#husband ranks the grid

[sequinsandfins]

my husband rates the 2024 drivers based on attractiveness.

disclaimer: these are all my husband's thoughts and opinions, not my own.

[cllightning81]

Best Friends [OP81]

Summary : You and Oscar are childhood best friends and maybe a little more but that's something the grid has missed

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader, Logan Sargeant x reader, F1 Grid x Reader

Warning/s: None

Word Count: 1.6 k

Masterlist

Oscar Piastri Masterlist

You and Oscar had started out as childhood best friends. You even moved to England with him because you just couldn’t be separated. As Oscar went through the different ranks of motorsport you decided to do a Sports Science degree and when Oscar got signed for Prema he made sure you were his personal trainer and you’d just follow him into his F1 career.

You and Oscar were now walking through the paddock with his arm around your shoulders. It started as a habit when he started his rookie season to calm his nerves with your warm body, and it gave you comfort at the same time. When he started his rookie season, you were still only best friends. Neither of you had confessed how you felt, but now you had yet, everyone still believed you were still only best friends. 

It hadn’t been on the top of either of your lists to correct people when they called you best friends because even though you were more than dating now, he was still your best friend. Walking into the Mclaren garage, Oscar spoke to a few mechanics. 

“Osc we’ve got to get you warmed up” You smiled, and you both walked through to his drivers room. As Oscar got changed into his fireproofs and race suit, you grabbed the equipment to get him warmed up. When you turned around, his race suit was resting on his waist before you talked him through some stretches. After Oscar warmed up, you moved out to the main garage with him. Mclaren had some guests in the garage that Zac wanted Oscar and Lando to talk to and maybe do some training in front of them.

“Let’s use the bands to stretch your arms” You smiled, handing him one of the bands, and he nodded. You grabbed your headphones, resting them around your neck. Your hands are coming up to his back a little bit for comfort and a little to correct his posture. 

“You okay?” Oscar asked, and you smiled 

“Yeah, just correcting your posture while doing this” you hummed, walking back around so you stood in front of him

“You’re gonna do great today. You’re starting in a great position, and the car is brilliant” You smiled, resting your hand on his chest. You and Oscar had always been touchy for as long as people knew you both. The only person knowing the truth about your relationship was Logan and maybe Arthur. He seemed to be good at finding out relationships between random people. Oscar took your hand, holding it in his own larger hand. 

“I’m gonna do even better because you’re wearing this thing” He whispered, running his hand over your engagement and wedding ring. 

“Well I’m fed up with watching random women flirt with my husband” you hummed, rubbing his shoulders as you walked behind him. He was stressed about today. His home race meant he wanted to do really well, and you could feel the stress in his shoulders

“Relax baby” you whispered, massaging the knots out of his shoulders and necks. Soon, Oscar was getting ready to get in the car. You smiled, standing next to him. 

Mclaren social media team had a camera recording Oscar so they could post some behind the scenes of the garage. Oscar handed you his hoodie, and you folded it up, placing it upon the pile of his clothes. Oscar pulled his race suit up and onto his shoulders, turning to you so that you could zip it up something that you’ve been doing since you first became friends all those years ago.

Handing Oscar his balaclava, he pulled it on his head and tucked his hair into it, sending you one last smile as he stepped out of frame to press a kiss to your lips. He took his helmet, placing the HANS device around his neck before pulling his helmet over his head. You secured his helmet strap and corrected the HANS device before tapping his helmet and walking over to the car with him.

“Be safe out there” You smiled, holding his hands, and he nodded 

“I’m gonna get a podium so we can continue that celebration from last time” You smiled, looking up at him. The celebration was you, Oscar, and Logan finishing the movie while you helped their aches and pains from the race, although Logan was talking about going out with a couple of other drivers depending on the outcome. 

Oscar did get on the podium, and you couldn’t have been more proud of him. Making your way out of the garage with the rest of the Mclaren team. Lando got P2, and Oscar got P3. It was the best result anyone could have asked for. You stood at the front of the barricades, and after Oscar got weighed, he walked over to the team. 

The difference between Oscar and Lando when celebrating was quite funny to watch. Lando jumped into the team's arms as he celebrated with pats on the back, shoulder, and helmet as Oscar just thanked everyone before stopping next to you and wrapping you into a hug. Your arms rested around his neck as he rested around your waist. 

He had left his helmet on the stand for it, looking into his eyes with a smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss as the cameras flashes up 

“I love you so much wife” He whispered against your lips 

“I love you too” You smiled as Lando cheered from next to you. You laughed

“Go get your trophy. I’ll be watching” You pushed Oscar away as Logan walked over 

“Movie night or drinking?” He asked, wrapping you in a side hug 

“Movie night. Well done on the points” You smiled, turning to watch the podium with him. You were so proud of him. A podium at his home race is something he’d been wanting for a long time, and he’s finally achieved it. After the podium, you walked back to the garage, collecting all of Oscar’s belongings and taking them to his drivers room. 

As Oscar did his post race interviews and debrief, you decided to stretch yourself, having sat tense watching the whole race, and there was nothing else to do while sitting waiting. Logan was sending you random tweets and tiktok videos as you sat a lot of them about the fact you and Oscar were finally together, causing you to laugh. A set of arms tackled you onto the beanbag in Oscars' drivers room as your neck was covered with kisses, causing you to giggle, knowing it was Oscar. 

“I did it! I got a podium” He cheered, and you laughed, turning your head to kiss him 

“I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you could do it. You’ll always be a winner in my heart” You smiled, and he kissed you again. 

“Come on, I want to go celebrate” He pulled you up 

“Baby you need to get changed” you giggled, pushing his helmet hair out his face 

“Okay right yeah, I’ll do that” He nodded 

“Logan keeps sending me tweets and TikToks about us revealing our relationship. They’re quite funny, to be honest” You giggled 

“Our son” He chuckled, and you nodded 

“He really acts like it sometimes. His mum messages me every so often to make sure he’s actually doing how he says he is” Oscar nodded, taking your hand 

“How does he say he is?” He asked 

“He’s struggling with the fans for obvious reasons. I’ve been told that he greatly enjoys our movie nights and they allow him to relax with people he fully trusts” Oscar nodded, kissing your head 

“Then we never stop those. Maybe we should start inviting him for dinner when we’re not racing?” He suggested 

“I think that sounds like a good idea but as your trainer I’ve got to remind you to stick to your diet plan” You giggled while jogging through the garage as he chased after you for that comment. Picking you up and spinning you around. You smiled, pressing your lips to his as he placed you back on the ground. Walking out of the paddock, Oscar had his hand rested around your waist, but you were soon stopped by a grid of drivers standing at the paddock exit with their arms crossed. 

“Hey everyone” You smiled, looking between the eighteen other drivers standing in front of you

“Hey everyone” Lando mocked, and you frowned now, very confused about what you had done wrong 

“What’s going on?” Oscar asked, also confused. Charles pointed between the two of you, and you looked up at Oscar 

“What?” You whispered, and he shrugged 

“Can someone use their words and explain what you mean?” You asked as Logan wrapped his arms around you both 

“They’ve only just realised that you’re together after your kiss” He explained, and you frowned, turning back to the crowd of people 

“Want to explain then?” Max asked 

“We’ve been married for four months. Dating for nine before that” you explained, still really confused 

“What?!” They chorused, and you looked between them all. Oscar is now holding your hand up 

“She’s been wearing these for the last three months around you lot" He exclaimed as you both laughed, turning to Logan 

“You going back to your hotel room before movie night?” You asked, and he nodded 

“If you two don’t mind waiting a little to start?” He asked, and you shook your head 

“Gives me time to cook some dinner” You smiled, walking past the rest of the grid, leaving them all standing shocked at your announcement.

Tag List

@bearryyy

@molten-m122

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

[dilemmaontwolegs]

End of the Road || LH44

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader Summary: when you and your husband both have a surprise to share you find your plans for the future clashing Warnings: 18+ only, pregnancy, angst, fluff WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist

30th November 2025

You had waited two long years for this day to come. When Lewis had told you he was extending his contract with Mercedes back in 2023 you had struggled to accept it. You could feel your body clock counting down and wanted nothing more than to start a family with Lewis but refused to have him be a part time father because of his career. You knew he was made to be a father, you had seen it in every interaction with his nieces and nephews as well as his young fans, it was just a matter of finding the right time to retire.

That day had finally come.

You woke with a smile on your face and rolled over in Lewis’ arms to see him watching you, his own smile playing at his lips.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

There was no hiding your excitement as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers tracing the tattoos that decorated his skin. “Are you excited, Lew?”

“I am,” he hummed as his large hands ran up your thighs to rest on your hips. “I actually have a surprise.”

Your smile grew and you dipped your head down to kiss him. “Me too.”

Lewis’ phone rang beside the bed and you saw Toto’s name flash up on the screen. With a groan, you climbed off your husband and went to start your morning routine before heading to the race. Soon, you told yourself, soon there would be no more early interruptions from team principles or blacked out SUVs arriving to take you to your next destination.

The paddock was electrifying and the crowds went wild for Lewis when he stepped out onto the grid for his final driver’s parade. You watched on proudly from the balcony above the Mercedes pit space with Roscoe by your side.

“I’m going to miss this,” you said as you bent down and scratched him under his chin. “You’re going to miss this too, or the extra attention at least.”

Roscoe looked up at you with sad eyes as if he could understand exactly what you were saying and you smiled. “But I promise you won’t be lonely. You’ll have some company soon enough.”

“And that is the end of the 2025 season. Sir Lewis Hamilton, the seven time world champion has officially won his long awaited eighth championship! What a career this man has had and he will be sorely missed by the teams and fans alike.”

Your throat was hoarse from all the screaming you had done in support of your husband as he crossed the finish line just ahead of Lando Norris to secure the title that had once been stolen from him. You couldn’t believe that after 18 years in Formula 1 he got to finish on a high. Nico Rosenberg was right to retire after winning his championship because it had been disheartening to watch so many other world champions fall down the rankings before losing their seats. It had been one of Lewis’ fears confessed in the late night conversations you shared on other ends of the world. 

You picked up Roscoe and pulled a custom made shirt over his head before tucking his paws in the armholes and racing down to the pit lane. The Mercedes team made space for you to reach the metal barrier just as Lewis parked his car up one last time. Standing above the halo, he threw his fists up and let the cheers saturate his being for a moment, committing it to memory before he leapt down and kissed the car. A thank you, a farewell? You wouldn’t know.

