#tree cutting in melbourne

[mrspiastri]

✩ jam biscuits 🍪

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

cw: fluff, sickeningly sweet oscar and a slight, super little bit of angst :D

wc: 13.3k words (don’t even joke lad)

an: need to stop placing myself as y/n when i write for oscar omg

It was the first week of December, and summer had already begun in Queensland, with warm mornings, sunny afternoons, and some moderately humid evenings. Y/N had spent her first two semesters at Griffith University and had loved every minute of it.

Sure, transferring as an international student in her third year of uni wasn’t exactly ideal, but she managed to adjust amazingly and had made some amazing memories and friends after just a little less than a year.

Mae was Y/N’s first friend, and they met after the former had to knock on the latter’s door to ask if she had an extra tampon she could borrow. And cut to now, the two were basically inseparable.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to just relax and actually enjoy your break. Especially with the very limited days off we get from uni.” Mae chided as she tried squeezing in a third pair of shoes onto her carry-on.

“Well, I can’t afford the plane tickets back home, and besides, I’m already going back in April!”

“So what are you going to do, just sit here for the next two months? In this tiny, slightly dusty, and very lonely dorm room? All by yourself?”

“I don’t really have any other choice, Mae.” Y/N stated, as she held out her friend’s shorts for her to pack.

“Then why don’t you come with me?” Her friend questioned.

“Where, Melbourne?”

“Yeah! You’re completely unoccupied, plus it’s with me! Mum has been dying to have you at home since you first met her!” Her friend grabbed her hands in an attempt to convince her.

“I don’t know; it’s the holidays, and I don’t want to intrude on your time with your family.” Y/N sighed, still very keen to spend the summer with Mae.

“Nonsense! They’d all love to meet you. And besides, you’re like family to me. So it won’t be weird.”

Knowing there was no way out of this and also eager to not ring in Christmas alone, Y/N agreed to fly back to her friend’s home city. In a way she wasn’t as nervous about it; she’d already met Nicole and Tim multiple times, and she’d spoken to Hattie and Edie on FaceTime multiple times. And quite frankly, she loved Melbourne with its beautiful beaches, sunny people, and amazing nightlife.

Four days later, while the two were seated on their flight home, Y/N was already busy reading the in-flight magazine, and Mae was texting away furiously on her family group chat.

“We’re about to take off soon, think you could put the phone away?” She teased.

“I wish, but as usual this idiot needs to make things difficult for us all.” She got a reply.

Y/N was about to ask who she was talking about, but before she could, Mae began her rant.

“I mean, you’d think he’d have planned this better, and I booked the tickets so early! He only had to schedule them on the same day as mine and at the SAME AIRPORT, and now he’s gone and messed it up for everyone!”

“Who are we talking about?” Y/N calmly asked her friend, who was close to foaming at the mouth.

“Oscar, who else would be such an idiot?”

Hearing his name made Y/N drop her magazine onto her lap.

“Oscar’s coming?” She tried to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Well, of course; he hasn’t got any racing left to do now, does he?”

Mae continued speaking, well until takeoff, and then she fell asleep on Y/N’s shoulder, holding onto her arm like a koala hanging onto a tree branch.

Y/N, however, didn’t sleep a wink during the whole duration of the flight; the only thing floating in her mind was the newfound information she had just received.

Oscar was coming. Oscar. Oscar Piastri. Mae’s brother. Nicole’s son. Oscar. Formula 1 star Oscar. The same Oscar, she had a slight crush on. Well, not slight; embarrassingly large would be a better word.

She’d met him only once, at the Australian Grand Prix that year. It was very difficult for her to pretend she wasn’t bothered by him, because, truth be told, everything about him was difficult to ignore.

He met her, and like the polite gentleman he was, shook her hand and introduced himself. He made sure she ate something at the McLaren hospitality. He asked her about where she was from, her hobbies, and how many siblings she had, and she asked him how fast his car went and whether he was more of a chocolate person or a more vanilla person. He also shared a look of mild annoyance with her when his team whisked him away for the driver’s parade.

After his disappointing result on Sunday, she hadn’t seen him at all. She and the family came back home, ate their dinners and went off to an early sleep. He reached home late at night, and before he could say his goodbyes, Y/N and Mae had taken off for the airport.

Now after almost a year, they would meet again and would be living in the same house. It wasn’t too weird to imagine seeing him, especially because her crush on him had basically vanished. The girl convinced herself that it was just her meeting a handsome, polite, funny guy after years and naturally being attracted to him. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t abnormal. It was okay.

She repeated those three sentences in her head over and over again, till they landed in Melbourne.

🪻🪻🪻

The afternoon sun was warm and bright when Mae and Y/N stepped out of Melbourne Airport. The December heat felt different here, less humid, more dry; and there was a comforting familiarity in the way the light touched the tops of gum trees and danced across the asphalt. Tim was waiting in the car park, waving enthusiastically at the sight of them.

“G’day, girls!” He called, striding over and pulling Mae into a one-armed hug, then offering the same to Y/N. “How was the flight?”

“Uneventful,” Mae replied, yawning as she shoved her suitcase into the back of the car. “She didn’t sleep at all,” she added, nodding toward Y/N.

“Excited to be back in Melbourne?” Tim asked with a grin, looking at Y/N through the rearview mirror once they were on the road.

“Absolutely,” she said sincerely, watching the familiar streets fly by outside. “It’s really lovely here.”

By the time they reached the house, it was well into the afternoon, and the air smelt faintly of freshly mown grass and barbecues somewhere in the distance. The front door flung open before Mae could even knock, and out tumbled Hattie and Edie, talking at a volume that could only be described as “excited shrieking”.

“Y/N!!” Edie shouted, throwing herself at her sister’s best friend in a flying hug that nearly knocked her off balance.

“You’re finally here!” Hattie added, squeezing in from the side, her hair bouncing with the effort.

Inside, the house looked exactly how she remembered it: cosy, lived-in, and full of warmth. Nicole emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel and smiling brightly. “There she is! My fourth daughter!” She pulled Y/N into a hug, then stood back to take a proper look at her. “You’re glowing. Queensland’s been good to you, huh?”

“Very good,” Y/N replied, feeling something inside her relax in a way it hadn’t in months.

Just then, the distinct sound of claws clicking against the wooden floor interrupted the moment, and in bounded Basil, floppy-eared, tail-wagging, and as chaotic as ever.

“Basil!!” Y/N crouched down and let the dog barrel into her, nearly knocking her over in his excitement. “You remember me, huh?”

“He definitely remembers,” Tim chuckled, hanging his hat by the door. “You’re the only guest who lets him sleep in their bed.”

“Guilty as charged,” she grinned, ruffling Basil’s fur as he whined happily and flopped onto his back for belly rubs.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a comfortable haze of chatter, catching up, and helping Nicole prep for dinner. The girls sat out on the back deck with lemonade while Basil napped in the shade, and Mae kept flipping through Spotify trying to find the “right vibe” for a summer evening.

As the sun began to dip low in the sky, casting long golden shadows across the backyard, Nicole called out from the hallway.

“Girls, I’m heading to the airport to get Oscar! We should be back by six, so keep an eye on the roast, will you?”

Y/N felt her heart skip, just slightly. Mae was still scrolling on her phone, unmoved. “Tell him not to whine the whole drive home.”

Nicole rolled her eyes fondly. “He’s not that bad.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, Y/N found herself staring out at the orange-hued horizon, feeling a strange flutter in her chest. It was fine. Everything was fine. She wasn’t nervous. She didn’t care that Oscar was coming. She didn’t even like him anymore.

Right?

She shook her head and went to baste the roast.

It was a little past six when the front door opened again, the soft creak of the hinges followed by Nicole’s unmistakable voice floating into the living room.

“We’re back!”

From the kitchen, Mae shouted, “Try not to crash into the furniture, superstar!”

The house erupted with the kind of excitement only reserved for a long-awaited homecoming.

“Oscar!!”

Basil bounded after them, nails skidding comically on the hardwood floor as he barked joyfully. Even Tim put down his beer and strolled over, smiling wide.

Y/N stayed where she was, half leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, a tea towel in one hand, still warm from drying the plates. She could hear the chaos, the laughter, the enthusiastic chorus of “you’re finally home” and “how was the flight?” and “do you have any gifts?”

And then, Oscar stepped into view.

He was dressed casually, in a plain white tee and black joggers, with a backpack slung over one shoulder, tugging a suitcase behind him, and looked exactly as she remembered him. No, not exactly. A little more tan, maybe. His hair was longer, a bit curlier. But the smile he gave his sisters was the same one that had made her stomach do something weird the last time they met.

He hugged Nicole first, then gave an affectionate smack on the shoulder to Hattie and Edie; he was still their annoying older brother after all. Tim ruffled his hair affectionately, and even Mae looked up from her phone long enough to roll her eyes and say, “Nice of you to finally show up.”

It wasn’t until the commotion settled slightly that he looked past them and saw her.

Y/N.

She hadn’t moved from her spot in the doorway, still holding that tea towel like she needed something to do with her hands. Her navy blue tank top clung lightly to her frame, and the grey sweatpants sat comfortably on her hips. Her hair was shorter than the last time he saw her, cut just below her shoulders now, a little frizzy from the heat, a little messy in the best way.

His heart did something. A flutter. A jolt. Something in between.

Because she looked different.

She looked even prettier than before.

He didn’t say anything right away, just took a step forward with a slightly dumbfounded smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes lingered, not in a weird way, just long enough to take it all in. The way her gold necklace glinted under the light. The soft flush of her cheeks. The way her lips curved up slightly, like she didn’t know whether to say hi and possibly intrude on their little family reunion.

“Hey,” he finally said, his voice quieter than it had been a second ago.

Y/N smiled back, just a little. “Hey.”

And for a second, it was like they were the only two people in the room.

Then Basil barked, loudly and unnecessarily, jumping between them like a fuzzy exclamation mark, and Mae shouted from the couch, “We saved you a plate, Oscar. Don’t make us regret it.”

Oscar blinked, tearing his eyes away from Y/N just long enough to answer, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

But even as he sat down at the table, greeted with a roast dinner and overlapping questions about Monaco and racing and airport delays, his gaze flickered back to her. Still leaning in the doorway. Still watching him.

Dinner in the Piastri household was as lively as ever. The table was overflowing with food, laughter, and the kind of chaotic joy that came with a full house. The roast smelled incredible, the salad was freshly dressed, and the potatoes were crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, just the way Y/N remembered from the last time she visited. There was a warm hum of voices, dishes clinking together, and the occasional shout from one of the girls trying to be heard over the rest.

Y/N followed Mae into the dining room, clutching her glass of water and scanning the table quickly. Her first instinct was to sit next to Mae, hoping for the comfort of a buffer between her and any potential awkwardness. She picked up her pace just slightly, trying to reach the chair before someone else did.

But Hattie, quick and always one step ahead, slid into the seat before Y/N could get there.

“Beat you,” Hattie said smugly, already reaching for a bread roll.

Y/N’s eyes darted around, searching for another spot. Nicole was already seated at the head of the table with Tim on her left. Edie had claimed the seat next to her dad. Every chair was taken except for one.

The one right next to Oscar.

Mae caught her eye from across the table and smirked. “Guess you’ll have to brave it.”

Y/N forced a small smile and tried not to let her nerves show. “Guess I will.”

She took a quiet breath and slid into the chair beside him, keeping her movements calm and collected. Her heart, however, was anything but calm. She could already feel the warmth of him beside her, close enough that their elbows might brush if they were not careful. She focused on unfolding her napkin and placing it on her lap like it was the most important task in the world.

Oscar turned to her, offering a friendly smile. “Hey again.”

His voice was soft, a little different from the boisterous way he had been talking to his sisters moments ago. She glanced at him and smiled back, her voice a little quieter than usual.

“Hey.”

Dinner began in full force as plates were passed around and everyone dove into their food. Nicole asked Oscar how his flight was, Tim jumped in with a question about something racing-related, and the girls were all chatting about school, their upcoming summer plans, and who had stolen whose sandals last week.

Y/N relaxed into the rhythm of the meal, laughing at the girls’ stories and chiming in now and then. It was warm and familiar, and for a moment she forgot that sitting right next to her was the same guy who had casually made her stomach flip with a simple smile.

It was only when things had quieted slightly and everyone was focused on eating that Oscar turned to her again.

“So,” he said, picking up his fork and turning toward her just a little, “how’s uni been treating you?”

She looked up at him, a little surprised he had remembered. “It’s actually been really great. I finished my first year at Griffith last month.”

“That’s on the Gold Coast, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, not too far from the beach. The weather’s incredible, but it’s full of tourists most of the time. And if I have to see another surfboard-themed smoothie shop, I might scream.”

He chuckled, the kind of quiet, genuine laugh that made her stomach do a tiny somersault. “Sounds like a bit of a postcard dream. But I guess anything gets old if you live in it long enough.”

“Exactly,” she said, smiling. “But I’ve managed. And Mae’s been great. She’s helped me settle in a lot.”

Oscar gave her a teasing look. “Is she behaving herself? Not talking through your lectures or stealing your snacks?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “She’s mostly well-behaved. Although she does have a tendency to hog the mirror for forty-five minutes every morning.”

“I do not,” Mae called out from across the table, having clearly overheard. “You’re just too impatient.”

“You take your hair way too seriously,” Y/N replied, grinning.

“Excuse me for wanting to shine,” Mae said with a dramatic toss of her head.

