#i feel like i am having some kind of a crisis. first of all i got sick AGAIN so i am at home coughing and not being able to breathe because

[wirefive]

days without crying over them counter: 0

[seenthisepisode]

.

[daeniradraconis]

Age Is Just a Number…Right? - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke. Age gap. Jack being a menace as usual, making sure you're not getting away that easy. Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, flirtation, age gap (6 years)

Note: Hey, lovelies! So, originally, this fic was all about Macklin Celebrini and Will Smith, but then I realized—Will is 19, and honestly, he’s just a baby to me. Even if he said he loves older woman. Boy go back to kinder garden. (Sorry Will, love you, I promise!) So, I decided to swap in the Hughes boys instead. I’ve gotta be honest, it gave me a bit of a headache. Now, this started as a quick, short fic. I swear, I had every intention of keeping it short. But, well… 7048 words later, here we are. I got hit with a ton of ideas and feelings, and the story just kind of... grew on me. You’ll probably notice the tone/style shifts halfway through, and I’m definitely sorry for that!

But hey, I hope you all enjoy it despite the wild ride! ❤️ For more fun: masterlist

The first thing you notice is warmth.

A heavy arm draped over your waist. The steady rise and fall of breath against the back of your neck. The scent of clean laundry, cologne, and something distinctly him clinging to the pillow beside you.

The second thing you notice—you are not in your own bed.

Your stomach flips as your brain reboots, sluggishly piecing together fragments of last night.

The blind date.

Luke.

His charming smile. The way his chestnut curls fell into his eyes when he laughed. The way he leaned in when you spoke, like you were the only person in the room. The teasing brush of his fingers against yours when he reached for his drink. The electricity that crackled between you when you finally caved—when he kissed you outside the bar, his hands firm at your waist, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then… more.

Your face burns as memory after memory floods in. His hands, his mouth, the way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

Carefully, you shift beneath the covers, untangling yourself from his hold. Luke stirs but doesn’t wake, his arm slipping away as you ease yourself upright.

That’s when it really hits you.

He looks so young.

His chestnut curls are a mess, his lips slightly parted, his entire face softened in sleep. He looks… peaceful. Innocent, almost.

A strange unease settles in your stomach.

Your gaze flickers around the unfamiliar room. It’s nice but lived-in—hockey gear shoved into the corner, a few discarded clothes on a chair. Your eyes land on the nightstand, where his wallet sits slightly open.

You don’t mean to snoop. You really don’t.

But something about last night nags at you.

Just a quick peek. Just to make sure.

Fingers trembling, you reach for it, flip it open.

And your heart stops.

Luke Hughes. Age: 21.

Twenty fucking one.

As in, young enough to still pull all-nighters for fun. As in, could still be in college.

And you? You are twenty-seven.

Oh. My. God.

Your hands fly to your phone as you furiously type out a message to your friend.

"WHAT THE HELL?! YOU SET ME UP WITH A 21-YEAR-OLD. I AM A GROWN WOMAN. I PAY FOR MY OWN HEALTH INSURANCE."

No response.

Coward.

Panic thrums in your veins as you stare at Luke—still peacefully asleep, completely unaware that you are having a full-blown identity crisis in his bed.

You need to leave. Now.

Right?

But for some reason, you hesitate.

Because Luke… Luke is the first guy in a long time who actually made you interested. Who made you laugh so hard you snorted into your drink. Who listened—really listened—when you talked, instead of just waiting for his turn to speak. And, well. The man or more like a boy, had managed to get you to orgasm. Twice!

Which, considering your track record, felt almost miraculous.

Your past partners had barely managed to get you there once—if at all.

And now you’re just supposed to sneak out of here like it never happened? Like he was just another bad decision?

Your stomach twists.

But then you glance at the wallet again. Twenty-one.

Yeah. You need to go.

Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, you scan the room for your clothes. Your shirt is on the floor, your jeans halfway under the bed. You grab them quickly, yanking them on with the precision of someone defusing a bomb. Bra? Found. Socks? One is missing, but you’ll live.

Once fully dressed, you tiptoe to the door. Your shoes. They’re outside the room. You remember kicking them off in the hallway.

One deep breath.

You ease the door open, peeking into the dimly lit living room.

Empty.

Good.

You take two careful steps out, eyes locked on your shoes near the front door. Almost there. Just a few more—

“Busted.”

You scream.

Not a blood-curdling horror movie scream, but a very real, very startled yelp that absolutely does not help you maintain any dignity in this situation.

Your body jolts like you’ve just been electrocuted, arms flailing wildly as you spin toward the voice.

There, sprawled across the couch, is a guy watching you like this is the best morning of his life.

Tall. Ridiculously handsome. Light brown hair, messy in a way that suggests he just woke up. Sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes filled with pure mischief.

And a smirk so unbearably smug that you immediately want to punch it off his face.

You clutch your chest, heart racing. “Jesus Christ, who the hell are you?!”

The guy grins wider. “Damn. Didn’t even recognize me? That hurts.”

“Am I supposed to?”You blink, still catching your breath.

His smirk falters for half a second before returning full force. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He tilts his head, studying you like you’re some kind of rare specimen. “You actually have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Why the hell would I?” Your frown deepens.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, like this is somehow the greatest tragedy to ever befall him.

“You’re telling me,” he starts, sitting up slightly, resting his arms on his knees, fully entertained, “that you came home with my brother, slept with him, and have no idea who we are?”

Your stomach drops.

Brother?

You knew Luke had brothers—he mentioned it—but you had no idea they were famous.

Your eyes flick toward the bedroom, then back to him. “You’re—wait, you’re one of Luke’s brothers?”

He snorts. “Wow. No recognition at all. That is humbling.”

“Should I recognize you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs, mock-offended, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I guess I’m only one of the most famous people in this city.”

You blink, a little thrown off. “…You’re a local weatherman?”

He chokes, eyes widening. “A what?!”

“You’re acting like I should know you,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t keep up with the news, but you definitely have the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.”

He definitely doesn’t. If anything, he looks more like a kooky stripper with an annoyingly fit body. But there’s no way you’re feeding his ego—this idiot would probably take it as a compliment.

For a split second, he just stares at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Then, as if the tension snaps, he howls—full-body laughter, throwing his head back and wiping a fake tear from his eye.

“Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the irritation bubbling up. “Glad I could contribute to your morning entertainment.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he says between gasps for air, leaning forward with an infectious grin. “This is amazing. Incredible. I live for moments like this.”

You raise an eyebrow, your patience wearing thin. “Moments like what?” you snap, unable to hide the rising edge in your voice. Honestly, you’re just relieved Luke didn’t inherit Jack’s over-the-top, obnoxious personality. If he had, you probably would’ve bailed on this blind date five minutes in.

“Moments where I get to witness something so spectacularly awkward, so painfully embarrassing, that it will sustain me for weeks.”

You glare at him with pure annoyance. “I hate you already.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch. That wounds me.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Oh, no doubt.” He smirks, and for a moment, it almost reminds you of Luke—though the two brothers couldn’t look more different. But that same confidante smile? It’s unmistakable. “Especially since I now have the upper hand in every conversation we ever have from here on out.”

“We’re never having another conversation after this!” You try to sound firm, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

He just grins wider, shaking his head like he’s heard that before. “That’s what you think.”

You exhale sharply, fed up with the entire exchange. “Look, I’m leaving. Forget you ever saw me.”

“Not a chance.” He leans back against the couch, thoroughly amused. “You’re trying to sneak out of my baby brother’s room like a damn criminal. This is gold.”

You scowl again. “I’m not sneaking out.” You fumble with your shoes, trying to get them on while defending yourself. Luckily, the hallway and living room are one open space, making your escape a bit less awkward.

“You literally just tiptoed past me like you’re starring in Mission Impossible.”

You groan. "I was trying not to wake him up." Rolling your eyes, you keep wrestling with your damn laces—of all times to betray you, it had to be now. Frustration bubbles up as you huff, "I need to go."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

You freeze mid-motion, exhaling hard through your nose. "...Just because."

"That's not an answer." His arms fold across his chest, his gaze pressing into you like he’s daring you to crack.

Your stomach twists. Heat rises to your face. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction—but the words rip out anyway.

“Because I just found out I slept with a 21-year-old, okay?! I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference! That’s a whole presidential term and a little extra! That’s a—”

You stop, realizing how ridiculous it sounds now that you're saying it.

Jack stares at you, blinking. There’s a long silence before you speak again, but his expression shows no understanding of the mental chaos you’re in.

You sigh and tug at your hair in frustration. “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought maybe he was older, and now… I just don’t know how to feel.”

Jack, for the first time, softens his teasing expression. But it’s clear he doesn’t quite get what you’re saying.

“Well,” he shrugs casually, “you’re still not leaving. You’re stuck here until Luke wakes up.”

“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, stubborn.

“Yes, you are!”

Before you can argue, you hear movement from the bedroom.

“Jack, why are you yelling?”

Shit.

You freeze.

Jack just grins wider.

You turn, and there he is—Luke, standing in the hallway, shirtless, hair an absolute mess, looking at you with adorable confusion.

Jack smirks. “Oh, you know. Just chatting with your date about how she was totally about to dip.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” Luke’s voice is a mix of confusion and hurt, and suddenly, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you.

You shift awkwardly, caught in the middle of it all. “I just… didn’t want to wake you.”

Jack snickers. “Translation: she found out you’re barely legal and panicked.”

Luke’s eyes flick to his nightstand, where his wallet still sits open.

“…Wait. Is this about my age?" He sounds confused—adorably so. Too adorably.

You open your mouth, but Jack is already cackling.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Jack says, shaking his head. “She took one look at that ID and nearly had a full-blown existential crisis.”

Your face flushes deep red. Jesus, you really can’t stand that blue-eyed bastard.

Luke blinks, then sighs, clearly frustrated a little bit. “So, last night was… amazing, but now it’s a problem because I’m 21?”

You shift uneasily. “It’s not a problem, exactly. It’s just…”

Jack grins mischievously. “Hilarious?”

You glare at him, a mix of embarrassment and irritation burning through you. “Not the word I was going for.”

Luke tilts his head, watching you closely. “Did it feel weird last night?”

Your face instantly flames. “LUKE.”

Jack cackles. “Ohhh my God, this is so good.”

Luke shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m just saying. You didn’t seem to mind my age when you were begging for—”

You lunge at him, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Jack, leaning in with barely contained joy, grins wider. “Oh, no, let’s hear it! This is the best! I live for this shit.”

You whip around, shooting daggers. “Do you really have to be here?”

Jack places a hand over his chest, feigning innocence. "Of course I do. I’m just the clueless bystander, watching your meltdown. It’s my duty as a brother. How else am I supposed to tease Lukey later?"

Luke licks his lips, glancing between you and Jack. “Wait… so you’re really freaking out over this?”

You sigh, your frustration starting to boil over. "I just… didn’t realize you were so young."

Jack snickers from the side, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, no, I think she’s just overthinking it. But hey, it’s cute.”

Luke shoots him a glare. “Jack.”

Jack raises his hands, completely unbothered. “I’m just here to state the obvious.”

You groan, feeling a headache start to form at the base of your skull. "Can I just… go? Please?" The words come out sharper than you mean, but you’re too tired to care.

Luke looks at you, his gaze softening with that same sleepy affection from last night. You almost hate how it makes your chest ache. "You really want to leave?"

You pause for a long moment, considering.

And truthfully?

No.

You don’t.

Last night wasn’t just a fling—it was Luke.

Luke, who had you laughing through dinner, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. He treated you like you were someone worth admiring, someone worth cherishing. And when he kissed you, it felt like the first rainstorm after a drought, washing away everything but the two of you.

And now he’s standing there, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your mind.

Jack, sensing the shift, leans back dramatically. “Ohhh, she’s thinking about it.”

You glare. “Shut up, Jack.”

Jack smirks like a little kid in the candy shop. “Nope.”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face with both hands, his puppy like eyes softening as he looks at you. "Alright," he mutters, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Let me make you breakfast before you decide I’m too young to function."

Jack perks up from the couch. “Oh, hell yeah. Stay. Luke makes a mean omelet.”

Luke shoots Jack a teasing glare, his eyes rolling in exasperation as he half-smirks. "Why are you even involved in this?" he says, clearly annoyed but with a playful edge, like he can’t decide if he should laugh or strangle his brother.

Jack shrugs dramatically. “Because I live for chaos.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at Luke as you battle the urge to stay or run.

“…Fine. One omelet.”

Jack fist-pumps the air. “YES.”

Luke grins like he’s already won. “Good. Because I was going to make you stay anyway.”

—

You don’t know how you ended up here.

One second, you were committed to sneaking out like a thief in the night. The next?

You’re standing in Luke Hughes’ kitchen, watching him move around with annoying ease, pulling eggs and cheese out of the fridge like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack, of course, is sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like the mischievous idiot he is.

