#everyone would always be perfectly in character
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themuseofaphrodite · 3 days ago
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know that you and i shouldn’t feel like a crime ✧ OP81
summary: after viewing a series of viral tiktoks, you decide to partake in the “hear me out” cake trend with your very wary boyfriend.
trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing
word count: 1k
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One of your most surprising qualities was that you were a TikTok fiend, especially since you were usually down to earth and didn’t use your phone much in public — but for good reason. Your “For You” page was filled with some of the weirdest, wackiest things: dangerous extreme sport challenges, odd filters used on pets for a quick laugh… the list could go on. Each video was a perfect way to destroy your reputation as the effortlessly suave McLaren princess.
You slouched on the creaky recliner next to Oscar Piastri, your boyfriend of almost three years, and sighed loudly, garnering his attention immediately. He was perfectly attuned to your every movement and breath, which was why you liked him so much. Nothing was worse than a nonchalant man, and Oscar was anything but that.
“Hm, darling? Everything OK?” Oscar looked up at you from where he was sitting, pausing the television with a careless flick of his hand. “It’s getting late, maybe you’re tired? You did have a long day.”
You shrugged one shoulder, feigning coolness. “No, I’m fine, I’m not tired. I just have an idea.”
Oscar raised one eyebrow, already on alert. That last sentence always warned him that something was afoot, and nine times out of ten, it was never anything good. “Oh, no. What now?”
“There’s a trend going around” — this made Oscar visibly tense, a vein in his neck going taut as he waited for you to continue. He disliked the viral pranks and never laughed at any of them, to your dismay — “and I was hoping you’d be willing to participate in one of them with me?” You batted your eyelashes, giving him puppy dog eyes, a trick you knew he couldn’t resist.
“If my mates find out about this,” he warned you, waving a finger menacingly at you like a stereotypical villain. “No posting this like you did last time.” You stifled a laugh at the thought of the last prank you engaged in, and the way it had broken the Internet when you posted it on social media. Oscar had not forgiven you, and it had been almost a year.
You shook your head solemnly, extending your pinky finger out to him so he would interlock his own in an unspoken vow. “I promise you I won’t post it.”
“Good.” He pursed his lips, obviously remembering the media disaster that had unfolded last time. McLaren had not been happy with him in the slightest, to say the least. He was still making it up to them even now. “What’s the trend?”
You edged yourself closer to him, tilting your chin conspiratorially and speaking in a low whisper. “Hear me out.”
Oscar’s eyebrows furrowed, clueless. He scrolled through TikTok very rarely, mainly preferring to stick to television, and sometimes Instagram reels, so he had no idea what you were talking about. “Pardon?”
“So, basically,” you explained, your voice bright with mischief, “you have to think of a few characters, or people, that you think are attractive, although others might disagree with you. For example, hear me out,” you started, a moment’s pause between your response. “Bumblebee from Transformers.”
Oscar’s jaw dropped as the name clicked. “The robot? You want to tell me that you find a machine attractive?”
“He’s protective and sweet, and has really good music taste,” you defended, pouting.
“Goddamn, Y/N, starting off strong.” Oscar hummed under his breath, thinking. “Hear me out, Megan Fox but in Jennifer’s Body.”
You groaned loudly, annoyed. “That’s not a ‘hear me out’. Everyone agrees that Megan Fox in that film was beautiful. It has to be something unhinged, like, hear me out” — you clucked your tongue, pondering over the various choices floating around in your mind — “the Goldfish cracker on the front of the bag.”
Oscar made a distinct choking noise, his face flushing red. “An animal? God, Y/N. I should report you to the police so they can put you behind bars.”
You swatted him on the shoulder, barely missing him since his reflexes were superhuman. “Try again, Osc. Really shock me with this next one, please.”
“Hear me out…Belle from Beauty and the Beast.” Oscar waited for your approval, and you sighed, throwing your hands up in the air in surrender. “What? How was that not good? She’s a cartoon!”
“Everyone loves Belle! She’s fierce, intelligent, and stunning. All qualities that are conventionally attractive!” You shook your head. “Come on. Hear me out, a string bass.”
Oscar’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What the — Please tell me you’re joking, love. There’s no way you could find an instrument attractive.”
“A bass is tall, deep-pitched, and mysterious. Just what I like in a man.” You beamed up at him. “OK, Oscar. Don’t disappoint me.”
He side-eyed you, tapping his fingers on his lap as he thought. “I have one.” You watched him with bated breath, hoping that he would finally catch on. “Hear me out, Sydney Sweeney, in general.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I give up, Oscar. I should’ve known that this wouldn’t have worked. Lando would be so much better to do this with… Let me ask him if he’s free.”
Oscar rolled his eyes, pulling you onto his lap before you could escape, and giving you a quick peck to your lips. “Sorry, darling. Better luck next time?”
You huffed. “Whatever, Oscar. I forgot you were an inadequate, basic white boy.”
Oscar nudged his nose against your jaw, whispering in a husky, deep voice. “Hear me out, my girlfriend, Y/N L/N. She might be batshit crazy sometimes, but she’s absolutely breathtaking. When she’s underneath me, begging for my cock like a good girl? It’s a fucking work of art.”
You suppressed a shiver, looping your arm and burying yourself against him, arousal dancing under your skin. “Fuck, OK. You win.”
He kissed you again, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Oh, I know. I always do. Future world champion, remember?”
“Arrogant prick,” you muttered, but your curses were swallowed up by a new wave of kisses Oscar pressed against your lips.
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requiemforthepoets · 19 hours ago
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ain’t nothing like an asian wedding! 𖦹 LN4
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part one
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���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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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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omgcatboi · 3 days ago
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When I was a kid I was kind of chubby, and in my teenage years I adopted the mentality of ' if I get fit then I guess I'm better than I was ' ( which was internalized fatphobia , an extremely weird kind that was only intended to be directed at myself. Very strange considering I've always loved fat people and been obsessed with how much I love fat people and even have had fat characters even when I was thin. But even if the intention was only directed at myself, inherently, fatphobia affects everyone. But mostly fat people. )
This post puts it into words perfectly. Getting fit didn't make me happy at all, it just gave me a very inflated and untruthful ego. And that ego was used as a safeguard for fat phobia. Even if it isn't intended to affect others again it still affects others. There is just simply no way around It.
It wasn't until I was able to start testosterone and transition medically that I felt comfortable enough in my body to gain weight. And after that, all those thoughts of how amazing it should feel to be fit melted away. Because it was always a should and never a matter of fact. I never actually felt better, I just felt lighter and tougher. I was tough because I felt like I wasn't allowed to be vulnerable in this world.
And that's lame. That's a very lame way of thinking. It's super lame to think that you can't be allowed vulnerability in this world. It is a Injustice to yourself to deny yourself comfort and softness. I used to feel so weird about perceiving myself as fat for the longest time as a teenager. And my adult life it was nothing but longing to be fat. And then I was able to transition.
So if you feel very uncomfortable about being fat, you should really get down to the root of that. Because it could just be that you aren't happy living the life that you are currently living. And if you delve deep into it and take the dive and find out that you actually don't want to be fat in the end that's okay too. But in this world you need to question everything about yourself in order to solidify it, without over questioning.
