his faults.” he looked at Lando meaningfully. “You’re nothing like that, you’ve worked hard for everything you’ve achieved. You respect her, and that means a lot to us.”
“Thank you, sir.” Lando replied as he felt a warmth spread through his chest. “That really means a lot to me.”
Your father nodded, a small but approving smile on his face. “Just don’t let her outplay you on the course of life, Lando. She might be silent and reserved most of the time, but she’s competitive.”
Lando laughed. “Oh, I know. She’s already winning in a lot of ways.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” your father regarded him for a moment, then smiled. “Now, shall we see if they have any dessert worth trying here? Golf always leaves me craving something sweet.”
“Sounds good to me, sir.” Lando chuckled.
The house was still dark when you arrived, a quiet stillness greeting you as you set your things down and flicked on the lights. After slipping into more comfortable clothes—a loose white shirt and soft shorts, you made your way to the kitchen.
You had informed Lando earlier that you had decided it would be steak night, so you tied your back and opened the fridge, pulling out the steak to defrost, then setting them on the counter before gathering ingredients for the side dishes. You peeled and chopped the potatoes, boiling them in a pot of salted water, and then turned your attention to the vegetables.
Then you sliced the carrots, zucchini, and bell peppers—the rhythm of chopping and preparing was soothing, you then drizzled them with olive oil, sprinkled them with salt and pepper, then slid the tray into the oven to roast.
By the time the vegetables were roasting and the potatoes were soft, the steaks were now finally defrosted. You began to season them generously with salt, pepper, and a hint of garlic powder, then heated a cast-iron skillet until it was searing hot. The steaks sizzled as they hit the pan, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of cooking meat.
While the steaks rested, you drained the potatoes and mashed them with butter, cream, and a touch of garlic. The creamy texture was perfect, and you set the pot aside before arranging everything on the plate.
Tonight, you wanted to dine outside by the pool deck, where the view of the city lights was nothing short of magical. Grabbing a couple stacks of plates and utensils, you stepped out to the deck and set the table. The air was cool, and the glow from the pool lights danced against the walls, creating a cozy ambiance.
Just as you returned to the kitchen to plate the food, you felt an arm wrapped around your waist and a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. Startled, you spun around to see Lando smiling down at you, hair slightly mussed from the day.
“You scared me!” you said with a laugh, leaning up to kiss him on the lips.
“Sorry,” he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “It smells amazing in here.”
“So, how was your day with Dad?” you asked smiling, brushing a hand over his arm.
“It was good,” he replied. “Tiring, but good. I think I held my own.”
You smiled at that and patted his chest gently. “Go change into something comfortable and grab a bottle of wine from the rack, we’re eating outside by the pool deck.”
“On it,” Lando said with a quick kiss to your temple before heading off to the bedroom.
You carried the plated food out to the pool deck, setting it down on the table. The city lights twinkled in the distance as you adjusted the chairs and smoothed the tablecloth. Lando soon joined you, a bottle of red wine in hand, dressed in a simple shirt and joggers.
“That looks incredible, love.” he said as he set the wine down and pulled out a chair for you.
“Why thank you,” you smiled, settling in on the chair. “Let’s eat.”
As the two of you began eating, the sound of clinking utensils and the occasional splash of water from the pool filled the serene evening air. You cut into your steak and took a bite before glancing at Lando, who was pouring wine into both of your glasses.
“So, as promised,” you began, setting your form down for a moment. “I wanted to tell you about the conversation that I had with Rachel earlier when I met up with her.”
Lando looked up from his glass, giving you his full attention. “Yeah? How did it go by the way, how’s she holding up?”
”She’s trying, but she’s still shaken from what happened with Auntie Eleanor.” you replied. “She told me that she finds it hard to tell Nick everything because Nicky practically worships her Mom, because well, that’s how Chinese sons are—they think their Moms fart Chanel No.5.”
He froze for a moment, processing what you said, and then burst into laughter. Lando set down his wine glass as he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.
“That’s such an oddly specific comparison, babe. But honestly,” Lando said through his laughter, “it’s kind of perfect. I admit that at times, I notice that’s how Nick acts around Auntie Eleanor, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” you confirmed as you took another bite of your steam. “Rachel feels like Nick would never fully stand up to his mother and I get why she’s worried. But I explained to her how Auntie Eleanor is basically defenseless against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.”
“Filial piety?” Lando repeated, brows furrowing slightly.
You took a sip of wine, then set the glass down carefully before explaining. “It’s this concept in Chinese culture that emphasizes respect, obedience, and care for your parents and elders.” you continued, “it’s not just about being polite, it’s deeply rooted in our traditions and values. Sons, in particular, are expected to honor their mothers in every way possible. That’s why it sometimes feels like their Moms can do no wrong.”
Lando nodded slowly, taking in your words. “So it’s more than just a family dynamic—it’s cultural, like a duty?”
“Exactly,” you said with a small smile. “It’s why Rachel feels the way she does, but I told her that she shouldn’t worry too much. Ah Ma has taken a liking on her, and that’s already a gold sign. Auntie Eleanor might act high and mighty, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t really have a say in Ah Ma’s decisions.”
“Basically, you’re saying that Auntie Eleanor has no powers here?” he tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully.
“Not over Ah Ma, no. Hell no,” you said, chuckling. “And honestly, I think it’s about time someone stood up to Auntie Eleanor. Rachel is strong, even if she doesn’t always realize it, Nick and her will be fine. It’s just a matter of time she finds her own footing and Nick learning to balance his loyalty to Auntie Eleanor with his commitment to Rachel.”
Lando chuckled softly, raising his wine glass. “Well, here’s to Rachel and Nick figuring it out, and to Ah Ma—who clearly runs the show.”
You clink your wine glass against Lando’s with a grin. “Family is really fucking complicated, but hey, cheers to that.”
When Lando finished the last bite of his steak, he set his fork down with a satisfied sigh. “Speaking of Ah ma,” he began, swirling his wine glass, “you Dad told me something very interesting stuff today.”
You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What did he say?”
Lando smiled, leaning back in his chair. “He mentioned how he knew that Ah Ma already gave us her blessing and that she’s expecting this relationship to end up in marriage.”
You froze mid-bite, fork hovering above your plate. “Wait,” you said slowly, “did Dad give you the talk?”
His grin widened, and before he could even answer, you groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Oh my fucking god, that’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled, voice muffled.
“It wasn’t bad,” Lando said laughing. “He was just laying it all out on me. Talking about how serious relationships are in your culture and how family values commitment. Honestly, I kind of expected it.”
You peaked through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Still,” you muttered, “he didn’t have to do that.”
Lando leaned forward, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, but that’s not all he told me.”
Your hands dropped from your face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What else did he say?”
He smirked. “Apparently, back then you had a rebellious streak. Sneaking out to go on dates with different boys, huh?”
You groaned, slumping back in your chair. “Nooo. He did not tell you that.”
“Oh, he did,” Lando teased, clearly enjoying himself. “And he said that they knew exactly who those boys were because they were keeping track.”
Your head dropped to the table with a dramatic thud. “Why does Dad always have the need to air my embarrassing phase like that,” you said, voice muffled against the table.
Lando laughed. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” he reassured you.
Lifting your head, you frowned at him, still mortified. “Okay, but in my defense, I always had a feeling that they knew. Especially dad. I wasn’t exactly completely sure, you know? But now…” you sighed, gesturing at him. “Now I know that they know. Great.”
He reached across the table, fingers brushing against yours. “Is that why none of those boys ever made it past your family’s front door?”