He spotted you in an instant, flipping his visor up so you could see the tears shimmering in his eyes as he made his way over. His fingers traced the lettering that decorated the car with each step, ‘still I rise’, it was his mantra and his reminder. Those were the same letters inked across his shoulders and you had kissed them that morning before he pulled his shirt on. 

Roscoe barked at his daddy’s approach and you barely kept him in your arms when Lewis reached you, pulling you both into a tight hug. His face was damp with sweat and tears when you kissed him but it didn’t register in your mind.

“I’m so proud of you!” 

“Couldn’t have done it without you, darling.” His grin split his face and you could have stayed in that moment forever, but post race interviews were calling him away. “Remember that surprise?”

You nodded and he winked as he quickly stepped away to take the microphone held out to him, his fingers slipping from yours. Lewis waved to the crowd as he stepped onto the red carpet laid out and the first question had your stomach turning.

Rumours…there had always been rumours running rife around the paddock. There were rumours long before you stepped foot in the F1 world and there would be rumours long after you stepped out. But this rumour was one you hadn’t heard about.

Your ears started thrumming with the rush of blood to your head and you stopped hearing everything after Lewis smiled. You knew that smile. That was the relieved smile after successfully keeping a secret. That was the smile you had seen when he proposed to you, the same smile he had when he flew you to Barbados for your birthday.

“Yes, it’s true,” he said as he blocked one ear from the noise the crowd made. “Things changed, the seat came up unexpectedly and I said yes. I’ll be back here next year with Mercedes.”

Roscoe squirmed in your arms as you tried to take his shirt off and you placed him at your feet before he could hurt himself or you. Your hands scrambled to hold the metal as your chest began to tighten - the plans you had made together crumbling at the news. 

“Roscoe!” 

Your cry somehow caught Lewis’ attention over the deafening atmosphere and he turned to see his furbaby sneak under the barrier and run towards him. Dropping to his knee, still clutching the mic, Lewis greeted his regular sidekick in parc ferme.

“What’s this cute outfit?” Naomi asked with a smile as she knelt down too and read the print on the shirt you hadn’t finished removing. “Big brother?”

“I…I…” Lewis was lost for words as he read the rest and looked your way in shock. “Baby Hamilton?”

A silence spread as the microphone picked up the whisper and echoed it across the entire track. The cameras turned to you and you felt them zooming in on you, capturing the moment that was meant to be full of joy but you felt nothing except betrayal. 

All eyes were on you as you nodded once, closing your eyes to hide the tears that were blurring your vision.

You didn’t hear your husband finish the interview, but you felt the moment he reached you. His presence was something you had always been attuned to and you felt the warmth of his palms before they cradled your cheek, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your lashes.

“Open your eyes for me, beautiful,” he pleaded softly and you took a deep breath before they fluttered open. Pure joy met you on the face of the man who owned your heart, a happiness that came from deep within his soul as he dropped a hand to your abdomen. “We’re having a baby?”

“Can we–can we talk about this after?” you whispered after another sure nod. His brows instantly pulled into a frown but you ignored it as you took his hand and placed it on the rail. “You have a podium to claim, champ.”

He was torn as he ran a hand over this hair that you had spent hours painstakingly braiding for him before leaving Monaco but you eased his unease with a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.”

“But not more than this sport.” His back stiffened as he turned away but it should have been impossible to hear the truth you uttered beneath your breath. 

You waited as a good wife, a patient wife, should, but you wished you were far away from all things Formula 1. You watched your husband take the centre stage and receive the fruits of his labour, the race trophy and the promise of the coveted WDC trophy at the FIA awards in a week's time. You tried to smile as he placed his palm over his chest before pointing at you, knowing that your initials and date of the wedding were forever marked upon the skin he touched. It was a message he sent for you, one of the many ways he communicated his love over the years. 

Somewhere along the way something had been lost in translation.

You paced the private room nervously while Roscoe snored loudly on the couch in the corner. Lewis should have returned to the motorhome already but he had likely been caught up in the crowds all wanting to congratulate him on his win and his impending fatherhood. A lot of the other teams had already left the paddock and the atmosphere was quickly quietening down outside the door.

The knots in your stomach tied tighter at the knock on the door and when you opened it to see Lewis’ security your palms grew sweaty. “Where’s Lew? Is he alright?”

“He’s alright, ma’am, but there’s quite a bit of activity around him so he thought we should get you back to the hotel first.”

It wasn’t the first time that the crowds had grown too large that he wanted to keep you away. Your safety was always his priority. “Okay, but who's with him?”

“FIA security have him covered.”

You nodded and grabbed Roscoe’s leash, clipping it to his collar as he slowly lifted his head and yawned. If you weren’t already stressed you would have laughed when he dropped his head back on his paws and closed his eyes. “Come on, Rosc, I can’t carry you everywhere. Work with me here.”

He seemed to sense the change in you and began to stretch, shaking his coat out before jumping off the couch and sidling up to your feet for a quick pat. “I think we are ready, Dwayne,” you confirmed as you looked around to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.Dwayne opened the door and stepped into formation with the rest of the team around you, sheltering you out of the building and along the busy paths to where the cars were parked. You had never really felt anxious when surrounded by security but it crept in as you saw just how many people were hanging around the Mercedes building. This was more attention than you were used to, this time it was aimed at you - or more accurately the child of a champion that you carried.

You had already showered and changed by the time your husband arrived at the five star hotel you would stay at for one more night. You heard the door beep as a key card was scanned before it opened and you untucked your legs from underneath you as he walked in.

Lewis looked drained as he shucked his jacket off and draped it over the coat rack with a heavy sigh. Your eyes followed him around the room to where he grabbed a chilled bottle of water and cracked it open. His steps were slow and unsure as he walked back, coming to a stop behind the couch. You listened to the quiet thud of the empty bottle being placed on the table before a hand rested either side of your body.

“Hi,” he greeted softly.

You tipped your head back into the cushion to look up at him before rolling your head to the side and kissing the wedding band on his hand. “Hi.”

“It’s been quite the day.”

His lips twitched with a smile at the scoff you made before you reached up to him. He dipped his head until your fingertips found his skin and pulled him the rest of the way down to capture his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered across your lips before pulling back and walking around the couch so he could see you properly, but he didn’t sit with you.

After a moment of watching him pace around the rug, you broke the tense silence. “You said you were going to retire.”

His eyes darted to your stomach as he ran his thumb over his lips, back and forth. “And you said you were going to wait.”

You placed your hand over the non-existent bump and sighed. “For what it is worth, I didn’t plan this - it just happened, but I thought the timing was some goddamn miracle. Until today.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“This changes everything, can’t you see that? I had a part time father who missed the big things because he wasn’t there, Lew, and I don’t want that for my child.” You wiped your eyes before you met his so he could see the hurt you felt. “You should have told me.”

“You should have told me.”

You laughed humorlessly and grabbed a pillow, cuddling it close as if it could hide the truth beneath it and pretend everything was okay. “Guess we both hate surprises.”

His pacing stopped dead in his tracks and he shook his head before he dropped to his knees at your feet and took your hand. “I don’t hate this surprise. Whatever else you think about me aside, I love that we are having a baby. You and me, darling. Our baby, like we always planned.”

“But you’ve made plans without me. What happens next year when you’re gone and I’m at home with a newborn? What if you miss her birth?”

“Her?” he asked as he looked up wide eyed.

“It’s too soon to find out,” you answered quietly. “I just have a feeling.”

He slowly pulled the pillow away from you before smiling as he ran the back of his fingers over your stomach. “I feel her too, strong like her mama.”

Something cracked in your chest as you finally felt the joy you were hoping for all afternoon. You saw the love and devotion he already had for his child, it was right there in his dark brown eyes that shimmered in the light of the chandelier.

“I’m sorry,” you choked, placing your hands over his.

“Me too” he rasped as he took the space beside you and pulled you onto his lap. His arms welcomed you home, offering warmth and security in their embrace while he pressed his lips to your forehead. “I’ll talk to Toto, darling, he’ll understand.”

7th December 2025

Lewis had attached himself to your hip and refused to leave your side until his name was called at the end of the awards. The final and most important trophy had been his goal for the past four years, its elusiveness at last coming to an end.

Pride radiated from you and everyone at the Mercedes table as your husband picked up the WDC trophy and kissed the polished metal.

“There’s so many people I have to thank for giving me the opportunity to win eight of these, but we would be here all night. I’ll stick to the main ones then: my beautiful wife, Y/N, who has been my biggest supporter, especially during those hard years, my not-as-beautiful team principal, Toto, for giving me a really fast car, and to all the engineers who built it. Thank you.”

Lewis looked at his reflection in the trophy and beside you Toto sniffled at what was to come. You reached over to squeeze his hand as Lewis cleared the lump in his throat.

“It’s been one hell of a journey getting here and I have met some very special people along the way, but, the most important one is yet to come and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. That is why I have chosen tonight to be the end of my road with Formula 1 but I will cherish the memories I made along the way as I start a new journey - one likely to be even harder to prepare for.”

“He’s going to be a great father,” Toto whispered as he wiped his eyes.

Your smile was beginning to ache from how long it had been on your face. “I know.”

“So,” Lewis hummed as the murmurs grew over the sudden change of heart he had compared to a week ago, “it is my honour to be the one to announce that Bianca Bustamante will be driving in Mercedes for 2026. Congratulations, Bi, you deserve it.”

Lewis held the trophy up for the flash of the photographers before leaving the stage and weaving his way back to your table. Everyone he passed gave him a standing ovation and Toto rose to meet him too, hugging each other tightly and sharing a few words of thanks before he returned to his seat beside you.

“You’re meant to thank your mum and your dad then move on,” you teased, “not make everyone cry.”

Lewis laughed, placing the trophy on table with the floral centrepieces. “Did Toto cry?”

You leaned into your husband’s side as his arm draped over your chair and you giggled with a nod. “Like a baby.”

Lewis looked at his old boss fondly before sending you a wink. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to that.”

[magicalonsomanydances]

In preparation for the Spanish Grand Prix I feel I must give my ranking of my top 10 on the Grid as some way to soothe the frustration that I have no way to watch the race.

Carlos Sainz Vazquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Birto Moreno de Aranda de Anteriuga Tiapera Deltun absolute king of my heart and the reason I got into this sport. The prince charming of Spain who's so classy and gracious and just such a good teammate no matter where he is at. With his powerful tractor beam big brown eyes. Long live the smooth operator! Vamos Carlos!

