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While we’re on the subject of names, is there an explanation for how traditional nicknames came about that are seemingly unrelated to, or have little in common with, the original name?
ie- John/Jack, Richard/Dick, Henry/Harry/Hank, Charles/Chuck, Margaret/Peggy/Daisy, Sarah/Sally, Mary/Molly, Anne/Nan, etc
I am actually over a week into researching a huge follow-up post (probably more than one if I’m being honest) about the history of nickname usage, so I will be going into this in much, much more detail at a hopefully not-so-later date - if I have not lost my mind. (Two days ago I spent three hours chasing down a source lead that turned out to be a typographical error from 1727 that was then quoted in source after source for the next 150 years.)
As a preview though, here’s some info about the names you mentioned:
The origins of a good portion of common English nicknames come down to the simple fact that people really, really like rhyming things. Will 🠞Bill, Rob🠞Bob, Rick🠞Dick, Meg🠞Peg.
It may seem like a weird reason, but how many of you have known an Anna/Hannah-Banana? I exclusively refer to my Mom’s cat as Toes even though her name is Moe (Moesie-Toesies 🠞 Toesies 🠞 Toes).
Jack likely evolved from the use of the Middle English diminutive suffix “-chen” - pronounced (and often spelled) “-kyn” or “kin”. The use of -chen as a diminutive suffix still endures in modern German - as in “liebchen” = sweetheart (lieb “love” + -chen).
John (Jan) 🠞 Jankin 🠞 Jackin 🠞 Jack.
Hank was also originally a nickname for John from the same source. I and J were not distinct letters in English until the 17th Century. “Iankin” would have been nearly indistinguishable in pronunciation from “Hankin” due to H-dropping. It’s believed to have switched over to being a nickname for Henry in early Colonial America due to the English being exposed to the Dutch nickname for Henrik - “Henk”.
Harry is thought to be a remnant of how Henry was pronounced up until the early modern era. The name was introduced to England during the Norman conquest as the French Henri (On-REE). The already muted nasal n was dropped in the English pronunciation. With a lack of standardized spelling, the two names were used interchangeably in records throughout the middle ages. So all the early English King Henrys would have written their name Henry and pronounced it Harry.
Sally and Molly likely developed simply because little kids can’t say R’s or L’s. Mary 🠞 Mawy 🠞 Molly. Sary 🠞 Sawy 🠞 Sally.
Daisy became a nickname for Margaret because in French garden daisies are called marguerites.
Nan for Anne is an example of a very cool linguistic process called rebracketing, where two words that are often said/written together transfer letters/morphemes over time. The English use of “an” instead of “a” before words beginning with vowels is a common cause of rebracketing. For example: the Middle English “an eute” became “a newt”, and “a napron” became “an apron”. In the case of nicknames the use of the archaic possessive “mine” is often the culprit. “Mine Anne” over time became “My Nan” as “mine” fell out of use. Ned and Nell have the same origin.
Oddly enough the word “nickname” is itself a result of rebracketing, from the Middle English “an eke (meaning additional) name”.
I realized earlier this week that my cat (Toe’s sister) also has a rebracketing nickname. Her name is Mina, but I call her Nom Nom - formed by me being very annoying and saying her name a bunch of time in a row - miNAMiNAMiNAM.
Chuck is a very modern (20th century) nickname which I’ll have to get back to you on as I started my research in the 16th century and am only up to the 1810s so far lol.
#names#nicknames#onomastics#history#asks#nicknames are really hard to research you guys#there is so much info out there and it's almost all nonsense#and I'm talking academic books with listed sources not buzzfeed listicles#some guy in the 18th century forgetting to mention Bill on a list of common nicknames does not mean it wasn't in use at the time ma dude#i've had to get very creative with sources#god bless word for word murder trial testimony
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stickwitu ⟢ LN4
part two of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part two part three
PAIRING: lando norris x female!asian!reader
SUMMARY: despite coming from a very wealthy and deeply-rooted traditional background—where family always comes first, your relationship with lando is fully embraced by most of your family, though the very complex dynamics of old-money family expectations often creates tension, causing lando to rethink everything.
REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, minor mention of violence (punching), traditional family, google translated chinese, crazy rich asian inspired + plot, heiress reader, named character (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), asian culture & tradition, social status, high society, brief mentions of verbal abuse, anxiety, overthinking, and minor typographical errors.
WORD COUNT: 20.4k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, before anything else, i wanted to say first and foremost that i’m asian (southeast girlie), so i’m not asian baiting 🥹 and i have many chinese friends to the point i’m familiar with their culture and tradition, but mostly the reference is from and follows the plot line of crazy rich asians—which is my fav book trilogy, but i also did insert my own preference and did my research so that i can properly write this fic better. this is a long fic, bc i added as much details as i could and this is not even finished yet, i still have 2-3 parts in my draft, but somehow i’m satisfied with the end, but let me know if you want me to continue this one. your comment/reblogs is very highly appreciated. okay, that’s enough yapping for me, i hope you’ll enjoy reading this!
You had just touched down in Dubai, the December heat had brushed against your skin as you stepped outside the terminal. It had been a hectic week—first, spending time in Switzerland with your family, soaking in the peacefulness of the snowy countryside, and now, diving headfirst into the chaos of Abu Dhabi for the final race of the 2024 season.
Honestly, there wasn’t much time to catch your breath. The car was already waiting for you to drive you to the circuit, while your bags will be brought to the hotel. You had reserved a separate room just in case, but knowing Lando, you both can sort out the details later when you return for the evening.
The drive to Yas Marina Circuit was uneventful, the familiar mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in your chest. Lando had texted you earlier, letting you know he was already in the McLaren garage preparing for the qualifying session. He knew your schedule had been tight and didn’t mind that you were running late, as long as you made it in time. Lando also mentioned you would be watching the session with his family—Cisca, Adam, and his youngest sister Cisca, who shared her mother’s name.
Once you arrived at the paddock, you pulled out the lanyard holding your pass, the one Lando had sent ahead before your trip to Switzerland. It had been very thoughtful of him to arrange everything in advance, ensuring your arrival would be seamless. As you walked through the entrance, you felt the familiar surge of attention—cameras flashing, fans calling out for you. Despite having attended very few races this season, you still weren’t used to the buzz surrounding the wags.
Fans of Lando waved enthusiastically as you made your way through the paddock, and you waved back shyly with a polite smile. A few asked for photos, and you happily obliged, pausing briefly for snapshots with those who looked the most excited. Some handed you small gifts like friendship bracelets, bucket hats, and a few letters addressed to Lando.
“We made these for him! Can you please give them to him?” one of the fans asked eagerly.
“I’ll make sure that he gets them.” you promised, and carefully tucking the items in one of the tote bags, then the fans thanked you profusely.
As you continued your way toward the McLaren garage, you spotted a familiar figure—Kym Illman, camera in hand. Kym had always been kind to you, and the two of you had exchanged pleasantries during the previous races. He raised his camera and motioned towards you with a questioning look, silently asking for permission to take a photo of you. Unsure of how to pose, you gave a small, slightly awkward smile. At that moment, a gentle breeze swept through the paddock, catching your hair perfectly. Kym lowered the camera and grinned, giving you a thumbs-up.
“It is a very beautiful shot.” he said as you passed by.
“Thank you.” you replied with a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
The McLaren garage wasn’t far now. The hum of engines, faint smell of rubber, and buzz of team radios filled the air as you approached. You hoped to catch Lando before the qualifying session began.
When you arrived at the McLaren garage, the whole place was in full swing—mechanics fine tuning the car, and engineers analyzing the datas. Despite only attending a handful of races this season, the whole team knew exactly who you were. Smiles greeted you from all corners, with some of the team members even giving you a playful thumbs-up.
“Look who’s here! Lando’s lucky charm.” one of the members teased, earning a chorus of lighthearted laughs from the surrounding crew.
You couldn’t help but smile at the nickname that you had heard before. It seemed that your presence at races had coincided with Lando’s wins throughout the season—Miami, Netherlands, and Singapore. The whole McLaren team had adopted the idea that you brought him good fortune.
“I’m not sure about that,” you replied modestly and smiled, holding up the tote bag filled with letters and small gifts. “But I do come bearing express mail for Lando.”
The team chuckled at your remark, their fondness for you were really evident. One of the mechanics had jokingly asked if Lando had hired you as his personal courier, but before you could respond, you saw Jon calling out to him.
Lando was standing a few feet away, deep in conversation with one of the mechanics. At the mention of your arrival, his head turned instantly, and his face lit up in recognition. He strode over quickly, his race suit tied casually at his waist and his fireproofs clinging to his frame. Lando’s smile was warm and genuine as he closed the gap between you.
“You made it.” he said, tone laced with a mixture of relief and happiness.
“I did,” you replied, smiling back at him. “Sorry for cutting it so close.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Lando assured you, his voice soft. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”
“Is that…?” he added and squinted.
“Your fans’ stuff,” you confirmed with a grin. “Letters, drawings, maybe some snacks. They handed it over on my way here, and I promised that I’ll get them to you.”
Lando chuckled, the sound warm and relaxed. “Of course they did. Thanks for bringing it.”
“Anytime,” you smiled, and shifted the conversation. “Where’s your family? I should head over to them before quali starts.”
“They’re just outside,” he said, nodding towards the outside. “They’re excited to see you again, especially C. She’s been asking about you since Zandvoort.”
Lando’s fondness for his younger sister was clear in his tone, and it always made you smile. Before you could respond, one of the staff approached Lando, telling him that it was time to start gearing up.
“Here, I’ll help you.” you said as you stepped closer to Lando.
You instinctively reached for the half of his race suit, helping him pull the fabric up to secure it over his shoulders. You made sure that every strap and seam was in place, your fingers moving with practiced precision. You double checked the straps on his HANS device, ensuring everything was in place.
“Strapped in and ready to go.” you said softly, fingers brushing his shoulder as you stepped back.
Lando didn’t move away immediately. Instead, his hands found your waist, his touch was light but grounding. He leaned in slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar warmth.
“Kiss for luck?” he asked, tone a little bit playful but sincere.
You happily obliged, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. As you pulled back, you added a second kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a moment longer.
“Good luck out there, my champ.” you whispered.
Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“Stay close, okay?” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the garage noise. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” you smiled as you caressed his back softly. “Be safe out there, okay?”
You gently tapped his back to let him know it was time to go. Lando straightened up, giving you one last lingering look before heading towards his car. Jon appeared at your side, ready to escort you to where his family was waiting.
“Come on,” Jon said with a smile. “Let’s get you settled.” He led the way and you followed.
As you followed Jon, the faint hum of conversation and the clinking of tools fading into the background, he glanced at you with a warm smile.
“It’s good to see you again,” Jon said, tons light and genuine. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
You nodded, returning his smile. “It has. The last time was Singapore, I think?”
“That sounds about right,” Jon agreed, then chuckled softly. “You know, Lando’s been counting down the days since you told him you’d be here. He hasn’t shut up about it.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at what he said, a mix of amusement and affection spreading across your face. “Has he, now?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Jon continued, a teasing glint evident in his eyes. “The second he got that text from you, he was grinning like a kid on christmas morning. Every day after that, it was, ‘Do you think she’s really coming? What if she missed my race?’”
You smiled fondly. “I told him I’d be here today, no matter what. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Jon nodded, his expression softening. “He knows that. Lando just really missed you, I think the last few weeks have felt longer than usual for him.”
There was this warmth that you began to feel in your chest, and you glanced down for a moment, feeling a bit shy under Jon’s kind gaze.
“I’ve missed him, too. It’s been a very busy year for the both of us.” you sighed.
Jon nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. Between your work and everything with your family, it must feel like you’re always being pulled in a hundred different directions.”
You let out yet again another small sigh, pace slowing just slightly as you responded. “It does get a bit overwhelming sometimes. My family always has something going on, and as the only daughter, well…let’s just say there are certain expectations.”
To those people who truly know you, there is no denying that you were born into a world of luxury and expectations, where wealth was not merely a privilege but a legacy. To the public eye, you are known simply as Lando Norris’ girlfriend, the quiet yet sophisticated partner of the Formula 1 star. A strikingly gorgeous young woman whose life seemed to orbit the vibrant universe of the McLaren driver. But to these people who moved in the shadows of high society, those who deeply understood the intricate web of power and legacy within Asia’s upper echelons, knew better.
You were an heiress to two of the most prominent and affluent families in Southeast Asia. A woman born not merely into massive wealth, but into legacy, responsibility, and the unrelenting expectations of old money.
Your father’s family were the pinnacle of Singapore’s old money elite. Their fortune, amassed over generations through banking, real estate, trade, and monopoly of palm oil, it had not only survived but flourished in the modern era. Your mother’s lineage, although equally stories and affluent, paled in comparison to the vast empire your father’s family presided over.
You were born the youngest and only daughter in a family dominated by male cousins and brothers, an anomaly in a lineage often associated with patriarchal values. This made you a darling in your grandmother’s eyes, a singular beacon of grace and femininity in a sea of potential heirs. They adored you, lavishing you with attention and grooming you from a young age to carry the family’s mantle with such poise.
Your life was a delicate balancing act. While your family taught you to embrace privilege, they instilled in you a deep understanding of responsibility. Money was not to be spent flippantly, power was not to be flaunted, and fame was to be avoided unless it served a greater purpose. Unlike some of your cousins—whose reckless behavior often flirted with scandal and making their privilege a playground, you were a model of decorum. Never appeared in any tabloid headlines, never indulged in public extravagance, and always carried yourself with the grace befitting a young woman of your stature.
He tilted his head sympathetically. “And you balance all of that on top of everything else? No wonder Lando’s so proud of you.”
Jon’s words had caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. “He said that?”
“All the time,” Jon replied, his smile never fading. “He brags about you more than you probably realize. How hardworking you are, how you always seem to manage everything with such grace. Lando’s your biggest fan, you know.”
The sincerity in Jon’s voice brought a soft smile to your lips. “That really means a lot.”
“Well, it’s true,” Jon said simply. Then, with a gentle nudge towards ahead, he added, “and speaking of people who adore you, Lando’s family is just up there. I know they’ve been really looking forward to seeing you too.”
You glanced toward the familiar faces waiting to see you again in the designated seating area, feeling a wave of warmth and comfort at the sight.
“Thank you, Jon.” You said, tone sincere.
“Anytime,” he replied, stepping aside to let you continue forward. “Enjoy the qualifying, and don’t stress out too much, he’ll do great, especially with you here.”
You gave him a grateful nod before making your way towards Lando’s family. After the little talk you had with Jon, it made you feel a sense of calm as the conversation replayed in your mind.
As soon as you stepped into the designated seating area, Cisca—Lando’s youngest sister, spotted you and she smiled instantly. Her face broke into a wide smile, and before you could say a word, she was already rushing towards you, arms outstretched.
“You’re here!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms tightly around you. “I’ve missed you so much!”
You laughed softly, hugging her back just as tight. “I’ve missed you too, C! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”
She pulled back slightly, still holding onto your hands as her eyes sparkled with excitement. “It has been forever! The last time was in the Netherlands, right? That was ages ago!”
“It really was,” you agreed, nodding. “How have you been? How’s everything at uni?”
Her expression turned slightly more serious, though her enthusiasm didn’t dissipate. “Busy, but good. I’ve been swamped with assignments, but it’s not too bad. It’s so nice to take a break and be here for the weekend.”
You smiled. “I’m glad you could come, I’ve missed seeing you so much.”
Cisca’s grin widened, and she squeezed your hands again. “It’s not the same without you here. Oh!” Her expression shifted slightly, as if she had just remembered something. “Flo couldn’t make it, though. She’s stuck in the UK with work stuff. She’s really sad about missing this race.”
Your shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. “Oh no, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing her too.”
“She said she’ll definitely call you, though!” Cisca assured you. “And she made me promise to give you a big hug from her, so—” she threw her arms around you again, squeezing dramatically.
You laughed, hugging her back. “Well, make sure to tell her I missed her too, okay?”
“Will do,” Cisca said brightly, looping her arm through yours. “Come on, Mum and Dad have been dying to see you.”
She guided you toward the rest of the family, where Adam and Cisca—Lando’s mother, were seated. The moment they saw you, their faces lit up with happiness, and they both stood up to greet you.
“Finally!” Cisca said, pulling you into a warm hug. “It’s been far too long, dear. How have you been?”
You smiled, returning her embrace. “I’ve been good, just keeping busy as usual. It’s so nice to see you again, though. I’ve missed you all.”
Adam was next, wrapping you in his own hug. “We’ve missed you too,” he said with genuine warmth. “It’s not often we get to catch up with you these days.”
“I know,” you said, pulling back to look at them. “It’s been way too long. How have you all been?”
“Busy as always,” Cisca replied, her tone light. “But we’ve been keeping up with Lando and with you, whenever he mentions you. He’s been so excited for you to be here this weekend.”