Oscar leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “She’s always been like that. Even when we were kids, she’d spend an hour trying to pick out the right headband.”

Y/N giggled, biting back a laugh as she looked down at her plate.

Oscar glanced at her again, taking her in properly now. Her hair was shorter than it had been the last time he saw her. It curled slightly at the ends, soft and light around her shoulders. She wore a simple blue tank top and grey sweatpants, nothing fancy, but she still looked different. Or maybe not different. Maybe just even prettier than he remembered.

“You cut your hair,” he said gently, still studying her face.

Y/N looked up at him, surprised again. “Yeah, a few months ago.”

“It looks really nice,” he said, his voice softer now. “It suits you.”

For a moment, the rest of the table faded away again. She felt her cheeks warm, and tried to act like it was just from the heat of the roast dinner. She looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Oscar smiled and returned to his food, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He was not really listening to Tim’s latest comment or Mae’s quip about the gravy. All he could think about was the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the curve of her smile, and how it was already becoming very clear that this summer was going to be a little more interesting than he expected.

And Y/N, though she tried very hard not to, caught herself sneaking a glance at him, wondering the exact same thing.

🪻🪻🪻

The house had gone quiet, the hum of the evening slowly settling into the kind of stillness that only came when everyone had finally gone to bed. Doors had clicked shut one by one. Tim’s voice had faded into a sleepy goodnight. Nicole had turned off the porch light. Even Basil had given up begging for table scraps and curled into his usual spot on the mat near the back door.

But Y/N was still awake.

She sat at the kitchen counter, laptop open in front of her, the soft glow from the screen casting a blue light across her face. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail now, and she had slipped into one of Mae’s oversized sweatshirts that almost reached her knees. The silence was comforting, broken only by the quiet tap of her fingers on the keyboard.

She was so focused that she did not hear footsteps until they were almost in the room.

Oscar padded in quietly, barefoot and looking a little dazed. His hair was a mess, slightly flattened on one side like he had tried to sleep but had given up halfway. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and grey shorts, and he looked more like a normal twenty-something guy than the Formula 1 driver plastered on magazine covers.

Y/N looked up, surprised, and gave him a small smile. “Can’t sleep?”

He leaned against the counter across from her and nodded. “Jet lag, probably. My body still thinks it’s 10 a.m.”

She closed her laptop halfway and stretched slightly. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

He tilted his head. “What about you? Burning the midnight oil?”

“Just catching up on some coursework,” she said, shrugging. “Uni break or not, some things don’t wait.”

He smiled, watching her for a moment. “You always work this late?”

“Only when the house is too loud during the day,” she said with a small laugh. “I love your family, really, but it’s like living inside a sitcom.”

He chuckled softly, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Guilty as charged.”

Y/N stood up and walked to the pantry. “Do you want something to help you sleep?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well”, she said, rummaging through a shelf, “I remember from last time that you’re not a tea person.”

“Correct,” he said, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “And coffee keeps me awake for three days straight.”

She pulled out a tin and turned to him. “Hot cocoa it is, then.”

He watched her as she moved around the kitchen, quiet but comfortable. She worked like she had done it a dozen times before, which she had. The milk warmed in a pot on the stove, and the scent of chocolate filled the air. She poured the drinks into two mismatched mugs—hers had a faded cartoon sun on it, and his said World’s Okayest Driver, which Mae had clearly planted for her own amusement.

She handed him the cup and leaned back against the counter again. “There. Chocolate and sugar. The perfect sleep potion.”

Oscar took a sip, then made an exaggerated face. “Wow. You’ve outdone yourself.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That better be sarcasm.”

“Definitely not. This might be the best hot cocoa I’ve ever had at 1 a.m. in a quiet kitchen in Melbourne.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Glad to add that to my résumé.”

There was a beat of silence as they both sipped their drinks, the house still and dim around them. The soft buzz of the fridge and the low hum of the street outside were the only sounds.

Then Oscar looked at her, his expression thoughtful. “So… Have you got someone waiting for you back on the Gold Coast?”

Y/N blinked, a little caught off guard. “You mean like a boyfriend?”

He nodded, swirling the cocoa in his mug.

She shook her head. “Nope. No boyfriend.”

Oscar looked a little too pleased with that answer. “Surprising.”

She gave him a look. “Is it?”

“Yeah. You seem like someone who’d have to beat the guys off with a stick.”

She laughed softly, not flustered but clearly amused. “Well, either I’m intimidating or I’ve just mastered the art of being unapproachable.”

He grinned, resting his elbows on the counter. “I don’t buy that for a second.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What about you? Anyone special waiting in some glamorous European city?”

Oscar shook his head. “No girlfriend. Just me and my suitcase.”

She gave a small nod and took another sip of her drink.

There was another pause. Not awkward. Just quiet. Comfortable.

Oscar stayed where he was, leaning against the counter like he had no plans to move anytime soon. His mug sat half-full in his hands, the steam curling in soft spirals into the air. Y/N perched next to him, her bare feet dangling just slightly above the kitchen tiles, her laptop now closed and forgotten beside her.

“I still can’t believe you remember that I don’t drink tea,” he said, glancing at her with a lazy sort of amusement.

She gave him a sideways look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he said, swirling the last of his cocoa. “I just figured you’d have more important things to remember than my weird beverage preferences.”

Y/N shrugged, playing with the hem of her sleeve. “I remember little things. That’s how my brain works.”

“Dangerous”, Oscar said softly, teasingly. “Now I have to be careful what I say around you.”

“Probably,” she replied, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I have an excellent memory.”

He looked at her a second longer than necessary, then tilted his head slightly. “So what else do you remember about me?”

Y/N let out a short laugh, but there was a flicker of awareness in her eyes. “You want a list?”

“Obviously,” he said, grinning. “How else will I know what kind of impression I made?”

She pretended to consider it, taking a sip of cocoa for dramatic effect. “Alright. You always double-knot your shoelaces. You hate olives. You hum when you’re trying to concentrate. And you only ever wear black socks, even with your team kit.”

Oscar blinked, genuinely surprised. “Okay, wow.”

“You asked,” she said with a small shrug, like it was no big deal.

“I don’t even think Mae would get that many right,” he said with a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s… kind of impressive.”

She just smiled again and said nothing.

A comfortable quiet settled between them for a few moments, and Oscar found himself watching her again—how the low kitchen light caught the tips of her lashes, how her sweatshirt sleeves were pulled halfway over her hands, and how calm and natural she looked in this space that was technically not even her home.

“You seem really settled here,” he said quietly.

Y/N looked up, a little surprised by the softness in his tone. “Here in Melbourne?”

He nodded.

She thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. I mean, it’s not permanent or anything. But for now? It feels... good.”

He nodded slowly, watching her fingers tap gently against her mug.

“You kind of blend right in,” he added. “Like you’ve always been part of the house.”

She gave a soft laugh, looking down. “That’s sweet.”

“It’s true,” he said, not looking away. “I think Mum’s more excited about you being here than she is about me.”

“Maybe because I don’t leave my laundry in the hallway,” Y/N teased.

“Harsh, but fair.”

She looked up at him again, and this time their eyes met and held for a beat too long. Something unspoken flickered in the air between them, light but unmistakable.

Oscar cleared his throat and gave her a crooked smile. “So, no boyfriend. Great taste in cocoa. Impressive memory. Still no idea how you’re single.”

She laughed, but her voice was quiet. “That’s a very smooth line.”

“It wasn’t a line,” he said, nudging her foot gently with his. “Just an observation.”

“Well”, she said, standing up and rinsing her mug in the sink, “you might need to work on your delivery.”

Oscar watched her from where he stood, smiling to himself. “Noted.”

Y/N turned off the stove light and looked over her shoulder at him. “You should try to get some sleep.”

He stretched and nodded. “I’ll give it another shot.”

She passed by him on the way to the hallway, but he reached out gently and tapped her hand as she went by. Just once. Just a soft touch.

“Thanks for the cocoa,” he said.

She turned and gave him a small smile. “Anytime.”

Then she walked down the hall, her footsteps soft against the floorboards, leaving Oscar alone in the kitchen, still smiling into his mug.

🪻🪻🪻

The days leading up to Christmas passed in a kind of warm, slow haze. The house was always alive with the sound of laughter, soft music, and Basil’s occasional barking at whatever poor delivery person had dared approach the front door. Y/N had become an easy part of it all, drifting comfortably from kitchen tasks to movie nights, helping wrap presents or keeping Edie entertained while Nicole prepared the next day’s to-do list.

It was a few days before Christmas when Y/N stood in the kitchen with Nicole, both peering over a nearly full shopping list that had been updated and revised a dozen times.

“I can run to the store if you want,” Y/N offered, tying her hair up and reaching for the notepad. “You’ve been juggling way too much all week. I don’t mind grabbing a few things.”

Nicole gave her a grateful smile. “Are you sure, sweetheart? There’s a lot on here, and the shops are chaos this week.”

Y/N nodded. “I’ll survive. I’ll just go early and get in and out.”

From behind them, Oscar’s voice drifted in, casual but firm. “I’ll drive her.”

Y/N turned slightly, surprised. “You don’t have to.”

Oscar shrugged as he reached for a glass from the shelf. “You shouldn’t have to deal with the parking and crowds on your own. Besides, I could use a break from the house.”

Nicole looked amused. “What, already tired of your family?”

Oscar gave her a look that didn’t hide the fondness behind it. “Just trying to stay useful.”

So it was settled. An hour later, Y/N found herself buckling into the passenger seat of his car, grocery list in one hand and her phone in the other. The sky was bright, the air warm but breezy, and the hum of the suburbs buzzed quietly in the background.

She glanced over at him as he adjusted the mirrors. “You really didn’t have to come.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the road as they pulled away from the kerb. “I wanted to.”

They drove in comfortable quiet for a while, the windows down just enough to let in the scent of eucalyptus and the sound of cicadas. Y/N scanned the list again and made a soft noise of disapproval.

“What’s wrong?” Oscar asked, glancing over.

“Nicole wants five different types of cheese. Who needs five types of cheese?”

He grinned. “Mum takes Christmas grazing boards very seriously.”

They made it through the first store with surprising efficiency. Y/N navigated the aisles with purpose, Oscar trailing behind with the basket and throwing in the occasional snack that definitely wasn’t on the list. She didn’t scold him for it, though—just raised an eyebrow and kept walking.

The second stop was a little shop tucked on the corner of a quiet street, where Nicole had said they’d find the last-minute decorations she wanted. The place was already picked over, but Y/N managed to find most of what they needed. Oscar wandered off to a shelf filled with novelty ornaments.

He held up a small kangaroo wearing a Santa hat. “This one feels like it belongs on our tree.”

Y/N looked up from the tinsel. “It’s horrifying.”

“Exactly. A classic.”

They left with the ornament anyway.

On the drive home, Y/N reached into the paper bag between them and pulled out a small packet of chocolate-covered almonds.

“Want one?” she asked, holding it out.

Oscar took one, then another, flashing her a small smile as he leaned back against the seat. The car was quiet again, filled with the soft whirr of the air conditioning and the distant chatter of holiday traffic.

As they drove through the winding suburban streets back toward home, the bags rustling gently in the backseat and sunlight warming the dashboard, the conversation drifted again. This time, Oscar was the one to start it.

“You know,” he said, one hand steady on the wheel and the other resting loosely against his thigh, “Christmas always felt bigger when I was a kid. Not because of the presents or anything, but just… the way the house felt.”

Y/N looked over at him, her cheek propped on her hand. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, just a little. “It was always loud. Like, properly loud. Mum would have the radio on full blast, Dad would be outside trying to hang lights in the worst spots, and Mae would be arguing with someone about tinsel. But the best part was going to Nonna’s.”

Y/N’s expression softened. “Your grandma?”

Oscar nodded. “Great grandma, actually. She lived about an hour from us. Every year, without fail, we’d drive over on Christmas Eve, and she’d have already been baking for days. You could smell it before you even got out of the car.”

“What did she make?”

He let out a small laugh. “Everything. Tiramisu, cannoli, almond biscuits that were somehow both soft and crunchy at the same time… and these little jam-filled thumbprint cookies. I used to steal like five before dinner, and she’d pretend not to notice.”

Y/N smiled at the picture of it. “Sounds like something out of a movie.”

“It kind of was,” he admitted. “The house was tiny and always packed with cousins and uncles and someone’s screaming toddler. But I never wanted to be anywhere else.”

He paused for a moment, watching the road. “She passed away a few years ago, and Christmas felt different after that. Not bad, just quieter.”

There was a silence after that, the kind that felt respectful, not heavy.

“She sounds like someone I would’ve loved to meet,” Y/N said softly.

He glanced at her, grateful. “Yeah. She would’ve liked you too. Especially if you showed up early and helped in the kitchen.”

Y/N smiled again, reaching into the almond packet and handing him another. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He took it from her fingers, just grazing her hand. “You should. Nonna was tough to impress.”

They fell into a quieter rhythm again, the car humming along and the breeze through the window stirring a few strands of hair across Y/N’s face. She pushed them back behind her ear, and Oscar caught himself glancing at her longer than necessary before turning back to the road.

“Do you ever try baking any of her recipes?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” he said. “Not the same though. Mum tries now and then, but even she says it’s never quite right.”

“We could try one,” Y/N offered. “If you remember the ingredients.”

Oscar gave her a sidelong look, the edge of his mouth lifting. “You want to make jam biscuits with me?”