Esteban Ocon. Am I aware that this is like loving the problematic lead in a film or book just cause he has babygirl energy? Yes. Is that gonna stop me? Hell naw! I like his backstory, disarmed by his squishy little face, and I vowed to defend him from all harm like the minute after I watched him analyze Cars as being an accurate depiction of various racing aspects. Plus he's from the same region of France as where my family originates. So while Carlos is my F1 husband Estie is like my F1 baby bro. I will call him "teapot" it's a long story feel free to send me an ask about it. I will also call him Esteban "Can Do No Wrong" Ocon. Yes I'm fully self aware of how delulu I am about this man having no flaws (he does I've just elected to ignore them in favor of being charmed by the innocent face)

Daniel Ricciardo - I'm from Texas, I'm an extrovert, I'm legally obligated to stan this man to the moon and back. The Honey Badger is my spirit animal. Not the actual creature, just chaos gremlin Daniel. His energy is infectious and he brings the party and he loves my state. How could I do anything but support him?

George Russell - he was probably the second crush I got in F1 and I kinda love how in spite of his posh model energy he actually isn't from some moneyed or legacy background and he's so delightfully clueless at times "goat, sorry?" And the videos of him with kiddos he's so sweet and attentive to them

Checo - the Mexican minister of Defense. The down to earth friendly dad energy. He's just so solid and sweet and I love what he does to help mellow Max just by ya know being the chill dad Max never had. Also he an authentic Mexican, endorsed Tex-Mex so obvs I'm gonna love this man and wanna get tacos and drinks. He has that approachable energy and given the US's one driver might not even have a seat next year I gotta support our neighbor Mexico's driver cause I sure ain't supporting the Canadian nepo baby

Fernando Alonso - this mainly has to do with sex appeal let's be real. He's got that edgy bad boy kinda external vibe in some ways but then he's backstage arranging flowers and it's like "I could fix him and make him settle down" he's got charm style and is basically an immortal and foxy as hell. Let me try to domesticate this man please!

Charles Leclerc - sweet, I would vote him most likely to be true even while he's traveling abroad being swooned over and having fans handing him marriage licenses. He's just a little too type A for me to love him like I do my golden retriever energy chaos creatures and chill guys of the previous 6. But he's great and it's because of him and Carlos in the C² videos that I got roped into this sport so he's gotta make it. Plus after all the loss he's experienced he's a real inspiration in staying kind in spite of the pain of life

Max Verstappen - speaking of inspirations my traumatized ass can't help but support one of my own. He's an icon of breaking cycles. Yes he's definitely had his issues but he's matured in some ways and while I don't care if he wins or not on the track I'm very invested in him winning at life which him being a doting stepdad to Penelope is the kind of healing that helps me heal too. Children of hard ass dads who didn't realize their childhood was fucked up, unite! Plus he's an absolute goofball and that's endearing

Logan Sargent - I'm american, independence day is literally my favorite holiday, I have to have this man in my top 10 and I genuinely do think he's a classy guy (especially considering he's from Florida) and I can't help but love how the one American driver is just so painfully American looking. He looks like Captain America fucked an apple pie. He looks like scientists designed an American in a lab. He looks like the Beach Boys had a grandson with the descendants of Betsy Ross. He looks like a team scoured frat parties for a year to find the most American looking guy in the country. He is Logan Sargent and he is Kenough.

Valterri Bottas - his absolute self confidence and zero fucks given. He does not take himself too seriously and he is wholesome AF. He also has practical guy energy. Like if I hand to rank drivers on Most Likely to Pull Over and Help You Change a Tire he's definitely in the top 3. He seems like getting his hands dirty is something he's not too good to do and he seems like a good dude. Plus he's hilarious. He's as chaotic as Daniel in some ways he's just a little less boisterous about it. Calm chaos vs 5 year old given 16 energy drinks in an hour Ricciardo energy

[nikodimopoulos]

changes; self para

featuring: yiannis & helen dimopoulos mentions: @heyymikki

Even after watching the leaked security footage over, and over again, Niko couldn't quite believe what it was he was witnessing -- and for a person who put a lot of stock in the phrase seeing is believing, that was unusual.

Either way, Alejandra was dead. That much was for sure.

Everything felt like it was on fire; members of the lower ranks were going off the grid, skipping town entirely for fear of being next in line, higher-level personnel were high tailing it to Vegas, choosing to skip town and out of what was now seen as completely uneven territory between the cartel and the competition that had taken Alejandra out. After all, what protection could they possibly have in Tonopah when not even their most protected sovereign was safe?

Worst of all -- it was all because of two men he'd once trusted. Perhaps even with his life.

Word had spread like wildfire, so it wasn't a surprise when his parents had summoned him to their home, even urging him to close the restaurant down early to do so -- yet instead of getting right to the point once he arrived, they dawdled, sitting him down at the table with a coffee and making small talk. It was unusual.

Finally, after half an hour of runaround, Niko asked in his native tongue, "Can we cut the shit?"

This prompted a stern look from Yiannis from across the table. "Remember who you're speaking to, Nikolaos." The older man warned, prompting a heavy sigh to fall from Helen's lips only moments later.

"Stop it, both of you." His mother sat, topping off her husband's mug before taking a seat beside him, the both of them facing their son. "Nikolaos,we have something important to discuss with you."

Yiannis interjected, "and you need to keep your emotions in check for what we have to say. Behave yourself."

Niko's knuckles practically turned white as he tightened his grip on his coffee mug. "What is it?" He pushed, choosing to ignore the slight. Obviously it must have been big, not only because the Tonopah chapter of LS was dismantling, but also because Yiannis seemed to be deflecting his own emotions onto his son. That was how these things typically went, anyways.

The two of them shared a knowing look, and Helen nodded at her husband to go on. "Los Santos is done here. Which means a couple of things," he began, keeping his son's steady gaze. "One; there's no more of the cartel's money flowing through the restaurant. None. Which mean's Dionysos will be operating at a distinctive loss in the coming weeks, going on indefinitely. Two; if we wanted to continue operating, our best bet would be to contact the Vegas chapter, meet with their leadership, set up a deal --"

Helen interrupted, "but it's not a given that they'll bring our business in." She shook her head. "Las Vegas is a big city. Why would they bet on a small, local family operation when they're in the casino's pockets? The theatres? It would be a losing game for them to bet on us."

A pause lingered between them, and Niko could feel his stomach starting to churn. "What are you trying to say?" he asked, jaw clenched so tightly it was making the vein in his forehead start to pop. It was a ridiculous question, really -- Niko knew exactly what they were going to say.

"My son," Yiannis leaned forward, a hand resting on Niko's shoulder, "we're returning home. To Patras." He shook his head, gaze softening slightly. "There's nothing for us here anymore. It's time to go."

Niko stayed stoic, unblinking as the metaphorical bomb was dropped on top of him. Any words of protest sat thick in his throat -- that's not true, we can figure it out, we can make it work -- and instead he offered a simple nod.

Yiannis gave a wide smile, glancing back at his wife with a hearty laugh before giving Niko's shoulder a squeeze. "That's my boy, we knew you'd be on board." The man bellowed, as usual taking his son's silence whichever way benefited him most. They both did, really -- that was why saying anything at all was, at times, worse than just keeping his mouth shut.

"We always talked about going back. We didn't know it'd be this soon, under these circumstances, but..." Helen trailed off, offering a dismissive wave of her hand, "it's better this way. We can retire early. And you, my love, can set up shop back in Patras, maybe invest in another opportunity. Whatever you want to do, you'll have our full support --"

Niko's brows narrowed, a hand raised, "Mom, I --" he scoffed incredulously, unable to help himself. "Why would I go back?"

Helen's expression deflated, mimicking her son's -- for a moment, it was easy to see the resemblance. "Why wouldn't you?" She asked.

"Because I've been here for thirty years," Niko shook his head. "I have a life here, I have --" Mikayla's face flashed quickly in his mind, the thought of leaving her behind after all the promises he had given her, the commitment he had made not sitting well with him. Of course, he wasn't ready to open that can of worms with his parents, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't at the forefront of his mind in that moment. "-- that's not possible for me right now."

A moment of silence passed between the three of them. "But Patras is your home, Nikolaos," remarked Yiannis. "You would abandon it?"

"I'm not abandoning it. Christ, baba, do you hear yourself?" Yiannis tensed, opening his mouth to say something else before Niko sighed, placing his hand back down on the table. "I'm sorry, I don't mean any disrespect but you're the ones who brought me here in the first place -- you even pushed me into becoming an American citizen."

The logic seemed to assuage Yiannis, thankfully, his expression softening. "So, what?" Helen spoke up next, her eyes becoming glassy with tears. "We're supposed to leave without our son?"

Immediately a sense of guilt washed over Niko, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. This wasn't what he wanted -- wasn't what any of them wanted -- but he truly didn't see another alternative. There were a lot of choices he'd relented to over the years, a lot he'd sacrificed to become a man -- his mental health, his agency, his morals -- but leave behind the last thirty years? That's not something he was willing to do anymore, not when he finally seemed to have a chance at happiness. At something.

Swallowing thickly, Niko forced himself to tear away his gaze from his parents, looking down at the cold, untouched coffee inside of the mug.

Everything was about to change.

"Yeah." Niko answered softly, sliding the mug further away. "Yeah, mom. I suppose you are."

[lecsainz]

ׄ ᝰ team radio — ask me my top five in anything (example: my top five favorite movies of all time?)

f1 drivers

sorry for taking so long to reply, lola! I totally missed it 😭

well, my fave drivers, at least the ones racing now, are:

charles leclerc

lewis hamilton

carlos sainz

daniel ricciardo (sooo happy that my husband came back to grid!)

lando norris

I'm super into some past drivers or reserve ones, and every season my ranking shifts (except for charles! he's always my p1 after seb and kimi!)

[eyelessfog]

D'ya have any zombie cleo aus or hcs or thoughts or anything because Them

(This is Frogsquire if ur not aware :) )

i know :D hiii

mm most of my aus of them are like. thinking really really hard about them in the context of aus that are about a large cast of characters

like. swap au and parasite au and. i wrote a whole thing from her pov in the shadow life au, but it didnt have a lot of context? so i dunno if it really hit with everyone

i’ll focus on the shadow life au because i really do love talking about it, but its basically last life and double life in one au in which there is a very royalty setting and its sooo so fun. pearl is of house moon with her husband [but not lover] scott, cleo and bigb are advisors to the shadow queen lizzie [who is literally a shadow]. ren is also there.

they gain the enchanter, and it… corrupts them. lizzie kills pearl <- they were SUPPOSED to be talking and then it was just a bloodbath, bigb tries to use magic to steal cleos soul, sort of succeeds? theyre zombie cleo for a reason.

cleo is… okay so from their pov, theyve climbed up the ranks and was like. the left hand to the queen [theyre second only to the queen’s grand knight, ren], they know all the queen’s secrets, know everything about the kingdom. and then bigb tries to steal her soul and lizzie takes his side and she teams up with a man who’s also had everything stolen from him by the fey queen.

scott and cleo work together to plan out how to get rid of the queen. it’s not…. it’s not fun. house moon is a mansion and the head of a small village, and with the death of the head of the house, trust towards scott is disappearing and with him bringing an outsider in, people are getting nervous. It feels like Cleo and Scott against the world.

