#Most fantasy movies and series

[chaoticstabby]

Rewatching the Chronicles of Narnia movies was somehow simultaneously an experience of rediscovering the absolute joy I probably felt the first time I watched them (especially The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe), and me going "oh, the bows actually bend! Oh, that's a perfectly executed fenestra! Oh, the costume design is so smart!" every two seconds

[pharawee]

So. The Hell Guard pilot. It's incredibly cheesy and kind of nondescript (except for the over-the-top fantasy elements).

But. The Chains of Heart pilot had a way cheaper and cheesier feel than the series too. Plus, this already has lots of sponsors and an announcement for 2025. I like the novel and I like the cast and I like over-the-top genre shows so count me in. 🤡

[falmerbrook]

I mentioned the other day that I’d rather maintain some excitement and optimism for future tes games until there’s actual evidence to make me feel otherwise, but what I would be a 100% doomer pessimist about would be if they ever tried to adapt anything tes related to film or tv. I’ve given so much thought to how I’d love to see it done, and I have so little faith for anyone to do anything cool or interesting with the world, that just about anything they did with it would disappoint me. There’s no way it could (realistically) actually be good in my eyes

[obsob]

Reading questions!: how many books have you read this year? worst book and best book? what are you reading now? <3

hello !!

-currently i have read 49 books this year tho quite a few of those were novellas . but some of them were like 800 pages so. balances!

-best books tied between: in memoriam / alice winn - the cloud roads / martha wells and fools errand / robin hobb -worst books: in the lives of puppets / tj klune (i fucking HATE tj klunes writing. and i also hate purposely written '''cosy'' fiction and forced found family stuff. why do i keep reading his books) and the cruel prince / holly black (girl none of these characters are likeable)

rn i am reading fools quest by robin hobb which is .....okay......ngl im not liking the fitz and the fool trilogy much rn i rlly didnt like fools assassin which honestly shouldve just been 'fitz makes questionable parenting decisions and struggles to run a household'. im not like getting the vibes. i might pause reading it or read smth else as well along side im undecided

[liveandletrain]

Explaining to people that one of the most formative influences on my style as a writer was Rosemary Sutcliff always feels like an exercise in futility because no one ever knows who she is :')

[illuxtre]

Between today and yesterday I watched all the hunger games movies for the first time (I had only watched the first one before) and let me tell you I was crying and genuinely horrified and sad by the end of it wow just WOW that was so depressingly realistic yall go there for FUN????

[letmeinnnnn]

Twilight Reboot???

So I heard tell of a Twilight TV series in the works. My sister was a HUGE Twilight fan. I never shared her passion; however, as someone who went to every movie with her and read most of the books for her- I have some thoughts.

1. Initially it just said a new series so I was hopeful it might be something new-- What I would’ve liked to see is a series going more in depth into the individual stories of each Cullen vampire and showing how they all came together

Unfortunately she tells me the series is planned to be just another remake.

2. Which leads to thought #2 which is that I’m ??? because Twilight as a film holds up today imo- like it doesn’t feel super outdated (I was shook to look up that it came out in 2008 fuck)

3. At the very least, I’ll be curious to see the cast

sidenote: the breaking dawn movies were the worst in many ways, but the thing that always killed me-- the hair stylist???? they dropped the ball at the last part! how did they manage to mess that up?! edward and jasper’s styles were busted in breaking dawn

[knightoflodis]

I really wish that this post included a list of different horror sub genres and movie recommendations for each. Because. Like. I like thrillers and some horror adjacent stuff. I prefer horror usually not set in modern day or at least not in modern day cities or suburbs. And I prefer sci-fi/fantasy plus things that happen in space or under water. Also. Children’s horror movies are perfect as well.

people who don’t watch horror movies are SO confident that they know everything there is to know about the genre. like it’s okay to not know things. it’s okay if you don’t like friday the 13th or whatever. i promise you don’t need to make an ass out of yourself on the internet about it

[feline-ranger]

In light of the sad news about Bernard Hill, I feel like we should take a moment to really appreciate the acting performances in the LOTR trilogy. The fact that none of the cast got Academy Awards is well-known and I think even now the sheer visual spectacle of the trilogy can overshadow everything else, but the performances were SO crucial to what made the films great.

It’s easy to take the success of the movies for granted now, but that was never a guarantee. Aside from the practical aspects of portraying such an epic fantasy onscreen, the series is peppered with dialogue that is fine on the page but unbelievably difficult to deliver. As Harrison Ford famously remarked to George Lucas re Star Wars “You can write this stuff, but you can’t say it.”

From Gandalf’s “To the Bridge of Khazad-Dum!” to Elrond’s “It must be cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came!” it would be so easy for the whole thing to collapse into farce. The only reason it doesn’t, is because of the talent and conviction of the actors.

Bernard Hill was tasked with one of the most objectively ridiculous lines in the entire trilogy. “The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time!” And he delivered. BOY, did he deliver. He gave it all the gravitas and emotional weight of Shakespeare, he made it truly rousing instead of ridiculous, he took the audience with him to that moment, that place, right into Middle Earth with its people and its history, and made it REAL.

And for that, I thank and salute him. RIP, sir. Go now to the halls of your fathers. You earned it.

[strawberry-miiiiiiiiiiiilk]

sitting in my room for a half hour thinking about how if we lived in a better world Ada Wong would be the Ilsa Faust of Resident Evil (primarily in how she's introduced in Rogue Nation), with a dynamic to leon not unlike Fujiko Mine's and Lupin's in which they are both extremely competent and in situations in which they may have to work against and occasionally with each other on a mission, but ultimately are forced to stay apart and while they may be apart and even have different love interests from each other, ultimately still care deeply for one another. They are compelled to go after each other in part because it's so difficult and they are so often in circumstances in which they can't be with each other. The thrill of the chase and all that.