“Sure. We’ll call it quality bonding time,” she replied, tapping her fingers on the receipt in her lap. “Though I can’t promise anything close to perfection.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “You’re already winning points with the whole family. You don’t need to be a baking prodigy too.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Oscar didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. You are.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a beat, the words settling in her chest more warmly than she expected. She turned her eyes back to the road ahead, trying not to let the small smile tugging at her lips show too much.

🪻🪻🪻

Christmas Eve at the Piastri house had a sort of chaotic charm. Nicole was buzzing between the kitchen and the living room, organising everything with a calm precision that only years of hosting could produce. The tree was glowing softly in the corner, carols playing in the background, and the smell of pine needles and cinnamon floated through the air.

Y/N had offered to help wherever needed, but most tasks had already been claimed. Mae and Edie were wrapping the last of the presents upstairs, Tim was dealing with the outdoor lights that had come undone in the wind, and Nicole had just finished the prep for dinner. That left the kitchen temporarily unoccupied and the perfect window of time for the little plan Oscar had floated earlier in the day.

“You serious about baking Nonna’s biscuits?” Y/N asked as she pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, already rolling up the sleeves of her linen shirt.

Oscar was flipping through an old, slightly worn recipe book on the counter. “Very. I found her original notes. If we mess it up, at least we’ll have tried.”

“High stakes”, she teased. “Don’t worry. I work well under pressure.”

He smiled, a little crooked, then placed the handwritten card down between them. “All right, chef. Let’s do this.”

They set to work side by side, gathering ingredients, measuring flour, and cracking eggs. There was flour on his cheek within five minutes and sugar dusting the counter like snow. Oscar snuck pieces of dough when Y/N wasn’t looking. She caught him the third time and flicked a bit of flour at him in mock offence, and he responded by dabbing a smear of butter across the back of her hand.

Somewhere between chilling the dough and shaping the little rounds for the baking tray, Oscar leaned back against the counter and said, offhandedly, “You know what would go perfectly with these?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she gently pressed her thumb into a biscuit to make space for jam. “What?”

“Homemade vanilla ice cream.”

She blinked. “That’s very specific.”

He grinned. “I used to make it with my dad when I was younger. Thought I’d hate it because it was vanilla, but turns out, it’s kind of unbeatable when it’s done right.”

There was a moment of quiet as she looked at him, then smiled. “All right. Let’s do it.”

Oscar found the ice cream machine tucked at the back of a high cupboard. Y/N prepped the egg yolks and sugar while he handled the cream and milk. The kitchen turned golden in the afternoon light as they stirred the custard base together, laughing over whether it was thick enough, too sweet, or too runny. Y/N insisted on adding an extra splash of vanilla bean paste “for good luck,” and Oscar didn't argue.

As the biscuits baked and the ice cream slowly churned, they stood at the counter, licking spoons and talking quietly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever baked with someone like this before,” Y/N said after a while, her voice soft as she washed the last mixing bowl.

Oscar passed her a clean towel. “Same. It’s kind of nice.”

She nodded, drying her hands, then glanced up at him. “You look like you’ve done this a hundred times.”

He chuckled. “I usually had Dad to boss me around.”

“You don’t seem like the ‘bossed around’ type.”

“Depends on the person,” he said, eyes meeting hers for a beat too long.

And just like that, the door swung open with the cheerful jingle of keys and a gust of cooler air.

Oscar’s grandparents had arrived.

“Smells like heaven in here,” his grandfather announced, stepping into the kitchen with a loud sigh of satisfaction. “Who’s doing all the baking?”

Oscar turned with a grin. “Y/N and I made Nonna’s almond biscuits. We’re trying to do them justice.”

The older man stepped closer, peering over the trays and then at the two of them standing side by side in aprons, slightly flushed from the warmth of the oven and from something else too.

He gave a teasing smirk, eyes twinkling. “Ah, to be young and in love again. Just like your grandparents used to be.”

Y/N felt the heat flood her cheeks so fast it made her dizzy. She glanced at Oscar, who looked equally caught off guard.

From behind them, Mae’s voice cut through with a flat, “Ew. Like that would ever happen.”

Oscar shot her a look. “Thank you for the support.”

Mae smirked. “Just keeping you humble.”

Y/N laughed it off, brushing flour off her jumper, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes after that. The comment had been said so casually, and yet it settled in her chest in a way she didn’t like. Maybe Mae thought of it as a joke. Maybe she didn’t mean anything by it. But still, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling as she turned back to the biscuits that if Mae ever found out about her quiet crush on Oscar, it might not be met with encouragement.

Oscar must’ve sensed the shift in her mood. He leaned closer, voice low, “Ignore her. She says that about everyone.”

Y/N smiled again, smaller this time. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Oscar quickly introduced his baking partner to his grandparents, who simply adored her even more when they found out she was best friends with Mae.

Christmas Day at the Piastri household unfolded in a way Y/N had never quite experienced before. Back home, Christmas had always meant frosty mornings, wool socks, and cups of spiced cider. But here in Melbourne, it was all golden skies, the scent of sunscreen, and the distant hum of cicadas.

She’d woken up to the sound of Nicole bustling in the kitchen and Basil’s paws clicking excitedly against the hardwood floor. Mae had dragged her out of bed half-asleep and handed her a Santa hat before she’d even brushed her teeth. The backyard had already been transformed—long tables set up beneath a shade cloth, fairy lights strung across the fence, the esky filled with cold drinks, and platters of fresh prawns, mango salad, and pavlova lined up on the counter.

It was, without a doubt, a proper Aussie Christmas.

By midmorning, the house was filled to the brim with extended family—cousins running through the garden with water balloons, uncles gathering around the barbecue, aunts clinking glasses of bubbly and cooing over Basil, who wore a little green bow tie just for the occasion.

Y/N had barely had a moment to breathe. Nicole’s sisters had taken a liking to her almost immediately, dragging her into their conversations and insisting she try their famous trifle. Oscar’s younger cousins kept offering her candy canes and showing her TikToks. And at some point, his Nonno took her aside and told her, quite seriously, that she had “the best hands for biscuit-making he’d seen since his wife”.

She laughed through all of it, genuinely enjoying the chaos, but she couldn’t help noticing that she hadn’t really spoken to Oscar at all.

He was everywhere and nowhere all at once, carrying chairs out to the backyard, refilling drinks, and helping Mae untangle a string of stubborn lights. Each time their eyes met across the yard or the kitchen, there’d be a look, gentle and knowing, but before either could cross the distance, someone would pull one of them away again.

By the time the sun dipped low enough for dinner to be served, the sky turning lavender above the rooftop, everyone was hungry, sun-drenched, and a little sticky from the heat. The tables were filled with roast chicken, glazed ham, more prawns, and colourful salads, while bowls of cranberry sauce and gravy were passed around in between laughter and clinking glasses.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen, carrying a basket of dinner rolls, scanning for a seat.

Oscar was already at the table, but instead of being deep in conversation like usual, he was oddly… quiet. More specifically, he was guarding the empty chair to his right like it was a national treasure.

Aunt Sandra tried to sit down beside him, but he quickly shook his head. “Sorry, this one’s taken.”

“By who?” she asked, lifting a brow.

He just smiled. “You’ll see.”

When Y/N finally made her way toward the table, Oscar stood up immediately.

“Here,” he said, taking the basket from her hands and pulling out the chair beside him, holding it in place as she sat down. She gave him a small, amused look but didn’t say anything, brushing her hair behind her ear as he slid the chair in.

“Smooth,” she murmured under her breath.

Oscar just gave her an exaggerated shrug. “I try.”

The moment was subtle, almost too casual to be noticed.

Almost.

Because, of course, his grandfather noticed.

“Would you look at that?” he said from further down the table, his voice warm and just loud enough to carry. “Back in my day, if you pulled a chair out like that, it meant you were trying to impress someone.”

Oscar glanced up, startled. Y/N froze mid-reach for the water jug.

The table erupted into laughter.

Mae groaned, practically sinking into her seat. “Can we not do this again?”

Y/N, cheeks burning, stared down at her napkin. Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, “Thanks, Grandpa,” under his breath, but he was laughing too, albeit a little shyly.

Nicole, ever the peacemaker, clapped her hands. “All right, enough teasing, everyone. Let them eat in peace.”

But the mood had already lightened, and the glances between Oscar and Y/N carried a new weight. They both focused on their plates, on the ham and potatoes and fresh salad, pretending nothing had happened.

Yet under the table, their knees brushed lightly, once, then again. Neither moved away. And even as the chatter resumed and the plates emptied, neither of them stopped smiling.

However, one thing still replayed in Y/N’s mind, like a broken record: Mae didn’t like the idea of them together, and it really freaked her out.

🪻🪻🪻

The house had quieted in that soft, comforting way it only does after a long, perfect day. Dishes were done, leftovers packed away in foil, lights dimmed one by one until only the faint golden glow of the fairy lights strung across the backyard remained.

Y/N stepped out through the sliding door, barefoot, a sweater draped loosely over her sundress. The grass was cool beneath her feet, and the air carried the gentle scent of eucalyptus and the last whispers of roast and cinnamon. She hugged her arms around herself as she crossed the lawn to the two chairs that sat under the gum tree, just far enough from the house to feel like a secret.

Oscar was already there, holding two steaming mugs in his hands.

“I figured you’d still be up,” he said, standing to pass one to her. His voice was low, warm in the still night.

“You know me so well,” she teased, accepting the cup. Her fingers brushed his briefly.

“Hot cocoa”, he added, sitting back down beside her. “Didn’t trust you not to spike anything.”

Y/N smiled softly. “Appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

They both leaned back in their chairs, sipping slowly, letting the quiet settle between them. The stars were bright above, clean and clear, and the moon hung low and heavy in the sky. From somewhere far off came the low hum of cicadas and the rustling of a breeze through the trees.

“You had everyone wrapped around your finger today,” Oscar said, glancing at her with a soft smirk.

Y/N laughed, tucking her knees up onto the chair. “I think your aunt wants to adopt me.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. You crushed the trifle review.”

They sat in easy silence for a while. Basil wandered out briefly, tail wagging, before curling up on the deck, content.

“You were really good with your little cousins,” she said eventually. “That little girl, Isla? She thinks you’re a superhero.”

Oscar chuckled, looking down. “She thinks I drive rocket ships.”

“Don’t you?” she teased.

“Something like that.”

There was something in his smile that lingered, gentle and almost private. Like he was looking at her in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to earlier in the day.

Y/N shifted in her seat, the cocoa warming her from the inside. Her eyes flicked toward him, then away. “It’s kind of crazy,” she said softly, staring at the grass. “Just how welcome I’ve felt here. Even with everything. It’s not something I’ve always been used to.”

Oscar didn’t say anything immediately. She turned to look at him and found him already watching her.

The intensity in his gaze stopped her breath for a second. His mug rested on his thigh now, forgotten.

“What?” she asked, a half-laugh escaping her throat.

He shook his head a little. “Nothing. Just listening.”

But he wasn’t just listening. His eyes flicked over her features, soft and slow. The curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, and the way a curl of hair rested against her collarbone. She felt it, like the world had narrowed to just this moment.

Still, some part of her hesitated.

Mae’s voice echoed again, that dismissive, teasing “Ew. Like that would ever happen.” And maybe she hadn’t meant anything; maybe it was just her way. But it lodged itself somewhere in Y/N’s chest like a quiet warning.

Oscar leaned in a little, resting his elbow against the arm of the chair so his face was closer to hers. His voice was quieter now.

“Do you know how hard it was to get two minutes alone with you today?”

She blinked. “You didn’t exactly try.”

“I did,” he said. “You just had a very persistent fan club.”

That made her laugh again, and something shifted in her chest, loosening.

“I liked watching you,” he added. “With my family. You fit here.”

She felt her breath hitch a little, just barely.

“I’ve never really fit anywhere,” she murmured.

“You do here.”

She looked at him again then, fully, her features soft in the pale light. “You’re staring,” she whispered, her voice unsure, almost teasing.

He didn’t answer. He just leaned forward more slowly now, giving her time to stop him, to pull back.

She didn’t.

And then, just like that, the air between them snapped.

He leaned in without hesitation this time. His hand came up, brushing her jaw with a tenderness that made her skin burn. Their lips met, not gently, not cautiously, but with weeks of tension unravelling all at once.

It was a kiss that stole her breath.

His other hand found her waist as he leaned closer, their cocoa mugs long forgotten in the grass. Her fingers curled around the front of his shirt, tugging him toward her without thinking, only feeling. Her whole body hummed with something between relief and wanting.

The way he kissed her, it was like he’d been waiting, aching, trying to be patient for too long. It was all unspoken things and sidelong glances, bottled up until now, pouring out with the press of his mouth on hers.

When he finally pulled back, it was just enough to breathe. His forehead rested against hers, and his chest rose and fell like he was trying to steady himself.

“I’ve wanted this,” he said quietly, almost like a confession. “Since the moment I met you. I didn’t even know why, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Y/N blinked at him, stunned, her lips still tingling, her heart slamming against her ribs.

Oscar looked at her again, and then he kissed her like he meant to imprint her into memory.

This one was hungrier. His hand slipped up, tangling into her hair, and she let out a soft sound against his mouth before pressing closer, her fingers dragging across the back of his neck. His touch was warm and steady, his lips moving against hers with a certainty that made her dizzy.

When they finally slowed, breathless and flushed, she pulled back just far enough to see his face. His lips were red, his hair tousled from her hands, and his eyes—God, his eyes—were still locked on her, like nothing else existed.