It’s a plan with fire. Lizzie dies, and Cleo goes home and really… really she wants revenge on BigB too.

She doesn’t manage to hunt him down before he and ren fall off the grid entirely.

a month later, pearl comes back to house moon, martyn of the southlands in tow. but she’s dead, and she’s a shadow now, and by all means this could so easily not be pearl anymore, and house moon is nothing if not paranoid-

they send her away.

she fights it, but… they’ve grieved her already. they’ve dealt with her death. pearl of house moon is gone, and it’s cleo and scott against the world. pearl and martyn leave.

it isn’t a win. it doesn’t even feel good. but a shadow killed her the first time, and they won’t let it happen again.

the double life bit is. less about them and more about like. everyone else? they kind of just live in house moon together and are the worlds sassiest roommates

[icharchivist]

I was guesstimating! I try to refer to him as little as possible, much less by any pet names, so

No

You're wrong

But yeah, it's the 5th and I'm already unwell. This isn't good. Anyway, Rank 135

you don't refer to your husband???? that's so mean. why would you do that. :(.

but yeah this is. really unwell. congratulation on the unwell behavior. shall i recommand you to work on your seraphic at the same time as you level up to strengthen your grids as you go? might do you some good :)

take care ;D

[ezramatis]

1. Watch over my corpse as it feeds the weeds and the mushrooms

Us vs The Universe chp. 1

Length: 3,6k words

Category: The Family Jewels

Warnings: References of harsh childhood, violence, references of death

————————————————————

Lady Death is one merciful entity amidst the cruel creatures of the universe. Her face is said to look as one's sense of security, would it be a mother's traits or a lover's smile. She is said to share one last dinner with the deceased before slowly drifting them away to the afterlife. By the end of the dinner, the soul becomes fully separated from their previous life.

- Journey to the Afterlife, a novel by Ramon Jefferson, 2034

Of course I know about Lady Death. The tall and mighty Death with her wide hat and her pathetic little mortal husband. Her tale is the first I was taught of. She doesn't scare me though. I met her, I think she's pretty nice.

- ...

The day before

Mika was watching from the bleachers, hands buried deep in his spring coat pockets and brown cheeks slowly turning soft pink. His eyes followed Lelia as she strayed from the metal structure to the start of the obstacle course, tying her dark braids up in a high ponytail. Even after two years of knowing her, Mika had yet to understand how she could be in shorts and a tank top in mid-November and still be able to beat everyone in the training grounds, be they watchers like him or actually here to train.

"I'm gonna rip you apart, MacNamara," the boy next to her said as they both fell into position. "We'll see," she simply replied with a shrug, her brown eyes still focused on the bell on the other side of the obstacle course.

The shot was fired and they're already running.

Over a beam, under another, up a rope grid and down on the semi-frozen soil, then over a pit and under a beam again. The boy is slightly further in front of Lelia, but unlike him, Mika knows not to underestimate Lelia. She may seem like she only got in here because her parents are high ranked in the army, but anyone who's looked at her go for more than two minutes would know she's here by sheer strength.

Mika finds it sad sometimes. She could've done so much better than the Sweeping Team, who only takes on low-class monsters and most importantly does not get credit, if it wasn't for a certain someone. Certain someone currently sitting in silence right besides Mika, music blasting from her headphones straight into his ears and guitar case he knew did not contain any instrument slung over her shoulder.

Lelia and the other boy are closer to the end than the start now, and he is still in front of her. But his steps become heavier and slower by the second as the frost starts clinging to his legs, and Mika practically knows for a fact that Lelia is smirking while she goes past the boy and rings the bell announcing the end and her victory. "He'll survive, he just won't be walking for a couple days. A week at most," Mika remembers hearing from his friend the first time she did that trick in front of him.

Lelia jogs from the end of the obstacle course to the bleachers where Mika and her girlfriend are sitting at, girlfriend who removed her headphones and is already heading down the stairs to meet her.

Mika didn't know much about Marianne Lefebvre - he still didn't know how he was supposed to pronounce her last name -, only that before ending up in St-Michels, she was a country girl in the outskirts of the Upper-East-N-A, and that she was the daughter of a weapon tycoon affiliated with the army. That, and her kill count was higher than anyone else in this hellscape of a military school. Of course, he knew her favorite dessert (dark chocolate chip cookies, surprisingly - he thought it would be chocolate pudding), her favorite color (dark red), that she very much did listen to Girl in Red and the name of her pets (two three years old enormous dogs named Laura and Salami she won't shut up about at any chance she gets), but not a whole lot about her life before St-Michels, so past the last three years. Still, he sort of understands her, as anything before military school he himself would've rather forget.

Because even then, in all its very conservative values, its stupidly strict rules and it's tendency to exploit teenagers under the excuse of military training, St-Michels was still leagues better than the monsters outside of it.

Mika doesn't exactly remember why exactly he was here. He vaguely recalls a beef some guy had with Lelia about a mission, but it stopped there. And since the girls were already leaving the training grounds and he had nothing to do here in the first place, he left the cold of November in Savilere for the warmth of his dorm room. The cookie dough he made earlier in lunch time must be ready to be put in the oven by now anyways, as it was was already late in the afternoon.

***

Even after all those years, after all this practice and experience, Mika was still very much not an expert. Well, maybe he was, but being one doesn't bring to zero the risk or burns if your oven mittens are too small and your cookie plaque is far in the oven. The risk is low, but never zero.

Cold water runs over his left hand, dragging a sigh of relief out of his mouth. As a small area became redder and redder with every moment, he noticed it ran almost exactly between one of the pale vitiligo spots under his knuckles and his natural brown skin, which if you ignore the pain was actually pretty funny. He shook his hand to get rid of the water and put three of the red velvet cookies on a small plate, and before leaving the kitchen, stopped in front of a small mirror on the wall. His eyes drifted to his cheeks, "big like a child's" they said. He bit his lip, moved his front reddish-brown curls in front of his face and promptly left.

And in front of him, sitting on the floor against Mika's bed, guitar in their hands and small flowers in their hair, there they were. His best friend, neighbor and crush of two years,

Asher Vaillancourt.

But behind the very aesthetic scenery of them toying with the strings of the sticker-covered guitar and the plants slowly dancing to the lazy notes with the last rays of sunlight peaking through the curtains, Mika was far from fooled. Asher's dirty blonde hair was slightly disheveled, their usually neatly ironed shirt was wrinkled from top to bottom and an empty box of takeout was lying on the floor beside them. Mika tried not to wince at it, and failed. They raised their head at the sound of Mika's footsteps and dark bags underlined their deep green eyes. Which usually meant that they spent all night writing.

Their eyes lit up at the sight of the cookies on the plate and immediately started using their favorite manipulation technique...

Flattering.

"Mikael Ray Garcia, my beloved best friend whom I cherish more than anything in this life, did you know I wrote you a poem yesterday night?"

Mika sighed, not without a smile. And a slight blush on his cheeks with his best friend's words. It was their gift after all, why wouldn't they use it?

When Mika first met Asher, he didn't get why they could get away with everything they did that definitely were against the school's code. Now he understands, oh lord he understands.

"Yeah yeah chill, i was going to give you some, no need to pull out your charms. You get two."

He sat on a pillow right under the window of his dorm room and slid the ceramic plate over to Asher. Mika made the cookies specifically for them, but he would never admit that out loud. Plus, he made desserts for everyone all the time, so it's just normal to give some to Asher too, right? Their shining eyes and praise have nothing to do with that, absolutely not. They don't, Mika tries to convince himself sometimes. It mostly doesn't work.

After plucking the plate clean of any cookie crumbs and washing their hands to not deal with the grease, Asher started picking at the strings of the guitar again, small sounds resonating against the walls. Mika closed his eyes, content to just listen to the bits of a melody he didn't recognize. "So, what did you write for me, mx. the poet?" he asks, eyelids still closed shut.

"Esti" they mumble. "So, uh, about that, eh, it's... not done. But I did find a good poem last night during my researchs!"

Mika contains a sigh.

"Go on, do that one then. I'm all ears."

Asher runs through the pages of their notebook and clears their throat.

"Self-loathing and Consciousness walk into a bar..."

It goes on for a couple minutes, where Mika tries to focus on the melody rather than the lyrics. He tries, he truly does. He holds the tears behind his eyelids when the verses become a little too familiar. Too relatable. He never talked about this to anyone, much less to his best friend, so how? They- they couldn't have known. The only option he sees is that it wasn't on purpose. He could still brush it off with 'it was sad' when Asher inevitably asks if he's okay.

Because 'it's sad' is leagues better than 'i relate to this more than anyone should'.

He remembers the relief of when his mother took him and left for Middle-N-A. It didn't feel real, like a dream that would disappear as soon as he tried to fully grasp it. "We don't have that much money." He knew that. "You're gonna have to go to a military school and enroll in a monster-extermination squad." He knew that too. But as much as he loved Lower-N-A - what used to be Mexico, he read that in a book - , the the North-American center was way safer for his mother.

From both the monsters and his father.

"... pretend you didn't. Take. A. Shot."

The melody stopped, dragging Mika out of his thoughts. Asher was looking at him rather than their scribble-filled notebook, and he had to say something.

"It was good, very sad but the music went well with it. I- I don't really know what to add to that, you're the poetry expert not me," he answered before taking a bite out of the cookie he kept for himself. It was supposed to be good, the white chocolate chips were meant to melt in his mouth and the softness of the dough should've comforted him, but it felt bitter and heavy and he wanted to spit it all out. He harshly swallowed the chunk of the red cookie and put the rest back down on the ceramic plate lying on the floor.

"Eh, I found it after what, a few hours?" they replied with a shrug. "Took me a little while. Wanna know where I found it?"

"Sure"

"If I tell you, you won't believe me."

Mika deadpanned.

"Just tell me already, idiot."

"Okay, okay, fine." Asher smiled and brought their right hand - to one that they couldn't play with as it was mostly made of metal - to cup their mouth, as if telling a secret and wispered: "It was in a fanfiction."

'Flabbergasted' was a weak attempt at describing how Mika felt. A complete file of most of his childhood trauma laid out in front of him, and it's from a fanfiction?