Ada being only tangentially related to the other character's stories because the world is simply larger than them and she has her own concerns and problems to deal with, and to have that be given any care or weight in a story, let alone focus. That she can be cunning and even manipulative but because she needs to and will still choose not to when the chips are down because she is genuinely caring--which I know none of that is new ground for her but I wish it was done in a more interesting way and *without leon at all*. She chooses to show mercy in a key point not because she's in love with that other character.

And also that she has more personality. I dig the subdued nature of her in 4r and her subtle sarcasm but it's just crumbs. I want her to be silly on occasion and say dumb jokes because she's alone like in 2r. I want her to shed a bit of that seriousness when she's on the clock because she's confident in herself as a professional and again has no one to put up a façade to.

It's honestly kinda embarrassing reading this back as I realize most of what I'm writing is not only already present in the games but incredibly tropey in and of itself, and wouldn't improve the character much. Dear god I think too much of my view of the character has been marred by shallow fanworks depicting her. I think if anything it's a sign that:

I'm a shit writer and need to do way more than watch movies and gesture vaguely at them to come up w a decent story or character (that being said as much as I prefer Fallout as a film, I stand by my earlier statement of Ilsa Faust being the ideal spy woman as she's depicted in Rogue Nation as she has a distinct set of goals and needs that are complex and developed largely tangentially to the protagonist's, at least initially).

It's going to take a completely new approach to her character to get something remotely interesting and that takes advantage of her potential.

For as mired in tropes as she and every other character and story in Resident Evil is, Ada could be far more memorable and enjoyable if only there was more care and effort to giver at least some interests and goals (perhaps even...characterization) on her own other than being a sexy love interest and potentially traitorous (as so many femme fatales already are).

[revretch]

I've been thinking about if they released a Pokemon game themed around every type, and what they would be like.

Ghost: Most obvious, something like Luigi's Mansion. Very cute, spooky adventure in a big haunted house. Prominently features references to youkai and ghosts like Toilet Hanako.

Psychic: By contrast, the psychic game is actually sci-fi horror (as much as a Pokemon game could get by with it). Lavender Town vibes, would heavily feature Alakazam and Hypno.

Water: Epic underwater survival game like Subnautica.

Fighting: A martial arts story like a Jackie Chan movie, though probably more like Kung Fu Panda. All the characters are fighting-type Pokemon. Main character is a Mankey as a nod to Journey to the West.

Flying: Set on a flying island like The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom.

Dark: Another horror game, with a darkness-based sanity mechanic like Darkest Dungeon or Amnesia: The Dark Descent. (Though, probably a stat other than sanity.)

Fairy: A medieval fantasy RPG with a story evocative of old stories dealing with the fae.

Ground: Set deep underground, a cave exploration game.

Rock: Set on another planet/dimension, about mining strange alien mineral formations. Your choice whether the Pokemon were brought along, or somehow already there.

Steel: Pokemon meets gundam!

Electric: Expanding on the teleporter incident with Bill in the first game, following a series of teleporter fusion mishaps and figuring out how to fix them. Gameplay in the form of engineering puzzles.

Normal: A medical game where you work in a Pokemon Center doing surgery on Pokemon. Obviously heavily featuring Chansey.

Fire: A traveling circus act with acrobatics using the elaborate fire displays that fire-type Pokemon can make. The gameplay mechanic is both navigating the fire-based obstacle courses, and designing them for maximum style to garner approval from the audience.

Ice: A platformer where you make ice to proceed, and can trap your enemies in ice.

Grass: A first-person RPG set in a jungle, Jumanji vibes. You play a botanist trying to find a rare flower.

Poison: A Thief-like game where you sneak around and poison assassination targets in the most kid-friendly way possible. Possibly you play as a member of Team Rocket.

Dragon: Another medieval fantasy RPG, fairly typical DnD fare.

Bug: Saving my favorite type for last! A species identification game, featuring real bugs as well as Pokemon.

[pomefioredove]

so, I could request jamil, leona, vil, rook, azul, jade, rollo, malleus and lillia with a heroic fantasy lover reader (well, not so much fantasy, since it's basically a fantasy world. i mean, jaskaja, malleus is a freaking fairy prince). a reader who wakes up reading, watching series or movies in the genre, who makes his own maps of his worlds in the back of his notebooks in class, who in potions class takes notes for his own inventions, who starts inventing recipes in the kitchen and when he's supposed to be studying he's actually writing his fantasy stories or novels, maybe he's not even yuu, he's from another dimension! just another x student who is a bookworm. but that his sleep schedule starts to be affected by these habits when midterms come and at the same time he wins a major writing contest, and that between the hobby and the studies he sleeps, eats and rests less.

thanks and good day 💗💗!

of course! this is actually quite cute

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fantasy writer reader

type of post: headcanons characters: leona, azul, jade, jamil, rook, vil, lilia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

well, well, well

for all his teasing, and there has been a lot, Leona actually starts to like you

damn it...

you were just another wide-eyed, naive herbivore to him

and a little bookworm, too

and now...

strangely, he finds himself missing you

thinking about the stories you'd told him...

...even wanting you to ask him about his magic

which he did find annoying, but now, it's kind of endearing...

you do strange things to this man

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul will admit that he was... a little wrong about you

after all, when you first met, he took you as a rather naive person

so... curious

asking him about magic, the sea, potions and spells and...

well, he read that as innocence

for weeks, he answered all your questions, even showed you a few simple spells, all free of charge

...hoping that you'd come to trust him

then, you vanish

he later reads a fantasy story published in the school newspaper

...about him

you were just using him for fantasy character inspiration all along!?

...

...actually... that's quite flattering

he'll let you get away with this one

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade is drawn to you

and by that, I mean he finds you before you find him

so curious...

he can tell you've adapted to life at Night Raven College much quicker than most would

quicker than he did, even

and he's actually from Twisted Wonderland

magic doesn't surprise you, nor does the politics or history of this world...

how... interesting

he'll follow you around, asking question, reading your stories, never too far away from you

he's never met anyone so strange, really

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil can't imagine being from a world without magic

...and, apparently, neither can you

disregarding your... ahem... heroic interests, you fit right in at NRC

seriously, a few months here and you're already ahead of Kalim

...he could learn a thing or two from you...

it starts making sense when you tell Jamil that books from your world are full of magic

where you lack experience, you make up for in knowledge

he... respects that, actually

you're more well-read than most of his peers!

now, if only he could do something about that terrible sleep schedule of yours...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook thinks you have such a beautiful eye for detail

and a creative soul

of course, he knows a writer when he sees one

and you catch his eye right away

he just can't help it! such imagination, such talent... you inspire him just by being!

