#Private celebration at Private yacht

[eventvenuesingapore-venuexplorer]

Meeting at National Gallery Singapore

Introduction

Meeting at National Gallery Singapore a bastion of art and culture gracefully occupies the historic precincts of the former Supreme Court and City Hall buildings. Its partnership with Venuexplorer an innovative platform linking event planners with distinctive venues promises an unparalleled meeting experience. In this comprehensive guide we delve into the myriad reasons for choosing National Gallery Singapore for your meetings explore the offerings of Venuexplorer and provide a step-by-step roadmap for hosting successful events at this iconic venue.

Why Choose National Gallery Singapore for Meetings?

Historical Significance Nestled within the architectural splendor of the former Supreme Court and City Hall buildings National Gallery Singapore exudes a blend of heritage and modernity. The venue's rich historical significance sets a captivating backdrop for meetings providing attendees with a sense of reverence and inspiration.

Cultural Immersion Immerse your meeting attendees in a world of art and culture with access to the gallery renowned exhibitions and installations. National Gallery Singapore offers a unique opportunity to integrate art appreciation sessions or guided tours into your meeting agenda fostering creativity and intellectual stimulation among participants.

Versatile Spaces National Gallery Singapore boasts a diverse array of spaces ranging from intimate boardrooms to grand halls catering to various meeting sizes and formats. Whether you are hosting a formal conference or a dynamic brainstorming session the venue offers the perfect setting to suit your objectives.

State-of-the-Art Facilities Experience seamless presentations and discussions with the venue's state-of-the-art facilities. From advanced audiovisual equipment to high-speed internet connectivity National Gallery Singapore provides the technological support necessary for a productive meeting environment.

Exploring Venuexplorer's Offerings for Meetings

Curated Venue Selection Venuexplorer meticulously curates a selection of unique venues ensuring a diverse range of options to accommodate every event need. Within National Gallery Singapore event planners can browse through an extensive collection of venues handpicked for their distinctiveness and functionality.

Customized Packages Benefit from customized packages tailored to your specific meeting requirements and budget constraints. Collaborate with Venuexplorer to design a bespoke package that caters to your event's unique needs from catering options to logistical support.

Expert Assistance Tap into Venuexplorer's expertise and industry knowledge to streamline the event planning process. With a team of event specialists offering professional guidance and support Venuexplorer ensures a stress-free planning experience from start to finish.

Step-by-Step Guide to Hosting a Meeting at National Gallery Singapore

Define Your Objectives Begin by clearly outlining the goals and objectives of your meeting to guide the planning process effectively. Whether your meeting aims to inform brainstorm, strategize, or network, defining objectives is crucial for crafting a tailored agenda.

Select the Ideal Space Choose a venue within National Gallery Singapore that aligns with your meeting's purpose, size, and format. Consider factors such as seating capacity, layout options, and audiovisual requirements when making your selection to ensure a conducive environment for collaboration and engagement.

Plan Logistics Coordinate logistics such as catering, equipment rentals, and transportation to ensure a seamless event execution. Communicate your requirements to Venuexplorer's team to facilitate smooth logistics coordination and vendor management, alleviating potential stressors for the event planner.

Promote Engagement Design an interactive agenda that encourages attendee participation and fosters meaningful discussions. Incorporate icebreakers, Q&A sessions, and group activities to keep attendees engaged and invested throughout the meeting, maximizing the value of their participation.

Evaluate Success Gather feedback from attendees post-event to evaluate the meeting's success and identify areas for improvement. Utilize insights gained to refine future meeting strategies and enhance overall event effectiveness, ensuring continuous improvement in meeting outcomes.

Tips for Enhancing Your Meeting Experience

Embrace Creativity Leverage the artistic ambiance of National Gallery Singapore to inspire creativity and innovation among attendees. Incorporate art-inspired elements into your meeting design and activities, fostering a stimulating environment conducive to out-of-the-box thinking.

Maximize Networking Opportunities Capitalizing on the diverse backgrounds and perspectives of attendees, facilitate networking sessions or breakout discussions to encourage collaboration and knowledge sharing. Create opportunities for attendees to forge valuable connections, enriching their overall meeting experience.

Personalize the Experience Tailor the meeting experience to resonate with attendees' interests and preferences, creating a personalized and memorable event journey. Customize agenda items, catering options, and interactive elements to cater to the unique needs of your audience, enhancing their overall satisfaction and engagement.

Conclusion: Elevating Events with Venuexplorer at National Gallery Singapore

In conclusion hosting a meeting at National Gallery Singapore with the assistance of Venuexplorer offers a synergistic blend of cultural immersion historical significance and modern functionality. By following our comprehensive guide and implementing the provided tips for success event planners can elevate their meeting experiences and leave a lasting impression on attendees. Whether seeking to inspire creativity, foster collaboration or simply facilitate productive discussions, National Gallery Singapore stands as an unparalleled venue choice, enriched by the expertise and support of Venuexplorer.

[curufiin]

question

curufin

or

23,857,196,483,284 trees?

-🪴

sorry environment. curufin

[dokjaism]

it feels kind of weird to me that accounts against climate change i follow quote the un for some reason

[tikimermaid]

Hosting a corporate event is an opportunity to impress and engage your guests in a unique setting. A yacht rental in Marina Del Rey, California, offers an unparalleled experience that can elevate any company gathering. With its stunning ocean views and exceptional amenities, a yacht charter provides a sophisticated backdrop for business meetings, team-building activities, or celebratory events. The ambiance of the sea and the elegance of a luxury yacht create a memorable environment that enhances both networking and productivity.

[happiestoursmdr]

Discover Luxury on the Water: Yacht Charters & Rentals in Marina Del Rey with Happiest Ours

Marina Del Rey, a jewel of the California coast, beckons with its azure waters, gentle breezes, and vibrant maritime culture. And what better way to experience the allure of this coastal paradise than aboard a luxurious yacht? With Happiest Ours Yacht Rental, your journey into the world of yacht charters & rentals in Marina Del Rey begins.

A Fleet of Elegance:

Happiest Ours boasts a stunning fleet of yachts, each meticulously maintained and designed to provide the ultimate in luxury and comfort. Whether you're planning an intimate sunset cruise, a corporate event, or a grand celebration, their collection of vessels offers something for every occasion and preference. Step aboard and prepare to be captivated by the elegance, sophistication, and unparalleled craftsmanship that define the Happiest Ours experience.

Tailored to Perfection:

At Happiest Ours, they understand that every voyage is unique, and their dedicated team is committed to ensuring that your yacht charter is tailored to perfection. From the moment you make your reservation to the time you disembark, their experienced professionals work tirelessly to accommodate your every need and desire. Whether you require assistance with itinerary planning, gourmet catering, or onboard entertainment, Happiest Ours goes above and beyond to create a seamless and unforgettable experience.

Explore Marina Del Rey's Coastal Beauty:

Embark on a journey of discovery as you set sail from Marina Del Rey aboard your Happiest Ours yacht. Cruise past iconic landmarks, such as the towering masts of the marina, the iconic Venice Beach Boardwalk, and the scenic coastline of Santa Monica. Drop anchor in secluded coves, dive into crystal-clear waters, or simply relax on deck and soak in the beauty of the California coast. With Happiest Ours, the possibilities are endless.

Exceptional Service, Every Step of the Way:

What sets Happiest Ours apart is their unwavering commitment to excellence and personalized service. From the moment you step aboard, you'll be greeted with warmth, professionalism, and a dedication to ensuring that your experience exceeds expectations. Whether you're celebrating a special occasion or simply seeking a retreat from the ordinary, Happiest Ours is your partner in luxury on the water.

Book Your Yacht Charter Today:

Ready to embark on the adventure of a lifetime? Contact Happiest Ours Yacht Rental today to book your yacht charter in Marina Del Rey. Whether you're planning a romantic getaway, a family vacation, or a corporate retreat, Happiest Ours promises an experience that will leave you breathless and longing for more. Don't just dream of luxury—live it with Happiest Ours.

Happiest Ours Yacht Rental

https://happiestoursmdr.com/

Call: (323)-842-5611 

Email: doronentrada@me.com 

Address: 2067 E 55th St 

Vernon, CA 90058 

[alpha-mag-media]

Alex Scott’s exotic holidays around the world, from relaxing on private yachts to her love for daredevil sports | In Trend Today

Alex Scott’s exotic holidays around the world, from relaxing on private yachts to her love for daredevil sports Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[ur-mag]

Alex Scott’s exotic holidays around the world, from relaxing on private yachts to her love for daredevil sports | In Trend Today

Alex Scott’s exotic holidays around the world, from relaxing on private yachts to her love for daredevil sports Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[giuseppe-yuki]

money, money, money

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 6.8k

warnings: curse words, allusions to sex, RUDE people, sprinkle of angst (?)

summary: you introduce max to the good and bad sides of having money.

a/n: roughly inspired by crazy rich asians- one of my fav movies!!!

edit: bonus birthday oneshot :)

photo credits from pinterest :)

it was no secret to the majority of the world that your bloodline was rich- filthy rich. with your father’s side of the family owning the equivalent of half a small country and your mother’s side of the family the owners of several major corporations, you had no lack of paper bills in your bank accounts.

along with your siblings and your cousins, you grew up pampered, only going to your country’s best schools and wearing only the latest fashion. you were picked up by a chauffeur in a personal sleek black bentley and had a team of maids at your beck and call. hell, you were even granted access to a private jet in case you wanted to fly somewhere exotic just for fun!

as a child without a sense of the value of money, you thought all children lived like this. every birthday, you expected only the very best from your parents. on your sixth birthday, your parents closed down disneyland and let the kids rampage throughout the park. for your cousin’s grade school graduation, your aunt bought an entire cruise liner (company) and held a week-long party on the water to celebrate. when your little brother passed his driver’s license, your father bought him a customized ferrari pista (that he might have crashed three days in) as his first car. when christmas came by, your grandma flew in your entire family to her private island in first class, and surprised all the kids with their very own mini play homes in the backyard that were each the size of a small apartment. 