Because somewhere in the haze of it all, Mae’s voice returned. That thoughtless laugh, the sarcastic scoff. “Ew. Like that would ever happen.” And now, in the silence following the kiss, it pressed down on Y/N’s chest like a stone.

Oscar's hand was still cradling her jaw, his thumb brushing just beneath her ear. His forehead rested gently against hers, his breathing slowing in tandem with hers. He hadn’t let go, hadn’t stepped back. He still looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

But her heart was thudding in panic now, not just from the kiss.

She pulled back a little. Just enough for him to notice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, brows knitting together.

Y/N took a step back, eyes downcast. “I can’t… we can’t… I’m sorry.”

Oscar blinked, still frozen in place, clearly not understanding. “Wait, what do you mean?”

She shook her head, already hating the words she hadn’t even formed yet. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, more from protection than cold. “I just… It’s not possible. You and me.”

He took a hesitant step toward her, his voice quieter now. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she whispered. “God, no. You’ve been… amazing.”

“Then why—”

“I just… I can’t explain it,” she said quickly, voice breaking. “I wish things were different, Oscar. I really do. But they’re not.”

And she turned.

She walked back toward the house with quick, uneven steps, her hand trembling as she slid the glass door open. The cocoa mugs still sat abandoned on the grass.

Oscar didn’t follow right away. He stood there in the dark, lips parted like he was about to say something but didn’t.

Y/N’s feet padded across the kitchen tiles. Her throat was tight, eyes already stinging. She didn’t stop until she reached the guest room door. She slipped inside, turned the lock, and leaned her back against it, letting the tears fall.

It wasn’t loud. No sobs. Just silent crying, like all of it had built up behind her ribs and now had nowhere else to go.

She slid down the door, knees tucked to her chest, and pressed her palm against her mouth to muffle the sound.

She had kissed him. She had wanted him. And now she had walked away.

Because Mae’s voice still rang in her head. Like that would ever happen. Because she didn’t know what it would do to Mae if something did happen. Because she didn’t know if she could handle being the girl who ruined things.

On the other side of the door, Oscar stood in the hallway, staring at the wood between them. He could hear nothing. No movement. No breath. Just silence.

And it hit him: whatever had just happened out there, however perfect it felt, it wasn’t just about him.

He leaned his forehead against the door once, gently. His heart ached with confusion, with disappointment, with that slow bloom of rejection that felt heavier because it hadn’t been angry. It had been sad.

Neither of them slept that night.

🪻🪻🪻

The house had shifted into a strange sort of quiet in the days following Christmas. The tree still sparkled in the corner of the living room, tinsel and baubles glittering with the last golden traces of the holiday season, but the warmth that had filled the air was now threaded with something quieter. Something heavier.

Y/N hadn’t spoken to Oscar since that night in the backyard.

Not a word. Not even a glance that lasted longer than a second.

She couldn’t trust herself to do it. Every time she even felt his presence in the same room, her chest tightened and her stomach sank. Because it wasn’t just guilt anymore. It was missing him, aching for something she’d told herself she wasn’t allowed to have. Wanting to talk to him, laugh with him, and just be near him without everything falling apart in her mind. But she knew herself too well. She wouldn’t survive another soft look or tender word from him, not when she had already chosen to walk away.

Oscar had tried, at first. His knock on her door that morning, the way he stood near her in the kitchen a few times hoping she’d say something, anything. But when it became clear she was holding back—not out of anger, but something else entirely—he gave up. Or maybe he just stopped hoping she’d let him in.

He never confronted her about it. Never pushed. That was the worst part. Because he had only ever been gentle with her, patient even when she didn’t deserve it.

So instead, they moved around each other like ghosts in the same house. Close enough to feel, far enough to pretend.

Now, it was New Year’s Eve, and the afternoon sun burnt bright and high over the roof. The windows were open, letting in a breeze that barely cooled the warmth lingering through the halls. Upstairs, the girls had started getting ready early, even though they wouldn’t be heading out until much later.

Y/N sat cross-legged in front of Mae’s vanity, curling her hair in slow, careful motions. Her lips were tinted with a soft gloss, her makeup half done. The room smelt like dry shampoo, vanilla-scented body mist, and faint anxiety.

Mae, applying glittery eyeliner in the mirror, paused and glanced at her.

“You okay?”

Y/N blinked, startled out of her thoughts. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Mae raised a brow, clearly not buying it. “Tired, my ass. You’ve been walking around like a Victorian widow all week.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Mae didn’t press, but she did turn around and sit cross-legged behind her on the bed. “Alright. Then I’m officially dragging you out with us tonight. You need to dance. Or at the very least, wear something sparkly and drink something fruity.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “You just want me to be your buffer again.”

“Obviously. But also, it’s New Year’s. If I have to spend it pretending to enjoy bad house music and overpriced drinks, you’re doing it with me.”

Y/N gave a quiet nod, letting herself lean into the distraction, grateful that Mae cared enough to try.

Down the hallway, Oscar sat in the living room, one leg bent under him on the couch, phone forgotten beside him as he stared out at nothing.

His ears caught the distant buzz of a hairdryer and the muffled laughter of Mae singing along to a song he couldn’t quite make out. But what he noticed more than anything was her voice. Y/N’s voice. Soft, quieter than the others, but unmistakable. It sent a dull ache through him every time he heard it, every time he remembered the way it had broken when she told him they couldn’t.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself.

He rose from the couch, walked quietly to the hallway, and leaned against the doorframe to Mae’s room, keeping out of sight.

She was sitting in front of the mirror again, now smoothing a shimmer of eyeshadow across her lids, her lips slightly parted in focus. The way she held herself had changed in the last week, shoulders more guarded, smile less easy. But she was still beautiful. Devastatingly so. And when she tilted her chin up to fix a strand of hair behind her ear, Oscar felt that familiar twist in his stomach.

God, he missed her.

It wasn’t just the kiss or the way her fingers had felt against his jaw. It was her voice in the kitchen in the mornings. Her smile when she teased him across the dinner table. The comfort of just knowing she was around.

And now she was right there, just metres away, but unreachable.

Mae laughed suddenly, tossing a sequin dress at Y/N’s lap, and Oscar stepped back quickly, careful not to be seen.

He retreated to the kitchen, hands deep in his hoodie pocket, his expression blank. When Nicole passed him a bowl of fruit to cover with cling film, she frowned softly at the faraway look in his eyes.

“You’re not going out with the girls tonight?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Not really in the mood.”

She didn’t ask why.

Upstairs, Y/N slipped into her dress and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked fine. She looked like herself. But nothing about tonight felt right. Not with Oscar staying behind. Not with his face flashing through her mind every time she blinked.

Still, she picked up her clutch, put on her earrings, and forced another smile when Mae called her beautiful.

Because what else could she do?

Some hearts break loudly. Hers was breaking in quiet.

🪻🪻🪻


The music thumped hard enough to rattle Y/N’s chest, the pulse of the club vibrating under her feet as lights strobed across the packed dance floor. People were everywhere, laughing, shouting, drinking, and clinking glasses. Couples kissed with abandon in dark corners, arms wrapped around each other like the year wouldn’t end unless they were holding tight enough. The air smelt like perfume, sweat, and champagne.

Mae was in her element. She was already on her second drink, dancing with a group of strangers who had somehow become friends in the space of three songs. Edie and Hattie were nearby too, shouting lyrics and twirling each other around.

But Y/N just stood by the bar, fingers wrapped around a glass of soda water that had long gone flat. She was trying. She was dressed up, surrounded by music and energy and friends, trying to shake the weight that had taken root inside her all week.

It didn’t work.

Everywhere she looked, people were celebrating. Holding hands. Kissing cheeks. Whispering things in each other’s ears that made their faces light up. And all she could think about was the look on Oscar’s face in the backyard. The way he’d whispered, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” The way her name had sounded in his mouth like it meant more than just a name.

She missed him.

God, she missed him in a way that felt too big to carry. But she had convinced herself there was no other way. That she had made the right choice for Mae. For herself. That nothing could come from it, not when it risked someone she loved like family.

And still, she couldn’t stop aching for him.

She set her drink down and excused herself from Mae’s latest attempt to drag her to the dance floor and moved toward the patio of the club where it was quieter and cooler. The stars blinked above in the inky summer sky, and in the distance, she could already hear people counting down the minutes until midnight.

She leaned against the railing, taking a shaky breath, wondering if it would ever stop hurting.

Back at the house, Oscar sat on the couch, a bowl of popcorn beside him and some rerun playing on the TV. He wasn’t even sure what it was—some sitcom with terrible lighting and actors with too-white teeth talking about missed chances and how sometimes life didn’t give you more than one.

He’d barely touched the popcorn.

The house was too quiet without the girls around. Too still. Even Basil had fallen asleep at the foot of the couch, unmoving.

Oscar’s gaze lingered on the television, but his thoughts were miles away.

March. He kept thinking back to March.

The first time he saw her. She had been sitting under that striped McLaren umbrella, sipping water and looking a little overwhelmed by the noise of the paddock. He had walked up to her and introduced himself, and she had blinked up at him like she wasn’t sure if he was real. And then she’d laughed at one of his dumb jokes and asked him if he liked chocolate or vanilla better. It was stupid, really. But it had stuck with him.

All of it had.

Her voice. Her smile. Her ridiculous obsession with cheese toasties. The way she always triple-checked if Basil’s water bowl was full. The quiet way she listened when other people spoke. The loud way she laughed when she forgot to hold back.

He hadn’t just liked her.

He might’ve fallen in love.

And now she was out there. With someone else, maybe. At some crowded club with too many people and not enough space. Counting down the seconds until midnight, surrounded by strangers, and he wasn’t there.

He looked back at the TV. One of the characters was staring out a window, whispering something about not letting another year pass without trying.

Oscar blinked.

Then he stood up.

The keys were still on the side table. He grabbed them.

Basil lifted his head just as Oscar passed, like even the dog could tell something was happening.

He didn’t know what he was going to say when he saw her. Didn’t know if she’d even let him get close. But he wasn’t going to let the year end without trying.

He started the car, heart pounding, hope rising like a tide in his chest.

She had run away from him once.

But he wasn’t letting her go again.

The club was buzzing when Oscar stepped through the doors, the thrum of bass hitting him like a wave. The lights danced across the crowd, glittering off sequins and sweat, and the air inside was thick with the scent of cheap cologne, spilt drinks, and anticipation.

He hadn’t been in a place like this in a long time; he hated how impersonal it felt, how loud, how messy, but his eyes swept over every face, every corner, every cluster of people in search of one thing. One person.

Then he saw her.

Across the room, under a gold streamer banner that read HAPPY NEW YEAR, she stood leaning lightly against a high-top table, a half-finished drink in her hand, her eyes slightly distant, like she was there but not really. Her hair had curled softly from the humidity, and the string lights overhead gave her skin a soft glow that made Oscar stop for just a second to catch his breath.

But then he saw him.

Some guy, tall and cocky in that lazy, beer-fuelled kind of way, swaggered over to her, clearly emboldened by liquid confidence. Oscar couldn’t hear what he said over the music, but he saw the way the guy leaned in too close, flashing a grin like he thought he had a chance.

Oscar’s heart sank, a strange tightness pulling across his chest.

She smiled back. Polite. Patient.

Then she gently shook her head.

The guy tried again, saying something else, maybe asking her to dance. But she just gave him that same tired smile, soft and apologetic, and held a hand up in a small wave that clearly meant no, thank you. He said something else with a shrug, but she turned away, facing her drink again, her smile fading the moment her back was to him.

Oscar exhaled, his body loosening slightly. He hadn’t even realised he’d been holding that breath.

Just then the DJ’s voice rang out through the speakers, booming and excited.

“Alright, folks, we’re five minutes out! Five minutes to midnight! Find someone to kiss, hold on tight, and say goodbye to the old year in style!”

The lights dimmed to a soft amber glow, bathing the room in warmth.

People started pairing off, couples laughing and clinking glasses, pulling each other closer. Friends gathered in circles, already starting countdowns and toasts. The energy shifted to something more tender, more electric.

Y/N stood in the middle of it all, alone with her drink, her eyes downcast.

Oscar didn’t hesitate.

He wove through the crowd, dodging people, bumping shoulders, his eyes never leaving her. His pulse thundered in his ears with every step. He didn’t care that he was wearing old sneakers or that he’d probably broken at least three traffic rules getting there. All that mattered was the girl standing there looking like she didn’t realise how much she was being missed.

By him.

As the countdown to midnight crept closer, he finally reached her, his voice quiet but sure as he said her name.

She looked up at the sound of her name, startled. Her brows lifted, and for a second her lips parted as if she weren’t quite sure he was real.

“Oscar?”

He was slightly out of breath, cheeks tinged pink from the rush, hair a little windswept. He looked completely out of place in a room full of sequins and stilettos, wearing a black tee and jeans, holding the weight of too many unspoken words in his eyes.

“I came here to talk to you,” he said, stepping closer so she could hear him over the hum of the music and the building excitement around them.

Her eyes darted around, at the crowd, at the people who were slowly gathering in pairs as the countdown ticked nearer. She shook her head, her voice strained. “You shouldn’t have come. You should go. Please.”

He stepped closer, brows furrowed, confused. “Why?”

“Because this… this is exactly what shouldn’t happen,” she said, words tumbling out before she could stop them. “Because Mae—Mae would hate it. She’s your sister. She’s my best friend. This whole thing would just make everything messy and weird, and I know she joked about it like it could never happen, and I laughed too, but it’s not funny; it’s not okay. Even if I liked you—”

She froze.