...okay, maybe he's a little overexcited

being a poet himself, it's not often he meets someone who understands the beauty of life like a fellow writer

he will eagerly read everything you give him

every story you write, every map you draw, even your own notes and potion recipes

...and he'll give you detailed praises on each one

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is already used to writer shenanigans

...too used to them, maybe

the last thing he wants is another Rook waxing poetically about a bug you saw on the north stairwell

at least you seem quiet

what really captivates him, though, is your interest in potionology

you're already at such an advanced level that you're making your own recipes

even if it's just for your stories, that takes some skill

you'll have to forgive him for fussing over your health and wellbeing

he can sense your potential

goodness, at this rate, you could replace him as housewarden by the end of the year

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

there's nothing Lilia likes more than a good story

after all, he's got lots of his own

so, to him, writers are the greatest thing since... whatever the hell he eats

and he can be a little... pushy

leering over your shoulder, pestering you to show him what you're working on...

he can't help it!

he's just so curious!

the one thing he's good for, though, is details

you ask him if this language, or outfit, or invention, is appropriate for the time period, and he'll be able to answer

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Malleus is always flattered by your curiosity

one might think that a human from a magicless world would be frightened by his appearance and his title

but you...

you're just curious

he likes answering your questions

you seem so interested in magic, he can't help but show off a little

he's already promised to show you around Briar Valley

and, of course, he loves hearing your stories

the ones you write, the ones you remember from home...

you're just a fascinating little human

and he always feels special when he's the first to read something you've written

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now...

Rollo doesn't quite understand you

no, actually-

he's jealous

not that he'd ever admit it...

but the thought of a world that is so devoid of magic that its people make fantasy of it is so very enticing...

...he's willing to excuse your childish interest

and indulge you in your maps and your potions and your stories

you don't know any better

but to him, your world is the fantastical one, not his

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part three

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant

WC: 12.4K

A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.

Series Masterlist

He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.

So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.

But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.

That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.

"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.

"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."

He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.

"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.

"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"

Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.

"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."

He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.

"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.

He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.

His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.

"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.

"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."

"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.

"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"

"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.

You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.

"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.

His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.

"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.

You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.

"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.

"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.

You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.

Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.

Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta

Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut

You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.

"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.

"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.

"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.

"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.

"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.

"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.

"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.

"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.

"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.

He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.

But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.

"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"

He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.

"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.

"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.

"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.

"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.

You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?

He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.

"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.

"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.

"Should be fun," you said.

"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.

"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.

"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"

"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.

"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.

"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.

"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"

Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.

"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.

"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.

"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.

"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.

"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."

Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.

"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"

"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.

"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."

"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.

"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.

Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.

You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.

Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.

You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.

You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.

You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?

You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.

Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??

You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.

Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess

Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.

Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.

Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.

Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.

You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap

With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.

You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.

Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.

Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.

"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.

"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.

"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.

"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.

Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."

Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.

"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.

"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.

You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.

Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.

"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.

"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.

"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.

"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.

"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.

"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.

"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.

"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.

"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.

"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.

"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.

"Do you love her?"

Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.

"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.

"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.

"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.

He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.

"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.

Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.

"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.

"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."

You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.

Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.

"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.

A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.

"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.

"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"

"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."

"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.

"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.

"You heard her," he said with a grin.

"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.

"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.

"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.

"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.

But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.

"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.

"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.

You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.

Joel Miller: Miss you already.

"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.

When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.

"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"

You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.

"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.

"What?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"

"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."

"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."

You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.

"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."

"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.

"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.

"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.

"These are in Austin," you said slowly.

"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."

"Cas-"

"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"

"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.

"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.

"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.

"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.

"What?"

"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."

"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."

"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"

"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.

"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.

"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.

"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.

"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.

"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.

"I heard about that, might be a lot."

"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"

The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.

"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.

When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.

"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.

Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.

"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.

"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.

"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."

"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.

"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.

"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."

"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."

After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.

Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.

"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.

"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.

"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?

"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.

"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.

"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.

"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.

You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.

Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.

You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.

"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.

You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.

He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.

"It's not a big deal, just-"

"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.

"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."

"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."

You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.

"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.

"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

"We're going to New York City?!"

"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."

You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.

"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"

He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome," you said with a smile.

He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.

After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.

When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.

The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.

"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.

"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.

"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.

Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.

The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.

When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.

"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.

"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."

He nodded and took a shaky breath in.

He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.

"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."

You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.

Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.

"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.

"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yep," was all Joel said in response.

"What time's her flight?"

"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.

"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."

"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.

"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.

"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.

"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.

"Yeah, but-"

"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."

"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.

"Get goin'."

Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.

Joel Miller: You awake?

He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.

You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.

"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.

"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.

"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.

He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.

"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.

"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.

"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.

"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.

"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.

"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.

"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."

He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.

You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.

So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.

You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.

He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.

"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.

"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.

He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.

"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.

"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.

"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.

God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.

"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.

"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.

You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.

He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.

You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.

"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.

You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.

"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.

"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"

"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.

"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.

You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.

"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.

You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.

"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"

"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.

She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.

You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.

"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.

"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.

Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.

He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.

The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.

"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.

"What?"

"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.

"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.

Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.

"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.

"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."

"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."

Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.

"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.

"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."

"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.

"'Course I didn't ask her-"

"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.

"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.

"Did you tell her that you love her?"

Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.

"How did-"

"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.

"Go get her, Dad."

Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.

He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.

"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"

"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.

"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."

"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"

"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.

"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.

"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.

"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.

He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.

