#I'M STILL NOT SURE IF I'M SOLD ON THIS ONE

[magnificent-buckless-butt]

Oh no, this is totally on par with hyper consumerism and carefully engineered FOMO.

And I'm starting this book, "Exploiting Fandom" and tbh I'm only at the introduction but it's already blowing my mind.

For some shows, we had official magazines (some still do, like DW) that would sometimes also organise official meet-ups. You would send letters to the magazine with your fanart (that takes time). You would spend time between episodes to come up with theories and discuss them online.

Now I watched with utter horror what happened with the last season of Stranger Things. Basically, Netflix just shouted at us

BINGE WATCH NOW REBLOG LIKE SHARE NOW QUICK BEFORE YOU'RE SPOILED INTERACT NOW OR IT WILL BE NEVER YOU DON'T WANT TO BE LEFT BEHIND

And suddenly they're at your con and half the artists are selling Stranger Things fanarts. Fast forward six ridiculously small months, you only meet a dozen people of so showing their interest in the show at that same con.

What I meant to say is: quick deaths of fandom are orchestrated in big part by the media themselves. They want you to engage quick and hard with their show so that you can promote it in their place. And then, when they have a new show coming up, they do everything to make you move on with the last one because the last one is already sold and they want new money.

Like OP, not trying to guilt trip anyone, just wanting to make sure y'all know it's a deliberate technique and it leads to fandom deaths of fandom burnouts. Take care of yourself and your fandom: be slow. Be unproductive. Be out of fashion.

personally I think it’s a shame how fandoms “died” too soon these days. I’m not talking in literal sense and I know there are people who stay passionate about their fandoms long after the hype is gone. I’m talking about the “popularity” and how people in general engage with a piece of media they like and how fast they let the hype die down? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but what I’m trying to say is a fanfic or a fan art of a show that is recently released will get tons of likes, comments, reblogs which is great. but the engagement for fan made content about that same show usually drops drastically — and I mean drastically — once the show is no longer “recent”. and I’m not even talking about when the show is several years old. because you can see the significant drop of engagement a fanfic or fan art about that show receives once the show is like a month old or two. it’s discouraging how most people tend to lose interest and stop engaging with fanfic / fan art once its source material is no longer “new and shiny”.

especially when writing fanfics and creating fan art take time. writers and artists often receive less engagement / appreciation for their works if they take “too long” to create and the source material is no longer “new and shiny” and so people move on to something else that’s new and shiny. it’s heartbreaking to see.

obviously this is in no way to manipulate or guilt trip people into engaging with anything. because yeah you can do whatever you want. this isn’t to force, manipulate or guilt trip anyone into liking or reblogging a fan work or anything. this is just me hoping people will one day take things slower and enjoy things they’re passionate about longer like how we used to in the past.

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[2nd2ndalto]

I Love the Way You Come to Me

Written for @writers-choice prompt "kink in neck". Title is from the Blue Rodeo song Head Over Heels.

___

Nico turns from where he’s been unsuccessfully matching freshly laundered socks to the sound of his cabin door opening. His boyfriend collapses onto the bed nearest the door.

“Hey Solace. What’s up?”

“I have a crick. In my neck,” Will announces in the same tone you might expect someone to disclose a terminal diagnosis.

“A what?” Nico drops a sock and swears under his breath.

“A crick. You know. A kink.” Will repeats.

Nico raises an eyebrow, grinning. “A kink. Tell me more.”

Will scowls at him.

Will looks… kind of awful, actually. His eyes are puffy and tired and Nico’s pretty sure he hasn’t even attempted to comb his hair. He’s got a hot water bottle pressed to his shoulder and some kind of fuzzy pink pillow around his neck. When he shifts himself on the bed, he does it very gingerly.

“So why aren’t you in the infirmary?” Nico asks, shoving the rest of the clean socks into his drawer unmatched and attempting to force the drawer closed. It bounces back at him.

There’s a pause and then, “It doesn’t matter,” Will says, averting his eyes.

“It doesn’t… what the fuck, Solace. What’s going on? Why are you acting weird?”

Nico gives the dresser drawer one last shove before giving it up as a bad job. He takes a tentative step towards his boyfriend. He’s helped Will out in the infirmary quite a bit over the past four years, ever since Gaea, but he still feels a little awkward around illnesses and injuries. It’s much easier when he has Will bossing him around, although he’s certainly not going to tell Will that.

“It was made very clear to me that I wasn’t welcome in the infirmary,” Will says stiffly.

“What? Why?”