Challenging your beliefs builds character, and it builds morale. It gives you perspectives you would have never had without challenging your own views even when your views end up being something you still believe in and still agree with after challenging them which is kind of the point sometimes. Sometimes you need to come from a different angle in order to give yourself more context in order to actually explain something.
And the more understanding you have about yourself the better. No matter what.
So why not take the dive? I'm not saying go to the fridge and start stuffing your face, I'm saying question why you feel so uncomfortable with being fat. Question it and allow yourself to feel the emotion so that you can follow it and trace it to its source. Were you bullied? Did you have an abuser that was fat in your childhood that warped your view? Is your parent fat and you just don't want to be like your parent so it translates into fatphobia?
I think if people were more honest with themselves the world would be a much better place.
not to bat at a hornets nest but. people who were super insecure or were bullied about being pudgy and "got better" by becoming thinner or super muscular never actually got rid of that insecurity, they simply became the image they felt they had to live up to
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theredhairedmonkey · 2 days ago
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I feel like most people kinda get the point of the season, but it does seem that there are a handful of people that are either ideologically committed to either seeing dark magic as always evil or seeing Callum as morally corrupt or compromised in a way that Rayla and Ezran are not (not sure how the latter is even remotely possible at this point), so maybe it might be good to spell out season 7's theme for everyone's benefit:
This season's theme is first and foremost about the loss of childhood innocence, a necessary step to becoming a fully-rounded adult. When Aaravos talks about losing childhood innocence, he's referring to the moment when someone realizes the world isn't as simple as they once believed - that good and evil aren't always clear-cut, that sometimes difficult choices must be made. His perspective seems to be that losing this innocence inevitably leads to moral compromise, that understanding complexity means abandoning simple principles.
And he's...actually not wrong. Ezran wasn't pure because he was such a moral paragon, but because he was innocent. He was able to position himself around ethical lines (such as refraining from violence) because he was always protected from the consequences that moral complexity brings. But once that was taken away - Katolis destroyed, facing his father's killer, witnessing Callum's supposed betrayal - it forced Ez into a situation where he couldn't take the same morally rigid stances he once did. 
Complexity invites challenges. Challenges invites compromise. 
Much like Aaravos, Callum is a character who understands all too well what this means. He lost his innocence at a much younger age when both his biological parents had died and he was forced to grow up too fast. When Aaravos says that there is "great affinity" between them, he's right in a certain way - he's recognizing their shared ability to perceive moral complexity - to understand that situations aren't always simple black and white choices. Both characters demonstrate this understanding. Aaravos sees beyond simple good and evil, recognizing that sometimes difficult choices must be made. Similarly, Callum understands that situations can be "complicated," as he says about the Runaan situation, acknowledging that justice and mercy can conflict.
However, Aaravos is also very wrong about Callum because he fundamentally misunderstands what he does with this knowledge. 
When Aaravos talks about "compromise," he means compromising moral principles to achieve desired ends. His view is that since the world is morally complex, we're justified in doing whatever serves our purposes. This is where he's wrong about Callum.
Callum's recognition of moral complexity actually leads him to become more principled, not less. When he understands a situation is complicated, he doesn't use that as justification for moral compromise. Instead, he looks for solutions that acknowledge the complexity while maintaining clear principles about who should bear the costs of difficult choices. His final plan with Aaravos demonstrates this perfectly - he recognizes the need to use dark magic (showing he understands complexity) but ensures he bears the cost himself through sacrifice (maintaining his principles).
The situation with Runaan foreshadows how he handles Aaravos - Callum's recognition of complexity leads him to find more creative ways to do what's right, while maintaining principles about who should bear the costs. Whereas Viren/Claudia would sacrifice others (i.e. creatures, people, etc.) to achieve their ends, Callum's main sacrifice is himself - he will block Aanya's arrow with his body, or resign as High Mage the second he think it would be necessary to do the right thing.
This explains why Aaravos becomes so furious when Callum reveals his sacrifice plan. Aaravos believed their shared understanding of complexity meant Callum would eventually follow his path of moral compromise. Instead, Callum shows that understanding complexity just motivated him to find other ways to stay true to his principles, even at the cost of his own life. He proves that recognizing the world isn't black and white doesn't have to lead to corruption.
By the end, he demonstrates a simple truth that forms the core of this season - the loss of one's innocence is inevitable, but the loss of one's character is not.
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kazucee · 2 days ago
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MY NAME LIKE VELVET ON YOUR TONGUE !
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pairings: [MARAUDERS] Remus Lupin x Sirius Black!
note: Merry Christmas wolfstar truthers, this is my gift to you! i missed writing about wolfstar so much and I had to make it everyone else's problem. A collection of fluffy moments where Remus is just down bad and Sirius is 'oblivious'. This was not proofread at all so I apologize if you find any mistakes! wc: 4.2k (never underestimate how much I can yap about them)
synopsis: Remus never liked his name, he always thought it sounded odd and bland. That all changed when he met Sirius Orion Black, a chaotic, mischief making boy with a smile that made him question every foundation of his character. Remus never liked his name, the only exception being when Sirius says it.
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"Sirius Orion Black" the young lad introduced himself with a certain charisma, a certain aura that seemed to punctuate and bleed out of each posh syllable that slipped out of his mouth. This was the first time Remus had ever seen such pretty and well-kept hair, it made him uncomfortable and suddenly he found himself tongue-tied, deciding to remain mute as his newly acquired friends—James and Peter followed up with their own self-introductions. The lad looked at him with a raised brow seeing as he was the only one who hadn't spoken.
"And you?" It wasn't a question, more like a polite demand, an unconscious slip-up that originated from blood heritage, old money, unwanted piano lessons, perfect images and broken family lines. Remus could almost see the way this boy—Sirius, physically recoiled from the tone he had used.
"What's your name?" It came out a bit softer this time, tentative, as if tasting the way those words molded with that tone. Remus had to fight back the urge to deck him across the face.
"Remus. John. Lupin." his voice came out scratchy and rough and he hated how it sounded compared to his.
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"Sirius Orion Black" James Potter yells, brows furrowed in mild contempt from across the hallway with his multicoloured locks that had just shifted to orange. The charismatic boy simply lets out a chuckle as he hides behind the conveniently placed taller man in front of him, something he seemed to do a lot whenever Remus was around. "Remus, don't you think he'd make a wonderful redhead?" Sirius snickers as he sees James heading towards the two of them, his almond eyes furious.
"Debatable." The taller boy hums, his attention split between the way Sirius was lightly clutching on his robes and the herbology readings he was trying to focus on.
"Remus John Lupin" he shifted his gaze from the book to meet those blueish-grey eyes, like the calm before a raging storm, the waves just before they take you under. Sirius had a habit of saying his full name to get Remus' attention, the other boy hadn't the faintest clue why but he won't deny that he didn't look forward to hearing the other say his name in that faint posh accent of his he tries desperately to hide.
