#but sitting down for a few hours to draft the first scene gave me a really reassuring sense of how little detail i could get away with incl

[hidey-writes]

wip wednesday

There’s a quiet murmur of sound in the room, movement and conversation. Gu Yiran waits, lets it wash over him until he can make sense of it. Two people speaking in low voices, the occasional lilt into a question before the sound dips back down into [murmuring]. Ding Guozhu, and Zhang Xiaoguang. The quiet metal sound of a thermos opening, and Ding Guozhu’s voice cuts out for a moment.  Zheng Bei’s voice isn’t there.  Neither is Yaoyao’s, Gu Yiran reminds himself.   It’s only that — The last thing Gu Yiran remembers, concretely, with any certainty, is Zheng Bei. The look on Zheng Bei’s face, bursting in through the door, the way his expression changed when he saw Gu Yiran, something almost frantic in his eyes. The very last thing Gu Yiran remembers is the shape of Gu Yiran’s name in Zheng Bei’s mouth — not Gu-laoshi, for once, but Gu Yiran. To Gu Yiran’s right, the door to the hospital room unlatches.  Ding Guozhu and Zhang Xiaoguang’s conversation quiets as the door swings open. First, Yaoyao’s voice, “I bet you’re all starving! Lao Jiu—” and then footsteps coming toward Gu Yiran’s hospital bed, too light and quick to be Zheng Bei’s. There’s a hurried shushing from the corner. The door closes too fast to admit a second person.  Gu Yiran’s eyes are already open. He’s already disappointed.

from the third draft! hopefully the penultimate draft - at least the one scene i have drafted feels like it's only about a draft worth of revision from being done, so i'm optimistic. i'm trying a new thing where i am simultaneously constructing the "outline" / very chaotic list of events by scene for the third draft while also starting to write it. i think i'm liking it so far.

[comiicii]

Backdrop: You and Bucky live in the same apartment complex but haven't spoken more than a few words. One night, Bucky decides to change that. Pairing: James 'Bucky' Barnes x fem!reader. Warnings: mentions of bucky’s ptsd and my subpar writing. A's notes: this is just based on the scene pictured above from the first episode of fatws. excuse spelling and any other mistakes throughout this one-shot. this has been sitting in my drafts for ages. Word count: 2.7k

James kept to himself whenever he came into the bar you worked at. The two of you always exchanged kind glances at each other. They were no different than the ones you shared in the hallway of the apartment building you both lived in. He was a man of few words and after he came in a few times, you knew his drink order. He had a select variety which would indicate the type of day he's had or his mood. You never asked about his life and you two only ever said a few sentences to each other. He wanted to talk to you, he truly did but his words always got stuck in his throat. You were so pretty and innocent; he didn't want to taint that with his overly-complicated existence.

"James, is there anyone you've talked to other than me this week?" his therapist asks him, readying the pad and pen if he lied to her face again. There was a pause. He thought back to you and all the mental images he kept of you the past seven days. Last night, he nursed some cheap beer and watched you work; talking to some of the regulars at the bar, asking about the home life of some you had grown close to, smiling and laughing at whatever funny joke was told to you. He was completely enamored with you but he was too chicken to say anything more than his drink order and 'thank you'.

"James? I asked you a question. Do you talk to anyone once you step foot outside my office?" She pressed.

"Yes," he quietly answered. "there's a woman…she works at a bar near my apartment." the corners of his lips tugging ever so slightly upwards. The look of shock on her face pulling them higher. "She lives a couple doors down from me." James quickly added before she wrote in her notepad.

"I'm not lying." he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I know, I'm just making a note of it for next time." she deadpanned, internally relishing that he was making some progress with another human being.

"Do you two talk when you're at the bar?"

"She's working so I don't say much." he answers with a sigh.

"And when you see her at the apartment? Do you say anything at all?" she pressed on him again.

"We say hi or nod at each other." he stoically answers causing her to set aside her pad and lean forward in her seat.

"James, you need to nurture friendships. I'm not forcing you to date this woman but make an effort in talking with her. I think it would be good for you," her words were sincere. "Do you even know her name?"

"Y/N." there was that smile again.