You smiled shyly, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. “I’ve been looking forward to it, too. It’s such a big weekend for him, and I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything.”
“Exactly what he said about you coming,” Adam added, his smile deepening. “You’ve always been his lucky charm, you know.”
Your cheeks warmed at Adam’s comment. Cisca then motioned for everyone to sit back down. “Let’s sit and catch up before things get underway.”
Settling into the seat they saved for you, and the conversation began flowing naturally as they asked how you had been, about your family, and how your trip to Abu Dhabi had been so far. Their genuine interest made you feel at home, easing any nervousness you had felt earlier.
The qualifying had soon started, you could hear the roar of the engines and the buzz of the crowd filled the air as the qualifying session began, and you could not ignore the nervous energy swirling inside you. You are sitting with Lando’s family, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you watch the screens displaying the lap times. Every sector Lando completed brought a new wave of anticipation.
Adam leaned closer to you, his voice low but reassuring. “He’s doing well, isn’t he? Look at those times.”
You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the screen. “He is, but it’s so close. Ferrari’s right there.”
Lando’s little sister gripped your arm excitedly. “Don’t worry, he’s got this. He’s been in such good form all weekend, he always does better when you’re here.”
You gave her a small smile, her confidence was comforting. “I hope so. This race means so much for McLaren, and for him.”
When Lando crossed the line with the fastest time in the final moments of Q3, the garage erupted in cheers. His name flashed at the top of the leaderboard, with Oscar right behind him in P2. A front-row lockout for McLaren for tomorrow’s main race. Relief and pride washed over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.
“He did it!” Cisca cheered, jumping out of her seat. She hugged you. “You must be so proud of him.”
“I am.” You admitted softly, your voice filled with emotions.
Adam stood up, motioning for everyone to head down the barricades. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him.”
All of you made your way through the bustling paddock and found a spot at the side of the parc fermé, where Lando and Oscar had already parked their cars. Lando had just stepped out of his car, removing his helmet and running a hand through his damp curls. You could see the exhilaration on his face as he congratulated Oscar, the two exchanging words and pats on the back.
The media reporter quickly surrounded Lando for a post-qualifying interview. You waited patiently, your heart swelling with pride as you watched him speak confidently. His excitement was contagious, and you yourself couldn't stop smiling.
As soon as his interview wrapped up, his mother called out to him. “Lando!”
The reporter gestured toward the barricade where you and his family stood. Lando’s eyes immediately found you, his face lighting up even more. Without any hesitation, he walked over.
“Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad.” he greeted, pulling both of his parents into a hug. Adam clapped him on the back proudly.
“Well done, son!” Adam said. “That was brilliant.”
“Thanks dad.” Lando replied, grinning.”
Lando then turned towards his younger sister, who threw her arms around him. “Pole position! You’re amazing!”
He laughed, hugging her tightly. “Thanks, Cis. I couldn’t let you down, could I?”
Finally, his gaze landed on you. Lando’s smile softened, and stepped towards, wrapping his arms around you without a word. You felt his body relax against your as you hugged him back, fingers lightly brushing the back of his neck.
“Congratulations, my love.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise around you.
Lando didn’t reply immediately, he just held you tighter, his face buried in the crook of your neck. The embrace lingered, and you heard his younger sister and mother giggling beside you.
“You two are so cute!” his younger sister teased.
Cisca was also quick to join. “Stay just like that for a second.”
You heard a faint sound of a camera click and already knew that she had taken a photo. Lando finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hand resting on your waist.
“Thanks for being here,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “It means everything.”
You smiled, brushing a stray curl off his forehead. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”
Lando leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
Before you could let out a response, a team member called for Lando, reminding him that he needed to go and receive the pole position award.
“Go,” you said softly, giving him an encouraging nod. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
He smiled and gave your waist a quick and gentle squeeze. Lando turned and jogged towards Oscar, where they walked together to receive their award, leaving you with his family, who were all grinning from ear to ear.
Later that evening, you all went out for dinner. The dinner with Lando’s family was warm and celebratory, one that’s filled with laughter and easy conversation. After the plates were cleared and goodbyes exchanged, you and Lando made your way back to the hotel, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, guiding you towards the car.
The car ride back to the hotel was quiet, a comfortable silence that comes after a day full of emotions and celebration. Lando’s hand rested lightly on your knee, his thumb gently tracing small circles through the fabric of your skirt. He glanced at you, expression soft and content.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low and warm.
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.”
Lando smiled back, squeezing your knee lightly. “I’m glad that you were here, though. Made everything all better.”
When you arrived at the hotel, the soft hum of classical music played in the background, and you approached the concierge desk to sort out your room. Lando stood beside you, both hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, watching as you spoke with the staff.
“Hello, good evening,” you began politely, offering a small smile. “I’d like to make a change to my booking. I’ll be staying with him instead.” You gestured toward Lando, who gave the concierge a friendly nod.
The concierge returned your smile. “Of course, Miss. Let me pull up your reservation.”
As the staff worked, Lando leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing as he put an arm around your waist, pulling you gently towards him. “You could’ve just stayed with me from the start, you know. No need for all this extra work.”
You turned to him with a small smirk. “I didn’t want to assume, Mr. Norris. What if you wanted your own space to focus?”
Lando chuckled, his hand gently squeezed your waist. “You’re my focus, you should already know that by now.”
The concierge handed you a confirmation slip, smiling as they spoke. “It’s all sorted, Miss. We’ve removed the extra booking, and your luggage will be sent up to the suite shortly. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that’s perfect. Thank you so much.” You said.
His hand made its way to your lower back, as he began guiding you towards the elevators. “Shall we?”
You both made your way up in the elevator, the quiet hum of the machinery filling up the silence. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to your floor. Lando led the way to the suite, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. The room was spacious and luxurious, with a view of the glittering Dubai skyline. Your luggage was already neatly placed near the wardrobe.
Lando removed his shoes and tossed them off somewhere in the room, and turned to you. “Home for the night.” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
You smiled, stepping further into the room. “Not bad for a last minute arrangement.”
“Nothing but only the best for you.” he grinned. Lando wasted no time tossing himself onto the bed. “Finally. This bed feels like heaven.”
You set your bag gently on the table and slipped off your heels, wincing slightly as your feet adjusted. Lando peeked up from the pillow, watching you with a soft smile.
“Come here,” he said, stretching out his arms towards you, voice laced with exhaustion but still soft. “I need you.”
You chuckled at his eagerness, but the invitation was too tempting to resist. Padding over to the bed, you climbed gently beside him, and when you settled in, his arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you flush against him.
Lando buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin as his fingers idly traced patterns along your waist. The weight of his embrace was grounding, and you both simply stayed there, enveloped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
For a moment, neither of you had said anything. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional sound of his breathing. It was a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of his race weekend.
“So,” he began, pressing little kisses on your shoulders. “How was Switzerland? Did you have fun?”
“I did, and it was wonderful. Dad was asking about you, actually.” you said.
“Oh?” Lando’s tone lifted with interest. “What did he say?”
You smiled faintly. “He wanted to know when you’d be joining us again because, and I quote, ‘I need someone under forty to keep me entertained on the golf course.’”
Lando chuckled. “I’ll need to work on my swing. Your dad takes it so seriously, and I can’t embarrass myself again.”
You laughed, the memory of their last game played in your mind. “He still talks about the time you hit the ball into the lake.”
“Hey, that was a strategic move,” Lando teased, tightening his arms around you slightly. “But it’s good to know that you had fun. What else did you do?”
You sighed, tone shifting slightly. “I got to see my nieces and nephews. They’ve all grown so much, it’s crazy how time flies.”
Lando tilted his head, sensing the change in your voice. “But?”
You hesitated, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “It’s just, it felt different. Alexander wasn’t there.”
He did not say anything, not interrupting and letting you speak your thoughts as he held you close.
“It doesn’t feel right, you know?” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “The family’s not complete without him. It’s been years, but every time we’re all together, his absence is so obvious and I fucking hate it.”
Lando kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he softly said. “I know how much that hurts you.”
You nodded, eyes closing as you let yourself feel the comfort of his presence. “I just wish things could go back to how they were before. But I know that’s impossible.”
“He’s my brother, you know? No matter what happened with my Dad, he’s still family. It just feels so unfair, like he was cut out of all of our lives over something he couldn’t control.” you continued. “I don’t know, it’s just hard. Being with everyone in Switzerland reminded me how much I miss him.”
Your father’s family were notorious for their obsession with discretion. Your father had made it abundantly clear that the family name was sacrosanct, a legacy to be protected no matter what cost. Scandals—no matter how small, were intolerable, and your upbringing reflected this philosophy. Among your siblings, the family dynamic had always been a complex one, you and your three older brothers were raised with a rigid sense of propriety, each word, actions, and even the company you kept was scrutinized.
Your eldest brother, Harrison Jr., is a lawyer and married to Katherine Yeo, a member of the influential Yeo family, and a partner of Singapore’s most prestigious law firm. Your second brother, Christopher, is a renowned doctor and married to Isabelle Lim, a member of the influential Lim family, a family that has big influence when it comes to the field of medicine.
Then there’s Alexander. Alexander is your third brother, who had to bear the brunt of defying these expectations. His decision to marry a woman your father deemed a commoner or beneath your social status resulted in his disownment and disinheritance—a decision that greatly affected the whole family. Yet, he remained close to you, valuing your bond over the rigid expectations of your father.
From the perspective of an outsider, your father is a paragon of dignity and control. But within the confines of your family’s estates, your father is a strict and controlling patriarch, a man whose word is final. For him, every decision—no matter how personal, is weighed against its potential impact on the family’s image.
Relationships, in very particular, are heavily scrutinized. Your father despises out-of-wedlock unions and views any romantic involvement with someone beneath your family’s status as a betrayal of tradition and status. His stance is not merely theoretical, it is absolute. This was most painfully evident when your father disowned and disinherited Alexander for marrying a woman he deemed unworthy of your family name.
For a moment, Lando didn’t say anything, his hand still tracing comforting patterns on your waist. Then he spoke, voice steady. “You love him, and that’s what matters. Even if things aren’t perfect, even if your family isn’t whole, the love you have for him hasn’t gone anywhere. I’m sure he knows that.”
His words struck a chord, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You nodded, not trusting your voice enough to speak.
Lando kissed the top of your head, his hand slipping up to gently cradle it. “You're amazing, you know that? Your family’s lucky to have you. Alexander’s lucky to have you.”
You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in his warmth, the weight of the day and the conversation slowly fading as his presence calmed you down.
The steady rise and fall of Lando’s breathing filled the room, grounding you as you stayed wrapped in his arms. His warmth and the way he held you so close reminded you of just how much you missed this—missed him. It was moments like these that made the distance and the time apart feel unbearable.
You shifted slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were soft, a little tired from the long day, but they lit up the moment they met yours. He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, voice low and comforting.
You hesitated for a moment, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve been thinking,” you began, voice quiet but steady, “about how much I hate being apart from you. It's just hard sometimes, you know?”
Lando’s expression softened even more, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hate it too. But we make it work, right? We always do.”
You nodded, taking a steadying breath before continuing. “We do. But it doesn’t have to be this way anymore.”
His brows furrowed slightly, curiosity and a hint of confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”
You sat up a little, propping yourself on your elbows so you could look at him fully. “I was going to tell you earlier, but the day was so hectic, it completely slipped out of my mind,” you admitted, a small and nervous laugh escaping you. “But after the season ends, I’ll be moving to Monaco. To be with you.”
For a moment, Lando just stared at you, his expression blank as if he were processing your words. Then, as the realization hit, his face broke into the brightest smile you had seen all day.
“Wait—are you serious?” he asked, sitting up slightly, his hand framing your face.
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as you saw the excitement in his eyes. “Yes, I’m serious. I’ve already made arrangements, and I’ll be moving after Christmas. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”
Lando did not waste another second. He pulled you into a deep, loving kiss, his lips warm and firm against yours. When he finally pulled back, his hands still cradling your face, and his grin was unstoppable.
“You’re amazing,” he said, voice filled with genuine happiness. “I can’t believe this. You’re really moving to Monaco?”
“Yes,” you confirmed, laughing softly at his excitement. “I want to be with you, Lan. No more long flights, no more months apart. Just us.”
He kissed you again, softer this time, as if he wanted to savor the moment. “This is the best news I’ve had all year,” he murmured against your lips. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”
You couldn’t help but smile, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I do,” you teased, resting your forehead against his.
Lando chuckled, his arms wrapping around you again as he pulled you back down onto the bed. “We’re going to have the best time,” he said, excitement still bubbling over. “I can’t wait to spend time with you everyday. Monaco’s going to feel like home for both of us.”
The two of you stayed like that for a little while longer, wrapped up in each other and the excitement of what was to come. But as the exhaustion of the day began to creep in, you both decided it was time to call it a night.
“Shower?” Lando asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he nudged you gently.
You nodded, stretching a little before getting up. “Only if you promise not to pull some sneaky shit.” you warned, earning a laugh from him.
“No promises.” Lando shot back with a grin, taking both of your hands as the two of you headed towards the bathroom.
The shower was quiet, the steam and warmth washing away the remnants of the day as you leaned against him, your bodies moving in sync. It was intimate and calming—a small but meaningful reminder of what you had to look forward to in the months ahead.
When you finally climbed into bed, Lando pulled you close once more, arms wrapped securely around you. “I love you.” he whispered into the darkness, his voice heavy with sleep but filled with sincerity.
“I love you too.” you whispered back, closing your eyes.
As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Tomorrow might be hectic, but tonight, you were exactly where you needed to be.
The morning air was full with energy, and the McLaren garage was a hive of activity—today is the last race of the 2024 season. Engineers and mechanics moved with precision, finalizing last minute checks, while the hum of engines in the background added to the excitement. You had arrived earlier with Lando, his family, and Lily—Oscar’s girlfriend. It felt good to be surrounded by familiar faces, especially Lily, whose presence brought a comforting sense of normalcy amidst the ongoing chaos.
You were a private person by nature, someone who valued the quiet and personal over the public and the performative. While the world of Formula 1 was filled with spectacle and exposure, you had always kept your life out of the spotlight, sharing only what was necessary and only with those closest to you.
This is partially the main reason why the majority of Lando’s fanbase found themselves really intrigued by you. Unlike many others in his orbit, you didn’t have any public social media presence, and there were only rare glimpses of you, often in the background of celebratory posts or candid shots captured at races.
The only social media platform you used was instagram, and even that was private. On it, you only followed a select group of people—your family, Lando’s family, close friends, and a small circle that included a few grid drivers and their girlfriends. Lando, of course, was at the center of it all. The account was not a place for you to broadcast your whole life, but instead, it was a way to stay connected with those who mattered, sharing snippets of your world through carefully chosen photos or stories.
Your appearances at races were rare—it wasn’t for lack of interest or support but dictated by your own commitments and the overwhelming nature of the events themselves. The previous year—2023, had been especially demanding for you as you were in your final year at Parsons School of Design, pouring your energy into completing your degree. Between assignments, projects, and preparations for your graduation, attending races had been nearly impossible. That year, you had managed to make it to only a handful of events, but you knew Lando understood, he always does.
The 2024 season has been no different in terms of your limited attendance. Out of the twenty-four races, you had been present for just three: Miami—where Lando had his first win of the season, the Netherlands, and Singapore. Those three races, however, had been unforgettable. Lando had won all of them, each one holding its own significance, but none more so than Singapore.
Lando’s victory in Singapore had been very deeply personal for you, not only that he won in your home country, but your family had also been there to witness his win, and seeing Lando celebrate with your family after crossing the finish line was a memory that you would always go back to.
While you were familiar with the paddock and the people in it, you never felt entirely at home there. It was vast and vibrant, but it could also be very overwhelming, even isolating. You were not someone who can easily mingle with large groups, and though you were polite and cordial with other people, you didn’t forge many close connections.
However, there were exceptions, of course. Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, had become a friend early on, her warm, approachable, and easygoing nature made her one of the few people you felt comfortable around. Carlos and Lando’s close friendship meant you saw Rebecca often, and over time, your bond grew.
Then there was Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. Similarly, Lily’s grounded and easygoing personality had drawn you in, especially with Lando and Oscar being teammates naturally brought you into her orbit. Much like Rebecca, Lily had a way of putting you at ease, and the two of them became your anchors whenever you were at a race, they were the one who ensured that you never felt out of place.
You really appreciated their presence more than you could ever express. Attending races, even with Lando by your side, often left you feeling out of place. It wasn’t that anyone treated you poorly, it was simply that the environment was so different from what you were used to. The noise, attention, and the sheer scale of it all—it could be a lot for someone like you. Rebecca and Lily understood this, and they had a way of making you feel less alone in the crowd.