“Yup,” you said, nodding. “Not a single one got far enough to meet my parents, I couldn’t really stand the thought of introducing someone who didn’t actually care about me at all.”
You continued, leaning back in your chair. “Along the way, I realized that they only wanted to be with me because of my family. They saw me as some kind of tool…I guess. Like being with me would give them status, connections, or some kind of benefit.”
Lando’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. “I can imagine how tough it must’ve been.”
“I know,” you admitted. “I just wanted genuine connections, but they just saw me as an opportunity. So, before things got messy, I was always the one who ended it first. That’s why none of them ever got through the door of my parent’s house, or let alone set foot on our estate. They weren’t worth it at all.”
Lando reached across the table, hand covering yours. “Well, for the record, I’m glad your Dad approves of me, and I hope I’ve made it clear that I’m here because of you, not anything else.” he then added, “I do hope that I’ve done a better job at proving I’m not one of those boys.”
You smiled, finger tightening around his. “You’re not even close. You’re nothing like them, Lan. You’ve made it more clear, that’s why you’re here now.”
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the delicate fabric of your gown. The gown was breathtaking, every inch was meticulously crafted by Giambattista Valli himself. The subtle shimmer in the fabric caught the light as you moved, and you smiled, tracing your fingers over the discreet initials that had been embroidered near the hem—a personal touch that made the gown uniquely yours. Lando’s suit complemented you perfectly, a sharp, tailored masterpiece with matching initials of his name on the inner lapel.
Lando adjusted the cuffs on his crisp white dress shirt but fumbled slightly with the cuff links. Noticing his struggle, you stepped in closer, gently taking the cuff links from his hands.
“Here, babe, let me,” you said softly, deftly fastening the sleek gold links.
His eyes met yours, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, love. You always know how to save me, huh.”
“You’d manage eventually,” you replied with a teasing smile, your fingers lingering for a moment on his wrist. “But we can’t afford to be late.”
Just as you finished, a soft chime from your phone notified you of the arrival of the car. “The car's here,” you said, stepping back to grab your clutch.
Lando picked up his jacket, slipping it on before crossing the room to you. “Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.
“Ready,” you confirmed, taking his arm as he led you to the door.
The car was waiting at the entrance, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. The chauffeur quickly stepped out, opening the door for you, and Lando helped you down the small steps, his hand steady at your back as you navigated the delicate heels you were wearing. He opened the car door, his free hand gently resting on yours as you lowered yourself into the plush interior.
“Careful,” he murmured, making sure you were settled before following after you.
Once he was seated beside you, the car pulled smoothly away, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. You glanced at the matching embroidery on your outfits, a quiet sense of anticipation washing over you as you looked ahead to the day’s events.
The car slowed to a stop in front of the First Methodist Church, the scene outside was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and steady buzz of voices. There was a long line of luxury vehicles stretched down the street, each one spilling out more high-profile guests—foreign dignitaries, government leaders, business tycoons, and a studded lineup of Asia’s brightest stars.
Crowds outside were a sea of media personnel, their cameras aimed and ready to capture every moment of what deemed Singapore’s wedding of the century, akin to Royal Asian Wedding. The chauffeur stepped out and swiftly opened Lando’s door. He exited gracefully, buttoning his tailored suit jacket before turning to offer you a hand. You placed your hand in his, and helped you out of the car.
The moment you fully got out of the car, the flash of the cameras intensified, different photographers yelling questions and calling your names. You paused beside Lando, your arm loosely looped through his, both of you offering calm, poised expressions for the cameras.
“This is a lot,” Lando murmured under his breath, leaning closer so only you could hear.
“Welcome to Singapore’s media circus,” you replied quietly, managing a polite smile as you stood in place for a few more seconds.
The attention was relentless. A few reporters called out to Lando directly, asking for interviews or comments, their voices cutting through the crowd. He shook his head subtly, lifting a hand to politely decline as the two of you turned to make your way towards the church entrance.
You glided across the red carpet, your hand still resting lightly on Lando’s arm. As you approached the grand doors, the tall, ornate arches of the church loomed above, intricate carvings catching the light. The media frenzy continues behind you, but you maintain your composure.
Then, as you entered the threshold, a familiar face came into view, one that is so familiar with you—Francesca Shaw. She stood just off the side, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if assessing everyone in attendance. Her pristine gold dress was undoubtedly designer, her hair styled to perfection.
Your expression shifted instantly, a smile vanishing into a deadpan look. Francesca caught your gaze for a moment, her lips twitching as if she might say something, but your firm expression was enough to make her quickly redirect her attention to something, or rather someone else.
Lando noticed the brief exchange as you both walked past her. “Who’s that?” he asked, voice low but curious.
You glanced at him. “Francesca Shaw,” you replied simply, keeping your tone neutral.
He furrowed his brows. “Should I know who she is? Friend of yours?”
“Fuck no,” you answered quickly. “She was the one that’s responsible for the gutted fish in Rachel’s bed during Minty’s bachelorette party.”
Lando blinked, steps faltering for just a moment. “Wait, that’s her?!”
“Mm-hmm,” you confirmed, leading him further into the church. “Best to steer clear. Nothing good comes from her.”
He nodded, expression tightening slightly as he glanced back toward Francesca. “Noted.”
As you and Lando stepped into the main part of the church, the sheer opulence of the space struck you in awe. The vaulted ceilings were adorned with intricate gold details, and the air was filled with soft strains of a live string quartet stationed discreetly in one corner. Every surface seemed to glisten, whether from the polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, or the hundreds of white orchids cascading over every available surface. It was evident that no expense had been spared—the grandeur practically screamed wealth and power.
Lando’s eyes scanned the space as he whistled low, “this is extravagant.”
You smiled, leaning slightly closer to him as you whispered back, “wait until you see the reception. This is just the warm-up.”
You and Lando moved further into the church, where you caught sight of your family by one of the pews. Your mother stood alongside your Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, their presence commanding attention as they chatted with a group of equally polished society wives. It was a familiar tableau—your aunts all clustered together, forming an impenetrable circle of sharp eyes and even more sharper tongues.
Predictably, your Auntie Eleanor seemed to be critiquing the whole setup. She gestured subtly towards the floral arrangements, her expression a mix of disapproval and thinly veiled judgement. While your Auntie Jacqueline, ever the pragmatist, seemed to be nodding in agreement, and your mother maintained her usual composed smile, occasionally offering diplomatic comments.
You and Lando approached them briefly, exchanging polite greetings. Your mother’s smile softened when she saw you, and she leaned in to kiss your cheek.
“You look very lovely, my darling,” she said, before glancing at Lando and adding, “and the two of you together—perfection, as always!”
After a few moments of pleasantries, you had excused yourselves, knowing the four of them would stick together for the ceremony and be seated in the same pew.
You made your way to the second row, you noted that the first row had been reserved for the Khoos and Lees, with Colin and Araminta’s immediate families already seated. You scanned the room quickly but no sign of Rachel yet, though Nick was near the altar with Colin and the other groomsmen, laughing and chatting. You assumed Rachel must be somewhere nearby.
Upon reaching your seats, you and Lando slid into the second row, settling into the plush velvet cushions. Three rows behind you, your mother and aunts had taken their places, their polished presence unmistakable even without turning around.
You leaned towards Lando, lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “So, I heard from Auntie Alix,” you began, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, “that Colin and Minty’s family spent sixty-five million dollars on this wedding.”
Lando’s eyes widened slightly, though he managed to keep his expression neutral. “Sixty-five?” he repeated under his breath.