He came right on time as always. Your heart always beat a little faster when you saw him. There was something about him that made you feel safe even though you didn't speak. You could tell he was a private man. You enjoyed your small interactions with him. Although brief, you could tell he was a good man. He'd probably been through a lot and suffered a lot of loss from what you figured. He looked to be in a good mood so you brought him his usual domestic beer with a smile. He nodded with a smile in return and proceeded to take a swig.

Your shift went by quick. Before you knew it, midnight had come. It had been a quiet but decent shift. You organized your tips to stuff into your front pocket.

"Mind if I walk you home?" he asked from his stool, finishing off his seventh bottle. You nearly jumped two feet at hearing his voice. He had practiced those six words in his head for the last two hours, hoping his voice wouldn't come off shaky.

Once you slowed your heart rate, your lips tugged into a smile and gave a small nod to him. The small response was enough to make his heart leap. He stood and walked to the door, holding it open for you to exit first.

It was a pleasant surprise for both of you to be in this setting; walking down the bustling street to your apartment complex. He mainly kept his hands in his pocket aside from the brief moment where he tugged at your arm to prevent you from clashing with a man who was looking down at his phone and clearly not paying attention to his surroundings. As quickly as it happened, his hand was back in his pocket. The walk was silent but comfortable. You had questions and obviously wanted to know more about him but you didn’t want to push him to talk if he wasn’t ready to open up. A part of you knew that he wasn’t one to be forthcoming with information he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

Before you knew it, you two were in the building and walking down the hallway to your respective doors. You turned around to thank him but at the last second, you grew bold and so you got on your toes to plant a soft peck on his cheek. It caught both of you off guard and you wanted to run away but you stayed in your spot; waiting for some reaction from him. The blood began rushing to his face. It had been decades since James had any physical contact with a woman.

“Goodnight, James and thank you for walking me home.” you softly spoke but before you could turn away to head to your door, his hand took hold of yours.

“You can call me Bucky,” he spoke, looking down at the floor before making eye contact with you, a small smile piercing through his usual stoic expression.

You gave his hand a light squeeze and tried to contain the goofy smile attempting to shine through, nodding and walking backwards to your door as you spun your keys on your ring finger.

“Shall we do this again tomorrow night, Bucky?”  you smirked as you reached your door. His smile grew and he nodded.

With that, something new and wonderful blossomed.

As weeks passed, the two of you continued this little routine of him walking you home from work. He started talking with you more, especially when he noticed a particular man making you uncomfortable. He’d find some way to take your mind off it and keep you occupied or shoot the man a death glare that you prayed you’d never be on the receiving end of. You learned that he was a little lonely since coming back from the Snap. He’d recently lost his childhood best friend and from what you deciphered from your conversations, his family had been long gone. It hurt you to hear him speak of those he lost. You didn’t press and always listened. He liked that you didn’t bother him for details or press him to tell you more. He enjoyed that you gave him the time and space to tell you things about himself when he was ready.

When walking back to the apartment, you would hold his arm and he didn’t seem to mind. He liked having you close even if he didn’t verbally communicate that to you. He grew more bold as time passed. He’d attempt flirting with you such as complimenting your smile or using a corny pick up line that he’d hope you’d like. After a few weeks, he would walk you to your door and hug you goodnight. After a month, he started planting small kisses on your head when giving you those hugs. That’s when you learned he was a military man. He wore his dog tags under his shirt. Given the height difference, you could feel them against your cheek underneath the fabric. You didn’t ask about his time in the military as you figured that was a conversation for down the road. You often kissed him on the cheek or gave his hands a squeeze as a thank you. You were going to sleep happy and hopeful that one day you two could go on an actual date and see each other in a different setting.

You truly got to know Bucky one particular night. Being that you worked at a bar, there was a television for background noise and to give some of the guys something to stare at when there was a game or big event happening. It was on the night that the government had announced it’s new Captain America. It was the main topic of most conversations at the bar that night. To you, it didn’t feel right. You had heard about Falcon having the shield passed down to him personally by Steve Rogers himself but donating it to the Captain America exhibit about a month ago. When you watched the announcement, your heart fell into your stomach. It didn’t sit right in your gut and frankly, it angered a part of you. You respected the legacy the man left behind. If the Captain chose to pass it down to the Falcon, shouldn’t he be the one donning the shield? With that announcement being the big news of the day, it altered the energy of your shift.