"Moony, you truly couldn't spare me a second of your time?" A pout, a scrunch of a well-defined brow and Remus felt his heart sigh pathetically as he watched his hand betray him by tucking the Herbology text away to give the other the attention he so desperately needed (he had always had it.)
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"Sirius Orion Black with the magnificent save" Usually Remus didn't care for Quidditch, he didn't care at all, he actually would rather be inside the Gryffindor common room with his books and the warm fire, not out here where the bite of winter left his throat oddly parched and nose in the perpetual state of runny. But then there he was, the star player of team Gryffindor. People would argue that that position is tailored for James Potter but Remus thinks otherwise.
There are people who shine brightly on the playing field and Remus would admit that James qualified perfectly for that—akin to the sun.
Stars however don't shine, they twinkle, pretty if you observe them enough but usually overlooked in favour of the moon.
His movements like quicksilver, Sirius easily beats the ball in the other direction without so much as a small taunting grin that makes Remus stare and stare and— it throws the entire offence side of Team Slytherin off balance momentarily allowing James to score another goal. The crowd cheers as Gryffindor finally secures a win, over the chorus of all the drums and trumpets and obnoxious screaming Remus caught Sirius patting James on the back. He was smiling again.
He didn't look away when their eyes met. Sirius flew down towards the bleachers fluidly maneuvering the broom as if he was made to be on it. His hair was a mess, thrown haphazardly into a half-moon hairstyle and Remus found himself resisting the urge to run his fingers through it. Sirius always had that specific effect on people, it wasn't just Remus. Can the boy be blamed if those ebony locks truly looked as if they were spun by the night sky?
"better than reading your boring books ain't it moony?" His voice snapped Remus out of his daze, it took all his willpower to hold his hand back, clenching his fingers into a fist as he shoved it into the pockets of his robes suddenly feeling cold despite having knitted gloves on.
“You missed that one bludger" Remus replied with a bored expression but anyone could see the way those eyes the shade of aged leather sparkled with admiration for the man in front of him.
"There's no pleasing you" Sirius groans dramatically, rolling his eyes but Remus didn't miss the small quirk of his lips into that nearly there smile.
"There's a lot of ways to please me" He finds himself saying with a shrug as he stood from his place on the bleachers,
Sirius was still on the broom in a position that no sane person would try to do. He could see the way Sirius paused in his movement on the broom, eyes meeting his again, the winter air felt a bit more warm.
"Noted." Sirius snorts as he floats a bit closer and for a moment Remus lets himself imagine.
The ebony-haired boy suddenly grins, flicks the skin between his eyes and shoots up with his broom, joining James and the Gryffindor team for a photograph. Fixing his hair as he smiles that Godforsaken Sirius Black smile.
Remus blinks. Sighs. Picks up his books and calms his beating heart.
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“Moony”
“Moony”
“Mooonnn-”
“Oh for Merlin's sake, Sirius Black” Remus found himself groaning aloud as the man finally ceased his unwanted whines.
It was snowing harder to the point where even the all-mighty cannot be touched Sirius Black decided his talents were best spent indoors…annoying the wits out of Remus. At first, he let it slide as it was simply harmless spells being cast, a couple of pens levitated overhead, the occasional snicker that Remus would always find himself straining his ears to listen in to, the faint humming of a random tune that often had Remus rereading the same paragraph again and again.
That was until Sirius decided that Remus was far more interesting than measly levitation spells or stacking cards and unfortunately took the liberty of sitting dangerously close by and calling his nickname to get his attention.
“Sorry,” The ebony-haired boy says, tone apologetic but his grin is anything but. Remus gave a bemused glance, sparing himself from another round of whining he cleverly put his charms textbook aside.
“Fine, you win. You have my attention, what do you want.” He said rather bluntly trying to ignore the way the other looked at him like he was some sort of constellation Sirius was trying to figure out the name of (quite ridiculous considering that he knows for a fact that Sirius is updated with all the different constellations in the sky, charting stars despite claiming that astronomy was for losers.)
“Well technically I really did only want your attention” There it was, that Cheshire grin full of mischief and an underlying emotion that Remus could not for the life of him determine. His stare stayed the same, bemused, but for a brief second they wandered down somewhere other than Sirius’ twinkling grey eyes, he mentally steeled himself.
“I am picking up my charms textbook again” The brush of a hand, it wasn't his own. Sirius had reached over, taking Remus’ scarred hand in his own to prevent him from picking up the textbook.
A collective intake of breaths.
A collective shockwave of electricity humming through their bones at the contact of skin on skin. Hand in hand.
Remus then realized not only was Sirius (too) close to him but that his eyes were such a pretty mirage of blue and grey under the soft winter lighting like starlight polishing platinum. His long lashes framing those starlit eyes, a girl's envy, heck even Remus found himself envious.
Oh God. Say something. Remus found himself thinking.
“Why are your hands so cold-”
“Ditching me for a charms book-”
It seems their trains of thought ran the same track only to collide painfully. The silence was thick and uncomfortable and Remus wanted any distraction at this point, anything to keep him from staring into Sirius' eyes because the feeling he got from doing so was going to gnaw at him from the inside out.
“My hands are that cold?” Sirius with the lightning recovery breaks the silence first and Remus finally shifts his gaze towards the pale digits that were wrapped around his own hand. He did have such nice hands. Defined bones with well-trimmed nails accompanied with chipped black nail polish and sloppily drawn star designs, it almost made Remus laugh.
“Like a block of ice.” He quipped after spending an embarrassingly long amount of time staring at the others hand.
“Rude.” Without looking he could already tell that those starlit eyes were narrowed, the mere thought making his lip twitch. “I think it has something to do with poor blood circulation” Remus says, his voice trying its best to sound aloof and uncaring.
He still hasn't let go.
He still hasn't let go.
“And your hand is warm,” Sirius remarked softly, fingers shifting slightly to caress one of the scars littered on tanned skin. Remus swallowed thickly at the sensation.
“I have good blood circulation” His voice was less aloof, less uncaring, he hated how it sounded compared to Sirius'. His heart pounded like a drum, he wondered if Sirius could hear the symphony he caused just from a simple touch, a simple caress.
“Are you seriously saying that your blood circulation is better than mine?”
Leave it to Sirius for ruining… well a serious moment.
“Are you serious?” Remus found himself saying out loud, his voice bewildered at the audacity of this man and his ability to make the most insignificant thing such as blood circulation a competition.
“Why yes, I am Sirius.”
Impossible. The only word first that could describe the grinning idiot in front of him.
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“Sirius Orion Black!” a panicked whisper rang out making the paintings huff in mild annoyance. Remus frankly didn't care, not when his best friend was minutes away from getting caught by a prefect or even worse. Argus Filch.
The darkness of the castle's hallway was their only cover—well and the invisibility cloak James had lent them. But what use did the invisibility cloak serve if one keeps making it a point to waltz around like they own the place?
“You are going to get us caught-”
“Can you stop worrying for once moony?” Sirius quickly shot back as he turned the hall with practised ease like he had all the turns memorized. A highly likely situation given that he and James have been planning this prank for months. Multiple nights of Sirius sneaking into James' bed, the whispers before one of them finally casts an Imperturbable Charm.