slowly, as you matured, you realized how lucky you were. while eating the caviar and champagne at the expensive gala, the homeless were out in the cold, eating the leftover crusts in oily crumpled pizza boxes that they fished out of the trash. each dollar in your bank accounts could go to sick children whose parents couldn’t pay the hospital bills for, and instead, they were going to mega yachts that sat in the monaco bay most of the year. besides, wouldn’t your parents' money run out some time? 

it seemed that many of your cousins and siblings didn’t give a fuck. you watched them exponentially abuse their power, blowing through thousands of grands for luxury cars they drove only once and exclusive rooftop parties where they swam in pools of champagne. one by one, you saw them drop out of school and spend every day as the life of the party. once they rapidly grew out of the excuse of being “young, naive, and not knowing better” their reputation to the general public became “spoiled and out-of-touch” with society. 

you of course, weren’t totally exempt from this. you had to admit that you occasionally spent a few k on a nice little bag for yourself, or had an occasional trip to bali for some sun. however, you focused much more on your studies and helping others than partying. instead of spending your draining your mother’s company assets, wouldn’t it be better to have your own? why wield a black card embellished with your father’s name in gold when it could be your own name? with your own money, you could also donate huge amounts to people in need- all under your name.

slowly, you built up your own credible business using the knowledge you gained, and it soon skyrocketed into a world-wide profitable company. 

even with such success however, all your siblings and cousins laughed at you. running a company? they had chuckled, in their balenciaga suits and miu miu dresses. why do such tedious work when you can just marry into a rich family?

rich family, you scoff, looking at one of your cousins at the yearly family party that your family threw. though she was dressed to the nines, hair done up and jewelry glistening on her neck, she looked absolutely miserable. her husband, that everyone knew she had just married “for the money” stood on the opposite end of the room, flirting unashamedly with a rather uncomfortable looking waiter. that was really funny, considering that your cousin had been bragging about how much her husband loved her at the last function. she had even shoved a picture of her next to a humongous flower bouquet into your face, teasingly stating how “you never had this experience before, huh?”

your brother wasn’t that much different. although he looked rather successful with a big quarter of your mother’s company stocks, you knew that he was in major debt from burning through his bank accounts gambling at casinos around the world. he paraded around the room with his wife, who hung on his arm so proudly, but only because she didn’t know a thing. if you hinted at your brother’s little “problem,” you knew that she would have the divorce papers ready by afternoon the next day. 

as the party went on and the alcohol broke down the painstakingly-built facades of your family’s relationships, you began to stop envying their so-called perfect lives. you realized that all they knew about was money. what did they know about love?

love to you was a kind man with blue eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled at you, light brown hair that was oh-so-soft to run through with your hands, and a soothing voice with a twinge of an accent and slight lisp. love smelled like his soft cologne, and tasted like the spiced sweetbreads he would bake on the weekends. 

max was the total opposite from the cocky and money-hungry douchebags from your home country that were more attracted to your wallet and family influence, which was what you liked about him. even the way you met him was different. usually, the men would make it all about themselves, trying to impress you with their “achievements” (owning three ferraris is not a keystone achievement, david) or throwing technical jargon at you to sound smart. if you somehow invited them on a second date, they always showed up late and would tear off their clothes the second they got in the house, expecting to get to third base immediately. however, you met max through a friend of a friend at a small party in monaco. he could barely look you in the eyes and stuttered through his sentences, which you found quite refreshing compared to the arrogant guys that you usually encountered. on your first date, he got you some rather wilty looking tulips, but also brought some homemade bread that you swore was the best you ever ate. on the second date, he yapped about all the flags of all the countries he knew, but you didn’t mind because he let you ramble your own interests after. before long, you moved in with him in his apartment on the edge of monaco, and had the honor of calling him your boyfriend.

so now, lying in his arms on his tiny bed, you felt more at home than ever. 

the sunlight streams in through the windows above his bed, casting a glow across his face and filtering through his impossibly long eyelashes. you take a minute to admire the angelic scene, before one his cats leaps off of who-knows-where and jumps on his face. 

he yelps, and unwinds his arm from around you to softly push who you assume to be sassy away from his head. 

you flash a glare at sassy for ruining such a nice moment, before picking her up and attempt to “throw” her off the bed. 

unfortunately, max yanks her out of your hands before you are able to.

“hey!” he says in a chastising tone. “be nice to sassy. i’m sure she didn’t mean to.” 

max sits up on the bed and gives sassy a few head scratches before placing a kiss on her soft head. sassy meows at you, which you swear is in a mocking tone. across the room, jimmy sprints over and takes a spot next to max, purring for head scratches too, effectively pushing you off the bed. 

you didn’t understand how your boyfriend couldn’t see that his cats were literally devils. you were basically subject to their abuse every day (i.e. random ankle attacks, knocking over all you fragile items, unplugging your devices, cat hair in your food, and the worst one, stealing max away from you). scowling, you surrender your rightful spot on the bed and pad into the kitchen in your slippers to start the coffee. 

it’s not until both the coffee and breakfast is ready when max finally enters the kitchen, now freshly dressed. the cats scamper around his feet, curling lovingly around his ankles. 

“sorry about that, baby.” he says, pulling out his chair and taking a seat in front of his plate of food. “jimmy and sassy just wanted some love.”

you roll your eyes before settling down into your own seat.

he spears a few sausage links and eggs into his mouth before glancing at the clock. eyes widening, he shoves the rest of the food into his mouth and chugs down the hot coffee.

“so sorry, i have to run!” he sputters out, “i’m going to be late to my engineering meeting!”

he dashes to the bedroom to grab his bag before running back into the kitchen to press a kiss to your cheek in goodbye. 

“have fun at work too, baby!” he yells before the front door slams closed. 

sighing, you finish your plate before washing the dishes in the sink. he was always late for his engineering job at a small office in downtown monaco. max somehow always got to his office in time though, but probably because he raced his little yellow renault clio rs on the streets like he was some type of formula one driver. meanwhile, you had your “work” at home (which typically meant one phone call to your secretary to make sure everything was running smoothly, a quick scroll through your company accounts, and then netflix on the couch).

from the time you met to the time you started dating, you never got to telling max about your family history or your job. it was actually kind of unbelievable that he didn’t notice actually, even when all your clothes were covertly designer and heels were always red bottoms, or when you seemingly traveled out of the country every other weekend for company meetings. however, he never asked, so you never told. 

well, that was until he came home that night. 

his footsteps echo on the ground as he walks out from the bathroom, but stops before he gets into the kitchen

“hey baby,” he says, tilting his head. “what’s this?”

you stop stirring the pasta sauce, looking back to see your freshly showered boyfriend questioningly glancing at your open macbook on the couch.

you must have forgotten to close out of your company bank account tab. quickly, you throw the spoon aside, slam the laptop shut, and throw it to the side. 

“that’s nothing, baby.” you say, rushing back to the kitchen and stirring the bubbling red mixture again. 

“oh-kay…” he says, walking up behind you and reaching over to help strain the pasta noodles. 

while straining the water out in the sink, he flashes you a quick glance. “was it like…” he whispers quietly. “adult material or something?? is that why you didn’t want me to see it?” 

what? 

you look back him, an unimpressed look at your face. “adult material, max???” you repeat back at him. “no. i was not watching adult material on my work laptop.”

“okay, whatever you say, baby.” max says, clearly not believing you. clearing his throat, he continues. “so, um… anyways, my coworker george was talking about how he met his boyfriend alex's parents over the weekend, and i realized that i never met your parents before. do you think we can maybe pay them a visit?"

you freeze, halfway sliding out a plate of garlic bread from the oven. 

“i- um, don’t think that’s wise, maxie.” you reply quietly.

your boyfriend wrinkles his brow. he stops the plating of the noodles and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“is it…is it because they are assholes?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “cause it’s okay if they are- i understand, because my dad…my dad is not very kind either.”

you can’t help to think about your family in your home country. you could never take your maxie there. they would rip him to shreds, degrading him for being rather plain and destitute compared to them. you would never want to put your boyfriend through your parents, either, who would probably criticize him for wanting to marry you just for the money, even if max didn’t know a goddamn thing about how you earned your funds. 

you rub your face. “no, it’s not that.” you sigh, “i- mean- it’s just complicated over there in my home country. i don’t want you to feel pressure or uncomfortable-”

max cuts you off with a hug, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “i really don’t mind, baby. i’d really like to meet the people who made such a kind and beautiful person like you.”

you blush a little at his words. even if you have an uneasy feeling to your stomach, you nod lightly. it can’t be that bad, right?

if you were to take max over to your home country, there was no doubt he would be exposed to your massive fame and influence there. to slowly ease him into the more luxurious side of your life, you first introduce the luxuries of a private jet the day you take off from the airport.

“a private JET???” your boyfriend shrieks, looking at his speciality boarding pass. 

hurriedly, you shush him to avoid the glares of other travelers within a yelling distance of you both. 

“max, please be quiet.” you hiss into his ear. “yes, it says private jet.” 

maneuvering your cart with your lv-branded luggage to the side of the terminal, along with max’s one small carry-on and two pet cages with the reincarnations of the devil inside, you pull out your phone to check the location of the driver who would take you to the separate private-jet entrance. 

like magic, he materializes behind you, tapping you on the shoulder. 

politely, he takes your horde of luggages and max’s items before politely gesturing towards a massive black lincoln that was definitely not parked there before. 

“this way miss,” he says curtly, before reaching forward to open the car door for you. 

max, snapping out of his confusion, snaps his hand out first and roughly yanks the door open, and nearly hitting both you and the driver. 

“i’ll open the door for my own girlfriend, thanks!” he retorts, glaring suspiciously at the driver, who just shrugs and starts loading the luggage into the back of the car.

when max climbs into the spacious back of the lincoln, you can’t help but giggle into your hand. 

“max, you need to relax,” you laugh, placing a calming hand on max’s leg. “he’s my driver. it’s his job to open the door, okay?”

your boyfriend sniffs, pouting a little. 