You nodded, biting back a laugh as you added, “and it made me laugh because I heard Auntie Jacqueline said, ‘we’re Methodists, forty million is our maximum budget for a wedding like this.’”
That was enough to make Lando chuckle softly and shake his head in disbelief. “Forty million is the maximum?” he echoed, tone incredulous but amused.
You grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping your voice low. “Apparently, anything above that is considered excessive—even by our standards.”
Then, you turned around discreetly in your seat to scan the church again, searching for Rachel. It didn’t take long to spot her, she had just arrived and was being greeted warmly by Oliver by the entrance. She moved with a quiet confidence, her luminous presence immediately drawing attention. Heads all turning as she walked past, captivated by the stunning dress she wore—a rich light blue that complimented her complexion perfectly and subtly shimmered in the light.
Your aunts, seated a few rows behind you, were visibly taken aback. Auntie Eleanor, who rarely displays much reaction, looked momentarily stunned, her usual sharp expression softening into one of unguarded surprise. Your Auntie Alix leaned closer to whisper something to her, and Auntie Jacqueline adjusted her posture, almost as if reevaluating Rachel in that moment.
Your mother, however, was all warmth. You could see her beaming brightly at Rachel, her smile filled with genuine approval. You knew immediately what she was thinking, she completely adored the dress and the elegance Rachel exuded.
But something else caught your attention. Rachel glanced towards the pew where your mother and aunts were seated, but she didn’t move towards them. It was obvious she had not been invited to sit with them. Likely, they had made some excuses about how their pew was full, even though you could see there was space.
Rachel hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the room for an empty seat. Without thinking twice, you raised your hand and waved her over, her eyes lighting up when she saw you, and she made her way towards you. When she reached you, you immediately stood up and pulled her into a warm hug.
“You look absolutely incredible,” you whispered, meaning every word. You stepped back slightly to admire the dress. “That color on you, it’s just so perfect.”
Rachel smiled, her cheeks flushing just slightly. “Thank you,” she replied softly, clearly touched by the compliment.
You gestured to the space beside you. “Come, come. Sit with us,” you said, nodding toward the pew. “There’s plenty of room here.”
She hesitated for only a second before accepting. “Thank you,” she said, voice genuine.
Rachel slid into the pew beside you, and you could feel a subtle sense of relief in her presence as she settled into the seat. Lando leaned over slightly to greet Rachel with a polite nod and warm smile, and exchanged a quick look with him, silently acknowledging how significant this small act of kindness was, especially considering the dynamics at play.
Then, the murmur of the crowd faded into silence as Colin, Nick, and the four other groomsmen made their entrance alongside the pastor. Together, they formed an impeccable picture of elegance and charm, with their perfectly tailored suits catching the soft glow of the church lights. They walked with synchronized strides, confident yet there’s a reverent air about them, like a dashing pack.
Your attention drifted to Rachel, seated beside you, and the way her expression softened when her eyes found Nick. You caught the subtle shift in her demeanor as their gazes locked, a quiet exchange of affection that needed no words. There was something magnetic about the way they looked at each other, as though the entire room fell away for just a brief moment.
A hush of anticipation swept over the congregation as Kina Grannis took the stage by the live string quartet. Her voice rose delicately, the familiar strains of I Can’t Help Falling in Love filled the whole church with a dreamy, romantic air. The melody was sweet and tender, it struck a chord deep within, making the atmosphere impossibly more magical.
Two tiny figures appeared at the entrance—adorable flower girls, their tiny hands clasping wicker baskets as they scattered delicate petals along the aisle. They moved in a choreographed sweetness, bright smiles stealing the hearts of everyone in the room.
Behind them, toddled an equally charming ring bearer, clutching the pillow with seriousness that belied his young age. Each careful step he took earned a quiet chuckle from the crowd, his determination clear as he reached the altar. Nick crouched slightly, taking the ring pillow from the boy, and the playful high-five exchanged between them drew a ripple of soft laughter and smiles.
There was a collective gasp echoing through the church. Water began to flow, a gentle cascade spilling onto the aisle, shimmering as it caught the light. It trickled in perfect harmony, creating a luminous, rippling path that stretched from the entrance to the altar. The sound of water intertwined with the stillness of the music, holding everyone in awe.
The lights dimmed suddenly, and the soft flicker of long delicate stems with glowing tips spread through the crowd like fireflies. One by one, everyone in the congregation reached for the stems and held it aloft, their glittery illumination casting a celestial over the church, all eyes turning towards the entrance.
A group of bridesmaids stood poised, holding beautifully decorated large fronds that veiled what could only be Araminta. Their positioning was precise, deliberate, and graceful. With a choreographed motion, the bridesmaids slowly lifted the fronds, revealing Araminta, standing right next to her father. The moment was breathtaking—she radiated an ethereal elegance that made her appear almost otherworldly.
Araminta held her father’s hand as she gracefully stepped out of her towering heels. The hushed audience barely had a chance to react before she stepped forward, placing her bare feet onto the watery aisle. The music resumed, delicate yet triumphant, as she began her slow, graceful walk.
The bridesmaids followed closely behind her, their steps echoing her elegance, as the congregation swayed their glittery lights in unison. It was a scene out of a dream, a river of light and water that guided Araminta towards her future. From your seat, you could see Colin at the altar, his composed demeanor wavered, expression softening as he took in the sight of Araminta, eyes glistening with unshed tears, emotion written plainly on his face.
You didn’t exactly know what came over you, but as you sat there in the church, watching Colin and Araminta exchange glances filled with love and anticipation, a thought took root inside your mind. The entire wedding, its grandeur, intimacy, and the sense of two people stepping into forever had stirred something within you. It was not a matter of envy or longing for the spectacle itself, but it was the way Colin looked at Araminta—the way she smiled back at him, and the unspoken promise that passed between them.
Perhaps, selfishly, you found yourself imagining that kind of future for yourself. Not just marriage for the sake of it, but a marriage with Lando. The idea settled gently, not as a plan or something to be rushed, but as a hope—a quiet wish for someday. Though it was still too early now, you both were at the top of your careers, still growing individually and as a couple. A year of dating was only the beginning, and there was no need to rush, but the seed of the thought was already there, talking with surprising ease.
It made you genuinely happy to see Colin and Araminta standing at the altar. You had been an observer of their relationship from the beginning, a silent witness to the small and significant moments that had brought them to this day.
Growing up, Colin had been a near-constant presence in your family’s life, a fixture at every gathering and celebration. He was practically an honorary member of your family, and it felt like he belonged there just as much as anyone else. You had seen how Colin pined for Araminta, how he had talked Nick’s ear off about her, recounting every detail of their interactions with the kind of fervor only someone deeply in love could manage. Nick had confided that much to you during your conversations over the years, shaking his head fondly at how his best friend could turn any discussion into one about Araminta.
Your relationship with Nick has always been different from that with your other cousins. Despite the age gap, there was a closeness there that came naturally. Unlike many of your other cousins, who were either too competitive or too caught up in their own bubbles, Nick had always been kind, grounded, and someone you can rely on. Growing up, you often found yourself gravitating towards him, trusting him in ways you could not with the others.
So, seeing Colin—Nick’s best friend, your family’s honorary member, now finally standing with Araminta, the woman he had loved for so long, felt like a full circle of something extraordinary. It made you believe in the kind of love that could weather time and challenges, the kind of love that could one day be yours with Lando.