"Told you you wouldn't believe me! It came out like 25 years ago anyways, I didn't even have context for the characters interacting in the chapter I found it."

They kept talking about everything and nothing for a few hours, mostly Asher ranting about poetry and Mika just listening until they finally thought going to sleep was a good idea.

Or more accurately until the alarm in Mika's room started blaring, urging him to run straight into Lady Death's open arms.

***

A few hours before

He let himself crash in the subway car seat, his black motorcycle coat clashing against the bright orange color of the scratched cushions. He buried his right hand in the deep pocket and wiped his still half asleep eyes under his glasses with the other. It was in these moments he was reminded that he was not nearly paid enough to do this. The screen over the sliding doors of the cabin said 00:19, which was way too late to send a bunch of high schoolers on a mission on a school night.

Mika took out the gun out of its holster on the interior of his coat and looked at it longingly. It was modified by Mari's mother's company specifically for low-level monster-hunting, which was the Sweeping Team's main and only job. It had a viser and the interior of it constantly had a mix of Angelcap mushroom and Anglosorus saliva, two things easy to harvest and deadly to most Eldritchs coating the bullets inside. He wasn't that good with it at first, but he figured it out.

He had to.

His eyes strayed from the weapon to the four other people in the military cabin. Mari was sitting on his left, her guitar case over her knees, fast and clever hands assembling her rifle in record time. The team's distance shooter. Lelia was watching her, her head resting on Mari's left shoulder and braids falling over Mari's arm. It didn't seem to bother her. The team's gift user, able to manipulate ice and temperatures. She wasn't the only member of the team with a gift, of course, but offensively, it was the most effective of the bunch.

Asher was sitting across the way from him, their foot lightly tapping the floor to the rhythm of their earbuds. Their orange backpack he knew was full of medical supplies was sitting right beside them on the subway seat, so full it was barely staying completely closed. The team's medic.

And lastly, the last member of the Sweeping Team N°29, Felix.

Felix was surprisingly fairly normal, if you put aside his pyromaniac tendencies. He was the team's artificer, whose sole job was to throw bombs at the targets to either stun them and create an opening or just straight up blow their heads off. He was pretty much cut for the job, so Mika wasn't really surprised when he got the spot. He was the team's wild card, or as Mari usually said, loose canon. Noticeable with split platinum and brown hair and more piercings than Mika could count, Felix was the least predictable person he ever knew in his surprisingly short life.

Mika sort of liked the subway, and he never in a million year would've said that if he took the actual subway instead of the emergency military cabin that ran right beside it. Unlike the actual, dirty and loud subway filled with depressed people, this one was relatively clean, silent and filled with depressed teenagers.

The cabin suddenly stopped, meaning they arrived to the spot where the source of the chaos was. 'Two Third-Class phoenixes. Fire to kill.' the message board said. Those where relatively rare Eldritches, usually staying on their island somewhere in the Atlantic. The doors opened, and Mika exited the cabin. As the blinding lights of the city lit up the dark street and the two tall fiery birds danced above the ground, everything seemed to slow down. One of them shot something towards him, and Lelia was the first to react and shot fast instructions, as a good leader should.

"Avoid the tails, they can shoot deadly projectiles! Mika, main body! Felix, go for the wings and head! Mari, wings to incapacitate! Asher, stay alert! If possible, do not harm the egg!"

That's when Mika noticed it. One of them was holding onto an egg, meaning it was a male, and the other didn't, which meant it was a female. He raised his gun, but didn't avoid the projectile shot towards him in time. It scraped his left hip, burning like hot metal. A tear was fuming from the burnt-brown edges in his black motorcycle coat. He hissed, shivered and raised his gun again. The fire and overwhelming heat made his vision waver, but the bullet found a home in the monster's lower belly, right beside the orange-spotted yellow egg. He took a deep breath which didn't make him feel better at all and raised his shaking right arm. It was something that, despite everything, he knew he would do for the rest of his life. Ignore the pain, aim, fire. Recharge, and repeat. It's the only way when you've sunk low enough with no rope to climb back up. He squinted at the visor, his non-valid right eye actually being helpful for once. Although the myopia in his left eye was still terrible from the beginning, the glasses were at least helping a little bit.

A bomb exploded on the bird's right wing, forcing it to reach for the ground. Felix's doing. Mika took the opportunity to fire another shot at its main body, and another at it's fire sack. He remembered that from one of Mari's many rants on Eldritch biology, one of her main classes beside math. 'Did you know that a phoenix's fire sack, located at the base of it's neck, is what makes them able to regenerate via their flames? It's also one of their weakest points.' He didn't always listen to her a hundred percent, he couldn't focus very long on something he didn't find that interesting, but he still tried to store at least some of that info for later.

And now they come in handy.

He aimed at the panicked bird's neck and fired.

It wasn't a clean shot, as the phoenix was desperately trying to get back in the air, but the bullet made a tear in the fire sack and exploded it with force. Mika fired one last time, right in the eye. The bird stopped wiggling, and fell dead on the asphalt. It was over.

Mika approached it and felt an even worse pain and heat in his chest than before. His whole body was like on fire, probably because flames were devouring his coat and his back.

Oh yeah.

The other one.

He wanted to lay down on the ground. The others were dealing with the phoenix that was left, so it was fine right? He felt his forces drain from his very being, and the darkness of unconsciousness veiled over his eyes and spirit. His body hit the hard road, but it felt more comfortable than anything he ever knew.

Last thing his brain registered was a stare of horror on Mari's slightly blurry face and a scream of his name that vaguely resembled Asher's voice.

***

Asher's blue tea set made of heavy metal, a strong smell of peppermint emanating from it. A plate full of chocolate chip cookies and a lava cake in a glass cup covered in raspberries and whipped cream. A three-level dessert trey filled to the brim with small round brownies and blue, purple and green macarons. Mika has been sitting here for about twenty minutes - or thirty? - , memories slowly flooding his mind. The ones from the last day he spent alive have just came back to him, and when he raised his head after all those visions of his previous life, the desserts replaced his finished plate and the spiced fish that remained untouched by his host in front of him. His favorite meal, followed by his favorite desserts. He finally decided to look up his host in the eyes rather than distantly staring at her joint hands half-covered in dark lace resting on her side of the table.

Under the big hat and through the black veil, she vaguely resembled Regina Garcia. Similar traits, and her dark eyes had hints of his mother's amber brown eyes. Light vitiligo spots ran in the visible part of the woman's chest, right over her dark dress' collar.

But it wasn't his mother.

His mother was thinner that the woman, first of all. The woman was very big, while the one who birthed him and took care of him was only chubby at best. The woman had long and wavy silver hair with hints of purple lighting, and his mother had short, curly brown hair. Also, his mother did not stay still, unmoving without showing a sign of life for twenty minutes.

Mika stared into her deep eyes for a few seconds before a slight frown replaced her calm air and she tilted her head. For the first time since he arrived, she spoke. It was nothing like his mother, which was rather uncanny as she had her traits.

"Why- What's happening?" she murmured confusedly. She seemed taken aback by something Mika did not see. He felt it though. Like a string pulling him backwards, away from the woman and the metallic outside table. Away from the desserts and the tea cups.

She reached a laced hand towards him, but she and the table were already pulled so far from him. Or maybe he was retracting from this space in between time and space, half-way between life and death.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the cloud-filled grey sky was the one to greet him. That, and Mari's looming face a good three feet above him, long platinum hair reaching out towards him.

"Welcome back."

[augment-techs]

“Noticing some not-so-recent scars on their back while applying some ointment, asking them where they got it from”+ Billy/Skull… but I’m wondering… if you could make it world of the Coinless???👀

"Bones," Skull sighed, rather like a much put-upon housewife catching a husband in the act of dipping into cookie batter, rather than a figure of much revere among the ranks trying not to loom over a victim brought down low by circumstances beyond their own control as he tried not to shake apart at the notion of being touched by a kind hand, "If you think I won't stay here all night, then you forget that I'm much more stubborn than you ever were."

"...You got so tall," was the first thing Billy had said with any form of coherency since the release of Drakkon's meddled with spell on his psyche.

Skull didn't count the onrush of emotional turmoil built up over twenty years through the trauma of being stuck in someone's own head. The admission of regrets and guilt and the wishes to die (amazing that Skull had gotten so good at brushing that kind of thing off; but then, he had been there for Kim, after all) and being too out of it to say words that weren't mired down in tears.

This was something still rather less than what he would have liked, but baby steps were necessary.

He ducked down so as not to hit his head on the old piping and fixtures of the laundry room at the very back of Drakkon's old palace, a perfect place for the broken and weary to hide (Skull's kids did similar, often, in the early days of their working in the ranks; this was not at all difficult for him) with the rumble and groans of sloshing water with linens and the heat rolling clean clothes hitting the floor just right. The little space in the wall that was a bit of an alcove once used for the more filthy laundry, this place Billy had chosen, probably had some metaphorical significance, but that was neither here nor there.

"Do you want to walk to the medical bay, or would you rather go to my room for some privacy?"

No glasses to hide behind, the blue and whites of his eyes were all the clearer and larger as Billy goggled at Skull with a wide open mouth and floundered about for a moment; a teenager again in high school caught by a teacher when he wasn't paying that close of attention.

"You...you want me in your room?"

Both of them blinked, casually aware of the innuendo that brushed up against both of their lizard brains and warranted a flighty hand maneuver from Skull. Palms together, thumbs adjoined, fingers and palms unfolding and refolding to look like butterfly wings as he cleared his throat and shrugged before answering.

"I mean, that's something that probably won't ever change..."

* *

Drakkon always did like marking his territory.

But Skull had hoped being under his thrall meant Billy might be exempt from that sort of thing.

At least for the two years Skull was in the Deadlock.

Those teeth marks were unmistakable and familiar, though. It seemed as if he'd been biting and using Billy right up and until he vanished into the Grid for his punishments. Not quite a mirror to the ones on Skull's own back--those were much deeper and had faded slightly in the shallows of what his flesh had to do to survive without food or sunlight; an ocean passing over footprints in the sand before going dormant beneath it in a drought--but a different sort of same. Whites and pinks and old.

Not the injuries Skull was addressing with salves and poultice though.

His chicken claw hands peeled away ruddy brown scabs, pinched at grey-green pustules, traced thin pock-marked burns that were from maintaining the throne in the absence of Kim and Drakkon, and in defiance of the code and spells wreaking havoc in his brain for months and months.

A set of claw marks near Billy's neck and ribs had Skull almost smiling a hangman's grin, "I take it these were Finster's going-away presents to you?"

Billy didn't speak, face hiding against his knees, but his arms tightened their hold around his legs, and his shoulders widened in their tenseness.