He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.

What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -

"Joel?"

He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.

"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.

"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.

"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."

He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.

"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.

You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."

"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."

Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.

"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.

As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.

He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.

And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

[mask131]

So... Wicked is coming back in style. And as such I need to make a little informative post.

Because since as early as my arrival onto the Internet, in the distant years of the late 2000s, a lot of people have been treating Wicked as some sort of "official" part of the Oz series. As part of the Oz canon or as THE "original" work everything else derives from (literaly, some people, probably kids, but did believe the MGM movie was made BASED on Wicked...) And as an Oz fan, that bothers me.

[Damn, ever since I watched Coco Peru's videos her voice echoes in my brain each time I say this line.]

So here's a few FACTS for you facts lovers.

The Wicked movie that is coming out right now (I was sold this as a series, turns out it is a movie duology?) is a cinematic adaptation of the stage musical Wicked created by Schwartz and Holzman, the Broadway classic and success of the 2000s (it was created in 2003).

Now, the Wicked musical everybody knows is itself an adaptation - and this fact is not as notorios, somehow? The Wicked musical is the adaptation of a novel released in 1995 by Gregory Maguire, called Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. A very loose and condensed adaptation to say the least - as the Wicked musical is basically a lighter and simplified take on a much darker, brooding and mature tale. Basically fans of the novel have accused the musical of being some sort of honeyed, sugary-sweet, highschool-romance-fanfic-AU, while those who enjoyed the musical and went to see the novel are often shocked at discovering their favorite musical is based on what is basically a "dark and edgy - let's shock them all" take on the Oz lore. (Some do like both however, apparently? But I rarely met them.)

A side-fact which will be relevant later, is that this novel was but the first of a full series of novel Oz wrote about a dark-and-adult fantasy reimagining of the land of Oz - there's Son of a Witch, A Lion Among Men, Out of Oz, and more.

However the real fact I want to point out is that Maguire's novel, from which the musical itself derives, is a "grimmification" (to take back TV Tropes terminology) of the 1939 MGM movie The Wizard of Oz. The movie everybody knows when it comes to Oz, but that everybody forgets is itself the adaptation of a book - the same way people forget the Wicked musical is adapted from a novel. The MGM movie is adapted from L. Frank Baum's famous 1900 classic for children The Wonderful Wizard of Oz - and a quite loose adaptation that reimagines a lot of elements and details.

Now, a lot of people present Maguire's novel as being based/inspired/a revisionist take on Baum's novel... And that's false. Maguire's Wicked novel is clearly dominated by and mainly influenced by the MGM movie, with only a few book elements and details sprinkled on top. Mind you, the sequels Maguire wrote do take more elements, characters and plot points from the various Oz books of Baum... But they stay mostly Maguire's personal fantasy world. Yes, Oz "books" in plural - because that's a fact people tend to not know either... L. Frank Baum didn't just write one book about the Land of Oz. He wrote FOURTEEN of them, an entire series, because it was his most popular sales, and his audience like his editor pressured him to produce more (in fact he got sick of Oz and tried to write other books, but since they failed he was forced to continue Oz novels to survive). Everybody forgot about the Oz series due to the massive success of the starter novel - but it has a lot of very famous sequels, such as The Marvelous Land of Oz or Ozma of Oz (the later was loosely adapted by Disney as the famous 80s nostalgic-cursed movie Return to Oz).

So... To return to my original point. The current Wicked movies are not directly linked in any way to Baum's novel. The Wicked musical was already as "canon" and as "linked" to the MGM movie as 2013's Oz The Great and Powerful by Disney was. As for Maguire's novel, due to its dark, mature, brooding and more complex worldbuilding nature, I can only compare it to the recent attempt at making a "Game of Thrones Oz" through the television series Emerald City.

The Wicked movies coming out are separated from Baum's novel at the fourth degree. Because they are the movie adaptation of a musical adaptation of a novel reinventing a movie adaptation of the original children book.

And I could go even FURTHER if you dare me to and claim the Wicked movies are at the 5TH DEGREE! Because a little-known-fact is that the MGM movie was not a direct adaptation of Baum's novel... But rather took a lot of cues and influence from the massively famous stage-extravaganza of 1902 The Wizard of Oz... A musical adaptation of Baum's novel, created and written by Baum himself, and that was actually more popular than the novel in the pre-World War II America. It was from this enormous Broadway success (my my, how the snake bites its tail - the 1902 Wizard of Oz was the musical Wicked of its time) that, for example, the movie took the idea of the Good Witch of the North killing the sleeping-poppies with snow.

[physalian]

Pacing your Story (Or, How to Avoid the "Suddenly...!")

Arguably *the* most important lesson all writers need to learn, even for those who don’t give a damn about themes and motifs and a moral soap box: How your story is paced, whether it’s a comic book, a children’s chapter book, a doorstopper, a mini series, a movie, or a full-length season of TV (old school style), pacing is everything.

Pacing determines how long the story *feels* regardless of how long it actually is. It can make a 2 hour movie feel like 90 mins or double the time you’re trapped in your seat.

There’s very little I can say about pacing that hasn’t been said before, but I’m here to condense all that’s out there into a less intimidating mouthful to chew.

So: What is pacing?

Pacing is how a story flows, how quickly or slowly the creator moves through and between scenes, how long they spend on setting, narration, conversation, arguments, internal monologues, fight scenes, journey scenes. It’s also how smoothly tone transitions throughout the story. A fantasy adventure jumping around sporadically between meandering boredom, high-octane combat, humor, grief, and romance is exhausting to read, no matter how much effort you put into your characters.