Oscar tilted his head slightly. “Even if you what?”

Her mouth opened and closed, but it was too late to backpedal.

“Even if I liked you,” she repeated, quieter this time. “It wouldn’t matter. Because it wouldn’t work out. Mae matters too much. You matter too much. And I’ve already ruined things enough, haven’t I?”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unguarded, and the weight of it pulled at both of them.

Oscar let out a slow breath. He took another step forward, close enough now that she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.

“I don’t care,” he said simply.

She blinked. “What?”

“I don’t care,” he said again, firmer. “Not about the rules you think exist or what you think Mae might say. You think she wouldn’t want me to be happy? Or you to be? You think she wouldn’t understand, eventually, that two people who care about each other might be worth it?”

Y/N’s lips parted, but no words came.

“I’m not going,” he said simply. His tone wasn’t loud, but it was steady. Clear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oscar…” she began, but he was already speaking again, like if he didn’t let it out now, it might crush him from the inside.

“I know you said it couldn’t be anything. I know you said it wasn’t possible. And maybe it isn’t; maybe you’re right. Maybe there are rules, or loyalties, or whatever it is that made you run that night. But I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t go into another year pretending I don’t feel what I feel for you.”

She stood there frozen, mouth slightly open, her glass hanging limply in her hand.

He swallowed, hard, the emotions in his chest crowding his words. “I’ve liked you since the second I met you. Since March. Since you looked at me with those eyes and asked me if I would do a shoey if I won. It sounds stupid, but I think I knew then. And every day since, it’s only gotten worse. Or better. Depending on how you look at it.”

The crowd had started to buzz louder now, the final stretch approaching, but he didn’t care.

“I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t want to. I want to spend New Year’s with you. Every New Year’s. And Christmas. And practically every other holiday. I want to wake up knowing I get to talk to you. I want to hear about your classes and your ridiculous overuse of Google Docs. I want to bring you cocoa when you’re working late and listen to you hum when you’re concentrating and fight over the last biscuit even though I’d always let you have it.”

Her eyes were shining now, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every shaky breath.

“I don’t care how messy it is. I don’t care what we have to work through. All I know is I don’t want to spend another year, another day, another second pretending I’m okay not loving you.”

And then, quieter, just for her:

“Because I do. I love you.”

The countdown erupted around them.

Ten… Nine… Eight…

He looked at her, really looked, like she was the only one in the room. Her eyes glistened, wide with disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.

Seven… Six… Five…

He took a step closer.

Four… Three…

“If you tell me to walk away, I will,” he whispered. “But I’ll still mean every word I just said.”

Two… One…

The room burst into cheers.

Confetti shot into the air. Champagne fizzed. People screamed and kissed and laughed and danced.

As the clock struck twelve and the club burst into noise and glitter and the metallic scent of fireworks, she didn’t say a word.

Instead, she kissed him.

She dropped her drink onto the table behind her without even looking, stepped forward, and reached up to pull him down to her. And when their lips met, it was nothing like the soft, hesitant brush from that night in the backyard. This was immediate. Fierce. A collision of everything they had held back for too long.

Oscar kissed her like he’d been waiting for this exact moment since the day they met. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as her fingers curled into the back of his neck, drawing him down further, deeper. It was like they were making up for lost time, for all the stolen glances, the almosts, the words neither of them had dared say.

She clutched at the front of his shirt, and he smiled into the kiss, only pulling back for the briefest second, his forehead pressed to hers, breathless. “Took you long enough.”

Y/N swatted at his chest, trying not to grin. “Shut up.”

He kissed her again, more playful this time, his thumb brushing along her jaw. The air around them buzzed with music and confetti and cheers, but it all melted away, like they were existing in a bubble of their own.

“I’m not letting you disappear on me again,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Good,” she whispered back, her voice trembling from how much her heart was racing. “Because I don’t think I want to.”

His hand slid down her back, teasing, familiar, and she gasped against his lips.

“You sure about that?” he teased, dipping his head to kiss the edge of her jaw, slow and deliberate.

Y/N gave a breathless laugh, tugging him back up by the collar. “I’m the one kissing you, aren’t I?”

“More than kissing,” he murmured, pressing another slow, dizzying kiss to her lips.

It was everything they hadn’t let themselves feel. All the tension and affection, the pining, the wonder of something forbidden finally coming undone in the loudest, most beautiful way.

And as confetti fell around them and strangers kissed and danced in celebration of the new year, Oscar held her like she was the only resolution he ever wanted to make.

🪻🪻🪻

The university lawn buzzed with excitement, the late-afternoon sun casting a soft golden glow over rows of folding chairs, cameras flashing, mortarboards flying, and families cheering far too loudly for their own good.

Y/N stood off to the side with Mae, both of them in their gowns and tassels, clutching their degrees and grinning from ear to ear. Their faces were flushed from the heat and from the sheer emotion of it all. They’d done it. They’d actually done it.

Oscar stood just a few steps away, surrounded by his parents, sisters, and even Y/N’s mum and dad, who had flown in a few days earlier and were now deep in conversation with Nicole about travel itineraries. Everyone had hit it off so well it felt almost suspiciously easy.

When Oscar caught Y/N’s eye, he gave her the biggest, brightest grin; lifting his camera to snap yet another picture. She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, her cheeks hurting from how much she’d been doing that all day.

Mae bumped her shoulder. “If he takes one more photo of you, I swear I’m staging an intervention.”

Y/N laughed. “He’s just excited.”

“He’s obsessed,” Mae corrected, mock-gagging. “Which, like, ew—but fine, I’ll allow it. I guess the two of you have grown on me or whatever.”

After that night, after the confetti and champagne and all the unspoken feelings finally pouring out, everything shifted. But not in the overwhelming, terrifying way she once feared. Instead, it had felt natural, like tipping over into something she had been dancing around for far too long.

Oscar had made it easy. He had been patient with her, never pushing too far or too fast. They’d taken their time, quietly and confidently building something real between the ordinary chaos of uni life and the occasional chaos of his travel schedule. He visited her on campus, brought her snacks during study weeks, sat with her on the library floor when her laptop crashed mid-assignment, and FaceTimed her from hotel rooms when he was away.

She met his friends. He met hers. She attended all the race weekends she could manage, and when Oscar ended up on the podium for each of them, she claimed it was because she was his lucky charm.

They went on little weekend trips when they could, explored sleepy towns along the coast, and fell into a rhythm that made sense to no one more than it did to them.

By April, she had introduced him to her parents. He had been nervous, visibly so, but won them over within an hour, probably somewhere between helping her mum with the dishes and chatting cricket with her dad. Her parents adored him, and even her younger sister, who never liked anyone, had declared Oscar “cool enough”.

And as for Mae, well, Mae had taken some time. At first, she had reacted with a theatrical gasp and an intense interrogation session that included far too many threats. But somewhere between seeing them steal each other’s fries and catching them watching late-night movies on the couch in matching socks, Mae slowly began to soften. Now, she tolerated their PDA with exaggerated gags and pointed stares, but she also always had a smile behind it.

From a few feet away, Oscar called out, “Can I steal the graduate for a second?”

Mae lifted her hands in mock surrender. “All yours, lover boy.”

Y/N walked over, but Oscar met her halfway, reaching for her hand and pulling her gently toward the quieter edge of the lawn, near the rows of flowering jacaranda trees.

Once they were alone, he came up behind her, looping his arms around her waist and resting his chin gently on the top of her head. She exhaled slowly, leaning back into him.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he murmured, his voice warm and soft. “I’m so proud of you.”

She felt his chest rise and fall behind her, steady and grounding. She closed her eyes, letting the moment settle between them.

“You’ve worked so hard. I’ve seen every late night, every panic spiral, and every twelve-hour study session with no breaks. You did it. And you still managed to be the most incredible person I know while doing it.”

She turned slightly to look up at him, only just, her heart swelling at the earnestness in his eyes.

“I love you,” she said, voice barely more than a breath.

His arms tightened around her. “I love you too,” he said without hesitation, without doubt. “So much.”

He kissed her softly, letting the words settle between them, and then—

“Ugh! Do you guys have to do that here?” Mae’s voice rang out from across the lawn, disgusted and familiar.

Y/N pulled back, about to laugh and move away, but Oscar grinned and said, “Oh, we absolutely have to.”

Then he kissed her again. Deliberately. With both hands cupping her face and enough drama to make Mae start gagging theatrically.

“You’re the worst!” Mae yelled through her hands. “There are children around!”

“We’re twenty-two, Mae,” Y/N called back between giggles, “You’ll survive.”

Oscar just laughed and kissed her forehead before taking her hand in his.

They made their way back to the group, where Nicole had already pulled out her phone to snap more photos and was pretending not to notice the dramatic sighs Mae was letting out, but Y/N didn’t care.

A year ago, she never would’ve imagined this. But now? Now it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Her heart was full. Her degree was in her hands. And Oscar was right beside her, exactly where she wanted him.

jeepers. we’ve really done it now mr. krabs. hope u loved the req anon, and as always send any more whenever you’d like!!

[kozyndan]

"Minka-ski Space" 30x51cm painting (42.5 x133cm scroll) nihonga paint on washi paper, fabric scroll 2024

Edit: SOLD

Our first kakejiku in over 3 years, this traditional nihonga (Japanese mineral pigment paint) artwork was inspired by the old joinery in our 140 year old farmhouse in the Japanese countryside, and our young cats who figured out they could ascend the columns like a tree trunk and have a whole new world to explore in the rafters over our heads. Like many of our cat paintings, almost all the cats are ours, or friends' cats. The cats are not, however, existing in one dimension, but we seem to be seeing multiple dimensions of cats and joinery in the same moment and thus it may seem to make sense to our perception and then lose sense and back again - they seem to have their own kind of logic.

Kozy painted this artwork using the very traditional medium of Japanese painting - crushing minerals into a fine powder herself and mixing them into warmed hide glue to make each color, repeatedly re-warming the mixture to keep it at the correct temperature necessary to paint it onto the handmade washi paper.

Once the painting was finished, we took it to a father and son scroll making team in the mountains of Minobu, Yamanashi, where we selected the elements of fabric they would use to build the scroll around the painting (one might assume a painting is attached to the front of a scroll, but in fact the fabric elements are cut and glued to fit around the painting instead).

We have sent this painting off to Outré Gallery in Melbourne, Australia for their 2024 Vanguard group exhibition, which is on view September 6 - 29, 2024.

[sunsetkerr]

BEFORE A GAME WITH Y/N L/N | s.kerr

summary: netball australia releases a video with you (and sam) before a game. [1k words]

pairing: netball!reader x sam kerr

notes: another netball!reader because I love her

[OPENING SHOT OF Y/N'S HOME IN ADELAIDE. A MAGPIE SITS IN A TREE, CALLING OUT]

6:28AM, Y/N L/N'S HOME

THE MORNING OF ADELAIDE THUNDERBIRDS VS. MELBOURNE VIXENS

[SHOT OF Y/N'S BEDROOM WINDOW, THE SUN IS BEGINNING TO RISE. Y/N’S VOICEOVER BEGINS]

Y/N L/N: So, it's around 6:30 in the morning right now. Today is game day, we're playing melbourne and I have to be at the stadium by- (Y/N LOOKS DOWN AT HER PHONE, BLINKING A FEW TIMES) -9:30 for strat.

INTERVIEWER: Are you tired?

(Y/N LAUGHS, EXHALING THROUGH HER NOSE)

Y/N L/N: So tired.

Y/N L/N: I like to let sam sleep when I have to be up early.

[CLIP OF Y/N BRUSHING SAM'S HAIR OUT OF HER FACE AS SHE SLEEPS. SHORT CLIPS OF Y/N PULLING HER KIT OUT OF THE CUPBOARD, QUIETLY AS TO NOT WAKE HER GIRLFRIEND UP]

Y/N L/N: She flew in from Brisbane last night. (Y/N PAUSES TO MAKE SURE SAM IS STILL SLEEPING) Got in around midnight. So she needs a good sleep. (SMILES AT SAM)

[Y/N'S KITCHEN; Y/N SITTING AT THE KITCHEN BENCH, STILL IN HER PYJAMAS]

Y/N L/N: Game days I eat a big-ish breakfast. Some times we do team breakfasts if it's an earlier match, but we start at 6 tonight- so I'm eating here.

[CLIPS OF Y/N MAKING BREAKFAST; CEREAL AND YOGURT, MIXED NUTS ON TOP]

Y/N L/N: My grandad, well my Pa, used to have this cereal and when I was in juniors, I would eat it before my games. So now that I'm old (LAUGHING) and live out of home, he misses the cereal with the nuts and drops it off every month.

[PICTURES OF Y/N AND HER PA, OLD AND NEW]

Y/N L/N: He doesn't really like netball, but he watches it for me.

[Y/N EATING HER BREAKFAST QUIETLY AT THE BENCH, TRYING NOT TO LAUGH WITH HER MOUTH FULL]

Y/N L/N: (SWALLOWS BEFORE SPEAKING) I feel very strange with you all watching me eat.

[B-ROLL FOOTAGE; Y/N SAT EATING, PANS TO CREW FILMING HER. LAUGHTER FROM BEHIND THE CAMERA]

(SAM WALKS INTO THE KITCHEN, PAUSES WHEN SHE SEES THE CREW. LAUGHTER EMITS FROM Y/N AND FROM THE CREW]

SAM KERR: Um.. (PAUSES) What the *BEEP* is going on?

