#hill climb racing 2

[billario18]

now i don't go use the new account, cuz i am... 😭 i dont wanna get this closed for no reason

old fanarts of mobilegames here

(actually i am active at newgrounds and insta, so heh, js)

[fingerbill]

Scary Alert

Who is in my back

[dietcokeluvr6969]

my life is like a video game, trying hard to beat the stage

[fancypantsrecords]

Game Music Collective - Restart: Finnish Game Music Revised | Self-released | 2023 | Black

[siriuslysmoking]

Villian and Violent

SPOILER WARNING ! SPOILER WARNING ! SPOILER WARNING!

If you haven't watched Outer Banks season 4 part 2, DO NOT I REPEAT DO NOT READ THIS

AN: this fic is strictly for @jlovesjj, I DO NOT write for Rafe <3, she is just a very very sad girl, in light of the recent events, I am trying to provide her with any comfort so she can stop crying. Thank you and good day.

Pairing: Rafe x Reader, bsf!JJ x reader

Warnings: It's sad, angst, death, violence, not edited (She's impatient)

You all look up to the statue that the crown was hopefully in. All you you could barely see due to the sand storm enclosing you all.

"Hey! I'm gonna go up and scope it out!" Rafe shouts over the deafening wind in your ears.

"I'm not leaving it up to him!" JJ shouts back to the group, you can practically feel Rafe rolling his eyes as he grabs your hand. Like hell is he letting you leave his sight.

"No, I'm with you!" Kiara says, joining JJ. You look back and barely see Sarah and John B struggling, She doesn't look okay, so you hear JJ shout to them.

"Hey! John B, you two sit this one out, okay? We'll find the crown..." That's the last you heard as you and Rafe make your way up the hill. Once you make it to the top of the hill, you and Rafe both meet each other's eyes. Then he starts trying to climb up the statue, he doesn't get three feet up, before the wind knocks him back down, You look at him and realise once he stands back up that it wasn't just the wind it was also his hand still bothering him. He holds it close you his chest, looking at you as both Kiara and JJ come racing up the hill.

"Hey! I can't get up there, not with this hand!" He shouts at JJ and Kie. You see them both have a conversation that you can't hear, even with them a few feet away, it's hard to hear yourself think.

"Right now this is our chance! They've taken everything away from us. They're not gonna take this too!" He pulls down his mouth covering so Kiara can hear him better. "I gotta do this, I gotta do this for all of us. I mean, hey, it was my fault to begin with. So, I mean, I should be the one to fix it."

They hug each other and JJ moves over to you and Rafe, getting ready to climb. You step up to him and say, "Hey, you're my best friend, so don't do anything stupid."

He hugs you and speaks, "I'll try."

He lets you go and looks to Rafe, Rafe helps him step up onto the platform, "You got it!"

"Hey! You'll get your cut!" JJ yells, before beginning his climb up. Rafe and you both climb down to stand with Kie and watch JJ as he moves up the statue. You hold Kiara's hand as you watch some of the old loose rocks fall around him. Suddenly he's only hanging on by one hand. You gasp as Kiara shouts his name.

Once he finally gets himself to the large platform you feel as though you can finally take a breath. As you watch JJ you hear a voice. "They have to be up here!"

You all meet each others eyes, Rafe speaks first, "Shit, here they come."

Kie shouts to JJ, trying to get his attention, but he seems confident that he can get the crown in time. "Hey! You stay here. I'll go down and buy us some time."

Kiara nods as you step to go with Rafe, "What? Rafe, are you crazy? They'll kill you!"

"I'm a killer too, I've got nothing to lose." He shouts then looks at you, "You're staying here."

"You can't make me." You yells back firmly. He knows that there is no use in fighting and you're losing time. he makes his way down the hill with you trailing behind him.

Rafe makes you stay back as you approach the group of Mercenaries, he has the luck of the storm not his side, so that they don't see him coming. He goes and cuts the man from behind, as he works with that man you see one heading your way. You're by the man's side so while he looks through the scope of his gun you shove the barrel down and jam the butt of the gun into his jaw. It knocks him down for a second before you step back and he grabs your ankle, tripping you. You stumble as he gets up and he makes his way towards you. Without any weapon, you're out of luck, he's already grabbed his gun, so you make a run for it.

You head into the small village, trying to outrun the guy. You stumble into a deserted house and looks for anything that could be considered a weapon.

"Come out you little bitch!" he shouts, by the door frame of the house, she sees the barrel of the gun and jumps out for the behind the wall and slams a stone to his head. Blood starts flowing from the top of his head, but that only slowed him down and made him more angry. He did happen to drop his gun of the impact, you grab it and slam the butt of the gun to his forehead before you can even think about what you're doing. he falls to the ground with a heavy 'thump', and you finally take a breath. You hang onto the gun, just for safekeeping, as you set a mission to find Rafe. That's when you hear a soft gunshot in the distance, you immediately perk up and try to run to the source, but with this wind and all the walls that carried it, it could be from anywhere. You head down different passageways and alleys and houses.

Once you travel far enough and the storm starts slowing down, you can finally hear something. You think it's Rafe, your worst fear is him being hurt or worse but what you come upon is much worse than anything you can imagine. You can now recognize that the sounds you heard was not in fact Rafe, it was Kie, she was leaning onto JJ's legs, crying, then you realise the small movements of JJ's chest is gone, that he sits there lifeless. You drop the heavy gun and start to tear up, Kiara doesn't even look your way, you don't think she even cares about anything other than JJ in this moment.

You start to feel your knees buckle before strong arms wrap around your middle, You'd try to get them off but you realise you have no more fight left in your body, after the days of being on the run with lack of food and water, it's finally caught up to you, and all it took was seeing your best friends body lifeless on the ground. You move a little, mumbling something about getting off of you and then you hear a whisper, "It's me, It's me."

At the sound of you boyfriends soft you, you finally let yourself fall, letting out a horrendous sound out of the back of your mouth. Rafe lets his back fall down the wall with you in his arms. You both sit the on the stone in each others arms as he rocks you back and forth.

You can't even think, a life without your best friend in it's not a life worth living.

Rafe shushes you, saying soft words into your ears. You don't even notice when the rest of the group stumbles upon you guys, you don't think you even care.

You feel pathetic as Rafe carries you back, he has to set you down to go up a large sand dune, but he doesn't let go of your hand at any point. You sit next to him as he buries a grave for JJ's body, you watch him as he lowers it into the sand, you shake as he slowly covers it back up with sand.

You sit with your back to his front as you sit before the fire. You have cried all your tears, your eyes feel dry and body feels weak, as Rafe supports your body. Your eyes get heavy as Rafe whispers to you, "you'll be alright, I promise."

You don't believe him, you think he's lying, but it was nice to hear anyways.

Likes and Reblogs are appreciated

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 100 (Conrad Puts a Ring on It!)

A fresh fluttering of snowflakes coated the stones beneath Heather's feet. Gord's paws left prints in the cold white powder as they climbed the small hill from Dachshund's Creek back to their home on Sable Square. She spotted the police detail who'd hovered in the neighbourhood since the body turned up at the docks, but she wouldn't let their presence dampen her spirit tonight.

The air was peaceful, with families gathered indoors to celebrate the night before Winterfest. Gord shook off crystals from his long fur, and Heather kicked the snow from her boots before heading back inside.

The house was peaceful, too, and she took off her outdoor gear to head back upstairs. She found Conrad perfecting the decorations on the tree. "Are they both asleep?"

"Lavender's out at least until she's hungry again, and Ash knows the sooner he goes to sleep the sooner he can open more presents." Conrad chuckled. "But I doubt he's actually sleeping."

"Thanks for getting them both down. I thought maybe we could watch Devin Villareal's new movie, Winterfest to the Rafters, on Simflix. At least until I fall asleep on the sofa... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"We can watch whatever you want," he said. " But I want to say something first."

He dropped to one knee, opening the ring box in his hand. "Oh my Watcher! Conrad!" Heather tried to keep her excited voice low, afraid to wake the kids.

"The night I asked you to marry me was a whirlwind. I meant everything I said, but I didn't plan it right, and we've been through enough together that I should have. We're probably not going to do everything traditionally, but my dad told me 'a ring says you're ready for forever.' And I should've done this the night I asked because I've been ready for forever with you from our first date in the city. I'm ready for forever with all of us."

Heather was practically speechless as she tried on the gorgeous rose gold diamond ring. "It's beautiful, Conrad. But you know I didn't need a ring for me to trust your commitment to us. No matter what we go through, you show us every day."

"Tell me we'll spend the rest of our lives living up to the promise of that ring, and that's all I'll ever need."

"I promise." She pulled him in for a kiss, the ring adding weight to her hand as she wrapped her arms around his back. The ring felt new and she'd have to get used to it, but the real weight of the ring wasn't in ounces and carats. Like Conrad said, it meant forever. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Can I come out now?" Ash's muffled voice behind his bedroom door interrupted their embrace, and he raced out to see the ring. "Do you like it, mommy? I said you would!"

Heather laughed. "You were right. I really love it!"

Ash turned to Conrad with an excited grin, reaching up his arms for a hug. "I told you she'd love it!"

"You're the smartest kid I know, buddy. I never doubted you."

"Can I stay up and watch a Winterfest movie with you tonight?"

Heather shook her head. "What happened to going to sleep so you can wake up to open presents sooner? You don't want to be tired tomorrow. After we have breakfast we're going to Henford, and I have it on good authority Father Clement has your grandparents' house on his route, too."

"But I'm too excited to sleep!"

Behind the door to Lavender's room, they heard her stirring. She never woke in a bad mood, but she babbled for help from her crib. Heather turned to Conrad with a smile. "She's hungry, I'll feed her."

"And I'll help Ash count z's 'til he's asleep," said Conrad, shuffling him back to bed while Heather entered her daughter's room. Lavender nursed quietly, staring at the bright lights on the tree with keen interest. The quiet moment gave Heather time to stare at her ring as she stroked her daughter's hair.