Will mutters something under his breath.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

Will throws a hand dramatically (yet gingerly) over his eyes and repeats, only a little louder, “Kayla said I was being a big baby.”

When Nico doesn’t respond right away, Will pulls his hand back a fraction to see his boyfriend fighting a smile.

“What?” Will asks flatly.

“Well, were you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“It kind of is, though.” Nico’s pretty sure now that Will isn’t grievously injured, but even so, he sits down extra carefully on the bed next to him.

“What can I do for you?” Nico asks, trying not to sound condescending. He thinks he manages. Mostly.

“Nothing. It’s fine. You can just leave me to my misery like everyone else,” Will pouts.

“Come on, what do you need? Morphine? Chicken soup? I can help you write your last will and testament.”

Will huffs.

“Want me to summon a zombie chiropractor?”

“What, really?” Will blinks.

Nico considers. “I mean, I don’t know any personally. But we could ask Jules-Albert.”

Will wrinkles his nose. “Let’s call that Plan B.”

“I can melt all the flesh off your bones if you want,” Nico offers. “But that’s not super… reversible. I wouldn’t really recommend it.”

Will’s mouth twitches into an almost-smile, and Nico shifts to lie down next to him, reaching for his hand. “Wanna tell me what’s really going on?” he asks, more gently.

Will sighs, looking defeated. “Archery practice ran late last night and I ended up missing dinner and then I was late for my shift at the infirmary. Then I ripped the pocket of my favourite hoodie on the fucking infirmary door and ended up eating six granola bars for dinner because Austin had eaten all the sandwiches we keep in the fridge in there. I got to bed after midnight but then I couldn’t sleep because I was pissed off about the fucking hoodie and the granola bars. This morning I woke up with this damn kin - crick. Crick in my neck. And it hurts,” he finishes pathetically.

There’s a long pause, in which Will’s gaze rests on their joined hands, his face set in a frown.

“The green hoodie?” Nico asks.

“Yeah,” Will says dejectedly.

“I like that one.”

“I know. You keep stealing it.”

Nico smiles. “Yeah.”

“My neck does hurt, but… mostly I’m just feeling crummy and grouchy,” Will says reluctantly after a moment.

“So you don’t need morphine?”

Will snorts.

“You’re having a rotten day and you want some sympathy?”

“Maybe.”

Nico shifts closer, pressing his lips to Will’s. Will sighs, squeezing his fingers. Nico takes that as a sign to kiss him a bit more. Although honestly Nico will happily take just about anything as a sign to kiss Will a bit more.

There’s quiet for a long moment, and Nico sinks pleasantly into the familiar pressure of Will’s lips warm against his, their mingled breath, Will’s eyelashes brushing his cheeks. Will tastes like cinnamon gum and coffee. Nico pulls away and Will’s eyes slowly blink open.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You know I’m always happy to comfort you if you rip your hoodie, or even if you like… get a paper cut,” Nico tells Will.

Will looks sheepish, but pleased.

“You're always allowed to ask for comfort, okay? You don’t even need a reason. All you have to do is tell me. We all need extra attention sometimes.”

Will smiles softly. “Listen to you. When did you get so smart?”

Nico shrugs. “Maybe I’ve been listening to some smart guy.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah.” Nico brushes the hair off Will’s forehead. It’s extra messy. He kind of likes it.

“Want me to cuddle you?”

“Can you?”

“Of course. Idiot,” Nico adds affectionately. “I just gotta go train some anklebiters for an hour. After that I’m all yours. Can you wait?”

Will nods, looking happier.

Nico kisses him once more and stands, looking around for his sword.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be alternating heat and ice?” Nico asks, remembering what he’s heard Will tell campers in the infirmary. “You want me to grab an ice pack on my way back?”

“Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

“Or I could just use my cold, dead heart,” Nico deadpans.

“I thought you gave that up.”

Nico smiles fondly at the other boy. "Yeah. I guess I did."

[teacolouredink]

Double posting because I also finished ✨ her ✨ I thought about drawing a couple more lalaloopsy characters before posting but I'm too impatient haha I love how she turned out so much ;u; 🩷🩷 lil pie cutie!! (a literal cutie pie omg!!) I also took slight creative liberties and added an extra stripe of cream on her dress to tie in the ice cream scoop better! I can't wait to draw more of them aaa ESPECIALLY THE UMBRELLA ONE SHES SO COOL!!

[ihamtmus]

.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.

[cellabella-illuminates]

May 11th - Month of Mary

This icon was created from an older drawing I did in ballpoint pen based on Our Lady of Sorrows.