Anyone who says the following is wrong:

Good pacing is always fast/bad pacing is always slow

Pacing means you are 100% consistent throughout the entire story

It doesn’t matter as much so long as you have a compelling story/characters/lore/etc

Now let me explain why in conveniently numbered points:

1. Pacing is not about consistency, it’s about giving the right amount of time to the right pieces of your story

This is not intuitive and it takes a long time to learn. So let’s look at some examples:

Lord of the Rings: The movies trimmed a *lot* from the books that just weren’t adaptable to screen, namely all the tedious details and quite a bit of the worldbuilding that wasn’t critical to the journey of the Fellowship. That said, with some exceptions, the battles are as long as they need to be, along with every monologue, every battle speech. When Helm’s Deep is raging on, we cut away to Merry and Pippin with the Ents to let ourselves breathe, then dive right back in just before it gets boring.

The Hobbit Trilogy: The exact opposite from LotR, stretching one kids book into 3 massive films, stuffing it full of filler, meandering side quests, pointless exposition, drawing out battles and conflicts to silly extremes, then rushing through the actual desolation of Smaug for… some reason.

Die Hard (cause it’s the Holidays y’all!): The actiony-est of action movies with lots of fisticuffs and guns and explosions still leaves time for our hero to breathe, lick his wounds, and build a relationship with the cop on the ground. We constantly cut between the hero and the villains, all sharing the same radio frequency, constantly antsy about what they know and when they’ll find out the rest, and when they’ll discover the hero’s kryptonite.

2. Make every scene you write do at least two things at once

This is also tricky. Making every scene pull double duty should be left to after you’ve written the first draft, otherwise you’ll never write that first draft. Pulling double duty means that if you’re giving exposition, the scene should also reveal something about the character saying it. If you absolutely must write the boring trip from A to B, give some foreshadowing, some thoughtful insight from one of your characters, a little anecdote along the way.

Develop at least two of the following:

The plot

The backstory

The romance/friendships

The lore

The exposition

The setting

The goals of the cast

Doing this extremely well means your readers won’t have any idea you’re doing it until they go back and read it again. If you have two characters sitting and talking exposition at a table, and then those same two characters doing some important task with filler dialogue to break up the narrative… try combining those two scenes and see what happens.

**This is going to be incredibly difficult if you struggle with making your stories longer. I do not. I constantly need to compress my stories. **

3. Not every scene needs to be crucial to the plot, but every scene must say something

I distinguish plot from story like a square vs a rectangle. Plot is just a piece of the tale you want to tell, and some scenes exist just to be funny, or romantic, or mysterious, plot be damned.

What if you’re writing a character study with very little plot? How do you make sure your story isn’t too slow if 60% of the narrative is introspection?

Avoid repeating information the audience already has, unless a reminder is crucial to understanding the scene

This isn’t 1860 anymore. Every detail must serve a purpose. Keep character and setting descriptions down to absolute need-to-know and spread it out like icing on a cake – enough to coat, but not give you a mouthful of whipped sugar and zero cake.

Avoid describing generic daily routines, unless the existence of said routine is out of ordinary for the character, or will be rudely interrupted by chaos. No one cares about them brushing their teeth and doing their hair.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much. E.g. two characters sitting and talking – do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them gesture, wave, frown, laugh, cross their legs, their arms, shift around to get comfortable, pound the table, roll their eyes, point, shrug, touch their face, their hair, wring their hands, pick at their nails, yawn, stretch, pout, sneer, smirk, click their tongue, clear their throat, sniff/sniffle, tap their fingers/drum, bounce their feet, doodle, fiddle with buttons or jewelry, scratch an itch, touch their weapons/gadgets/phones, check the time, get up and sit back down, move from chair to table top – the list goes on. Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t – what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

4. Your entire work should not be paced exactly the same

Just like a paragraph should not be filled with sentences of all the same length and syntax. Some beats deserve more or less time than others. Unfortunately, this is unique to every single story and there is no one size fits all.

General guidelines are as follows:

Action scenes should have short paragraphs and lots of movement. Cut all setting details and descriptors, internal monologues, and the like, unless they service the scene.

Journey/travel scenes must pull double or even triple duty. There’s a reason very few movies are marketed as “single take” and those that are don’t waste time on stuff that doesn’t matter. See 1917.

Romantic scenes are entirely up to you. Make it a thousand words, make it ten thousand, but you must advance either the romantic tension, actual movement of the characters, conversation, or intimacy of the relationship.

Don’t let your conversations run wild. If they start to veer off course, stop, boil it down to its essentials, and cut the rest.

When transitioning between slow to faster pacing and back again, it’s also not one size fits all. Maybe it being jarring is the point – it’s as sudden for the characters as it is for the reader. With that said, try to keep the “suddenly”s to a minimum.

5. Pacing and tone go hand in hand

This means that, generally speaking, the tone of your scene changes with the speed of the narrative. As stated above, a jarring tonal shift usually brings with it a jarring pacing shift.

A character might get in a car crash while speeding away from an abusive relationship. A character who thinks they’re safe from a pursuer might be rudely and terrifyingly proven wrong. An exhausting chase might finally relent when sanctuary is found. A quiet dinner might quickly turn romantic with a look, or confession. Someone casually cleaning up might discover evidence of a lie, a theft, an intruder and begin to panic.

--

Whatever the case may be, a narrative that is all action all the time suffers from lack of meaningful character moments. A narrative that meanders through the character drama often forgets there is a plot they’re supposed to be following.

[choslut]

── 脹相 + 九十九 由基 : CLUB DEMON !!

‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ˖ starring incubus!CHOSO and succubus!TSUKUMO YUKI

꒷꒦꒷ becoming addicted to a mysterious man and his best friend (?) was not on this year’s bingo card, but now that it’s happened, it seems like there’s no way out…

this movie contains the following . . .threesome, slight crack, masturbation, supernatural activity, slight choyuki, sexual fantasies, slight voyeurism, pet names, clubbing, oral sex, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, nipple play, voice kink, tribbing/scissoring, cum swallowing, making out

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs do not interact with this work or any other in the THRILLER series.

Your love life sucks. Like, actually sucks. Sure, you’re only in university and you have the rest of your young adult life to live out before you eventually decide to settle down, but alas, with university comes couples, and with couples comes that overarching feeling of complete and utter loneliness. 