As the garage filled with the chatter of team members and the faint cheers from the grandstands outside, you found yourself growing quieter. Your nerves had taken over, as they always did on race days, but this time, it was more heightened. The stakes were higher—this was McLaren’s chance to secure the Constructors’ Championship, a feat they hadn’t achieved in years. The weight of it pressed heavily on your chest, making it hard to focus on anything else.
Lily noticed your silence, her voice cutting through the noise as she leaned closer, whispering softly. “You okay? You’ve been awfully quiet since we got here.”
You managed a small smile, glancing at her briefly. “Just nervous. For both of them.” you admitted, voice quieter than usual.
She nodded, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “I get it. It’s a big day for them, but they’ve got this, and hey, if anyone’s a good luck charm, it’s definitely you.” she added with a wink, trying to lighten the mood.
Lily’s words made you chuckle softly, but the nervous energy bubbling inside you remained. Your eyes drifted towards Lando, who was standing near his car, already suited up and listening intently to his engineers. Seeing him like that reminded you why you always believed in him, even on the toughest of days.
As the minutes ticked closer to the start of the race, you knew you had to wish him luck. With a deep breath, you stepped away from Lily and made your way to Lando, weaving through the controlled chaos of the garage. Lando noticed you immediately, his expression softening as you approached. He turned to face you fully, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Hey.” he said, voice low but warm.
“Hey.” you replied, hands instinctively reaching for his. His gloves were already on, but you held them anyway, thumbs brushing against the fabric.
“I just wanted to say good luck again. I know how much this race means to you, to the entire team. But no matter what happens out there today, you’re always going to be my winner. My champion.” you said, voice steady despite the nerves swirling inside you.
Lando’s smile grew, and he took a small step closer, his gloved hands holding yours more firmly. “Thank you. It means everything to me that you’re here.”
You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. “I’ll be right here waiting for you when it’s over. Always.”
His eyes softened further, and without hesitation, Lando leaned in, lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It wasn’t long, but it was enough to steady both of you, grounding you before the storm ahead.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. “I’ll see you after, yeah?”
You nodded again, reluctantly letting go of his hands as he stepped back. Just as he turned toward his car, Lando glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a small, reassuring smile before climbing into the cockpit. As he began to settle in, one of the staff members approached you, handing over a pair of orange McLaren headphones. You thanked them with a polite smile and made your way back to where Lily and Lando’s family were waiting.
Lily gave you a knowing look as you rejoined her. “Feeling a little better?”
“A little,” you admitted, slipping on the headphones. “I’ll feel a lot better once this is over.”
She laughed softly, looping her arm through yours. “Same. But we’ve just got to believe in them.”
You nodded, glancing toward the starting grid displayed on the monitors. The cars were lining up, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation. Lando’s car was on the front, with Oscar on his right.
The race began with a level of intensity that immediately set your nerves on edge. Fifty-eight laps stretched ahead, but from the very start, chaos seemed to unfold every turn. Lando, starting on pole, managed a clean getaway and led the race. However, everything behind him seemed to descend into pandemonium.
Your heart jumped when Max, attempting to take P2, tagged Oscar’s rear tire. The collision sent both cars spinning off course, eliciting gasps from the garage. Checo and Valtteri collided shortly after, forcing Checo to retire for the entirety of the race, and Charles—against all odds, surged from P19 to P8. Ferrari clearly had their sights set on closing the 21 points gap in the Constructors’, and the pressure was immense.
The commentators were relentless. Max received a 10-second penalty for his collision with Oscar, and then Oscar himself had been handed a penalty of his own after making contact with Franco, which resulted in Franco’s retirement as well. Oscar’s chances of scoring major points were essentially over, and it became painfully clear that all the weight was now on Lando’s shoulders.
Your hands were clasped together tightly, your nerves refusing to settle. Every lap was a test of endurance and felt like an eternity. You could hear the engineers strategizing, discussing pit stops, tyre degradation, and maintaining the gap. A critical two-second pit stop gave Lando the edge he needed to remain ahead, but Carlos wasn’t far behind. He was relentless, desperately closing the gap wherever he could.
Your mind flashed back to the Singapore Grand Prix. That had been a race to remember, where Lando had led from start to finish, dominating with a 20-second gap to Max. It had been a nerve wracking yet exhilarating experience, but today was different. The margin was razor-thin. The gap between Lando and Carlos hovered around five seconds, and it felt like the entire race was balanced on the edge of a knife.
Your clasped hands are now resting against your lips as you silently prayed. You didn’t care to speak, afraid to jinx anything. Each lap brought a fresh wave of anxiety. You watched as Carlos pushed harder and harder, the gap shrinking ever so slightly, then stabilizing. It was a battle of wills, and all you could do was hope Lando’s calm precision behind the wheel would see him through.
As the final laps approached, your heart was pounding so loudly, and you were sure that everyone around you could hear it. The garage was a mix of tension and muted optimism, everyone holding their breath for the outcome they so desperately wanted.
When Lando finally crossed the checkered flag in first place, it felt like the air was punched out of you. For a moment, there was silence in your mind, and then the world came rushing back as the whole McLaren garage erupted in cheers.
Engineers, mechanics, and all of the staff jumped up and down, fists pumping in the air. Lando’s race engineer came over the radio, his voice cracking with emotions as he congratulated Lando not just on the win, but securing the Constructors’ Championship for McLaren.
You could not believe it. The realization of what had just happened hit you like a tidal wave, washing away all the tension and anxiety that had built up over the past fifty-eight laps. Lando had won. Not only had he won the race, but he is a runner up in the World Drivers’ Championship, and most of all, he had delivered McLaren their first Constructors’ Championship in twenty-six years.
It felt surreal. The garage continued celebrating around you, but for a moment, you stood frozen, taking it all in. The cheers, shouting, hugs, and the overwhelming sense of happiness that filled the air. Then, almost instinctively, you joined in. Something came over you, a burst of emotion you rarely let out, and you found yourself jumping up and down with everyone else, unable to contain the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins.
You could feel tears welling up before you even realized you were crying. Not just small tears either, but full, unrestrained sobs of happiness. You were crying so hard it was difficult to catch your breath, but you did not care. The weight of the moment was too much to hold in, you hugged Cisca tightly, burying your face against her shoulder as she squeezed you back. She, too, had tears in her eyes.
“He did it. He really did it.” her voice cracked.
“I’m so proud of him.” you managed to say between sobs, your voice trembling with emotions.
Cisca smiled through her own tears and cupped your cheeks for a moment, her pride mirroring your own. You turned next to Adam, giving him a quick but heartfelt hug before you turned to. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around her. She laughed softly, her own eyes glistening, and held you tightly.
“This is insane,” Lily whispered, shaking her head as she let out a breathless laugh. “He was amazing today.”
You nodded fervently, unable to articulate the storm of emotions inside you. Perfect didn’t even begin to describe it. Everything had gone right this week—no deleted lap times during qualifying, pole position won by a margin that silenced all doubts, led every lap of the race with a calm precision that made it look effortless, managing his tyres like a seasoned champion, even with Carlos breathing down his neck for most of the race, and most of all, staying composed under immense pressure, the kind of pressure that would have unraveled almost anyone else.
Your chest swelled with pride as you thought about it. Lando had brought back the crown to McLaren, a team that had not tasted this kind of glory in over two decades. Twenty-six long years since their last Constructors’ title, and Lando had done it, not just for himself but for the team, for the legacy.
This was not just a win. It was history, and you are here to witness all its glory. You felt overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, but beneath the tears and the adrenaline was an overwhelming sense of pride. Pride for Lando, who had worked tirelessly for this moment. Pride for McLaren, who had never given up, and pride for this race, this perfect ending to an unforgettable season.
You wiped your tears, a smile breaking through as you took a deep breath. Lando had really done it, and you could not have been happier to be by his side for it all.
The energy under the podium was incredible, sea of papaya erupting into cheers as the three drivers took their places. You stood close to Cisca, both of you craning your necks to get the best view of the podium. The wide smile on her face mirrored your own, both of you practically glowing with pride.
Charles stepped onto the third spot to a round of applause. Carlos followed, climbing to the second step, where the McLaren fans cheered for him too, though the cheers were louder, almost deafening, when Lando finally appeared. He bounded up to the top step, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile as he took it all in—the crowd and cameras.
Lando looked happy, truly happy. For a brief moment, his eyes scanned the crowd below, and when they landed on you, his smile grew even brighter. Without thanking, you blew him a flying kiss, and you could see the subtle way his shoulders relaxed, grin softening into something so tender it made your heart skip a beat.
The British National Anthem filled the whole circuit, and everyone quieted down as they turned their attention to the podium. You stood there with your hands clasped, looking up at him as the British flag waved proudly above his head. Lando’s eyes stayed steady, his expression filled with a quiet pride, and you knew he was soaking in every second of this moment.
When the trophies were handed out, your emotions bubbled over again. As Lando lifted the winner’s trophy high into the air, you felt tears sting your eyes once more. You clapped so hard your palms began to sting, but you didn’t care.
“Yes, Lando!” you Found yourself shouting, your voice mixing with the cheers of the teams and fans around you. Beside you, Cisca let out a joyful whoop, and you both exchanged a quick, tearful hug.
“That’s our boy.” Cisca whispered, and you nodded.
Then came the Constructors’ trophy, a moment you had been waiting for all day. Zak stepped forward to receive it, raising it high above his head with both hands as the crowd erupted in cheers. The sight of that massive trophy, finally back in McLaren’s hands after twenty-six years, made your heart swell with pride.
It was time for the spraying of champagne, and Lando immediately did his iconic champagne pop, spraying everyone with abandon. You laughed as Lando and Carlos shared a grin, drenching Charles before turning on Zak. You couldn’t stop smiling, your cheeks starting to ache from the happiness as you snapped a few more photos of them celebrating.
Champagne drenched, Lando joined Zak once again at the front of the podium, and together they hoisted the winner’s and WCC trophy high. You quickly reached again for your phone, capturing a photo of the moment—the bright orange suits, glittering of the trophy, and ecstatic smiles on their faces. It was a moment worth preserving, a piece of history you would cherish forever.
It was pure happiness on that podium, and looking up at Lando, drenched in champagne, trophy in hand, and beaming like the sun—you felt like the luckiest person in the world to witness it all.
The crowd outside the FIA garage was still buzzing with post-race excitement. You stood among the throng, your eyes scanning the door every few seconds, waiting patiently for Lando to come out. It had been a whirlwind day, and while you understood the endless media obligations he had to fulfill, you were eager to see him again.
Rebecca caught your eye from across the way, standing slightly apart from the crowd, waiting for Carlos. Her tall, poised figure was impossible to miss, and a smile spread across your face as you walked over to her.
“Rebecca!” you greeted warmly, reaching out to give her a quick hug. “I’m so happy to see you! I feel like I haven’t seen you all weekend.”
“I know, it’s been crazy, hasn’t it?” Rebecca replied, her own smile lighting up her face. “But I’m so glad we could finally catch up. Congratulations on Lando’s win, by the way. What a race!”
“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm at the mention of Lando. “It still feels so surreal, and congratulations to Carlos too. P2, that’s amazing!”
Rebecca laughed softly. “Thank you. He’s been working so hard for this, but honestly, today was all about Lando. He was just unstoppable out there.”
You nodded, your chest filled up with pride at her words. “It was such a tough race, though. My nerves were shot the entire time.”
“I can imagine,” Rebecca said, her tone understanding. “But he did it, McLaren did it. What a way to end the season, right?”
Then, the sound of cheers caught both of your attention. Carlos appeared, his hair slightly damp from the champagne, and a grin spread across his face when he spotted Rebecca. She immediately stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.
“Congratulations!” Rebecca said, voice soft but full of warmth.
Carlos returned her hug, murmuring something into her ear before turning to you. “Hey! Did you enjoy the race?”
“I did,” you said, smiling at him. “Congratulations on P2, Carlos. You were amazing out there.”
“Thank you,” he replied, his grin widened. “But the day belongs to Lando, doesn’t it? What a phenomenal drive from him.”
You couldn’t help but smile again, the pride you felt for Lando practically radiating from you. “He worked so hard for this.”
Carlos nodded knowingly. “He deserves every bit of it. Oh, and by the way,” he added, “he should be out any minute now. You won’t have to wait much longer.”
“Thanks, Carlos.” you said, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing Lando again.
Carlos and Rebecca began to walk off as you stayed put, eyes drifting back to the FIA garage door, your anticipation building with each passing second.
Then, the crowd erupted in applause and cheers the moment Lando came out from the FIA garage. You joined in, clapping enthusiastically with the whole McLaren team members, media, and fans as they all celebrated him—the man of the hour, but Lando’s eyes were immediately searching for one person—you.
Lando spotted you in an instant and, without hesitation, made a run towards you. You barely had a moment to process it before he wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into a hug so tight it left you breathless. You could feel his sweat, mixed with champagne warm against yours.
Before you could say anything, he lifted you up and twirled you around. He then put you down, tilted your face up, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so filled with emotion it made your head dizzy. There was no shyness in the way he kissed you—it was all passion, relief, and gratitude.
You could hear the cameras clicking furiously around you, capturing every second of the moment, but you didn’t care. Neither did Lando, it seemed, as his hands stayed firmly on your waist. When you pulled apart, you were smiling against his lips, your heart swelling as he looked at you with pure adoration.
“You did it.” You whispered.
“I did it,” he echoed, his breath warm on your skin. Then he nuzzled his face into your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he inhaled deeply, grounding himself in your presence. “God, I missed you out there.” He murmured softly, voice muffled against your skin.
You stroked the back of his neck gently, still holding him close. “I’m so proud of you,” you said, boice steady but thick with emotion. “You drove like a champion today. I can’t wait for next season, my love. It’s going to be your year, I just know it.”
Lando pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze soft but sparkling with determination. “It’s our year,” he said firmly, his voice low but confident. “None of this would’ve been possible without you. I love you.”
You felt your cheeks flush at his words, and your chest tightened with overwhelming affection. “I love you too.”
He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers with his. Lando held your hand tightly, almost as if he didn’t want to let you go, even as the media and McLaren staff began to encroach on his space.
“I have to finish the media stuff,” he said reluctantly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles and bringing it over to his lips, apologizing for having to leave you again soon. “But I’ll see you right after, I promise. We’ll celebrate.”
“I’ll be waiting.” You said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.
After a hectic weekend that included celebrating McLaren’s Constructors’ Championship win in Bahrain with the crown prince, attending festivities at McLaren Technology Centre, and dressing to the nines for the FIA Awards, you and Lando finally returned home to his Monaco apartment. The calm of the familiar space was a welcome change from the high-energy chaos of the past few days, even though you knew it would be short-lived.
The December calendar was packed—at least for you, and with Lando tagging along. There was little time to breathe before the next string of obligations began. You and Lando would be flying again soon to Singapore to attend the wedding of Colin Khoo and Araminta Lee, a lavish affair that had already been dubbed as Singapore’s wedding of the century.
The Khoos and Lees were families deeply tied to yours—Colin being your cousin Nick’s best friend and practically an honorary member of your family, while Araminta’s younger sister, Sophia, had been your high school classmate, someone you remembered fondly for her warmth and kindness. These connections meant that your presence was not just requested, it was expected, especially given how your families’ businesses were intertwined.
However, the wedding itself was not the only commitment pulling you to Singapore. You were set to arrive days before the ceremony to attend Araminta’s bachelorette party, while Lando had been invited to Colin’s bachelor’s party. On top of that, your Ah Ma had scheduled one of her signature dinner parties—a must-attend event. The December social calendar wasn’t just busy, it was a finely tuned balancing act, with every minute accounted for.
After Singapore, you would fly to the UK to spend Christmas with Lando’s family. Then, it’s back again to Singapore for the New Year’s Eve celebrations with your family, a mix of traditions and festivities that always made the transition into a new year special. It would be exhausting, but you were accustomed to juggling personal commitments and obligations that came with your families’ global connections.
Amidst the chaos, there was an underlying sense of excitement. December was always hectic, but this year, it carried a certain weight of celebration and happiness. Even with the endless travel, extravagant parties, and obligations, there was comfort in knowing that you and Lando were navigating it all together.
You and Lando have 24 hours to go before your flight to Singapore, and you both stood in the bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases and neatly folded piles of clothes. The room buzzed with quiet energy as the two of you packed, double-checking everything to make sure nothing essential would be left behind. Lando had his usual approach—casual, unbothered, and occasionally tossing random stuff into his suitcase. While you, you were methodical, going down your checklist and catergorizing every outfit and item for the busy schedule ahead.
As you neatly folded a pair of trousers into your suitcase, you glanced over at Lando, who was holding up yet another hoodie and contemplating packing it. You let out a soft sigh, setting your clothes aside.
“Love,” you began, voice soft but teasing, “I know that hoodies and sweatshirt are your favorite, but you do remember my Ah Ma’s dinner party, right?”