Skull knew he was right, didn't coax him to a yes when it wasn't necessary.

He just breathed out; something like relief at never having to see the disgusting little monster again, and grief that it had to come through Billy's hands when he still wasn't quite in his right mind.

It would still have been righteous, killing a thing that ritually killed his dead wife through his putties and his magic every time he cared to remember; killing a thing that stole Zordon's loyal companion's body and turned everything hiding in it towards the use of evil; killing the thing that had pity for Drakkon and in doing so made the world worse and worse over time. But Billy never could understand that anger was a natural emotion, and just because he killed that thing in anger while still out of his mind, it didn't mean he'd done wrong.

Skull weaved fingers through sandy hair in the interest of both looking for more injuries which also had the truly wonderful side-effect of loosening up tense shoulders and giving Billy a fair warning before Skull leaned in to kiss his shoulder before carrying on.

"I'm glad you won in that fight, Billy. Finster had this coming since before the two of us were born, and better for him to die because you fought back, than for you to have remained forever under a spell he would never have removed himself. Even as an overlord, you were still better, you still did better."

He reached his spare hand around the steadily shaking frame, arm around Billy's belly, and set his chin on the shoulder he'd kissed so they were cheek to cheek.

"And now you're here. We've all got a little blood on our hands, but this blood isn't even worth morning. And here's your blood come up for the healing. I'll wipe it away as many times as you need, too."

The little whine out of Billy's mouth broke Skull's heart, but the hand that found his was a start that he held onto. It was understanding, maybe not agreement, but understanding.

[sequinsandfins]

So my husband is letting me interview him for some f1 commentary. He will be rating f1 drivers on their bangability. quite possibly some personal opinions will bias this... but so far he has told me:

Carlos is number 1. Charles is who you would pick if you wanted the boy band version of Carlos.

@leafitoutmate tells me Carlos has had a haircut and this may influence my husband's opinion. But I can tell you right now I know his response will be, "At least he has hair."

interested in hearing his thoughts on the rest of the grid?

[thestalkerbunny]

A character I’ve been meaning to give a design to for a while; A Wild Shape Druid whose retirement plan is to just turn into a wolf and never turn back. He’s gonna be in a sort of Dnd themed story I wanna do called ‘Overcharmed’

I’ve given him the proper name of Ludwig Von Merriweather Voltaire the Third-but he’s better known as Vulf. His Father is a very wealthy retired bard who had a lot of kids young-with Vulf being the only male and eldest-and heir to the whole thing, the boats, the manor, the whole vault, the lands-everything his father gained during his own adventures and conquests. The only problem is that Vulf resents his whole family from his father to his step mother most of all, his sisters and a nephew or two because they just don’t know how to ACT anymore they’re that level of rich. Buy and Shoot a bear at a party rich. Step Mother with a ‘I never gave my husband my OWN male heir so Im going to meddle in my daughter’s personal sex lives to make that happen’. Sisters who drop casual ignorant racism that they refuse to correct ever.

So he basically dissapeared and lives off the grid-only showing up once or twice a year when his father claims he’s ‘DYING’ yet again only to make a miraculous recovery a week later. He frequently makes the dark remark that he plans to become a very high ranked druid (as Druids of the highest rank basically live for hundreds of hundreds of years) so he could plant trees on all their graves because that’s the only way anything good could come out of them. Wildshaping repeatedly has resulted in him having a few canine features much to his pleasure-like pointy ears, sharp fangs, etc.

[necromcom]

by popular (one) demand, jiang cheng outfit rankings. here is the truth. ........... here is the first half of the truth (12th-7th place) because you can only have 10 images per reblog.

12. last place. phoenix mountain + burial mounds visit + staged duel:

we were all dazzled by the cape removal, i get it, but every feature of this outfit is distracting me from every other feature at the same time. there is too much going on. i like the deep but subtle pattern on the outer layer but it deserved to be the primary pattern present. i don't know what to say about the bronze-ish edges of the top layer. in theory the fact that they look vaguely snakelike should be great but i hate them. the bracers are Nothing. they look like loose pieces of cloth tied on with glitter ribbon. this is getting meaner than i planned to and there are so many details that if i talk any longer about this one my great-grandchildren will be the ones hitting "post now." let's move on.

11. sixteen-years-later #1:

okay. okay. alright. okay. first. i love the sleeves. the bracers, which i think are unique to this outfit, are very good. that's.... that's it. there is none of the crispness of any (chronologically) previous look, nor the delicateness of sixteen-years-later #2, though it shares the virtue of the guan with the fishies. the primary shade of purple and the middle pattern, while still in the realm of that fun little consistency in so many of his outfits, lack the usual commitment, and i long to forget the day when a friend, with the pitying and hesitant air of a stranger on my doorstep presenting me with a horribly familiar pocket watch and telling me that my husband would not be returning from sea, pointed out what appear to be four sliderless zippers running across each of the black panels. 10. halfhearted fratricide robes:

nobody talks about this one much. surprisingly the context has little bearing on my feelings towards any of these, but the black and white grid pattern startled and continues to vex me. the other layers are fine though. 9. gusu:

eh. mweh. it's there. it's mandatory. what do i say.

8. directly post-sunshot:

the very last outfit to be graced by the pre-official-sect-leadership hairstyle (may it find peace in the next life). familiar sharp/curly design down&across the front, which i will once and only once admit puts me in mind of a temporary tattoo you'd get from a coin operated machine in a pizza parlor but still appeals to me anyway, is present and bolder than ever. frankly adorable shade of blue. got my favorite bracers on. something about the cut seems like it doesn't agree with the fabric and that's my only criticism. 7. Challenge Hiking™:

i'm not counting the blindfold as part of the outfit, although if you wanted to, it does make both a pleasant accent and thought-provoking statement piece. setting that aside, it's gracefully understated, has a nice flare to it, and crucially, has no competition for Comfiest Looking Ensemble in his repertoire, without sacrificing style. continued in reblog.

[storm24universe]

Aesthetic Legacy Challenge (Sims 4)

I love legacy challenges in the Sims 4, so here is my take on it: a generational journey through some #aesthetics. Each generation will have a popular aesthetic, some mostly random traits and objectives to achieve in each lifetime. Feel free to change the gender roles. (Also sorry in advance if my mood boards aren’t aesthetically accurate) .

Generation 1: E-Girl (or E-boy) / Scene

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/E-Girl 

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Scene

Scene has always been the black sheep of her family, so when an online friend told her about a cheap new apartment (19 Culpepper House) in San Myshuno, she jumped at the opportunity. Life hasn’t always been easy and money is tight but with her spontaneity and style, Scene will reach new heights!

Traits: Geek, Clumsy, Creative

Aspiration: City Native

Objectives: 

Start your life at 19 Culpepper House with 10,000 dollars.

Master the City Living aspiration [final apartment value objective is optional]

Start a career as a Freelancer (Programmer)

Master the skills of painting, programming and video games

Have a child (to be the next generation)

Generation 2: Femme Fatale

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Femme_Fatale

Fatale grew up a city kid and she grew up to fast. She loves her mother and admires her courage and spontaneity, but she needs more stability in her life... and she will do whatever it takes to get it. Her mysterious allure, intelligence and beauty puts her in the sights of the Agency, who recruit her as a secret agent. Will she become their top agent or live long enough to become the villain?

Traits: Genius, Self-Assured, Ambitious

Aspiration: Serial Romantic

Career: Secret Agent

Objectives:

Master the Secret Agent career path

Master the Serial Romantic Aspiration

Master the Charisma and Logic skills

Get married as an Adult

Have a child (the next generation)

Disappear from your family and transition to a vampire before you become an Elder

Generation 3: Minimalist

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Minimalism

Garde doesn’t like people. Ever since her mother disappeared, the only thing she has loved is art. Her father wanted her to go to college, but she knew better. College was for sheeple, not thought-leaders like her! Her life was going was going exactly as planned until she caught the scent of her mother’s perfume. Why had her mother left?

Traits: Perfectionist, Art Lover, Snob

Aspiration: Mansion Baron

Career: Critic, Detective

Objectives:

Reach level 5 of the Critic Career Path

Meet your future husband at an Art Gallery or at work

Quit your job and become a detective

Master the Vampire Lore skill

Have a child (the next generation)

Generation 4: Bohemian 

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Bohemian

Boho loves colour and chaos. The first chance she got, she moved from her straight-lace home to the islands of Sulani. Sure she may have gotten some financial support from her family, but she is trying to make a difference and that can be expensive! She loves to swim in the ocean and believes that she will find true love with a local. (Hopefully a handy one because living off the grid is harder than it looks). 

Traits: Cheerful, Child of the Ocean, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Conservationist

Objectives:

Move to Sulani and live on an Off-the-Grid lot

Master the Soulmate aspiration

Be in a relationship with a mermaid

Master the Archaeology skill

Travel to Selvadorado and explore some ruins

Have a child (the next generation)

Generation 5: Dark Academia

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Dark_Academia

Dark had a life of adventure, traveling with her mom and learning about history... but when the chance to attend Britechester came along she knew that she found her place within its ivy covered walls. History, books and ill-fated attempts to fit in would lead her to become one of the brightest (and chaotic) legal minds of her generation.

Traits: Bookworm, Proper, Erratic

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Law

Objectives:

Go to Britechester and get a degree in History

Live on Campus

Master the Law Career

Marry a Selvadorean local

Have a child (the next generation)

Generation 6: Boujee

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Boujee

Boujee knows that life doesn’t mean much without a little luxury and a lot of fun. As an actress and soon to be world famous star, she knows that the road to hell may be paid with good intentions but the road to Del Sol Valley is paved with stars. Lights, Camera, Action!

Traits: Materialist, Self-Absorbed, Kleptomaniac 

Aspirations: Master Actress

Career:  Actress

Objectives:

Master the Master Actress Aspiration

Have an elaborate wedding

Master the singing skill

Become a 5 Star Celebrity

Have a child with another celebrity (the next generation)

Have a nanny

Generation 7: Cottage Core

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Cottagecore

Core was raised by a nanny, trying to avoid the spotlight. Her only haven was the estate garden where she learned about plants and wrote poems. She dreams of the day when she can move to a little cottage and spend the days caring for her plants and pets.

Traits: Romantic, Loves Outdoors, Vegetarian

Aspiration: The Curator

Career: Freelancer (Writer)

Objectives:

Live in a small house (cottage)

Have a pet

Master the Gardening Skill and Cooking Skill

Master the Curator Aspiration

Write a bestseller

Become a witch

Have a child with a witch/warlock

Generation 8: Bubblegum Witch

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Bubblegum_Witch

Bubblegum comes from a family of witches and is ready to find her power. She is not your garden variety witch, she knows that true power is in the chaos. Bubblegum may look sweet but she has a vicious streak. How else can she become a master duelist?