The strong feeling of solitude especially peaks during times like this, when couples are completely occupied with choosing matching Halloween costumes and planning dates whilst you sit and nibble at the end of your pen and try to completely block them out. It’s annoying, because you don’t have anyone to match cheesy costumes with or go trick-or-treating with, and will most likely be spending Halloween night completely and utterly alone.

And it isn’t like you can control it, either. You’re pretty enough, but not in the way the other girls are, the girls who’d look good in a trash bag and can attract any type of male (or even female) attention with just a batter of their eyelids. You envy them, but again, nothing you can do, so you just sit and watch on in forlorn.

Every night is spent alone. Your roommates suck just as much as your romantic life does. They’re out every night getting wasted or worse, and sometimes, they bring back dates that suck just as much as they do, and in more ways than one. You could say that’s the one disadvantage to having paper-thin walls separating you from complete strangers, but there aren’t any advantages to having paper-thin walls, so you digress.

Getting off in student accommodation is fucking impossible. You bought an alleged ‘silent vibrator’ that was just about as quiet as a fully revved up chainsaw, and every night alone you become subject to your fingers and a handful of shitty porn, working yourself up to a weak high before calling it a night and throwing in the towel. Complain as you might, life doesn’t get better after this, and you actually consider dropping out, just so you can finally find someone who can deal with (and perhaps, fall in love with) your mediocre self. 

You don’t need help. You need to get laid, and the only way to do that is to drop the nonchalant act and finally get out,

It’s cold. It’s October, so of course it is, but you curse yourself for not wearing something a little more… practical. The chilling wind bites at the back of your legs with every step, and you wrap your arms tightly around yourself as you try to keep up with the rest of the group.

“Don’t look so grim, sweetcheeks, we’re drinking tonight!” You’re confused as to how your roommate (read: a raging alcoholic) is more excited to go drinking than you are considering her tendency to do it every other night. You crack a weak smile in her direction.

“I’m pumped,” you grit out as enthusiastically as possible. “Just a bit cold.”

“Y’just need a couple of shots and a cute guy, sweetie, ‘n you’ll warm up real fast.”

You can’t wait for tonight to be over.

– 

You’ve found the one. 

He stands against the wall of the club with a glass of what seems to be… water in his hand, and he looks just about as enthusiastic as you to be here. He’s cute, spiky black hair tied up in messy bunches on his head and a few strands hanging over his face, with a striking black strip tattoo staining his nose bridge. He doesn’t look like the type of person to be at a club, but he fits in perfectly, and when he notices you staring, he flashes a small smile.

Sure, it might just be a quirk of the lip, but your alcohol-addled brain takes it as him inviting you over, so you finally hoist yourself off of the bar stool and dip and dive between dancing people before finally sauntering over to him.

“You look bored. Clubbing not your scene?”

He takes a sip of his what-looks-like-water and smiles at you with that same small one he flashed you just minutes ago. “Not really. Here with a friend.” He nods his head towards the dancefloor, and your eyes lock on what looks like the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

It sounds like a stretch, but she’s not like all the other run of the mill pretty girls you’ve seen. Her hair is a striking blonde, and she’s not wearing a dress, instead wearing a pair of denim booty shorts and what looks like a bikini top. She’s not dressed for the biting cold outside, but she looks borderline ethereal, and you can’t take your eyes off of her, even when the dark haired man begins to speak up again.

“I’m Choso,” he yells over the music, eyes trained on the back of your neck as he watches you (very obviously) check out his dancing friend. “And she’s Yuki. She swings both ways. Want her number?”

Suddenly, you become incredibly self aware of your staring in her direction, and you whip back towards Choso, giving yourself an embarrassing amount of whiplash in the process. “N-no! She’s just very pretty. I’ve never seen anyone like her before.”

“Yeah, my Yuki’s a looker, isn’t she?” Your mouth drops open in shock. His Yuki? Didn’t he just say they were just friends? 

You gape at him like a goldfish. “You’re together?” 

Choso smiles again, but this time, it’s a teasing type of smile. “Nah, just friends.” He winks at you before pushing himself off of the wall and downing the rest of his drink. “I’ll see you around.” 

And just like that, Choso is swallowed by the crowd. You look back at the dancefloor to steal another look at Yuki, but she’s gone too.

It’s almost like they were never there at all.

When you get home in the early hours of the morning, your head is throbbing, but you somehow remember every detail of the night, right up until Choso disappeared. It was so strange, yet they were both so alluring…

… you never even got their numbers.

You groan into your pillow. So much for Choso being the one, you’re probably never going to see him again. 

Of its own volition, your mind slips to the image of Yuki on the dancefloor, her hands trailing down her body sensually as she moved in fluidity with the booming music. She was so pretty, and although you’ve never had experience with anyone, let alone another woman, you find yourself trailing your hands down your body in that same manner, fingertips brushing against the material of your dress as you finally reach your core.

No way. There’s no way you’re doing this, drunk out of your mind and fully dressed in a room with paper-thin walls, with the thoughts of a woman you never even spoke to plaguing your mind like a disease. Suddenly, it’s no longer Yuki you’re thinking about but Choso, his spiky hair and cocky attitude along with his deep voice, a distinguishable sound amongst the booming bass of the club. His is the voice you imagine in your ear as you begin to strum your clit gently.

How would they feel? Choso and Yuki at the same time, him next to your ear and her in between your legs. You only spoke to Choso once and to Yuki not at all, but they’re all you think about when you slip a finger inside, eyes fluttering shut as you frantically search for that sweet spot inside of your cunt. 

There it is. Your back arches off the bed and you release a garbled moan of Choso and Yuki’s names, head growing delirious as your finger moves faster. Add another, something tells you, and you obey, sliding in a second finger alongside your first and pulling the neck of your dress down to allow your tits to bounce out. 

It feels good. They’d feel good, and that’s what you convince yourself when you cum with a strained whine, spine clicking as your back arches sharply off of the mattress. The orgasm assaults you in waves, and it’s the best you’ve felt a in a while. You ride the waves of your climax eagerly, and when you finally come down, the buzz of the alcohol hits, and you knock out almost immediately.