(MORE LAUGHTER)

[CUTS TO Y/N SITTING WITH SAM ON THE BENCH, SAM LEANING HER HEAD ON Y/N'S SHOULDER]

Y/N L/N: This is my girlfriend, her name is Sam.

(SAM WAVES TIREDLY AT THE CAMERA)

Y/N L/N: She should be asleep right now.

SAM KERR: I would be, but there's ten random people in our home right now (LAUGHS)

7:33AM

[CUTS TO Y/N IN THE BATHROOM, SKINCARE PRODUCTS SET UP BEHIND HER]

Y/N L/N: Before I go to the stadium, I shower and shave. I always try to remember to shave my armpits (LAUGHS) on the morning of games, but sometimes.. I forget. I keep my hair up and try not to get it wet, because I'll wash it later tonight after the game.

[CLOSE UP OF PRODUCTS BEHIND Y/N]

Y/N L/N: I get out all my stuff to wash my face with and everything before my shower so I don't forget anything.. because.. I will.

SAM KERR: *OFFSCREEN* She will.

Y/N L/N: Let's keep the heckling to a minimum, shall we?

8:19AM

SAM KERR: Y/N takes forever in the shower, so I usually, if I'm here, will try to make sure she's got everything.

(SAM PULLS A THUNDERBIRDS DUFFLE OUT FROM THE CUPBOARD, PLACING IT ON THE BED)

SAM KERR: This is her game bag, she needs her training gear and shoes. Her dress is at the stadium ready for her, which is good- because it would be all wrinkled, like the rest of her stuff (LAUGHS).

(SAM FOLDS AND PUTS Y/N'S CLOTHES INTO HER BAG)

SAM KERR: Uhh, clothes, shoes, deodorant. What else? Body wash. This is her little bag that she brings to shower after, has all her special, fancy stuff in it. And I'll- (SAM PULLS A HOODIE FROM THE CUPBOARD) put this in here, because it'll be cold when she comes home.

[Y/N PEERS AROUND THE CORNER, HER TOWEL WRAPPED AROUND HER. SHE TRIES TO KEEP HER BODY OUT OF SHOT]

Y/N L/N: Can I come in now?

8:36AM

[Y/N'S CAR; SAM IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT, Y/N IN THE PASSENGER]

SAM KERR: I feel like we're vloggers or something

Y/N L/N: No, I know (SMILES)

SAM KERR: Hey guys! Welcome back to our channel!

(Y/N LAUGHS WITH SAM)

Y/N L/N: So now I'm on my way to Netball SA to meet the girls, Sam's driving me because she's a good girlfriend.

SAM KERR: I didn't wanna be left alone.

Y/N L/N: That too. The stadium is in the city and my place is like forty-five-ish minutes away? Thirty-five with good traffic.

SAM KERR: Your phones going off bub

Y/N L/N: It's Georgie (CHUCKLES)

SAM KERR: (BANGING THE STEERING WHEEL PLAYFULLY WITH A SMILE) Georgie Horjus!

Y/N L/N: she wants to know if you're allowed to be driving with how much sleep you've had.

(SAM LAUGHS, ADJUSTING HER SUNGLASSES)

SAM KERR: Probably not, tell her to piss off.

9:17AM

[CLIP OF Y/N KISSING SAM GOODBYE THROUGH THE OPEN CAR WINDOW. SAM PULLS AWAY, BUT HOLDS Y/N'S HEAD CLOSE]

[SUBTITLES APPEAR AS SAM TALKS INAUDIBLY]

SAM KERR: *MUMBLED* I love you

[SAM QUICKLY KISSES Y/N ONCE MORE BEFORE TIGHTENING THE RIBBON IN Y/N'S PONYTAIL FOR HER]

[CLIP OF Y/N WALKING INTO THE STADIUM]

Y/N: So we're at the stadium, heading in to talk strategy with the girls for today's game. After that we'll do drills and warm ups, probably rewatch our last game again- boring stuff really (CHUCKLES). Oh, oh-

[CAMERA PANS TO TIPPAH DWAN, GOAL SHOOTER AND GOAL ATTACK FOR THE ADELAIDE THUNDERBIRDS. SHE SKIPS OVER TO Y/N, SUNGLASSES OVER HER EYES]

TIPPAH DWAN: Hey!

Y/N L/N: This is Tippah, my starting attacker.

TIPPAH DWAN: Dream-team here really (SHRUGS)

Y/N L/N: Thanks for spending my morning with me.

(TIPPAH PULLS Y/N IN FOR A TIGHT HUG AS Y/N LAUGHS, WAVING TO THE CAMERA)

TIPPAH DWAN: Now get outta here!

6:03PM

[CLIP OF Y/N TAKING TO COURT, TIGHTENING HER PONYTAIL UNDER THE GOAL RING. PANS OVER TO SAM KERR, WHO SITS WITH OTHER THUNDERBIRD PLAYERS PARTNERS. SHE IS CLAPPING, AND CHEERING FOR Y/N AS THE COUNTDOWN TO THE GAME BEGINS]

[THE SCREEN TURNS BLANK AS THE WHISTLE SOUNDS]

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Friday

SpaceTime 20250523 Series 28 Episode 62

A new theory to explain the birth of Dark Matter

A new study claims Dark Matter may have formed when fast particles slowed down and got heavy.

First Visible-light Aurorae seen on Mars

NASA’s Mars Perseverance Mars rover has made history by detecting visible-light Aurorae on another planet for the first time.

A new type of massive X-ray explosion discovered near monster black holes

Astronomers have for the first time probed the physical environment of a recently discovered new type of repeating X-ray outburst found near monster supermassive black holes.

The Science Report

Artificial intelligence chatbots found to exaggerate the scope of research in scientific papers.

Engineers invent a small neuromorphic device that detects hand movement and stores memories.

Scientists have discovered the oldest ancestor for all the Australian tree frogs

Skeptics guide to remote viewing Martians

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through your favourite podcast download provider or from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He was the dorky school kid who spent his weekends at the Australian Museum. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on a career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. His first gigs were spent as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist, and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth. That compares to the ABC’s overall radio listenership of just 5.6 per cent. The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[mysticalsadgirl]

3, 7, 9 for fic writer asks?👀

3.What is the most amount of research you’ve done for the smallest detail? What was the detail and how much time/effort went into researching it?

So when I was writing lose on losing dogs, I remember researching which trees would be found in the San Fernando valley in 1987 (which took around 45 mins to get accurate-ish answers) all so that the trees Daniel (LaRusso) was using for his bonsais were accurate. A literal throwaway sentence. More recently there was the absolute time sink of the Bobst Library for the Devil's Minion ballet fic. I couldn't find lay out information for 1979 or now (I.e. Where the sections are, bathrooms, elevators etc.) and had to be vague 😭

7. Share a line or paragraph you’ve written that you don’t think will ever actually be posted in anything! (Or, if you don’t hoard cut sentences and passages like I do, share anything you want that has yet to see the light of day!)

This from a yellowjackets post rescue fic that I ended up scrapping.

"The sand is soft, sucking Charlotte in deeper while the tide licks at her ankles. This has been the routine for the year and a half since she moved into the beach house. Not by choice, exactly, but her father has exquisite taste in cages. This one is much nicer than the one in Switzerland as well.

Charlotte's parents are currently living in Melbourne. They say it's because her grandmother is lonely after her husband -Charlotte's grandfather- died. Charlotte tries really hard to believe that they moved to Australia out of love.

The pocket of Northern California they picked is as stunning as it is remote. Charlotte looked at some old maps of the area and compared them to current ones, roads and towns have been gouged out and smoothed over with slick highways and nothing else. She's not that out of the way though, she's only a two hour drive from San Francisco when there's not much traffic and she remembers to take the right road. Charlotte has a habit of missing her exits when driving. She did this occasionally as a teenager but since Switzerland she does it all the time.

The gulls begin their morning chorus with the rising of the sun, the tame sea is tainted with splashes of apricot. Charlotte wiggles her toes and decides to head back inside. Northern California isn't cold enough for her, not even in January. In fact, Charlotte is certain she lost her ability to shiver around five years ago."

(I have so many cut snippets from so many things btw if anyone else is interested lol)

9. Do you prefer to read angst or fluff? Which do you prefer to write? you prefer to read angst or fluff? Which do you prefer to write?

No but I do enjoy writing/reading angst but I do need some happiness/glimmer of hope in it or else it makes me feel too down. But I very rarely find straight up fluff interesting 😅

[angev111696969n]

Today I saw flowering: aloes, round leaved navelworts, century agave, silver princess gum, daylilies, angel's trumpet, papyrus, arum lily, somewhere else, outdoor elephant ear alocasia next to the arum lilies. Pandorea vines, potato vine. Passionfruit. The south african and central american things minus the gym. Gymea lilies pregnant at the top with a red mass that's like my favourite cut flower ever. I saw a poinsettia tree? Earlier in the year datura. I love Melbourne omg

[davidmahlercomics]

Cut Neck Lip Girl Hole

I released a new mini comic zine as part of the last Tree Paper Gallery Small Tales risograph zine launch. I missed the opening cuz I had to cover a shift... But super grateful to finally get my hands on them, I love the blue on white!

Here's the shaded version (didn't finish before the deadline) and the fold-out poster from the reverse. If you'd like a copy reach out

Thank you so much to Sam Emery from Tree Paper for including me in this awesome project, and the City of Melbourne who provided support and funding.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Jane tours an established food forest where nearly everything you see is good enough to eat.

Deep in the Yarra Valley about an hour Northeast of Melbourne, Jane visits a garden filled with over 300 plants from around the world. This dense one-acre food forest is purposed as an edible and medicinal forest. It is also a wedding venue and home to the initiator of the project, Louise Ward, who lives here with her husband. Louise says they are “mimicking the normal forest as a food system...things that you would find when you go into a forest. Some things you can eat and some things you can't, but they all have their purpose within the forest. That's what the edible forest is all about.”

Louise came across the idea while researching permaculture and saw the term edible forest. “I thought wow that would be amazing... it'll be like the garden of Eden. People can walk in and taste. I can just see it in front of me,” she says. The site began as a clear open paddock on clay soil, so to improve the soil she and her husband brought in manure of all kinds. Now, everywhere you look is covered in plants along structured pathways and the result is that “there's a lot of produce,” says Louise, “We’re always having to think what we do with it. Because we’ve got the business here, we use it in the menus as well.”

Horticulturalist Jamie Sweetman has looked after these plants for nearly four years and takes tour groups around the garden. Jamie says, “we've got about 330 plants in here and about 200 are edible. The other hundred just fit into the system, so they will be attracting beneficial bugs or nitrogen-fixing. Everything has to have an excuse to be in here.” Large areas of the garden are protected by a netted structure which keeps out deer, rabbits and cockatoos, while still allowing the smaller creatures in. Jamie says, “the little birds can come in, so we've got blue wrens in here... they come in and out of the fence line as they please. The bees and the dragon flies, all the good stuff.”

Some of the plants harvested for medicinal purposes include rosehips and elderberry which can be made into syrups. Peruvian gooseberries can be eaten fresh, but a favourite this time of year is the chokeberry. Jamie says despite the name, “no, you won't choke but they're quite astringent. In saying that they have more antioxidants in them than blueberries. Easier to grow, they make a great hedge, easy to harvest and all ripen at the same time... they are in the rose family, you can kind of tell by the leaf shape.”

A common method of repurposing green waste is to chop-and-drop. Jamie explains “you'll cut something down and drop it on the ground so that the nutrients can go back into the ground.” The version they’re using in the edible forest is a wire structure shaped into a cylinder in which the green waste is piled up. Jamie says, “we will pull that up soon, throw some mulch over the top, leave it for a while and it’s building soil on site.” They also have a wetland area where everything is edible, including the Australian native water fern, nardoo, and a range of other nitrogen fixing plants such as the Persian silk tree. Jamie explains that nitrogen-fixing plants “have nodules on their roots that turn nitrogen into forms that other plants find accessible, so they’re self-fertilising our garden for us.”

Amongst all these plants with purpose, Louise does have a special favourite, the gotu kola. Louise says, “it’s a medicinal one, so it's not the most beautiful looking one... it’s very very happy over here and it’s a great little groundcover, too.” Louise says, “gardening is one of the best things I've ever discovered. It's just wonderful. Getting your hands dirty is just one of the most wonderful things in the world. It's really good for you mentally. It's everything.”

[female-malice]

Mark Wootton and his wife, Eve Kantor, were the carbon-neutral pioneers of Australia’s red meat industry.

Years before the Paris agreement to keep global heating below 1.5C, and a decade before the Australian government committed to reaching net zero emissions, their family farm in south-western Victoria was declared carbon-neutral.

“In the early 2010s we were pretty cocky that we had conquered this thing,” Wootton says. “We thought we’d cracked the formula.”

Jigsaw Farms, a mosaic of lush pastures, eucalypt plantations, wildlife corridors and wetlands about 250km west of Melbourne, near the town of Hamilton, was the envy of the industry. It was lionised by the media, a favoured photo opportunity by politicians and held up by the red meat sector as a vision of the future.

The farm’s carbon-rich soils, 20% of which were forested, sequestered enough CO2 to offset its annual emissions from wool, lamb and beef production.

Or at least it did. The latest report tracking Jigsaw’s emissions, which is now undergoing peer review, confirmed that since about 2017 – the same year the industry body Meat and Livestock Australia (MLA) announced a target of net zero emissions by 2030 – Jigsaw Farms has been emitting more greenhouse gases than it could sequester.