[skiagraphe0]

I know exactly where it comes from: the idea all adults are evil predators who can only be in fandom spaces because they want to prey on kids. For years, people have been freaking out about adults being in the same Discord as a minor (gasp!) even though the server's topic is Animal Crossing, or been freaked out teenagers are on Reddit where adults are even though the only subreddits they have in common is r/watercolor. "Be afraid!" people scream, eyes wide in fear, "I heard a grown-up might be there and they'll unalive you or grap3 you!"

It used to be - and definitely was when I was growing up - that an adult speaking to a minor was not considered a massive risk. Adults were not seen as suspicious in hobby spaces, because it was understood that adulthood didn't mean giving up everything you'd ever liked. As the moral panic got worse, however, a sinister motive was assigned to pretty much everything. You're an adult, but you read books? Uh, books are sold at stores, and minors go to stores! You're an adult, but you play video games? Uh, minors also play games! You write fic and post it to the internet? Uh, don't you know minors are online? You're so scary!

There's also this idea a lot of Gen Z kids have that adulthood = the death of joy. When I got my master's degree, I was in classes with 18-24 year olds who were absolutely stunned that I still watch anime, play video games, read books, sew, draw, write fanfic, listen to pop music, etc. It was very odd, explaining to them that I just never thought of not doing things I like. I could tell this explanation was both confusing to them and made perfect sense. They had been told you become a husk at 30 and simply work, poop, sleep, and then one day die. They could also piece together that it wasn't logical for me to stop listening to music and drawing because I'd hit an age.

"But you're not weird about it, right?" was a question I got, often said with genuine anxiety. I would furrow my brow, confused, and ask, "I'm not sure what a 'weird' way to listen to music is? Or how to be weird about playing a game? I guess I don't, like, make room for Jesus when I make my Animal Crossing island or anything."

My dad is 84 and reads Star Trek fanfic/keeps up with the new shows.

My neighbor is 54 and loves Disney and is helping sew cosplays for her granddaughter/teaching her granddaughter how to sew.

The manager at my local Joann Fabrics is 60 and she just did her first cosplay.

Animator/artist/illustrator Tyrus Wong was still drawing and working on concept art for an idea to pitch when he died at 105.

The notion that adulthood means being miserable and sobbing in corner somewhere (if male) or tending to children (if female) and nothing else until you die is extremely recent. It's not supported by basically anything other than their own anxiety about anyone older than then being nearby. But the thing they don't seem to grasp is that their fear about someone posting someone or reading something isn't what anyone else is going to base their lives on.

If it scares you that someone has a hobby past the age you think that should be allowed, I'm sorry for you. That genuinely sounds like a lot of anxiety. Your life sounds really hard and really miserable.

But you're not my patient and I'm not a therapist. I can't help you. I can pray you get better, but that's it.

I'm not going anywhere. Neither are most people - if anything, fandom going more mainstream means we're going to see an increasingly higher number of adults getting into it, at the same time as kids into it age into being an adult.

If adults scare you, fandom isn't the hobby for you.

Fandom Problem #7211:

As someone who's almost 30, I legitimately do not understand why people on this site treat you like you're totally geriatric and incapable of having hobbies or interests. It's always "lol this person is THIRTY, they must have no life!!". I find age is weaponized most of all with censorship advocates who go, "imagine being 30 and still shipping characters on TUMBLR 💀".

[momentomori24]

To any pet owners or really anyone who might be unaware about this thing, I highly recommend watching Charlie's video covering this actual death device sketchy ass ""automatic litter box"", which completely faulty and downright dangerous design has been killing the intended users in horrific ways (aka the cats). His video was made to spread awareness about and boost One Man Five Cats' video on the subject, so go watch that one too. Needless to say but I will say it anyway: if animal death is something that (understandably) triggers you, please watch at your own discretion.

I don't own a pet, let alone a cat, but if this situation has shown me anything it's that you should just stick to the regular litter box. I'm no expert on litter boxes by any means, but risking the life of your cat is not worth making your life more a little automated when it doesn't need to be. While it would be nice to live in a world where these products could be trusted not to kill someone and the companies behind them take regulations and safety as a priority, it is what it is. Culturally, it is what it is.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent things.. mostly just writing screenshots lol

[front-facing-pokemon]