Before you finally succumb to sleep, you come up with a manifesto. You need to find them again. You need to get that sweet release from their hands, cum on their terms, be theirs completely.

When you suggest going clubbing again the next week, your roommates are shocked. “You? Clubbing?”

“It was fun,” you shrug, taking a sip of your coffee. “We should go again.”

One of them pipes up. “That sounds great! I know a new joint opening downtown, we should totally-”

“It has to be the same one.” Yes, you sound demanding, but you can’t take the chance of going to a different club. What if they’re not there? No, that won’t do. It has to be the same one.

“We never go to the same club twice.”

“Well I want to go to that one. I’ll go alone.”

Your second roommate groans. “Well, we can’t let you go alone. That’s like, against girl code.” She slips an arm around your shoulders, and it feels almost suffocating. “I’ll go if you’re going.”

And just like that, you’re at the same club, in the same dress, at the same time, but Choso and Yuki are nowhere to be found. This has to be some kind of twisted joke.

By this time, you’re desperate. You’re asking anyone and everyone if they’ve seen a dark haired man with spiky bunches or a tall blonde lady, but nobody seems to have seen them, and you’re convinced you’ve hit a complete dead end. When one of your roommates catches your disappointed face, she’s just about as pissed as you are.

“You asked to come here, and you’re not even going to pretend to be happy?” She definitely isn’t sober, especially given the man kissing her neck and the glass of some strangely coloured drink in her hand. “Don’t be fucking boring. Go get laid or somethin’.”

So much for girl code, you think as you turn on your heel to leave. There’s no point in you being there anywhere, especially if the people you went there to see weren’t there either. It sounds superficial, but you never liked clubbing anyways. 

The walk home is long and cold. Without the prominent buzz of alcohol warning your system, you feel like a walking ice cube, heels biting at your ankles and arms wrapped around your torso pathetically. 

When you finally arrive home, the apartment is empty, and all the lights are off. You’re silently grateful for the solitude, but as you flop onto your bed, tears begin to fill your eyes when you realise exactly how lonely you really are. You can keep telling yourself you don’t need a romantic or social life since your studies are all you need, but it gets increasingly harder by the day to convince yourself of this when all the people surrounding you are really living, whilst you just sit and stew like a complete loner.

Like clockwork, your hand travels in between your legs. Is this all you have? Yourself, you fingers and your thoughts for as long as you can remember, and even as you try your hardest to conjure up the image of your two mysterious subjects of attraction, nothing is working.

“Please..” you whisper into the darkness of your room, pleading with something, anything to help you reach a release.

“You need some help there, sweetcheeks?” You bolt up from your pillow when you hear a strikingly familiar voice in the background. “Doesn’t she look like she’s struggling?”

Your breath hitches when you hear another voice respond, this time a cooler, more feminine tone. “Oh, definitely. We should’ve shown up at the club tonight, Cho’, our girl looks so fucking needy.”

Cho? As in Choso, from the other night? That can’t be…

You try to open your mouth to ask these mysterious entities who the fuck they are, but when you try to speak, nothing comes out. 

“Oh, she’s trying to talk!” The female voice giggles. “Don’t worry, honey, you know us. Yuki and Choso, from the other night. You remember, don’t you?”

Of course you fucking remember. They’re all you’ve been thinking about this past week, but to have them actually in your room… this has to be some kind of twisted dream. 

“Not a dream, honey,” Choso responds as if he can hear your thoughts. “We’re actually here, and we wanna help you. You want that, right?”

Too many questions. They’re asking too many questions and it’s getting to your head, and the room seems to grow hotter when Choso moves out of the darkness and approaches your bed. He looks… different. The black strip tattoo that was so prominent on his nose bridge extends to his eyes, with sharp lines branching over the apples of his cheeks. His purple undereyes are more prominent too, and he looks almost like a demon. 

This isn’t him. It can’t be, but your attention is diverted when Yuki moves out of the darkness too, but she’s dressed in the exact same way she was that one night, bikini bra and denim ripped shorts hugging her curves in a way that has you drooling. 

“Do you want to know what we are?” Choso raises a perfectly arched brow in your direction. “We’re not human, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

You nod slowly, eyes wide with shock. Not human? Well, that explains your raging attraction to the both of them. 

Yuki points a perfectly manicured finger at herself. “Succubus.” She points at Choso. “Incubus.” Then, she smiles, baring perfectly white teeth. “You called us last week, didn’t you, princess?”

Called them last week? You didn’t have either of their numbers (if they even had phones), so how…

“You were fingering that pretty cunt, and you called us. Who do you think told you to add another finger?” They told you to do that? You thought it was just out of pure need, but alas their presences were actually in your room, guiding you to orgasm without making themselves known. 

Your thighs clench at the thought and they laugh in unison, the golden sound of Yuki’s voice intertwining with Choso’s deep rumble. Oh, you need them bad.

“You’ll have us, honey,” Choso drawls, and your bed dips as he crawls in between your legs. “We’ll give you what you want, don’t sweat.”

You can only stare down at him as he pries your legs open, shucking up your dress as he stares in between your legs to find you aren’t even wearing panties.

“No way,” Yuki breathes, climbing onto your bed alongside Choso and joining him in inspecting in between your legs. “You went out like this?”

You nod shyly. Of course you did, because you were expecting to get fucking laid, and walking around with your clit out made you feel just a little bit sexy. You don’t feel sexy now though, because both… demons (?) are inspecting your cunt like they’re gynaecologists, parting your lips with their fingers and blowing on your clit teasingly. 

“Oh, she’s sensitive, isn’t she?” Yuki coos at your cunt, bright eyes staring up at you as her thumb strokes the roof of your clit. “Poor pussy’s never been laid, huh?” You shake your head pitfully, and Choso tuts. 

“We can take care of you, baby. Just forget about your roomies for tonight, yeah?” Your focus tracks to him and your eyes lock, nodding as if in a trance. “Good girl.”