Traits: Childish, Mean, Insider

Aspiration: Spellcraft and Sorcery

Career: Social Media (Internet Personality)

Objective:

(If you did not inherit the spellcaster life state) go through the Rite of Ascension

Master all 6 ranks of the Spellcaster

Master the Social Media career path

Create a Coven (through club functions)

Get Mischief and Wellness Skills to level 4

Have a child with a vampire 

Generation 9: Royalcore

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Royalcore

Royal is the final progeny of the challenge and she is determined to be recognized for her excellence. If she cannot become a queen, she will become a Master. The Grand Master Vampire of Forbidden Hollow. Bow down and you may yet survive by her grace. 

Traits: Hot-Headed, Music Lover, Family Orientated

Aspirations: Master Vampire

Career: Politician

Objectives:

Become a Vampire (if you are not born one, get Femme or a Master Vampire to change you)

Master the Master Vampire Aspiration

Master the Politician career path

Master the Piano skill

(If Femme is still alive) Move in with Femme

Have two or more relationships at the same time

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 16 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Chapter 15)

Nixon - July - September 1944 All thought left Nixon’s mind as he stared down into Emily’s red-rimmed gray eyes. He wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in his throat. Who the hell was he to tell her anything? He was married. He was a bad husband, a selfish lover, a drunk - he had no business giving her advice.

“Just trust me,” he whispered. Emily’s frown deepened as she searched his face. But Nixon would reveal nothing. The only thing he was certain about in that moment was that he didn’t want to see Emily get hurt; not by Harry, not by him, not by anyone. “Emily, I’m sorry I accused you of not taking your job seriously. You are one of the best people on my staff.”

“Really?” Emily’s voice was meek. 
“If not the best. You’re invaluable. I’m sorry that I haven’t given you the acknowledgment you deserve. I’m sorry you don’t get the respect you deserve.” Emily swallowed. Nixon’s heart broke into a thousand pieces when her chin quivered. “I’m sorry I got so emotional,” she said in a hushed voice. “Don’t apologize.” Nixon wanted to move forward to touch her, to hold her, but something in him wouldn’t allow it. She probably didn’t want that from him anyway. His words could only heal so much in a night. 
“Please,” something caught in Nixon’s throat, “please just don’t say anything to Harry. I don’t want to see you get heartbroken.” Emily bit her lip. It took all of his patience to remain quiet as he waited for her to respond. She roamed his face with her eyes. It was as if she was looking right through him, right into the very core of him. Nixon’s stomach jumped at her shameless gaze. “Fine,” she finally said. Fine, he would have to accept that. Inside, he begged her to say more. He begged her to stay standing there so he could just look at her a moment longer. But she turned to the street, the city’s shadows rippling off the folds of her dress, the angle of her jaw and curve of her eyelashes. She stretched a hand into the night sky and a black cab appeared, its golden headlights flashing. Emily turned back to look at him before stepping through the open car door, “see you in Aldbourne, Nix.” 
Nixon only managed to raise a hand goodbye and then she was gone, slipping off into the night. Nixon kicked himself. Why did he make the same mistake over and over again? He always went too far. He was mean. Why? Why did he lose his cool around her? Day after day he had officers, soldiers, and Tommy’s saying stupid shit to him and he still managed to hold his tongue. But the simplest conversation with Emily would spiral out of his control. Nixon returned to Aldbourne in the morning. He was relieved to be back. He needed a purpose and he enjoyed the work that occupied him. Green replacements were showing up every day to take the place of men Nixon had worked alongside for two years. All of the new faces suddenly made the quaint refuge of Aldbourne feel foreign. The new soldiers hadn’t had half the training the Toccoa men had, nor the rigor that Easy Company experienced under Sobel. Winters and the other officers had their work cut out for them getting the replacements up to standard. Nixon had other things to worry about. The 101st was on standby; jumps were scheduled and canceled as Patton’s army infiltrated the continent. The men were restless. Having faced the reality of war in Normandy, the men were living carpe diem. They went out drinking, fighting, and playing every chance they got. John Martin and Bill Guarnere even got themselves some tattoos. In the evenings, Nixon found himself in his lover’s bed, and during the days he was watching Emily. As far as Nixon knew, Emily hadn’t said anything to Harry regarding her feelings. But Nixon didn’t miss the forlorn looks she gave him. Nixon grit his teeth each time he saw her mooning over Harry’s turned back. That night in London Nixon realized that he cared deeply for Emily in a way that could never be realized. He was married. He was a rogue. She deserved so much more than being a mistress- stop. He had to stop himself there. He couldn’t afford to even entertain the idea. Let her pine for Harry. It was only a crush, a crush and nothing more. It wasn’t hurting anyone; at least no one but him. The reality was, Emily was young. She was beautiful and clever. One day she would meet someone and it would be more than just a crush. Their fight in London had sobered Nixon up. Not literally, but it made him check his own behavior. He didn’t want to fight with her again. He never wanted to make her cry again. If all they could be was friends and colleagues, he wanted to be the best friend and colleague she had. Once they returned to the continent their time together would be even more limited. Nixon was determined to make the most of it. That summer in Aldbourne they worked together more symbiotically than ever before. Nixon’s conscious patience combined with Emily’s keen intuition made their workdays go smoothly. This was beneficial for the American intelligence’s reputation in front of the Brits. The next drop onto the continent would take place in Holland. Operation Market Garden was the brainchild of British intelligence. Nixon didn’t want to sound like a snob so he wouldn’t admit that he was wary of their plan. But orders were orders so Nixon surrendered control. Though Operation Market garden was the strategic genius of the British, Nixon and his staff did a lot of the grunt work. Emily helped to identify drop zones and coordinated routes for the paratroopers to meet up with the British armory. It was a lot of work in a region Emily had never seen, nor would likely ever see. The plan was to drop into Holland near Eindhoven. This meant another troopship for Emily and overground travel through the seized territory. If everything went as it should, Emily would link up with Battalion headquarters just across the border in Germany. That was if everything was executed as the allies hoped. Summer wound down and the first chills of winter came with the falling leaves of September. Back in their old digs, Nixon sipped on a whiskey-laced cup of coffee. “Why are you being so nice to me lately?” Emily was working at her desk, using a ruler to draw a grid on a black and white map. “What do you mean? I’m always nice.” Emily lifted her pen from the map she was looking at to give him a look. “What? You want me to be mean?”



“No, of course not,” she turned back to her paper, “but it’s weird.”



“Why is it weird?”



“I’m just not used to you like this.” “Like what?” “You have two versions.” Emily said, “smart Nix and grumpy Nix.” “Nice to hear you think I’m smart,” Nixon perched on the edge of his desk to watch her work. “Smart as in smart-ass,” she elaborated. “Well, that’s not very nice.” “I’m not the one being accused of being nice.” “Accused? You make nice sound like such a bad thing.” Emily giggled, “I do not! I’m just saying you’re out of character.” “Maybe war has changed me.” “I’m so glad you’re never dramatic.” Nixon raised his eyebrows over a sip of coffee, “If I’m dramatic it’s from spending time with you.” Emily stuck her tongue out at him. Nixon was about to retort when Lt. Colonel Strayer appeared in in the doorway, “Captain Nixon,” “Right,” Nixon sat his coffee down on his desk and followed Strayer out the door. Nixon shared a jeep with Strayer as far as the hanger outside Aldbourne. Winters stood in front of the Easy Company men assembled beneath a large map of Holland. Nixon took his place on Winters’ left and the lieutenants and sergeants fell in by rank behind him. Nixon noticed Emily’s handiwork on the stenciled letters above the hand-colored map. “This is called Operation Market Garden,” Winters presented, “in terms of Airborne Divisions involved, we’re dropping deep into occupied Holland.” Nixon scanned the faces of the men assembled before them. Without knowing the individuals, he could tell who had been in Normandy and who hadn’t; it was the difference of acceptance and anxiety. All of their serious faces hung on Winters’ every word, soaking up every detail of what was to come. As Winters finished his presentation some of the veteran’s expressions changed to ones of confusion. Nixon stepped forward, “the entire European advance has been put on hold to allocate resources for this operation. It’s Montgomery’s personal plan and we’ll be under British command.” Once Nixon finished the men filed out to prepare to jump the next day. “Old men and children?” Winters said over Nixon's shoulder.

Nixon looked over at his friend, “that’s what they’re telling us.” “And how reliable do you think the intelligence is?” Winters asked as they walked out of the hanger. Nixon rolled his jaw, “what can I say? It’s coming from the top.”

“It’s hard to believe this will end the war.”

“All we can do is hope for the best. Home by Christmas,” Nixon said. “Home by Christmas,” Winters repeated as if it were a mantra. That night Nixon couldn’t sleep though he needed to. They would be leaving for the airfield at first light. After an hour or so of staring at his ceiling, Nixon pulled on his boots, grabbed his flask, and walked downstairs. He didn’t know what he was seeking but he had to get out of his room. Nixon took a sip from his flask as he stepped into the hall. It seemed to stretch on forever in the darkness. He didn’t bother to screw the cap on his flask. He made his way down the carpeted steps drinking along the way. Nixon didn’t know where he was going as he wandered through the winding halls of the manor. It wasn’t until he was in front of her door that he realized he had walked to Emily’s room. He raised his hand to knock when the door swung open. “Oh!” Emily yelped in surprise then quickly pressed a hand over her mouth, “Lew, you startled me.”

“Uh, sorry,” Nixon said. Emily’s expression quickly morphed into concern, “is everything okay?” Nixon smoothed his hair down, realizing it was probably mussed from laying in bed. “oh yeah, I just was walking by and noticed your light on. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” “Oh,” Emily smiled suspiciously, “okay, well I’m going downstairs for some tea, you want to come?” Nixon hesitated, considering her offer, “uhh, no, that’s okay. Thanks.” “Okay, you sure?” Emily’s eyes flicked down at the flask in his hand. Nixon tightened his grip on it suddenly self conscious. “Yeah, gonna head to bed.” “Okay, well hey, if I don’t see you before,” she paused, not wanting to verbalize the goodbye. “I’ll see you over there,” Nixon nodded confidently at her. Unexpectedly, she reached out and took his empty hand. Nixon looked down at her grip and back up into her sweet face. She squeezed his hand, “I’ll see you over there, Lew.” It took all of his willpower to turn away from her. He walked slowly back down the dark hallway listening to her light steps fall away down the steps behind him.