Remus somehow always ended up roped into these things; he was quite certain it was because of James' annoying pestering and not a certain someone giving him those stupid puppy dog eyes.
“I'll stop worrying when we actually reach our destination without any problem. Something that won’t happen if you keep prancing around like a drunk on Christmas Eve.” Remus hissed out annoyed out of his mind, emphasizing the ‘prancing around’ part, the painting in the hall gave a few grunts of displeasure at the ruckus the two were causing.
“How many times must I repeat myself—we will be fine. Either way, if I get caught you won't be affected seeing as you're invisible” Sirius prattled on, abruptly facing Remus or at least where he thought Remus was situated.
Remus didn't have the heart to tell Sirius that he was actually not beside him but behind him. Well no—it was more like he found it amusing. Watching Sirius talk to thin air like he had gone mad. He took a moment to marvel at how terrible the other was when it came to pinpointing the source of his voice.
“and plus it's hot in the cloak” Sirius added with a huff and he sees him turn his face from ‘Remus’. That was a point Remus couldn't refute, after all, they weren't exactly children anymore. During their 1st and 2nd years all four of them could easily fit in the cloak, right now even with two people it felt cramped and Remus didn't want to imagine what it felt like being pressed close against Sirius shuffling around in the dark.
His cheeks felt warm and he immediately thought of something else. The silence continued. Sirius wandered the halls whilst Remus trailed behind him like a shadow.
If there was something Remus was sure about it was that Sirius couldn't bear the silence, always using that loud mouth of his to fill it with nonsensical rambles. Apparently sneaking around wasn't an exception to that endearing annoying trait of his.
“It would be hilarious to run into Minnie” Remus could almost hear Professor McGonagalls eye roll at the telltale nickname Sirius and James so graciously bestowed on her. “I also can't wait to see the look on snivellus’ face when-”
Remus heard it first and acted so quickly that he didn't have time to register it himself. The sound of footsteps, the tug of an arm, the small ‘oof’ sound Sirius let out when Remus pressed him against the wall effectively concealing them both under the invisibility cloak.
First, it was dark and only their breathing could be heard. Remus tried his best to look away from Sirius because only Godric Gryffindor himself knew how much self-control he had and how much he was willing to throw away just to—
Footsteps. Then the warm glow of a lantern. Filch appeared from the corner with Ms. Norris behind him, the beady-eyed cat let out a yowl almost as if it could sense the presence of two boys hiding in plain sight. Remus felt Sirius shift uncomfortably as if trying to put more space between them and failing to do so. The motion caused Remus to break that internal rule he placed in his mind(the‘don't-look-at-Sirius-when-he-is-dangerously-close-to-you-rule’)
‘Filch’ Sirius mouthed once the two made eye contact.
Remus had always been good at reading lips, and Sirius had always been good at enunciating his syllables. Something that Remus was made painfully aware of at this moment.
Their only source of light was the warm glow of the small lantern Filch carried in his hand; as he moved, the light would shift as well, perfectly highlighting all the sharp contours of Sirius’ face. Sirius and his stupidly good-looking face, with his stupid lips-
‘Remus’ Sirius looked alarmed
He tenses when he hears Mrs.Norris let out yet another meow, this time closer.
“What is it girl?” he hears Filch approach and his heart practically performs a whole gymnastics routine right then and there.
‘MOVE.’ Sirius’ eyes seem to say, wide with alarm as he grabs the wrist of Remus’ left hand, he could see the way those eyes frantically looked behind him in panic. Honestly, when it came to fight or flight situations Remus would choose neither as he believed in his capabilities of not getting into such predicaments. But he could hear Filch and Mrs. Norris getting closer by the minute. He grabs his wand quickly
Quietus.
He uttered the spell in his mind, he didn't think it'd work—he never tried mentally casting a spell but at this point he was desperate. There was a small tingle that ran through the entirety of his body before reaching the tip of his wand, the spell had been casted. His other arm circled easily around Sirius’ waist and Remus was rewarded with a small surprised squawk and with little to no effort he hoisted the other boy up, one arm hooked under his knees with the other supporting his back. He heard the cat hiss in contempt as he ran away, Sirius despite being stunned still managed to pin the invisibility cloak to them as Remus ran, he didn't stop till he was sure they were far away from Filch and Mrs. Norris.
“Remus. John. Lupin.” Sirius’ voice danced and coated every single syllable of his name with that honeyed posh accent of his but Remus could tell by the way it shook in the end that he was nervous (or ecstatic? You can never tell in Sirius' case)
He realized he was still carrying him. He didn't want to let go. His fingers twitch slightly under the weight of Sirius, he weighed nothing, or was Remus convincing himself of that because he wanted to hold the other close for just a moment longer.
He made a plan in his mind. It was simple really as it only required two steps.
If Sirius told him to set him down he would.
If Sirius doesn't then he won't.
He lets the silence ruminate for a bit, his earlier run turning into a slow easy pace.
Sirius is in his arms.
Sirius is in his arms.
Sirius is in his arms.
His heart was pounding hard. With how close Sirius was he was sure the other could feel it, feel it reverberating throughout every cavity of his being. He didn't think to reply back to him, just relishing in the way his name was said.
If Sirius had any plans on getting off he didn't make it known. It was only until they reached the Gryffindor common room with James' curious smile and Peter's half awake mumbles did Sirius react, shifting to get down. Remus let him, finding himself stupidly missing the weight.
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“Sirius Orion Black what in Merlin's name are you doing?” Remus always had that one particular spot in the library, a spot that was hidden away from all the sounds of quills scribbling and soft murmurs of practice spells. When he wasn't running around with the Marauders or lounging at the Gryffindor common room he was found here.
“Joining you? To study?” Sirius replied casually, accentuating that point by slamming a tower of textbooks on the table making the library's noises pause for a bit, as if sensing a newcomer. Remus glared at him already feeling a headache forming, a very Sirius Black specific headache.
“You don't study” Remus eyed him quizzically, his ebony hair more ruffled and fussed through as he sat down next to him.
“I do!”
“No you don't.”
Silence. Remus was staring at him, head cradled against his palm. Sirius glanced at him then at the tower of books. Remus spotted a divination book as he read along the spines of the tower. “I thought you hated potions.” Remus remarked casually making Sirius flinch as if he had been caught, as if he had just coincidentally wandered into the library, grabbed whatever book he could find to add to the already accumulating pile of books, like he was looking for some kind of excuse.
“well yes…but you love potions don't you moony?” Sirius asks perfect brow arched. Remus huffs out a small snort leans against his seat and runs a hand through his messy brown locks. “Perchance. However Lily is way more brilliant-”
“Teach me,” Sirius proclaimed loudly in a haughty tone and his sudden skittish demeanour completely vanished. With eyes narrowed and lips pursed in contemplation Remus glanced at him then at his coursework that he had yet to finish.
“And what's in it for me?” He mused.