Just when you think Yuki is finally going to give your pussy the relief it needs, she gets up and crawls next to you, hands reaching into your dress and fingers running over your nipples as she kisses your neck. “I saw you at the club that night,” she whispers in your ear, her plump lips brushing its shell. “You’re so pretty, ‘n I wish you came up to me and talked to me.” She kisses your ear before finally facing you. “Have you ever kissed a girl before?”

Your eyes are soft and innocent as you look at her and shake your head, still not able to speak. Yuki laughs quietly before closing her eyes and pressing her lips to yours. She tastes like strawberries and sin, and you groan when her tongue intertwines with yours in a heated kiss. 

“You’re doing amazing, Yuki,” Choso says from in between your legs. “She’s getting so fucking wet right now.” You almost forgot he was there, and when his tongue flicks against your throbbing clit, you whine into Yuki’s mouth. 

“That’s it, darling,” she whispers against your lips, her breathing mimicking yours as Choso eats out your cunt. “Let it out for us, baby, we’ve got you.”

Thank God for the fact you’re home alone, because the groan you let out is downright pornographic, your hips ticking upwards when Choso begins to make out with your pussy. You can’t believe you imagined this in the reverse, because having Yuki fondling your tits with Choso in between your legs is way better than anything your need-filled brain could ever have come up with. 

“Are you about to cum, sweet girl?” Yuki’s voice is driving you nuts, and you nod rapidly as you feel the coil begin to wind up in your core, this time ten times tighter than it ever has when you masturbate by yourself. Yuki twists your nipples in tune to Choso’s ministrations on your clenching hole, her breath hitching when she spots your eyes begin to gloss over. “C’mon, angel. You need it, don’t you? We need it too, baby, come on.”

You completely miss her say that she needs your orgasm just as much as you do, because white sparks begin to flash behind your eyelids, thighs trembling as they drag you into your orgasm by force, Choso’s tongue never slowing it’s relentless torment and Yuki’s fingers continuing to swipe at your clit. 

Everything becomes hazy, and you can barely sense Choso finally detaching from your cunt, his tongue swiping over his lips before he’s circling to where Yuki is sitting by your head and kissing her, their tongues intertwining as he feeds her your taste. 

“Doesn’t she taste amazing?” Whilst he’s entangled with Yuki, Choso’s large hand strokes your tummy, his finger pulling up your dress to draw shapes on your bare abdomen. “Like sugar.”

“Totally,” Yuki groans, eyes flicking towards you. “Thank you, angel.”

And you think that’s the end of it and they’re going to leave, but now they’re swapping places, Choso staying at your head and unbuckling his pants whilst Yuki kneels in between your legs, her lips kissing the overly sensitive flesh of your thighs. 

It’s hard to focus yet again, because as you watch Yuki begin to play with your cunt like a cat plays with a ball of yarn, Choso is suddenly pressing the flaring tip of his cock to your lips and tangling his fingers in your hair. “Hi, angel. Can you suck on this for me?”

You nod. You can’t do anything but nod, especially when he’s finally slipping his cock into your mouth, head bobbing as you try to take him whole. 

“You’re distractin’ her, Cho’,” Yuki’s whining, and her shorts are off too, moving your legs to weave with hers as she presses her clit to yours. “Baby won’t be able to grind back if she’s busy suckin’ you off- hah-“

“Shut it, Yuki,” Choso grunts animalistically. “We’ve got what we want, so she doesn’t really even need to cum again.”

“But it’s n-no fair if you get to cum and I- ugh- don’t.” Her hands are squeezing your hips and pulling up against her as her own move in a hypnotic rhythm, her clit bumping yours over and over and over again, working you up gradually to another high. “You know it lasts longer if we get to cum too.”

Everything they’re saying is going over your head, and your senses are in overload. Choso’s cock is hitting the back of your throat repeatedly and you can barely breathe, but the lack of oxygen makes each of Yuki’s thrusts hit harder, your hips twitching with each grind of her own. 

“Mmh, is this pretty pussy gonna cum again?” Yuki’s voice is a sweet drawl, and she bends over to begin sucking at your nipples, her hips picking up the pace. “She’s gettin’ sensitive, right?”

Before you can even look at Yuki, Choso is dragging your head back to him, his hips all but thrusting into your mouth with repeated fervour. “Don’t pay attention to her, look at me.” His balls slap obscenely against your chin and his head tips back in a groan, his dark hair streaming over his shoulders and face marks growing more intense as he quickly approaches his orgasm. “ ‘M gonna cum, baby, and I need you to swallow it. Can you do that?”

You shouldn’t swallow because he’s not even a fucking human, but your lust addled brain complies with his demand, eyes glazed over as he finishes in your mouth messily. Yuki gasps against your tits as she watches on, hips stuttering as her orgasm begins. 

It’s all too much. Yuki is twitching against your overheated body and Choso is seemingly still cumming, this time slipping himself from your mouth and slapping his cock on your parted lips as his cum stains your face. Your own orgasm hits you like a truck, body shivering as the heat of Yuki against you makes you borderline delirious. 

“You look so good when you’re cumming,” Yuki groans against your chest, her plump lips kissing your skin repeatedly. “You’ve done so well, angel.”

Choso grunts in agreement, a condescending smile on his lips as he trails the tip of his cock along the stream of cum on your face. You feel debauched but it feels amazing, like everything you dreamed about and more. 

And you don’t know it yet, but you’re theirs now, and even when Yuki dismounts your cunt and Choso (reluctantly) tucks himself away, you’re left shivering on the bed, thighs wet with yours and Yuki’s mixed release and face shiny with Choso’s cum. Yuki reaches out tentatively to stroke your destroyed face, but Choso grabs her wrist roughly. 

“No,” he grunts. “We have to leave her like this or it won’t work.”

Yuki nods, her face solemn. “Right.” Instead, she leaves a fleeting kiss in your hair, her hands stapled to her sides. “We’ll see you again, pretty.”

And just like that, they’re gone… almost like they were never there at all. 

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