“fine.”

after boarding the jet and ascending safely into the air, you settle into your padded chair. meanwhile, max runs around the jet like a little kid, pointing out the “special features,” much to the amusement of the staff. 

“omg, baby, look!” he yells, pointing at a wooden-paneled door behind your chair. “the bathroom is huge!” 

you nod, and hum in agreement, sparing a quick glance at max, who was opening and closing the door as if it would change what was behind it. 

he then charges toward a cabinet near the middle of the plane, which is stuffed to the brim with your favorite snacks. “wow!” he shouts, before sprinting towards a similar cabinet further down, which you know is the alcohol storage area. 

there’s a moment of silence before max steps into view with three gin and tonics and one of your favorite drinks in hand. he carefully sets them down in front of you, batting away a disgruntled-looking bartender who held a half-open bottle of gin that you assumed he was in the middle of pouring when max snatched the bottle away. 

you apologize profusely to the bartender while max watches on, straight up chugging his drinks. 

“this is wild!!” he whispers, pointing to the cups in front of him.

no more than five minutes after sending the bartender away with a little tip, max has already finished two of his three gin and tonics and was already bounding out of his seat to explore the rest of the plane. 

once you hear his exclamations of joy from the back of the plane, you know he has discovered the master bedroom.

before you have a chance to take a sip of your own drink, max basically pounces on you and drags you towards the private bedroom. your boyfriend pushes you onto the soft bed, yells out the door. 

“give us a little bit of privacy, okay?” he shouts to no one in particular, before slamming the door shut. 

he turns back to your figure lying spread-eagle in the bed, and wiggles his eyebrows. 

max is the first one to talk after you both lay on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks red. 

“so…?” he says, running a hand down your back. 

“so… what?” you ask, looking up at him from your position sprawled on top of him. from your point of view, you could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest, his slightly damp hair, and the way his blue, blue eyes study your face. 

“so, when were you going to tell me that you were…like…rich?” he replies.

you maneuver yourself to a sitting position on your boyfriend’s lap, looking him nervously.

“well…” you remark, twiddling your thumbs. this wasn’t the way you thought you were going to break the news to max. 

“i grew up more- comfortably in my home country, thanks to my family and their connections. i was lucky to not have to worry about money at all. when i became a little older, i separated myself from the rest of my siblings and cousins to form and take care of my own company. then, on a business trip, i met you and then.. yeah, you know what happens next.”

an awkward silence fills the room, with max digesting the information and you toying with a stray thread from the bedcovers.

your boyfriend opens his mouth slowly.

“a company?” he questions, turning to you. “what company?”

you scramble off the bed for your phone, and type something quick in the search bar. when you find what you are looking for, you rotate the phone towards your boyfriend, the glowing screen reflecting on his features. 

it only takes one or two seconds for max to scan and decipher the words on the screen.

“YOU’RE THE CEO OF REDBULL??” max shouts.

when the wheels of your private jet hit the bumpy runway, it was midnight. your pilot’s voice crackles on the intercom, politely notifying you that you have arrived, and are free to disembark whenever you’d like. outside, you can see several workers unloading your luggage, along with jimmy and sassy in their pet carriers.

you turn to max, who was intensely staring at his screen, unmoving. you assume he was still in the middle of his fervent wikipedia dive of you and your family’s entire history that he insisted on learning, once he got over the initial shock. 

“max,” you say, nudging him slightly. 

he doesn’t budge, eyes trained like an eagle on his screen. 

you pull on sweatshirt before nudging him again, this time a little harder. “max, come on, we gotta go.”

he snaps up, and pockets his phone before mock saluting you. “yes, of course, miss ceo! whatever you say!”

you roll your eyes. max was a little extra sometimes.

he trails behind you obediently as you climb down the stairs to get off the plane, and into a sleek black limousine. 

before long, you find yourself on the familiar streets and freeways that you used to frequent when you were younger. it feels the slightest bit nostalgic, so different from the streets of monaco that you became used to thanks to max. 

you look back to find max tilting his head at you. 

“where to now, miss ceo?” he asks in a curious tone.

you smile.

”i know just the place.”

even when it was close to three am, the downtown streets were still packed with people. vendors engulfed the street sides, selling delicious soups and snacks beckoned to people, and little shops with bright signs advertised souvenirs, clothing, stationary, and everything in between. the car inches to a stop when you come upon a familiar old building that you remember visiting often as a child. bright glittery letters on the storefront and windows exclaim, “lombardi ice cream shop.” a line of people streams out the door, an ode to the delicious creamy treats that the shop has been selling for years. god, you could basically taste the ice cream on your tongue already.

you practically leap out of the car, dragging max with you towards the front of the shop. the red bottoms of your heels click against the concrete, turning many heads in the crowd along the sidewalk. you hear gasps of shock and a few whispers of your name along the crowd. they automatically parts like moses and the red sea when you get closer. max hesitates, wide eyed, at the edge of the crowd. 

”c’mon,” you laugh, taking his hand and leading him through the people.

an old woman, back hunched with age, waddles out of the kitchen and greets you warmly when you arrive at the counter. without realizing, a warm feeling spreads across your chest. she was basically like a second mother to you, considering you spent your entire childhood frequenting this shop with your cousins and siblings. whenever you visited your home country, you would always make sure to pop by her shop (not that she needed your business- her lines always curled around the block, day and night). 

“ahh!! welcome back, honey,” she exclaims, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. “you’ve gotten so beautiful!” throwing a glance at a shy max hesitantly hidden behind you, she sends you an eyebrow raise. “ah, and i see you brought a boy back huh?”

you reach over to give the weathered old woman a hug, blushing. “hello, momma lella! yes, this is my boyfriend max.”

max waves a polite hello, one hand still nervously holding yours.

the elderly woman smiles kindly at max, not hiding how she looks him up and down. “well, i approve!” she states, giving you a thumbs up and a wink. “polite and handsome!” 

without another word, she grabs the largest size cup and fills it to the brim with creamy chocolate ice cream. sprinkling a good amount of sprinkles and shoving two spoons into the cup, she offers it to you. 

“on the house!”

you and max sit on the sidewalk with the cup of ice cream, watching people walk by and cars zoom through the traffic. occasionally, max takes his spoon and shovels a large helping of chocolate ice cream into his mouth. 

“you look like you’re really enjoying the ice cream,” you state, noticing the chocolate smeared over the corners of his mouth.

max just smiles at you in the way he always does, with the dimples and the crinkle in his eyes. 

suddenly, your moment is ruined when a flash goes off in your face.

max jerks back, rubbing his eyes, not used to the invasive cameras that made up your childhood.

you whip around towards the flash, seeing a small herd of paparazzi smiling wickedly. a rare spotting of you in back in your home country for the first time in years? that was payday for them. a flash of anger shoots through you, causing you to throw your wooden spoon at their expensive cameras. unfortunately, it just bounces off of the arm of a short looking man carrying a heavy duty camera.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell, shooing them away from max. “can you just leave us alone for one second?”

bothersome paparazzi like this was common when you grew up in a family rich with drama and money. you recall them camping in front of your house, shutters clicking once they saw a sign of movement. whatever mistake you made, like tripping over a small rock or fighting with your sister over a doll, was publicized and dramatized into unrecognizable stories on gossip magazines that were popular in your home country. it was a pity that this was max’s first introduction to these pests. 

you pull max with you as you shove your way roughly through the paparazzi. they deserved it if you accidentally smashed someone’s lens. 

max stumbles behind you. 

“wha-?” he says, holding the half-empty chocolate ice cream. “where are we going?”

you huff. “away from those wannabe photographers- i hate them so much.”

you flip open your phone to call your chauffeur, but your app notifies you it would take a total of ten minutes for him to weave through traffic to get to you both. in the distance, the paparazzi raise their cameras again, shutters clicking as they photograph your pissed off expression and a dumbfounded max next to you. you can practically see the headlines tomorrow- ‘bratty billionaire back in country!!’

like a godsend, a futuristic-looking car rumbles to life next to you. that will probably get you home and away from these fuckers fast, right? hurriedly, you march over to the disgruntled middle-aged man in the passengers’ seat.

“five million for your car- right now.” you say, dead serious. 

the man’s eyes widen comically large. 

“five mi-“

you cut him off quickly, seeing the paparazzi darting closer to max, who was still holding the ice cream and eyeing the cameras wearily. 

“yes, five million. i’ll mail you the check.”

without another word, the man tosses you the keys and hefts himself out of the car. you leap into the drivers seat just as he gets out, and jam your finger on the window down button to beckon max into the car immediately. 

the moment he sits down on the expensive-looking leather seats, you rev the engine and leave the paparazzi behind in the dust. 

it’s not until you are halfway back to your penthouse when max finally speaks. 

“this is a super nice car,” he states, running his hand against the interior side panels. 

you look around, really noticing the detailings of the car. the sides look like they are made with some carbon fiber material, and it seemed like it didn’t even have a door handle- just straps you pull on the corner of the dashboard. 

”yeah, i guess so,” you admit. “i just bought this off of that dude back there in order to get away from the damn paparazzi.”

max wrinkles his brows. 

“you bought-?? what??? you know this is an aston martin valkyrie, right?”

the next morning, when the sun shines through the skyline windows lining your penthouse, you keep your promise by instructing one of your staff to send the promised check to the random guy on the street (fernando, he said his name was). your boyfriend scrolls idly on his phone next to you, probably scrolling through your family’s lengthy wikipedia page again. his cats stamp around your white bedsheets as if they owned the place. you think about what you both could do today. perhaps visit the children’s hospital? before moving to monaco, you frequented many small hospitals, bringing gifts for the children. it always felt good seeing the sick kids light up with joy. or, you could go shopping, although you did spend a little bit much on the random car yesterday. or- 

before you can complete your thought, a familiar ringtone lights up the screen of your phone. your mother’s name lights up your phone, as if taunting you. before you second-guess yourself, you smash your finger into the green ‘answer’ button and place the phone to your ear.

your mother’s voice flows through the speakers, sending a wave of nostalgia throughout your body. 