It took effort to get Lavender back to sleep. She could probably sense the excitement, and as a wiggly infant she always wanted to be where the action was.

But Lavender was so good. Sweet and happy. Maybe that's just how Conrad made babies. They'd have to have another for Heather to know for sure... She pulled herself back from her meandering thoughts. She worked too much, and he was climbing the ranks at the station. Ash and Lavender needed all their free time.

And then, of course, there was Ximena, wherever she was tonight.

She entered Ash's room to find him passed out above the covers. Conrad sat up next to him, with Queen Cupcake sleeping soundly at his feet. He stifled a yawn, smiling when she came in.

"He was reading The Giving Tree to me this time, but he didn't even make it to the part where the boy grows up and builds the house."

Heather smiled. "We've all had a big day," she said, tucking her son under the covers. "Are you still up for a movie?"

"Of course. Winterfest to the Rafters it is."

They got up to head downstairs to the family room, but Ash spoke up from his bed before they closed the door behind them.

"Good night mommy. Good night Conrad. Happy Winterfest Eve!"

Heather would never admit it to her son for fear of setting the wrong example, but by some stroke of wonderful fate, her decision to hack Landgraab Systems had brought Conrad into their lives.

It felt like the best decision she'd ever made. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Thank you @changingplumbob for brainstorming Devin's new Winterfest movie for this lil' cross/mention when I sprang the idea on you literally yesterday! 🙏

WCIF Poses and Rings? From Proposing Poses by Atashi77. The Soloriya ring box accessory is also available for download from the linked Patreon page for the creator, in case you have some sims getting engaged soon!

BUT I downloaded a different cc ring box to get Heather's actual engagement ring, which she never takes off. This functional wedding ring by Maru is really nice, and I know there are feelings about CurseForge but this is where I found it! It's so persistent (as advertised!) Heather even wears it over gloves, which I hate, but not enough to change it up or remove her gloves in freezing Brindleton Bay. Winter will end eventually!

I also used a pose to get Ash 'asleep' on the same bed with Conrad relaxing (and Queen Cupcake just showed up at Conrad's feet like she knew I wanted the most perfectly blissful action shot of all time and promptly fell asleep against his warm feet. Thank you Queen!!!). The pose itself is from Akiyumi's Child with a Fever poses, which are excellent. Ash is fine of course. He just looks like he fell asleep above the covers, which is all I wanted!

[cy-cyborg]

Hi, I was wondering what sort of leg prosthetic would work well in a fight? I'm designing a magical girl OC with a prosthetic leg and want to incorporate a rather more pink and sparkly one into her magical girl form. I know you can get blades for running, but would those be better than a normal prosthetic for running and leaping around while bonking monsters with a magic stick?

Hey there, I think I remember seeing your question on my old account right? I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you!

So a blade probably wouldn't be ideal, but a hybrid might.

Blade prosthetics are very good for running, but are absolutely terrible for literally everything else, including standing or walking. Essentially, blade prosthetics are modeled off of digitigrade legs. For the non-furries on my page, digitigrade legs are what cats and dogs have on their back legs where it bends at the knee, then bends back the other way at a second joint before their feet.

[ID 1: A pair of black running blade prosthetics with yellow edges. Their wearer is out of frame but we can see they are running along a track. /end ID] [ID 2: A photo of a cheetah from the side. In the photo we can clearly see the structure of its legs, as described above. /End ID]

This is actually their ankle, and their "foot" is their toes. This arrangement makes these animals really fast and nimble, but it comes at the cost of lower balance. That's not an issue when you have another two legs to help keep you steady, but when you put that onto a human we start having issues. This is why if you watch any races where the competitors are using these prosthetics, they almost always fall over, especially the double leg amputees. Essentially, the shape and springiness of a blade gives you a massive speed advantage (so much so that amputee runner Oscar Pistorius had to be given disadvantages in order to compete in the Olympics with able-bodied runners) but it essentially moves the ankle joint and heel - the one our brains automatically know to weight bare through - up off the ground. The closest an able bodied person could get to the feeling of running on a blade would be to wear a pair of stilleto heels with the heal removed, and a spring on the bottom.

Hybrid feet though are a combination of blade feet and the regular feet amputees usually get. They are like tiny blades, but they usually have a foot-shell on the outside so you don't see it. These hybrid feet give you some of the extra padding and suspension you'd get from a running blade (which makes running/jumping etc more comfortable) as well as a bit of a speed boost, though not as much as the big ones, and they don't come at the cost of your balance, which you'r character will need when fighting.

Ossur's Flex foot range are a good one to look at for refeance, I used them when I was doing martial arts, as do a few friends of mine who are still doing it. This is a link to their website, it's got pictures of what they look like both internally and when people are using them, and I beleive theirs a booklet you can download on the page as well if you want to read into them a bit more. This isn't the only one of course, but it's the one I've used before:

I'm planning to do a breakdown in a little bit more detail about the different types of prosthetic feet and what they're good for eventually, but for what you described, I think this is what would work best.

[luchitohamilton]

lewis being interview by margot laffite for canal+ at the qatar gp '23

I act like a kid all the time. I’m not embarrassed about it; I love having fun. So that’s why, you know, I’m always skydiving, surfing or I’m skiing or I’m riding my bike or whatever might be, that’s me being a kid. And that’s something I refuse to ever let go.

transcript below :-)

So Lewis. I don't want today to talk about the World champion, the Formula 1 driver, I would like to talk about Lewis Carl Davidson Hamilton, if you don’t mind. Can you describe the kind of kid you were at home and at school? What kind of kid were you?

[Smiling] Did you ever had a show called Dennis the Menace?

Oh yes of course.

You did?

Of that kind, yeah. Denis la Malice.

I was like Dennis the Menace 2.0. [laughs] I was climbing trees, I was just always riding my bike down the fastest hill. Naturally super competitive in everything that I did and, uhm, my dad helped me concentrate that energy into racing and that’s where stability came.

We know you were a huge fan of Ayrton Senna, but did you watch like every single F1 race, documentaries about F1?

No, when I was a kid I only watched documentaries on Ayrton Senna, read his books. Anything to do with Ayrton I would have it, whether it was a coffee mug or, not that I drink coffee as a kid, but I was watching Gran Prix from like since I was like 4 with my dad on the weekends. Yeah, Sunday sitting with my dad watching races was one of the best times, I remember.

If you could go back in time, where and when would it be?

It would probably be when I was living with my mum, before I was 8, so, yeah.

You are running the world so, how difficult is it to build friendships?

Yeah, it’s definitely not the easiest I would say. My two closest friends are from school, yeah, they are my brothers. Places where I’ve found good friendships are obviously on my job, and then when I’m doing music, when I’m working with musicians, it’s just like a different realm and there I’ve built some incredible relationships also.

What does being a grown up mean to you? Is it like tiresome to be more conscious of the impact you have on things and people, rather than the pleasant innocence of being a child?

I act like a kid all the time. I’m not embarrassed about it; I love having fun. So that’s why, you know, I’m always skydiving, surfing or I’m skiing or I’m riding my bike or whatever might be, that’s me being a kid. And that’s something I refuse to ever let go.

When you play a game with some children, maybe your family, nieces and nephews, do you let them win?

No, I try to win! I just [laughs] and they are good, they are getting good, so I have to get my wins while I can. But, my dad never let me win anything when I was a kid. I think is good to learn how to lose anyways, so [laughs]

Are you always on time or sometimes you’re late?

No, I’m always late. The only time I’m ever on time is when I’m getting in the car to race. But like if I’m going for a flight, I’m always late. I don’t know, I like the limit, yeah. [jokingly] I like getting there around the limit, I like the rush.

What are your thoughts and feelings about Max Verstappen? The man he is, the kind of champion.

He’s done an exceptional job. I think the team has done an amazing job. Collectively they truly deserve the success. Max has been faultless this year, he’s not made any mistakes. I only hope that there’s a time when I’ll be able to put up a fight for him.

When you quit F1 would you still want race like Dakar or the 24 Hours of Le Mans?

I currently don't really have any, like, zero, like, feelings to do those things. I love motorbikes, I’ve always loved Moto GP, still love it today. I have 2 super bikes. I think I probably always just gonna take my bikes out. I won’t compete professionally in anything ever again. It takes 10,000 hours to be, you know, a master of something else. I wanna spend that 10,000 hours on being the best dad or something like that, you know, or running my businesses in the best way I can. Where all my energy and focus will go to. For now, I’ll continue to skydive, I’ll continue to surf, those are probably the, riding the bikes, surfing and skydiving, those are the 3 fun things that I’ll make sure I always do.

Merci Beaucoup, Lewis.

Merci.

It was a pleasure as always. Thank you.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @janetm74

From @janetm74 to @the-original-sineater

Dodecuplet: 12 musical notes performed in the time of the same value.

Or: 12 Christmas Eves over the years.

With much help from @mariashades

Prompts: 1) SCIENCE!! 2) Holiday in the Tropics  3)Odd family food traditions.  

One:  Scotland

Lucille Charlotte Evans met Amelia Candice Barclay on a wet and windy day in late August on the steps of a large house in St Andrews.

It was an inauspicious meeting. Lucille – Lucy to her friends – had just climbed out of a taxi and was about to drag her suitcase up the stairs when a gust of wind blew it out of her hands and she suddenly found herself racing down the hill after it.

Amelia happened to be the one who stopped it, or rather, was sent flying by it, and the two women, both strangers to Scotland, found themselves seated together in St Andrews Community Hospital Minor Injuries Unit while waiting for Amelia’s ankle to be x-rayed.

It turned out to be only badly sprained and a very guilty Lucy offered to take Amelia back to her home only to find out they were neighbours, sharing the same student accommodation only on different floors.

They quickly became firm friends by the end of the day, fuelled on the rather unusual local delicacy of deep-fried pizza, chips and cheap red wine.

Lucy was studying Astrophysics and Computer Science. Amelia was studying Economics and Social Anthropology. None of their classes overlapped but they had sections of time that did, and they often sat together in the University library or camped out in one of the museums in an out-of-the-way corner.