“Cows and sheep are still there producing the same amount of methane [every year], but the trees grow up and carbon sequestration slows down,” says the report author, Prof Richard Eckard.

Eckard is an agricultural economist and the director of the school of agriculture, food and ecosystem sciences at the University of Melbourne. He became involved in measuring Jigsaw’s emissions a decade ago.

The 3,378-hectare farm spans six titles, bought by Wootton and Kantor between 1996 and 2003. Hardwood timber plantations cover 295 hectares, 24 hectares is remnant forest and a further 268 hectares are set aside for biodiversity. It hosts a fine wool merino operation with about 20,000 ewes, and 550 head of cattle.

Initially, the hundreds and thousands of trees they planted, combined with a switch to perennial grasses, significantly increased the amount of carbon sequestered on the property.

But those trees have now matured and passed peak sequestration, meaning they absorb less C02 year-on-year, and the soil is so carbon rich it can’t sequester any additional C02 from the atmosphere.

“Ten years later it all slows down because carbon saturation,” Eckard says. “It’s just the law of diminishing returns.”

The latest Jigsaw study estimated that in 2021, the farm sequestered 70.3% to 83.2% of its annual emissions. By 2031, as the farm’s forests grow older, models predict it will absorb just over half of what it did when carbon sequestration peaked in 2012.

The dilemma Jigsaw now faces reflects the broader challenge of decarbonising Australia’s red meat industry, Eckard says.

The industry claims it has reduced its emissions by 65% compared with 2005 levels, but this reduction relies on recorded decreases in deforestation and increases in forest regrowth, which some analysis suggests is overstated.

“Carbon sequestration through forestry is a short-term buy out of trouble,” Eckard says. “You can plant your way out of trouble and, like Jigsaw, get seven years of net zero, but ultimately, unless you do something about the methane, you’re not going to stay net zero.”

Climate neutrality v the ‘seaweed solution’

Other efforts to reduce the industry’s carbon footprint have focused on attempting to reduce the amount of methane expelled from the rumen, which accounts for 80% of the sector’s emissions. MLA has put more than $180m towards the problem, with no solution forthcoming. The results from the longest running commercial trial of a seaweed cow-feed, which aimed to cut methane by more than 80%, were lacklustre.

Selective breeding and dietary changes can help, says Eckard, but it’s slow going.

“It took the animal 50m years to evolve to produce meat and eat grass the way it does,” he says. “That can’t be overcome in three-year funding rounds.”

But he says that if producers adopt current best practices that will reduce their emissions intensity per kilogram of meat produced while research finds the “seaweed solution”.

On Jigsaw Farms, high reproductive rates, fast-growing livestock due to genetic selection and ample feed, and grazing stock at double the density of other farms in the district helps reduce the emissions that go into producing each animal.

“If that lamb or calf grows faster, so it gets to market quicker, so it grows faster, so, to be brutal, it can die and be eaten – your carbon intensity is dropping,” Wootton says.

This allows Jigsaw to sell its wool, lamb and beef at a premium in a market that is increasingly looking for farmers who can demonstrate strong environmental credentials.

This is particularly important for the export-focused Australian market, Eckard says. Seventy per cent of Australian-grown beef is sold into global supply chains ruled by international corporations, all of whom have net zero targets.

That’s the impetus behind the MLA’s “world leading” net zero target. This month Guardian Australia reported that the industry body described the target as “aligning the industry” towards improvement and said it did not need to be met, though it remains committed to the goal. Environmental scientists say reporting on the goal is based on unreliable land clearing data.

David Jochinke, the president of the National Farmers Federation, says the target is about the “aspiration” towards decarbonisation.

“We’ve always said at the NFF, we’re not going to reduce production in an attempt to get to net zero,” he says. “Will we make it? I’m not really sure, but we are going to give it a red hot go.”

A 2023 CSIRO report found the industry would fall short of the net zero goal and recommended a “climate-neutral” target be adopted instead, which would theoretically be achieved by reaching a point where the sector no longer causes any additional warming to the planet.

Australia’s peak cattle body, Cattle Australia, has also called for a shift to climate neutrality. But both Eckard and Wootton say the industry shouldn’t change course.

“I fear that if the industry fiddled with the metric what they would be effectively saying is ‘methane is no longer an issue so we don’t have to worry about it’,” Eckard says.

The director of the Australian National University Institute for Climate, Energy and Disaster Solutions, Mark Howden, says that unachievable or “false [climate] targets” are ineffective and can alienate both industries and the public.

He says the red meat sector’s goal is “in a sense the wrong target”. “We do need to go net zero in terms of C02, but in the case of methane we need to reduce it by about two-thirds in the long term to effectively meet the Paris agreement,” he says.

Wootton says the benefits of their regenerative approach to farming persist even if the farm’s carbon accounts are now in the red.

They did not initially set out to be carbon-neutral. The timber plantations were established on Jigsaw Farms to offer an alternative source of income. They planted permanent native vegetation to encourage biodiversity and shelter belts to protect livestock, and dug deep dams so they would always have a secure water supply.

A bird survey in 1996 found 46 bird species on the land. Today, there are 174. The land is healthier – that is, ironically, why carbon sequestration has stabilised.

“People come to us and go, shit, if they can’t go carbon-neutral, what does that mean for us,” Wootton says.

“It means you’ll have to do some of what we’ve done, do things differently from what we’ve done, and do some other things that we don’t even know we can do yet.

“There’s no silver bullet here, but there’s some silver buckshot, hopefully.”

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

@monthly-challenge 2024 | 14. "I Love You"

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,286

It was the perfect afternoon to be walking through a forest, leaves crunching and just enough coolness in the air to make walking something Patience relished. She didn’t need to be bundled up in more than the one jumper, but she could enjoy the wool against her skin, and enjoy being warmed through and glowing with exercise.

And, of course, there was Nathan, to top off the perfection of it all. His merry conversation brightened her heart and mind.

At present they were talking of Rhona.

“She’s great,” said Patience, warmly. “I’m so glad I got over my dislike of her years ago. Sometimes she’s very upbeat, when I can’t see anything good in a situation, but she manages to see it. It’s good for me: I’m not an optimist, naturally. I’m fairly pessimistic. Chalk that up to autism, maybe, but it’s true. Rhona still has that fire in her heart which I wish I had.”

“You’re getting very poetic today,” he said. “I’m surprised you don’t consider yourself an optimist. You always seem to see the bright side, to me.”

“Oh, trust me, that’s an act. Or at least, it’s something I’ve taught myself. And Rhona has helped to teach me that.”

“If you’re a pessimist then I don’t know what I am. A nihilist, maybe.”

“Oh, you’re not a nihilist!” She turned to him, laughing; the laughter faded a little as she saw how serious he was. “Honestly, Nathan.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I have those leanings.” He shrugged, shook off the dark thought. “Anyway, it’s a beautiful day and a beautiful day to be out walking with the girl I love. I hope you’re enjoying it as much as I am.”

“I don’t know precisely how much you’re enjoying it, so I can’t say,” she said lightheartedly. She was glad of the change of subject.

“With all my heart and soul,” and he was the most serious she had yet seen him that day.

“Then yes—I’m enjoying it as much as you are.”

“Good.”

They walked on hand in hand, except when Patience broke the grasp to go and frolic briefly in a large pile of leaves.

“When I was a kid,” she told him exultantly, “I prayed I’d never lose my love of autumn leaves and playing in them. I think my prayers have been answered. And plane trees make the best leaves.”

“And the best allergens, but anyway.”

“I can see why they want to get them out of Melbourne—there are so many—but while I may I shall play in their leaves,” replied Patience. She pushed a stray hair out of her face, went to rejoin Nathan and slipped. He pulled her out of the pile, asking if she was hurt, but she was hurt in no way apart from her pride, and still laughing.

And she knew she was beautiful in his sight.

They walked together hand in hand, silent now and listening to the birds. Abruptly Nathan said, “I love you.”

She glanced at him, jewel-bright. “I love you too. I’m glad we have this time.”

“So am I. Gosh—I remember when I first phoned you up, a year and a half ago now.”

“Not a year and a half, not yet: we’re only in April, remember.”

“Oh, close enough,” he said, smiling. “I remember phoning you. I meant to ask you out right then and there, but I chickened out. And then I stared at the phone just before I rang you and wondered who would pick it up? And it was you, and all my prayers were answered. I think I said something stupid about Saint Stephen’s Day, just because it sounded too scary to keep talking. And because I’d intended to ask you out as a proper date, I didn’t actually have a time in mind, but I knew I was free all day so I picked a time. I woke up late that next morning, purposefully stayed up late so I would wake up late because of nerves. I wondered what you’d think of me. And then I felt like I muffed the whole asking you out on a date thing, and that you’d never accept me. I’d liked you as not-just-a-friend for two months at that stage, I’m pretty sure. One time I saw you dancing with Steve, and you moved so gracefully and I was watching and then I was just like, Oh, I’m in love with her. It was as simple as that. It felt like a bombshell, honestly. I hadn’t expected that, but suddenly there it was. Love. I didn’t question it at any point of the process; I didn’t say, Am I sure I really love her? I just waited for a couple of months, and tried to befriend you better, but in the end it was just that I felt I needed to tell you or bust.”

Patience gripped his hand. “Meanwhile I was there completely innocent of any feelings for you, Nathan, and then you said you wanted a date—like, I’d guessed it was possible that was what you were asking about, so I’d had some thoughts on the matter, but I still had no idea what I was planning to say when you asked me out. Things just happened. I said what I felt like and it turned out that meant that we were going to go on dates. It was a bit surreal, really.”

“It was surreal for me too. I really thought you were interested in Steve, and if you’d said no I would have asked if it was Steve.”

“Heavens, no!” she exclaimed, in a voice that made him laugh. “Not Steve. Listen, I love the guy, but we’d never work out. He’s not kind enough—that is, not in the way I need my boyfriend and hopefully eventual husband to be.” She looked at him again, sidelong. “Like you are.”

“You dear thing,” he said, and kissed her quickly.

Patience smiled at him. “You’re very dear to me, and I’m ever so glad you plucked up the courage to ask. Honestly, I think girls have it easy—we aren’t expected to ask you lot out, at least if we don’t want to. But then again that does mean that we’re sitting in silence wondering if the gentleman likes us or not.”

“And some men aren’t gentlemen about it, either,” he said. “But if God is with me I’ll do my best to be a gentleman for you for the rest of my life.” He laid his hand on his heart, and what might have seemed melodramatic seemed only painfully sincere. Nathan was utterly in earnest.

“Thank you,” she said, and told him again that she loved him. “You’re almost too good to be true, you know.”

“What! I have far too many vices.”

“No, but in our relationship. Really it runs remarkably smoothly. I would have expected to be in a relationship which was pretty volatile, myself. But you’ve made this relationship easy and pleasant for me. For that, I thank you.”

“That sounds like you’re about to break up with me,” he said, with a somewhat nervous laugh.

“Never!—Well, I won’t say never, not until we’ve truly committed ourselves to each other. But for now I will say I cannot see myself wanting to walk away from this relationship at any point, near or far. You’re the one I love.”

“Barbara Manatee,” he agreed placidly, and both broke into giggles.

“All right, I walked straight into that one,” she agreed, covering her mouth. “But I was sincere about it.”

“I know. So was I. Assigned Barbara Manatee at VeggieTales reference.”

Their laughter continued until morale improved.

Tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun @graycedelfin @pilgrimsofworship@noisette-tornade and @choasuqeen

[autisticempathydaemon]

Redacted-tober 2023 Day Nineteen

Prompt: Christian & Bridging

Pairing: Alexis/Christian, Alexis & Porter

cw: suggestive language

Summary: Alexis and Porter catch up and gossip now that he’s back in town, and he wants to hear about his little sister’s new beau.

Read on AO3 here!

<- Previous Day | Next Day ->

“Have you two done it yet?” Alexis stops in her tracks to give Porter a droll, deadpan look that has him chuckling a melodious, light sound that travels with the wind through the ruins of Wonderworld. She swipes lazily at his neck with sharp nails and a roll of the eyes, and he evades her with deft dancer’s feet. “Little Lexi still waiting to pop her cherry and cross that bridge, our picky baby princess~”

“You are literally the fuckin’ worst. I’ve met sadism demons more tolerable than you,” she says, vicious and cutting and not devoid of warmth and affection. Porter grins at the familiar drawl dropping the -g’s off her words and wraps a casual, friendly arm around her shoulder despite the way she literally hisses at him.

“Just you wait; bridging with a shifter, especially a wolf, is a life changing experience. There’s nothing quite like it- at least, until you try his knot.” A stiletto sharp elbow to the ribs, and the older vampire doubles over in more laughter than pain as the Solaire princess swats the back of his head.

“Every time you go abroad, you come back more annoying and more of a pervert,” Alexis says, teeth bright and white as she can’t help but laugh at and with him. “Whose door did you darken this time?”

“I’ve been making friends with the Wrights in Melbourne. What can I say, the Aussies love me and the acce- What do you look like that for?” Porter’s pompous smugness drops when Alexis’s face does, and he inches closer when she covers her face with a loud, aggravated groan.

“Of course you’ve been sleepin’ your way around Australia, that’s just my goddamn luck. I-”

“Lex?”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin me.” The two vampires turn towards the newcomer jogging his way through the trees, and Porter grins in sheer, assholish delight. He arches a brow at Alexis who glares at him between perfectly manicured nails. She shakes her head as Christian looks on in suspicious confusion, and Porter’s smile widens because when has Alexis’s disapproval ever done anything but encourage and amuse him?