“You look tense,” he observes, propping his chin in his hand and resting his elbows on his knees. “Regretting staying already?”

You shoot him a withering look. “I regret a lot of things. Letting you talk this morning is at the top of the list.”

Jack gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ouch. And here I was, being such a warm and welcoming host.”

You roll your eyes. “You ambushed me.”

Jack shrugs casually, sipping his coffee. “Semantics.”

Luke, bless him, doesn’t engage. He simply smirks to himself as he cracks an egg into a pan, clearly used to Jack’s shenanigans. “Jack, are you actually gonna eat, or are you just here to be annoying?”

“Oh, I ate already. I’m just here for the show.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You get some kind of thrill out of torturing me?”

He’s an asshole, but damn, he’s the kind of asshole that almost makes you laugh.

Jack flashes a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the chaos he's creating. "You're sharp. I like that. Smart women are way more fun to mess with." He leans back, arms crossed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as if he's already plotting his next move.

Luke huffs a laugh, the sound full of fond exasperation. He rolls his eyes, his messy hair falling into his face as he nudges Jack with his shoulder. “Just ignore him. He thrives on being a menace,” he says, shaking his head, but you can tell he's not actually mad.

Jack grins even wider, clearly proud of himself. “Yep. It’s what I do best,” he says, puffing out his chest like he’s just announced some kind of grand achievement.

You rest your elbows on the table, watching as Luke flips an omelet with impressive skill. “Okay, I’ll bite—how did you get so good at this?”

“Gotta learn some life skills when you live with Jack. Otherwise, you starve." He shoots his brother a pointed look, one that’s half annoyance, half fondness.

Jack scoffs, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been wronged. "That’s unfair. I provide entertainment." His voice is teasing, but there’s a clear twinkle in his eye.

Luke snorts, barely stifling a laugh. "Entertainment doesn’t make up for the fact that you once tried to microwave a frozen pizza."

Your head snaps up at that, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

Jack groans, cheeks flushing with a rare hint of embarrassment. "It was one time, and the oven took too long!" he mutters defensively, but you can see the red creeping up his neck.

Luke smirks, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gestures vaguely toward the stove. "You almost burned the apartment down," he points out, no trace of sympathy in his voice.

Jack waves a dismissive hand. "That’s an exaggeration," he says, clearly attempting to downplay the incident, but his voice betrays the tiniest hint of guilt.

Luke shoots you a sly look, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leans in, like he’s about to let you in on a secret. “The microwave was smoking,” he adds, his voice dropping low, the tone almost playful—like he’s about to drop some juicy gossip.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "Oh my God."

Luke, clearly pleased with the chaos he’s caused, gestures at Jack with the spatula like he’s just won some kind of victory. "See? This is why I learned how to cook."

Jack grins wide, unbothered. "And I get to reap the benefits, so really, we both win," he says with a cheeky shrug, as if his utter lack of skill somehow balances out Luke’s culinary expertise.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I don’t know how you put up with him."

Luke smirks,"It’s a daily struggle," he says, voice deadpan, but the small curve of his lips gives away the amusement he’s trying to hide.

Jack grins, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, the betrayal. I’m crushed,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though the smirk gives him away.

Luke just rolls his eyes and slides the finished omelet onto a plate before setting it down in front of you.

You look down at it, genuinely impressed by how perfect it looks. Then, you glance back at Luke, a little taken aback. "Not gonna lie… this looks really good."

Luke’s grin widens, his eyes briefly locking with yours, the kind of connection that makes the moment feel charged. "Told you."

You pick up your fork, still a little skeptical, and take a bite. Holy hell.

Your eyes go wide in surprise. "Oh my God. This is actually amazing."

Jack leans in, looking smug...again. "See? I wasn’t lying." He gives you a little wink, clearly basking in the moment like he’s somehow been proven right.

Luke smirks, pleased by the compliment. “I take my breakfast very seriously.”

“Clearly. This might be the best decision I’ve made today.” You shake your head, chewing.

Jack gasps dramatically. “Wow. So staying was a better decision than leaving?”

You pause, realizing what you just admitted.

Jack grins like he’s just scored a win, and for a second, you seriously consider wiping that smug look off his face.

Luke’s smile, however, is filled with pure happiness, as if this moment is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You sigh, stabbing your omelet. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Jack beams. “Absolutely not.”

Luke leans closer, his voice suddenly lower, more intimate. “I mean, I’m glad you stayed. It’s not every day I get a pretty girl in my kitchen, making my morning way more interesting.”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. His words hang in the air, electric.

“Oh, so now I’m ‘pretty,’ huh?” you tease, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart skips a beat.

Luke raises an eyebrow, a slow, confident smile curling on his lips. “Oh, I thought that was obvious.” His gaze flickers down to your lips, his voice dropping even lower. “You’ve been keeping me on my toes since I woke up.”

Your cheeks warm, but you force yourself to look away, focusing on your omelet. “Flattery won’t make me forget about you being 21.”

Luke’s grin widens, and he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe not. But I think it’s a pretty good start.”

Jack, completely oblivious to the flirtation unfolding right under his nose, leans back on the kitchen island with a self-satisfied grin. “God, I can’t believe I’m witnessing this. I thought I was supposed to be the one who charmed the ladies.”

Luke snorts, rolling his eyes at his brother but keeping his focus on you. “Jack’s the type to talk about it. I’m the type to show it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That was smooth. Really smooth.

You take another bite of your omelet, trying to hide the smile spreading across your face. “You sure you don’t just want me to stay for the food?”

Luke leans back, his gaze softening as he gently takes your left hand in his, his thumb slowly tracing circles over your knuckles. “I mean… if that’s your only reason for sticking around, I won’t complain,” he murmurs, a playful yet tender smile curving his lips. “But I like to think I’ve got more to offer than just my cooking skills.”

His words, along with the warmth in his eyes, wash over you like a wave, pulling you in deeper. You lock eyes with him, your breath catching as your pulse quickens. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it impossible to think straight.

Then Jack clears his throat loudly, and you break the spell, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s just caused. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone so you can finish your breakfast in peace. No need to make me a third wheel.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind. He just shrugs, unfazed.

“Good idea. Go entertain yourself, Jack.”

Jack winks. “Don’t mind if I do.” He stands up and heads for the door, adding, “You two just make sure to keep it PG—some of us don’t need to see that much chemistry before our coffee kicks in.”

You watch as Jack exits, still grinning like the mischievous brat he is.

As the door clicks behind Jack, the quiet of the kitchen settles in, leaving just you and Luke alone, the lingering tension between you two impossible to ignore. Luke shifts, his hands still resting on your hands as he pulls you gently into his lap. Your heart beats a little faster at the sudden closeness, but you refuse to let the thrill of it distract you from the conversation you know needs to happen.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes—eyes that are soft but hold that familiar spark of mischief, the kind that makes it hard to think straight. He tilts his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he runs his thumb over your hand, tracing slow circles. The warmth of his touch makes your breath hitch, but you bite your lip, determined to have this talk.

“Luke,” you start, your voice softer than you intended, “We need to talk about last night. About... us.”

Luke's expression changes, the playful gleam fading into something more intense. He doesn’t pull away, though. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and his voice drops an octave. “I thought we were past talking. I thought we were just... enjoying each other.”

His words make your pulse quicken, but you hold firm. You need to address this.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice steady, though your chest betrays you with its nervous flutter. “I need to know where this is going, Luke. You’re 21, I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference. I’ve been through more in my life. I want a family soon. I want stability. Not... something fleeting.”

Luke’s gaze darkens, and his thumb continues its slow, soothing motion over your skin, but there’s a new intensity in his eyes. He’s quiet for a moment, absorbing your words. The air feels thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of what you’ve just said hanging between you.

“You think I don’t want the same things?” he asks, his voice steady but with a sharp edge, not defensive—more... thoughtful. “I’m not some kid just looking for a fling. I’ve thought this through. I’m looking for something real. I’ve spent too much time in meaningless situations to want that anymore. I went to our date because I was looking for something serious. And my friend told me you’d be looking for the same thing.”

He lets your words settle, his eyes never leaving yours. “After spending the night talking with you, I felt like I wasn’t just talking to someone who’s interesting—I felt like I was talking to someone who gets it. Someone who’s looking for the same kind of connection. I’m not here for something that’ll fizzle out in a few weeks. I’m here because... I think you might be the person I’ve been waiting for.”

His words hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for. You’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond, but something stirs inside you. Something warm, something you didn’t expect. You can feel the truth of what he’s saying in your chest, and for the first time, you start to question the assumptions you’d made.

“Yeah, but you’re still figuring things out,” you say, your voice shaky now, a trace of worry creeping in. “You’re just starting out in life. Maybe you don’t want the same kind of commitment I do. I need someone who’s already ready to settle down.”

Luke doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slide up to your jaw, his touch firm but tender, like he’s grounding you to the moment. His gaze holds yours, no longer playful, but filled with something deeper. Something real.

“I’m ready for that,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of conviction. “I know what I want. And I want you. If you’re worried about my age, let me show you I’m more than just a number.”

His words are almost a whisper, but there’s a quiet confidence in them that sends a thrill through you. His lips are so close now, you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not asking for a lifetime yet, but I’m asking for the chance to prove myself. To prove that I’m capable of giving you the kind of future you want.”

You close your eyes, your breath catching in your throat. He’s not backing down, and the sincerity in his words leaves you no room to doubt him. But still, you can’t help but voice the doubts that swirl in your mind.

“I don’t want to get hurt, Luke,” you whisper, finally letting yourself admit the fear you’ve been pushing down. “I’ve been through enough heartache. And if you don’t want the same things I do, if you’re not ready for it... I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

Luke leans in just a little more, his lips brushing against your cheek before he pulls back slightly, his hands cradling your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his gaze. “I’m ready for you. Ready for everything that comes with it,” he says, his voice resolute. “I wouldn’t be here, sitting with you like this, if I wasn’t.”

You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. What you see instead is determination—an unspoken promise that, for all his age, he knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.

The air between you two shifts, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt, but filled with something new. Something that makes your pulse race.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Then show me.”

At that, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and slow, filled with all the unspoken things you’ve both been dancing around. His hands slide to your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. Your hands find their way to his curls, tugging him in as if you can’t get close enough. The world around you fades away—there’s only the feeling of his mouth against yours, the pressure of his body against yours, the shared certainty that whatever this is, it’s more than just physical.

When you finally pull away, both breathless, Luke grins, his forehead resting against yours. 

Luke leans back a little bit, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint as he watches you, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know," he says casually, his voice thick with satisfaction, "I have to admit... I’ve never had a night quite like that. You really know how to use that beautiful mouth of yours."

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you mean?"

Luke shifts a little closer, his grin widening. "Well, I’ve had my fair share of nights, but... last night? You...You were next level. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be that blown away."

You feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and flattery. "Really? Well, I kinda feel the same. I’ve never... finished two times in one night."

Luke’s eyes narrow in surprise. "What?! Baby, that wasn’t even that much. I think we can go for four or five next time." He winks, his tone playful, but there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You laugh, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Is that so? You really think you can keep up?"

Luke smirks, leaning in just a little closer, his voice low and confident. "Oh, I’m definitely up for the challenge. You just wait."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. "Maybe this whole 'young boyfriend' thing isn’t such a bad idea after all... Good stamina and all that."

Luke grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Told ya!" He leans in, planting a series of quick, soft kisses across your face and neck, each one sending a delightful shiver through your skin. You can't help but laugh at his actions, brushing your nose against his cheek as your giggles mix with his gentle kisses.

Just as you're starting to recover from his playful assault, a voice slices through the moment like an ice-cold splash of water.

"Can you drop the sex talk, guys?" Jack's voice rings out from the kitchen doorway, dripping with disgust but clearly amused by the whole situation. "I didn’t need to know this much about my little brother."

You freeze, eyes wide, before you turn to Luke, who looks utterly unfazed, that smug, victorious grin plastered across his face. It’s as if he’s just won some kind of prize, and he's wearing it like a badge of honor.

Embarrassment creeps up your neck, but before you can even process the awkwardness, you find yourself laughing. The tension dissolves in the shared amusement of the moment. Luke just shrugs casually, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Relax, Jack. It’s called maturity," you reply with a wink, and Luke chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

Jack groans dramatically, rolling his eyes. "You two are gross. And seriously, for the future, we need some rules. These walls are way too thin. I do not need to hear you two in action. Thank God I wasn’t home yesterday."

You let out a horrified gasp, hiding your face in Luke’s neck. "Jesus, Jack," you mumble, half laughing, half mortified.

Luke just keeps laughing, clearly entertained by the situation. "You heard nothing. Just a couple of adults figuring things out," he teases.

Jack mutters something under his breath before calling out with a playful, exaggerated gag. "God, I need to vomit. You two are so disgusting."