That first Christmas they both should have spent with their respective families but heavy snow grounded airflight and so they holed up in Amelia’s room and ate the only food they could scrounge up on Christmas Eve – haggis, neeps and tatties with  a dessert called cranachan and good whisky.

It was the weirdest feast both women had ever eaten. And the beginnings of a tradition they both tried hard to keep while in Uni together – Christmas Eve was always holed up in one of their rooms with their Scottish feast.

Two: Kansas

Ruth bustled around the farmhouse, singing at the top of her voice. The radio was blasting the top 100 tunes from the 80s and she was bopping as she plated food and wrapped them ready for the party.

‘Grant, hun, do you want a drink?’

‘Thanks, Ruthie, that would be lovely.’

She took out a bottle of root beer and watched with a fond smile as he turned the ribs in the smoker. No one cooked meat like her husband did, and while his Kansas BBQ beef was legend locally, so good that even Miss Ella had said she’d buy any leftovers off him – there were never any leftovers with her husband and son – but what Grant was really famous for was his Sweet Southern Slow-Cooker Ham.

Giving him a quick squeeze from behind Ruth returned to the kitchen to finish prepping all the cold foods they would need. It might be winter and cold here in Kansas but their Christmas wouldn’t be complete without the mounds of potato salad, coleslaw, soul food macaroni and pickles to go with the ham and burnt ends.. They’d never really been a turkey kind of family, reserving that bird exclusively to Thanksgiving.

Once Ruth had wrapped all the sides and packed them away she set about cleaning the house from top to bottom. A spick and span house she could do, cooking not so much, not unless you liked burnt as a flavour and a texture.

The day passed on and as it did so did the excitement in the household. Jeff was coming home today from NASA and he was bringing his best friends Lee Taylor and the Caseys. They hadn’t seen Jeff since the spring and as the sun began to go down the sound of a truck in the driveway heralded their guests.

Christmas Eve had become the traditional day they ate their meal and had done ever since the day they had married, with Ruth’s commitments at the local clinic they had always put other families ahead of their own, letting the workers have Christmas Day instead. Jeff had grown up knowing no different and loved having their celebrations a day early.

Arms snaked around her waist as Ruth put the kettle on and a head rested on her shoulder.

‘Ma, I swear you get younger every year.’

‘Flattery will not get you out of the dishes, Jefferson.’

‘Mmm, I’ll happily wash the dishes if Pa’s made his Ham and Burnt Ends.’

‘Stop asking stupid questions and take the coffees through.’

Jeff laughed and took the tray his Mom indicated.

Three: Kent

Lucy and Amelia’s friendship lasted long past University. It lasted the distance of the Atlantic Ocean.

NASA had snapped up Lucy once they’d seen her dissertation but despite the distance they chatted regularly and met up at least once a year, and always on Christmas Eve.

This year was going to be different.

This year Amelia had married.

It Amelia’s turn to host Christmas Eve dinner, and Lucy had brought her fiancé. They hadn’t been going out long but from the chats the two women were having Amelia knew this was the one.

She was eager to see her best friend again and hopeful that Lucy would get on with her husband. She’d laughed a good solid 10 minutes when she’d found out that Hugh was actually Lord Hugh Creighton-Ward, 11th Earl of Kent and that plain old Amelia Candice Barclay was to become Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward.

Speaking of her husband, she put down the spoon she was using to mix the swede and carrot mash and went to find him. It came as no surprise that he was holed up in his office – that Stanley the butler insisted on calling his ‘study’ – even on Christmas Eve. Her husband’s work for the Home Office didn’t stop just because it was an international holiday.

Knocking, she waited for his call before entering, and Amelia broke out into a grin at Hugh’s rueful face.

‘You caught me, Me!’

‘I did, Hugh. Are you done? Our guests should be arriving shortly.’

‘And you want me front and centre. Understood.’

‘I want you to be your usual witty self, my love.’

Hugh laughed and put his file back away in his safe before following his wife out to the kitchen. He pulled up a seat at the table and watched his wife putting the final touches to the meal they would shortly be serving.

He couldn’t believe this beautiful, amazing woman had agreed to marry him. He was ten years older, in a stodgy job and a member of the elite British aristocracy. The day his chauffeur accidently crushed her bike while parking was the day his life had changed. She’d been like a spitfire, giving first Grandy and, when she found out he was ‘just the chauffeur’ Amelia had turned to him and given him such a mouthful.

No one had ever spoken to him like that and by the time the lecture had finished he was smitten. They were engaged by the end of the month. Amelia had been a breath of fresh air to the estate. For a start off she worked closely with the staff to bring them more in line with the 21st Century and after some sweeping changes life had settled into a new routine.

Amelia loved to cook and Hugh had suddenly found that he loved to be in the kitchen, a place he’d never really frequented even as a boy. He loved watching her at work. She danced and sang unreservedly and created magic. He’d never eaten such food, and some of their meals had a distinctly Scottish flair on certain days, and his introduction to the national dish of haggis had been…interesting.

Now he was being inducted into another of Amelia’s traditions, the Scottish Feast on Christmas Eve. Amelia’s best friend Lucille was coming over from America with her partner Jeff. He’d met Lucy a couple of times but he knew Jeff by reputation.

Jefferson Tracy, first man on Mars. Everyone knew him. And now Hugh was about to have the man stay at the house with him. It didn’t faze him, he’d hobnobbed with the cream of British aristocracy and foreign diplomats, he was sure he could handle a hot-shot American.

They were going to eat relatively quickly after they arrived, it was late already and just as Amelia placed the last prepared dish into the aga a knock sounded on the door. She grinned at Hugh, grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her as they made their way to the door.

Opening it the two women may have squealed – not that either were going to admit that – and the two men shook hands before Jeff pressed a bottle of Pappy Van Winkles Family Reserve. Impressed at the gift, Hugh stood aside and allowed them entry.

‘Good evening. Hugh Creighton-Ward. Please call me Hugh.’

‘Jefferson Tracy. Please call me Jeff. Thanks for invitin’ us.’

‘My pleasure. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

‘Lucy has been talking about nothing else for weeks.’

They settled into the kitchen rather than the dining room and Amelia passed around the hot toddies she’d prepared.

By the time dinner was over both men were firm friends and a new tradition had been created, with the invitation for the Creighton-Wards to come to Kansas next year.

Four: Dibrugarh

This Christmas Eve was going to be different.

Jeff, Lucy and their four children were off to Dibrugarh in India. Hugh, Amelia and their daughter Penelope had moved out early in the year ostentatiously to take on a job overseeing a tea plantation. The heat wasn’t really agreeing with Penny, but the ten-year-old was being a trooper.

The plane ride was long but enjoyable. They had flown from Kansas to Chicago and spent the day in the Windy City before sleeping overnight and taking the longest flight the boys had ever been on, 14 hours from Chicago to Delhi. With any other children it would probably have been difficult, but all boys had grown up flying, Scott starting at two months old. From Delhi to Dibrugarh, the last stretch being a little over three hours.

Hugh met them at the airport and drove them to a large villa on the outskirts of the town. It was obviously a new build but it was light and spacious and airy, just right for the temperature.

Drinks called Sherberts were given out and rather than collapsing in a tired heap Jeff and Lucy watched in amusement when the boys got a second wind, following Penny out and exploring while it was the adults who collapsed in a heap.

‘God, Hugh, I thought it would be hot in India!’

‘Not at this time of year.’

They laughed over drinks and chatted while the children ran in and out the rooms, even Penny coming out of her shell to join the boys in a game of tag.

Christmas Eve this year was not the Scottish Feast but an Indian one in the style of a Thali. Bhaat (steamed rice), Dal, Bhendir Sarosi (okra in mustard sauce), Lau Tenga (bottle gourd), Aloo Pitika (potatoes), Xaak Bhaji and the sides Kharoli – a papaya chutney and Assamese pickle, all washed down with a drink called Khar.

None of the Tracys were expecting a mild but highly spiced vegetarian meal, but they all enjoyed what was put before them, the boys in particular loving the open nature of the food and that they not only could help themselves from the central tray but that they could eat with their fingers. The meal was finished off with a selection of Indian sweets and glasses of Mango Lassi.

Scott declared that Indian sweets were almost as good as apple pie to the laughter of all. Lucy spent time with Amelia and the two woman who had helped cook the feast, taking notes and looking forward making some of these dishes once she’d returned home.

The evening ended with presents as usual and a happy puppy pile of Tracys and Creighton-Wards wrapped up tightly in blankets as fireworks lit up the sky.

Five: Fiji

Lucy rubbed her bump. She was getting big and pretty soon she’d have to stop flying. This was going to be their last holiday before baby number five was born.

Their Christmas vacation place this year held a double purpose. Not only were they holidaying in the tropics to give Lucy and John some much needed summer sun after both had been hospitalised with severe pneumonia, but they were here for a surprise Christmas present.

Jeff had been so secretive, the only indication of what he’d been up to was the location. Lucy looked out the window of their private jet as Jeff brought them into land. The ocean was so clear and sparkling!

Fiji was hot in comparison to Kansas, and for that first day Lucy just rested on the beach and baked. And boy did she feel better that evening! John too had some colour to his cheeks and Jeff relaxed a little, seeing that he’d made a good choice.

They had three days before the Creighton-Wards would join them. There was sadness at the thought. Penny had returned to England after a year in India, citing the weather as a reason, although Jeff and Lucy had their suspicions as to the real reason, but they would never ask and put their relationship under strain. It would be the first time Hugh and Amelia had seen their daughter for two years.

The boys understood to give the family room, and after an afternoon spent swimming and exploring the beach they returned to the villa to find the Creighton-Ward’s in their own puppy pile, evidence of tears long dried on all faces.

That evening they rested and just reorientated themselves around each other after missing last year.

Christmas Eve began with more swimming and sun lounging, with a thirteen-year-old Scott trying out some waterskiing for the first time. Lunch was going to be their Lovo Feast. Plates of Kokoda, Palisami, Fish Lolo and Vakalolo for dessert.