“darling!” the voice hums, “why didn’t you tell me that you were back in your home country? i had to find out over the silly little paparazzi pictures on the newspapers!” 

damn it, you think, cursing silently in your head. it seemed that the paparazzi from yesterday night had probably sold your pictures to some trashy gossip magazine that had caught the attention of your mother. that meant that you had to face your family sooner or later. 

“hello, mother,” you reply curtly, trying to avoid the topic. “how may i help you?”

your mother tuts through the speakerphone. “oh, your own mother can’t just call to say hello?” 

you groan. “no- i mean yes-“

your mother cuts you off, laughing. “i’m kidding, darling. i just wanted to let you know that i’m hosting a party at our estate tomorrow, to celebrate your arrival! you’ve been in monaco for a god-awful long time. your cousins and siblings will be coming too- i’m sure they’ll all excited to see you after your hiatus in monaco!” 

you hesitate before responding. your first instinct was to say no, because everybody knew full well that the only reason your cousins and siblings even bothered to show up at these kind of events is to save face and show off their new ridiculously expensive clothing and cars, not to welcome you. however, this also gave you a chance for max to meet your parents, like he wanted back in monaco. it isn’t a hard choice when you agree to meet the next day.

max revs the engine once again as he pulls the valkyrie to stop in front of the valet at the front of your family’s estate. 

through the tinted windows of the car, you see one of your snobby cousins, dressed in an jeweled gown, jump at the loud sound and clutch her husband’s arm tighter however, her husband ignores her to get a good look at your aston martin supercar, which makes you laugh. to your surprise, he is not the only one. a few other family members gather around, admiring the hypercar. 

in the passenger’s seat, max’s mischievous grin slowly turns into a frown of nervousness as he spots the crowd of people gathering around you both. you know it must look intimidating, meeting your significant other’s family, especially when they had such high expectations of you. you place a kiss on his cheek. 

“you ready, maxie?” you ask, patting his shoulder comfortingly. 

he nods, before opening the car door. 

like the gentleman he is, max quickly hurries over to the passenger’s side of the car to help you out of the car. you gladly take his hand, and step out of the vehicle daintily. straight away, you can hear the confused mutterings and jealous glares of your family members start up, which follow the both of you into the house. 

like expected, your childhood home is decorated a little over the top. people mingle under crystal chandeliers around staircases draped with real flowers. from the second living room, music drifts out that sounds suspiciously like martin garrix. a fancy bar is set up a room that was usually the dining room, with a bottle of every single alcohol you can ever think of. the courtyard, usually empty save a few plants, was turned into outdoor buffet bar, complete with a five story cake and massive chocolate fountain. 

once inside, max attempts to introduce himself to the first friendly-looking family member that he sees, which happens to be your aunt on your mother’s side. he sticks out his hand, a smile gracing his face. 

“hi, my name is max,” he says, “i’m your niece’s boyfriend.”

your aunt nods politely, shaking his hand. 

“hello max,” she says, visibly studying him, “what are you, a ceo? businessman? sports star?”

”auntie!” you say, shocked, cutting max off from his response. that rude bitch. although she looked relatively kind from the outside, all she really cared about anyone was their power and money. which was probably why your cousin married a mega popstar that was away half the time. like the rest of your family, money trumped true love. “you can’t just start a conversation like that!”

max shakes his head, “no, no, it’s alright. i’m an engineer.”

“ah,” your aunt says, knowingly. taking a sip of her champagne, she continues, “head engineer, huh? of what company?”

thinking he might have misheard her, max corrects her, “oh- no, not head engineer, just an engineer, like in an office.”

your great-aunt’s friendly demeanor automatically drops.

“just an engineer?” she responds, coldly.

you notice how max’s face falls the slightest bit, before he plasters a fake polite smile on his face. he shuffles uncomfortably, glancing at you, as if saying, did i say something wrong?

before you can say something rather rude to your aunt, a hand clasps your shoulder. turning around, your brother beams at you. 

“sister!” he exclaims. “i haven’t seen you in a hot sec. too busy partying in monaco, huh? or doing your silly little business things for redbull?”

he then eyes max, to which he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “who’s this, huh? your boyfriend?”

”yes,” you snap, still a little pissed from your aunt’s rude reaction. 

your brother puts his hands up jokingly, in a surrender position. “damn, okay, no need to be defensive.” 

he sticks out his hand to your boyfriend, who takes it gladly. 

“what’s up, dude,” your brother says, shaking max’s hand. “i saw you pull up with my sister in that sick aston martin valkyrie! you must have some insane connections- the waitlist for that baby is like years long.”

your aunt answers before your boyfriend can. 

“there’s no way he could have bought that car- he’s just an office engineer at some company at who knows where,” she says pointedly.

hearing this, your brother’s impressed look turns into a sneer of disdain. he steps back from max in disgust, as if he had just turned into some horrible monster. he chuckles at you.

”wow, sister, you’ve outdone yourself huh? an office engineer?”

your family, slowly becoming aware of something going on, turns towards the scene. a wide-eyed martin garrix turns off the booming music in the back.

you shove your brother further away from max, causing the glass of champagne to spill onto your brother’s designer suit. 

“what’s wrong with you?” you exclaim angrily. “at least he has a job, unlike you!”

ignoring the bubbling liquid staining his suit and your enraged expression, he turns toward max, still eyeing him with disgust. “how pathetic, leeching off of my sister’s money as a ceo? ha, you probably used her card to buy that valkyrie, didn’t you?”

next to you, stunned into silence, max’s blue eyes begin to fill with tears. 

behind you, your aunt lets out a cackle of laughter, along with a few members of the crowd.

you just about launch yourself at your brother, wanting more than anything to bash his head in.

as if it couldn’t get worse, your mother pushes through the crowd gathered around you both, and grabs your arm before you can make contact with your brother. 

“hey!” she yells, yanking you back. “what is going on here?” 

your brother grins, pointing at max. “your precious daughter went and got herself a little gold digger boyfriend- and look, he’s crying!”

you glance over to max, heart sinking. like your brother said, he had a tear running down his face, and he shook a little with embarrassment. it reminded you of a story that max once told you, how his father had often upset him as a child when he was forced to do karting. an anger flared inside of you. max had only wanted to be a good boyfriend and introduce himself to your family, but was in turn ridiculed in front of a crowd by your hypocrite brother.

your mother turns to max, then turns to you. 

“is this true, darling?” she asks, tilting her head. “does he exploit you for money?”

does max exploit you for money? you can hardly even comprehend the ridiculous sentence. you roughly yank your arm out of your mother’s grasp and march over to max. you lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. 

you turn towards your chuckling brother. he won’t be laughing soon.

“you’re really one to talk, brother! you think you’re hot shit, with a large chunk of mother’s company stocks. well, wouldn't it be a shame if everyone knew that you are in debt from your uncontrollable gambling problem, hmm? i wonder what your wife feels about that?”

you take comfort in the way the smug smile drops from your brother’s face, now replaced with a withering glare. the silent crowd gathered around the scene lets out a gasp, in light of this news. their focus now was trained on your brother instead of max. 

“and you!” you exclaim, turning to your aunt. “since you think the word gold digger is so funny, auntie, wouldn’t you like to know how your own daughter is one, huh?” 

your aunt jerks back, not used to the crowd’s attention trained on her, along with your harsh words.

”yeah,” you continue, “if you would stop judging people based on their worth in money, you might have been able to see that all she does is spend her husband‘s money on inane things in order to ignore his multiple affairs!”

from the back of the room, you hear your cousin burst into tears while her mother, your aunt, standing in front of you, turns as red as a tomato. 

gently, you lead max towards the gilded gold front door. your family gives you judgemental looks as you make your way through the crowd. turning back one last time before you step out, you address the crowd. “don’t think any of you guys are any better. all you lot do is leech off of trust fund money!”

max stays silent all the way to your penthouse, as do you. after a hot shower, you bundle him up in your soft fluffy blankets until he looks the puft marshmallow man. you can’t help but feel terrible. he silently shuffles towards you, which you respond by pulling his head against your chest. jimmy and sassy watch wearily from a distance on the carpet.

you are the first to cut through the silence. 

“i am so sorry that my family did that to you, maxie.” 

he doesn’t answer, but the new tears that soak your expensive silk pajama set does the answering for him. 

you run your hand through his damp strands of light brown hair, and rub his back comfortingly. 

he pulls back from your embrace to wipe his eyes briefly. 

“why do you love me?” he hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “like- i have no money, two cats that you hate, and- and- a tiny apartment-“

“max!” you say, cutting him off from his ramblings. “listen to me.” 

you look into his watery eyes, eyelashes wet with tears.

”i really don’t care if you lived in a literal dirt hole with no job, or if you were a formula one world champion. i would love you no matter what. i love your blue eyes and your pouty lips and your lisp, and your cologne, and the bread that you bake, and your little apartment and even though it may not seem like it, i love your stupid cats too.“

he chuckles wetly at the last part of your sentence.

you kiss the top of his head.

”you don’t know how much i love you, max emillian verstappen.”

a devious grin slips onto his face. he shoots you a sultry look. 

“show me.”

and you do.

later, when max lays asleep on the bed, love bites on his neck, face slightly flushed, and back bare, you get up to fetch your phone.

the person you seek is only a few taps away. he picks up on the second ring, politely greeting you even though it was an ungodly hour. you tell him your request, but he hesitates slightly. 

”are you sure-“

you cut your financial advisor off as politely as possible. 

“yes, that’s right. i would like to buy the entirety of my mother’s companies and my father’s estates.”

the sounds of pencil scratching paper fills your ears before your financial advisor lets out a sound of approval. 

“right away, ma’am!”

a/n: APOLOGIES for my week-long hiatus!! take this fic as an apology... your normal spinoff series! scheduling will resume shortly <3

also let me know if you have a better name for this piece- i was STRUGGLING trying to name this one ;-;

[honeydewblogforwriting]

Hiding in plain sight

Warnings: bad grammar and typos

Summary: Y/N Hamilton (younger sister of Lewis Hamilton) and a F1 driver hide their relationship but are they really even hiding it?