“You can't just do it because I'm your best friend? And the fact that I'll flunk out if I fail the next test?” Sirius says with a bruised expression, Remus rolls his eyes at the others wounded puppy look. He knew for a fact that Sirius—despite disliking a lot of subjects—actually has a natural talent for perfecting them. He also knew that Sirius studies just as hard as all of them but he keeps that mask of ‘i didn't study at all' whenever anyone would ask him. So he knew that Sirius couldn't possibly be failing potions, his pride and ego wouldn't allow it.
“... what's in it for me Black?” Remus repeated his tone amused. Amused in the way Sirius rolled his eyes and let out a small huff of annoyance. Remus liked it when he didn't give Sirius what he wanted right away, there's a certain appeal to it.
“I won't drag you out of bed for the next two Quidditch matches.” tempting. But Remus simply remained silent, brow raised.
“I'll stop charming your things to disappear and reappear in different places” Remus bristled.
“Wait so that's why my quills ended up under Pete's bed-”
“Anyways-”
“If you want me to even have you sit next to me, you'd stop that” He threatens pointing his quill at Sirius, his only response was a bright grin showing pearly white teeth.
“Oh I know ! How about I treat you and the guys to butterbeer in hogsmeade?” Sirius suggested, his eyes sparkling at the idea and it made Remus’ heart clench painfully.
Ah yes, the infamous Hogsmeade trip was coming up. To Remus' dismay both James and Sirius wouldn't take him wanting to cozy up in bed with a book as an answer. At the others expecting look he gives a small sigh, saying a small goodbye to his self respect and silently acquiesces.
“Pull out the Potions textbook- no not like that-” He quickly stops Sirius from recklessly toppling the entire tower of books onto both of them.
“Alright Professor Lupin. Let's begin.” a grin and a small shove from Remus and the two finally started on their lesson.
It didn't even surprise Remus anymore. The soft snores that are barely even noticeable unless you listen in carefully, ebony locks splayed messily across the mahogany table, coursework and textbooks surrounded a sleeping Sirius 'just a few minute break’ Black. The two worked for a decent hour and a half before Sirius kindly asked (pleaded) for a break then proceeded to nap for the next twenty or so minutes leaving Remus in silence again.
Saved for the small intakes of air. Remus shouldn't have found it distracting. But when he found himself messing up simple arithmetics because of it he promptly pushed away his coursework and buried his head in his arms, his mind letting out a silent scream.
He was sure Sirius had planned this the entire damned time. He always had a knack for distracting Remus at the worst possible moment. He lifted his head slightly leaning it so that his cheek was against his arm and that he had a clear view of Sirius sleeping face.
In the dim light of the library the strands of his hair appeared like spilled ink draping his pale face. Remus admired him for a small moment. He looked peaceful, his brow relaxed, chest rising and falling rhythmically. Remus admired all the features he never got to because of his strict ‘don't get too close’ policy when it came to Sirius. But sleeping Sirius was different from awake Sirius so Remus made exceptions.
He moved just a tad bit closer.
Sirius had clear skin; he wondered how soft it'd feel under his skin. There were a couple moles littered here and there, under his eye, on his jawline, one on the apple of his cheek. The most shocking discovery is the barely there scar located over his brow.
Remus’ traitorous hand moved first tracing the contours of Sirius' face, his touch light and fleeting, a hair's breadth away from the others skin. He swallowed thickly, feeling his heart rise from its place in his ribcage all the way to his throat. His hand pulled away only for it to land on the soft wisps of inky locks, he pushed it back tucking it behind Sirius' ear.
He really wanted to kiss him.
He might just do it.
He stares long and hard at the others slightly parted lips. It was unfair at how pleasant they looked, almost tempting him to seal them with his own, just an innocent peck would send him overboard—heck even imagining kissing his best friend was enough to muddle his mind.
He takes his hand away gently and as soon as he does a sort of longing hits him. Longing to card his hands through the others hair, to caress his cheeks, to map the location of all his moles and burn them into his memory, to find out the scars that marred his skin and to show him his own ones.
He leans in.
skin meets skin. Warmth steeped in warmth.
His lips brushed against the other's forehead for a brief moment before he pulled away. Those brief moments felt like eternity, a thousand heartbeats expressed in a simple innocent peck.
Remus pulled away. His cheeks prickled with heat as he focused his attention back on his arithmetic homework, making it a point not to look at Sirius or even think of Sirius.
He missed the smallest quirk of lips and the hammering pulse of the ‘sleeping’ wizard beside him.
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Note: made it to the end? Have a cookie 🍪 the plot was non existent and I feel like I fudged up the pacing a bit TT? Can you tell I just wanted to write about the two of them TT (I might make this a mini series because I plan to write part two ! This time instead of names it's kisses mwhehehe so stay tuned for that one) 𐙚 reblogs, comments, and likes are always much appreciated.
The characters are from JK. Rowling's world, I don't associate myself with the author. © All rights reserved
Art: Anteyka (GUYS IF YOU KNOW THE ARTIST PLS DM ME. a Pinterest comment says it's them but I'm not 100% sure!)
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ink-stainedkiss · 1 day ago
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This isn't necessarily a request (unless you like the idea😍) but i am WEAK for saiki kusuo being happy and laughing, as ooc as it sounds IDC HES MY BABY AND HES HUMAN THEREOFRE I CONCLUDE THIS BOY CAN HAVE HIS DAILY DOSE OF GIGGLES.
Like, i read the fic you made on saiki finding readers thoughts funny, and i BAJDJSJAJDBS I SQUEALED.
Just imagining him breaking character, or AUDIBLY laughing, is so so sweet bro im not even joking. He'd only ever be comfortable doing it infront of his mom probably, or his close friends. EVEN SO.
Just needed to get it off my chest. 🙂 if you ever make more fics with happy/giggly saiki i might actually marry you. 🙂🙂🙂
This one goes specifically to you queen😍 and No. I’m going to marry you🫵😼
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Missing You
Synopsis: Saiki starts to feel a bit weird when you are out and he realizes he misses you. Now to find a way to get you home faster…
Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! I hope you all had a great time because I sure did. Sorry my activity has been a little slow these past days have been busier than expected, so this one’s going to be a bit short. Also thank you all for the likes on my later posts! It feels so amazing to see you guys enjoying my other works. Anyways, please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff of our beloved Saiki💕
“You on the phone”
“Saiki on the phone”
*Saiki is wearing his telepathy blocking ring in this, so he's speaking normally*
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.2k
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Everyone knew that Saiki was not a dependent person. He was the furthest thing from it. He loved his alone time- actually scratch that. He craved alone time. It was just his luck that he was always surrounded by people that caused him so much mental pain. To Saiki’s surprise, he had found someone he tolerated. Well it was more than that, but you guys were just friends, so he couldn’t say anything. He realized you were the only one that didn’t put Saiki through a problem which he had to solve. There were no long adventures when you talked to him in the halls. No using his powers to fix something you had done. He was able to act perfectly normal around you. Which is why he grew such an affection toward you. He grew so comfortable that he told you about his abilities and like he expected you took it well.