The food was some of the strangest they had ever eaten. Gordon’s face when he saw the raw fish made everyone laugh. But soon they had eaten their fill and rested and then Jeff was chivvying them all to the airport for his surprise.

The jet had been refuelled and was ready for them all but Jeff refused to say where they were going. He banned everyone from the cockpit…and that was when the Tracy family realised that the windows had been blacked out.

They had no way of knowing where Jeff was flying them…

It wasn’t too long a journey and they had soon landed. Jeff let them out and held Lucy close as she looked at where they were.

It was an island. Behind them a mountain rose up, in front and below them was a cove and a small patch of sandy beach. There was a gasp from every individual as they stepped off the plane onto the tiny runway. Her husband pulled her close and kissed her head.

‘Jeff?’

‘Do you like it?’

‘Like it…? What have you done?’

‘Done? Why, I’ve bought us an island to holiday on and eventually retire to.’

‘Oh.’

‘Oh? Is that all you can say?’

Lucy turned in his arms and kissed him soundly to the whistles and catcalls of their boys.

‘Was that enough words?’

‘Yes. Boys, Hugh, Amelia, Penny – welcome to Tracy Island.

Six: Kansas

This year Christmas was cancelled.

Scott tried his hardest but no one had the heart for it. With Alan still only a baby really at 21 months old there didn’t seem a point as he wouldn’t miss Christmas if they didn’t do it, and none of his other brothers had been able to muster up enough…drive, desire, want – Scott didn’t know what to call it – to do anything this year. And he couldn’t blame them.

They were never going to be whole again.

Seven: New York

It had been a battle Scott had lost despite fighting bitterly.

Jeff had sunk himself into Tracy Industries since their Mom and Grandpa’s death and the business had gone from strength to strength. And then earlier in the spring Jeff had hit a milestone, opening his headquarters in a new skyscraper in New York of all places as the first of many in an empire that was now beginning to go global.

This year had also seen changes at home, with both Scott and John leaving for their respective colleges and Gordon beginning to become a serious contender with his swimming. The Squid was going to go places – namely the Olympics – and he’d been pestering his Dad to let him attend a residential school that catered for Olympic hopefuls.

This Christmas Jeff had put his foot down. It was the first one since his boys had left and he was going to make the most of it.

Unfortunately, ‘make the most of it’ meant that instead of celebrating in a relaxed atmosphere at home they were all dressed up – suited and booted – and at Tracy Tower for the staff Christmas Party.

Scott had had words about dragging his brothers here, how it was unfair of Jeff to schedule the party on today of all days, but Jeff had held firm and dismissed him with a wave of his hand and the cutting remark that Scott didn’t know what he was talking about.

They had stopped talking for the last two days, but Scott was determined to give his brothers the best Christmas ever and had taken them all to Central Park that day and spoiled them rotten.

The staff party itself was actually fine, and Scott began to relax as it became clear that this was not one of his Dad’s networking meetings. A small band was playing Christmas pop tunes and people were dancing.

The food was…well, the food was delicious but there just wasn’t enough of it. Aware enough that if he ate as much as his stomach was telling him he needed to he’d probably get into trouble, Scott nibbled sadly as he wandered the room and looked out for his brothers.

John had brought a book and had curled up in a chair in the corner, resolutely ignoring all attempts at conversation. Virgil was currently under one of the tables, his sketch book out and another page being filled with whatever took the artist’s eye. Gordon was on his best behaviour, their dad making it absolutely clear that any discussion about him leaving home depended on his ability to show he was mature enough for it. And little Alan was with John, sitting under his chair and playing with the build-a-rocket kit that Scott had bought him earlier that day.

A hand on his shoulder had him freeze until a familiar voice sounded in his ear. Grinning, he turned and took in the sight of Penny, dressed in a…a…well, in a pink dress. Scott had no fashion sense; he had no idea what she was wearing.

But she looked stunning.

He took her hand and kissed it before offering her the floor, and at her slight nod Scott swept her up in a dance.

Maybe today wasn’t going to be a total loss after all…

Later that night the three eldest and Penny lay sprawled over the couch munching pizza and drinking pop as their fathers chatted over whisky in the kitchen. If Scott had his arm around Penny and if Penny was snuggling into his embrace well no one was going to mention it.

Eight: London

Penny hopped from foot to foot, much to Parker’s amusement. And he hoped that this Christmas would be a turning point for his ward.

They had buried Lady Amelia Creighton-Ward that spring and it had hit her daughter harder than expected. After spending so long apart, the news that her parents were moving back to England had filled Penny with hope for the opportunity to get to know them all over again, but they’d barely been back when her mother got sick.

The family that Penny was expecting had been instrumental in helping her through, and in particular the eldest, who would be arriving before everyone else since he was currently based in Germany.

She’d be lying if the thought of having Scott to herself hadn’t sparked something in her heart. Ever since that Christmas in Fiji they had been getting closer, and Scott had been calling her regularly since her mum…yeah, he knew how she felt, what she was going through. They would talk for what felt like hours even though each call was only around 30 minutes.

And there he was!

A head higher than everyone else, Scott strode confidently across the airport, looking for Penny. A shift in the crowd drew his attention, and Scott grinned as he saw Penny standing there, oblivious to the way the crowds parted for her – assisted in no small part from the grim expression on her guardian, Parker. He saw the moment she saw him, her smile lighting up the atmosphere.

Scott quickened up and, dropping his duffle at her feet, he caught her about the waist and swung her up and around, cherishing her laughter as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

They were staying in what Penny had called ‘the town house’. That term had not prepared Scott for the four-story house in the heart of Knightsbridge. Parker took Scott’s bag to his room and made his way to the kitchen where he prepared tea as slowly as he could. His Lady needed Scott right now.

He found them in the front drawing room, seated on the sofa. Scott was holding a sobbing Penny and he offered Parker a small smile as he tightened his hold. Parker sat the tray down and made a tactful withdrawal.

The next morning Parker drove them to the airport to pick up the rest of the Tracy family. He watched his ward and the boy through the mirror. She was looking brighter, and something loosened in his heart.

Parker watched as the boys gave his lady hugs and surrounded the pair before they swarmed through the airport to the car. They filled the space with a comfortable noise, both in the car and in the house, and they helped Penny relaxed even more.

Lil had made a light lunch so that the dinner could be the Christmas Eve feast Lord Hugh had asked her to prepare. After lunch Parker had taken Jeff to go and collect Hugh from his office and the rest settled down to watch some Christmas movies.

Scott and Penny were on one sofa, with Alan sitting on his brother’s lap and leaning back against him. John was sitting on the floor between Penny and his brother while Virgil and Gordon were curled up on the other sofa. All four brothers were asleep before the movie was even halfway through, their body clocks not yet adjusted to all the time they’d spent flying, and Scott and Penny let them snooze on so that they’d be fresh for the evening.

The smells from the kitchen soon roused the boys, and there was much amusement when Scott returned from there with red ears, red cheeks and a red hand. He slid back into his seat just as their fathers arrived home. There were more hugs and some chatting and then Parker returned to announce that dinner was ready.

Lillian had been given a very specific feast to create, a mixture of the family favourites. It was one of the most eclectic dinners she’d ever put together. It shouldn’t have worked, but for some reason it did. Lil reckoned it was because of who they all were, Parker wasn’t so sure, muttering under his breath about ‘boys’ and ‘cast iron stomachs thanks to Mrs Tracy senior’.

Haggis held court with baked ham with glazed vegetables. Plates of Fish Lolo sat next to Xaak Bhaji and sides of Kharoli and steamed Bhaat and to top it all off there were several desserts.

The families didn’t quieten down at all as food was consumed. And Parker was pleased to see his master and mistress begin to smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.

Nine: Germany

Jeff sat in the chair and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before stretching as much as possible while still sitting in the ridiculously uncomfortable chair.

He must have made a sound he was unaware of as a low moan came from the bed and Jeff sat forward carefully, picking up Scott’s hand as carefully as he could, mindful of the canula and the still-healing digits.

But Scott didn’t wake fully and after he settled back to sleep Jeff sighed.

A nurse entered with a tray and set it down on the table before pulling out her pad and recording details from the machines still attached to his son.

He took a deep breath.

His son.

His son was here.

Scott was here, alive.

Scott was alive.

Jeff still couldn’t believe Scott was there, and he gently kissed his son’s hand and placed it back on the bed.

‘Mr Tracy?’

‘Uh…yes?’

‘I brought you a meal.’

‘A – a meal?’

‘It’s Christmas Eve, Mr Tracy. We don’t have much, it is a military hospital after all, but we have a little. I don’t know what you eat but I brought some ham, turkey and some vegetables. And I’m sorry but I could only get green Jello for dessert.’

‘Nurse…?’

‘Abby. Please, sir, call me Abby.’

‘Abby, I am very, very touched by this.’

‘You are more than welcome, Sir.’

He eyed the tray, not inclined in the least to try and eat anything and turned back to watching Scott. Jeff didn’t pay any more heed to the nurse, but as she left she paused in the doorway.

‘Colonel Tracy, I just want you to know that your son is in the very best of hands and we’re proud to be looking after him.’

‘Thank you, Abby. That – that means a lot.’

‘I know you don’t want to eat, but Scott needs you to be strong so please try and eat something.’

‘I – I will.’

The door closed quietly and Jeff looked at the tray again. Green Jello had been the dessert Virgil had loved the most, fighting his brothers for it, invariably being rescued by Scott snatching it out of Gordon’s hands. Scott’s was always the red one, much like Alan. Stifling a sob at the memory, Jeff picked up the Jello and ate it slowly as he watched his son’s chest rise and fall.

Ten: Argentina

It was a heavy feeling of déjà vu as Jeff sat at another bedside and held the hand of another son who he’d believed was dead, but turned out Tracys were determined people, for which Jeff thanked his Irish ancestors.

Another bed, another military hospital, another Christmas away from the rest of his boys as he tried to keep one alive.