"Guess this means you're sticking around, huh?" Luke whispers against your mouth, his voice low and warm, sending another wave of heat through you.

You nod, content, leaning into him with a soft smile. "Guess so," you murmur, brushing your lips against his in return.

Jack, clearly fed up with the display, huffs dramatically and walks away with an exaggerated sigh. "You two are the worst."

As he exits, you look up at Luke, feeling that warmth in your chest—the comfort, the excitement, all mixed together. You can get used to mornings like this, even if it means dealing with Jack’s teasing. Or, you think with a smirk, maybe you’ll just strangle him in his sleep. Problem solved.

Luke catches the glint in your eye and chuckles, clearly knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Careful,” he says with a playful smirk, “I’d hate to lose my new favourite person just because you can’t handle my brother.”

You laugh, pulling him in for one last kiss.

Part 2

[mayakern]

A Note From Our Founder (and some other things)/ The World's Longest Newsletter

Hey, y’all. The past week has brought us a lot of extremes: first the fear, horror, shame and despair as we realized just how dire the business’ financial situation was… and then relief, gratitude, hope, joy—so many overwhelming feelings I don’t even have the words for them all. Y’all showed up for us in a big way and I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for that. Many of you have followed the store for years. You’ve watched as it’s grown—bloomed—and seen me do the same, as for better or worse, my identity and the business’ are so closely intertwined. So much of my life is invested in this little indie clothing brand that the prospect of it hurtling towards failure made me feel like I, too, was hurtling towards failure. But you all showed up and helped us avoid a huge crisis and for that I cannot even begin to say how thankful I am. How thankful we all are. Not only did sales rise to meet our crisis, but you showed us such an overwhelming amount of kindness—sharing our store on social media and with friends, offering us words of encouragement, telling us just how much you love our clothing and how much it has meant to you—that will touch me forever. We’re not quite out of the woods yet—our immediate payroll concerns have been addressed, but we’ll still have to get a bit scrappy and roll with the punches for the next few months, if not longer. But thanks to all of you, now our problems look solvable and not like unavoidable catastrophes. Thank you. Maya Founder/Co-Owner Maya Kern LLC

In case you haven’t heard, we’re still running our sale—almost everything in our store, including garments that were already put on clearance, are 20-50% off. Many items are being sold at or below the amount we paid to make them to help us recoup some of our production costs. Some of our buttery soft viscose shirts are as cheap as $9 right now! This sale will be ending Sunday night at midnight US central time, so don’t miss it!

Also, we heard from y’all that our store’s auto region detection was buggy as heck, so for your convenience we’ve added a “Store Location” drop down to the top of our store page. Many of our items are already sold out in the US, but some of those sold out garments are still in stock in Canada.

We’ve heard y’all loud and clear—many of y’all have asked us when our petticoats will return and have also suggested that we run some preorders to help us secure funds for production. So from January 16th at 12pm Central to January 30th at 12pm central, we’ll be running preorders for our much loved petticoats! For those of you unfamiliar with our petticoats, they are a lightweight, sensory friendly under layer that adds the perfect amount of volume under our midi skirts. While many petticoats cut corners by either offering only a limited size range or by stacking layer upon layer of scratchy, flimsy tulle to create the desired volume while growing heavier with every added layer, our petticoats use fewer layers of a stiffer, higher quality tulle that maintains its volume under the weight of a skirt. Because all tulle regardless of quality can be quite scratchy, we also added a satin slip as the base layer of our petticoats to make sure that they are sensory friendly and non-irritating.

This time they’ll be available in classic black and lovely blush. We’ll also be offering a small discount to anyone who buys a petticoat during preorders. (Please keep in mind that the blush petticoat photos are mockups and so the final color may be slightly different)

And lastly, if you’ve made it this far, we have some production news! I could not be happier about how much y’all have loved the cozy matcha set—they’re already sold out in the US (tho our Canada store still has a few left!). Creating this loungewear set has been on my bucket list for so long and I am ecstatic that y’all share my love for them. Thanks to how good the sales have been, we’ve been able to plan more cozy sets for later this year, even though they are quite expensive to make. First up will be a spring/summer version with short sleeves and shorts. These will have a different, less warm interior but will still be made of 100% cotton.

I have some ideas rolling around for a new cozy set or two for the end of 2025, but I’ll just let y’all stay curious about that. In truth I am so excited about the next winter concept that I can hardly bear to keep the secret, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

Thanks so much for reading and have a great rest of your day!

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[keepthedelta]

okay it's kinda specific but is there any brocedes fact that is often overlooked but you think that is essential (or perhaps gives a new approach) to the lore?

that's such a good question. i have several, i hope you don't mind

the first one is the "he'll always be my best friend in my heart" quote. i've seen a lot of people use it as a very earnest declaration etc. (or if they believe in the nico is obsessed with lewis shit as a sign of that) but it was actually nico making a joke when he was doing commentary (on the italian comms i think). he was asked a question about lewis and jokingly/sarcastically said "in my heart he'll always be my best friend", and then immediately clarified that it was a joke (maybe recognising the narrative that would be spun around it). i know this seems kind of anti-brocedes but i do think it is essential to the lore that people recognise nico is not a weird as fandom likes to make out. he's absolutely weird, and he's definitely not normal about lewis, but he's not obsessive, and he feels comfortable enough making jokes about them. when you contrast that with lewis who either refuses to say nico's name in conversations where he is the most relevant person (the better teammates than max interview) or brings him up unnecessarily and then panics about it (grill the grid), i think it changes the dynamic of who is yearning, who is "over it", who is winning the idgaf war (it's neither of them but the difference is lewis lost by playing and nico is open enough about giving a fuck that he's not pretending to play). i am biased, but i also think that if you look back at them during their careers, lewis was always weirder about nico than nico was about him, although again, neither of them can truly be described as normal about each other.

then there's nico beating lewis in the 2004 f3 series that they shared. the narrative of brocedes describes it as lewis always beating nico, lewis being the one to win and nico always being slightly behind. and largely this is true. but in 2004 they were both competing in the 2004 f3 european series, albeit for different teams. neither of them won, but nico narrowly beat lewis. now they were in different teams and nico himself has said that some teams had better cars and equipment than others and that made a difference in the end result. but, nico still beat lewis. he had nearly double the number of dnfs/dns (6 to lewis's 3) and triple the number of wins (3 to lewis's 1), finishing highest of all the entrants who eventually made it to f1 (nico himself, lewis, adrian sutil and robert kubica). but nico himself barely seems to remember this. the narrative of lewis always being better, always beating him, is something he seems to have internalised, even though it isn't quite true, or at least, not as true as people make out.

my third bit of lore is that mclaren wanted to sign nico for the 2008 season. following the drama of fernando alonso (affectionate) and spygate, mclaren had an open seat and ron dennis wanted to fill it with nico. he even offered to buy out nico's contract from williams, but frank williams viewed nico as their best hope and refused. the driver that eventually ended up replacing fernando was heikki kovaleinen, nico's gp2 rival and 100% finnish to his 50% (yes nico's national identity crisis does come into this). lewis ended up winning the championship that year. heikki took only 1 victory, and while i think lewis would have beaten nico, i think nico wouldn't have been a doormat for him like heikki, and would have won at least a couple of races, which would have allowed felipe massa and ferrari to succeed. in many ways i think an argument can be made that nico not getting that mclaren seat really helped lewis to win his first championship, in the same way that if lewis hadn't gone to mercedes, nico would have won three, or if nico had stayed, there is a very real possibility that sebastian vettel would have won 2017. their presence and their success dooms the other, and it always has.

my final thing is that they are the most successful teammate pairing in f1 history. it kind of links back to the last one, where the fact that they are each as good as they are hurts the other one, unlike a lewis and valtteri line up or a michael and rubens line up where there is a distinct number one driver and the other one is to be sacrificed for him. but, even though both of those pairs were together for longer (nico and lewis aren't even in the top 5 longest teammate pairings), it takes more than a number 1 number 2 driver lineup to be the most successful. it takes nico and lewis, who are both number 1 drivers (don't come for me on this, nico would have flattened the likes of valtteri, rubens, or mark webber and you know it). although they were only teammates for four years (and one of those was a sebastian vettel/red bull dominance year) they achieved more pole positions, front row lockouts, wins, podiums, and 1-2 finishes than any other pairing in f1 history. they were utterly, utterly dominant, and that's why they hurt each other so badly. they were the dream team, the absolute best f1 could come up with, but they weren't just competing as a team, they were competing against each other, and only one of them could win

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Even More Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs

I've discovered some amazing new authors since my last post! And writers I've already recced have published more great stories So here's another fic rec post!

Who? You mean your teammate in the Codependency World Cup? (series) by RoseGanymede95

I couldn't chose! They're all great! Basically a series of Edwin and Charles through the years and on cases pre-show. It scratches that adjusting-to-being-dead/newly-escaped-from-Hell itch and the authors writing is magic! It also fleshes out a really interesting conflict in the payneland dynamic: Charles' drive to protect Edwin at all costs clashing with Edwin's guilt over putting Charles at risk/depriving him of some ideal afterlife. Parts one and four also introduces Constantine/Johanna and part three revolves around an absolutely gut-wrenching temporary break-up. 😢

In Hell I'll Be in Good Company by laylabinx

Charles rescuing Edwin from Hell does not go smoothly. Just. Bucketloads of Trauma for both of them. And for you, the Reader. It's so good though!

your fangs in my neck (like an anchor like a vow) by shadowquill17

Vampire Edwin AU! It's great because it combines the (homo)eroticism of vampiric feeding with Charles' whole bisexual crisis and post-confession Edwin worrying about making Charles uncomfortable. Also Charles is some kind of demigod/immortal agent of divine vengeance which is an AMAZING detail and I desperately want to see some fanart!

The same author's ongoing story to the pain is also excellent though very angsty (cw temporary character death). I'm anxiously waiting for an update!

To Memory Now I Can't Recall by engineering_madonna

This is an amnesia fic and the most recent in an established relationship series. The first two installments feature the boys getting together and navigating their new relationship, so pulling the old 'character A forgets their whole romantic relationship with character B' trope hits especially hard! The whole series is lovely, but I am WEAK for temporary-amnesia.

Lemonade & Sunrises by paraph

A Quiet Place AU! The boys are alive, but they're the only ones. Very bleak but in a way that makes me want more!

1999 au (series) by websters_lieb

The boys figure their shit out in the 90s. Also, Edwin gets to read Maurice and queer theory. The cases in both stories are compelling and the author's writing and characterisation of the boys are excellent.

I also recommend offer me that deathless death which is about the boys' first meeting, Charles' funeral and the birth of the agency.

if I could reach the stars (i'd give them all to you) by ObsessedWithFandom

Charles falls first, Edwin falls harder. This is an AU of the author's excellent Charles' bisexual awakening fic, which I also highly recommend. It has lovely OCs and Charles having a sweet little friendship/romance with the boy he saved in canon, which actually makes his death a whole lot more tragic.

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary

Charles and Edwin get caught escaping Hell and promise to capture a demon-eating ghost called The Deathless in exchange for their freedom. With the added twist that they get to be alive again! An exciting case, high stakes and all the alive-again culture shocks and emotional/interpersonal drama you could ask for.

gig officially gigged by laiqualaurelote

Band AU! It shouldn't work but it does. Which might also be an in-universe review for the band tbh. Idk, I loved Edwin's massive obscure musical instruments and Charles being his unpaid roadie. Peak Found Family Feels.

No Rehearsing It, No Reversing It by DontOffendTheBees

Charles overthinks being in love with Edwin, my beloved. This time with increasingly flimsy pretexts for why they NEED to kiss. Just perfect Idiots in Love, no notes.

The Case of David Bowie's Made up Sexuality by williamvapespeare

The agency attempt to help a living lesbian couple deal with a haunting. Meanwhile, Charles struggles through his bisexual (re)awakening. With bonus past (living) Charles no-homo-ing himself to the nth degree. Pure of heart, dumb of ass, indeed.

The lamps are going out by CasiHuman

Vengeful Spirit Edwin AU! Has some interesting ghost lore and Edwin being convinced his touch is painful to Charles (love that trope!). Also features some of the author's adorable/hilarious fanart at the end.

just frame the halves (and call them brothers) by Anonymous

Crystal stumbles upon the ghost of Edwin's older brother, who hires the agency to free him and his platoon from the battleground they've been haunting. Case fic with interesting details about Edwin's family life and an awkward as hell family reunion.

the case of the very long ferry ride by obsceme

Sex pollen but with skin hunger, so it's more touching turned making out and hand jobs in a bathroom. Interesting use of ghost lore and it's cute and well written.

Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all

Charles Rowland's Love Language is Acts of Service: The Fic. So many feels! Plus Afterlife worldbuilding and some quality Night Nurse rep.

don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me) by Hephanna

The boys and Crystal accidentally summon an alternate universe version of Charles. He's very... handsy. Charles being jealous of himself is objectively hilarious and it looks like it could be heading towards throuple territory. Possibly even a foursome, if alternate Edwin figures out parallel universe travel. Which he probably will.