Lando looked at you with mock indignation, a playful grin tugging at his lip. “Hey, what’s wrong with being comfortable? Hoodies are versatile.”
You laughed lightly and shook your head. “You’re not going to convince Ah Ma that hoodies are versatile.”
“But she loves me, so does it really matter what I wear?” he looked at you, a boyish grin spreading across his face.
You let out a chuckle. “She does love you, but she’s still very particular about dress codes. Hoodies won’t cut it, no matter how much she adores you. Trust me, formal is the only way to go.”
Lando groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Formal? Again? Haven’t I worn enough suits this past few days already?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at his silly antics, you leaned over him and gently squished his cheeks between your hands, making him pout slightly.
“It’s only for a few hours, babe,” you said with mock seriousness, planting a quick kiss on his puckered lips. “You can survive. Also, our fit for the wedding was flown ahead to Singapore already.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer. “Really? You had our outfits sent ahead? That’s very fancy of you,” he teased, voice warm and playful as his fingers lightly traced your waist.
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. “It wasn’t my idea—it was my Mom’s. She didn’t want us stressing about anything last-minute, so yes, everything’s already in Singapore, ready for the wedding.”
“Alright, I’ll dress properly. For you, and your terrifyingly strict Ah Ma.” he said, voice muffled by your hands.
“Thank you.” you pressed another kiss on his lips, then wrapped your arms around his neck. “I promise that it’ll be worth it, and besides, our outfits go so well together. We’ll be looking extra cute.”
Lando pulled you closer. “That’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this,” he joked, pressing a kiss on your lips. “Because we’ll look cute.”
With everything packed, you stepped back and returned to your checklist. “Now, let’s go through everything one more time,” you said, grabbing the notepad from your bedside table. “We can’t afford to leave anything important behind.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, his tone laced with humor. “We? I feel like you’re the one in charge here.”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” you replied, giving him a pointed look. “I love you so much, but you forget things. Like all the time. So yes, I’m in charge. Just let me do this.”
Lando raise his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, boss. Whatever you say.” but the warmth in his voice and the way his eyes softened when he looked at you says that he did not mind one bit.
The private jet touched down in Singapore just as the clock struck three in the morning. The hum of the engines winding down felt like a soothing lullaby after the whirlwind of travel. As the jet taxied to the private tarmac, you stretched slightly in your seat, trying to shake off the haze of exhaustion that clung to you live a heavy blanket. It had been days of nonstop movement. From New York to Dubai to Monaco, and now, to Singapore—you were running on fumes.
One of your family’s drivers was already waiting by the car as you and Lando stepped off the jet. The humid Singapore air embraced you like a familiar friend, but you were too tired to notice it fully. Lando, looking equally worn out but managing a faint smile, grabbed your hand to guide you down the stairs. The driver greeted you both warmly, holding the car door open as you slipped inside.
The ride to your home in the high-rise district was quiet, with the city’s nightlife slowly fading into the early morning calm. You leaned your head against the window, eyes fluttering shut as the car glided through the streets. Every now and then, Lando’s hand would squeeze yours gently, keeping you awake despite your jet-lagged haze.
When the car passed through your front gates and stopped on your front door, you stumbled out first, kicking off your sneakers as soon as you stepped inside your home. The plush carpet felt like heaven beneath your feet. Lando followed close behind, carrying a couple of bags despite his own fatigue.
You muttered something incoherent about needing to unpack but barely made it past the living room before surrendering to your exhaustion. With a small groan, you collapsed onto the soft white couch, burying your face into one of the throw pillows.
“I’ll just close my eyes for a second,” you mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep claimed you.
Lando chuckled softly from where he stood by the entrance, arms full of bags. “A second, huh?” he murmured, watching as you curled up tighter.
He set the bags down carefully, and crossed the room to where you lay. Kneeling by the couch, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.
“Out cold already,” he said quietly, a fond smile tugging at his lips.
Despite his own exhaustion, Lando moved with quiet determination. Slipping an arm under your knees and another beneath your back, he lifted you up effortlessly. You stirred slightly, mumbling something that he couldn’t make out, but didn’t wake.
“Come on, sleepy head.” he whispered, adjusting his grip as he carried you towards the bedroom.
Navigating the familiar layout of your Singapore home, Lando easily found his way to the master bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot and carefully placed you on the bed, taking extra care not to jostle you. You sighed softly in your sleep, instinctively shifting to get comfortable as soon as you hit the mattress.
Standing back for a moment, Lando shook his head with a small laugh. “You really pushed yourself this week,” he said quietly to himself.
Tugging the duvet from beneath you, he draped it over your sleeping form before heading back out to bring in the rest of the luggage inside the house. Once everything was inside, Lando returned to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, his hand resting slightly on your shoulder. You didn’t stir, and he just smiled to himself.
“Guess unpacking can wait ‘til later,” he said softly.
Standing up, he turned off the lights, with only the soft glow of the city filtering through the curtains casting a gentle warmth over the whole room. With everything settled, he changed into some comfortable clothes and climbed into the bed beside you, wrapping an arm protectively around your waist as sleep finally overtook him too.
The soft afternoon light streamed through the curtains when you stirred awake, slowly coming back to consciousness. Stretching lazily under the covers, you blinked a few times before turning your head. Lando was already wide awake, leaning against the headboard with his phone in hand, scrolling idly. The peacefulness on his face made you smile softly. Sensing your movement, he glanced down at you, a warm grin spreading across his lips.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured, setting his phone down on the bedside table. Lando leaned down to kiss you softly, his lips warm and familiar. “Finally decided to join the land of the living?”
“How long was I out?” you asked, voice still raspy from sleep as you shifted to prop yourself slightly.
“Hmm,” he murmured, pretending to think as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “A solid eleven hours, give or take. I think that might be a record for you.”
“Eleven hours?” you said, eyes widening in mock disbelief. “Well, I deserved that. That’s the most proper sleep I’ve gotten in days.”
“You definitely needed it,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’ve been running on fumes.”
Instead of getting up and getting started on unpacking your things, you nestled yourself against Lando’s chest, letting out a content sigh as his arm settled securely around you—your things can wait. His other hand picked up his phone again, resuming whatever he had been scrolling through.
“What are you looking at?” you asked curiously, voice muffled against his shirt.
“Just catching up on messages and stuff,” he replied, his thumb flicking across the screen. “Few banter with Maximilian. Nothing too exciting.”
The two of you stayed like that for a while, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his fingers idly traced small circles on your arm—it was the kind of peace you hadn’t realized you craved after the hectic days leading up to this.
After a comfortable silence, you tilted your head to look up at him. “Don’t forget,” you reminded him gently, “tonight’s my Ah Ma’s dinner party. My family will be sending a car to pick us up at six to drive us to her estate.”
He groaned playfully, letting his head fall back against the headboard. “Already? I was just starting to feel human again.”
“You’ll survive,” you teased, reaching up to pat his cheeks softly with a small laugh. “Besides, you love Ah Ma.”
“That’s true,” he admitted with a grin. “But does she love me enough to excuse me from wearing a suit?”
“Not a chance, my love,” you said, shaking your head. “She might adore you, but rules are rules. No hoodies at Ah Ma’s dinner table.”
He laughed softly. “Fine, fine. I’ll play along.”
Satisfied, you let yourself relax against him again, savoring the calm for another thirty minutes before you decided it was time to get moving. You sat up, stretching your arms above your head before climbing out of bed.
You noticed that you were still dressed in your flight clothes, so you opened your closet and pulled out a pair of comfortable home clothes, quickly changing. As you tied your hair up, you glanced back at Lando, who was still lounging on the bed, scrolling through his phone again.
“I’m going downstairs to grab a snack. Wanna come?” you said softly.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, finally setting his phone aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As he stood and stretched, he added casually, “oh, by the way, Chris dropped by earlier. He brought us some of your favorite food.”
“Really?” you asked, brightening at the mention of your second brother. “What did he bring?”
“Everything, I think,” Lando replied with a grin, following you out of the room. “Laksa, chicken rice, sambal stingray—it’s downstairs. He figured we’d be too tired to cook, and, well, he’s not wrong.”
“Chris is the best,” you said fondly, making your way towards the kitchen. “And he definitely knows you can’t cook to save your life.”
“Hey!” Lando protested, feigning offense. “I can cook!”
You shot him a skeptical look over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, toast doesn’t count.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around your waist while you walked. “Good thing I’ve got you, then.”
“Geez, what would you do without me, huh?” you teased, and he just chuckled.
Lando helped you unpack the containers of food that Chris had dropped off, carefully setting everything onto the counter. You grabbed a few plates and bowls from the cupboard, handing some to Lando while you began separating the dishes. The aroma of spices and freshly cooked rice filled the kitchen, reminding you just how much you had missed authentic Singaporean food.
“Baby, careful with that,” you said, gesturing toward the sambal stingray as you placed it on a plate. “I already know you’re not touching this one.”
“Yeah, no chance,” Lando replied with a playful grimace, taking a step back as if the dish might bite him. “Fish and me, we’re not friends. You already know that.”
You laughed, setting the plate down and moving on to the chicken rice. “Well, I figured as much. I separated the chicken rice for you since it’s the only thing here you’ll actually eat.”
“You’re too good to me,” he teased, kissing you on the forehead and pulling over a chair, sitting down at the dining table. “Though, to be fair, I think chicken rice is objectively the best option here.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you carried the food to the table, placing his plate in front of him and your own dish next to it. “It’s not that you don’t like the other options,” you teased, sitting down in front of him, “you’re just a picky eater, babe.”
Lando picked up his fork, grinning. “I’m not picky. I just know what I like.”
“And apparently what you like is the safest, most neutral option,” you joked, scooping a bit of rice into your mouth. The flavors were as rich and satisfying as you remembered, and for a moment, you closed your eyes to savor it. “God, I missed this so much.”
Lando watched you, amused. “I think Chris might love you more than I do with how often he brings you food.”
You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, he is my brother.”
As the two of you ate, Lando paused between bites to ask, “is Nick coming tonight?”
You nodded, wiping the corner of your mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, he is. He arrived yesterday, and he’s bringing Rachel with him, too. He wants to introduce her to Ah Ma.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly in interest. “Rachel, huh? That’s a big step.”
“It is,” you said, nodding thoughtfully. “But I think it’s the right time. They’ve been dating for over a year now, and Rachel’s really nice—very sweet, actually, and you can tell how much she loves Nick. I think she’ll handle tonight well.”
“I remember her from New York,” Lando said, gesturing with his form. “The double date? She seemed lovely then.”
“She is,” you agreed with a soft smile, thinking back to the time you all spent together in New York. “I’ve grown to love her. She became like a big sister to me, and a breath of fresh air. Rachel is really good for Nicky. I just hope everything goes smoothly tonight.”
“Remember when I met Ah Ma?” he said with a teasing grin.
You laughed at the memory, shaking your head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I was so nervous about how she’d react. You were the first person I ever brought to meet her.”
“Well, it went pretty well, all things considered,” he said, taking another bite of chicken rice. “Though I think she was testing me with all those questions about my plans for the future.”
“She was,” you admitted with a grin. “That’s her way of showing she cares, and you passed with flying colors, obviously. Ah Ma adores you, she even calls you a nickname, she rarely does that unless it’s her grandchildren.”
“Guess I made a good impression, then,” he said proudly.
“Of course you did!” you laughed.
“But Ah Ma’s a tough crowd, though. Think she’ll approve?” Lando asked, finishing a bite of chicken.
You leaned back in your chair, considering. “I think she will. Rachel’s got that quiet elegance about her, you know? She’s not flashy, not trying to prove anything. Ah Ma values that.”
“Well, if she’s got your seal of approval, she’ll be fine,” Lando said confidently, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand reassuringly. “And hey, if anything gets too intense, at least you'll have me there to lighten the mood.”
You chuckled, squeezing his hand back. “That’s true. You’ve got a way of making everyone like you.”
“Except for the sambal stingray,” he quipped, shooting a playful glance at the slightly untouched plate on the table.
The moment you finished your plate of food, you stood up from the table and made your way over to the fridge, searching for something sweet to finish off your meal. As you opened the fridge, you noticed a small box nestled on the top shelf with a red ribbon wrapped around it and a handwritten note on it. You quickly recognized your mother’s neat and elegant handwriting.
“I hope you and Lando enjoy this sweet treat. Stocked up your fridge for your stay, don’t forget to eat well. Love, Mom.”
A smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed the box and headed back to the table. “Look what my mom sent us,” you said, setting the box down in front of Lando with a grin. “Durian puffs!”
Lando gave you a wary look, his face already showing a bit of hesitation. “Durian puffs? You know I’m not exactly a fan of durian,” he said with a playful tone in his voice. “That stuff is…intense.”
You laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. “I know, I know. But trust me, these are different. They’re not as bad as the whole fruit, and they’re amazing when done right. My mom’s been baking them for years, you’ve got to try at least one bite.”
His eyes flickered to the box with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “I don’t know, babe,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “The last time you tried to get me to eat durian…I wasn’t exactly sold on it.”
You raised an eyebrow playfully, knowing it would take a bit of coaxing. “It’s not the same,” you said, opening the box and revealing the perfectly golden, puffed pastries inside. The familiar scent of durian filled the air, and you could see Lando’s nose wrinkle a little. “Come on, just one bite. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
Lando stared at the puff for a moment, clearly reluctant but still amused by your insistence. “Okay, fine,” he muttered, finally giving in. “But only because you’re looking at me like that.”
You smiled and grabbed one of the puffs, holding it out to him. “It’s not bad, babe, I promise. I used to eat these all the time when I’m here, and I’ve really missed them. It’s hard to find one of these in New York.”
He took a deep breath and hesitantly leaned forward, allowing you to tear off a small piece of the puff for him. Lando looked at it as if it were a challenge, then took a tentative bite.
You watched his expression carefully, curious to see how he would react. At first, his eyes widened slightly, and he chewed slowly, processing the taste. “Okay, I’ll admit,” he began, voice reluctant but tinged with surprise, “it’s not as bad as I thought.”
You smiled, delighted that he was starting to come around. “See? Told you. It’s a lot better than the whole fruit.”
Lando shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. It’s not terrible, but I’m not sure I’m ready to eat a whole one on my own.”
You grinned, knowing that wasn’t a problem. “That’s okay, we can share. It’s a pretty big puff anyway.”
The two of you ended up sharing the durian puff, breaking it into smaller pieces. You were glad Lando had tried it, he may not have been a huge fan, but at least he hadn’t refused outright this time. There was something so comforting about the familiar taste of home, especially when it was shared with someone who, despite their initial doubts, was willing to try new things for you.
He looked at the remaining half of the puff and then at you. “Alright, you win. I’m not sure I’ll ever be obsessed with durian, but I’ll give you this one. It’s better than I expected.”
“Glad to hear it, babe,” you smiled warmly, happy that he had at least made the effort. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one going for the second puff.”
The moment the clock struck six, you were already standing in the living room, ready and waiting for the car your family had sent to take you to your Ah Ma’s estate. You smoothed the fabric of your black popeline dress, its cinched waist and delicate midi length giving you an air of effortless elegance, perfect choice for the evening. Lando stood beside you, impeccably dressed in his black suit with the two buttons of his crisp white shirt left undone, the effortless style topped off with a tailored black coat. He looks very dashing—confident, yet understated in a way Lando could only pull off. You turned towards him, giving his outfit a final once-over.
“Hold still,” you murmured, dusting off an imaginary speck on his shoulder. Your fingers lingered there for a moment, gently straightening the lapel of his coat.
Lando chuckled softly, watching you fuss over him. “I think I’m good, babe,” he said, voice low and amused.
“You look so perfect,” you admitted with a small smile, your eyes meeting his.
As you stepped back to admire the two of you in the mirror, a flutter of nervousness settled in your chest. Before you could dwell on it further, the sound of the car pulling up in the driveway broke the silence. Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the soft hum of the engine outside.
He noticed the slight change in your expression and reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Lando leaned down slightly, pressing a gentle and quick kiss to your lips.
“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his warm hand resting briefly against your waist, and eyes searching yours.
You nodded but hesitated before answering. “I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you admitted, voice barely above whisper.
Lando smiled, warm and understanding, and laced his fingers with yours. “Well, don’t be,” he said, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “I’m here with you. It’s going to be fine.”
The way his hand fit so perfectly with yours instantly eased the tension you did not realize you were holding. You took a deep breath, letting Lando’s presence ground you, and smiled back at him.
“You’re right,” you said softly.
Together, you walked to the door, where the chauffeur was already waiting. You offered a polite greeting, and Lando followed suit. The chauffeur gave a respectful nod and stepped forward to open the car door. Lando turned his attention back to you, placing his hand gently above your head to ensure you didn’t bump it on the way in.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and attentive. He guided the folds of your dress to make sure it didn’t catch in the door.
Once you were in, Lando slid in beside you, adjusting his coat as he leaned back against the plush seat. The door closed softly behind him with a thud, and the hum of the engine filled the silence as the car began to move.