The reception took place at Gardens by the Bay, where the Botanical Gardens had been transformed into a scene straight out of fairytales. It was utterly breathtaking—every detail meticulously designed to create an almost otherworldly atmosphere. The iconic supertrees stretched overhead, illuminated with soft lights that shimmered in sync with the music. A Chinese big band played softly, filling the air with a nostalgic charm, while fireworks erupted in bursts of vibrant color against the dark night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the festivities.
Colin and Araminta were having their first dance at the center of it all, moving effortlessly in harmony. The wedding party stood loosely circled around them, watching the moment in admiration. You stood close to Lando, his arms loosely draped around your waist, holding you gently but securely. Chest pressed against your back as he swayed with you to the rhythm of the music, a silent echo of the couple’s dance.
Lando leaned in closer, voice low and intimate as he said, “you know, I didn’t really get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look absolutely stunning today, baby.”
His words caught you slightly off guard, but the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten with warmth. Before you could respond, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, lingering just long enough for his breath to tickle your skin.
“And this dress,” he added, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder now, “it’s beautiful. But it doesn’t even come close to how insanely beautiful you are.”
Your heart raced as Lando shifted, tilting your face gently towards his. His lips captured yours in a kiss, slow and tender, yet filled with a quiet intensity that made the world around you momentarily dissolve. When Lando pulled back, his eyes met yours, a glint of affection and something deeper reflecting in the warm light of the supertrees.
When Colin and Araminta’s first dance came to an end, the band seamlessly transitioned to a lively and upbeat tune. The atmosphere shifted immediately, with laughter bubbling through the crowd, and Araminta, radiant and full of energy, already had an outfit change, began beckoning guests onto the dance floor.
“Come on, come on!” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “The party isn’t going to dance itself!”
You and Lando exchanged a quick glance, a shared look of amusement and anticipation. Without any single hesitation, he took your hand gently, lacing his fingers through yours.
“Let’s go,” he said, tone light and teasing.
“Lan, babe, I don’t really—” you began, hesitating slightly, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.
“You’re with me,” he assured, grinning reassuringly. “I won’t let you look awkward, I promise.”
The music pulsed through the whole garden, and the dance floor was quickly filling with guests, each one letting loose in the joyful chaos of the celebration, singing along with the band. You had never considered yourself much of a dancer, the thought of dancing always made you self-conscious. Your movements felt stiff and unnatural, and the fear of looking out of place usually kept you from even trying. But with Lando, it was different.
Lando kept a firm but gentle grip on your hand, spinning you lightly to the rhythm of Wo Yao Ni De Ai. His energy was very contagious, movements all natural and easy, and he guided you effortlessly, making sure you felt comfortable.
“Just follow my lead,” he said, voice steady over the music. “And don’t think about it too much.”
You did as he said, allowing yourself to let go of the self-consciousness. You focused on him, and only him—Lando’s playful smile, the way his hands steadied you, the warmth of his presence. Soon, the tension that you’re feeling in your body eased, and you found yourself laughing as you moved to the beat.
“I told you you'd be fine,” Lando said, voice filled with a playful confidence.
“I still think I look very ridiculous,” you replied, laughter spilling out.
“You look amazing,” he countered without missing a beat.
The two of you moved seamlessly among the crowd, completely immersed in the music and the moment. Lando twirled you under his arm, making you laugh again as you stumbled slightly, but his steady hands caught you before you could lose balance.
As the music reached its end, he pulled you in closer. Lando’s movements slowed, the lively rhythm fading into the background as his gaze locked with yours. There was an intensity in his eyes, a soft, unspoken emotion that made you breath catch. Without a word, he leaned in, lips capturing yours in a kiss—gentle, tender, and filled with quiet passion that seemed to echo everything unsaid between you.
When he pulled back, a small smile played on his lips. “See? You’re a natural,” he teased, tone soft and warm.
You just rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The music had picked up again, and without hesitation, you two returned to the rhythm of the night, dancing together with an ease and happiness that made the rest of the world fade away, leaving you and Lando in a little bubble that you made yourself.
As the party went on, you and Lando continued swaying to the rhythm of the music, letting the night carry you in its revelry. The energy of the party was contagious, and you both were determined to make the most of it. The crowd around you was lively, a series of laughter and chatter blending into the music.
Suddenly, someone bumped into you, jostling you slightly. Turning to see who it was, you found yourself face-to-face with Rachel, who was looking very upset, her expression disoriented and distressed as she weaved through the throng of dancing guests.
“Rachel?” you called out, instinctively reaching out to her, your brows furrowing with concern.
Lando gently let go of your hand, his expression mirroring yours. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.
Rachel, however, did not respond. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze darting around as if trying to find something, or someone. Her pace was erratic and quickened as she moved further into the crowd.
You were about to follow her when a piercing scream cut through the music, causing heads to turn. There was laughter and the unmistakable hum of a crowd gathering, phones were raised in unison, their screens glowing as guests pointed toward something, or someone hidden behind the bushes near the edge of the garden.
Your stomach dropped as you and Lando turned to see what the commotion was about. Emerging from the bushes was half-naked Bernard Tai, his shirt already gone and his pants barely clinging to his hips. His movements were chaotic, clearly drunk, and he pawed at Kitty Pong, who struggled to pull herself away.
Kitty, the girlfriend of your cousin Alistair, looked utterly mortified. Her dress was disheveled, and her face was flushed with shame as she desperately tried to cover herself. Bernard, oblivious to the humiliation that they are now facing and radiating off of Kitty, stumbles toward her again, but she shoves him back.
The crowd wasn’t really helping. Instead of intervening, they just stood there, laughing, and some guests outright pointing and jeering, others filming the entire scene as Kitty managed to pull her dress up and flee from the scene, heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she disappeared into the night.
You felt a mix of shock and disgust twist in your stomach, gaze flicking between the fleeing Kitty and the drunken Bernard, who was now slumped against a nearby table, seemingly unaware, or uncaring, of the chaos he had caused. At Colin and Araminta’s wedding, nonetheless.
Lando shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath.
Though your attention snapped back to Rachel. She had managed to stop briefly during the commotion, her body all stiff and face unreadable as she watched the scene unfold.
“Rachel!” you called again, but by the time you stepped forward, she was already gone, melting into the crowd and disappearing from view.
A few moments later, Nick came running toward you and Lando, face flushed and breathing uneven. “Have you guys seen Rachel?” he asked urgently, eyes scanning the crowd as though hoping she might reappear.
You glanced back toward the direction Rachel had gone, your worry mounting. “She was just here, but—”
“She already left, mate.” Lando finished, voice somber.
Nick looked around frantically, but it was clear he was too late. Rachel was already nowhere to be found, and whatever had just unfolded seemed to mark the abrupt descent of what had been.
As the night wound down, you and Lando decided it was time to call it a day. The events of the wedding had been unforgettable, but the exhaustion was starting to creep in. Knowing that you only had one day left in Singapore before flying to the UK for Christmas, you both set out to find Colin and Araminta to thank them properly.
After weaving through the remaining guests hand in hand, you finally spotted the newlyweds near the dance floor, glowing with happiness as they spoke to family and friends. When you approached, Colin was the first to notice, greeting you and Lando with a wide smile.
“Hey, you two! Having a good time?” Colin asked, tone warm and genuine.
“A very amazing time,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you so much for inviting us. This was truly the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to.”
“Absolutely,” Lando added, nodding. “It was really incredible. Congratulations again to both of you.”
Araminta beamed, her hands resting lightly on Colin’s arm. “Thank you so much for coming. It means the world to us to have you here.”