Still a Better Lovestory by Vamillepudding

Hanahaki disease! Charles is on the case but Edwin's being weirdly uncooperative about his own curse. I loved the worldbuilding (there's a whole sisterhood of washerwomen!) and the angst, plus the writing is excellent.

The author has also written Eternal Sunshine, in which Edwin is cursed to feel no love of any kind. It makes for an interesting character study, contrasting cursed Edwin, his public reserve and his actual personality.

[fansids]

Shadow of the King Au Art Dump

Since I very rarely get past the sketching phase any presentable art is rare, but I managed to find some for ya'll

Warning for some old ass art:

1. The Stalwart Generals

I spent an ungodly amount of time figuring out the designs, dynamics, and personalities of all of these monkies so I'll be damned if I don't show them first.

The Generals take care of anything SWK is unable to. They are in charge of FFM when he's not present.

Marshal Ma - While technically all the generals are the same rank, Marshal Ma is considered SWK's unofficial second in command. She's calm in every crisis with a very low bs tolerance and is 75% of the reason why the island doesn't fall to chaos every time SWK leaves. She's highly respected by all the inhabitants and can and will break your spine Bane style if the situation calls for it.

Marshal Liu - Mean bisexual. Marshal Ma's sister and the bane of her existence. On duty she takes her role very seriously. Off duty she likes to keep Ma on her toes with her dumbassery. She's easy going, hates clothes, and loves to fight. She has a slightly concerning amount of knives on her person at all times. She is big gay for General Beng.

General Beng - Meaner lesbian. A siamang and the largest and tallest of the generals. She enjoys dressing up, tea (both kinds), and a good party. She has a very short fuse. While her size and strength alone would generally deter anyone from testing her temper, there are always idiots. She can fight, but she knows her Liu would enjoy it more.

General Ba - The youngest of the generals. While she's not shy, she is very quiet. She does not waste her words. But, when she speaks, the others will stop whatever they're doing to listen. She likes to spend her free time in the libraries. Get her in the right mood and she'll argue with you for hours about the most random subjects.

.

2. Macaque face evolution

Was trying to get a feel for Macaque's face and how it changes throughout the au. Top right is the youngest, bottom right is the oldest. Bro gets all sorts of messed up from the whole died and resurrection thing and very much looks wrong afterwards.

.

3. New fit

Macaque and SWK have the whole cape thing going on, I figured SWK gave Mac one of his own when he was still training under him. I like to think it holds a lot of sentimental value to him since he still wears it in present day but he would rather get his head smashed in again than admit it.

.

4. I'm sure this won't come back to bite anyone later

Eeesh. Imagine spending your whole life training to receive and keep the Sun Wukong's attention only for him to casually give it to some random human boy thousands of years later. I mean, Macaque did betray him and everything, but it's the principle.

.

5. The Tongbi Gibbon Concepts

One of the four world-wrecking/celestial monkies. My brain was very focused on the whole pulling celestial bodies out of the sky part of her abilities that I made her based around that line.

Don't know if this fit is still canon as she and the Horse Monkey had a large role to play in Shadow of the King, and I'm considering if I should take them out

.

Bonus:

I consider the Tongbi gibbon and the Horse Monkey to be older than both Sun Wukong and Macaque in Shadow of the King. The Horse Monkey is the eldest, but the Tongbi's age is nothing to sniff at.

That being said, that does not mean she can't be bought.

Takes place after all the traumatizing shit in SotK

Panel 1

Tongbi: Child, I am an ancient being. I hold the power of gods within me. I was witness to the birth of the Great Sage himself. I have seen nations and empires rise and fall. I have gathered and spent innumerable wealth. Yet you think you can bribe me with 20 yuan?

Panel 2

The host: ...how 'bout 30?

Panel 3

Off-panel (Horse Monkey): TONGBI!!

MK: I thought the nimbus made you airsick

Red Son: Not helping, Noodle Boy

Tongbi: BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!

[grogwrites]

Frost on the Pines - D.R. 3

~

Summary: After being dropped by RB, Daniel finds himself in Midwest America amidst a midlife crisis, when he meets an intriguing stranger

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Fem OC

CW: just some swearing, very slight suggestive content (blink and you’ll miss it), depictions of an anxiety attack, dual POV, and some angst, but generally just fluff. I absolutely hate YN, so for the sake of the fic, I used the name from my book which is Sadie. You can imagine how you please, though.

A/N: my first fanfic!! Please be kind 🥹🩵 I am an author on the side and am currently writing an F1 romance book. This fic is essentially a one shot/fanfic version of my book hehehe * no part 2 to this one

Word Count: 5.3k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

~

Daniel didn’t mean to get lost.

Well, okay, maybe he did, but not this lost.

He had been driving down this dirt road for what seemed to be hours, but each time he glanced at the clock on his car radio, only a handful of minutes had passed. There wasn’t a landmark in sight—nothing but grasslands with the occasional cow or two as he drove. Finally accepting defeat, Daniel pulled the rental car off to the side of the road and promptly shifted it into ‘park’. He dug for his phone in his pocket, when much to his dismay, there was no cellphone service.

“Of course,” he let out a soft scoff to himself as he discarded the device on his passenger seat. Running a hand through his hair, he began sorting through his options.

1. On one hand, he could keep driving. He filled up with gas not too long ago in a small town with only one gas station. He had enough in his tank to last him through another few hundred miles.

2. On the other hand, he could turn around and head back to that town where he would have cell service again to call someone—anyone—for help.

The prior sounded much more appealing to him than the latter. Daniel wasn’t sure he had the dignity in him to ask for help when he made the decision to go off the grid to begin with. It was bad enough that RB dropped him, but now he was lost. Figuratively and literally. Formula 1 had been his life for thirteen years. While the posts that fans were sharing online were bittersweet and heartfelt, he couldn’t help but feel sick to his stomach as the reality of his situation settled in.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

He needed to calm down, but his chest felt tight. He felt hot, and cramped—like the world was slowly caving in on him. He didn’t even remember when the tears started welling up in the corners of his eyes, but when his lips grew wet and tasted salty was when the floodgates suddenly burst. He fumbled for the handle on his door, stumbling out in a desperate need for fresh air. In a heated fit of rage and anxiety, he kicked the car a few times. He didn’t hear the pickup truck slowing beside him until an older gentleman called out to him.

“You need a hand?”

Daniel was quick to dry his face of any sort of evidence that he had been crying, then turned to look at the stranger. He was older, probably in his early eighties. His face was wrinkled, with a full grey beard on display. He wore a tattered, old cowboy hat with a red flannel and a pair of jeans. His window was rolled down, while a soft, unfamiliar country song played inside.

“Um, no,” Daniel’s voice was hoarse from crying. He tried to cover it up by clearing his throat, though it didn’t do much. “The car is fine. I’m just—“ his voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say, especially to a stranger.

“Where are you headin’?” The man’s voice had a thick, Midwestern-American accent as he spoke.

“Nowhere,” Daniel shrugged, leaning against the rental car. “Just…away.” The man laughed gruffly, when Daniel heard him shift the truck into ‘park’.

“Away from…what, exactly?” The man asked.

Now, Daniel knew he shouldn’t trust the strange man so easily. But something about him felt safe; like he was actually there to help. It brought ease to his mind knowing that the man didn’t know who he was—or didn’t seem to know, anyways. He needed a break from recognition.

“Life, I guess,” Daniel answered sheepishly. “I don’t know where I am—literally, that is. I just got the rental car and drove, but I drove a bit too far.”

“Hmph,” the old man grunted, as if to judge him for his reckless decision. Daniel knew it should irritate him, but instead it warmed his heart. It felt like home a bit, having his dad harness a similar reaction whenever he would say or do something stupid (which, quite frankly, happened often while growing up). “I’ve got a farm just a few miles down the road. Why don’t you follow me there? I’ll fix you up some lunch—you can stay as long as you need.”

.

Sadie wasn’t sure what she was expecting when her grandfather returned to the farm, but it certainly wasn’t a second vehicle—or the stranger who drove the vehicle. It wasn’t beyond her grandpa to try and sell the farm, as he had done on several occasions now; each one was intervened successfully by her. The family farm, as much of a headache as it was to maintain, held too much sentimental value to her to watch him just try to pawn it off to a rich bastard who didn’t know the first thing about caring for a farm.

“My favorite girl!” Her grandfather beamed as he and the stranger made their way towards the barn, where she was currently feeding a bottle to a baby calf. She smiled at first, not seeing the man behind him.

“Hey,” she responded softly before turning her attention towards the animal again. The calf was sick earlier in the week, so having it finish off a bottle of formula was a win in her book. “She’s better. Not one hundred percent, but she’s eating.” Her grandpa bent over, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“We have a guest,” he announced. She glanced over her shoulder again, now noticing the tall stranger behind him. His dark curls seemed a bit disheveled. He had a five o’clock shadow growing in along his jawline. A few tattoos made themselves known on his arms and legs as he shifted his weight behind him. She frowned, turning her gaze back to her grandpa.

“What’s going on?” She questioned. As the calf finished her bottle, she stood from the small stool she sat on. “You’re not trying to sell again, are you—“

“Not at all,” he quickly interrupted. “Just being a Good Samaritan. The young gentleman is simply passing through.”

Her and the stranger shared a moment, each staring back at each other. It felt like they were trying to figure the other one out—like studying a book, or unraveling a mystery of sorts. Though, when their gazes met, his shoulders seemed to sink—like a weight was lifted off of him. His eyes cleared from a cloudiness that she didn’t even realize was in them to begin with. She knew him from somewhere, but she couldn’t place where from. His jaw clenched the longer her gaze lingered. Whoever he was, she had a bad feeling about this. He needed to leave. Change was hard on Sadie, but it was even harder on the farm.

“For how long?” She finally interrogated. She took a step towards him, becoming defensive. “What’s your name?”

“Sadie…”

“Um, it’s Daniel,” the stranger quickly interrupted her grandpa as he stepped forward, offering her his hand. “But most people call me Danny.” His Australian accent was a surprise. Not many Australians traversed the South Dakota plains, but then again, hardly anybody did in general.

“How long will you be here?” Sadie asked again, refusing his handshake. His arm lowered once more as he cleared his throat. Her grandpa stepped forward, placing himself in between them.

“He will stay as long as he needs,” he told her sternly. “This is still my farm at the end of the day, Sadie.”

She could laugh, but that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Sure, his name was on the paperwork; but he didn’t do jack shit to help her half the time. She didn’t bother trying to ask him, either. It wouldn’t be fair. He was getting too old to do most of the work around here, but still—she was tired. Her gaze trickled back to Daniel.

“Do you know how to milk a cow?” She asked him, with a passive aggressive lilt to her tone. Despite her abrasive demeanor, Daniel smiled.

“I know a thing or two,” he responded softly, which almost perfectly evened out her negativity. “I’ll do whatever. Just ask, and I’m there.”

.

It had been about a week since Daniel arrived at their little farm, and he was obsessed with her from the moment they met. At first, he followed her around like a pathetic puppy—eagerly learning all the ins and outs of their daily chores. She had scolded him on a few occasions for not listening, but she didn’t know it was because of her. He was so distracted by her all the time, but by watching her, he quickly learned all of her little quirks: the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, how she would sway her hips to an inaudible song that only played in her head, how wine typically made her emotional, how her heart had a soft spot for the horses…there was so much to her that made his own heart stutter. Unfortunately for Daniel, she still didn’t seem too fond of him in return. He really couldn’t blame her, either; she had a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders, and to have an additional mouth to feed thrown into the mix certainly didn’t make life easier. That was why Daniel came up with the perfect plan. Hypothetically, the plan was easy. Executing it? Not so much. It’s been a while since he tried to pursue anybody romantically, so he felt quite a bit of pressure to make sure this was perfect. She seemed to hate him enough as it was, and he didn’t want to add gasoline to that fire.

The morning of his plan execution started off relatively normal. Usually, Sadie would be awake at the crack of dawn to make eggs, bacon, and pancakes for everyone. But today, Daniel was awake sooner. Just as he was finishing the bacon, he heard her shuffle into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

He looked over his shoulder at her. She still wore her pajamas, which was a sight he had yet to be graced by. Her grey sweatpants and white camisole could’ve made his heart explode. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun, that was now messy due to her falling asleep in it.

“Breakfast,” he held up the hot skillet to show her, before setting it in the sink to allow the grease to harden. “Are you hungry yet?” She was quiet, which he couldn’t tell if she was grateful or angry at him.

“What time did you wake up?” She questioned. Her voice was still groggy. She was so cute. He pushed his thought aside as he glanced at the clock. 5:45am.