Faceclaim: kendrabailey on instagram

Singapore GP 2024 •Post race interview•

Jenson Button: Oscar Piastri congrats on your win!!! What a spectacular performance out there!

Oscar Piastri: Thank you Jenson!

Jenson Button: a performance so exhilarating is the ideal way to start your break... any plans to celebrate it during your time off?

Oscar Piastri : ah, not really [haha] Y/N and I are spending the time together. Lewis, her brother, also invited me on his yacht so I'm gonna spend some time with him and Y/N. I'll also be visiting family. I'm just trying to rest as much as i can before the season continues.

Jenson Button: well you can't go wrong with rest, I hope you enjoy your break Oscar. Once again congrats on your win!

Oscar Piastri: Thank you, Jenson.

•Summer break•

August 21,2024 •Post-race interview•

Nico Rosberg: Hello Oscar, Welcome back. How was your summer break?

Oscar Piastri: Quite enjoyable. Turned out much better than I expected with some pretty amazing news.

Nico Rosberg: haha, any particular reason you're blushing as you say that ?

Oscar Piastri: haha, yes but it's something pretty private and I'm not ready to share with the world as yet

Nico Rosberg: are congratulations in order?

Oscar Piastri: [shrugs] perhaps

Nico Rosberg: Hahaha well I'm going to say it anyway just to be on the safe side, congrats Oscar Piastri!

Oscar Piastri: haha, thank you Nico. Much appreciated.

•November 22,2024•

•May 1,2025•

•July 19, 2025•

[eventvenuesingapore-venuexplorer]

Buyout Wedding at The warehouse Hotel

Planning the perfect wedding in today's fast-paced world can often feel like a daunting task. Couples seek a venue that offers a harmonious blend of luxury, uniqueness and affordability to ensure their special day is truly memorable. Nestled in the heart of Singapore, The Warehouse Hotel stands out as an exceptional choice. Teaming up with it a leading event venue discovery platform, The Warehouse Hotel promises couples an unmatched wedding experience. Let's delve into why this partnership is destined for matrimonial greatness.

The Warehouse Hotel: Industrial Chic Elegance Redefined

Steeped in history and radiating industrial chic elegance The Warehouse Hotel stands as a symbol of Singapore's rich heritage. Originally erected as a warehouse in the late 19th century, this architectural masterpiece has been meticulously restored to offer a wedding venue that seamlessly merges old-world charm with contemporary luxury.

Upon stepping into The Warehouse Hotel, guests are enveloped by a captivating lobby featuring exposed brick walls, polished concrete floors, and soaring ceilings. The venue's industrial aesthetic is complemented by modern furnishings and bespoke décor, creating an ambiance that exudes refinement and warmth.

The hotel boasts a variety of versatile event spaces each possessing its own unique character. Whether envisioning an intimate ceremony in the elegant Private Dining Room, a grand reception in the expansive Ballroom or a romantic outdoor celebration in the picturesque Courtyard, The Warehouse Hotel caters to every couple's distinct vision.

Partnering with Venuexplorer: Simplifying Wedding Planning

Navigating the complexities of wedding planning can be overwhelming, with myriad decisions and details to consider. Enter Venu Explorer. As Singapore's premier event venue discovery platform, Venu Explorer simplifies the wedding planning journey by connecting couples with a carefully curated selection of top-tier venues, including The Warehouse Hotel.

With Venuexplorer intuitive interface and comprehensive search filters, couples can effortlessly explore a diverse array of venues, compare pricing and amenities, and even secure their preferred venue directly through the platform. By collaborating with Venuexplorer The Warehouse Hotel streamlines the process, empowering couples to find their dream wedding venue and bring their vision to life with ease.

Unrivalled Luxury at an Irresistible Value

One of the most enticing aspects of hosting a wedding at The Warehouse Hotel is its unparalleled value proposition. Despite its reputation for luxury and exclusivity The Warehouse Hotel remains remarkably affordable, catering to couples with varied budgets.

Through its partnership with it The Warehouse Hotel delivers competitive pricing and customizable wedding packages tailored to each couple's unique preferences. Whether planning an intimate gathering or a lavish affair, The Warehouse Hotel offers the flexibility and expertise to transform wedding dreams into reality without overspending.

From personalised menus crafted by the hotel's acclaimed culinary team to seamless coordination with trusted vendors, The Warehouse Hotel is dedicated to providing couples with exceptional service and meticulous attention to detail at every turn.

Crafting Everlasting Memories at The Warehouse Hotel

Your wedding day marks a significant milestone in your journey as a couple, deserving of a venue that is as extraordinary and unforgettable as your love story. With its historic allure, contemporary amenities, and seamless integration with it The Warehouse Hotel provides the perfect canvas for crafting enduring memories cherished for a lifetime.

Whether exchanging vows beside the Singapore River dancing beneath the stars, or savouring a gourmet feast with loved ones, The Warehouse Hotel promises an experience that is as enchanting as it is enduring.

Conclusion

In summary The Warehouse Hotel and Venue have united to offer couples a wedding experience unparalleled in its excellence. From its historic charm and industrial chic elegance to its unbeatable value and seamless partnership with it The Warehouse Hotel stands as the quintessential venue for couples seeking luxury, affordability, and convenience. Say I do a wedding experience that surpasses expectations at The Warehouse Hotel with Venuexplorer.

[vivwritesfics]

Hi, idk if you write requests for polySimi but I’d love that? Maybe some angst??

Okay i've been saving this one bc i've never written for kimi bc im scared i won't capture him correctly in my writing. So this is just polysimi... stuff

-kimi met her first, fell in love with her first. they were together long before he was teammates with sebastian. the iceman and his lady. it wasn't often she joined him at the paddock, with a life of her own, but she tried to go to at least four races at year

-when seb joined the team, she started coming around more. she and kimi had discussed polyamory before, but they'd never let it go further than a conversation

-now, with seb coming around, it seemed like she wanted it to go further than a conversation

-kimi knew that seb was a great guy. they'd been racing together since sebs first race. he knew that they got along, but he didn't know if it was something seb wanted

-spoiler, it was

-on track, it was like they were competing for her attention. they knew she loved them equally, even if she was seen only to be rooting for kimi

-when seb was on the podium without him, she and Kimi were having their own private celebrations. the three of them celebrated together later as well, in the secrecy of hers and kimi's hotel room

-they had to keep the relationship under wraps. most of the time it felt like nobody but them would understand. so they didn't go public with it, kept it private for the three of them

-summers on the yacht hidden away from the world, every win being a private celebration

-eventually she gets pregnant

-of course she does, the three of them were like rabbits, fucking into the early hours of the morning

-they were safe, though. there were always condoms on hand until the three of them felt ready. which they had a long conversation about.

-neither cared who the family of the child was. it was their child, they wouldn't love it more or less depending on the father

-i can see the three of them in a quaint little house in the countryside, something that nobody would expect from two f1 drivers. It was small and cute, enough for the three of them

-they got dogs, two of them. i'm picturing two large breeds, maybe rescues

-their lives were perfect when it was the three of them, especially when it was the five of them (bc twins)

[23victoria]

"Mmm, it's something 'bout that feelin' you give me"

pairings: f1 grid x you

word count: 500

authors note: anon thank you so much for the request!! first time writing a blurb! hope it’s okay! wasn’t to detailed but hopefully you guys like it!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

❥ He can’t help but talk about you to his friends, constantly sharing stories of your sweet moments and how much he adores you.

❥ Spontaneous dates are his specialty; whether it’s a surprise dinner at a fancy restaurant or a sudden getaway to a cozy cabin, he loves keeping you on your toes.

❥ He has a habit of checking your online shopping cart and buying everything in it, often adding extra surprises he knows you’ll love.

❥ Every week, a beautiful bouquet of flowers arrives at your doorstep, each one more extravagant than the last, accompanied by a heartfelt note.

❥ One of his love languages is all about acts of service and gift-giving; he constantly finds ways to make your life easier and more joyful.

❥ Surprise trips are a regular occurrence; one weekend you might be lounging on a tropical beach, the next exploring the streets of Paris.

❥ He showers you with thoughtful gifts, from custom-made jewelry to designer handbags, rings, necklaces and more.

❥ On your computer, he secretly looks at your wish list and makes sure you never have to wait for anything you want, adding items he knows will make you smile.

❥ He loves planning elaborate surprises, like a private dinner on a yacht with a live band or a day at the spa just for the two of you.

❥ Little acts of love fill your days, like finding your favorite snacks in the pantry or discovering a new book he picked out just for you.

❥ He arranges fun adventures, like a spontaneous road trip or a day spent at a theme park, always making sure you’re having the time of your life.

❥ You never know what surprise awaits you next; it could be tickets to a concert, a new piece of technology, phone, computer, or even a hand-written love letter hidden in your purse.

❥ He’s always thinking ahead, planning your next vacation or weekend getaway, ensuring you both have something exciting to look forward to.

❥ Acts of service are his way of showing love; from preparing your favorite meals to handling errands you dislike, he’s always finding ways to make your life easier.

❥ Spontaneous dates are a regular part of your life; whether it’s a quick trip to a new city or a romantic evening under the stars, he loves surprising you.

❥ He loves making memories with you, and every moment is filled with laughter, joy, and the warmth of his unwavering affection.

•☆.°. taglist .•☆.° : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @demyackerman @oledoledoffen @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206 @revolutionsingingintherain

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[modernelites-if]

Modern Elites is a 18+ raunchy slice-of-life IF that follows you, a young royal, navigating the world of the obscenely rich and immensely famous while trying to keep your elite, royal family together in the midst of drama and tabloids.

Setting: modern times, fictional tiny country of Selusa, New York, Paris and more.

Genre: slice-of-life, drama, romance

Celebrity. Pop Culture Icon. Heir.

Royal.