“Though we wish we could’ve stayed longer,” you said, “but we’re flying back to the UK the day after tomorrow to spend Christmas with Lan’s family.”
Araminta’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s very wonderful! But before you go, we absolutely need a picture together.”
She glanced around and quickly called over a photographer, waving him toward your small group. “We need a picture of the four of us,” she told the photographer with a laugh.
The photographer positioned all of you, and Colin gently placed a hand on Lando’s shoulder while Araminta stood beside you, her arm lightly around your waist. The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly.
“Wait, wait,” Araminta said after the photographer stepped away. “We need one on your phone too!”
You quickly pulled out your phone, handing it to her so she could take the picture. She directed Colin to pull in a little closer so you could all fit on the frame. This time, the pose was more casual, with everyone leaning in and smiling brightly.
After the pictures were taken, Colin suddenly chimed in. “Oh, by the way, Harrison mentioned the other day that you’re moving to Monaco soon?”
You nodded. “That’s the plan. Everything’s set to go in a few weeks.”
“Then we’ll probably see you in Monaco soon!” Araminta said with a smile. “We’ve got a few trips planned early next year.”
“Definitely! Let us know when you’re coming,” Lando said. “We’ll take you around and catch up.”
“For sure, man! Absolutely.” Colin replied, grinning wide.
You and Lando hugged Colin and Araminta goodbye, exchanging heartfelt well wishes for their honeymoon and married life ahead. As you turned to leave, Araminta gave your hand a quick squeeze.
“Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas!” she said happily.
“Merry Christmas!” you and Lando said in unison before heading off to find your mother.
Your mother was seated at a table, chatting animatedly with your Auntie Eleanor. When she saw you approach, she stood up and pulled you into a warm embrace.
“You two leaving already?” she asked, tone affectionate.
“We are,” you said softly. “But it was such a beautiful wedding. Everything was perfect.”
“I’m so glad you could be home,” she replied, smoothing a hand over your arm. “Have a safe flight to the UK, and please give my regards to Lando’s family.”
“We will,” you promised, hugging her tightly once more before stepping back. “Lando and I will be back for the New Year’s.”
Your mother stretched out her arms to Lando, giving him a hug. “Thank you for everything.”
“Take good care of her, okay?” your mother reminded, as she smiled at Lando kindly.
“Always,” Lando replied with quiet sincerity.
When you and Lando finally walked through the door of your home, a deep sense of relief washed over you both. The quiet was a stark contrast to the chaos of the day, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you finally slipped off your heels by the entryway. Lando stretched his arms over his head, letting a low groan before giving you a small smile.
“Fucking finally,” he said, voice filled with exhaustion but tinged with amusement. “Home sweet home. That was…something, huh.”
You nodded, placing your clutch by the glass table. “Eventful doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
After settling down on the couch, you pulled out your phone and sent Rachel a quick text:
Hey, Rachel. I hope you’re okay. If you need anything or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.
You stared at the screen for a few moments before putting the phone down. There was a lot on your mind, but Rachel’s well-being was at the top of the list right now. Lando was already seated, leaning back against the cushions with his tie undone and his jacket draped over the armrest. He turned to you with a tired grin.
“That’s got to be the most entertaining wedding reception I’ve ever been to. Not wild, exactly, but definitely eventful. I mean—” he gestured vaguely with his hands. “What even was that? Who are those people?”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You mean Bernard and Kitty?”
“Yeah.” Lando nodded.
You sighed deeply, not really knowing where to begin or how to start the conversation about Bernard and Kitty. “Bernard Tai is…well, where do I even fucking start with that guy? Let’s see…he’s the only son of Dato’ Tai Toh Lui and Carol Tai, an insanely wealthy family. The Tai Fortune is massive, and Bernad’s basically the heir to all of it. He’s a former classmate of Nick and Colin back in the day.”
“And?” Lando prompted, tilting his head.
“And he’s spoiled as fuck,” you said bluntly. “Like, obnoxiously spoiled. He’s been handed everything his entire life and spends his day burning through money on the most ridiculous shit. He lives for excess and has zero accountability for anything he does. Basically, to sum up all of it—he’s a walking disaster who somehow gets away with everything because of daddy’s money and his family’s influence.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by all of it. “Sounds like he’s a real charmer.”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s one way to put it.” you hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And then there’s Ms. Kitty Pong.”
“She’s Alistair’s girlfriend, right?” Lando asked, recalling her name from earlier.
“That’s ex-girlfriend now,” you corrected. “Kitty’s…a real piece of work. She used to be a soap opera star who decided to pivot into climbing the social ladder. She’s been trying, well, desperately, to get into the higher social circles here, but that’s not really going well for her.”
You continued, “most people look down on her because they see her as a gold-digger, and honestly, they’re not really wrong. She's always relying on people like Oliver or Corinna Ko-Tung—Fiona’s cousin, to help her navigate these circles.”
Lando frowned slightly. “And Bernard?”
“Not much better, honestly,” you shrugged. “Yes, he’s a part of our circle, but no one takes him seriously because he’s…well, Bernard. After tonight? Him and Kitty just cemented themselves as gossip fodder for weeks, maybe months. What they pulled tonight at Colin and Minty’s wedding reception is only going to add fuel to the fire. Kitty’s already seen as an outsider, and now, people have an excuse to talk, ridicule, and ostracize her even more.”
He let out a low whistle, leaning his head back against the couch. “That’s rough. But honestly, I don’t get why they thought this, of all nights, was the right time to make a scene.”
You exhaled sharply, the frustration you had been holding back starting to bubble up. “Exactly. Colin and Minty’s wedding was supposed to be their moment. They’ve worked so hard to make it perfect, and then Bernard and Kitty come along and turn it into…that.”
Lando reaches over, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t let them ruin it for you. The wedding was still beautiful, and Colin and Minty looked so happy. That’s what matters, right?”
You nodded slowly, trying to let go of your irritation. “Yeah, you’re right. It's just…makes me mad, you know? They deserved better than that.”
They did,” Lando agreed, voice soft. “But it’s already over now, and you can’t control what other people do. All you can do now is focus on the good parts of the day, and trust me, there were a lot of those.”
You smiled faintly, leaning into him. “Thanks for the reminder. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Lando pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”
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☆ yummy in my tummy ☆
requested by:
After reading the pretty boy fics, I got to ask: "How would the dorm leaders (and the rest if you want to write about them) react to being given food from the reader (who cooks and bakes god tier food) who is concerned for their wellbeing?" - anon Headcanons for Dorm Leaders with an s/o who loves to spoil them with delicious homemade meals, sweets and snacks. - anon Could I request something domestic? Housewardens with an s/o that cooks for them almost everyday? -anon
a/n I decided to combine these three requests! I'm not sure if there were anymore of the same variety, so if I missed it, I'm sorry T^T Gonna split this into three parts, so keep an eye out for the other two! I wanted to keep this vague, i didn’t mention any type of specific food, but make it known, i am craving tamales so badly
included: grim, all of heartslabyul and savanaclaw
tw none
Ramshackle <3
⋆ He eats your food every day. Your best customer is the one and only GRIM THE GREAT! Food always tastes good to this little guy, but food made by you? Top tier! Nothing could beat it (the overblot stones probably could) He’s a pain in your ass when you're cooking/baking, constantly trying to get a nibble from your ingredients. His hungry ass is just too impatient. After a long and hard day, all he wants is to lay back and eat some tuna and one of your sweet treats for dessert. It's the best way to end his day.