“Um, four, I think?” He looked back to her. “I wanted to make breakfast for you all—to thank you.” She hugged her arms around herself, as if she had suddenly become aware that she was still in her pajamas. She shifted her weight to her right leg, leaning against the old, wooden doorframe. Daniel’s mind began to race—he could hardly keep his thoughts straight right now. This was the longest they seemed to have spoken since he arrived, and it was civil. He felt like a boy on Christmas.

“That is…” she trailed off, completely caught off guard by his gesture. So far, his plan was off to an excellent start. “Thank you. That’s really nice.” Daniel reached for a paper towel to dry his hands. He turned to face her, then leaned against the counter.

“It’s really the least I can do,” he commented slowly, making sure she understood that he meant it. “You have all done so much for me. If your grandpa hadn’t driven by me that day…I’m just not sure I’d be in as good of a place. You know?”

“Who are you, exactly?” She countered, leaving no beat or moment of hesitation. Daniel inhaled deeply, wondering if he really wanted to tell her or not. He was enjoying not being known—not being recognized. It had to be hard for her, though, to justify a total stranger staying there.

“That’s complicated,” Daniel dropped his head as he laughed, but struggled to find the words. There was a deep pit of guilt in his stomach. He knew he needed to tell her, but he didn’t want to. “Um, well, my name is Daniel—but you know that already…” That prompted a smile from her. A genuine one, too��not a phony sympathetic or sarcastic one that she typically offered him. He caught his breath.

“I mean, like, where did you come from?” She rephrased. She walked over, then leaned against the counter next to him. Her arm lightly brushed against his, which could’ve killed him on the spot. He was grateful that her attention went to the wall in front of them, rather than his face, as his eyes began trailing down her body. She had faint freckles that dotted from her cheeks to her collarbones, with a few outcasts on her arms and hands. If she never got this close to him, he probably would’ve never noticed them. “Who are your parents? What do you do for work? Stuff like that.”

“Ah,” he laughed again, but this time it was strained. Her attention averted back to him. He folded his arms across his chest, then sighed. “I’m from Perth, Australia. But I used to travel the world quite a bit for work. I’m not stranger to the states, but I’m a stranger to South Dakota.”

“Getting paid to travel the world?” Sadie hummed dreamily. Her voice was softer than he had ever heard it before. It typically held an accusatory, aggressive tone to it, but now? She sounded like an angel—more than she already did. “What kind of job grants you that privilege?”

“One I no longer have,” Daniel nudged her slightly, trying to play it cool. But in reality, there was a swarm of butterflies filtering through his arms, his legs, his chest…he knew if she asked, he’d do anything for her. It felt silly, but when he first saw her a week ago, all the noise from his reality seemed to vanish. There was nothing, now, except the quiet hum of the wind and the bright song of the birds that chirped around the property.

.

When the chores for the day were done faster than normal, Sadie knew Daniel was up to something. Between waking up before her to cook and beating her to her own work, she could sense he planned this…whatever this was. Their dynamic around the farm was like a jigsaw puzzle to her, except none of the pieces went together. It was like a plethora of memories and emotions that clashed—that didn’t make sense together—but still made a beautiful picture at the end of the day. When late afternoon rolled around, she found him in the vegetable garden with the farm dog, Lucky, picking a few tomatoes. He was talking to Lucky in a baby voice, before laughing at the retriever’s reaction. He was always so happy—so nice. She didn’t think there was ever a moment he wasn’t smiling. She paid attention to him even in moments when he didn’t think anyone was watching. She’s picked up on a few of his traits, or the things he does when he thinks he’s alone. Sometimes he’ll start dancing when doing a job he particularly enjoys—shucking the corn, riding the tractor, feeding the cats. Other times, he’ll talk to himself when working through a rather difficult job such as repairing the riding lawn mower or grooming the horses. But through all the horrible jobs that came with the farm, she’s never seen him get upset. Each thing she asked of him, he happily completed.

As she continued to observe him, he looked up at her from the tomato plant. His grin grew wider…if that was even possible. He hurriedly dropped the last few vegetables into the small basket he had, then dusted the dirt off of his shorts.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, quickly jogging over to her. Lucky trailed behind, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth happily. Clearly the dog loved him, judging by the look of utter admiration in his eyes as he stared up at the Australian. “Since we are done early, I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight?”

“Like what?” Sadie questioned, furrowing her eyebrows. Definitely up to something, she reminded herself. “I don’t get off this farm very often…”

“I know,” he smiled. “I was thinking we could go dancing?”

Dancing. Sadie had mixed feelings about the idea. More so, she had mixed feelings about dancing with him specifically. She couldn’t quite tell what Daniel’s intentions were behind this, but judging by the hopeful glisten in his eyes, she thought that maybe—just maybe—this could be a date. She hadn’t been on a date since high school, and she wasn’t completely sold on having the first one be with him. Sure, breakfast was a nice gesture, along with the chores…but there was still so much about him that she didn’t know. She didn’t know his last name, for crying out loud. She’d be lying, though, if she said the mystery didn’t excite her even a little bit.

“Dancing?” She repeated, primarily for confirmation from him. He reciprocated with a small nod. She licked her lips, thinking of how to respond. If this was how he wanted to play, then maybe she could pry some more information out of him. “Tell me more about yourself, first—then I’ll go out with you. How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” Daniel laughed, which—even though she’d never admit it aloud—was a sound she was beginning to grow fond of. His laugh was intoxicating. It was enough to make her smile, even if she didn’t think the cause of his laughter was funny.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” he teased in response. “I really don’t think you’d be my first choice, though. I’ve got a list to work through, first. Then maybe I’d consider you.” Sadie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight off the smile that was slowly being painted across her lips.

“What’s your last name? Can I have that much at least?”

“Ricciardo,” he answered, without missing a beat. “Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Okay,” she took a few steps closer to him. As she did so, she could see a faint tint of red wash over his cheeks. “Wasn’t so hard, right? Now, what time are we going dancing?”

.

There was only one bar in her small, South Dakotan town. She couldn’t remember if it had a name, frankly, because the sign had disappeared years ago as a result of a senior prank. It wasn’t a fancy joint by any means, but on a Saturday evening like this, it still managed to feel crowded. She sat next to Daniel at the bar, watching him intently as he finished off his beer. A disgusted expression seemed to wash over his face, prompting a laugh from her in response.

“You got something against Bud Light?” She teased before pressing the glass to her lips. The Aussie gagged exaggeratedly, before smiling.

“It’s cheap beer,” he explained. “It just reminds me of high school. Though, I’ve become a bit spoiled with my expensive palette.” Sadie’s eyes widened at his cockiness. Was he really insinuating he was rich? She was dying to know what he did for work, but that was the only question of hers that he was continuously dodging. She played with the idea that he was a drug dealer, but he didn’t seem like the type. Then again, her only reference to go against that theory were the mafia dealers in her romance books that she read every night.

“Expensive how?” She finally managed to ask. “Like, what, Monaco expensive? Dubai expensive?” Daniel shook his head in amusement, before standing from the bar. Once again avoiding the question, he sauntered over to the source of the music—the bar’s beaten up jukebox. She took a swig of her beer again, observing him as he flipped through the log of song choices on the screen. He had changed before they left the house into a black t-shirt that seemed to hug his body in all the right places. The dark wash jeans he wore with it just tied it all together. Sadie quickly finished off her beer, trying to evict the admiration from her mind. He was still a stranger with unknown intentions. She couldn’t fall for his act that quickly—it would be rather pathetic if she did.

She didn’t know how Daniel knew what her favorite song was but when the jukebox clicked to the next song, she immediately knew what was playing. Daniel had a mischievous look on his face as he turned around, further confirming her theory that today was planned. She watched as he did a horrible (absolutely horrible) shimmy back over to her, before grabbing ahold of her right hand with his and pulling her to her feet. He led her out to the dance floor, where his free arm wrapped around her back, pulling her closer to him. As he began swaying to the music, Sadie realized she was as stiff as a board.

“Dancing is a two way street, dear,” he hummed.

“Keep Me in Mind?” She asked him. “How did you know I liked this song?”

“Lucky guess?” He winked at her, but he knew that she knew he was lying. He wasn’t a very good liar, she had come to find out. Sadie took a deep breath, before allowing herself to relax into his touch and dance along to the music. Daniel was attempting to sing along, but he didn’t know the words—so it all spilled out as some kind of unrecognizable gibberish.

“You barely even have one drink in your system, and you’re already drunk,” she laughed as he held his arm out to spin her. She did so, but as he pulled her back into his embrace, her chest hit his. She caught her breath, realizing how close they now were. He held her closer, with his grip tightening on her waist. They stayed like that for a moment, both of them unsure of what to do or say next. Despite feeling incredibly overwhelmed by him, Sadie knew deep down that it was no longer a negative feeling. Whatever had transpired over the last week between them slowly dissolved. It felt like time slowed around them—like they were the only two in the bar. Just as Daniel opened his mouth to speak, she stepped away.

“I don’t feel good,” Sadie lied, though her voice wavered a bit, ultimately giving her away. “I just…I think I need some air.” Before she could listen to his response, she was quick to turn on her heel and exit the bar.

.

She wouldn’t speak to him for a few days after that, and it drove Daniel mad. The plan was going perfectly, but she shut it down. What made him feel even more stupid, was that he thought just for a moment that she felt the same. He could see it in her eyes—that hopeful glimmer that often gave himself away, was reflected in her gaze as well. He couldn’t stop replaying it in his mind, the way her body felt against his. He watched her as she made her way from the barn to the garage, carrying two large buckets of milk from the cows. Her expression was strained; she seemed to be in a daze since they left the bar. He couldn’t figure out what was holding her back, and just as he tried to sort through all the possible reasons, his phone rang.

He didn’t reach for it at first. He hadn’t had any service for the past week and a half, so he almost forgot the device even existed. When it rang again, he dropped the hose he was holding immediately to grab it from his pocket. Notification after notification began pooling through, as the last several days finally caught up to him. Every article about him, every text message from former teammates, every call from his family members—it all rapidly hit him at once. He felt the familiar tightness in his chest that he felt the day Sadie’s grandpa invited him over. He slowly lowered himself to his knees as he read through each message.

Max: Hope you’re well, mate. No one has heard from you for a while. We’re all worried

Lando: Heard you left the country? Hope you were smart enough to bring your phone. Your mom’s been having a fit since you left the airport.

Seb: Hosting a retirement party for you next week. What’s your schedule look like?

“You okay?”

The noise quickly faded as Daniel looked up from his phone to find Sadie standing over him. The expression she wore was laced with layers of concern as she watched him reading his screen.

“Shit,” he sighed, locking the device again. “I, uh, think I need to be honest with you.” She hesitated before sitting beside him on the ground. She hugged her knees to her chest, then offered him another genuine smile.

“I’m all ears.”

So, he told her everything. He told her about work, about being dropped by RB, about running away…and she listened, just like she said she would. It was weird, having someone there to just hear his thoughts. Not to interject, not to tell him what to do or to say…just to absorb his words as they spewed out of his mouth. He had this same feeling when he first met her—that despite the storm inside of him that welled with doubt and fear of the future, she managed to ground him. The clouds cleared, and the sky was blue with her. In his world of winter, she was summer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” he finished, as he finally grew the courage to meet her gaze again. “I should have told you but…it was nice to be nobody for a while.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as she thought for a moment. His phone buzzed again, but before he could look, she placed her hand over his.

“I’m not angry,” she stated. “I’m sorry you’ve felt like you had to hold that in to keep your peace, but…we’re all nobodys here. That is something you can count on. It’s, like, the one perk to living off the grid.” Daniel laughed at her last comment. There was truth to her words. It was really nice to be nobody. But as the notifications kept rolling in, he knew he needed to answer some of them—to go back to being a somebody.

“I should probably make a few calls,” he looked at her. As the sun was beginning to set, the glow of its light seemed to shine perfectly on her face. As if instinctively, he reached out to her, pushing her hair behind her ear. At first, she pulled away slightly. Then, before he could drop his hand, she leaned in to his touch. The next words to leave his mouth seemed to spill before he could think, “I love you.”

.

The house felt empty when Daniel eventually left. There was a somberness that filled the air that nobody dared to address, because addressing it made it real. Sadie didn’t want it to be real. Not yet, not ever. She should’ve said she loved him back before he left, but she was scared. In all truthfulness, he scared her. Not in a bad way, but in a way that felt like if she were to allow herself to fall, the repercussions afterwards would damage her completely. What if it didn’t work out? What would happen to the farm if she left with him? Daniel had reassured her profusely that she didn’t have to say the three words back, but he simply wanted her to know where he stood before he left.

Six agonizing weeks later, and Sadie hated herself for not saying it back.

The weather was beginning to cool in South Dakota, as she made final winter preparations around the farm. She was adjusting the heat lamp in the chicken coop, when she heard a soft knock on the wall outside.

“Sadie?” Her grandpa called. “Can we talk?”