As the heir to the Selusan throne, you're known by many names. Growing under the spotlight hasn't been easy, especially since it seems the vultures all want a piece of your elusive family. Country clubs, yachts, parties, private jets, elite schools, you've had it all.

But is there something missing?

Customize your heir from appearance to gender identity to personality. Dictate what kind of person they are: rebellious, dutiful. Do they care about the royal line or are parties more on their mind? Will you keep a squeaky clean rep or ruin the family name?

Customize Salusa and cater the country to your taste.

Dictate what kind of leader you want to be, and how others percieve you.

Experience the life of the hidden .01% and the drama of the ultra wealthy.

Engage in fiery, dramatic romances that could either uplift or ruin you and your family.

and more to come.

THE ADVISOR

Imogen/Ian Lancaster [f/m]- your family's advisor and publicist. I has cleaned up every mess, every leak, every scandal and at this point, there are no secrets between your family and them. Coming from a well-off family themselves, they know exactly how this world works...and they navigate it with a steel will and a cold, detached demeanor. I has you handled like an adult with a child, trying (and probably failing) to keep you in line. Anything you do will go through them, so it's better to think twice.

THE BETROTHED

Everett/Eva St. Clare [m/f] - the eldest of one of the most influential businessmen on your side of the world, black sheep, and a source of gossip in polite society, there have been talks of a betrothal between you two since the partnership started. Because of that, you two are forced into a fake romance for the cameras. E is an arrogant and brash casanova, sex-obsessed, and is proudly noncommital with string of rumors that follow them like their own entourage. Unfortunately for you, E's exploits can damage the carefully constructed facade you two have built. Of course, E doesn't give a damn.

THE REBEL

Vince/Vivian De Grasso [m/f] - (secretly) fresh out of jail and newly reformed (not) V's politician of a mother has asked in a favor from your family: to reform them and stifle their rebellious ways by adding them to your security detail. Your father having a soft spot for the kid, brings them in as one of your guards. Hopefully V keeps in line...or not.

THE COMMONER

Cordelia/Corden Bowen [f/m]- an employee at the country club you frequent, someone less polite would call them a 'nobody.' C has a bit of an attitude, but that's expected from someone who is used to getting berated by rich people all day. There's not much else to say about them...or maybe there is?

THE JOURNALIST

Romi Marshall [m/f]- a famed journalist with contempt for royalty and elitism. Their newsletters frequently slam you and your family's every move, and they don't like you one bit. You can confidently say they're your biggest hater.

THE ROYAL BEST FRIEND

Oliver/Olivia Ames-Astor [m/f]- a fellow prince/princess from another country and your best friend, who is still hung up on their ex. Forced to betroth someone else, O has so many problems you can hardly sort through them. Still, they're kind and as polite as you'd expect from a person who has had etiquette lessons drilled into them since childhood. They're also your best friend, so there's that.

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C3)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (5.9K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────── 03: Making a Splash in the Pool of Love…Yikes

There were two types of people at the pool: those who gracefully slipped into the water like elegant swans, and those who cannonballed in with all the subtlety of a collapsing deck chair. I, unfortunately, was in a third category entirely—one reserved for the terminally awkward, perpetually flustered, and inexplicably magnetized to the deep end of mortification.

Oscar’s sisters were already in the water, splashing each other like some synchronized squad of professional pool gremlins. Mae was attempting what looked like a half-hearted handstand, her legs wobbling in the air before she toppled over, sending a spray of water in every direction. Edie was lounging on a float, sunglasses perched on her nose, lazily steering herself with one foot as if she were on a private yacht instead of a neon pink flamingo. Hattie, meanwhile, was narrating the entire scene like a sports commentator, complete with dramatic sound effects and questionable Australian accents.

And then there was Oscar, sitting poolside with all the ease of someone who belonged there, flashing that same infuriatingly smug grin every time he caught my eye. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a surf magazine—lean muscles, tousled hair, and the kind of relaxed confidence that made you both admire and want to dunk him underwater simultaneously.

Simply put, that sight, holy hell; absolutely delectable.

I was perched on the edge, feet dangling in the cool water, trying to summon the courage to just jump in and get it over with. But of course, that was when Oscar decided it was the perfect time to make things ten times worse.

“C’mon, what are you waiting for?” he called, tipping his sunglasses down just enough to look at me over the rim. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little water.”

I shot him a glare, but my attempt at intimidation was ruined by the fact that I was gripping the edge of the pool like it was my only lifeline. “I’m not scared,” I retorted, though my voice wavered. “I’m just… enjoying the view.” Which, unfortunately, sounded way more flirtatious than I intended.

Great. Just great.

Oscar’s grin widened, and he pushed himself up, sauntering over with a casualness that made my pulse race. “The view, huh? Glad I’m providing some entertainment,” he teased, crouching down beside me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I’ve gotta say, you’re missing out. Water’s perfect.”

And before I could protest, he stood up, gave me a cheeky wink, and cannonballed into the pool, sending a wave of water crashing over my legs and half-soaking my cover-up. I let out a yelp, half in surprise and half in pure exasperation as Oscar surfaced, slicking his hair back and laughing like he’d just pulled off the prank of the century.

“Welcome to the splash zone!” Mae cheered, throwing up her arms in mock celebration as Oscar floated by, still grinning like he’d won some imaginary competition.

I wiped the water from my face, feeling my resolve finally crack. It was either jump in or spend the rest of the afternoon as Oscar’s personal splash target, and I was too stubborn to give him that satisfaction. With one last deep breath, I stood up, tossed my cover-up to the side, and took the plunge, diving in with more determination than grace.

As I broke the surface, sputtering but exhilarated, Oscar swam up beside me, his smile impossibly bright. “There you go,” he said, flicking water at me playfully. “Now you’re officially one of us.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “One of the loonies, you mean.”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with something that looked a lot like admiration. “Exactly. Welcome to the club.”

Before I could catch my breath, Oscar splashed me again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Alright, now that you’re here, we’re playing a game of chicken. Me and you against Edie and Hattie. They’ve been running their mouths all day about how they’re undefeated.”

I blinked, caught completely off-guard by the suggestion. “Wait, chicken? You mean the one where you sit on someone’s shoulders and try to knock the other team down?”

Oscar nodded, his grin wide and challenging. “That’s the one. And don’t worry, I’m a solid base. You just have to keep Edie and Hattie from cheating, which is honestly the real challenge.”

I hesitated, glancing over at Edie and Hattie, who were already gearing up and flexing like they were entering an Olympic event. Edie perched confidently on Hattie’s shoulders, waving like a gladiator preparing for battle. The thought of sitting on Oscar’s shoulders, with everyone watching—and worse, his hands around my legs—made me momentarily freeze. Not to mention, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be manhandled by a guy I’d only known for three hours, no matter how distractingly good-looking he was.

“Nah, I think I’ll just watch,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though my heart was thumping at the mere idea of the closeness. “I’m not really… a chicken kind of girl.”

Oscar wasn’t having it. He swam closer, his expression teasing but with a hint of something else, a playful determination that made it clear he wasn’t going to let me off that easily. “C’mon, don’t be a chicken about playing chicken,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with challenge. “It’ll be fun. Plus, I promise I won’t drop you. I’ve got a good grip.”

I shot him a skeptical look, my cheeks heating up again. “And why exactly should I trust you?”

Oscar’s smirk widened as he shifted his stance, flexing his biceps with dramatic flair, his movements comically slow and deliberate. He struck a pose like a cheesy fitness model from a 90s infomercial, his muscles bulging as he exaggerated each flex with a ridiculous amount of confidence. The water glistened on his tanned skin, catching the sunlight in a way that would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t so over the top. He raised one arm and gave it a solid flex, his bicep swelling noticeably, and with a playful wink, he leaned in and kissed it like it was the crowning achievement of his life.

“Because these guns,” he declared, pausing to flex the other arm for good measure, “are the most reliable thing you’ll ever sit on.” He threw in a cocky wink that would’ve made any movie villain proud, followed by an exaggerated smooch to his own bicep that echoed like a cartoon sound effect.

Mae burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. “Oh my god, Oscar, you absolute dork. Stop embarrassing yourself!”

Edie rolled her eyes so hard I was worried they’d get stuck. “Seriously, bro, you’re one cheesy line away from handing out autographed photos.”

Oscar ignored them, continuing to pose as if he were standing in front of a crowd of adoring fans. He shifted his weight, flexing his triceps now, turning slightly to show off the muscles rippling along his back, all while maintaining that smirk that screamed, I know I look good, and I’m not sorry about it.

I couldn’t help but laugh, torn between genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. He was so shameless, so ridiculously over-the-top, that I almost didn’t notice the way his muscles moved with effortless strength beneath the surface. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I could feel my cheeks heating up despite myself. The confidence, the sheer audacity of it all, was so uniquely Oscar, and I couldn’t deny the flutter of nerves—or something else—that danced in my stomach.

I snorted, half-laughing, half-cringing at his display. “Oh my god, that was the worst line I’ve ever heard. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “And besides, you get to help me take those two down a notch. It’s a win-win.”

I looked at Edie and Hattie, who were already smirking at us from across the pool, and I felt a sudden surge of competitiveness rise up. Fine. If Oscar wanted a partner, I’d give him one—and maybe wipe that smug look off his sisters’ faces while I was at it.

“Alright, fine,” I relented, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a grin. “But if you drop me, I’m holding it against you forever.”

Oscar’s smile was blinding. “Deal.” He turned around and crouched slightly, patting his broad shoulders. “Hop on. I’ll keep you steady.”

I climbed onto his back, trying not to think too hard about how solid he felt under my hands, or the way his muscles flexed as he gripped my legs to steady me. I could feel every inch of his strength, and it was both comforting and ridiculously distracting. The water sloshed around us as he rose, effortlessly lifting me onto his shoulders. My heart pounded, but I tried to focus on the game instead of the feel of his strong, tanned skin under my hands.

“Hold on tight,” Oscar said, his voice light but filled with excitement. “We’re going to take them down.”