The car ride was smooth, the city lights of Singapore streaming past the tinted windows in a soft blur. You leaned forward slightly. “Is my family already at Ah Ma’s?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the chauffeur replied politely. “They arrived a little while ago.”
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, thank you.” you replied, tone warm but measured.
“See?” he said softly, leaning a little closer. “Nothing to worry about.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his calm reassurance. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted, relaxing into the seat.
As the car turned onto Tyersall Avenue, the familiar sight of the estate’s discreet entrance came into view. There was no house number, no grand signage indicating its presence, it was just two white pillars framing the hidden driveway and a rusty, almost-forgotten sign partially obscured by overgrown foliage that read Tyersall Park. It was understated, nearly invisible to passerby, yet exuded an air of exclusivity and history.
The car slowed down as it approached the entrance, and the soft crunch of tyres on gravel indicated the start of the long, winding path to the estate itself. The path dipped slightly, then climbed up a small hill, where a second set of gates awaited. These gates were far more imposing than the first—ornate yet fortified, with a guardhouse attached.
The guards stationed in the second gate were not your ordinary security personnel. They were Gurkhas, known as one of the skilled and feared soldiers in the world. Their presence was a quiet but powerful reminder of the importance and prestige of the estate they protected. They moved swiftly and efficiently, conducting a quick check of the vehicle and exchanging a word with the chauffeur. Then the gates creaked open, revealing another path towards the estate.
Beyond the gates, an avenue lined with towering palm trees stretched out before you, their elegant fronds swaying gently in the night breeze. The avenue seemed endless, a perfect symmetry of nature and design, drawing the eye toward the glowing silhouette at the very end.
There, perched at the top of the hill, was your Ah Ma’s estate. It was as magnificent as you always remembered, illuminated softly against the night sky. The sprawling sixty-four acre mansion stood like a timeless monument, its intricate details and architectural grandeur untouched by the passing years. The sheer scale of the place was enough to leave anyone awestruck.
Even though Lando had seen it before, he couldn’t help but let out a soft exhale as the estate came fully into view. He turned slightly to glance at you, expression a mix of admiration and disbelief. You caught his gaze and smiled, already accustomed to the reaction the estate always elicited. The car began its slow ascent up the final path of the driveway, the palms on either side growing taller as you approached the estate’s main entrance.
Lando stepped out of the car first, then turned to offer you his hand. You placed your fingers gently in his, letting him steady you as you stepped out. The cool evening breeze brushed against your skin as the soft hum of conversations and the melodic sound of the live jazz band spilled from the open doors of the estate. Lando closed the car door behind you, his other hand naturally finding its place on the small of your back.
The grandeur of the evening was already evident. The driveway was lined with luxury cars, some of which you instantly recognized as belonging to your cousins. The valet attendants worked with practiced efficiency, guiding the vehicles into neat rows, their movements sharp against the backdrop of the estate's golden lights.
You had not expected this many guests for tonight’s dinner party. But as you took it all in, you realized that it was your Ah Ma who decided to throw the party. She never did things by halves.
Walking toward the entrance, you glance up at Lando, who offers you a small, knowing smile. The two of you ascended the short flight of steps together, and as the ornate doors swung open, the dinner party unfolded before you in full splendor.
The grand foyer was alive with movement and sound. Guests mingled in their elegant attire, their laughter and chatter blending harmoniously with the smooth melodies of the jazz band playing in the corner. Servers moved gracefully through the crowd, balancing trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres.
You were greeted by a server offering a silver bowl filled with water to rinse your hands—a subtle nod to tradition. You dipped your fingers in, feeling the coolness against your skin, before drying them with the soft cloth that came with it. Lando followed your lead, his actions slightly tentative but seamless nonetheless.
As the two of you moved further into the house, your eyes scanned the room, searching for familiar faces. The dazzling opulence of the house was on full display tonight—crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the polished marble floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of candlelight.
Everywhere you turned, there were familiar faces—relatives chatting in small groups, family friends laughing over shared memories, and acquaintances dressed to the nines.
Still, the absence of one particular couple was glaring. You glanced around, expecting to see Nick and Rachel somewhere among the crowd, but there was no sign of them yet. But, you quickly spotted your parents standing near the grand staircase, deep in conversation with one of your family’s close friends and business partners. You nudged Lando gently, and together you made your way over to them.
The moment your parents saw you, their faces lit up. Your father greeted you first, his smile wide and welcoming. “Ah, you’re finally here,” he said warmly, pulling you into a brief embrace before turning his attention to Lando. “Lando! It’s good to see you again.”
Lando grinned, shaking your father’s hand firmly. “It’s great to see you too, sir.”
Your father wasted no time, immediately congratulating him. “That was an incredible race in Dubai—phenomenal drive! Congratulations on the win, both yours and McLaren’s. It's very well deserved.”
“Thank you. It has been an incredible season,” Lando replied, voice filled with modesty. “But it was a team effort, really.”
The two of them quickly fell into a deep conversation, with your father mostly asking about the race and McLaren’s celebration plans, clearly very eager to hear more.
You turned to your mother, who had been quietly observing the exchange with a smile. “Mom, where’s Ah Ma?” you asked, leaning in slightly to avoid raising your voice over the lively music.
“She’s still getting ready,” your mother replied with a knowing look. “You know how she is with these things, everything has to be perfect.”
You just nodded, though you couldn’t help but glance around the room again, taking in the number of people. “I thought this was only supposed to be a small dinner party,” you said, with a hint of surprise in your tone. “It looks like Ah Ma invited half of Singapore.”
She chuckled softly, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Ah Ma decided to invite everyone. She said that it’s been too long since she’s hosted a big gathering. Besides,” she added, lowering her voice slightly, “her Tan Hua is going to bloom tonight. She wanted everyone to see it.”
The mention of Tan Hua caught your attention. It is a rare flower known for its elusive and short-lived bloom—a source of pride for your Ah Ma. It was not just a flower, it was a spectacle, a family event in itself. You smiled faintly, imagining her excitement as she planned this evening down to the last detail.
Your mother smiled knowingly at the look on your face. “Don’t worry, my dear, everything will be perfect. Your Ah Ma wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You had only been standing with your family for a few minutes when you caught sight of Nick and Rachel making their way into the house. Relieved and happiness washed over you at the sight of the couple, and with a polite smile, you gently excised yourself and Lando to go greet them. As you approached, Nick’s face lit up, and Rachel’s warm smile mirrored your own. You immediately pulled Nick into a hug, patting his back affectionately.
“Nicky! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” you said, stepping back slightly to greet Rachel. “It’s good to see you,” you said sincerely, your smile widening.
Rachel replied softly, “we wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
Before you could even mutter a new response, the unmistakable voice of your cousin Eddie cut into the moment. Inserting himself into the conversation with his usual air of self-importance.
“Nicky boy! Long time no see!” He clapped Nick on the shoulder, then turned his sharp gaze to Rachel. “And this must be Rachel! I’m Eddie.” he said, tone teetering on the edge of charming and patronizing.
Rachel, ever polite, offered her hand for a brief shake and smiled lightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Eddie’s eyes flickered to you and Lando next, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ah, I see you’ve already met the princess and her prince.”
The exaggerated emphasis on the titles almost made you roll your eyes. You didn’t bother hiding the subtle tilt of your head as you fixed him with a pointed look, but Lando only smiled faintly, his hand resting at your back.
Eddie was treading carefully. He always does whenever he’s around you, especially after the infamous incident when you were kids. You had punched him squarely on the face for saying something particularly offensive, and he had cried so loudly that half of the family came running to see what had happened.
That memory was enough to make Eddie measure his words around you now, though it did not stop him from occasionally pushing boundaries. Still, you knew he had nothing bad to say about Lando. Eddie, despite his many faults and flaws, respected wealth, and Lando’s background made him untouchable in Eddie’s eyes.
He shifted his attention back to Rachel, his smile tightening into something that looked more like calculation. “So, Rachel, from which Chu family are you from?” Eddie asked, the question clearly designed to assess her pedigree. “Chu Investments? Chu Shipping? Chu Constructions? Or maybe Chu Real Estate?” he rattled off with confidence, pausing after each one as if expecting immediate recognition.
Rachel, to her credit, handled it with grace. She shook her head gently at each suggestion, her polite smile never faltering. “No, I’m not from any of those families,” she replied, voice calm and pleasant.
Eddie didn’t seem deterred by her response. In fact, it only seemed to fuel his determination. “Really? Huh. Well, you must be from somewhere,” he said, leaning slightly as he named another family one after another, tone growing more insistent with each guess.
You watched the exchange with thinly veiled annoyance, your patience wearing thinner with every word out of Eddie’s mouth. You glanced at Rachel, who remained composed but was clearly growing weary of the interrogation. Nick, standing protectively beside her, shot you a look that said he was just as over Eddie’s antics as you are.
Eddie, oblivious to the awkwardness he was creating, pressed on. “Come on, you can tell us,” he said, as if her lineage were some kind of secret puzzle only he could solve. “Surely you’re related to one of the prominent families. There aren’t that many Chus of significance, you know.”
The annoyance just flickered greatly in your chest, not just for Rachel’s sake but for Fiona’s as well. Fionna, who stood a short distance away, casting occasional glance at her husband with that familiar expression of quiet resignation. You had seen that look too many times, the silent endurance of someone used to being overshadowed by Eddie’s insufferable personality. Events like this were her only reprieve, and whenever you were around, you made it a point to keep Eddie in check, and tonight would be no different.
“Eddie,” you said, voice calm but firm, cutting through his monologue like a knife. “I think Rachel’s already answered your question.”
Eddie faltered for a moment, mouth half-open as he turned to look at you. There was a flicker of something, annoyance perhaps, but it quickly disappeared and was replaced by his usual smug expression.
“Oh, of course,” he said smoothly, though his tone was anything but apologetic. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
“Anyway,” you said brightly, offering her a reassuring smile, and steered the conversation away from Eddie entirely, “I’m so glad you both could make it. Ah Ma will be thrilled to see you.”
Rachel returned your smile, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “Thank you.”
Eddie clearly sensed that his moment in the spotlight was over, he gave a small, self-important sniff and stepped back. You did not miss the way his gaze lingered on Rachel for a second longer than necessary before he excused himself, most likely off to find another conversation where he could insert himself.
“Thank you for that,” Nick muttered as soon as Eddie was out of earshot, voice quiet but sincere.
You waved it off with a small laugh. “It’s literally nothing,” you said lightly, though the underlying frustration lingered. “Eddie just can’t help himself sometimes.”
Lando turned to you, brows raised in curiosity. “So, has anyone ever knocked some sense into him? Or is he still walking around thinking he’s God’s gift to everyone?”
Nick, unable to contain himself, let out a laugh. “Oh, there’s definitely someone who knocked him out. Literally,” he said, motioning towards you with a tilt of his head.
“You?!” Lando exclaimed, laughing.
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “In my defense,” you said evenly, “Eddie was much worse when we were kids. He’s always been a menace, constantly looking down on people, and giving all of his nanny a hard time. Someone had to do something.”
“And you did, all right.” Nick snorted. “He cried like a baby. I still remember his face, all red and snotty. It was priceless.”
Lando laughed, eyes gleaming with both amusement and pride. “I can’t believe I’m only hearing this story now. You never told me you could throw a punch.”
“I only did it because he deserved it,” you replied, crossing your arms lightly. “And don’t ever get any ideas. I’m not planning to make a habit out of it.”
Nick shook his head, still grinning. “Trust me, he’s toned it down around her ever since. Eddie might be insufferable, but even he’s smart enough to know not to push his luck twice.”
The conversation then shifted, with Nick and Rachel both congratulating Lando on his win in Dubai. “By the way, congrats again,” Nick said, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “That was one hell of a race.”
“Thank you,” Lando replied, tone modest but appreciative.
“We watched the whole race,” Rachel added, smiling warmly. “It was really incredible. You really deserved that win.”
“Speaking of race,” Nick grinned mischievously and turned to you. “The camera caught a great moment during the podium ceremony.”
You immediately knew where this was going and groaned. “Oh no. Don’t.”
Nick ignored you. “You should’ve seen her, Lando. The camera panned to her during the ceremony, and there she was, ugly crying like a soap opera actress.”
“It was actually really sweet. You could tell how proud she was.” Rachel giggled, covering her mouth.
You rolled your eyes playfully, though your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I was emotional, okay? It was a big moment.”
Lando glanced at you, his expression softening. “I thought it was cute,” he said simply, earning a playful scoff from you.
After a few more minutes of lighthearted conversation, Nick checked his watch. “We should probably go find Mom, I still need to introduce Rachel to her.”
You winced slightly but kept your tone encouraging. “Good luck,” you said sincerely. “I hope it goes well.”
Rachel gave you a grateful smile. “Thank you. Fingers crossed.”
Nick, ever the joker, winked at you. “Don’t worry. If it doesn’t, I’ll call you to change her mind.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing as they walked away. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
When Nick and Rachel left, you and Lando wandered into one of the quieter corners of the house, a haven away from the bustling party. The dim lighting and the soft hum of conversation filtering through the walls made the space feel intimate and the warm aroma of desserts and dumplings filled the air, a bubble of calm amidst the grandeur of your Ah Ma’s estate. Lando sat close to you on the plush couch, dessert plates balanced on the small glass coffee table in front.
Lando picked up a delicate slice of kueh lapis with his fork and took a bite, humming appreciatively at the sweetness. “This is dangerous,” he said, leaning back comfortably. “Jon’s definitely going to say something when I step on the scales.”
You chuckled, leaning into his shoulders. “Oh, just wait until Ah Ma sees you. She’ll tell you to eat more and probably have the kitchen make an entire feast just for you.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah ma’s great, but I don’t think I can keep up. You saw how much food was at dinner alone.”
“Ah Ma loves feeding people,” you replied with a small smile, reaching for one of the dumplings.
Lando grinned, his aquamarine eyes sparkling with humor. He broke a piece of ondeh-ondeh in half, letting the green glutinous skin stretch slightly before offering you a bite. “Here, try this.”
You took the offered piece and bit into it, the burst of sweet palm sugar making you hum in delight. “I missed this,” you said, savoring the flavor.
He took the other half for himself, nodding as he chewed. “Not bad,” he said, swallowing. “Though I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the texture.”
“You're surviving,” you teased, reaching for a slice of steamed yam cake.
As the conversation flowed, the topic shifted naturally to your plans for 2025. “I’ll come to more races next year,” you promised, setting the plate down. “I want to be there for as many as I can, and we should also travel more too—there are so many places we need to see together.”
Lando smiled, expression softening. “I love the sound of that, and you moving to Monaco, finally. I’ve been waiting for ages.”
“Well, my apartment’s already sorted,” you reminded him with a small shrug. “But I’ll come over to yours everyday. You won’t even notice the difference.”
“Or,” he suggested, leaning in closer, “you could just move in with me.”
You laughed, lightly nudging him. “Nice try, Romeo. My parents bought the apartment already, remember? I can’t just ditch it.”
“Fine,” he said dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “But I’m holding you to that promise. I expect to you at mine every single day.”
“I promise,” you replied as you gave him a soft peck on the lips.
Then, a resonant sound of a cambodian gong echoed through the house, immediately catching your attention. Moments later, your mother’s voice, calm yet commanding, carried through the room. She stood with your Auntie Alix by her side, gracefully addressing the guests, tone filled with warmth and gratitude.
“Thank you all so much for joining us this wonderful evening,” your mother began, pausing to let her words settle. “It’s such a joy to have everyone here, especially on this special evening.”
Auntie Alix smiled, chiming in, “we’d like to invite everyone to the courtyard now, to witness the blooming of the Tan Hua. It’s a rare and special occasion, and it feels even more meaningful to share it with all of you tonight.”
There was a soft murmur of excitement as the guests began to make their way toward the courtyard. You turned to Lando, who was already grabbing your plates from the table. Wordlessly, you followed suit, stacking the dishes carefully and walking together toward the area designated for the dirty dishes. You discarded them neatly, brushing your hands off before turning back to him.
Lando reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he often did, a reassuring gesture that made your heart settle. Together, you walked through the wide open doors that led to the courtyard. The cool evening air greeted you, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.
Ahead, the garden had transformed into an enchanting space, bathed in moonlight. The Tan Hua plant, placed on a pedestal under a canopy of soft lights, stood as the centerpiece. Its elegant, slender buds were illuminated in the gentle glow, and the pale moonlight seemed to highlight every delicate curve of the plant.
You noticed your Ah Ma nearby, two of her ladies-in-waiting carefully helped her into a chair that had been placed by the Tan Hua, with your Auntie Alix, your mother, and your Auntie Eleanor joining beside her. She moved slowly but with the dignity and grace that defined her. Faint murmurs of admiration around you quieted as everyone gathered closer.