“I guess,” she mumbled as she turned the lamp on, then crawled out of the coop. Her grandpa wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.

“Distracting yourself with chores won’t make your feelings disappear,” he told her gently. “You know, he’s tried calling.”

She did know, but it was a horribly ironic feeling that stirred inside of her. He called, but she couldn’t talk to him regardless of how much she ached to hear his voice again. His goodbye was still so fresh on her mind that she couldn’t face the reality just yet. It was part of the reason she stayed outside all of the time—to avoid being available when he calls.

“He just left so soon,” she finally managed to say, though her voice was strained. Her grandpa placed a soft kiss against her temple as he continued rubbing her arm lovingly.

“Come inside,” he insisted, though she didn’t have the chance to argue as he began walking with his arm still around her—ultimately forcing her to walk with him. She let him, though. She was too tired to keep her composure anymore. As they grew closer to the house, she heard Lucky barking at the front door. Sadie stopped in her tracks, frowning.

“Lucky!” She called to the dog, but he ignored her. He started to whine over whatever was happening on the other side of the door. She whistled at him, when the door opened. Lucky darted inside, and as Sadie got ready to chase after him, she finally saw the culprit of his obsession: Daniel looked over to her cheekily, with his familiar smile plastered across his face. His hair was a bit longer, but the scruff still lined his jaw. A soft gasp escaped from her. He stepped outside.

“You, uh, wouldn’t return my calls,” he said casually as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of the winter coat he wore. “I really had some important things to say, and I just didn’t feel like waiting anymore—“

Before he had the chance to finish, Sadie ran over to him. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, but she didn’t care. She acted on her feelings, and shut him up with a desperate, emotional kiss. Daniel wasted no time engulfing her in a hug, spinning her around happily. He kissed her back reverently, as if she were a sacred prayer to be memorized and answered. Her hands were tangled in his hair. She could taste the wine that her grandmother was more than likely giving him inside. Part of her wondered how long he had been here, but she didn’t care, because he was here now. She broke the kiss momentarily, bracing herself to finally say to him what she has wanted to say since he left.

“I love you,” she whispered. He brought a hand up, gently brushing the tears away from her eyes. “I’m sorry I took so long to—“

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Daniel interjected before quickly stealing another kiss from her. “I love you, too.” Sadie buried her face into his chest. Despite the icy breeze that pricked at her face and at her hands, she practically melted in his arms. There was an unspoken agreement between them in that moment. That despite what the future held for either of them, the other was going to be in it.

.

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

[opal-owl-flight]

I absolutely adore your agent lore SO MUCH it feels really canon to me, just in a darker and realistic way!!

I am kind of wondering what your thoughts are on octavio, especially in this verse- if you have any of course LMAO 👍 so fair if you don't he just lives in my braincells rent free.

"You. Were not so different, you and I."

"|Shut. Up. Dont compare yourself to me. I did everything for this fragile world. A world you yourself almost destroyed twice.|"

"Aah, so did I, young squid. So did I."

3 rounds on the imprisoned geezer. Some thanks he got, after saving the world. The Captain was almost as bad as their old superior.

He only crosses his arms tighter as they clacked their beak.

"|The destruction of my world does not justify yours' survival.|"

Theres a dry chuckle from within the glass globe.

"Which world has the zapfishes. Which world is close to the sky? Which world allows everyone to...act the way you do. That annoyingly fresh attitude that just rubs in our face how much better you have it."

3s looking more unsure now, their hands clasping tight on their arms whenever theyre not signing. Thats a surprise.

"Mm. Do you understand, agent?"

The hesitance disappears, and their eyes and spots glint threateningly. "|Im the Captain now, and I will prefer to be referred to as such.|"

The king rolls his eyes. Mocks a salute.

"Stuffy kid. Damn. Alright, Captain.

Let me illuminate it a little more clearly for you.

You train your agents to keep my people underground. Sometimes, to the point of breaking their spirit. Because you want to keep them safe -- from me, from my troops, from anything the rough seas can throw at em. Right?"

"|I dont do it like you do. Hypnosis? Mind control? Eight ran away because of that!|"

"Who told you I used that on my entire nation? Damn old fool, that Craig.

As for your "Agent Eight"...

that one...

...had her reasons.

I hold no ill will towards her, or the others, for running.

In fact, I dont blame them one bit."

3 squints.

"They wanted a life that I cannot provide.

Its hard, underground. Constant energy crisis. Constant food shortage. Constant resource depletion. Who would stay? Except those who want to make it a better world to live in?

And you, Captain. What would you do in my place?"

And they stay quiet...

Before their voice rasps through a low hiss.

"Act...in a way... you wont."

"Hoh! So you can speak! Impressive.

But you know youd do similar. Ive heard how much Agent 4 hates your guts. Its not as easy being a leader, isnt it."

3 hisses louder, balling their fists.

"I...am not...you."*

"Yes. You. Are." The king presses his tentacles on the glass. "I did all I did for my fragile world. I continue to run my nation the way I do so everyone stays safe from the danger YOU bring. You and the REST of your nation. My troops are family. My troops are all Ive got."

He casts a glance at 4 (pre-Captain my Captain), who was approaching for her training.

"Even if they end up hating me."*

3 catches 4s gaze.

"Even if they end up deserting."

4 turns her gaze away, to look directly at Octavio.

"Do you understand?"

Now its 3 who looks, understanding dawning in their eyes.

Hes right.

"I must do what I need to, even if it hurts me. Id risk my life, my honor, my everything, for my people.

If I dont, who else will?"

3 thinks of the times theyd swooped in to save the newly returned 4 from hazards in the newer missions. The verbal and physical abuse from her beak and fists. The way they had to give her easier missions despite saying that it was tougher, just so shed have a more gradual growth. Have higher chances of surviving. Even if...underhanded.

4 herself breaks the silence, and their train of thought.

"Talking to the damn geezer again, Captain?"

"|He spoke first.

...but he makes good points.|"

"You cant seriously- hey. HEY! CAPTAIN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!"

theres a loud crash.

"|I dont think it fair to keep him here after he helped us save the world.|"

"Hohohoh! You are not so bad, Captain."

"GRAMPS IS GOING TO KILL YOU."

"Hah! No he wont. I know your old man. And for once in his life, he actually made a good call.

Captain.

Agent Three."

The mention of their old number, to refer to them, almost made tears spring to their eyes.

Almost.

After all, this was the reason they were dragged into this mess. But can they really keep blaming him for all this, after all this time?

Octavio shows...a hint of a smile.

"You make a fine protege for the man I used to know.

Keep it up."

3 holds 4 back from rushing the Octarian leader. "Go...back. Take care...of your people."

"Aye aye. Heheh. So long, suckers!!!"

And he was gone.

[bluee08]

Astro Observations 《2》

Disclaimer : I am not an astrologer so please take these observations with a grain of salt. Plus I have noticed, I ranted a lot here so please bear with me. It's only for fun.

♦️ Mercury could indicate what kind of genre/content you like to read. For example:

Mercury in Taurus/2nd – Cookbook, rom-com, finance, fashion magazines.

Mercury in Leo/5th – Children's story books, Tales, quizzes, riddles, Adventures books.

Mercury in libra/7th – Romance novels, fashion magazines, pamphlets, brochures.

Mercury in Scorpio/8th – Non-fiction, Thrillers, mystery, smut.

Mercury in Sagittarius/9th – Encyclopedia, Rom-adventure, historical books, Atlas.

Mercury in Pisces/12th – Spiritual books, inspirational, Autobiographies.

♥️ Pluto in 11th house is a big Best friend crisis placement, if you ask me. In this, you can never be anyone's only bestfriend and no one can be your bestfriend. Friends are a lessons in your life. They come, you transform each other in some way, they go. Nobody stays long enough. Their definition of best friends is tricky, because– "We have known each other for 6 years but we haven't talked since 3 years, are we still besties?" To these people, Instead of feeling betrayed or petty, accept it and move on.

♦️ People with Asteroid hobby in their 11th house might like to do coding or other technical work. Technology and social media plays a major role when they are free. They might even share their hobbies with others on social platforms.

♥️ No matter what the reputation says, Sagittarius venus are the most hardcore lovers. They also don't mind a bit of possessiveness in the relationship. When I say possessiveness, they don't want to hear how you will lock them up in a castle for the rest of their life if they try to run away from you. Whereas, that might be a fantasy for some but its not for Sag venus. They will purposely take the next immediate flight and be gone for good. What they actually want to hear is how you will chase them to the moon and back. And no matter where they go, you will always be there to embrace them with your open arms. All we Sagittarius people need is to feel grounded not caged.

♦️ Asteroid Lie aspecting Neptune could make very imaginative and fluent liars. Sometimes it won't make any sense but you will still believe them because they lie with such a honesty and projection that you are forced to doubt your own judgment. Their lies are very descriptive and they make them on the spot. They appear dreamy as if they are not lying but living their own reality. Sometimes it comes handy to them but sometimes it backfires when they forget what they lied about for no reason.

♥️ Aquarius Rising got nothing on Uranus conjuct ascendant. Look, I get that Aquarius is ruled by Uranus but honestly I can't relate to the stereotype when they say Aquarius risings have a unique fashion sense. Being a Aquarius rising and having Uranus in first house I personally think it fits the Uranus conjuct ascendant more. Yes, I like to stand out but my fashion sense is not that unique. I like it different but simple. My brother has a 12th house Uranus conjuct ascendant and he is a uranian more than me. He wears the most unconventional outfits at very wrong timings. He has a very unique fashion sense and he remains fixated on it until the last moment. Man... and he still pulls it off effortlessly. I could never do that.

♦️ Asteroid Sharp (5426) true to its name could indicate the area of your life where you excel the most and are quite attentive. You also learn and grasp those parts quickly. For example: Asteroid Sharp in Aquarius means you are good with electronics,technology, innovating things. In 2nd house could mean you handle money matters very well. In 10th house, you make profitable business deals, bargains and have a good eye when it comes to trading something.

♥️ Have you seen a Mars in 4th house getting angry? They are never angry. Well, never angry enough to be angry. But be careful just because they are not saying anything for the past twenty minutes while you are chewing their head off doesn't mean they are calm. It means either you are someone they can't cross with for the time being or they are thinking of hundred ways to kill you without getting into jail. Good luck bby, these people are damn calculative and smart. They will let you walk all over them for a moment but later.... oh boy you will not even realize what hit you. And trust me, they will have a strong alibi.

♦️Venus in 10th house 🤝 Get them a man/woman with financial stability. They themselves prefer to be independent and classy in a relationship. But no matter what financial stability is a must for them. Maybe not the first but definitely one of the top priorities.

♥️ Virgo Mars people are really fond of ropes, handcuffs, belts, elastic things and all. Idk why my brother keeps checking their strength when he encounters them. Hmm...sus

♦️ Saturn in 1st house could mean you were forced to grow up too early. You had many responsibilities on your shoulders at a young age and faced a lot of difficulties expressing your weaknesses. You might also be the person in the family who is looked upon and respected the most. No decision is taken without your consultation because you are considered to be the wisest of all.

♥️ Pluto in 3rd house, don't tell me your school life was easy. Either you failed a subject, were bullied for no reason, had abusive teachers, teachers who always picked upon you, unstable attendance or your family could hardly afford your studies.

♦️Scorpio/8th house Mars and their gazes. God, please don't stare at me like that. I get chills. There was this girl in my class. She used to stare at people a lot, that too bluntly. We thought she was creepy. But later after knowing her, she turned out to be really sweet and pretty decent girl.

♥️ Moon in 3rd house, very very curious people. They need to know everything there is in this world until they are emotionally satisfied. My 8 year old cousin asked me where do babies come from? She also added, don't say from God.

♦️I don't know about other Pisces placements but Pisces venus, they do have a thing for foot. Trust me on this, I had a deep conversation about this topic with my cousin who is a Pisces venus and because I didn't want to go with stereotype judgment, I had to make sure it was true. But it can vary from person to person tho.

♥️ Saturn in 2nd house people could come from a poor household or used to be financially unstable. But trust me it doesn't stay this way throughout. They usually face many difficulties with money until they don't at all. Karma always pays off and most of the times they live a very satisfied life. Very down to earth people. They don't fear poverty either.

♦️8th house Virgo are suckers for hygiene and perfection. But can be quite freaky in bed. Or the complete opposite of both. They can also have a guilty conscience after sex or masturbation.

♥️ Chiron in Capricorn/10th house can be very hard on themselves. These people often feel incompetent when it comes to their professional life. They can be insecure and anxious if things don't go their way. For them being unemployed is much worse than being heartbroken and it can be destroying.

♦️ Saturn in 6th house placements have an unimaginable disturbed mental health. They don't show and it seems as if no one sees it either. They pretend that everything is okay and no one can tell that it is not. Sometimes they are not even capable to share because people around them make them feel as if they are not supposed to. They often feel restricted when it comes to their emotions.