As we squared off against Edie and Hattie, the pool’s surface rippled around us, creating a vibrant, sun-dappled stage for our impending battle. I could feel every subtle shift of Oscar’s body beneath me, his muscles tensing and flexing as he adjusted his stance, effortlessly finding the right balance to keep us steady. Each small movement sent little jolts of energy through me, and I couldn’t ignore the sheer strength radiating from him, his back firm and his shoulders broad under my grip. He gave his shoulders a little roll, almost like a warm-up, making sure I felt every deliberate flex, each slight adjustment meant to show off his easy power.

“Comfortable up there?” he asked, his voice laced with that familiar teasing edge. He tilted his head back just enough so I could see the playful spark in his eyes, his cheeky grin widening as he caught my expression. He looked absurdly pleased with himself, like this was all part of some grand performance and I was his main audience.

“Oh yeah, super comfy,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm, but I couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at my lips. It was impossible not to smile; his energy was contagious, and the way he kept subtly flexing as if daring me to notice was half infuriating, half amusing. I squeezed my thighs around his neck for stability, feeling the corded strength in his shoulders respond instinctively. It was like being on top of a coiled spring—every movement precise, controlled, and brimming with unspoken confidence.

He chuckled, his laughter vibrating through me. “Good to hear. I’m not just holding you up—I’m making sure you’re getting the five-star experience.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t deny the exhilaration bubbling up inside me. Despite my initial reluctance, there was something undeniably thrilling about being perched on his shoulders, high above the water, surrounded by the sounds of splashing and laughter. The sun was warm on my skin, and the water glistened around us, catching the light in dazzling, ever-shifting patterns. And then there was Oscar’s energy—playful, supportive, and just cocky enough to make me want to win this silly game purely out of spite.

Oscar shifted beneath me, his muscles rippling as he adjusted to keep me perfectly balanced. His hands gripped my legs firmly, his touch sure and steady as if to remind me that, no matter how chaotic things got, he wasn’t letting me fall. I caught a quick glimpse of his grin, the way he was clearly enjoying every second of this, and it was impossible not to feel a rush of adrenaline mixed with something softer, something that made my heart beat just a little faster.

“Ready to take them down?” he asked, giving his shoulders another purposeful flex that sent a shiver through me, his playful arrogance on full display. “I’ve got the strength; you just bring the attitude.”

I tightened my grip, feeling a surge of competitive spirit rise within me. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of that,” I shot back, smirking down at him. “Just keep flexing, and we’ve got this in the bag.”

Oscar laughed, his eyes flicking up to meet mine with a look that was half challenge, half flirtation. “You got it. Hang tight, and let’s show these amateurs how it’s done.”

Edie shot us a look, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re going down!” she called out, already reaching forward with determination.

“We’ll see about that!” Oscar taunted back, adjusting his stance and giving his sisters a cocky nod. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the best rider in the game.”

The match was on, and I focused all my energy on staying balanced and pushing back against Edie’s determined attacks. Oscar’s hands gripped my legs tightly, holding me steady as we twisted and turned in the water. I could feel his muscles working beneath me, and every so often, he’d flex just a bit more than necessary, as if to remind me of the strength holding me up.

“You sure you don’t mind all this muscle under you?” Oscar teased, glancing up with a flirtatious smile. “I mean, I can tone it down if it’s too distracting.”

I laughed, half-exasperated, half-flustered by his shameless flirting. “Just focus on the game, muscle man.”

Oscar chuckled, giving me another little flex just for show. “Oh, I am. But if it helps, think of this as a free ride. Gym membership included.”

With one final push, I managed to shove Edie just enough to throw her off balance, sending her toppling back into the water with a dramatic splash. The victory was sweet, made even better by the stunned look on Hattie’s face as she struggled to keep her sister afloat. Edie resurfaced with a gasp, water streaming from her hair as she spluttered and shot me a half-impressed, half-annoyed glare.

“Ha!” I cheered, throwing my arms up in triumph, barely managing to keep my balance on Oscar’s shoulders. “We won!” My voice echoed with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride.

Oscar laughed, his joy bubbling up as he spun us around in a celebratory twirl, the water splashing up in playful waves around us. I squealed, clutching his head to keep steady, but the sound was full of delight rather than fear. It was impossible not to get caught up in the moment, the sudden thrill of winning, and the infectious energy of everyone’s laughter.

“Told you we’d win,” Oscar said, looking up at me with that signature grin—broad, boyish, and brimming with a proud satisfaction that was almost contagious. He squeezed my legs slightly, just enough to remind me of his grip, his strength, and the fact that he’d been holding me up the whole time. “I never lose when I’ve got the right partner.”

I blushed, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through me at his words. The compliment was wrapped in that same playful bravado, but there was something genuine beneath it that caught me off guard. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I tried to play it cool, though my grin was impossible to hide. “Well, I guess you’re lucky to have me, then,” I teased, flicking a bit of water down at him.

Oscar chuckled, adjusting his hold and giving his shoulders a little roll as if to flex just one last time. “Lucky doesn’t even cover it,” he quipped, his voice dipping into something almost sincere, and I found myself momentarily lost in the playful glint of his eyes.

Meanwhile, Hattie was already splashing water at Edie, who was still bobbing indignantly in the pool. “You got beat by a newbie!” Hattie crowed, laughing at her sister’s expense. “I thought you said you were unstoppable?”

Edie scowled but couldn’t suppress a grin, brushing her wet hair out of her face. “Alright, alright, you got us. But don’t get too cocky—we’ll be back for a rematch,” she said, pointing a challenging finger at me. “Next time, you’re going down.”

Mae paddled over, clapping her hands in mock applause. “That was epic! New girl just dethroned the queens of chicken. How does it feel to be pool royalty?”

I couldn’t stop laughing, the adrenaline still coursing through me as I basked in the impromptu victory. “Feels pretty damn good,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly even though I was still buzzing from the rush. “But I’ll let you guys keep your crowns. I’m more of a co-ruler kind of girl.”

Oscar tilted his head back, looking at me with a playful admiration that made my heart skip a beat. “See? She’s humble, too. The whole package,” he said, giving me a slight squeeze with his shoulders that made me tighten my grip reflexively.

“Okay, seriously, stop flirting,” Mae groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically as she splashed water at us. “It’s getting nauseating.”

Hattie laughed, shaking her head as she swam closer. “Yeah, tone it down, Romeo. No one wants to watch you make goo-goo eyes while you’re being a human ladder.”

Oscar just grinned, unbothered by their teasing, and looked up at me with an exaggerated wink. “Sorry, can’t help it. It’s not every day you get to team up with someone who makes winning look this good.”

I laughed, trying to ignore the way my cheeks flamed up at his unabashed flirtation. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, but my voice was light, and I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest. For a moment, everything felt easy—like we were just two kids messing around, laughing, and letting the summer sun work its magic.

Mae, ever the bundle of energy, suddenly clapped her hands together, splashing water everywhere. “Alright, next game! We’re playing pool volleyball. Hattie, Edie, you’re with me. New girl and Romeo are on the other team,” she announced, pointing dramatically between us. “Time to see if you two are a one-hit wonder.”

Oscar’s eyes lit up at the challenge. “Oh, we’ll take you down,” he declared confidently, wading over to grab the neon volleyball bobbing nearby. “We’re basically undefeated at this point. Right, partner?”

“Undefeated for exactly one game,” I teased, but I couldn’t help feeling a competitive spark reignite. Mae quickly set up the makeshift “net,” which was really just a length of pool noodle stretched across the center of the pool, anchored down with pool chairs. It was half crooked, barely staying afloat, and not remotely official—but in that moment, it felt like the real deal.

Edie and Hattie took their places with Mae, who was already taunting us from across the water. “Ready to get wrecked? This is our turf, and we don’t go easy,” Mae called out, bouncing the ball a few times as if she were prepping for a major league serve.

Oscar leaned in close to me, his shoulder brushing mine under the water as he whispered, “They’re just sore losers. We’ve got this.”

The game kicked off with a wild serve from Mae that went soaring way over everyone’s heads and smacked into the side of the pool with a splash. “Nice aim,” I called, biting back a laugh.

“Shut up, it’s a warm-up!” Mae shot back, blushing as she retrieved the ball. She tried again, this time with a little more finesse, and the game was on.

Oscar and I found our rhythm surprisingly quickly, moving in sync as if we’d been playing together for ages. He’d bump the ball effortlessly, sending it just high enough for me to set it up perfectly, and I’d watch as he leapt out of the water with an exaggerated show of power, slamming it back over the noodle with a loud splash. Every point we scored, Oscar would raise his hand for a high-five, which quickly devolved into splashing water at each other playfully.

“Nice spike, partner!” I called, the thrill of teamwork coursing through me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun doing something so simple. There was no pressure, no awkwardness—just pure, unfiltered enjoyment.

“Same to you!” Oscar responded, winking at me as he adjusted his swim shorts, the action so casual yet somehow making my heart skip a beat. “You’re making this too easy.”

The banter kept flowing as we played, each side fiercely determined not to lose. At one point, Hattie attempted a dramatic dive to save the ball, splashing wildly and nearly taking Edie down with her. “Friendly fire!” Edie yelped, giggling as they both resurfaced, water streaming from their hair.

Mae, ever competitive, huffed and glared at her sisters. “C’mon, focus! They’re not even that good!”

Oscar chuckled, elbowing me gently, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Hear that? We’re ‘not even that good.’ Guess we’ll have to try harder.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard by the not-so-subtle innuendo laced in his words. The way he said it—low, playful, with just the slightest hint of mischief—made my face heat up instantly. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck and flooding my cheeks, and there was no hiding it. It was like my skin had betrayed me, broadcasting exactly how flustered I felt.

I tried to play it off, clearing my throat and splashing water at him as a distraction. “Y-Yeah, maybe you should work on that,” I shot back, aiming for a confident tone, but my voice wavered just enough to make Oscar’s grin widen. His eyes were locked on mine, sparkling with a knowing look that made my stomach flip.