Heartslabyul <3
⋆ You see once you start cooking for them, you’re not going to stop. Cater and Ace make sure of it. They all love your cooking! They feel so loved and cared for with each dish you lovingly made for them. Does this contribute to their ever growing feelings for you?
⋆ Yes, yes it does.
⋆ Riddle was kinda on edge by it. Not because he thought you were a horrible cook, he’s tasted Ace’s cooking before, but because he didn’t understand the warm feeling in his chest. Riddle’s mother never cooked, instead she had chefs cook the blandest (healthy, she claimed) foods for them both. He’s never felt the warmth and comfort from a home cooked dish. Trey is an excellent cook, and even better baker, but it’s Trey. You were different, always had been to him. Riddle almost moaned at the taste of the different spices and flavors that exploded in his mouth. This boy has never tasted so many all at once. It was truly an eye opener. Riddle asks if you could teach him some recipes.
⋆ So relieved. Trey is just the epitome of a parent finally sitting down after a long day when you come to help in the kitchen or bring containers of food. Trey finds himself visiting you at Ramshackle more often, with the intention of learning or cooking with you. But ends up with you ushering him to sit down and you’ll be back with some fresh soup. He really does appreciate your presence, everything about you is so comforting and lively, so you making amazing food is an added bonus. Loves to learn about different foods from your world, even more so any type of pastry/sweet! Considers asking if you want to do a bake off, but decided not to, because he knew everyone would choose you. (he would do the same tbh)
⋆ If you didn’t have a magicam account dedicated to your cooking before, well now you do! Cater will take photos of every dish you made, going on a long rant on how this is the most delicious food he’s ever eaten. If you let him, he'll post pictures and videos of you cooking/baking on the account. The account is as comforting as your food. Ofc, he has tons and tons of photos and videos on his phone of you. Cater looks forwards to whatever you make, but is especially touched when you bake something that isn’t incredibly sweet or something entirely different then what you made the others. It makes him feel special.
⋆ Ace didn’t consider himself a picky eater, at least not until he ate your food! Boy will not leave you alone. He's constantly begging you to make him food and treats. Saying 'you just killed a poor starving boy, gootbye-' and just crashes onto you. Ace just really enjoys your cooking and he melts whenever you bring him food without him asking (begging). He’s the type of person to sit on the counter and talk while you’re busy doing things all around the kitchen. It briefly reminds him of his own childhood. It’s oddly domestic that it sikes him out for a moment. But then he glances at you and suddenly that feeling is replaced with a warm fluttering feeling in his chest. (don’t question the blush on his cheeks ofc)
⋆ Deuce isn’t one for taking photos but every thing you’ve ever made him has been instantly snapped and sent to his mom. (who loves knowing that her darling son is eating well) He’s not as obvious as Ace, but Deuce tries to slyly suggest that you make him more food. And of course, he’s more than willing to help. Again, unlike Ace who sits and talks, Deuce follows you around the kitchen like a duckling, patiently awaiting your orders. He wants to be helpful! Will gladly take anything out of the oven and carry any heavy materials. Will crash if you hold up a spoon for him to taste test. Isn’t this romantic? He asks himself as he shakily takes the spoon into his mouth. Omg, and if he sees you do your own taste test with the same spoon? Oh sevens, help you both.
Savanaclaw <3
⋆ Another group that doesn’t let you stop cooking/baking for them. But at least you have free access to a buttload of money and two very eager helpers (for very different reasons)
⋆ Leona isn’t a stranger to good, probably excellent, cooked meals. He’s a prince, duh. But when it’s a meal cooked by you? Everything that he’s eaten up til now is straight trash. Pride is one way to describe how he feels, quickly followed by smug. Of course, you’d dedicate your time and energy to cook him a meal. And of course, you poured your love into every step. He’ll eat practically anything you give him, though he will side eye the vegetables and discreetly give them to Ruggie. As for sweet things, he’s not a big fan of sweets. I feel like he’d like savory flavors, maybe a little bitter or maybe a little tart. Or perhaps something with subtle flavors but a hearty texture. I’m just speculating of course, so it’s always a hit or miss when it comes to baked goods with him. Though, don’t worry, nothing you make goes to waste. Ruggie is always ready to swoop in when needed. And as mentioned before, Leona knows ingredients can get spendy, so he’s more than willing to hand you his credit card.
⋆ Speaking of credit cards, Ruggie just always happens to be in the same vicinity when that black card hits your hands. Ruggie wouldn’t call himself the greatest chef, but he is resourceful. With everything you cook, Ruggie shows you how to get the most out of your ingredients. He even shows you some low-budget/free ingredients you can find all over campus and how to make it. Ruggie is honestly a good person to have by your side when it comes to cooking, you learn plenty of new things and you get to share your own knowledge to someone you know will share with others. However, Ruggie isn’t someone that does something for free. So he expects to be taking half of whatever you're making back with him. On a cuter note, Ruggie practically bursts into two when you show up with a container full of warm, mouth watering, doughnuts. Judging by how fast Ruggies tail was wagging, you were afraid that he was about to fly up into space.
⋆ Despite his tendencies to try to keep his emotions to himself, Jack really does appreciate the effort you put in to make his meals protein pack and nutritious. And while he’s not the greatest cook, Jack helps the best he can in the kitchen. Though, he’s a little clumsy (if his culinary crucible says otherwise, no it doesn’t) but he’s eager! Jack is a quick learner so it doesn't take him very long to get the hang of things. Definitely subtly brags about it to the other first years. But if any of them dares to mention how fast his tail is wagging, he gets all pouty with embarrassment. I definitely suggest keeping it to meals and not sweet. Jack is not a sweet guy at all. Though he might indulge if you give him puppy-dog eyes.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland hcs#twst hcs#grim#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey x reader#trey clover x reader#cater x reader#cater diamond x reader#ace x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce x reader#deuce spade x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie x reader#ruggie bucci x reader#jack x reader#jack howl x reader#mari writes
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Extra Credit
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.69k (im so sorry)
Warnings: first time blow job, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, F/M, cunnilingus, fingering, aged-up characters, Hogwarts Uni AU
Summary:
Fed up with being romantically inept, you ask your childhood best friend, Fred Weasley, for some help.
Despite his reputation, Fred was quite the studious reader. He was always in the heart of the common room on a weekend, buried in a book about tricks, potions, and temporary charms. He was a man of research and if he found something that needed testing, he would contact you. You had been his most trusted scientific confidant since your childhood years and now in post-secondary school, the two of you were ever the academics. Fred and George disguised their penchant for shenanigans through their potioneering concentration and fortunate for them, you were naturally gifted from the amount of times you want to defy your old potions professor. However, while post-secondary school had been kind, you felt yourself lacking knowledge in a different area of life: romance.
You seemed to be the only one amongst your friends to be completely unskilled in the art of love. While your friends seemed to effortlessly navigate the waters of dating and relationships, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of awkwardness and uncertainty. Sure, you tried when you were younger, but time and opportunity eluded you. You were always too focused on your own agency or helping the twins pull off some prank. There wasn’t a single boy who caught and held your attention like Fred or George. You finally decided one night to take the plunge and join the sexual fray by asking Fred to help you out. You leveraged in your mind it was an educational opportunity that would only happen once. Fred was a frequent flier, as you had heard him described, around school, so you figured that not only would he have the experience, but it would be as casual as his other flings.
It was during one of your late-night study sessions with Fred that you finally decided to broach the subject. The common room was empty save for the two of you, the crackling fire casting a warm glow over the scattered parchments and open books.
"Fred," You began hesitantly, setting down your quill. The sound of the cracking embers saved you from any awkward silence. "Can I ask you something... personal?"