♥️ Now this is kinda funny but I have noticed some of the people having Sagittarius in fifth house or prominent Sagittarius/Gemini placements come off very lively and enthusiastic when it comes to kids. They also have a thing for irritating kids in a funny way to the point they start crying. Then they laugh it off.

[ygio]

atem, in my mind, is demi. doesnt care for romance or feel attraction to anyone initially, no one makes him turn on the street, he has more important things to do. the realization that this can change comes with the realization that hes in love with yuugi and everything about his partner is attractive, like holy shit what is this feeling. atem is all kinds of overwhelmed but having a time

yuugi is the kinda bi that doesnt think about gender much. people of all shapes and sizes can be and have been hot to him. all his friends are hot. figuring this out didnt hit hard at all, it was a slow solidifying of that "oh. hm. makes sense" feeling over time. hes poly, too - his first crush ever was on a girl, second crush ever was on a boy, and he tried to set the two of them up. (respect tbh)

jou though? has a Moment. an identity crisis, or five. jounouchi is the kind of bi who spends his life thinking that all straight people want to have sех with their homies, its just normal. the realization that this is not in fact normal for straight people hits him at some point and is something he needs to digest

anzu prefers boys but her boy of choice wears chokers puts eyeliner and is shorter than her even in heels, and she absolutely made out with girls in new york. perhaps she wouldve had a mini crisis over it if she were back in japan, but hey, dancers are chill about it and when in rome..

bakura is gay and somewhere on the aro/ace spectrum. he doesnt do or understand romance and relationships the way an average person would and that is fine by him. girls are not interesting to him, and boys are interesting in very peculiar ways. "i want to put you under a microscope" is a declaration more intimate than "i am in love with you"

i dont know if it would be funnier if honda was the sole heterosexual in his entire friend group, or if everyone just assumed that he was, until he casually mentions being attracted to men, and everyone loses their shit. "wym why didnt i tell you? i thought you guys knew"

[natigail]

"I figured hey, if I'm here, I might as well be honest with myself. So I dug into the archives. And I found teenage Dan. Do you remember HELLO INTERNET? There I was, eighteen years old, your average caucasian British boy with your problematic vocabulary, just wanting so desperately to be liked. I then saw myself age twenty, as a student. Not that I was actually studying anything other than the male anatomy. I had no plan. No prospects. I was in desperate need of a haircut. Jesus Christ. No, look, that was not a hairstyle. It was geometry. My hair was a square. I then saw myself age twenty-two as an adult, just trying to make my way in the world, taking any job that I could, no matter how inauthentic or degrading. And look. I don't hate these past versions of myself, alright? Apart from the square one, it can get in the fucking bin. Mainly, I just feel sorry that it took them so long to work out who they are. I then stumbled across the video titled Existential Crisis. In which I utter the optimistic nihilistic epithet: 'embrace the void and have the courage to exist'. Embrace the void and have the courage to exist. It sounded nice when I said it but for some reason it just didn't hit. I had accepted the absurdity of the world but at that time, I hadn't accepted myself. Looking back at it, it finally clicked. Anyone who has suffered with depression or any kind of trauma that seriously affects your self-worth hopes that one day you're going to have this sudden revelation and then everything is fine. I had my revelation alright. I am unapologetically gay! Don't know if you hadn't picked up on that, so far in the show. But just having this revelation did not immediately fix all of my problems, because I still feel that inherent burnt-on brand that I am wrong. And that doesn't just go away. No, I know what my problem is, alright. My problem I am always living for the future. Every day I am thinking about this dream future where all of my dreams have come true and all of my problem have gone and everything's fine. And so, every day in the present of my life can be this joyless unrelenting grind towards that future. But it's okay. It's going to come any day now, right? Learning to look yourself in the mirror and being honest about what you've been through and keep living in spite of that can be hard. It takes a long time and a relentless persistent resistance against the way that you've been trained to feel by the world. But that doesn't just mean you should give up. Because, sure, sometimes in life, you may feel trapped. I felt trapped by my sexuality. You could feel trapped by your culture or your community. Hell, you could be literally trapped in an elevator but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't try to get out. 'cause, sure, when I look at the state of the world, I am very tempted to just go: You know what - we're all doomed. But that isn't courageous. That is cowardly. It's the easy way out. Even if it is, as I hope you'd all agree, a really fucking cool name for a show. So that's the thing. You can either say to yourself, every day is just a discontent emoji or you can find the courage to force your inner smiling cowboy hat, ye-motherfucking-haw! And just try to find in everyday life. Which is why I made this show. So I'm not living in the future but I'm just right here, right now, with you, just trying to have one good night. And look. Hey. Who knows, huh? We may all be doomed. Death may be inevitable. But first, we get to live. Life might at times be a struggle but just being here, to put one foot in front of the other every day is living. So please, do not let the doom drag you down. You are important. You matter. Please, stay hopeful for the future. Appreciate life. Embrace the void and have the courage to exist." - Dan Howell, closing monologue of his show "we're all doomed" (2022-2024)

[abyssal-werewolf]

Fluid kintypes - identity doesn't need to be static

I used to be a wolf, once. Not in a past-life sense, but in a therian sense - I was a wolf therian and then I wasn't. Sounds weird to you? I'm not surprised!

Something that I have repeatedly been told by other therians and otherkin is "you are what you are and if you find out you are something else - well, then you never were the first thing at all." Especially when I joined the community several years ago, I saw this statement everywhere. But let me tell you: it's not true. I had several different kintypes over the years (side note: we are plural and for the sake of this post I am simplifying some internal structure things. if you want the complicated details, feel free to ask! /gen), started as a wolf therian, then I was a cryptid, a dinosaur, a dragon and some kind of monster. Now I am Khhanivore (from Love, Death and Robots) and Mewtu (from Pokemon, Mewtu is the German spelling) - and a raptor kintype is coming back. (I am also a werewolf, but that's not a kintype, that's just Purely Me And My Whole Essence)

"Okay Istasha, but isn't that just questioning or maybe flickertypes?", you might ask. Fair point, but no.

I honestly never really questioned my kintypes - if I truly question something, it turns out to either be a hearttype or Nothing at All. As for kintypes, I just know - all of us just know what we are, it's like chilling and one day, suddenly, one of us is like "oh, I am a horse. alright, carry on" and that's it. Our kintypes stay with us for several months at least, theoretically they could stay forever but tend to change along the way - which brings me to the next point. They aren't flickertypes either. We only really get fictionflickers and sometimes animalflickers and those are extremely short and always tied to media we are currently consuming - they feel, technically, like kintypes to me. For example, if I watch a lot of Supernatural, I sometimes get an intense feeling of belonging there, of being a non-canon character, of being part of the story, etc. I am this non-canon character in that moment, I might even get pseudo-memories or shifts, but as soon as I don't engage with that show too much again, it instantly fades.

Our kintypes don't work like that. Take my re-emerging dinosaur kintype as an example. I was walking somewhere a few days ago and suddenly had a pahntom sensation in my legs and feet and in the same moment I knew "ah shit, new kintype". I gave it a day because maaayyybe it's nothing? But deep down I already knew what was going on, so I have an Utahraptor kintype now. I am this. I identify as this through and through and it feels like I've always been this way. But it wasn't - a week ago I wasn't a dinosaur and now I am. I did not choose it, I did not engage with any dinosaur media at all, it just happened.

My kintypes have always been changing and trust me when I say I had a complete identity crisis when my wolf kintype first went away. But over the years Ive learned to accepot it - my identy is not static, it never was and it never will be and that's okay!

It doesn't make my kintypes less important or less real and it also doesn't mean I never was a wolf. I was. And then I wasn't.

I honestly think it is so, so damaging to still have this "kintypes are static"-sentient floating around in the community, because that's simply not true for all of us. For me, it honestly even makes more sense this way. Our brain has always been unstable, I lacked a true identity for so long. We grew up with untreated BPD andf although the symptoms are 95% under my control now (read: it's in remission), our brain still has a ton of habits from that time, like clinging onto different things to try and form an identity, to try and fill the void where a person should be. And the fact that the void is filled now, that I finally am enough of a person to fill it, this habit never changed. Our brain still randomly grabs things and makes them one of us, leading to fluid kintypes.

Let me end this with saying: being wrong about a kintype is fine. Figuring out you are X instaed of Y and never were Y is fine. But it is also fine to be X today and Y tomorrow.

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: we, as a community, need to take our identities less and more serious at the same time. Let's stop the gatekeeping and policing others, let's stop overanalyzing ourselves so much. Let's stop looking for rules and asking "is it possible to be this?" over and over again - because the answer is yes. There are literally no rules as to how, why and what you can be. In order to be otherkin you need to do exactly one thing: identify as The Thing in question. Nothing else. On the other hand, we need to kindly educate those who confuse identify as and identify with, we need to kindly educate young therians who "choose their theriotypes", we need to make sure we are not watered down to being "a fun thing you can do".

I sometimes feel like the focus and effort of this community is in good faith but in the wrong place - static kintypes is one of them.

There are no limits. Be who you are today and if you are something else tomorrow, be that then. <3

[cirrus-grey]

I feel that paradoxically, we learn more about Jon's feelings for Martin in terms of what specifically he finds most endearing about him - we know from various pieces of dialogue he finds at least some part of his stubbornness endearing, his resourcefulness... Martin seems to have always appreciated Jon's willingness to help people and to listen. I like thinking about it because many aspects of their relationship are somewhere between the lines, and I love hearing what other people think, so that's what I wanted to ask you - what would you say they see in each other? (it sounds like a negatively charged question but I just didn't know how else to put it, I swear 😅)

I am so, so tempted to respond to this by just linking you to the 200+ jmart fics I've posted on Ao3 and saying "Here. This is what I think they see in each other" because I have spent many hundreds of thousands of words trying to answer this question and I don't know if I can summarize 😅

Genuinely, though, I kind of feel like that is the answer? I truly don't believe it's possible to take their relationship (or any relationship) and simplify it down to a simple list of "this is what they see in each other". Yes, Jon likes Martin’s stubbornness, his resourcefulness, his kindness, his willingness to see the best in people, his shrewdness, his sense of humor, his determination to fight for a happy ending against all the odds... and Martin likes Jon's willingness to help people and listen, his compassion, his boldness, his stubbornness that matches Martin’s own, his bravery, his quick-wittedness, his perseverance in the face of impossible odds... but when Jon doesn't listen, or isn't brave, or collapses under the weight of everything he's carrying, Martin loves him anyway. And when Martin is helpless, or unkind, or gives in to despair, Jon loves him all the same.

More than a simple list of qualities they see in each other, I think the best answer I can give is that... they just enjoy each other's company. They're friends, first and foremost. They care about each other. Once you hit a certain point of liking someone it's hard to point a finger and say "this, right here, is why". Even bad qualities can become endearing, and good qualities can be annoying under the right circumstances, but neither of those things effect the fact that this is a person in your life you care deeply for; someone you want to spend time with, and see them happy, and are willing to put the work in to get past the rough bits together.

So as for "what they see in each other"... sure, maybe at first Martin’s crush started because he was touched by how Jon listened to him about Prentiss, and maybe Jon's started because he was impressed with how Martin handled the crisis when she attacked. But (and I know this sounds incredibly cheesy) I think the truest answer for what they see in each other, is that they see someone whose presence makes their life better, who they want to spend every day with, and who they can't imagine their life without.

[lairofsentinel]

Since this user's posts seem to have been deleted in previous opportunities I copy-paste their words here because they express exactly what I feel about this game. Dragon Age has died, unfortunately.

I'm a big time Dragon Age lover and have enjoyed every game in the series. Personally, I think Inquisition is the best in the series. And I was excited for Veilguard right up until I actually began playing it. Now, I want to clear things up at the start as to what I look for and believe makes a good Dragon Age game. To start, I DON'T CARE ABOUT COMBAT. I. Do. Not. Care.

You can make it Origins tactical. DA2 fast tactical. DAI hybrid. God of War action, I don't care. Dragon Age has always had combat that was...fine. A nice distraction and breakup in between the bits I actually care about: narrative ROLEPLAYING, story, characters, and exploration. I don't give a crap how great the combat is if the narrative roleplaying and writing are poor, I'm not playing BioWare titles for amazing gameplay. I am here for the story, the characters, and the roleplaying. Truth is, for a time I considered DATV's combat to be the best in the series.

And this is why I feel the game is a terrible Dragon Age, because it lacks or fails to respect those elements concerned with narrative roleplaying, story, characters, and exploration. Now, in many reviews and online videos you'll hear some reference often to the drop in writing quality. And a lot of time people will incorrectly say that the writing with the characters is to "modern" or "Marvel quippy" or not "dark" enough. I think these people are wrong, they recognize there is a drop in writing quality from previous games but aren't able to articulate why that is.