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

i was only gonna put this in the tags, but it'd be too long, honestly. i love Kate and always loved working with her and this video is another reason added as to why. what she said is all so true and so fucked up - and starting 2007 and onwards (when Foundations was released), she even was a (what i'd call) concretely mid-sized artist who released music that was VERY in-trend at that time (2008-2015's love for indie pop and indie rock; which was also my main breadwinner genre during that time). she had quite substantial support tours and festival slots, as well (at least in the UK and most of Europe) and the fact that she's still obviously struggled and is still struggling is WILD and disheartening (and sadly, harsh reality).

this is obviously a very broad discussion with the many different sizes of artists and tours and depending on how much or little financial budget is made available through a label/tour agency/artist themselves/etc., but like Gina said: "No wonder so many artists cancel tours" and this is very true!

getting a tour off the ground, in my personal work experience of the past 15+ years, has always been tough, but it's getting harder and harder and fucking harder.

listen, i'm Live Nation's biggest hater for a reason. already loathed their 'work practices' since 2010 (with which i am very familiar with, obviously). won't go into detail here, but it's not gotten better in the slightest. LN claims to not be a monopoly, but just as with their daughter company Ticketmaster, they've been encroaching on the live tour industry for decades with no sign of stopping. and yeah, that company is one of the final bosses in a bigger picture; but there's also shit like the aforementioned ticketmaster and associated smaller companies using their status and influence to scoop up venue after venue and tour agency after tour agency ("no compliance? no shows/artists for you and we have the biggest ones! go ahead and starve then!") for exclusive ticketing/artist contracts, which always include a new magical fee on top of another one. it has become outrageous! and can you guess how much of that is funnelled to the artist? correct. NONE of it.

i had artists insist on a certain low-as-possible ticket price (which is fair and noble) and with ticketing fees, it was suddenly double! and especially if you're not a big enough artist or agency, it's impossible to refuse. i've torn out so much hair over this, is2g..

not to mention the shift from tour agencies hiring local promoters to do the shows to the agencies skipping that step entirely to do the shows themselves and ~streamline the process (see also: save money), leaving local promoters all over the world in the dust. and can you imagine what happens when a not-local agency (meaning: a Finland-based agency booking a show in Argentina or a US-based agency booking something in Czech Republic) tries to promote shows to areas and with venues they are not at all familiar with and they also sure as hell don't budget in location-specific + demography-specific promo for the concert? -- exactly. low as hell ticket sales! - which either the marketing/PR firm or the artist themselves will take the blame for. similar to management, labels and/or tour agencies demanding the artist "go with the times" and do "more legwork" to "promote themselves" (through social media, of course) and refusing to give big enough budgets for tour promo and then tour promoters having to choose between two half-empty cups of Nothing. or when, say, an act like Kate Nash is already well-known in the UK and scheduled to tour the entirety of Europe, but since management wants the good promo & press for a "sold out tour in the UK!", most of the budget goes towards the UK and almost nothing's left for the rest of Europe and you don't even break even on those shows and the tour agency is all pikachu-face in your e-mails.

i can't possibly count the times where i had to ask bands and/or mgmt the gruelling question if they'd possibly rather cancel dates or entire tours - or when I even had to recommend it honestly - or the times i was asked that question and had to discuss it with my artists. can you imagine what that does to the mind of an artist?? a cancelled tour because of low sales or a tour that runs into red numbers is like a stain on your resumé and future partners will potentially not even invest in another tour with you; give you a harder deal or ask the artist for a financial security clause. and like i said, this is still all in the realm of artists in Kate's size range. for smaller artists, it's ten times harder.

so i will leave this saying -- if available, please buy tickets through independent (but obviously legitimate! please never use scam sites like viagogo!) local ticket shops; if you can't go in person, they usually have web shops, too. and for the love of 1D, please buy merch at shows!! (or if you can't go in person, buy it in their official merch stores, if you don't buy secondhand). Merch remains the only source of income that goes to the artist as direct as still possible nowadays! (depending on the artist size, the artist or tour promoter/agency has to pay a merch fee or even sells through a hired merch service, but oftentimes even those few people are part of the travelling tour fam who manage the distribution at venues) -- from personal experience, the merch sales were so, so many times what saved the tour from not meeting break even or was the only true profit made. merch sale numbers get completely counted into the end count of potential financial success of a tour.

but i know the people to really address about this aren't the fans. it's the money-greedy people in their capitalist conglomerates who have the real power here; who sit on their millions and reap their annual dividends and couldn't give less of a fuck about the artists, art or music, than how much money they're/it's making them.

Kate Nash on the financial reality of being a touring artist.

x

[anghraine]

I was thinking about f!Gale again and what I would/would not alter, if (theoretically) I were to write more fic than the snippets currently jumping into my brain. But a lot of the appeal lies in the character simply being a woman, though I think some things would register differently even if they went unchanged.