Today was one of his favorite days. Where he was able to hang around your home without a care in the world. Whatever his friends were up to outside of your house was not Saiki’s business, nor did he care about it. He had developed a routine when you text him to come over. He would arrive at your house, wear his germanium ring and let his worries wash away. It was the closest thing he could get to being a normal teenager and he was damn sure going to use his time wisely. Whenever Saiki stayed at your home, you would ask to do something, nothing crazy. Something simple like baking a batch of cookies, watching a movie on the couch, or if you were very bored, you would ask to do Saiki’s hair, which he never denied. Because, well, it was you. How could he say no?
Today was a bit different. You had mentioned you needed to run some errands and you promised you would back around noon. Saiki was fine with this since it meant he would have the house to himself. You trusted him greatly so you didn’t mind if he stuck around while you were out. When you left he gave a small nod and then the house was silent. Today was very different because something felt off. He had been reading a book on your shelf out of interest, but for the past five minutes, he had been rereading the same sentence over and over. Something was tugging in his head, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong.
Today was different because he felt so off without you in the same room as him. He checked the clock, realizing I had only been an hour and a half since you left. You wouldn’t be back until later, so Saiki had to find something to distract himself. Today was different because tried to cure his “boredom” with his powers. He turned on your kitchen sink, watching blankly as he made shapes and animals out of the liquid. When that didn’t stop the tugging, he moved onto your room. He felt slightly better resting on your bed and he played it off as being tired, but no. When he kept checking the clock to see if it was any closer to noon, he came to the horrifying conclusion that he missed you.
It was such a foreign feeling. Saiki? Wanting someone to be around him? Well that’s what happens when you sneak your way into his heart. The psychic couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his phone, clicking on your contact and placing the device to his ear. The small buzzing reached his ear and he felt a small fragment of relief when you answered after the second ring.
“Hey Saiki, what’s up?”
He sighed, a bit humiliated he felt this way.
“Nothing.”
“Then did you need something?”
“When are you going to be home?”
He said home like he lived here with you, but if you minded, you didn’t make it obvious.
“I should be there in maybe three hours.”
That did not help.
“Can you get here sooner?”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
Might as well since there isn’t anything else getting you here faster. Saiki thought.
A small gasp sounded through the speaker, “I thought you said nothing was happening?”
“Just get here fast.”
And with that he hung up the phone.
You raced to your house, hoping you wouldn’t find it in ashes or hit by a tornado. Maybe you were being dramatic, but why would Saiki call you and tell you to come home quickly? It was shocking that you didn’t get pulled over at the pace you were driving home. When you pulled onto your street, you were thankful to not see any smoke, but that didn’t make you slow down. You slammed to a stop in your driveway, panic flooding your veins. You unlocked your door at lightning speed and the second it was open, you called out,”I’m here! What happened?!”
You shut the door behind you, scanning for some sort of danger, but you find your house was still intact. You were so confused. You were expecting some sort of freak accident with Saiki’s powers, but everything was in place.
“Nothing wrong.”
You whipped around, finding Saiki had teleported behind you. You blinked in confusion,”What are you talking about? You told me to get here quick and I-“ “I lied.” Your arms dropped at your side in defeat,”Then why am I here right now?” He gave you an emotionless stare,”Because I wanted you to be.”
Still in shock, you looked around, finding a scattered book on your couch. It was odd because Saiki is always the one to be neat. You turned to the boy, noticing how he was hardly making eye contact with you and he clearly wanted to say more. You recalled his words over the phone, then it all clicked.
“Saiki,” your words were barely above a whisper,”Did you miss me?”
The things that happened next were a blur. In the blink of an eye two arms were wrapping around you and you could feel Saiki’s head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t respond to your question, but this was enough to answer it. Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Was this really the same Saiki? The one who barely let people stand close to him, was holding onto you like a lifeline. You felt a long sigh escape his lips and instinctively you reached one hand up to rest in his pink hair and the other embracing him over his shoulder.
“I didn’t know how else to get you here.” He confessed gently, making your heart melt,”You could have just asked, Kusuo.” He tucked himself more into your neck, almost hiding his face from you,”But you were busy.” You rolled your eyes, “It was just getting groceries, I would have dropped everything if I knew you wanted me here.”
Saiki didn’t know how to respond, instead he used his teleportation to take you both to your room. You let out a grunt as you back hit your mattress, but your attention changed to the boy resting on you. He looked so at peace and you couldn’t believe this was still the same person. (It’s not like you were complaining.) As you softly played with his pink hair, a small idea popped into your head. Maybe I should go out more often if this is what I get to come home too…
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yazzydream · 20 days ago
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Nobara picking out Yuji and Megumi’s outfits for the dinner cruise feels too in-character of her and I love it. 😆
She judges them so harshly. 😭😆
But Megumi didn't bother to answer her when she told them that she'd be picking their outfits, and Yuji was like, 'thanks! I'll leave it to you then!' 😂 So they're a match at least.
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demadogs · 11 months ago
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i always say i dont want a book to have a screen adaptation out of fear of them doing it dirty and then i think of the most perfect casting ever for the main character and im like FUCK now i wont sleep until i see this happen
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dawnthekitty · 2 days ago
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They are not punished for lack of empathy the way women are. Growing up there are so many expectations of caregiving and caring put on little girls. A woman that acts like a man is accused of being robotic, unfeeling, monstrous; sharklike, spider like, wrong.
This leads to women checking in with others far more often, even if only performatively, because being seen as uncaring has social consequences. Men are not subjected to this.
You wanna know the worst thing? Being seen as too caring is also wrong. We grow up in a rigged system where a woman is always not enough or too much so we spend years of our lives neurotically analyzing our surroundings, selves, and everyone around us because if we miss something and misstep EVERYONE comes down on us for not doing it perfectly. And even when we manage to pull it off, there is always going to be someone who says "This way would have been better." Always.
Men don't have to worry about that. The only thing they ever need to worry about is being perceived as weak. Not even being weak, just being perceived as weak. So as long as they come off as strong, as long as they can convince themselves that the imaginary audience in their heads thinks they're winning they are doing it right. So they can do the most fucked up shit imaginable as long as it means they 'win' and they never have to worry about inconsequential things like other people because no one has ever judged them and found them lacking, found them 'weak' of character, before so why would it matter now.
These behavior patterns are deeply ingrained in patriarchal societies. We do not know what a truly equal society would look like so socialization cannot be ruled out. There is not enough information to determine whether the fucked up crimes men commit are due to social or biological reasons. The only thing we can do is fight for wider acknowledgement of the data: men are commiting the majority of violent crimes. This needs to be studied and addressed as the pressing public safety issue it is. We can figure out why once governments and nonprofits are willing to address the issue.
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Men not being able to control themselves is false. They just don't think they need to. Men can wait to kidnap or fight a women, before raping them. They have control. Otherwise they would be running around with their dicks free begging for some.
Women/lesbians are taught to see others as humans.
The reason men rape and sexually harass women isn't bc they can't control themselves. The fact that they don't see women as humans and only potential hits or fuckable is, in itself the problem. It is not normal to be so porn driven.
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xenoshadow13 · 11 months ago
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Hey followers & moots, I have a little favor to ask of y'all! So see this dork of mine? If it's not too much trouble, could y'all draw him out in y'all style? Just really would like to see how Zephyr would look in other folks' art styles ok lol.