He’d never believed that anyone could come back more injured than Scott. His eldest had been held and tortured in a supposed POW camp for three months and had his arm and leg bones broken. Many had healed incorrectly and Scott had needed multiple surgeries to reset breaks. But that had needed to wait until he was better – if the double pneumonia, sepsis and malaria didn’t kill him first.

But Gordon, in typical younger sibling energy, had outdone his eldest brother.

The hydrofoil crash had claimed the lives of all the crew, and for almost half an hour Gordon too, but the paramedics had been able to bring him back from the dead. And when Jeff had finally managed to get someone to talk to him he had found out that Gordon had broken almost every bone, including his spine.

Even as he sat stunned at the news Scott had corralled everyone he knew to try and look for a solution to get his brother walking again, refusing to believe that their Squid could lose that ability.

Brains had come up with the solution, working closely with the spinal surgeons and physios to replace the broken sections of vertebrae and nerves with a Cahelium scaffolding framework.

Gordon had had the first surgery yesterday. He was still under; the operation had taken all day and most of the night and the anaesthesia was yet to wear off. Jeff began massaging the hand he held, humming one of Lucy’s tunes as he did in an effort to both stir Gordon and comfort them both.

‘I haven’t heard you hum that tune for a long time.’

Jeff looked to the door where Scott stood, a bad in one hand and two coffees in the other. His cane was nowhere in sight and he frowned at his son. Scott half-shrugged, completely unapologetic and Jeff sighed in exasperation.

‘How is he?’

‘Same as he was before you left for coffee.’

‘Yeah…’

Scott trailed off. Being here in these circumstances…it was bringing back unwanted memories. He’d bolted a couple of times, but he was getting better at staying. Having a younger sibling who needed him was helping him cope better with the trauma he’d been through himself.

This time he’d left willingly, for coffee. And returned with more. He took something from the bag before handing it to his Dad. Jeff wasn’t surprised to see an apple Danish in Scott’s hand and one in the bag for himself.

They solemnly tapped their cups together.

‘Merry Christmas, Dad.’

‘Merry Christmas, Scott.’

‘Do…Do you think you can keep it down? How’s a Squid supposed to sleep?’

It was the first genuine smile either man had smiled for a long time.

Eleven: International Rescue

There was an air of festivities on Tracy Island the like they hadn’t had for a long time. Everyone was here, both family and friends.

International rescue had been operating for almost eight months, and in that time their reputation had gone from strength to strength. Lee Taylor, Tim and Val Casey and Jeff had been the founders, but the last four months Jeff and Lee had been training Scott, John and Virgil to take their roles in the organisation set up in honour of their Mom.

Christmas on the island was polar opposite to Kansas where they had grown up. December was quite warm – around 70°F compared to about 25°F in Kansas – and although they’d officially lived on the island for a few years now, this was the first Christmas all the Tracys, the Creighton-Wards, the Kyranos and Brains were together. Only the Caseys and Lee were missing, Tim and Val unable to get out of work at the GDF due to some top-secret test (that Scott and John absolutely did not know about, no sir, they did not know about the Zero-X at all) about to occur and Lee because he was back on Alphie, trying to persuade NASA not to destroy their beloved base.

Virgil had been acting oddly all week, and once John had come down he’d joined him, they immediately stopped whatever they were doing every time Jeff walked into the same room. He’d caught whispers about something lost, but to be honest Jeff was just revelling in having all five boys and Tanusha under the same roof for once.

Their Dad wasn’t the only one who had noticed John and Virgil’s odd behaviour. Both Scott and Gordon had, but Scott had his hands full with Alan, the eight-year-old had clung to his eldest brother like a limpet, not that Scott minded, but that meant leaving Gordon to find out what was going on…Gordon promised that he would behave but Scott knew better than to trust that kind of promise – there were many shades to “behaving” when it came to Gordon and Scott was well versed in his prankster brother’s ability to create loopholes. Both brothers would vehemently deny it, but when it came to finding loopholes in something John and Gordon were identical. Scott himself would deny that he and Gordon were the same when it came to pranks, but he’d be lying just as much as John would be…

Whatever they were trying to do also involved Virgil’s studio. The place was a strict ‘invite-only’ place, but Virgil had taken to locking the door – both when he was out of the studio and when he was inside – and had lived up to his “bear” reputation when Scott had tried to find out what they were up to. He had backed away quickly when Virgil literally growled at him.

As the week progressed the smells coming from the studio were mouthwatering, though, and as time passed more and more Scott found himself wandering past trying to work out what the two were up to.

All anyone could work out was that it was definitely *ham* that was being cooked, but why it needed such secrecy was anyone’s guess.

Christmas Eve dawned clear, bright and hot. Breakfast was a riotous affair with so many people, an eclectic mix of traditional American, English and Malay foods meaning everyone had something they enjoyed.

Dinner was due that evening, giving everyone all day for whatever activities they had planned. Games were played, films played in the background. Lunch was a spread of finger food for them to help themselves as they so wished.

Virgil and John disappeared back into the studio. Out of the kiln Virgil pulled the latest attempt at recreating Grandpa Grant’s Baked Ham. This was their fifth attempt but, as tasty as the ham was, it was missing something. Virgil sighed despondently as John’s hand landed on his shoulder and gave him s squeeze.

‘I really wanted this to be ready for tonight but – *sigh* – it won’t be.’

‘It would have been nice, I agree, but you’re really close!’

‘Not close enough, John.’

‘We can do this, Virgil! It’s just a matter of using science and all our taste and memories to work out what Grandpa’s secret ingredient was!’

‘The secret ingre….’

The klaxon drowned out whatever else was going to be said and both men legged to the lounge where the command centre had already been engaged.

‘There’s a problem with the Zero-X launch. Scott, suit up and meet me in One. John, can you return to Five and direct us from there?’

‘FAB Dad.’

‘FAB, Dad.’

‘Kyrano, you have the command centre. Thunderbirds are go!’

Later on, when Scott finally came home, dinner had been forgotten as had all thoughts of food. Once he returned to the lounge Alan all but launched himself at Scott, his other brothers following suit. The four collapsed in a huddle in the middle of the floor, with John’s holo looking on. Pretty soon they were joined by Penny and Kayo and then the older adults surrounded them.

For the second time in their lives Christmas was cancelled.

Twelve: Tracy Island – Together Again

‘What about this?’

‘No – I’ve looked in that box. What about that one?’

‘Hang on…yes! They’re in here!’

This year promised to be their best Christmas ever!

In early spring the five of them with Brains had done the impossible. They had flown to the Oort Cloud, rescued their Father and returned home. Jeff had spent the remainder of the year in a specialist rehab centre, but now he was due home.

Due home on Christmas Eve. What could be more perfect?

So Tracy Island became a hive of activity as everyone prepared for his return. Scott got busy making sure iR and TI could survive the day without them, Gordon and Alan took it upon themselves to decorate the lounge. Brains had muttered something about snow and Kayo was busy in the kitchen with her father and Parker cooking up a feast. Even Uncle Lee had been picked up from Mars earlier in the week by Alan and John.

Virgil and John took it upon themselves to spend the week perfecting Grandpa’s Baked Ham recipe in celebration of having their family all under one roof again. The villa soon filled with the delectable smell of ham.

Every day they tried a new combination in their quest. John had suggested using science to work out what they were missing.

So they started at the beginning by asking the question – AKA ‘interrogating’ Grandma.

Unfortunately Grandma knew nothing. Her husband had been protective of his recipe, not because he didn’t trust her, but because Grant knew what a terrible cook his wife was. It had been a joke that Sally could burn water for their entire married life, and she’d proved that to be the case so, so many times. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that there would come a time when he wouldn’t be around anymore…

So the two brothers formed a hypothesis and theorised that Grandpa would have used ingredients to hand, so they thought long and hard about the kinds of food flavourings they had seen around the old kitchen farmhouse.

Based on that hypothesis they gathered groups of flavourings to try as the predictions part of the scientific method.

Testing the hypothesis had been fun at first. They had mixed flavourings like some kind of kitchen wizards, testing combinations out.

Their family had appreciated most of the ham results. At first. After three days and seven hams even Gordon had begun to complain, but Scott remained oblivious to the amount of thick-cut ham sandwiches he was consuming as he worked.

Tests complete, they analysed the data and drew some conclusions. Nothing matched. They had come close a couple of times, but there was still one key ingredient they were missing, so they tried a different method.

They began searching for their Grandpa’s secret recipe.

They tore into the storage room in the basement, looking through old boxes of stuff that hadn’t been opened since they had moved here from Kansas. They had had to stop for the rest of the day when they stumbled on the one filled with pictures of their Mom and them growing up.

John picked up a heavy box to place it on top of another to make it easier to look into. He’d been down almost the entire week and so gravity wasn’t its usual problem, but the box was heavier than he had anticipated and in manoeuvring it he caught the bottom box. It was enough to make the bottom of the box he was carrying split open, spilling books all over the floor.

A particularly heavy tome flattened his toes and John yelped. Virgil abandoned his box to come and make sure his brother wasn’t too badly hurt, picking up an old tractor manual. It was for Grandpa’s old Deere, the tractor both he and a tiny Virgil had adored both – it was a giant green machine after all…

A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he flicked through the well-thumbed pages, some still with Grandpa’s oily fingerprints on. As he browsed a yellowing slip of paper full of Grandpa’s neat, careful writing slipped out from between the pages.

With slightly shaking fingers John bent to pick the page up and read it aloud:

Sweet Southern Slow-Cooker Ham

“Ingredients:

1 bone-in fully-cooked ham, about 5.5lb

1 cup apple cider vinegar

½ cup of dark brown sugar

1/3 cup of Kentucky bourbon

¼ cup of honey

¼ cup Dijon-style mustard

4+ sprigs of thyme”

Virgil smacked his forehead. Bourbon? The missing ingredient was bourbon?? He picked John up and swung him around. Both men were laughing before carefully packing the box and putting it back away and returning to the studio.

Several hours later and Virgil was bringing Two into land.