“Your girlfriend sucks… and not in the fun way. How’d you like to try me on for size?” is what the alluring vampire tries to say before Alexis lands a swing at his neck.

[plasticfangtastic]

Do you like living in Australia? How was living in Venezuela (if I’m getting that right)?

Been here for almost 15 years and am still barely used to the weather. The summers still get to me bcuz they r so dry ans i mean humans arent meant to survive 35 to 38 degrees celcius. Trust me 38 degrees its a crime and makes u wanna vomit just being in your own skin.

I like it here and i live in the most boring city in the country so its safe and quiet and everything is so far away but then again this state could fit my whole country in without a problem so its expected and you get used to travelling 1 hr to get fancy ice cream or just go anywhere. I only been to melbourne and sydney and they are nice cities but Adelaide is so much better even if its small and boring... at least the transport system makes sense and isnt overpriced like in sydney.

I think maybe in 10 yrs i could see myself moving to another state or overseas but who knows.

Venezuela was a bit of a blur i moved here after turning 15 but my memory its spotty but i remember it being a very beautiful and busy, i lived in Maracay so it was a big busy city, but i grew up during Chavez dictatorship...so i basically saw my country deteriorate as time went by and while i didnt want to come to australia and didnt understood why we were moving... i understood with due time as the economy did collapse after we left in 2010.

My family was lower middle class so we werent having a horrible time but not a great time either... i do remember the schedule and not schedule blackouts and my shower being occupied by massive water barrels holding our bathing water bcuz god knows when they were gonna cut the water and for how long, or my parent arguing about bills and money-- we always had food but luxuries and travelling were off the table. My dad had it hard as he grew up in the US so he moved to Venezuela back when it was booming and great, so he was eager to leave but not as much as my mom.

I do miss the food and the mountains...but specially the mountains and trees... SA its so flat.

Sometimes i do wonder what would have happened if we moved to Canada as it was intended or the US had my grandpa and my mum werent opposed to it... mom thought the US was ugly and unsafe which is funny considering she grew up in Petare and one of her cousins is/was a suspected serial killer.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Wednesday

SpaceTime 20250507 Series 28 Episode 55

How giant exploding stars make uranium

A new study has provided fresh clues explaining how exploding stars produce uranium, and other heavy elements by dissolving into neutrons.

Shattering long-held beliefs about the asteroid Vesta

A new study suggests the mysterious world Vesta is just a really big asteroid.

Did it rain or snow on ancient Mars

A new study has supported the long held scientific view that geological formations seen on the red planet Mars were formed by water and snow billions of years ago.

The Science Report

A new study warns that microplastic pollution is now everywhere.

The dangers of washing medical scrubs and uniforms at home.

Discovery that spruce trees not only respond to a solar eclipse but actively anticipate them.

Alex on Tech: infostealer attack.

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through your favourite podcast download provider or from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He was the dorky school kid who spent his weekends at the Australian Museum. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on a career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. His first gigs were spent as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist, and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth. That compares to the ABC’s overall radio listenership of just 5.6 per cent. The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[axrecyclingau]

Paper Recycling Melbourne – Building a Sustainable Future One Sheet at a Time

Why Paper Recycling Is Crucial for Melbourne’s Urban Environment

As Melbourne continues to grow into a bustling hub of business, education, and innovation, the city also faces mounting environmental challenges. Among them, paper waste stands as a silent but significant contributor to landfills. That’s where paper recycling Melbourne becomes a game-changing solution—offering economic, environmental, and social benefits all in one.

On average, Australians use over 230 kg of paper per person every year. Fortunately, Melbourne is emerging as a leader in sustainable waste management, with growing efforts to divert paper waste away from landfills and into efficient recycling systems.

What Happens During the Paper Recycling Process in Melbourne?

Paper recycling is a systematic process that transforms used paper into new, usable material. Here's how it works in Melbourne:

Collection: Businesses, schools, and households dispose of paper waste in dedicated recycling bins.

Sorting: At recycling facilities, the paper is sorted into different types—newspaper, cardboard, office paper, etc.

Shredding & Pulping: The sorted paper is shredded and mixed with water to create pulp.

Cleaning & De-Inking: The pulp is filtered to remove inks, adhesives, and other contaminants.

Drying & Rolling: The clean pulp is dried and pressed into large rolls, ready to be repurposed into fresh paper products.

Melbourne’s local recycling centers are increasingly adopting advanced technologies to make this process faster, cleaner, and more energy-efficient.

Top Benefits of Paper Recycling in Melbourne

Paper recycling goes far beyond just reducing waste. Here are the core benefits Melbourne residents and businesses can enjoy:

Environmental Impact: Recycling one tonne of paper saves around 13 trees, 4000 kilowatts of energy, and 26,000 litres of water.

Landfill Reduction: Paper makes up a large portion of general waste. Recycling helps reduce pressure on Melbourne’s landfills.

Lower Greenhouse Emissions: Fewer trees cut down means more carbon absorption and lower CO₂ levels.

Economic Value: Recycled paper is often cheaper to produce and can be reintroduced into supply chains as packaging, tissues, and printing paper.

Community Engagement: Schools, offices, and councils running recycling programs create awareness and promote environmental responsibility.

Who Should Consider Paper Recycling Services in Melbourne?

Paper recycling isn’t just for large corporations—it benefits everyone. Here’s who can make the most of it:

Offices & Workspaces: Melbourne’s corporate hubs generate tons of paper daily. Recycling can help businesses reduce waste and operate sustainably.

Educational Institutions: Schools and universities can significantly lower their environmental footprint by integrating recycling into daily operations.

Retailers & Packaging Units: Businesses that deal with a lot of packaging can benefit by recycling cartons and printed materials.

Homeowners: Households play a critical role in responsible waste segregation and recycling.

Whether you’re running a business or managing a home, paper recycling in Melbourne is accessible and highly impactful.

Future Trends – Melbourne's Push Towards a Circular Economy

Melbourne is actively transitioning toward a circular economy, where materials are reused and repurposed continuously, reducing the need for virgin resources. Paper recycling is a cornerstone of this initiative. Trends shaping the future include:

Smart bins and AI sorting in recycling plants

Government incentives for businesses adopting zero-waste practices

Increased demand for recycled paper in eco-conscious packaging

Educational campaigns for kids and young adults to foster lifelong sustainability habits

These developments ensure that paper recycling will remain an integral part of Melbourne’s green future.

Conclusion: Make the Smart Move with Paper Recycling in Melbourne

From reducing environmental impact to supporting local sustainability goals, paper recycling in Melbourne is more than just a trend—it’s a necessity. Every sheet of recycled paper contributes to cleaner air, reduced landfill use, and a greener city for future generations.

As a resident, business owner, or community leader, you have the power to make a difference. Adopt responsible recycling habits today and be part of Melbourne’s journey toward a zero-waste future.

Source From : Paper Recycling Melbourne – Building a Sustainable Future One Sheet at a Time

[marketing-webzone]

Regular House Cleaning in Melbourne CBD: 7 Eco-Friendly Tips

Are you eco-conscious when it comes to keeping your home clean? Use environment-friendly practices for tidying up your living space. Adopting sustainable cleaning measures will make you create a positive impact on the environment. It will help you maintain an eco-friendly home without compromising health and hygiene. As an eco-savvy homeowner, you can explore some practical tips for regular house cleaning in Melbourne CBD. Read on to discover the following:

Use Eco-Sensitive Cleaning Products

First, replace harsh chemicals with natural ones, such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon. For instance, mix vinegar and water to make an all-purpose cleaning solution. It can cut through grease and disinfect surfaces with no germs. Besides being effective, these ingredients are tender on surfaces as well as the environment. Most importantly, they are one of the safest cleaning options for your family and pets.

Select Recyclable Cleaning Tools

Invest in sustainable clothes, microfiber towels, and cleanable mop heads instead of throwaway wipes and paper towels. Microfiber cloths are highly porous. You can use it with just water. Thus, it eliminates the need for chemical cleaners and disposable products. Use this tip to reduce waste and save expenses in the long run.

Preserve Water Resources

Using water wisely and saving it for the future is an ultimate step you can take as a responsible citizen. Following this, you need to turn off the taps when not in use. For cleaning purposes, you should use a bucket in place of running water. You can fill a bucket with water and an appropriate amount of eco-friendly detergent for regular house cleaning Melbourne CBD. It would be the best way to clean every surface without wasting water.

Recycle Cleaning Products with Care

Follow the rules of the right recycling. Discard cleaning product containers and packaging with responsibility. Also, find products with recyclable packaging that have less impact on the environment. You can opt for eco-friendly cleaning brands. They offer recyclable packaging materials, such as biodegradable cardboard or PET plastic. The best part is that you can recycle them after use.

Consume Less Energy for Regular House Cleaning in Melbourne CBD

If you choose daytime for cleaning your household, it will help you save energy with minimal use of artificial lighting. Keep your windows open for natural ventilation. On the other hand, you should avoid using air fresheners as they contain harmful chemicals. Moreover, natural sunlight provides great visibility for routine cleaning. Besides, it is the natural way to disinfect your indoors and refresh your house.

 Formulate DIY Cleaning Solution

Make DIY cleaners with simple ingredients like vinegar, water, and essential oils. For example, you can mix baking soda with a few drops of essential oils like lavender or tea tree oil. It will be your homemade and natural carpet deodoriser and cleaner. However, it allows you to eliminate the need for ready-made chemicals for regular house cleaning in Melbourne CBD.

Clean with Organic Brands

Look for the brands that commit themselves to sustainability and environmentally safe practices, for purchasing necessary cleaning products and materials. Check their certifications like EcoLogo and Green Seal to ensure your cleaning methods are compliant with nature. This way, you can be align with your sustainable cleaning goals.

Wrap Up

Therefore, you need to utilise environmentally responsible cleaning aids to maintain a spotless and safe living space. Make small changes in your daily home cleaning routine and reduce your carbon footprint. For busy but eco-conscious homeowners, Urban Sparkle Cleaning will take up the job of regular house cleaning in Melbourne CBD.

They will perform this task responsibly and in a sustainable way. We are experts at eco-friendly commercial cleaning Melbourne CBD, in addition to household cleaning. Reach out to us to hire our professional cleaners instead of DIY and have an ecologically sound residential space.

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The Smart Bathroom Revolution: Why Spalet Bidets Are the Future of Hygiene

Modern bathroom technology is evolving fast—and at the forefront of this transformation is the spalet bidet. No longer a luxury limited to high-end hotels or elite homes, these intelligent systems are changing how we think about cleanliness, comfort, and sustainability. Whether you're renovating a bathroom or simply exploring smarter hygiene solutions, here’s why the bidet toilet seat and bidet toilet combo deserves your attention.

What is a Spalet Bidet?

A spalet bidet is an advanced, integrated toilet solution that combines the best of bidet functionality with smart toilet innovation. It includes features such as warm water cleansing, adjustable pressure, heated seats, automatic flushing, and sometimes even air drying—all built into a sleek, compact unit.

These systems are different from traditional standalone bidets. They are cleaner, more space-efficient, and far more user-friendly, especially for households with elderly members or individuals with limited mobility.

Why Make the Switch?

1. Superior Hygiene

Traditional toilet paper can be abrasive and ineffective. In contrast, a spalet bidet ensures a gentle yet thorough clean with warm water. It significantly reduces bacteria, odor, and irritation.

2. Eco-Friendly Choice

Installing a bidet toilet seat can reduce toilet paper use by up to 75%, making it a smart environmental decision. Less paper means fewer trees cut down and less strain on plumbing systems.

3. Comfort and Accessibility

The ergonomic design and hands-free operation of a bidet toilet make it ideal for all age groups. Features like adjustable spray settings and temperature controls offer a personalized experience.

What Users Are Saying

“I had no idea how much my life would change after installing a spalet. The comfort and cleanliness are unmatched.” — Priya G., Homeowner in Melbourne

“As someone with arthritis, using a standard toilet was a struggle. The spalet bidet has given me independence and dignity again.” — James R., Retiree

Frequently Asked Questions

Do I need special plumbing to install a spalet bidet?

Not necessarily. Many bidet toilet seat models are designed to retrofit existing toilets, requiring only a nearby power outlet and basic water supply.

Are bidet toilets sanitary?

Absolutely. In fact, they are significantly more sanitary than using toilet paper alone. The no-touch operation minimizes contamination and spread of bacteria.

Will a spalet work in small bathrooms?

Yes. One of the advantages of a bidet toilet is that it replaces both a toilet and a separate bidet fixture, saving space without sacrificing function.

How much maintenance is involved?

Minimal. Most modern systems come with self-cleaning nozzles and antimicrobial surfaces. Regular wiping and occasional descaling are usually sufficient.

Key Features to Look For

When choosing a spalet or bidet toilet seat, consider:

Adjustable water pressure and temperature

Air drying functions

Heated seating

Remote control or panel

Energy-saving mode

Automatic lid open/close

These features not only improve user experience but also ensure the system meets varied household needs.

Final Thoughts

The spalet bidet and basin mixer  is not just a trend—it’s a practical, hygienic, and eco-conscious upgrade. With increasing awareness around personal hygiene and sustainable living, investing in a bidet toilet might be one of the smartest decisions for your home this year.

Ready to reimagine your bathroom routine? The future of hygiene is already here—and it’s smarter, cleaner, and surprisingly simple to adopt.