The moment the first bloom began to open, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. The petals unfurled slowly, revealing a pristine white flower that seemed to glow against the dark backdrop of the night. One by one, the other buds followed suit, their blossoms opening in a synchronized rhythm as though they were performing just for this audience.
You glanced at Lando, who was watching with quiet amazement, his eyes reflecting the glow of the flowers. You couldn’t help but smile softly at his expression, the wonder evident on his face. Around you, people whispered in awe, voiced hushed as though afraid to disturb the magic of the moment.
“It’s beautiful,” Lando said quietly, voice barely above whisper.
You nodded, squeezing his hand gently as your eyes returned to the blooming Tan Hua. Your Ah Ma, seated serenely in her chair, looked on with a contented smile, her presence leading an even greater sense of significance to the moment. The flowers seemed almost otherworldly as they completed their bloom, each one perfect and untouched, the rarity of the event settling in for everyone present.
The party had now shifted to the expansive courtyard, with the guests scattered around tables adorned with crisp white linens and glowing centerpieces. The soft melodies of the live jazz band, now situated under a canopy of string lights that filled the evening air, lending an elegant yet relaxed atmosphere.
You and Lando made your way through the crowd, hand in hand, weaving between clusters of chatting relatives and friends, until you reached the section where your family was gathered. Your Auntie Alix was the first to notice you. Her warm smile lit up her face as she pulled you into a gentle hug.
“Dear, it’s so good to see you,” she said softly. “You look so lovely tonight, and Lando, as dashing as ever!” you thanked her with a laugh, glancing at Lando, who nodded politely in return.
Your Auntie Alix always had a way of making you feel at ease, she’s kind and a very down-to-earth woman. It always puzzled you how Eddie could have turned out so…different, given how wonderful both his parents are. You turned to your mother and gave her another hug, then lastly, your Auntie Eleanor, who stood with a poised air, gaze sharp yet affectionate. She acknowledged you and Lando with a nod.
“Good to see you,” she said briskly before allowing a small smile to break through. “Lando, congratulations on a successful season. You’ve done very well.” Lando thanked her sincerely, and you exchanged a few pleasantries before excusing yourselves to greet the woman you had been searching for all night—your Ah Ma.
She was seated regally in an ornate chair that is adorned with soft cushions, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting and closest confidantes. As you approached, you greeted her in Mandarin, your tone very respectful and warm.
“阿媽,很高興見到你,” (ah ma, it’s so good to see you) you said, dipping slightly in a gesture of reverence. Her face lit up instantly, her wrinkled hands reaching out to clasp yours.
“啊,我珍貴的孫女,” (ah, my precious granddaughter) she said, voice steady but laced with emotion. Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, and she smiled approvingly. “今晚你是如此美麗。 這件衣服,很適合你。 像蓮花一樣.” (you are so beautiful tonight. This dress suits you perfectly. Like a lotus flower)
You thanked her shyly, and her attention quickly shifted to Lando, her smile widening even more. She extended her arms toward him, and Lando, ever the gentleman, leaned down to embrace your Ah Ma warmly.
“Ah Ma, it’s so nice to see you again,” he said gently.
She chuckled, patting his arm as if Lando were a favored grandchild. “Lan Lan. You look very handsome,” she said in her Mandarin-laced English voice. “Why are you so skinny? Do you not eat? Have you eaten tonight?” her sharp eyes scanned him critically, tone carrying both affection and worry.
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, recalling your earlier conversation with Lando. He glanced at you, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile before responding, “Ah Ma, I ate earlier, and I’ve been eating tonight too. Don’t worry.”
She shook her head lightly, still unconvinced. “You need to eat more. Racing may be important, but health is more important.” her gaze softened further as she turned back to you both. “You must take care of each other,” she added firmly.
“Especially you,” she looked directly at you, her hand resting on yours, voice lowering in emphasis. “Take care of him, but also make sure you take care of yourself. Lando, make sure you also take care of her too. Always.”
Lando nodded earnestly, his voice steady. “I promise, Ah Ma. I’ll always take care of her.”
“Good,” she said simply, giving your hand one last squeeze before settling back into her chair.
Not long after, Nick and Rachel appeared, weaving their way through the guests until they reached your group. Your Ah Ma’s face lit up the moment she spotted Nick, her expression softening with a mix of happiness. She straightened in her chair, reaching out toward him as he approached.
“Nicky,” she said warmly, her voice carrying a slight tremble. “時間太長了。 太長了 你很幸運我還活着見到你,” (it has been too long. too long. you’re lucky I am still alive to see you) she added with a teasing yet heartfelt tone, eyes glistening faintly.
Nick crouches slightly to be at her eye level, taking her hands in his. “阿媽,我好想你,” (ah ma, I missed you so much) he said sincerely, his tone apologetic yet filled with affection. “對不起,我��了這麼長時間纔回來,” (i’m sorry it’s taken me this long to come back)
Your Ah Ma clicked her tongue softly, her grip firm. “重要的是你現在在這裏,” (what matters is that you are here now) she said, voice soft. “但不要讓我再等這麼久,明白嗎?” (but don’t make me wait this long again, understand?)
Nick nodded with a smile. “我不會的,阿媽,我保證.” (I won’t, Ah Ma. I promise)
Then, with a small glance over his shoulder, he gestured toward Rachel, who stood quietly beside him. “Ah Ma, I want you to meet someone very special to me.” he turned to Rachel, who stepped forward, expression poised but warm.
Rachel greeted your Ah Ma in Mandarin, her tone respectful and her words careful yet fluent. “阿媽,謝謝你邀請我去你美麗的家,” (ah ma, thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home) she said, dipping her head slightly. “尼克告訴我很多關於你的事,尤其是你的餃子。 他說你做得最好.” (nick has told me so much about you, especially about your dumplings. he says you make the best in the world)
Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes softened at Rachel’s words, a small smile tugging at her lip. “啊,沒什麼,” (ah, it’s nothing) she replied modestly. “如果你喜歡,我可以教你如何製作它們.” (if you like, I can show you how to make them)
Rachel’s face lit up, and she responded earnestly, “我會很榮幸的。 尼克高度評價他們,還有你.” (i would be honored. nick speaks so highly of them, and of you)
“很好,” (good) she said simply. “但是你必須很快來。 不是今晚,有太多的伸長脖子,流言蜚語。 下次,當它更安靜的時候.” (but you must come back soon. not tonight, there are too many craning necks and gossiping mouths. Next time, when it’s quieter)
You watched the exchange with a faint smile, pleased to see how your Ah Ma was beginning to warm up to Rachel—she might even end up really liking Rachel. It was clear that your Ah Ma appreciated Rachel’s efforts to respect tradition and connect with her.
As Nick and Rachel excused themselves right after the conversation they had with your Ah Ma, you discreetly turned your attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had remained silent during the interaction. She leaned towards your Auntie Jacqueline, who had joined the group just moments ago, she murmured in a low voice, her words clipped yet unmistakable.
“When children are away from home for too long, they forget who they are,” she said, gaze pointedly fixed on Nick and Rachel, who were now walking away, laughing softly and exchanging affectionate glances.
You caught the subtle disdain in her tone, her disapproving eyes lingering a second too long on the couple. They looked every but in love—completely engrossed in each other and blissfully unaware of the scrutiny that they were both under. Your Auntie Jacqueline hummed softly in response, neither agreeing or disagreeing, but her expression remained neutral as she sipped her champagne.
However, you on the other hand, felt a small flare of irritation at the remark, biting your tongue to keep from reacting, knowing it would only escalate matters. Instead, you turned your attention back to Lando, who gave your hand a gentle squeeze, as if silently reminding you to let it go.
The evening had stretched long, and though the party had been filled with laughter, music, and warmth of family, your energy was waning. As the guests began to filter out one by one, you and Lando moved through the courtyard, bidding polite goodbyes to your relative. Your Ah Ma gave you both a lingering hug, whispering for you to take care of yourself before letting you go, and by the time you reached your car, your social battery was completely drained.
The drive home was quiet, filled only with the hum of the engine and the occasional flicker of streetlights through the windows. Lando’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your dress, offering a wordless comfort.
When you finally arrived home, you sighed in relief, slipping off your heels the moment you crossed the threshold. The familiar sensation of the cool floor against your feet grounding you, and you wasted no time heading towards the bedroom, Lando trailing close behind.
As you entered the room, you turned to him and asked, “can you please unzip me?” your voice was soft, almost sleepy, gathering your hair and sweeping it to one side.
Lando stepped forward, his hands brushing lightly against your back as he found the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of your neck. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a quiet giggle as it tickled you.
“Lan, baby, stop it,” your tone was playful, though you didn’t move away.
“Just one,” Lando murmured, grinning as he finally slid the zipper down.
You slipped out of the dress carefully, draping it over the back of a chair before turning to Lando. “The wedding festivities start tomorrow,” you reminded him as you grabbed one of Lando's oversized white shirts to pull over yourself. “Colin and Araminta’s bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
Lando flopped onto the bed, watching you as you moved around the room. “I told Nick earlier that I won’t be able to make it to Colin’s party,” he said, propping his head on his hand. “I’ve got a last minute important Quadrant zoom meeting with Max tomorrow. But honestly, I don’t think Colin will even notice I’m missing. That guy will be too busy enjoying himself.”
“Well, let’s just hope that Colin and Nicky will have fun with the party that Bernard Tai had organized,” you snorted, heading to your walk-in closet to grab one of your suitcases. “But anyways, Rachel was invited to Araminta’s bachelorette party. It’s three days at Samsara Island.” you added, opening the suitcase and began to fold clothes into it.
Lando raised a brow. “Samsara Island?”
“Yeah, it’s a private island that her family owns,” you explained. “Rachel’s going, and I’m going too. She’ll need someone to look out for her.”
Lando sat up a little straighter. “Why? What’s the issue?”
You sighed. “Some of the girls Araminta invited are…well, vicious. They have a way of making anyone they see as an outsider feel unwelcome. I’m not letting Rachel deal with that alone.”
He reached out, tugging you gently towards him so you were standing between his legs. “You’re a good friend,” Lando said, hands softly settling on your waist. “But don’t let them drag you into any unnecessary drama, alright? Just keep an eye on Rachel and have some fun too.”
You smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ll try,” you said. “But someone has to make sure Rachel’s okay.”
“I know,” Lando said, voice light but sincere. “That’s why I’m glad she has you.”
You then continued to pack, and as you folded the last set of your clothes and placed them neatly into your suitcase, the room was filled with the quiet rustle of fabric and the occasional click of your luggage zippers. Lando was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, watching you thoughtfully.
”you know,” you began, glancing at him as you folded a light blouse, “I don’t think it went well when Nicky introduced Rachel to Auntie Eleanor tonight.”
Lando’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why do you think that?” he asked, tone curious but concerned.
You sighed softly, pausing to place the blouse carefully into the suitcase. “It was shown all over his face,” you explained. “Then when Nick and Rachel left after introducing Rachel to Ah Ma, I overheard her. She made a comment to Auntie Jacqueline about how children who are away from home for too long forget who they are.”
He shook his head, confusion evident. “But why?” he asked. “Rachel’s amazing. She’s kind, sweet, and educated, I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t your Auntie Eleanor like her?”
Straightening, you turned to him, leaning against the dresser for a moment. “It’s kind of complicated,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “It’s not about Rachel as a person—yes, everyone can see how nice, educated, and well mannered she is. But it’s more of where she comes from.”
Lando frowned, still not understanding. “What do you mean? She’s Chinese, right? I mean, that’s what matters to your family, isn’t it? That she shares the same culture?”
“Yes, she’s Chinese, sure. But she’s what some people here would call ABC—American Born Chinese.” you said. “She grew up in the states, and culturally, Rachel’s not the same as us. To someone like Auntie Eleanor, that’s a big deal. She sees Rachel as…not on the same level as our family.”
His confusion shifted to disbelief. “Not on the same level?” Lando repeated. “Why? Because she wasn’t born in Singapore?”
“It’s more than that. Auntie Eleanor is a very traditional woman, just like every woman in our family. To her, someone like Rachel doesn’t understand or respect our family’s values and traditions. And,” you hesitated for a moment, “she probably thinks Rachel is only with Nick because of our family’s money.”
Lando’s jaw tightened slightly. “That’s really ridiculous,” he said firmly. “Nick and Rachel clearly love each other. Even a blind person can see that.”
“I know, I know,” you agreed, letting out a sigh. “But Nick is the only child and son, and just like Uncle Philip, his father and Ah Ma’s only son—he's the presumptive heir to the family fortune. Auntie Eleanor wants someone for Nick who comes from the same kind of background, someone who’s good enough based on her standards. Kaki lang.”
“Kaki lang?” Lando repeated, head tilting at the unfamiliar phrase that caught his attention.
“It’s a Hokkien phrase,” you said with a small smile. “It means our kind of people. Someone who’s from the same world. In this case, someone from an old money family like ours.”
“So…is that what your family thinks about us?” Lando leaned back slightly, processing everything. “Do they think I’m not kaki lang?”
You closed your suitcase with a final zip and turned to him, moving to sit beside him on the bed. “Lan, baby,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “Definitely not. No. My family loves you. Ah Ma adores you. You saw how happy she was tonight when she saw you. My parents think you’re wonderful, they’ve never said a single bad thing about you.”
Lando looked at you, his expression still a little uncertain. “But…with all these expectations about family and background, I can’t help but wonder what they really think. I mean, you come from an environment where family and tradition are everything.”
You reached up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you. “Listen to me, Lando Norris,” you said firmly. “You’re part of my life, and my family has welcomed you with open arms. You saw it tonight—the way my Dad was so happy for you after your win, the way Ah Ma hugged you and told you to eat more. If they didn’t approve of you, they wouldn’t treat you that way at all.”
“You’re sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze softened as he searched your eyes.
You nodded. “A hundred percent. You don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks. You’re with me, and that’s all that matters.”
“Alright,” he murmured. “I trust you.”
You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “Good. Now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
Lando chuckled softly. “Yeah, especially for you. I’ll miss you while you’re off playing bodyguard for Rachel.”
You laughed, the sound light and warm. “I’ll miss you too.”
#Spotify#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris 4#ln4#lando norris x reader#lando norris x female!reader#lando norris x asian!reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#ln4 one shot#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#ln4 x reader#crazy rich asians
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wanted to show the progress on Mrs. Victoria cover page.
I did a lot of research and a lot of different sketches before landing on the first image, don't believe I just pulled it out of my butt lol. But once my choice was made I sketched it (the first two images) in a café between two meetings. 90% of creation is preparation.
After that I used the sketch as a template and traced it using vectors on Illustrator. It allowed me to rework the lines, angles and curves to make it regular and lisible.
The work is far from done, I just wanted to share the typographical work, which is one of my favorites.
Here are the titles of my first two books:
This one I just hand traced over an existing font, but I wanted to add an organic texture. The whole album was done like that.
And this one, I drew the title font myself, I quite like it.
I just like typography.
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Miscalculation
Dear Morifinwe,
I recently had the privilege of reading your treatise on Dwarven tariffs and found it fascinating reading indeed. I don’t suppose you hear that often. However, I was wondering if you could perhaps clarify the situation on the 36th page, just under the table of tares of standard shipping containers. I was under the impression when one converted between ounces and gallons (which, why aren’t you using liters as a standard unit of liquid measurement??), the multiplier is 0.0078126, but you have it listed as 0.0078125. Does the Naugrim measure alcoholic liquids differently? As you have only two sentences describing the conversion of Dwarvish mead, I can not determine whether it is a typographical error or if I have been misinformed. If the latter is the case, any more explicit suggestion or direction would be appreciated since (as I have pointed out) your explanation in the paper is relatively brief.
Sincerely yours,
Turukano
Dear Turukano,
I am delighted that you enjoyed my protocols for trade in East Beleriand! In regards to your question about whether dwarves measure alcohol differently than other liquids, no Turno, an ounce is an ounce. You have been misinformed. The conversion factor is indeed 0.0078125.
Thank you,
Carnistir Morifinwe,
Dear Moryo,
Thank you for the quick and brief reply. However, I digress, the conversion multiplier is 0.0078126. It was that in Tirion, and it is that now. Please explain your computations.
Looking forward to your reply,
Turukano
Dear Turno,
I am the one who devised that conversion. I don’t need to prove my work to you because I came up with it in the first place. Any possible discrepancies are due to rounding errors. The conversion is valid.
Carnistir
Dear Moryo,
I am well aware that you first calculated the conversion between ounces and gallons. I sat on the council that granted you the defense of such a claim, and if you will recall, I questioned your math then. You were wrong in Tirion, and you are wrong now.
Awaiting your reply,
Turgon
Turgon,
How delightful to know you remember our time together at the Royal Academy of Arts and Sciences. I have no recollection of your involvement in my defense, but I really try to avoid thinking of you. Were you there? I thought you were too busy being henpecked by the campus gulls to accomplish anything, research or otherwise.