They were all there to bring their Dad home and Jeff was revelling in just being here. He still used a cane to walk around, but he was so much more than the husk of a man they had rescued ten months ago. He’d put on weight, had almost got used to gravity again and was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed with his own children, his Ma and his friends all around him.

Christmas Eve. What a special day to return home. There were so many Christmas Eves that had been special for various reasons, but today was going to be the best ever. As they arrived in the lounge to the cheering of those who had stayed behind and to the smells of food ready to be eaten.

Jeff watched as his children and his friend’s children orientated themselves around him and each other. Huh…interesting. He’d known Scott and Penny had a bit of a thing for each other before…before that time, but now to see Penny sitting with Gordon he realised that ship had sailed. Instead, Scott had gravitated to Kayo, an unusual pairing to be sure, Jeff thought, seeing that they were potentially too similar in temperament, but if it worked then he’d be more than happy for both boys.

Ma, Kyrano and Parker were busy laying the table when John and Virgil brought in a covered dish. There were a few groans from Gordon and Alan which had Jeff raising his eyebrows at them and they quietened down.

The ham was uncovered with a flourish once everyone was seated and ready to help themselves. Scott, recognising the smell of Grandpa’s secret Baked Ham, insisted that Jeff have the first slice and that everyone wait until their Dad and friend had pronounced judgement.

The smell hit Jeff like a thunderbolt. He’d not smelt this particular aroma for…wow, was it really almost twenty years since they had lost Lucy and his Pa? Water welled but didn’t fall from his eyes as Jeff fought to keep his composure.

And then he tastes it.

Tears fell as memories of home, of being a child growing up on the farm, of that first Christmas he’d introduced Lucy to his parents, of the time a two-year-old Scott had managed to pull the tablecloth off the table and was busy hoovering up the food that had fallen, heedless of the adults’ cries of panic over the broken glass and China.

That first time Hugh, Amelia and Penny had come over for Christmas and then Kyrano and Kayo had joined them…and Brains too vied with thoughts of the dried astronaut food he’d sustained himself on when alone out there in the Oort Cloud.

All these memories rushed upon him and Jeff suddenly realised he’d dropped his fork and was just sitting there staring into space, his family looking on with worried faces.

Jeff cleared his throat and wiped his eyes.

‘Thank you. Thank you all. This is without doubt the best Christmas Eve I have had in a very, very long time.’

[kifkay]

a midnight run to 7/11: Winx edition

Aisha: sneaks the girls out of Alfea and helps them climb over the fence. entices the group into making 3728292 detours (originally, they went to buy a tub of ice cream and cokes) to prolong the adventure. falls asleep first and has to be carried back.

Bloom: to everyone’s surprise and despite her mother hen reputation, she is being really chill. gets kinda horny midway but Sky doesn’t want to make out. otherwise, just hangs out.

Musa and Stella: are really excited at the prospect of being out past curfew. they try to get involved in as many shenanigans as they can, including but not limited to: sneaking shopping carts out of the mall and having a hill race. call others “boring” for not joining, but eventually get into an argument and don’t talk the rest of the night.

Riven, Nabu and Helia: get into a really profound and deep conversation in fantasy Denny’s parking lot at 2 AM, while the rest of the group waits for them inside to start their meal. (they make their friends wait another thirty minutes)

Flora: “pspspspspps”’s at every stray she sees; the group has to beg her to leave them alone. weirdly knowledgeable about which establishments are open at night.

Brandon and Sky: start the night by daring each other to stupid competitions. as time drags on, get weirdly intense and serious about it. despite not being involved in their bets, somehow Riven gets his arm broken and has to spend the morning in medbay?

Tecna and Timmy: make the group check out a 24/7 gaming store they frequent. mostly hang back and talk between each other, coming up with a bajillion of inside jokes.

they get back to Alfea and Red Fountain only around 3-4 AM, by which time Codatorta had already declared them dead and missing.

[jasonsiceberglounge]

THE HILLS HAVE EYES pt. 2

warnings: general rough content, blood mention, gun mention, 18+ content (not nsfw)

1st person chap/not beta read

TLDR, there was a huge fucking bullet hole in my leg. it didn't hurt that much, granted, adrenaline coursed through my veins whilst having a nightmare, it probably coated my adrenal gland at this point.

i never quite reached the level of nimble pretty boy dick was, clearly, according to my failure to dodge this pinheads bullet. he stood almost abashedly, amazed he drew blood from a bat symbol. i doubt he actually knew i only bore the semblance of the logo to weed out the cowards, bruce wasn't necessarily happy with me brandishing it so... harmfully.

then again, since when did i care about what he thought? torturing him was my middle name.

now back to that troglodyte staring me down like i was to be consumed. he had no clue, not a single one.

the surprise on his face was almost delectable as my wounded leg came in contact with his throat, the palpable choke, the air knocked out of his throat. my spine screamed in response, almost angrily, i would throw my body into hell with him if it meant one less plague crawled amongst the streets of the innocents. the wind cracked as he replied, the click of his gun sounding once again, an all familiar sound in gotham. the bullet ricocheted closely to my ear, my hands retaliated at the threat.

you could never beat this fucking feeling, i had about approximately 3-ish minutes until my leg became a dead weight, deciding i should do something about this i snapped my good knee upwards into his pelvis, the loud groan of agony making my blood hum. with as much momentum as my dummy leg could muster, a force came down onto his kneecap, encouraging the tendon inwards. not a pretty sight, but man was it a pretty sound. tears flew out of his eyes, the scarecrow goon not anticipating my indisposition for a fair fight.

the scum actually had the audacity to roll around in pain as if he wasn't dishing out a one way vial to the depths to kids who couldn't even write. let alone imagine. he thrashed around in pain, music to my ears as he let out every insult his caveman brain could muster.

i knelt down awkwardly, my leg refusing to bend properly, the pain slowly seeping it's way back into my mind. mental, pain is mental, pain will always be mental, i whispered to my inner thoughts, praying it carried the tune through the chorus. balancing my hands on the ground near his face, i whispered towards him.

"they always say you take an eye for an eye, but i'd much rather take your ability to waddle home to mommy. see you next week? or maybe in a couple months we can do this again, maybe i'll take your sight next time."

my eye twitched as i felt something wet drench my face, my eyes took a moment to readjust back in their rightful place.

he actually fucking spat on me.

i sighed, using my shoulder strength to force myself up, my injured leg sadly hanging at an awkward angle, i probably don't look too threatening right now, but why would that matter?

cold metal graced my index finger as i put a bullet in his mouth.

"guess i won't see you next week?"

a chill raced down my spine seeing crimson leak from every orifice he was unfortunately graced with, however, something else was bothering me. sickness climbed my limbs as i felt a scrying eye piercing me, someone was watching me, someone who was graceful enough to watch me get shot.

i peered upwards, the glint of red causing my brow to raise. pain seeped higher and higher, i really needed to get out of here. a woosh threw me off, the loud thud of metal to ground.

"that can't be good for your knees."

the stranger huffed almost in amazement.

"you're one to talk, peg-leg." he gestured towards the hole gracing my thigh, blood slowly beginning to coagulate.

i snorted, spots creeping their way into my peripherals. i actually really needed to get the fuck out of here. the masked man was a lot larger than my previous assailant, actually, too damn large for a normal man. whatever normal was in gotham.

"you fight like a coward." he inched closer towards you, my eyes adjusting to his frame as he came into view.

i gestured to the corpse between my legs.

"so did he, now he's dead and i'm not." my legs began to shake, the blood loss giving me the shivers... surely, it was the blood loss.

something about this man scared me shitless, and that was not easy to do.

he just chuckled in response, analyzing my frame for whatever devious purpose i could come up with in my head.

"need a lift?" he suggested almost as if i needed a savior, no, i were the savior. but who saves god when he needs to be?

"yeah just drop the blood covered vigilante at gotham presbyterian, you're a fuckin' genius." i scoffed, i really was not going to last much longer but i'll be damned if this freaky ass mutant snatches me up and experiments on me.

"then die." he said flatly, without a regard for my wellbeing. granted, how could i expect him to.

i relented, every fiber of my being telling me to run as far as my one leg would take me or so help me god i'll become a robot by tomorrow if he so wished it.

"you g'na experiment on me?" his head cocked, almost in amusement.

"only if you want me to, peg-leg."

mentally i battled between my options, deciding on unfortunately completing my one mission on this earth, i threw my hands up. "fine, take me to your evil lair."

he strutted towards me, amused by my reply. i noticed his footsteps strangely light, trained almost like an assassin more than a vigilante. his arm scooped under my weaker side, the cold feeling of the leather not really helping my escaping body heat at the moment. i trembled in more ways than one, my disorientation becoming apparent.

"you think you can make it on a bike?" he slowly carried me out of the alley, the feeling of his strength threatening enough to never dare me to cross him.

"do i have a choice tin can?" i shot, the pain causing every word to leave my teeth more gritted than the last.

"just shut the fuck up and try not to die before i can fix you." he pursed, almost teasingly. my eyebrow raised at the familiar tone of voice, i remember someone just as... sassy.

one very painful ride later, thankfully gotham's brisk air keeping my mind awake and painfully forced to bare the elements, we arrived at some sham shack of a place.

he slowed down the bike, parking it off into a tucked corner near the entrance. classy.

"can you walk?" he appeared questioned my ability to judge that in the first place. i felt sick, at this point i should have been buried right next to him, but something in me just always, unfortunately, had to keep kicking. my vision slowly being encased by black, before i could let out an answer i-

i woke up to a very apparent smell of antiseptic, and the weight of twenty bricks burying my leg under sand. my surroundings extremely unfamiliar.