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Oh and art credit goes to Tanaka (@/TNKFNF on Twitter) & Lucks (@luckstergal), with the former having drawn this out while the latter colored it.
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idiaa-shroxd · 2 years ago
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YOUR WRITING IS SO PRETTY I COULD EAT IT. YOU CHARACTERIZE THE CHARACTERS SO WELL TOO!!!
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thank you so much!! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ happy you think my writing is very pretty!! and also makes me happy you think my characterization was correct.
when writing for characters always take a bit of extra time to ensure they sound good? thinking about having an actual conversation with them for a minute and what they’d do! ♧ personally a big fan of viginettes since that reveals a lot of a character more than mainstory.
Σ('◉⌓◉’) mini (huge) rant within the tags of the way of my process to understand a character!!
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#i’ve been trying to work on characterization with trey for example because in the main story he is relatively nice#but within his viginettes he’s a bit more than that like a slightly smug teaser than boy next door.#the characters tend to have complexity rather than one dimension traits people tend to stick by#which isn’t a bad thing but to start writing it could help kick you off but majority of the time your characters do have many emotions to#aspirations- such as vil being mean BUT that coming with subtle charm of care- he does not derive pleasure from purposefully degrading other#he firmly believes he can see the beauty in everyone if they try and he attempts to get others to apply themselves so they can be pretty#he does not go around like ew you’re ugly go away unless you have a negative attitude like leona who purposefully does not put any effort#but sometimes his pursuit for beauty can go out of hand like with epel or neige but his dorm ssr perfectly illustrates he knows what he does#he does not always explain himself with having epel do heavy lifting which only helps epel improve but he would not tell him this directly#there are other characters i can rant about the way i write. such as sebek being a malleus fanboy#but that was not a central part of his personality to warrant every fic just mentioning malleus each sentence#the best way to learn how to write for him would be looking at his viginette or his event story without tsunotarou!! he is quite a wonderful#-ly designed character but gets overlooked due to his ‘louder’ part of his personality. but he genuinely has captivated me as a character#the best examples for eng players would be during harveston- when he was extremely passionate about what he did with a soft side for his#plush!! he’s a big softie. he’s just very confused because his grandfather openly hates humans. he acknowledges marja and complimented her#he’s not hating humans for no reason but because it was taught to him. he’s trying his best to be what he is but you can tell he is not too#prideful that he would refuse to acknowledge marja just for being a human. in fact in his viginette he HELPS humans with their lumber#though that is technically due to him being confident he can do so compared to a human thanks to being a guard for Malleus but he is quite#happy to be complimented!!-. he is a character with more depth: ceremony viginette next#he tells yuu to just let him handle things since he’s stronger which shows he’s also blunt and says things without thinking about others at#times. but people are MISSING out on fics with sebek yuu and tea bonding over tsunotarou because he has no hostility to those who like#tsunotarou. he is happy to teach!! his other viginette think pe??: lilia tricks him into eating steak with yogurt iirc and he does honestly#it’s disgusting but he trusts lilia and 100% believe the old fae. THE POTENTIAL. authors need to use that?? just lilia messing with him or#how he can sometimes be so gullible you can get him to trust you mixed together with how attached he was to squirrel plush#he’s actually such a cute character.#there’s also Kalim who KNOWS there are bad people. he is not innocent as he knows there are bad people that want him gone#his least favorite food is curry because Jamil got sick for a week after taste testing his food.#Kalim just chooses. he wants to believe the kindness of the world not due to purity but due to the fact he does not want to live in constant#fear. which in itself already makes him more than one dimension. he may seem carefree but there’s room to play with when describing him??…#questions of styx.
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leatherbookmark · 2 years ago
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i quite wish slash hope jgy (i’m talking about him because he’s my #1 boy but this also goes for jc and xy and probably every character that inspires such takes) didn’t have the fandom just... regurgitating the most random takes and/or treating them as gospel and Such Good, Insightful Meta because it agrees with their Vibe Read of jgy, when said Vibe Read is 99% rooted in fandom and maybe 1% in zanzan’s evil smiles, and Very Little, If At All, rooted in the things that happen in canon.
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kayzero · 2 years ago
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“Xaldjn’s whole shtick is that he became a Nobody in order to avoid emotions — presumably some sort of heartbreak. Unlike the rest of the Organization, who talk about how much they want a heart, Xaldin actively dismisses having a heart. He hates the concept of love because he was unable to experience it. When he sees a literal Beast — a creepy buffalo monster — experiencing love, the thing he is unable to experience, it bothers him and he becomes obsessed with trying to ruin it.”
—Regular Pat, “Ranking EVERY Day in Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days” (https://youtu.be/-dGAOnIcCeg)
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i need to remember to do something with this when i have the opportunity, this is an angst GOLDMINE
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235uranium · 5 months ago
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god I love third sem so much. it's insane how well done it is like I think it's some of the best writing in p5 and it's a fucking addition
#☢️.txt#roz replays p5r#like. having played thru the plot of vanilla and having been a vanilla fan who was mostly satisfied with the ending#(sans akechi)#maruki as a character really adds to the game in ways that i didnt even realize would work. i dont understand when people say his shtick#doesnt fit with the og themes! theyre perfect for it what!!!#p5 has always been about standing against the norm and believing that its possible for society to be changed by the people#maruki fits into that *perfectly* and having the dilemma that he's genuinely a good person doing horrific things?#now that is something i wanted bc i felt p5 could benefit from some stronger moral ambiguity#but they pull it off so fucking well. especially with how they contrast maruki and akechi's worldviews#with akechi adamantly believing in the free will of a society he doesnt care for and that destroyed his conscious#while maruki doesnt give a shit about free will if it means he can save everyone from an unjust fate#akechi is the thief who benefits the most from maruki's reality AND he's the one who rejects it the strongest#i also love sumire. i do wish she got a lot more screentime + i feel bad that her palace got taken over by akechi being akechi#but i think she's a great character and again. adds a perspective to the game we didnt previously have#she had a mostly decent life. she has a loving family who did everything they could to support her.#she was STILL mentally ill and got taken advantage of by an adult everyone trusts. even when everyone learns what maruki did#they struggle to reconcile it because he's a good person. and sumire struggles with it so much.#i wish they let her get angry but also its like 3 weeks
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fragmentedblade · 6 months ago
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I hate that when I look up the "Kalpas" tag here there's me and then there's me again, but on another blog. Fake moustache me
#And then there's a lot of spam for some reason and from time to time HSR people#but as a reference to that one Black Swa.n video‚ nothing to do with HI3 Kalpas#I talk too much#Mei went to talk to him and Kalpas sent her to ask Sakura instead and it made me want to jump off a cliff#Everything they say and don't say in reference to each other and even when it doesn't look directly about each other is so good and charged#I love the fact they despite how Mei gets along best with Sakura probably out of anyone else in the Flame Chasers#she finds Kalpas more approachable and more 'useful' to direct her questions to#given Sakura uses vague metaphors to reply while Kalpas‚ if he replies‚ is very direct#That's something that I noticed pretty early on playing Elysian Realm and that is the seed of why I came to like him so much#How ironically trustworthy and honest and... gentle he is. How ironically he was one of the FCs that gave the least amount of red flags#And how once one learnt to manage him he was actually quite easy to deal with and trustworthy in what to expect#How if he said something it would be the truth‚ no mincing#and if he didn't want to share something he wouldn't beat around the bush about it either#I didn't have much expectations about this but I love how they have steadily constructed this facet of him and him in general as a character#and his dynamics around this idea. It's truly at his core. How Elysia says he always keeps his word even if it costs him great effort#but also always expects the same or the other. How that works with Sakura. How he's loud and direct and she is silent and hides so much#yet they know and understand and get each other. How they work together. How they have conversations in which they don't utter#but the half of it yet they both know what they're talking about perfectly and know the reasons as well as the reason for the absences#I found Sakura quite bland due to how this reflects on her individually and I found Kalpas at the very beginning very annoying for the same#but the mix of both their characters and how they work together is wonderful. It's truly a joy to see how they work together#and I love how evocative of their working together in missions it could get. But even beyond that. Just. As people#Normal people regarded as monsters and othered‚ so very shy and alienated‚ just talking. Being normal with each other#Because they were and they regarded the other as such. But also knew they weren't and thus why they could understand#Sakura says they didn't really go into all that many missions together but they did talk. And you see them and you understand#Or course you did. Bet it was soft and pleasant and half a silence. Everything direct but also half absence#Like many of their interactions in ER‚ about nothing important and about everything that matters#Half direct half absence like how Sakura went herself to see what was going on in that town and Kalpas asks#Like Kalpas still fumes about not being told when she decided to escape with Rin and now offers but doesn't say why straight away#'Kalpas is back' and everyone shuts up in fear‚ but he comes back and talks with Sakura and his voice doesn't boil#It's calm and even playful. Makes me wonder about their conversations. Makes me wonder about Rin. I love how they are constructed
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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misunderstood hero with a heart of gold - mv1
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summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before
word count: 8.2k + social media posts
folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Max Verstappen was bored.
It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.
He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.
After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.
A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."
Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.
The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"
Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.
"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."
Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.
"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."
Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.
"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"
Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.
"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."
Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.
"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."
Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.
"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."
Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.
With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.
When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.
"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."
Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.
"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."
Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.
"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."
Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.
As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.
After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.
As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.
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liked by username1, username2 and 10,725 others
f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”
Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭
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username1 HES SOOOOO
username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭
username3 he looks so pretty tho
username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU
username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers
username6 HES SO RANDOM
username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples
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liked by username1, username2 and 102,438 others
ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?
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username1 YES QUEEN
username2 that max comment was so random but so real
username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card
username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you
username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES
username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun
username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion
maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks
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f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !
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username1 BABYYYY
username2 max ??? bookshop ????
username3 WHAT SHIFTED
username4 he thought it was jimmyz
username5 HEELPP what is he doing there
username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books
↳ username1 FOR REAL???
↳ username2 max said book girl summer
↳ username3 this is so random
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If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.
As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.
Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.
As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.
Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.
He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.
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Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.
"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"
Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."
"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.
Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.
"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"
"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"
"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"
Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"
Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."
"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."
Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.
"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."
They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.
As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.
"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"
"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"
Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."
"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.
Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"
He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.
Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.
"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."
"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"
Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."