Carnistir
Moryo,
I generally thought you were one of the better brothers; don’t be an ass. Just admit you are wrong.
Sincerely,
Turgon Turukano,
Lord of Nevarast,
High Prince of the Noldor
My dearest Turukano,
What a lovely title that is. Quite fitting for your already overinflated ego, but I genuinely hate to remind you that you are a second son and not, in fact, the High Prince of anything. Unless, of course, condolences are in order, then I also do not care because I find your brother infuriatingly obnoxious. I would feel for Nelyo, though.
Yours,
Moryo
Dear Carnistir,
Nelyo…remind me, is that your eldest brother or our grandfather? I can never remember who was born first, him or my father. Regardless, he’s ancient and an inappropriate match for my brother.
But I beseech you, dearest cousin. Please take a look at your defense from Tirion. I believe there is a note regarding the conversion on the final copy. I don’t have a copy with me, but I am sure you must have kept one for yourself.
Yours,
Turgon
My darling Turno,
At least we agree on one thing. Fingon and my brother are terrible for one another.
I do happen to have a copy in my archives. I will check for this mythical correction and have my scribe translate a copy for you. I will enclose it in my next reply, as it’s rather embarrassing to doubt the work of scholars.
With love,
Moryo
Turukano,
Fuck you. There was no correction; the rate has always been 0.0078125. This exchange has been a complete waste of my time, and I will implore Himring to approve an additional one point five percent tax on all limestone coming from and all other goods going to Vinyamar.
Sincerely,
Morifinwe
Despite all of Caranthir’s immense irritation, the final letter to Nevarast is returned some months later by an exhausted raven. Shortly thereafter, he receives word from Hithlum that Turgon and one-third of the Noldor forces in West Beleriand have disappeared.
@silmarillionepistolary
For @cilil (who suggested Caranthir and Tax Day as a prompt) and @dalliansss (who originally did the heavy lifting on building Caranthir’s taxation empire).
Miscalculation (on AO3)
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just found an incredible website with free fonts with support for many languages (vietnamese included!) and im obsessed
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I hate to be one of those “media literacy is dying/dead, academia is dead” people, but I feel like a lot of the misinformation and bias on apps like TikTok is because people don’t know what a source is and how to source information. People take everything as primary sources and not only that, but nobody uses the CRAAP test anymore.
CRAAP = currency, relevance, authority, accuracy, and purpose.
Currency: the timeliness of the information
When was the information published or posted?
Has the information been revised or updated?
Is the information current or out-of date for your topic?
Are the links functional?
Relevance: the importance of the information for your needs
Does the information relate to your topic or answer your question?
Who is the intended audience?
Is the information at an appropriate level (i.e. not too elementary or advanced for your needs)?
Have you looked at a variety of sources before determining this is one you will use?
Would you be comfortable using this source for a research paper?
Authority: the source of the information
Who is the author/publisher/source/sponsor?
Are the author's credentials or organizational affiliations given?
What are the author's credentials or organizational affiliations given?
What are the author's qualifications to write on the topic?
Is there contact information, such as a publisher or e-mail address?
Does the URL reveal anything about the author or source?
examples: .com (commercial), .edu (educational), .gov (U.S. government), .org (nonprofit organization), or .net (network)
Accuracy: the reliability, truthfulness, and correctness of the content, and
Where does the information come from?
Is the information supported by evidence?
Has the information been reviewed or refereed?
Can you verify any of the information in another source or from personal knowledge?
Does the language or tone seem biased and free of emotion?
Are there spelling, grammar, or other typographical errors?
Purpose: the reason the information exists
What is the purpose of the information? to inform? teach? sell? entertain? persuade?
Do the authors/sponsors make their intentions or purpose clear?
Is the information fact? opinion? propaganda?
Does the point of view appear objective and impartial?
Are there political, ideological, cultural, religious, institutional, or personal biases?
Why does nobody question the amount of asks and posts of people saying: “Hello, my name is *insert Arab name* and I need to get out of Gaza, please send me money to help me get out of Gaza.” We see all these videos of Gazans (some of the videos are actually of syrian people), but why does nobody question why there was a camera recording?
Why was there a camera perfectly in place at the right moment and the right time?
Why does nobody vet their sources anymore?
Why are people shutting down opinions from one side because that’s the side that is deemed as “evil” to them? To the point where the fucking HOUTHIS are being celebrated????!!!!! Hezbollah and ISIS are congratulated! All to hate the Jews.
Why are lies being passed as truth?
Why are conspiracy theories being regurgitated at such a high level?
Why are people failing to recognise their own logical fallacies?
These tiktokers call themselves journalists, yet forget about the ethics of journalism and journalistic integrity standards.
#Asks#anonymoose#antisemitism#those ppl always screaming ‘why isn’t anyone talking about this on the news???’#meanwhile it’s being vetted and fact checked out the ass and that’s why it’s taking time to report it#a single tiktok is not enough evidence for a news story to the whole world#be so fucking for real rn
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Baby Hero was born with congenital adrenal hyperplasia (CAH), a condition that affects the production of hormones in his body. Having CAH makes Hero intersex, and the type of CAH he has requires lifetime medication.
The couple is also able to secure some financial help from the Department of Social Welfare and Development. But explaining her son’s condition to the personnel handling her requests is always a pain, as they often don’t understand what CAH is.
The plight of the intersex community rarely comes into the national spotlight. But one time it did was when the Supreme Court (SC) sided with Jeff Cagandahan in a 2008 landmark ruling that paved the way for the community’s rights.
In 2003, at a regional trial court (RTC) in Laguna, Jeff filed for changes in his birth certificate, namely the change of his name from “Jennifer” to “Jeff,” and his gender from “female” to “male.”
The RTC sided with Jeff, though the Office of the Solicitor General tried to reverse the decision. In the end, the SC upheld it, saying that Jeff let nature take its course in allowing his body to reveal male characteristics. He was allowed to change his name and gender in his birth registry.
“Respondent is the one who has to live with his intersex anatomy. To him belongs the human right to the pursuit of happiness and of health. Thus, to him should belong the primordial choice of what courses of action to take along the path of his sexual development and maturation,” the decision read, penned by the late former associate justice Leonardo Quisumbing.
Jeff later on co-founded Intersex Philippines, and currently serves as a co-chair of Intersex Asia. Intersex Philippines has over 200 members.
Though it’s been more than a decade since Jeff’s legal victory, the lack of public awareness about intersex people and their concerns generally remained in the Philippines, even among medical professionals.
For instance, while there are plenty of endocrinologists across the Philippine health system, Jeff said that it is difficult to find “intersex-friendly” endocrinologists, who do not push intersex people to undergo procedures to conform with the sex they were assigned at birth.
Access to medicine remains the biggest challenge for intersex people in the Philippines, according to Jeff. Based on their group’s research, just one specialty compounding pharmacy, Apotheca, produces the medicines that most in their community need. It’s Metro Manila-based, which makes it even harder for those in the provinces to access them.
Jeff constantly receives reports of children with life-threatening intersex variations who succumb to their condition, as their parents were unable to acquire the medications that could have kept them alive.
According to Intersex Philippines, some intersex children undergo irreversible, unnecessary surgeries and treatment without their consent. Some also experience emotional harm from this treatment.
In November 2023, Bataan 1st District Representative Geraldine Roman filed the Cagandahan Bill in Congress, which seeks to make what Jeff achieved more accessible to intersex Filipinos.
While Republic Act No. 9048, enacted in 2001, allows Filipinos to correct clerical and typographical errors in their civil registry offices without judicial orders, the bill said that this does not “explicitly address the unique circumstances of intersex individuals.” Having their legal documents amended to align with their identities would acknowledge an intersex person’s right to self-determination, it said.
2024 Apr. 6
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the university campus i go to has a bunch of ... idk something like printers or scaners or something around the floors, some complicated but definitely tech stuff related to typographics. i want to fuck them all so badly omg. i should really research these things to find out what they are
#robotfuckerconfessions#robot fucker#robot fucking#robotfucker#robophilia#robotfucking#asfr#mechanophilia#technophilia#robot nsft#no I get it because I studied graphic design and I wanted to fuck the risograph printer so badly
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Abigale Backstory Rewrite
(the old vers here was.. not accurate with the "women can't have higher education" thing that the 1800s had)
Her father Mortimer Blackwing was a brilliant man,the man who invented the typographer Braille sewing machine the wrench the loom and various other things. She watched her father create technological masterpieces with awe and wonder,and she was lucky to be as brilliant as him. Mortimer taught her everything she knew,and was the very reason why she's such an excellent inventor today. Abigale never knew her mother Constance Blackwing (née Kimbrough) as she and Mortimer filed for a divorce when she was born,the two were too different with Constance desiring to make it on her own with her fashion company while Mortimer wanted to start a family. Abigale created more and more wonderful works the older she got,going from a simple telegraph machine at age 17 to an elaborate carriage at age 21.
Her brilliance was so great that her father wanted her to go to college as he wanted to share her talent wit the world, although knowing that a woman would never be given a higher education,he had to improvise by making a whole alter ego for his daughter in the form of her male cousin Adriel complete with a fake birth certificate and Abigale wore the old clothes her father had as a young man. Adriel was staying with his uncle Mortimer so he could pay for "his" scholarship and thus Abigale was able to become accepted into the Alabama Polytechnic Institute to study engineering in order to improve her tinkering skills.
She then graduated with flying colors but not before ending the graduation with a bang,literally,she exploded the entrance to the university with a new cannon she made. Abigale was then able to build her own engineering research facility called the Blackwing Institute with her father's help,the inventor supporting her every step of the way while she maintained her Adriel persona. Things were going well for the genius,until a fellow researcher of hers falsified documents of her apparently embezzling from a successful oil company in order to fund her inventions 10 years later. With the perpetrator doing such in order to "expose" Abigale as a fraud and thus disgrace her from her position,as the man was jealous about the fact that an inexperienced younger man such as Adriel had his works recognized more than him who spent years honing his craft.
She was then kicked out of the Blackwing Institute and her father stopped believing in her,the man regretting his decision to support such an atrocious person. This permanently broke Abigale as the reputation she worked so hard to build as well as the fact that the only family she had now hates her were such devastating events to her. Abigale was down on her luck as she then had to use her college grant money to buy a small apartment as she used to live in the Blackwing Institute building but now that's not an option anymore. She sought revenge against the perpetrator as she planned on making a machine to agonizingly torment and kill him.
However a certain evil demon triangle appeared before her and told her he could do something much more horrific and satisfying than torturing the perpetrator,if she just gave him her help with a different machine. "Hey,Goggles. Down on your luck?,hit rock bottom?. Yeesh. How the mighty have fallen,like they say." Bill says as Abigale then rubbed her eyes to see if she wasn't hallucinating from the sleep deprivation caused by her thinking about the torture device all week,only realizing that the creature before her was real once she blinked and it didn't disappear. "I don't need your pity,demon. Leave me alone to deal with my failure and maybe i won't have to throw purifying salt in your eye." Abigale remarks in frustration,turning away from the creature as she just wanted to get her life back without this thing distracting her. "Rude. I just want to help. That dumb traitor of yours?,i can do SO MUCH MORE than just torture him like that machine you're building can do. I can turn his organs inside out,i can give him nightmares that'll be so painful that he'd want to kill himself. Just do a favor for me,and i'll do a favor for you in dealing with that pesky double-crosser. And i can even give you your reputation back." Bill replied as he then held out his flaming hand for the woman to shake,the inventress considering the offer as she hesitantly held out her own hand as she then pulled away to figure out what she's getting into. "I will do it. But first, what do you want from me?." Abigale asks while looking at the beast straight in the eye. "I just need your tinkering skills for my own project. A huge steel mechanism that'll be able to let other worlds bleed into yours,and i can't do it without your skilled hands. Making that portal will give you your life back,the world will rue the day they made a mockery of you with those claims of fraud once they see how brilliant you really are." Bill explains as he sneaked in some praise with his explanation in order to make the woman seal the deal. "That sounds extraordinary. And i do want to have the last laugh whenever i make fun of those traitors in their faces once i make something great enough to make them regret ever doubting me. I accept your proposition." Abigale replied as she then firmly shook the triangle's hand,the creature grinning as the woman just fell into his trap. Abigale then went on to create the portal while following instructions from Bill,although he told her that they needed six stout men to fully operate the device so he didn't let her finish until he gets those men.
Abigale later became weary as she lost sleep and barely ate while building the portal as "William Lucipher" refused to let her rest from his impatience regarding the machine despite knowing that she would drop dead at this rate. He kept working her to the bone without any time to deal with her other projects until Abigale snapped and confronted him about this issue. She remarks that she won't be able to work on the portal properly without going insane from the lack of sleep and lack of food while Bill tells her to walk it off,Abigale then tries to quit the project but then Bill threatens to strangle her as he says that she's bluffing and that she would never give up on her life's work but he did let her rest for exactly three weeks in order to stop her whining. Abigale then distanced herself from the triangle as she started to realize that she got into something much bigger than she thought. She kept ignoring his visits,she used special crystals to successfully ward off the demon from her house and her mind,as well as stopped working on the portal while still leaving it intact in fear of what the creature would do if she destroyed it. Bill got more and more impatient from the woman as he reluctantly let her have her break,starting to think that she wasn't resting and was actively revolting against him. His suspicion proved to be true once he realized that he can't go into her mind or possess her,discovering that she's been using some strange crystals to prevent him from doing so. He then angrily destroyed the crystals after he managed to break the barrier that the crystals made with his hands,he then possessed the woman in her sleep and began to commit crimes while using her body in order for Abigale to wake up to a burning Alabama town and a letter detailing her exile as revenge for the genius DARING to go against him.
Abigale was furious and upset upon realizing that she's now been banished from her beloved town all because of that dastardly demon committing fraud (she actually *DID* commit fraud this time) murdering people and burning everything down with her hands,no longer being able to rebuild her life again since her home and her family are now gone. She then sought to kill that triangle for destroying her life and ruining her chances of regaining success. And as if a miracle were performed before her,she found an article that detailed exactly that. An article written by a fellow named Thurburt who was also tormented by the creature and is now seeking out other fellows to help get rid of William Lucipher. She then went to the address and found three other fellows who want to destroy the triangle. Abigale is going to get that success and regain her life back,no matter what cost.
@aria-greenhoodie
#gravity falls headcanons#gravity falls hcs#anti cipher society#anti bill cipher society#anti cipherites#abigale blackwing#canon divergence#canon divergence au#canon divergent#gravity falls#gravity falls writing#gravity falls fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction
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Typographer Research - Paul Renner
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Paul Renner, born in 1878, was a German graphic designer and typographer celebrated for his groundbreaking work in modern typography. His most enduring legacy lies in the creation of Futura, an iconic typeface with its sleek lines and geometric simplicity.
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In 1927, Renner introduced Futura. Futura swiftly gained popularity, becoming synonymous with the Bauhaus movement and modernist design ethos. During World War II, Paul Renner faced challenges due to his opposition to the Nazi regime's cultural policies. His books were banned, and his printing press was confiscated. Despite these obstacles, Renner persevered, continuing to contribute to typography through writing and teaching.
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#lsad#art#graphic designer#graphic design#poster#design#typography#text#font#futura#research#graphic art
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advertising is literally so embarrassing on a conceptual basis from the ground up. like, i know for any given ad i see, after a rube goldberg machine of human misery has been slung into action during the last microseconds of every pageview i take -- primarily the reason any site's page load times remain like 56k dialup from the 90s -- meanwhile, an auction machine algorithm clearinghouse has sold my eyes based on the attributes they were able to cull from a covert op surveillance database, so that an image could be sold for pennies on the dollar regarding a product i will literally never buy. but it's none of that. what gets me is that each of these images were painstakingly designed by some dozen strong demon horde of college graduates who lost their soul before they matriculated, focus groupped again for pennies on the dollar so that the people in the focus group can try to form a meaningless opinion on a subject that matters to no one, in exchange for a gift card, probably, but by the time it's gotten there it's already gone through research and development and design phases, each scrobbling for a scrap of bread under threat of starvation, blindly insisting they know something about selling things that every other marketing office populated by vultures and guttersnipes doesn't, and this is all before they send it to the graphic designer that painstakingly selects a pantone swatch from their adobe subscription and a font that a typographer sold for someone's real money to slather on top of this brilliant sales idea that's been flushed down the sewer of commerce. and at the end of it all, "THAT'S what you came up with? bit shit innit" is what i find myself saying every time before i select the x the size of a hydrogen atom to tell a database at google that the whole experience was offensive
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Original Content Writing Week 7 (3)
What is meaningful data to answer/address your research question?
My Research Question: How does engagement change when posts show the process of creation rather than only a final typographic design?