'that mother fucker actually kidnapped me huh, never trust a man in a metal chest cage.' i whispered mentally. half-jokingly, half.

my abs tensed as i pushed my body weight up, the sight not as brutal as i expected. i was tucked into a very heavy fleece lined blanket, the pattern as plaid as countryside gets. afraid to see the sight under the strangely weighted fabric, i mustered up the courage to remove my capture bonds. i felt squeamish at the sight.

blue and black splotches kissed all sides of my thigh, hurried bandaging recently re-wrapped encased what i presumed was a ghastly sight, my leg almost looked smaller than the other. i winced at the vulnerability of my current situation.

i am in a strange tin-man's.... not house.

i glanced around, my surroundings less homely than anticipated, but more comfortable than expected. minimal furniture, one extremely old cube for a television which crackled with static once every 16 seconds. a few books of very adventurous literature strewn across the floor, pieces of clothing thrown around as if in a hurry. this place was a studio, everything visible from my central point in this house.

perfectly plotted just in case of, was he really that paranoid?! half of me doesn't necessarily blame him, the other half is horrified as to what causes him to be so god damn afraid.

this shack of an apartment was perfectly laid out to be defend-able almost like a castle. bookshelves perfectly lined under windowsills to be vaulted off of, weaponry carefully placed next to glass, sprinkled grenades like christmas ornaments because what else would anyone expect out of some threatening red vigilante?

i sighed deeply, my first real breath of the day.

'what have you got yourself into babe,' i whispered lowly.

"living another damn day, i guess. you're welcome by the way." he strolled out of the bathroom like a prideful princess.

i rolled my eyes so deeply i prayed they got stuck behind my lids.

this felt like the beginning of something sick.

[billario18]

My headcanons to Bill Newton (Hill Climb Racing/Hill Climb Racing 2)

(just wanted to share my hc to the dearest floofy driver here, also respect my opinions on him too!)

his birthyear is 1985, as i've said where the post tell about bill newton's previous age theory before, because yes, he's no longer being 30s, but the game had released when he was late 20s, so it makes sense why he can drive everything

his favorite color beside red is purple, you can see the hill climb racing 2's character skin is what you are notice about one of his alternate skin, the skin that have purple coat with black and gold text "BILL" on the cap, he was possibly find that color is much cooler as his first favorite one, pretty sure he must love their elegance and mystic in it, but it was unknown why he shave his beard off from the skin shown in-game, he presumably in the disguise if you are wondering, you know?

possibly can reborn again if he went into death, the fingersoft ornament is not broken into the shards (this is also his only talisman he received from Chairman's, aka Tony F.) he tried not to reveal their facts (even i've asked him once 😭) all he can say "it's my well-protection thing" and nothing else

in the official, it's currently unknown what his body shape actually is (even their hint is few, not so much about the fact) my headcanon for his bod' is big muscular dad-bod, that's it

bill newton from hill climb racing 1 form, and his modern form (hill climb racing 2) is possibly the same person, it's just old him wearing modern him's face and body (according one of my dreams where he get mentioned and appeared)

he's an artist, yup, having a cool and cartoony style, too

cats and cows are consider his favorite animals

likes to wear cow onesies (and sum suggestive wears, lolz)

he loves to taking bath rather then showering, and i can say he loves taking clean care (aka hygiene)

bill is just opoosite of isaac newton "a (dumb and) ground man who breaks physics"

don't ask why i don't upload a pic of him here, that's all for today, i have better sleep now, goodnight!

posted: 11pm (+7 gmt) 14 Jan 2025

[fingerbill]

Happy Halloween 2024

[whumped-by-glitter]

Chapter 2 Part 1: Mistakes and Backtalk

⚠️CW: Slave Whump, Dehumanization, Angst, Defiant Whumpee, Mention of Minor Whump (barely). If I missed anything, let me know, please!

@3-2-whump's official rating: ‘Dasa’s gonna have a real bad time, as if he wasn’t having a bad time already’

✨️A special thanks to my Beta Readers! I couldn't write a coherent sentence, much less a story without them! @3-2-whump, @generic-whumperz, @aloafofbreadwithanxiety. If you like my work, go check theirs out!

Masterlist

⏮️ Previous

Story under the cut.

Balor gritted his teeth, watching the great, noble Corvius, his father, go out, down the dirt path, to the slave building yet again to check on that idiot slave he called Boy. His concern for those beasts was humiliating. It was as if the man cared more about those damn slaves than him.

Watching his father preen over the slave made him wish the Drar had actually died, it was sickening. ‘And so what if Boy had died? If four days without food killed him, he deserved death. It certainly wasn't his fault Drar burned through food faster than other races,’ he thought with vitriol.

 That aside, don’t even get him started on that creepy runt he called Dog, the one being taught to consume poisons. Balor did not understand his father’s fascination with that one at all. That slave had more one on one time with his dear father than Balor ever had in his 19 years alive. It was disgusting.

Though, he wasn’t that different he supposed, recalling fondly the first time he’d injured that filthy Mongrel. The sight of the slave struggling against the pain to obey Balor’s own orders not to move, the image filled him with a feeling of absolute power. Power was not something he had obtained yet, despite his privileged birth. Thus having such a complete amount of it over The Dog was intoxicating. It was a small taste of what he hunkered for.

Balor huffed back to his room to get dressed and ready for the day. He put on his usual ruffled shirt, white today, and a pair of trousers. In the mirror he swept his short sandy blonde hair to the side of his round face. After wiping his pale, blue tinged skin, a trait inherent to his race, with a wash rag he met his own cold navy-blue eyes in the mirror. He frowned, seeing how his pudge made the fabric of his shirt strain slightly. His silhouette had been a source of great displeasure lately but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He pulled on his brown, gold trimmed boots, tightening the laces. Shaking off the depression, he headed out to meet up with his father.

Not finding him in the shabby, filthy, slave house off at the side of the building, Balor went out to the fields a little trek off from the main house. He shifted his blue speckled white wings in annoyance. He hated going out this far, it wasn’t worth the massive energy to fly, but walking the path was drudgery. It was far too much work when he could normally just have a slave bring him everything he needed without ever needing to leave the mansion.

The fields were at harvesting. Theirs were mostly made up of fruit orchards. The yellow-skinned lel fruit dotted the nearest trees. Beyond the lel trees there were rows of grapes climbing up ornate walls built to support the vines.

“You miscounted your yield yesterday!” He heard his father, yell at one of the slaves. The voice came from the grape fields.

He was still too far off to hear the slave’s pathetic reply. He sure as hell heard the subsequent slap though.

“Because of you I now need to go all the way to Xonia to clear up this mess!” Corvius exclaimed, slapping the slave again.

Balor watched the older man storm up the hill towards him and the back entrance of the mansion behind him.

“What happened Father?” Balor asked, trying to keep the glee out of his voice. It was satisfying to watch his father get worked up over some dumb slave.

“Zan, the slave we were brought to train for old man Banks has been messing up his count for months,” Corvius answered with a scowl on his face as he began walking them back towards the mansion. “I now have to go all the way to Xonia to get this straightened out with the merchant there. That means you will be in charge here. Can I trust you not to kill any slaves while I’m gone?”

Balor hid an eye roll, “Of course Father, you can count on me.” He was certain these next few days were going be a drag. The thought of that amount of responsibility made him tired just thinking about it.

Corvius paused walking. “I’m trusting you to run things, you best not disappoint me.”

Balor was certain his father had read his thoughts. He could feel the intrusion. The sensation made him more annoyed. It was considered rude for Tallisians to read each other’s or even Valtens’ thoughts. It added an additional layer of insult knowing his father rarely even intruded on the slaves in this manner. “I can assure you, I won’t,” he mumbled, “You don’t have to treat me like a child, I’m 19 now.”

“If you are no longer a child, why is it you perpetually still act like one?” Balor’s father sighed and shook his head. “This is an opportunity to prove yourself, you shouldn’t look so gloom. I’m leaving Zan’s discipline to you, if you do well discipline will be yours permanently.”

This got Balor’s attention, he finally met the old man’s gaze for the first time since they started talking this morning. He studied his pale blue tinged skin and weathered features. Perhaps he was looking for a hint of approval in those stern features, in which he found none of course. His thoughts turned back to fantasizing, maybe, just maybe, these next few days wouldn’t be such a drag after all.

“You’re engaged to the Crown Princess, it’s high time you start learning leadership and responsibility instead of loafing about.”

His father continued to lecture him, but Balor was hardly paying attention anymore. Instead, his mind was fantasizing about how best to make Zan suffer.

‘I could make him count lashes…. Nah, too simple. A stress position on the frame maybe? That had nothing to do with the infraction though….Forced silence, that would be a good start, I just need to decide how, and what I want to follow that up with…’ Balor’s thoughts continued to spin, musing on the possibilities.

He'd prefer his father’s favorite, The Mutt, the one he’s lived in the shadow of his whole life. Oh, how he’d love to take full control of that dog, that useless object of his father’s attention. Zan would have to do however, at least for now.

“Mongrel!” Corvius yelled as soon as they entered the mansion. A slight echo reverberated off the polished stone of the greeting room.

The Mutt seemed to materialize from shadows, the mask of void Corvius preferred firmly plastered on its face. ‘Creepy beast, it barely counts as a living thing,’ Balor thought as the slave knelt, pressing its forehead on the floor.

“Get my bags packed for five days,” Corvius ordered, barely glancing down at it.

“Yes Master,” The Mutt replied and disappeared up the stairs.

Corvius led his son into the parlor and sat him down. “Now before I go I need to give you some instructions. First, you are not allowed to maim, kill or permanently injured Zan in any way. Second, you will be giving The Mongrel its poison doses every day.”

This further interested Balor. He loved slipping the slave some Divinity’s Downfall for the entertainment of his friends. He was owed that much from it.

“Understood Father,” Balor replied, barely containing his excitement.

“You may have friends over and do as you please, but so help me if I come back to a wreck, you will be paying for it. You need to prove to me that you can manage these slaves. Show me that you can be King, consider this practice.”

His father’s tone was serious. The younger Tallisian knew he meant what he said and shuddered to think what ‘paying for it’ would look like.

“Everything will be in perfect order when you return,” Balor tried to sound confident despite the nerves.

It wasn’t long after the two had fallen into silence when The Dog returned with the packed bags for his Master.

“Everything is there?” Corvius asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, Master,” The Mongrel bowed.