"Of course. What's on your mind?" Fred looked up from his book on temporary transfiguration charms, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. You took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm. He put his book down when he clocked your growing fluster.
"How do you... I need to ask you something. Er… a favor?” You shifted your weight nervously, which only added to the glee in Fred’s face. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and stretching his arms behind his head. His smirk only grew wider.
“I love an opportunity for quid pro quo. What do you have in mind, princess?” Fred kept his lazy demeanor. Your stomach continued to bubble over from the nerves. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to ask him for this. Fred’s eyes followed you closely, especially when you swallowed thickly before speaking.
"Um, well...it's a chance to learn something new? An educational opportunity," You stumbled over your words, desperately trying to delay the inevitable. Fred gave you a quizzical look, silently urging you to elaborate with another raise of his eyebrows. "I...okay, fine. Teach me how to use my mouth."
“Well, I think you have enough wit for the both of us and I know you and Cedric love to catch a snog-”
“No. Not like that,” The words felt like defeat as they left your lips. You curled your fingers in a nauseating mixture of fear and excitement. You leaned closer on the table and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Are you really going to make me say it?”
“Oh… Oh!” Fred’s eyes flashed with realization. He stood up from his chair too quickly, causing it to topple over and sent him crashing to the floor. You let out a gasp as Fred laughed and stayed on the ground. You reached out with a trembling hand to help him up, but he took advantage of the situation by pulling you down on top of him. “Are you... sure? Are you serious?”
“This is mortifying enough. Forget I said anything. It was, uh, a dare!” Your cheeks burned with humiliation while you scrambled to your feet. Fred let out another laugh and stood up without your help. Before you could flee, Fred grabbed your arm and trapped you against his body. He was absolutely drinking in your flustered state.
“Woah, hey, where do you think you’re going? A dare? Nice try; You’re an awful liar,” Fred chuckled. He licked his lips in pure entertainment and you swore you saw his eyes darken. “I’ll teach you. I never said I wouldn’t.”
“I made a mistake. I don’t want this to make things weird between us,” You shake your head as if trying to clear your second thoughts, your first thoughts, and any thoughts, really. Fred took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head back so you looked up at him. Your mouth ran dry as you met his mischievous gaze. It was no secret that Fred was wildly attractive or that he was the object of affection for any girl in your cohort. You never thought you’d be seeing your childhood best friend in such light, but with the offer you just made, you tipped the two of you into an irreversible grey area.
“It’s only weird if you don’t enjoy it and I am a very good teacher,” Fred practically purred into your ear. Your breath hitched as Fred's lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t deny the fire building in your stomach that was beginning to temper your nausea. You couldn't believe this was happening, that you had actually asked him for this, and that he had agreed. “And I can’t pass up an educational opportunity. Especially not to you.”
"So, um, how do we... start?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. Fred pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief and something darker.
"Well, first things first," Fred said, his voice low and husky. "We need a more private location. My room should do nicely."
Before you could protest, Fred had taken your hand and was leading you up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Your heart pounded in your chest with each step and your mind followed suit, racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Once inside, Fred closed the door behind you with his foot and pushed you roughly against the wall. This was really happening.
“Stop me at any point, princess,” Fred trailed his lips from your ear lobe down to your jaw. He had you trapped against the door with a hand by your head and his knee planted against your thighs. He was skilled, as you had thought, and instead of feeling anxiety, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Your knees buckled as you felt his body heat envelop yours.
“Y-yes,” You said softly, nearly whimpering as you tried to restrain your hips from bucking into Fred’s leg. You felt ridiculous at your rampant desperation and tried miserably to keep your composure. Fred was delighted. He captured your lips into his and you sank into his plush warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to deepen the kiss. Despite the rational side of you telling you to stop kissing your best friend, the deliciously irrational side was indulging in how kissing Fred felt like an electric current. His free hand snaked to your waist, gentle yet firm with possession.
As your tongues tangled, you savored the taste of Fred's lips, tinged with the subtle flavor of mint from the gum he had been chewing earlier and a general candied sweetness. The mint mixed with his wild scent of firewood smoke and woody cologne, driving you absolutely insane. You tilted your head back without any protest to allow Fred access to your neck. He deftly nipped at the sensitive skin between your neck and jaw, drawing out your whimpers even more. Your hands dragged slowly from his neck down to his broad chest until they finally landed hooked in his belt loops. You ghosted your hands over the free edge of his trousers, mindlessly tracing the space between his pants and boxers. You moved your hand down further, gently teasing his growing bulge. Fred grunted with frustrated desire and sucked down on your neck hard.
You blindly tugged at his belt with a matched desperation to free him. Fred's hands quickly joined yours, fumbling with his belt buckle in a frantic rush. As it finally came loose, you yanked it free and tossed it aside, the metal clinking as it hit the floor. Your fingers trembled as you worked on the button of his jeans, while Fred's mouth continued its assault on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.
"Merlin, I've wanted this for so long. You are… unreal," Fred breathed against your skin, his voice strained with need. You thought he was speaking out of desire, for there was no way your childhood friend thought of you the same way you did him. He worked the buttons of your blouse loose and he couldn’t help himself from tearing his mouth away from your body to savor the sight. Before you could fully undo his jeans, he placed an imposing hand over yours. “Ah, ah. Your lesson begins here. Get on your knees.”
With an obedience purely fueled by desperation, you nodded at Fred while looking up at him through your eyelashes. You dropped to your knees while keeping your hands on his hips. A small part of you wanted to impress him, so you finally tugged his jeans and boxers off in one go.
“Eager student, aren’t you? Very Ravenclaw of you,” Fred grinned with a humored sarcasm. With a strange fondness, he caressed your cheek before raking his fingers through your hair so that he could gather it all back into a firm hold. You looked at his member nervously, trying to keep your eyes from widening. You realized that his “object of affection” went further than his whimsical looks and personality.
"Don't worry, love. We'll take it slow," Fred chuckled softly at your hesitation, but still he reassured you, his voice throaty with desire. You tentatively reached out, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. Fred inhaled sharply at your touch, his grip tightening in your hair. Emboldened by his reaction, you began to stroke him slowly, marveling at the velvet-soft skin over steel hardness. "That's it. Now, use your mouth. Just the tip at first."
Heart racing, you leaned forward and took him between your lips. Fred groaned deeply, his hips jerking slightly. His fingers flexed tightly against your scalp. The salty taste of him filled your senses as you swirled your tongue experimentally. Your mind raked through what your friends had told you before and how to proceed. You leaned forward, taking more of him into your mouth while keeping your eyes trained on him for reaction. You hollowed your cheeks to apply a gentle suction as you began to bob your head. Fred’s hips twitched, fighting the urge to thrust. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hair and guided your movements that way. His free hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing over your stretched lips. It seemed as if he couldn’t believe the situation either.
“You… you don’t seem to need lessons,” Fred hissed. You kept looking up at him, utterly fascinated by his reaction. You were enjoying the way you were making him come undone. “Mmm, move your hand down… Merlin, just like that. Good girl.”
You obeyed, sliding your hand down to the base of his shaft as you continued your ministrations with your mouth. His words caused you to moan around him. You dragged a cupping hand over the furthest part of his manhood, which made Fred throw back his head with the loudest groan by far. Fred's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to maintain control. The grip in your hair tightened further, almost to the point of pain, but the discomfort only fueled your arousal.
"Fuck," Fred groaned, his voice strained. "You're a natural, love. But if you keep this up, I won't last much longer."