[thatgamefromthatad]

3 more games like Merge Mansion - the genre is evolving!

More and more games like Merge Mansion (two-item merge games) are being released and I can hardly keep up, but I’m glad because I find this genre so satisfying! Here I’ll review three more relatively new games, which are all unique in that they break off quite a bit from the original Merge Mansion, and include their own mechanics not seen in the other Merge Mansion-esque games I’ve covered!

You can see my original Games like Merge Mansion review here, although it’s quite outdated as many of those games have made significant changes since I wrote that in early March. I’ll try to add some updates to the original post sometime in the near future to better reflect that current status of each of those games. You can also find links to the other two-item merge games I’ve previously reviewed in my final ranking at the end!

Read my full reviews of Plantopia, Merge Adventure and City Boom below:

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***

***

Plantopia: Merge Garden (Early Access)

Developer: Voodoo

Release Date: May 7, 2020 (Early Access)

This game is an interesting one because I only found it recently and started seeing ads for it recently although it’s apparently been around for about a year. I’m thinking it was soft launched and only recently made available in my region. The title screen indicates it’s still early access so that would make sense.

An initial release/soft launch date of May 2020 would actually make it older than Merge Mansion, which I believe was released in Sept. 2020. However I’m not sure about the exact timeline as they could have been in development/soft launched around the same time and the games are actually quite different overall so the basic similarities could be a coincidence.

This game truly amazed me because although it has the basic elements of what I would consider a Merge Mansion-like game, that being the two-item merge mechanic on a two-dimensional grid-like board viewed from the top, with item generators and item collection objectives, it’s otherwise very different from the other two-item merge games I’ve played. There are at least three separate boards, possibly more considering the tool shed and flower lab unlock a bit later in the game, and instead of completing objectives by getting items right off the board, you use items from the greenhouse and tool shed boards to start growing plants and then harvest the resources. The flower lab adds an additional step, as you can take the plants you’ve harvested to that board and merge them further to create bouquets and oils etc.

This game is probably the most complex and challenging out of all the two-item merge games I’ve played, which I think makes it more fun but less relaxing. Basically if I want something to play mindlessly while chilling out and watching YouTube videos I would play Merge Mansion or Merge Friends, but when I want to play something more advanced and for a longer period of time I play Plantopia.

🌼 Art: 3/3 (although I mostly prefer all 2D art, this game does the 3D/2D mixture better than some other games and I just love the colors and style of the different plants, boards and products. It all feels very “cottagecore” as the kids these days would say lol. The 2D character designs are also OK and pretty cute)

🌼 Story: 2/3 (it’s definitely a step above the “moving into this old mansion with my grandparents” story, I did get to know the characters a little better and some of the objectives are plot-related, such as growing aloe to help another character with his sunburn, or growing a special flower that reminds another character of her late husband etc. But I wasn’t really feeling like I wanted to learn more, and the storyline didn’t have a huge influence on my overall experience)

🌼 Gameplay: 5/5 (definitely the strongest game in terms of gameplay in my opinion, like I said it is more challenging and there’s more to think about but it makes for a really fun and varied experience!)

🌼 Variety: 2/3 (although there are three whole boards and you unlock different plants as you go along, there isn’t as much variety in the merging part since you basically just merge seeds into sprouts, sprouts into younger plants etc. until you have the full plant to place in a plot. You know exactly what you’re merging up to and there’s no thrill of discovering a new item by merging up. The items also come from boxes or from preset, unmovable generators so there’s no fun in discovering new generators either. But it is cool that each plant has its own planting requirements like more water, more fertilizer, more light etc.)

🌼 Playtime vs. Wait Time: 4/4 (another huge advantage of this game, there’s no energy system so you can play for very long, the only time constraint is waiting for plants to grow)

🌼 Overall Enjoyment: 4/5 (I’m definitely very impressed with this game but the things I mentioned in the Variety section are probably the biggest thing that prevents me from giving it a 5/5 overall. It is exciting when you unlock something new by progressing through the game but I especially enjoy moving up item ranks and discovering new generators, so in that area this game didn’t really do it for me. But otherwise it’s really a great game and a very unique entry within this genre!)

🌼 Total: 20/23

Merge Adventure - Dragons!

Developer: Ludigames

Release Date: March 25, 2021

First of all, even though the full name of this game includes the word dragons, I haven’t seen a single dragon unless one was mentioned in the written adventure logs, which I don’t usually read.

With that out of the way, this is another very unique game in terms of merge games as it is also an RPG. Some of the items you merge on the board are used to equip your hero, while others are used to unlock new adventures that yield different loot upon completion. You don’t actually get to engage in battles since the adventures themselves run on an idle system where you just get an adventure log to read to how your hero is doing and then collect the loot after a certain period of time. It is definitely something new for two-item merge games and deserves credit for the unique concept, but execution-wise it unfortunately fell short in a lot of ways.

🗡 Art: 1/3 (the art here isn’t necessarily awful but it is on the uglier side compared to a lot of the other games in this genre, specifically the board pieces. Maybe I’m biased because I prefer fun and colorful items, and these items involve a lot of wood and metal and such, but the board often seems so monochrome I can’t even tell certain items apart or remember which item track they belong to. Some of the level 1 items are just differently-shaped scraps of metal. The hero design isn’t bad but I only have one character to base that opinion on. We’ll get to that later)

🗡 Story: 2/3 (I honestly can’t remember if there’s an overarching plot but I will give it a point for the adventure logs, even though I usually don’t read them, it is cool that you can read what your character’s doing and how they obtained the loot they ultimately bring back)

🗡 Gameplay: 2/5 (I want to give it more points for being unique but despite the interesting concept I did have trouble with the gameplay. First of all, it has one of the smallest boards out of all the games I’ve played and a lot of different generators, which guarantees your board will become clogged very quickly. The numbers in the corners of each tile are supposed to help you keep track of what level items you have I presume, but they only make an already cluttered board look more cluttered, and the fact that I already couldn’t tell some of the item designs apart means having all the items crowded and jumbled makes for a very confusing and frustrating experience. Getting new items through loot from adventures seemed cool but then led to more frustration with more items to squeeze onto my fully packed board. Also I have no clue how to get more heroes, I’ve only had one this whole time playing so far, so there’s not much more to the RPG experience other than equipping more powerful items)

🗡 Variety: 2/3 (technically there’s a wide variety of items but as mentioned previously the very monochrome nature of the items makes the experience feel less varied and you can barely enjoy discovering new items when you’re just trying to find space on the board 90% of the time. Also, most of the item tracks just go: item, bigger item, bigger fancier item, biggest fanciest item, or, piece of item, more pieces of item, mostly put-together item, fully assembled item)

🗡 Playtime vs. Wait Time: 1/4 (your time is limited by the energy system, generators needing to refill AND waiting for your hero to return from an adventure)

🗡 Overall Enjoyment: 2/5 (sadly I didn’t really enjoy this game, although I guess my favorite part would be merging up weapons and other equippable items to make my hero more powerful, which isn’t something I could really do in any of these other games)

🗡 Total: 10/23

City Boom

Developer: Playwind Ltd.

Release Date: April 9, 2021

This game is very interesting as it’s the only merge game I’ve personally played that has you compete against other players. This game actually works pretty much exactly like a game I played loooooong ago called Coin Masters, where you gain coins by attacking or raiding other people’s bases while spending coins to build up your own base. The main difference here of course is that the other way to get coins is to merge items and complete requests, while in Coin Masters it was like a slot machine thing. I checked and they are not made by the same developer.

Anywho, the multiplayer aspect of this game was exciting since I definitely have a competitive streak, and I’ve been playing every day to try and climb up the leaderboard (I’m in the top 1,000 so far lol!) However this game is still new and pretty wonky, and it aggressively tries to get you to buy things, much more than any of the other two-item merge games. Also, this game is one of those games that’s very reliant on a constant internet connection so if you don’t have great internet (which I don’t) you will have a lot of issues with the game freezing, just a heads up.

💰 Art: 3/3 (I got to admit I’m a sucker for the cute, colorful and cartoony, and I just can’t get enough of the silly little cats in this game 😂 I appreciate that the 3D art style in this game is very consistent in all parts of the game, and this game also has 3D animated sections: for example, when you go to attack another player a cat rolls up in a little tank and rockets fly around)

💰 Story: 2/3 (there isn’t really a linear story but I give it a point for the different themed areas you progress through as you grow your town, plus the personality put into the cat characters)

💰 Gameplay: 3/5 (I do enjoy this game, especially the fact that I get to compete against other players, but there are a few issues. This game has a lot of limited time events, there’s seriously like 2 or 3 running at a time and seem to change every day, which does add some fun and variety, but creates a unique problem of having event-specific items on the board that I don’t know what to do with when the event ends. I don’t know if that event will come back again or if those items are just completely useless and should be sold now. Currently they’re just keeping my board very clogged. Also, this game really aggressively pushes overpriced microtransactions, which can get very annoying, but I will say that I was still able to play and enjoy the game a fair amount without paying anything. Lastly, the items make a really off putting clunk sound when they merge. May not seem important but it makes the merges less satisfying for me personally)

💰 Variety: 2/3 (There is a variety of event items but as far as the main items there’s very little variety, basically just four categories of items, so I put this in the middle)

💰 Playtime vs. Wait Time: 2/4 (what I like is that there are a lot of chances to get extra energy but what I don’t like is that rather than having energy refresh one at a time every few minutes, you have to wait like half an hour for all the energy to refill at once)

💰 Overall Enjoyment: 4/5 (honestly despite all my criticisms of it I kept coming back to this game, I really enjoy the competitive aspect and none of the problems with it are to the point where it seriously impedes my ability to play. That’s why I kind of have a separate category for overall enjoyment to begin with, because even if a game scores well or poorly in specific categories that won’t necessarily reflect my overall experience)

💰 Total: 16/23

Rankings

Plantopia (scored the same as Travel Town but after playing Travel Town for a while I’ve gotten more bored with it. Plantopia is the new reigning champion! 🎉)

Travel Town

Merge Design

Mergedom: Home Design

Merge Friends

Miss Merge

Merge Mansion

City Boom (scored the same as Merge Mansion but I preferred it less)

Merge Life (note: the linked review is outdated as the game has undergone a lot of updates since I wrote it, I will update it at some point but take the current version with a grain of salt)

Merge Matters

Merge Villa

Merge Adventure (scores the same as Merge Villa but I think I was a little harsh on Merge Villa to begin with, this game is much less playable)

Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope these reviews helped you if you enjoy merge games as much as I do! 💖 You can find more of my full game reviews here and follow me for more stuff about mobile games. Have a great day 🥳