"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.
"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.
"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"
"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."
"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."
"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.
Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.
"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."
"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."
"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."
"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."
Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"
Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?
"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.
Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.
"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.
After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.
As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.
Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?
He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.
Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.
Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 286,375 others
ynreadsbooks this week’s video will be delayed for some ~personal reasons ☺️
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username1 GIRL
username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING
username3 f1 x books this is literally me
username4 hot girls support max verstappen
username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan
username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭
redbullracing We can’t wait 💙
↳ username1 REDBULL???
↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER
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As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.
The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.
But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.
The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.
As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.
Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.
Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.
As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"
Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.
"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"
Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"
"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"
"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."
"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."
"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.
"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"
Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."
With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.
Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.
After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.
As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.
She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.
He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.
Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"
She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"
They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.
"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."
He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.
They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.
As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.
"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."
Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.
"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."
"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."
"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."
"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"
Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"
"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"
As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.
"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."
YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."
They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.
"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."
"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."
They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.
"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."
"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."
They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.
"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."
Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.
"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."
"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."
"Everything happens for a reason, right?"
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ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 no one deserved this more than her for real
username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED
redbullracing Come back soon! 😉
username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport
username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG
username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill
↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion
↳ username1 WTF
↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video
danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀
↳ username3 how do i sign up for this
username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED
maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️
↳ username1 OMG MAX
↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her
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maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡
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username1 KIIING
username2 how can a man be so babygirl
username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2
danielricciardo 🦁🦁
landonorris Simply lovely
↳ username1 menace
username4 bro who got you smiling like that
ynreadsbooks ❤️
↳ username2 biggest max girlie
↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG
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When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.
Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.
He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.
As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.
Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.
Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.
"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.
"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"
"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."
YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"
"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."
"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"
"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."
"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."
They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.
"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."
"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.
Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"
"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"
Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.
"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"
The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?
YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."
Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."
YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."
Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.
"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."
He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.
"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."
As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.
YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."
Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.
"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."
"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.
"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."
"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."
"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."
As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.
He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?
The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.
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The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.
In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.
The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.
As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.
Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.
"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.
"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."
Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."
"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."
"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."
Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"
Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.
"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."
"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.
"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"
"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."
"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."
Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.
As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.
Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.
YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.
Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.
"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.
"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"
Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.
"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."
As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."
"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.
As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."
YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."
Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."
As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.
Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."
She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."
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username1 AWEEE
username2 those are cute kittens
username3 those look like max verstappen's cats
username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??
↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be
danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble
↳ username2 HOLD ON??
↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅
↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??
↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...
↳ username1 OMFGGG
↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST
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Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.
True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.
The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.
They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.
Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.
What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.
As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.
When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.
The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.
Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.
YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"
Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"
YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.
Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.
Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."
YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"
"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."
A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.
As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.
In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.
He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.
"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."
She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."
As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.
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username1 GIRL
username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY
username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this
username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭
username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO
username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?
username7 she just had a book and a dream fr
landonorris Has he bored you yet?
↳ username1 IM DYING
↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle
↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉
↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️
↳ landonorris I'm disgusted
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As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.
For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.
Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.
As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.
Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.
"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."
Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."
"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"
Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."
YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"
"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."
"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"
"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.
"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."
Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."
As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.
YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.
The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.
When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."
Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"
"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."
"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."
With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.
When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.
"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."
YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."
Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."
"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."
"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."
YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."
Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.
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The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.
"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.
Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."
When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.
In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.
Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.
Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.
"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."
Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.
"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."
They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.
YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"
"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.
She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."
"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."
Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"
Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.
"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"
"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."
"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."
Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"
Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.
"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."
Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.
As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.
He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.
Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.
"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"
Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."
He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.
Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.
"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.
Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"
YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."
Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."
Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."
The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.
When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.
"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."
YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.
"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"
YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."
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