“Very well, don’t just stand there, take them to the carriage,” the Master snapped. “Oh, and Balor, I’ll be taking Ruby and Boy with me,” he added as the three of them began to walk out the front door.

Outside Balor saw that the two slaves had already been harnessed up and ready. He had been a little surprised when his father said he was taking those two, but saw now saw how similar in size the two were, Boy was growing fast.

Once he saw his father off, Balor was finally free. The first thing he wanted to do was to deal with Zan.

“Mutt, go fetch Zan,” Balor ordered.

Masterlist

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The Taglist:

@whumpsandbumps, @whumperofworlds, @skittles-the-whumpee, @wounds-seen-and-unseen, @emptycalories-splitlip

@pigeonwhumps, @i-eat-worlds, @starfields08000, @onlywhump, @snakebites-and-ink

@turvuren, @whumps-and-bumps, @paingoes, @spectral-whumpy-writer, @vampiresprite

@whumping-in-the-dark, @saffitaffi, @ichortwine

If you want to be added or taken off my taglist just let me know!

**additionally, this is a chapter set to have extra NSFW scenes. If you want the on extended edition taglist, please let me know.

[oneminutefiftysixseconds]

🌐 You can add one race to the world tour calendar (promoting an existing race or inventing a new one). What do you do?

for everyone that asked me this question i thank you and i will be answering it all at once here because i put WAY too much thought into this. way too much.

Tour Of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit

Stage 1A: Richmond Park 10km 50m elev.

we open with a 10k lap of Richmond Park -- it's the cycling hotspot of the capital, time trials are a big part of the UK domestic scene, and i like a prologue TT. and it would really piss off london cyclists when whoever wins sets a record time around the park, taking with them the leaders jersey for the first proper road stage later the same day:

Stage 1B: London -> Brighton, 150km 1,000m elev.

a meandering journey to the seaside taking in the Olympics-famous Box Hill and joining the classic London to Brighton route, the first stage winner will likely need to bide their time and hope an attack on Ditchling Beacon gets them enough of a gap to take them to the finish line.

Stage 2: Oxford -> Cambridge, 190km 700m elev.

between the two ancient university towns lies the flat and beautiful Bedfordshire. the peloton will start among the dreaming spires and the sprinters will tough it out on King's Parade, a stone's throw from the apple tree newton supposedly sat under while working on gravitation!

Stage 3: Telford -> Stoke-on-Trent, 220km 1,500m elev.

we loop into Wales for a long but relatively gentle start to the hills... the Clwydian Range might not be the Pyrenees but there are plenty significant climbs in there that indicate today is likely one for the breakaway -- or an audacious solo -- and the notorious welsh weather could lead to all sorts of surprises

Stage 4: Manchester -> Leeds, 160km, 1,800m elev.

heading first south from Manchester into the Peak District and finishing with a city circuit in Leeds, this should be another chance for a breakaway ahead of tomorrow...

Stage 5, the Queen Stage: York -> Hardknott Pass, 280km, 3,500m (!) elev.

i woke up and chose violence. giro mountain stages eat your heart out, it's time for GC action in the North York Moors, Yorkshire Dales, and the Lake District with a summit finish on Hardknott Pass (the steepest road in england, maxing out at an eye-popping 30%). Rosedale Chimney, Buttertubs Pass, and the aptly named Struggle are the key climbs before Hardknott, and the helicopter shots will be superb as the race passes through some of the UK's most beautiful landscapes, finishing within sight of Scafell Pike.

Stage 6: Carlisle -> Glasgow, 180km, 850m elevation.

a border-crossing run into two laps of the iconic 2023 city circuit, this punchy stage will likely favour whichever classics specialist can recover the best from yesterday's efforts

Stage 7: Edinburgh -> Newcastle, 195km, 1,000m elev.

starting in scotland's capital, today is the final opportunity for any GC changes, mostly rolling terrain but enough to make a difference if it's only a few seconds

Stage 8: Peterborough -> Great Yarmouth, 180km 300m elev.

and so the Tour of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit concludes with a sprint along Great Yarmouth's seafront Golden Mile, bringing to an end a hopefully exciting one-week race in this country that does actually have decent cycling, contrary to what the actual TOB might lead you to believe

[sakura1uvr]

Suprise in Seoul

fluff

A/N: Hi guys i have finally written something 😭 it has been a while but atleast i got out of writers block 🧎‍♂️ also changed my layout abit cuz i found my old one boring asf (i did use some inspo from other people i apologize if you find ours similar 🧍‍♀️)

Synopsis: Being in a long distance relationship was hard but you finally got to meet your girlfriend Haewon

Pairing: Haewon (nmixx) x f!Y/N

Warning: gay shit, reader is japanese

MEN DNI

You have been in a relationship with Haewon for a while now but you guys had no time to meet since you were in a long distance relationship. Well that was until you were moving from tokyo to seoul where Haewon was living. It had been a relentless countdown for the last few months, all the box packing taking up your time and energy. You wanted it to be a surprise for Haewon, a gift for both of you after the long hours spent video calling and counting down the days until you could finally be together again.

As you finally reached your new apartment all you could think about was Haewon. She has been so eager to finally meet up with you but she never had the time to do so because of her busy schedule as a k-pop idol.

You were a huge fan of Nmixx since their debut. Nmixx had some japanese schedules in tokyo so that's how you two met. The rest is history.

You opened your matress up from the plastic it was surrounding it and placed it in your new bedroom. It's gonna take a while to unpack everything but it will be worth it in the end. You have bought some new things before leaving your home in Tokyo so you can have atleast something to live off of till you get a job in Seoul and till everything you ordered arrives.

But your main focus is meeting your girlfriend after 1.5 years of not seeing eachother.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, you grabbed your keys and headed out. You had planned on surprising her at her place since you guys exchanged addresses incase one of you visits. You know she is a huge nerd for games so you know she is probably gaming right now.

You pace to a 7/11. One of the best convinient stores as Haewon describes them. As you buy some food for your girlfriend your phone vibrates. It was Haewon and she sent you a pic and captioned it with "Gimbap with silent hill 2 is the best 🤭"

You chuckle to yourself.

placing the food in a paper bag you head to her place.

When you arrived at her building, your heart raced. Every step felt heavier as you climbed the stairs to her apartment, each one a countdown to seeing her again. You knocked softly, half-expecting her to answer with her ever-cheerful smile.

After a moment, the door swung open, and there she stood in her comfy oversized hoodie, a hair tie keeping her tousled hair back. "What?!" She said before realizing it was you. Her eyes widened in shock before they sparkled with joy. “You’re here?!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with disbelief.

"Tada!" You chuckle as she hugs you tightly.

As you wrap your arms around her, the world around you fades away. It’s just the two of you; the years of distance evaporating in an instant. “I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she mumbles into your shoulder, her voice muffled with emotion. You can feel her smile against your skin, and it sends a warm rush through you.

“I know! I wanted it to be a surprise,” you say, pulling back just enough to see her face. Her cheeks are flushed with happiness, and those eyes you’ve missed so much glow with joy. You hand her the paper bag with the food you've gotten, watching her curiosity about what’s inside unfold.

“What did you bring?” she asks as she peeks inside, her eyes widening at the sight of her favorite snacks. Pepero, cupped tteokbokki, buldak ramen, banana milk etc.

She looks back up at you with an expression that combines disbelief and pure elation. “You’re seriously here! In Seoul! This is insane!”

You both walk into her house and she brings you into her livingroom. As you already know Haewon is an idol and that means she has money so her apartment is huge. It actually shocks you that it's this huge. You settle down on the couch as she brings you some tea. She sits next to you and begins to speak.

“So, are you officially moving here?” she asks tentatively, her excitement mixed with a hint of apprehension.

You nod, your heart fluttering a bit at the thought of finally cementing this in reality. “Yeah, I am. I’m searching for jobs, too, but… I just wanted to be here with you. It’s been too long, haven’t it?”

Haewon bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “It really has. I never thought we would make it here, you know? I was worried about you, about us, with all the touring and my schedule.”

“And I was worried too. Missing you felt like an ache that never really went away,” you admit, your voice softening. “I couldn’t bear waiting any longer.”

You share a lingering look, both of you aware that this moment marks a new chapter. No more late-night video calls, no more counting days on a calendar. Just the two of you together, in this little moment.

“Now that you're here, what do you want to do first?” she asks, and it feels like an invitation for both freedom and adventure.

“Honestly? I just want to stay here with you,” you reply, her heart throbing even harder now as her face lits up red.

You start drinking your tea and you both chatter abit. How the idol life works, fans etc.

"Well even tho we are here together nobody should know we are dating so we can't be seen outside alot. Maybe just as friends but nothing more." Haewon sighs. It's the tough idol life she has to live.

"Hey it's okay!! I understand! Aslong as i get to be with you i will never complain." You smile at her and she just looks at you. Like there were hearts in her eyes. You always understood her and that's one of the things she loved about you.

You continue sipping your tea as the conversation flows, punctuated by laughter. Well you have seen your girlfriend in alot of videos and even when you guys are texting she is super funny. Haewon shares stories from her recent schedule, Bae and Jiwoo's antics, and a few amusing encounters with fans. Each moment you spend with her on that couch reminds you just how much you missed these small details—the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, and the comfort of her presence.

“Have you thought about what job you want to look for?” she asks, curiosity bubbling in her tone.

You chuckle softly, “Honestly? I just want to find something flexible enough that will let me spend time with you. I could work in a café or something while I figure it out.”

Haewon laughs, shaking her head. “I can totally see you as the cute barista, serving my iced latte every morning. But you’d probably be too busy swooning over me, huh?” She winks.

You roll your eyes playfully, "well i thought we both knew that since i am finally here with you."

Her face brightens with pink as she gazes at you; you love that you can still make her blush after all this time. “Alright then, so would you like to play abit with me? Warning tho i am pretty skilled” she jokes, clearly eager to show you her world.

Your night is spent with playing games together (You beating Haewon and she just stands there shocked), laughter and just a nice time.

You are super glad you got to finally meet up with her.