Meaningful data is going to be views and comments. I also want to look through the comments and find common patterns within what the audience is actually saying back to the creators. I feel like the artistic community is very good at giving critiques and feedback so I want to analyze that as well. I think the comments are going to be my central piece of data I will be analyzing and the views can be tied in during the analysis to supports some of my claims as well. I think the views are a little less trustworthy because all the views aren't necessarily from the specific typographic audience, the posts could show up on anyones feed so I think the comments will bring out the primary artistic audience.
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Do you know Yates County?: Yates County Oddity No. 27 through No. 52
By Jonathan Monfiletto
Anyone who has conducted research either through Yates County’s digitized newspapers or the Yates County History Center’s subject files has likely come across items titled either “Penn Yan Oddity” or “Yates County Oddity.” These items – snippets might be a good word – provide information about various aspects of local history, seeming to answer some sort of question or mystery.
Seeing so many of these snippets – and finding the answers but seeming not to find the question – I decided to scour our digitized newspaper database to see if I could find all of them, the questions with the answers. It turns out the oddities – 90 Penn Yan Oddity items, 52 Yates County Oddity items – were part of an advertising campaign in the 1940s for Baldwin’s Bank, then located at 127 Main St. in Penn Yan, the present-day home of the Arts Center of Yates County.
The Penn Yan Oddities ran in The Chronicle-Express in consecutive weeks from February 20, 1947 to November 11, 1948, and then the Yates County Oddities picked up right away in the newspaper from November 18, 1948 to November 24, 1949. So, for more than 2 and a half years, readers of The Chronicle-Express learned something about local history each week in the newspaper.
Each item started out as an advertisement for Baldwin’s Bank with the phrase “Do You Know Yates County?” at the top of the graphic followed by the question for the week. In the middle, the bulk of the ad, would appear information about the bank’s various services and offerings. The bottom would direct the reader to look for the answer elsewhere on the same page and then look for another Oddity the following week.
In this article, I present Yates County Oddity No. 27 through No. 52. Each question and answer has been transcribed exactly as it appeared in the newspaper, which changes made only for typographical errors and not for grammatical errors. The only time words have been removed from the items is in the case of references to photographs that appeared in the newspaper.
27) How many Lake Keuka cottages in Yates County?
There are 1,800 dwellings along the shores of Lake Keuka, according to the county made this past fall by John V. Stark, compiler of the new Lake Keuka directory. Of these 850 are in Yates county.
Here’s the breakdown: cottages (not lived in the year around) on Lake Keuka number 1,480; in Yates county 640. Year-around residences, either on Lake Keuka shore or on the lake roads, number 320, of which 210 are in Yates county.
28) How many miles of lake shore in the county?
More than half of the Lake Keuka shore line is in Yates county. Supervisor John V. Stark estimates 35 of the approximate 60 are in Yates. Some 9 miles of Canandaigua lake shore lie within Yates and some 20 miles of the west shore of Seneca, which gives Yates a total of about 64 miles of shore line, much of which is available for summer homes.
Since there are 348 square miles in this county of about 17,000 population, there is a mile of lakefront for every 260 persons and for every five square miles of lake. Is there any other county in the Empire state with a greater lake frontage per square mile of area?
29) What Yates pioneer helped chain the Hudson?
With his two yoke of oxen, Eliphalet Hull helped in placing the great chain across the Hudson near West Point to prevent the British ships from sailing up the Hudson. Mr. Hull later became of the noted pioneers of Benton township, the first Methodist class leader west of Utica.
30) What Grange founder was born and buried here?
Francis Marion McDowell was born near Wayne, just beyond Yates county and died in 1894, his grave being in the Lake View cemetery, Penn Yan. He was one of seven founders of the national grange, holding the office of treasurer for 20 years.
31) Which town touches the most other Yates towns?
Milo township touches five other Yates county townships: Benton on the north, Torrey on the east, Starkey and Barrington on the south, and Jerusalem, for a short distance with a land-to-land boundary, on the west. If intervening lake were ignored, Jerusalem would also have five Yates towns touching.
But Jerusalem, along with Potter and Benton, each directly border four other Yates townships.
32) How many Yates towns have lake frontage?
All but two of the Yates county townships border upon at least one of the Finger lakes and Milo has frontage on two – Seneca and Keuka.
With Bluff Point jutting deep into Keuka to give her the characteristic “Y” shape, Jerusalem claims by far the greatest lake frontage of any township. Italy has the least, barely cutting across the southern end of Canandaigua lake. Potter town alone is landlocked.
Middlesex fronts on Canandaigua; Barrington on Keuka; Benton, Torrey, and Starkey on Seneca lake.
Before days of the railroad and auto trucks, convenient outlet to the lakes was all important as a means of transportation. Today it means resort business.
33) What four towns have the most population?
According to the 1940 census Milo, Starkey, Jerusalem, and Benton led the Yates county population count in that order. Potter, Barrington, Torrey, Middlesex, and Italy followed.
Work has already started on the 1950 census. Will the Yates county population of 16,338, as revealed by the 1940 count, be greater or less? It has been declining in recent years by small amounts.
34) How many mail routes are there in the county?
There are a total of 21 mail collection and delivery routes in Yates county, exclusive of the Star routes.
Of the six village routes five are Penn Yan letter carriers and the sixth is the carrier in Dundee. Of the 15 rural delivery routes, five emanate from the Penn Yan post office, three from Dundee, two from Branchport, and one each from Rushville, Middlesex, Himrod, Bluff Point, and Rock Stream.
35) Is Yates the smallest county in the state?
Yates county is not the smallest county in New York state, measured by population or area.
According to the last federal census Putnam, Schuyler and Hamilton counties had less population than Yates, whereas 11 other counties had fewer than the 343 square miles of area included within the boundaries of Yates. Among these smaller counties are most of the densely occupied areas of metropolitan New York – such as Kings, Queens, Bronx, Rockland, Richmond, Nassau, and others.
36) Where is the highest spot in Yates County?
The highest point in Yates county is in Italy township southwest of Italy Hill village, about where a bomber crashed during the war, killing the entire crew. The altitude at this point is given as 2,130 feet above sea level on some maps, a little less on others.
37) How many churches in Yates County?
There are 41 churches in Yates county in which services of worship are held regularly or frequently. This does not include the Garrett Memorial chapel or isolated and independent congregations which meet in halls or homes.
38) What Yates man invented milk tablets?
J. Robert Hatmaker of Paris, formerly of Milo township, 45 years ago was gaining fame as inventor of the process for reducing milk to tablet form. The German emperor had ordered thousands of these tablets and was sending quantities of them to his troops in Manchuria.
39) Where is biggest rock in the county?
The late Berlin Hart Wright, local naturalist, believes that the big boulder on the east side of Italy valley is the largest rock in the county. Brought here by glaciers some 2,500 miles from the Laurentian mountains in Canada, it measures some 25 by 15 feet above the ground and weighs an estimated 350 tons.
40) Where is oldest cemetery in Yates?
City Hill cemetery on the west hill above Seneca lake, south of Dresden, established in 1788 by followers of the Universal Friend and early settlers of this area, is the oldest cemetery in what was then known as the Genesee country and is the oldest in the county.
41) What unique Yates monument honors a woman?
The boulder and plaque on the west shore of the West branch of Lake Keuka, just south of Branchport, at the time of its erection 16 years ago, was the only monument erected in the United States to honor an Indian woman. The mother of Red Jacket, famed Indian chief and orator who lived in thish section is honored by the unique monument.
42) What is our latitude?
Yates county is situated at 42.5 degrees north latitude, as far north of the equator as are: northern Spain, central Italy, Vladivostok, in Siberia, southern Manchuria and north central China.
43) Which railroad bridge is highest?
The highest railroad bridge in Yates county is the span which carries the Pennsylvania tracks over Big Stream at Glenora. At this point the tracks are 102 feet above the stream bed. The Rock Stream span is 71 feet high and the bridge over the Keuka Lake outlet at Penn Yan is 50.
The first bridge of pine timbers built in the (1850s), when the railroad line from Watkins to Canandaigua was put through was some 90 feet above the bed of the gorge. About 1893 the present steel span was erected just west of the old wooden structure, which was then torn down.
44) In what square mile of rural Yates lie the most roads?
The greatest concentration of public highways in anyway square mile of rural Yates county appears to be at the tip of Bluff Point where a car can traverse an estimated eight miles of different roads without going beyond the limits of a square mile area.
45) When was wheat first raised in Yates?
The first bushel of wheat grown in western New York is said to have been raised in Yates county.
A note in the old family Bible of Richard Smith, one of the followers of Jemima Wilkinson who settled on the west shores of Seneca lake, south of the present village of Dresden, reports grinding 10 bushels of winter wheat raised in this vicinity. This was in 1789 and was ground in the first grist mill in this part of the “pioneer west.” The mill, erected on the outlet, opposite of what is now Seneca Mills, was first ready for use July 4, 1790. Previous to then grain was taken by horseback to a mill in Pennsylvania for grinding.
46) Where was Yates County’s source of pearls?
The late Edwin C. Dinturff had some beautiful necklaces and jewelry pieces made from pearls which he took from clams that once thrived in Flint creek, where it entered Potter swamp near Potter Center. Edible fresh water clams are still found in some local streams.
47) What Elm Street residence was once situated on Main Street?
The residence of Mr. and Mrs. William D. Allison, 133 Elm St., was once situated in Main street. As a matter of fact, on April 5, 1911, it was located in the very center of the business section as it was being moved to make room for the present post office building.
By means of block and tackle and a team of horses, it was rolled down Main street to the four corners and thence on Elm to its present location, the second house west of the parking station. One of the biggest jobs was removing the trolley wire on Elm street and suspending trolley traffic to make possile moving the large dwelling. The other residence removed from the post office location is now used as a dwelling at the foot of Champlin avenue. A picture of the moving appears in the window of the Baldwins bank.
48) In Yates which was first – Italy or Naples?
In Europe, Naples was a part of Italy, but here Italy was a part of Naples. The township of Italy, Yates county, was organized by act of legislature Feb. 15, 1815, it being set off from the township of Naples, Ontario count. The origin of the name is not known.
Italy township grew in population to 1698 persons in 1845. Now, a century later, it is estimated at about 500 population.
49) Where is the smallest post office building?
Rock Stream residents have claimed that their post office, recently abandoned for one located in the community store, was the smallest in the United States. El Dorado, Calif., is one place which contends it has a smaller post office, but has not sent in the exact dimensions, as yet.
In the meantime the residents in the southern end of Yates county can boast of having had the smallest post office in Yates county. The building, which measures 12 by 24 feet and 9 foot walls, is now being converted into living quarters.
50) What Penn Yan home has hickory shade trees?
The shade trees in the lawn in front of the home of Miss May E. Decker, 203 Clinton street, Penn Yan, are hickory nut trees – so far as we can learn the only dwelling in the county seat which depends upon hickory nut trees for shade. There are maples, however, between the walk and the curb.
51) Is population mostly village or rural?
According to the last Federal census figures, Yates county’s population is more rural than village. The total population of the four incorporated villages – Penn Yan, Dundee, Rushville, and Dresden – was listed as 7,001, whereas the total population of the entire county was estimated at 16,338. These are 1940 figures.
52) How much will be paid out in Christmas Club checks?
When three of the Yates county banks send their Christmas club checks to the more than 1700 club members, which is being done in Penn Yan this week Saturday, the total amount of the Christmas club checks will be about $115,000.
#historyblog#history#museum#archives#american history#us history#local history#newyork#yatescounty#newspaper#chronicleexpress#yatescountyoddity
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Collection of Research on Chinese Typography (中文文字设计研究选集) A three-volume collection of on-going research and writing about typography and design in China. Includes coverage of typography and design's history and development, conventions and contemporary practices, as well as applications in transcultural contexts.
Available at Draw Down Books
This set has been produced by The Type (Type is Beautiful), an online platform that has promoted an awareness of typography and design to the Chinese-speaking public for over ten years. The Type introduces Western typographic theories and knowledge to its readers, conducts independent research on Chinese typography, and aims to address both typography education in China, and the lack of exchange Chinese designers have typically had with the international community of designers.
This compact set includes:
上海活字:管窥现代中文字体设计史 Shanghai Type: A Slice of Modern Chinese Type History
The development of Chinese type design since the foundation of the People’s Republic in 1949 has cast a significant influence on contemporary practice. Yet this history has remained as much a mystery to the outside world as to local designers. This volume, based on designer Li Zhiqian's Shanghai Type research project, illuminates a portion of modern Chinese type design's history—tracing how it began as a groundbreaking state-initiated endeavor, and then gradually was transformed, fading in the age of commercialization. Consultant: Chen Qirui. Edited by Richor Wang.
跨文化字体设计:中文语境下的讨论 Transcultural Type Design: a Dialogue from China
Among Chinese-speaking designers, discourse around transcultural typography is still in its infancy. This volume is the record of the first of a series of open discussions moderated by The Type, which addresses both this global trend as well as the debate and strategies that are specific to the Chinese context. Moderated by Mira Yang, with panelists Peiran Tan, Li Zhiqian, Zheng Chuyang, Du Xiyao, Tien-min Liao, and Roman Wilhelm.
孔雀计划:重建中文排版的思路 Kǒngquè: Restoring the Mindset of Chinese Typesetting
The convention and wisdom of Chinese typography that was developed over centuries has failed to be inherited by designers today. This is caused partially by the domination of Latin-orientated computer software, coupled with negligence in Chinese design education. The Kǒngquè project aims to fill this gap by revisiting the typographic traditions of China in the modern context and restoring the traditions and mindset of native Chinese typography. By Eric Liu.
Editor-in-Chief: Rex Chen Series Editor: Mira Ying Translators: Hui Jing, Peiran Tan
Designed by Atmosphere Office
Published by The Type, 2020 Bilingual, text in English and Chinese
3 volumes: (Shanghai Type) 116 pages, with 2-color 7.5 × 11 inch mini-poster / (Transcultural Type Design) 122 pages / (Kǒngquè) 104 pages, b&w, 4.3 × 5.75 inches
ISBN: 978-1-91-624848-0-7
#Chinese Typography#Chinese Typesetting#Transcultural Type Design#Type Design#Chinese Type History#Type History#Typography Books#Type Books#Draw Down Books#Atmosphere Office#Chinese-English Design Books
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Typography Tuesday
Women Type Designers: LAURA MESEGUER
This week we present examples from the Ella type family designed by Catalan freelance graphic and type designer Laura Meseguer from Ella: Between Stencil and Calligraphy, one of four volumes in the set Mujeres Hispanas y Tipografía, a program highlighting the talent and creativity of Hispanic women designers, published in Pasadena, California by the Hoffmitz Milken Center for Typography in 2022.
Ella began as a morphological type design study to explore how classic calligraphy models could be adapted inro a stencil-style typeface and perform as a contemporary digital typeface. Meseguer writes:
My interest in stencil type began when I was a graduate student in the Type and Media program at the Koninklijke van Beeldende Kunsten (KABK) in the Netherlands in 2003-2004. I wa introduced to Fred Smeijers’s research and practice on stencil type, whose typographic explorations profoundly influenced my work. . . . Ella. . .[is] a family of stencil fonts inspired by traditional calligraphic models that perform collectively as a humanist text and display typeface. It was developed in the spring of 2021 during my residency at the Hoffmitz Milken Center for Typography.
Ella currently consists of four styles: Roman, Uncial, Rustic, and Brutalist, in two weights, Normal and Negrita. We are only showing the first three. The uppercase Roman, Uncial, and Rustic styles share the Roman lowercase, while the Brutalist has its own lowercase set.
Laura Meseguer specializes in custom lettering and personalized type design for branding and publicationos. She also designs and produces typefaces for her digital type foundry, Type-Ø-Tones. She teaches typography at Elisava, Barcelona School of Design and Engineering, and at Tipo-g, School of Typography of Barcelona, which she founded and coordinates.
View posts on other Women Type Designers.
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#Typography Tuesday#typetuesday#Typography Tuesday#women's history month#type designers#women type designers#women designers#Laura Meseguer#Ella typeface#Ella: Between Stencil and Calligraphy#Mujeres Hispanas y Tipografía#Hoffmitz Milken Center for Typography#Type-Ø-Tones#21st century type
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Graphic Design Communication
Artist Research
A.M. Cassandre (1901 - 1968)
A.M. Cassandre was a renowned French graphic designer, poster designer and Typographer. His posters are characterised by their bold, geometric compositions, vibrant colours and striking imagery. I think my favourites are the wine posters he did for the wine distributor Nicolas. I love the simple shapes and how the red wine glows.
Cassandre also designed his own typefaces.
Bifur: His first designed typeface. Made up of upper-case letters only, wasn't very popular, but looks quite interesting in my opinion.
Peignot: after several years of research and experimentation, this sans serif typeface proved to be a success as well as a major contribution to Typography. It featured on many posters throughout the 1940's, and used for the logo of the TV production company Viacom.
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