Encouraged by his words, you redoubled your efforts, taking him deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly but with his guidance, you were determined to bring him pleasure. Fred's hips began to move more insistently, setting a rhythm that you eagerly matched.
"I'm close," Fred warned, his voice trembling with a moan. "You don't have to--"
You had no intention of stopping. You attempted to swallow what you could around him and Fred’s eyes squeezed shut tight. Humming in acknowledgement, Fred twitched at the vibration. With a hand around his shaft and the other at his sack, you could feel him close to ending the lesson you begged for. In one swift movement, Fred's hand reached up and grabbed your hair, pulling you away from his manhood. Your eyes widened in surprise and your gaze met his intense, dark eyes. Your gag was replaced with a gasp while you forgot how to breathe. Fred breathing was just as heavy and ragged as yours while he tried to regain his composure. His messy red hair clung to his aroused perspiration. He looked down at the sight of you on your knees, a small smile peeking through the corner of his lips.
“Is something wrong? Fred-”
“I want to keep going. I don’t want to finish here, but Merlin, you are gorgeous,” Fred panted. You gave a wide eyed nod while Fred yanked you up. “It’s not fair that you’re basically fully clothed.”
“An easy fix,” Your voice was still hoarse from the earlier intrusion, but it didn’t distract you from fully shedding your clothes. Fred leaned foward to reseek your mouth and took your distraction as an opportunity to push you back into his bed. “Is this taking it too far?”
“Only if you think so,” Fred moved a gentle hand down towards your breasts, indulging himself in the soft mound of skin. Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at your naked form. “Do you want to stop?”
"No, god, no,” You mewled. “This is… extra credit.”
“Mmm, extra credit,” Fred removed his mouth from your neck to laugh at your remark. You arched into his touch, craving more.
"Please, Fred," You whimpered. You encouraged him by dragging your foot up against his thigh, pulling him closer with just your foot.
"Patience, love. I want to savor every inch of you," Fred chuckled against your skin again. “And I have to give you an ‘A’ for your earlier performance. This is just a testament to your good work.'“
True to his word, Fred took his time exploring your body with his lips and fingers. He lavished attention on your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. His mouth blazed a trail down your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel. When he finally reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling with need. Fred's hot breath ghosted over your most sensitive areas and he was having as much fun as you were.
“I can’t… Stop teasing, please… Fred-” You whined pathetically as you bucked your hips up, desperate for friction. Fred only tsked and held you down with more conviction. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your inner thighs, sending shivers through your body. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more contact. Fred's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he watched you writhe. Finally relenting, Fred lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. Encouraged by your reaction, Fred's tongue began to explore, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.
Your hands found their way into Fred's hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure washed over you. Fred's fingers joined his mouth, slowly pushing inside you as his tongue’s pace continued. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Fred’s mouth and fingers worked their magic. You wailed out an incoherent string of his name slathered with curses. You managed a peak at the mess of red hair between your thighs, only to be met with the cheeky smirk of a man drunk with desire. His smile is smug and glistening with your arousal, which only makes you arch your back higher.
You surrendered yourself to the pleasure, a symphony of sounds and sensations that left you breathless and flushed with desire. A tightness built in your stomach and you voiced your climbing pleasure by tugging at Fred’s hair. Painfully, though you did not know which party it hurt more, Fred removed his mouth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked nothing short of animalistic and he looked at you with primal pleasure. He helped himself up and kissed you again deeply, slowly lining himself up with you. You whimpered into the kiss, tasting a remnant of yourself on his lips as you felt the heat of him pressing against your entrance. Fred broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, more tender.
"Ready, love?" Fred murmured, pressing his forehead against you. You nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. Fred slowly pushed forward, stretching you deliciously as he entered. You both groaned in unison at the sensation, your bodies finally joining as one. Fred stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his arms trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. You were beside yourself at this point.
"Move," You pleaded, rolling your hips to encourage him. Fred didn't need to be told twice. He began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes that had you gasping for air at each movement. In the dim light of the room, you could see the muscles on Fred’s back ripple as he moved, his body glistening with sweat. The veins on his neck bulged with exertion while his face was a mix of concentration and pleasure. The scent of sweat and sex mixed together, a heady aroma that filled the room and only made you dizzy with further desire. Your lips parted as you panted for air, tasting the sweetness of Fred's kiss still lingering on your tongue. You pulled his head back down to feel his lips again. The rhythmic sounds of skin against skin and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the occasional moan or whimper of pleasure. Each thrust from Fred brought a new wave of pleasure, leaving you crying for wanting more.
Fred’s skin was hot against yours, his strong hands gripping onto your hips as he thrust into you. Your skin tingled with each movement, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, providing an anchor from falling off the edge too quickly.
“You’re so good, princess. You’re an addiction,” Fred languished in your ear. “How badly have you wanted me? I want to hear you say it.”
“Forever… Merlin, I’ve had a crush on you forever. I’ve wanted this- for so long- ah!” You struggled with your words as your mind began to turn white hot with ecstasy. While you would’ve said anything to secure your release, you were wretchedly honest. Fred bit back a smirk while he snapped his hips with much slower pace.
“Music. To. My. Ears,” Fred grunted with each movement of his hips. You began chanting his name again and clawed at his chest to stay grounded, but you had already begun to slip. “Come undone, princess. I want to see you make a mess of yourself. Because of me.”
Your body obeyed his command, trembling uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Fred's name fell from your lips in a breathy moan as your entire body lifted off of the bed. Your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the intensity of your release. Fred groaned deeply, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own climax.
"That's it, love. You're so beautiful like this," Fred heaved, his voice shaky with desire. As you came down from your high, Fred captured your lips in a searing kiss. In the moment, he pulled out and spilled himself onto your stomach with a labored breath. He collapsed next to you in exhaustion, begging for a second to recapture his thoughts.
While Fred helped you clean yourself of him and in the midst of redressing, a small sense of dread replaced the crashing adrenaline. You couldn't help but wonder if this was just a one-time thing for Fred and how it would affect the next day, hell, even the next five minutes. The thought made your chest tighten with anxiety. As if sensing your unease, Fred pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?" Fred murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin.
"I just... I don't want this to be a mistake. For you, I mean," You croaked with a new sense of clarity. Fred's eyes widened in surprise before softening with understanding. He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense and sincere.
"Listen to me, princess. This could never be a mistake. I've wanted you for so long, I can hardly believe this is real. If we make this work, it won’t change what we had," Fred assured with another kiss. He flattened your mussed hair and looked at you teasingly. “And if anything, this was just an education opportunity, right?”
“It was a good class,” Your heart fluttered from Fred’s reassurance. “Is there any homework I need to catch up on?”
“Oh, today was just an introduction to the syllabus, princess,” Fred bit his lip devilishly. “Ready for lesson two?”
#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley smut#fred weasley#fred weasley fic#Fred weasley x you#Fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley oneshot#hp smut
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first tumblr post wuh oh
(yap session incoming)
tristeva OVA redesigns because i HATEHATEHATE the whole retiring plotline omg. they have so much left to do what do you mean they retire before they’ve hit 20???
anyway!!!
in my rewrite, evangelyne is the captain of her own elite squadron of cra and dally is on a mission to beat every dungeon in the world of twelve.
yes, elely and flopin still exist, they just take them on missions and junk :33
#tristepin#evangelyne#tristeva#wakfuova#dont mention the ‘evangelyne becoming a housewife plotline around me’#i will immediately become filled with white hot rage#wakfu#anyways aren’t they the cutest
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