Dragon Age has never adopted any sort of faux medieval speech and vocabulary (though we'll get into this more later). This is a series that used "epic fail" as a thing someone uttered in the very first game. It's always had anachronistic dialogue and banter. So why is it such a drop then? Why is it considered poor? Simple. This is a game that does not believe in the world it has setup for over a decade. It does not believe in or engage properly with its own world and lore. I mean, look no further than the title "The Veilguard" a phrase that is never uttered by anyone in our group, and further proof it was a last minute marketing change. Compare to Inquisition where the title is apparent from the start in the game and has actual meaning.

You see, characters in DATV do not feel or react to events the way they should based on the lore. Why is no one constantly asking what the hell the Inquisitor is doing? The Inquisitor is kind of a BIG DEAL when it comes to Solas and Elven Gods, my Inquisitor drank from the WELL OF SORROWS! So why are we sitting around thinking at the start, "hmm lemme think who I can contact who might know more." The Herald of Andraste! They know more Rook, the guy that is technically your boss. The Inquisitor! Who else have you been working for this entire time? Who do you think told Varric to recruit you?!

But even removing the Inquisitor, the Elven Gods being real and also near synonymous with the old Tevinter Gods is kind of a BIG DEAL. It was only a theory fans crafted long ago that slowly revealed itself to be true. And it completely upends known religious dogma on all sides. Yet, why aren't people we meet going through a massive existential crisis? For instance, the Veil Jumpers we initially meet were presumably told off-screen about Fen'Harel, and are seemingly cool with this massive knowledge alone. But then we talk about those two other Gods being released and they're like, "well, shit those two aren't good." As if they have any clue if the fables about those Gods are real when we previously just upended everything they thought about the Dreadwolf! Why are you acting like this is another Tuesday?! Your entire religion is wrong. In that same conversation, Strife notes "Solas might be a bastard, but compared to the Evunaris? Let's just say they weren't know for being kind rulers."

My brother in Anduril, what are you talking about! Elven religion teaches that Elgar'nan was so beloved by the Earth that it "the land brought forth great birds and beasts of sky and forest, and all manner of wonderful green things." And that he fought the jealous Sun that tried to burn the land and all beasts away. Custom says that he and Mythal, "created the world as we know it" after defeating the Sun. He is literally described as one of the "good" Gods. WHY ARE YOU ASSUMING HE IS EVIL! It's like finding out Satan is real, but not as evil as have come to believe and then being told Jesus Christ is back and a devout Christian going, "well shit, that can't be good." WHAT?!

The same goes for Andraste and the Chant of Light, it took me 30 hours of playing before ONE character mentioned Andraste and the implications with the Chant and it was never brought up again. Our entire party is seemingly made up of unphased atheists. Now compare to something like Inquisition which explored this aspect HARD and was amazing for it. You'd get into great debates with religious figures and party members about the implications of Corypheus actually being a Tevinter Magister of old. And you'd talk about what it means towards the religious dogma preached and how much is true. And these intense political and religious discussions are present in every previous game, and not confined to a single conversation with one party member where it is seemingly resolved.

These conversations do not happen in DATV because there is no depth to the writing or engagement with the world. The Elven Gods are evil and need to be stopped. That's it. We don't need to think about the implications this has on Dalish customs and religion. Fuck it, all the Dalish are going to still wear their Vallaslin slave brand tattoos. Let's forget about Trespasser implying Solas was removing them from followers coming to join him. Let's even forget they were likely all told at this point that they are slave brands, nope still going to wear them yet speak blasphemy with every sentence against our Gods. No one cares about Andraste or The Maker or the Chant. Big deal if these Elven Gods contradict the overwhelming majority religion in Thedas. Not a single party member has religious or cultural objections to killing the Elven Gods; not a problem. Not one single elf wants to join Solas in tearing down The Veil and getting immortality again?

Again, let's forget about Trespasser setting up Solas gathering MANY Elven followers from Dalish clans who would be super inclined to join him after experiencing CENTURIES of discrimination and slavery by humans. The better question is what Elves wouldn't join Solas at the start? And what Elves wouldn't look at the other two Gods and go, "meh, maybe we should give them a try. They can't be worse than humans, right?" In DA2 you had elves joining The Qun to escape the discrimination of humans, but not ONE ELF wants to join Solas or Elgar'nan? Those Ancient Elves in the Temple of Mythal? I guess they all died, right?

This extends to EVERY single element of Dragon Age that previously had depth to it, it now has been completely removed. Those murdering Antivan Crows? Oh, they're just good Italian Mob Family that protect their city. Tevinter? Yes, it has poor people, but we're trying to do better. Oh, slavery? No, no we don't show that here. The Qun? The what now? No, they are all Antaam now, and so that means they are all generic evil warlords. No, they don't even attempt to follow their own hardcore view of The Qun like when Templars split from the Chantry, they're just warlords now that like plunder. Dwarves and their rigid Caste society? We don't do that here. Elves and racism across Thedas? Elves used to experience racism? News to me, what's a Shemlen? Never heard of that term, we like all humans. Pirates? That is insensitive, we are Lords of Fortune and we are sure to return any cultural artifacts found to their rightful owners; it belongs in a museum after all. The fucking Fade and spirits? Wait, you mean its different than generic fantasy spirit world? I'm sorry, that's too complicated here.

This either intentional disregard of the lore or plain ignorance also extends to environmental design. The asset reuse from Inquisition is particularly hilarious and must speak to the developers not having time after the switch from MP. Why are the same statues found in Val Royeaux in DAI also in Tevinter and Antiva? Why are those stupid Fen'Harel Wolf statues EVERYWHERE? Even in the catacombs of other Elven Gods! There are no statues of Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain. Nothing for June or Anduril. Dirthamen. Falon'Din. Nothing. No, the only Gods that seem to get statues are coincidentally the ones who already had assets created for DAI or past titles that could be reused. Hmmm.

This continues into character designs too, why do the Veiljumpers and Shadow Dragons all dress richly? They are supposed to be poor as fuck. There's a codex entry about Veiljumpers finding a lost cache of old ancient elven armor and weapons and so boom they all get to dress like High Elven Lords and not the dirty, poor, wandering Dalish clans they are supposed to come from. Why do this? There isn't even an attempt to explaining why the Shadow Dragons, an organization supposed to be secretive, has branded clothing in bright rich colors and fabrics for all members. Naturally, it must be incredibly difficult for Tevinter authorities to not identify them.

This lack of depth and verisimilitude, naturally, affects all the characters. Because in this game you cannot roleplay and you cannot ask questions. In Dragon Age Inquisition, once you started the game, you could immediately interrogate Varric about what happened to every DA2 character despite the Inquisitor never meeting them, you know because it respects its players. You could speak to shop keepers, blacksmiths, your horse master. You could interrogate every single person to learn more about them and the world. The same goes for your player character in DA2 and Origins. You show in Denermin and find yourself knee deep in a quest to help Wade the Blacksmith craft the perfect armor. Here you can't actually speak to a single shopkeeper to ask questions and get some lore bits. You can't ask party members questions about their background, religious beliefs, upbringing, their factions, etc. You can't ask any returning characters any questions either about what they've been doing. Enter a brand new area? Great, you're not asking anyone questions about this never before seen place.

How does a lost Dwarven thaig survive every single blight? How are their immortal lichs in Neverra? How long has that been a thing? Why haven't they told anyone about the Elven gods or any other knowledge they've accumulated in an immortal lifespan? If immortality is so "easy" why can't Solas just do that to restore the Elves? Why are the Venatori, Tevinter Supremacists, following Elven Gods? Wouldn't that be a major identity crisis? Why would Antaam, who still preach the Qun, follow an Elven God that speaks blasphemy with ever breadth? Sshhhh, no questions. You get what is directly told to you and that's it, no follow-up questions.

Party members do not conflict with each other or interrogate each other's beliefs which is why their banter feels inconsequential and meaningless. Lucanis is a assassin, he kills people for money. The same organization that marked Zevran for death for failing a contract. The same one that took him as a kid and trained him to murder, often brutally, for coin. And yet no one really seems to care. He's just a nice Italian assassin from a nice assassin organization. Who cares. Let's instead talk about cooking, at length. Harding, a devout follower of Andraste, has no qualms with Elven Gods wreaking havoc on known religion. We get one conversation you can tell her to believe what she wants, and that's the end of that debate. Bellara also gets about two whole conversations about the conflict concerning her Gods wreaking havoc, both easily resolved. We don't need to think about any larger implications or doubt her loyalty when the Elven pantheon are seeking to restore her people that have been discriminated against since forever. Emmerich, a necromancer of Neverra, apparently has no religious belief. A codex entry even states that those of the Mourn Watch don't know where the soul goes after death. They don't like to think about it. Buddy, Mortalitasi belief is literally that our souls return to the Void alongside The Maker, but to keep balance a exchange must be wrought with The Fade to allow a spirit to house the now empty vessel. How do you not know the religion and customs of your own faction and land? This man has a whole quest line about funerary rights, yet not ONCE mentions religion and what he believes happens after death?! Sshhhh, no questions. No thinking.

Hey, remember The Fade? Remember how mages go to dream there every night. Remember how The Black City is always visible there? No? Well, we don't either. You won't see The Black City in The Fade. You might see it in The Crossroads in a closed off section, even though it is NOT The Fade. Oh, we're going to have you physically enter The Fade in multiple quest lines and no one will think it's a big deal. No, you still can't see The Black City. Now, The Fade is reduced to nothing more than your generic fantasy spirit world. It has none of the previous rules and lore that bound it before. Demons can bind to non-mages and we won't attempt to explain it. Solas fucks with The Veil and not a single mage notices a change in their dreams when they sleep at night. No biggie.

Lastly, let's return at last to the actual minutiae of writing. I stated at the start the writing isn't bad because of Marvel quippiness, which the series has always had. I was partly lying. Yes, the series has always had anachronistic dialogue. It has had meme language in its own previous titles. But, it was just that, a small joke here and there. For the most part the series actually tried to use it's own sort of "older" speech patterns. I think a perfect example has to do with Taash, she eventually finds her own identity and declares she is proudly "non-binary." Literally stating, "so, I'm non-binary." I have no issue with this sort of inclusivity in Dragon Age, it's what the series is known for. Yet, why does that sound wrong? Simple, it's far too anachronistic. It doesn't belong in Dragon Age. In Inquisition, Dorian let's us know he's gay. But he doesn't say, "I'm gay!" or "I'm a homosexual" those terms would not exist in his world. Instead he says, "I prefer the company of men."

And it's these little subtle changes in writing that makes it feel all the more different. We went from "I once ventured in to The Fade to serve the Old Gods of Tevinter in person. I found there only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. Now I shall return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world gone wrong. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the Gods. And it was empty."

To: "Well, shit. That can't be good."

So, what do we have when all is said and done? Well, we have a decent generic fantasy action game. An intentional attempt by the developers to remove every edge from the world of Dragon Age in place of a very simple, easy to understand world with not much depth beyond what you see. You don't need to think, just play and have fun. This is beyond turning a MP game into a SP game, which so blatantly obvious in this game. DA2 was developed in 16 months, but is carried strong by its writing. You see, nothing prevented them from just acknowledging their own world they created. It costs very little to write around what already exists. Even if you can't make no assets or redesign the world. Writing is cheap and having characters voice these elements is not as costly as a redesign. No, they chose to remove the edge in every element because this was design intentionally for the masses with easy to understand world and zero depth.

But I wanted to play Dragon Age. I wanted to get into intense religious debates with party members as known lore is completely upended. I wanted to debate Elvish clans deciding to join Solas or the other Gods due to their treatment by human society. I wanted to debate the ethics of necromancy with the Mortalitasi of Neverra's Crypts. I wanted to engage in intense debating with Solas on the ethics of his goal. I wanted to see Tevinter react to a real push for anti-slavery and actually see the slavery in the slave capital of the world. I wanted to butt heads with the Antivan Crows and call them out for the murderers they are. I wanted to see the Black Divine and debate the Chant of Light with them. I wanted to speak to the Archon of Tevinter and see how he felt about the Venatori's past efforts in Inquisition. Hey, what happened to Meredith Reborn in Kirkwall and her idol and Red Templar worshipers? Forget about it.

We got none of this. I got a game that is pretty much disrespectful of its own world. I waited 10 years for this? Why even bother if this is the result? They may as well have just killed every previous character we ever knew, including Solas, offscreen and started anew with this game. Because as a Dragon Age game and sequel, it's terrible and no returning character is how they should be.

And when we get to the ending, that's pretty much what they did. Everything you did in all the past games? Well, that was pointless. Everyone is probably dead. King Alistair. Gaspard. Celene. King Bhelen. The Arl of Redcliffe. The Divine. The Circle of Magi. The Templars. The Seekers. Everything, everyone, and every organization that existed in the South is likely dead and destroyed. And now Dragon Age can become what they wanted, a generic fantasy IP.

But I just wanted to play Dragon Age.