“Is that a challenge?” he teased, his smirk growing as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying how flustered I’d become. “Because I’m always up for trying harder.”

I sputtered, feeling the heat intensify across my face. This wasn’t fair—he was effortlessly charming, and I was just trying not to combust on the spot. “I meant at volleyball, obviously,” I muttered, though my flustered state made the retort sound weak. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Oscar laughed, the sound rich and teasing as he splashed me back. “Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he said, but the playful glint in his eyes told me he was fully aware of how his words had landed. “But hey, if you’re blushing this much already, maybe we really should up our game.”

I could practically feel my cheeks burning, and I desperately tried to focus on anything other than the way his grin made my heart race. “You’re impossible,” I managed to say, but my tone lacked any real bite. It was hard to stay annoyed when he looked at me like that, with his eyes dancing between flirtation and genuine enjoyment.

Oscar just shrugged, still grinning as he pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. “Only when it’s this much fun,” he said, giving me one last playful wink before turning his attention back to the game.

With one final serve from Oscar, the ball sailed perfectly over the net, and Edie reached for it just a second too late, sending it skimming across the water and out of bounds. The game was ours, and we celebrated like we’d just won an Olympic gold.

“Victory!” Oscar shouted, throwing his hands up in triumph before pulling me into a playful, wet hug, lifting me off my feet briefly before setting me back down with a splash. “We’re officially unstoppable.”

I laughed, caught up in the infectious joy of the moment, even as I tried to shove him away playfully. “We’re a pretty good team,” I admitted, feeling the heat in my cheeks again as I realized how much I meant it.

“Good? We’re amazing,” Oscar corrected, his grin wide and genuine. He was still holding onto my arm, and the closeness between us was impossible to ignore. “And just for the record, I’m always down for a rematch. Same team?”

I looked at him, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin, the cool water around us, and the flutter of excitement that had been there all day. “Same team,” I agreed, smiling as I splashed him one last time. “But only if you promise to keep showing off.”

Oscar’s laugh rang out clear and carefree, echoing across the pool. “Deal. With you around, I can’t help it.”

Before I could fire back a playful retort, the sound of my mom’s voice cut through the afternoon air. “Hey, everyone! Dinner’s almost ready!” she called from the patio, waving a spatula like a dinner bell. “Come dry off and get ready to eat!”

Immediately, the savory aroma of grilled kabobs wafted toward us, filling the air with the smoky scent of marinated chicken, bell peppers, and onions, all sizzling perfectly on the grill. My stomach rumbled in response, and I could already imagine the burst of flavors—the juicy, seasoned meat, the slight char from the grill, and the sweet tang of roasted vegetables. I could smell warm, buttery corn on the cob, the faint, sweet scent of freshly baked bread, and the mouthwatering aroma of garlic butter wafting from a pan of golden potatoes roasting nearby. The sharp, tangy scent of freshly made tzatziki filled the air, mingling with hints of lemon zest and olive oil, making the whole backyard smell like a perfect summer feast.

I glanced at the others, who were already paddling toward the pool’s edge, eager to get their hands on the spread. “Guess it’s time to eat,” I said, half to myself, but Oscar was still watching me with that easy smile, his gaze lingering a little too long.

“Need a hand?” he asked, swimming over and extending his arm to help me out. His eyes stayed locked on mine, but as I reached up to take his hand, I could feel the weight of his gaze trailing over me—curious, appreciative, and making my pulse quicken all at once.

“Uh, sure,” I mumbled, feeling awkwardly aware of the way the water dripped off my skin, each droplet tracing a cool path down my legs. Oscar’s grip was firm and warm as he pulled me up, his fingers wrapping around mine with an effortless strength that sent a jolt of awareness straight to my core. His touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go, and when he finally did, the absence of his hand felt oddly significant, like a small but noticeable void.

For a brief moment, everything else seemed to blur into the background—the laughter from the pool, the faint sizzle of the grill, the warm chatter of his sisters in the distance. It was just the two of us, and I was hyper-aware of every detail: the way his eyes traced the water cascading off my legs, the slight upward curve of his lips as if he found the whole scene incredibly fascinating, and the way his gaze felt almost tangible, brushing over me like a warm caress.

I reached for my towel, wrapping it around myself in a clumsy attempt to shield against the sudden vulnerability of his stare. I tried to focus on drying off, rubbing the soft fabric over my arms and shoulders, but every time I looked up, Oscar’s eyes were still on me—intense, unwavering, and far too distracting.

He leaned casually against the pool’s edge, his wet hair slicked back, the sun catching droplets on his skin that made him look like some kind of Greek statue come to life. But it was his expression that really caught me off guard—his usual playful smirk had softened, replaced by something more thoughtful, almost contemplative. It was like he was seeing me differently, not just the girl who had been splashing and laughing with him all day, but someone who held his attention in a way that felt new and unexpected.

“You alright there?” Oscar asked, his voice low and a little rough around the edges, pulling me out of my tangled thoughts. He didn’t look away, and his eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite place—curiosity, admiration, maybe even a hint of something deeper.

“Yeah, just… you know, drying off,” I replied, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, coming out breathless and light. I patted my hair with the towel, desperately hoping it would distract from the heat creeping up my neck and cheeks. But his gaze stayed locked on mine, like he was searching for something in my expression that I didn’t even know was there.

Oscar’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “You sure? You look a little… flustered,” he said, the teasing back in his tone, but softer, gentler than before. There was a hint of something else in his voice too, something that made my heart skip.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off even though I could feel my blush deepening under his scrutiny. “I’m not flustered,” I said, but it sounded weak even to my ears. “It’s just… hot out, and the water’s cold, and…” I trailed off, realizing I was babbling.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my struggle to keep my composure. “Sure, blame the weather,” he said, his voice laced with that familiar flirtation that made my pulse quicken. “But for the record, you’re pulling it off pretty well.”

I bit back a smile, unable to meet his eyes directly as I wrapped the towel tighter around me. “Thanks, I guess,” I mumbled, feeling simultaneously embarrassed and oddly exhilarated by his attention. He made it impossible to just shrug things off, to pretend like his lingering gaze didn’t affect me when, in reality, it felt like the most charged thing in the entire backyard.

Oscar pushed off the pool’s edge and stepped closer, his presence warm and solid, droplets of water still glistening on his skin. “You know,” he said, voice low and intimate, “I’ve seen a lot of people get out of pools, but none of them have ever managed to make it look like… this.”

I stared at him, caught between laughter and mortification. “Like what? Wet?” I shot back, trying to diffuse the tension, but it only made him smile more, a lazy, appreciative smile that sent another wave of heat rushing to my face.

“No,” he replied, taking a beat as if considering his next words carefully. “Like you’re the best thing I’ve seen all day.” His voice was quieter now, more earnest, and the sincerity in his eyes made my breath hitch.

The world seemed to tilt just a little, the sounds around us fading into the background as I searched for a response that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete idiot. “You… you’re ridiculous,” I said, barely managing to keep my voice steady. But there was no hiding the way my cheeks were blazing or the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

Oscar just grinned, seemingly pleased with himself as he picked up his own towel and started to dry off, though his eyes kept drifting back to me every few moments. It was like he couldn’t help himself, like something about this silly, sun-soaked afternoon had shifted between us in a way that neither of us fully understood yet.

I tried to play it cool, focusing on the scent of the food that was calling us closer. But it was hard to ignore the electric current in the air, the way Oscar’s eyes lingered on me with an intensity that made me feel seen, maybe even a little wanted. The warmth of his gaze seemed to burn hotter than the sun, like he was committing every detail of me to memory—the way my hair clung damply to my shoulders, the flush of my skin, the shy smiles I kept trying to hide.

I fidgeted with my towel, feeling suddenly self-conscious, but Oscar’s attention never wavered. He stepped closer, his expression still caught between playful and sincere, as if he was searching for something in my reaction that would let him keep pushing the boundaries. His fingers grazed the towel slung over his shoulder as he looked at me, and there was a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before—a kind of unspoken question hanging between us.

“You don’t have to be so modest, you know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with that familiar edge of teasing that I’d grown so used to. But there was a gentleness there, too, a hint of something more genuine. “It’s okay to let people see how great you are.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift from playful banter to something more personal, something that made my heart stumble. “You’re really laying it on thick today, huh?” I said, trying to laugh it off, but the words came out shakier than I intended.

Oscar shrugged, his smile turning softer, less cocky. “Only because you make it easy,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The way he said it—without hesitation, without the usual bravado—made my pulse quicken, and I had to look away, pretending to adjust my towel just to break the intensity of his stare.

But he wasn’t letting up. As we walked toward the patio, his gaze never strayed far, occasionally dipping down as if he couldn’t help but take in every detail. I could feel the weight of it, warm and steady, and it made my skin tingle in a way that was both exhilarating and unnerving.

We reached the table where the food was spread out—a colorful array of kabobs, salads, and bowls brimming with sides. My mom was fussing over the final touches, sprinkling fresh herbs over a platter of roasted vegetables, while the others were already grabbing plates and chatting animatedly. But I was still caught in the lingering tension of Oscar’s words, the way he’d looked at me like I was something special, something worth noticing.

“Hey,” Oscar said softly, catching my arm just as I reached for a plate. His touch was gentle, a light brush of his fingers that sent another wave of heat rushing through me. “I meant what I said, you know. You really are… something else.”

I turned to face him, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. His eyes were serious, searching mine as if waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. And for once, I didn’t have a sarcastic comeback or a teasing remark. All I could do was nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks, Oscar.”

His smile widened, this time more genuine than any of the smirks he’d flashed all day. “Anytime,” he said, his voice full of unspoken promises that made my chest tighten.

As I picked up my plate and moved to join the others, I could still feel the weight of his gaze on me, warm and unyielding. It was a look that said everything and nothing all at once, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, this was more than just a poolside flirtation. And as we sat down to eat, surrounded by the familiar hum of conversation and laughter, I couldn’t help but wonder where this unexpected spark between us would lead—or if I was ready to find out.

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