But it's like ... changing nothing, f!Gale would be a superficially normal, greying, middle-aged human woman in this buckwild setting who turns out to be a brilliant academic and powerful wizard who firmly presents herself to the world as an attractive and appealing woman (and is). I would love that for her!

—FWIW I do already like that Gale is visibly aging, to the annoyance of some extremely petty fans, but I would like it about 100x more for a woman.

And on top of that, she would be a woman whose pleasantness comes across as smooth eloquence even though she can be deeply awkward, and whose character combines personal kindness, good will, and a truly staggering level of hubris.

Also, she's so compelling and prodigious that she dated(after a fashion) the literal goddess of magic whom she clearly venerates, only for it to go horribly wrong, and in my game, she then proceeded to have an affair with a priestess of the same goddess.

I mean, apart from the cool middle-aged lady wizard thing, the level of sheer queer audacity there would just be incredible. I like canon Gale a lot, but changing nothing, f!Gale seems like such an icon.

[nexus-nebulae]

it's kinda funny how similar to my grandpa i am considering my birthday was three days after his

[kissentz]

wriothesley banner is such a fucking scam i can't... it was 60s PULL AND I SAW GOLD. you think it was wriothesley?

IT WAS QIQI. QIQI. QIQI!!!!!!!!!!

like, i have no problem with qiqi at all. BUT I WANTED FUCKING WRIOTHESLEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[marcelloandtyler]

"We don't know that it's dead. He might have just gotten a little bit of service and now he's out of range again. And if it has died, like I said. He's smart. If he doesn't have a charger, he'd find a gas station that sold one or something, if he needed his phone to get home," she said, unable to believe she was the one comforting him when she felt a bit worked about everything. In a way, it forced her to be calm to make sure Levi stayed calm. Logically, she knew they could do nothing about it right now and she trusted her brother to make smart decisions. Marcello had been really active and outdoorsy in recent years and he knew what to do in different situations. Even if he was stuck in his car, he would be alright. It'd likely only be a few hours before a plow could rescue him.

Still, she knew what it was like to spiral and knew that sometimes pointing out logic didn't help. She rubbed his back gently.

"Sure," she said. "That sounds great. Thanks." She got up. "I'm going to run and change quick and call Nico, but I'll be right back, okay?"

She nodded. "I hope so, too. But I think it will be okay," she said genuinely, even though her anxiety was poking at her.

Allegra quickly ran up to her room to change and dialed Nico on the way. He picked up, but she could hear one of the twins screaming in the background.

"Uh, bad time?" she asked.

"Always," Nico teased. "Have you heard from Marc?"

"No," she said. "That's why I was calling you. Levi came in to talk to me and told me he'd gone hiking. He actually texted Levi a little bit ago. Or... maybe earlier but it just came through. He has bad service, his phone's dying, and he's stuck in the snow? He said he'd be home tomorrow. He didn't say where he was, like... Levi's wondering if he was in his car stuck somewhere or maybe he'd gotten stuck on the mountain? But surely, if that were the case, he'd have said so or called for help if he needed it since he apparently had a bit of service? Anyway, I was hoping he might have messaged you."

"He didn't," Nico said. "That's alarming. But it sounds like he's probably alright if he sent a text that didn't sound panicked."

Allegra took a deep breath as she tugged on thick, comfy socks and a sweatshirt. She decided she would not go to the gym; Levi needed her more and she was too anxious to leave, afraid she might miss something about her brother's whereabouts.

"Do you guys need me to come over? Does Levi? I could get a sitter," he said.

"Oh, no. Well? I'll ask Levi," she said, deciding to let Levi decide.

"Yeah, ask him. Don't tell him I'll need a sitter. I don't want that to impact his needs. I'll be here, sitter on standby. Penny will only be out for a couple more hours, so no biggy."

"Okay. I'll text you shortly."

"Okay."

They hung up and she hurried back down to Levi's side, crossing into the space. "Hey," she said. "Nico hasn't heard from him, but he offered to come over if you want him or need him to."

"But his phone is dead now. What if he didn't need it then but he needs it now?" Levi asked, frowning. He took in a deep breath and then furrowed his brows, feeling overwhelmed. He didn't need his thoughts to spiral like this.

"I bought food for us," he said quietly. "For Marcello and I for dinner. Uh, I could grab it, if you want. If you're hungry."

He took in a deep breath and then nodded his head at her words. "Yes, please. That would be good. Christ. I hope he's okay."