Bucky came in at his usual time. You could tell he had seen the news and that he was tremendously bothered by it. In the time you got to spend with Bucky, you knew when he was faking his smile at you. His smiles were genuine when they reached his eyes and as corny as it sounds, they would somewhat twinkle when he was happy. In his greeting to you, you saw none of that. You didn’t press and proceeded to change the channel to a soccer game to shift the mood and conversations of the bar. Bucky didn’t say much to you during your shift but you could tell when his eyes were on you. He had a habit of using you as his focal point as a way to ground him when he was at the bar on nights when it would get rowdy or if he picked up on a certain conversation that bothered him. It was a way for him to drown all of it out. You didn’t interact as even you could feel from across the bar that he wasn’t in the jaunty, talking mood.

Your shift went by as usual and you were cleaning up your station and gathering your tips for the night when one of the regulars started making small talk with you. They usually did when you were closing out your shift. They asked you about the news of the Captain America and what your honest opinion was of it.

“Should’ve stayed in the museum or stayed with the Falcon.” you casually spoke as you counted the bills in your hand. “I don’t have a good feeling about this new Cap, if I’m being honest. He hasn’t saved the world, never fought with the Avengers and I don’t remember Captain America having a gun so safe to say I won’t be buying his lunchbox.” emitting a dry chuckle with a shrug, giving them a pat goodbye as you made your way to Bucky.

Your walk home was mostly silent. He asked you about your day and that was the extent of your conversation with him. You held on to his arm as usual all the way to your apartment door.

“Did you mean what you said at the bar about…” he trailed off as his eyes met yours. He looked frustrated. He must’ve taken the news pretty hard you figured and only nodded to support your statements at the bar.

He suddenly pulled you into him and held you close. You could feel him slightly trembling. It worried you so you wrapped your arms around him and stayed in that position for what seemed like minutes. He kissed your head as always and when he finally pulled away, you could see pure sadness in his eyes.

“Bucky…talk to me” you softly pleaded. It was the first time you asked him to open up on your terms, not his. You were worried and concerned. Everything that night told you something was off about the man before you. He wasn’t the Bucky you had come to adore and possibly love. He stayed silent for a moment like he was thinking over how to respond to you.

“Tomorrow morning, breakfast? You’ve had a busy night and we can talk in the daylight for once.” he flashed you sheepish smile. You eyed him for a few seconds and understood that it was his way of saying ‘I’ll open up to you tomorrow’.

“Sounds good to me, Bucky. Plus, I can finally see your face under natural sunlight instead of fluorescent street lights.” You nodded with a soft chuckle, easing his anxiety that you wouldn’t take his offer. You grabbed hold of his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “See you here at 9 tomorrow.” you grabbed your keys and went into your apartment with a sigh; hopeful that some sleep was all he needed to ease his mind before your morning date.

You were peacefully sleeping until noise from Bucky’s apartment pierced your walls. It was four in the morning. You thought nothing of it until the noise continued and grew louder. You quickly put on a hoodie, grabbed your pocket knife and ran over next door. You knocked on his door loudly, asking if everything was alright. The yells didn’t stop and when your hand grabbed the knob to jiggle it to make some noise, you realized it was unlocked. You hesitated for a split second before barging in.

Upon entering, you see Bucky on the ground over a blanket in front of his television. You looked around for any possible intruders before rushing to him. You froze at the sight of his left arm. You didn’t have much time to process the new revelation as Bucky was sweating profusely and clearly having a nightmare. Your instinct was to wake him but a part of you told you not to. You had heard somewhere from a customer who had a friend with PTSD tell you vehemently to never wake someone during an episode. You pulled away and shakily took a seat in the loveseat next to him, putting the pillow between him and the chair so he wouldn’t hurt himself if he moved around. You observed the makeshift bed made up of just a couple of blankets and a pillow on the floor. It pained you realizing that you really didn’t know Bucky. You calmed yourself down and adjusted yourself on the loveseat, hoping the episode would pass.

A few minutes went by and you realized he wasn’t yelling anymore. You relaxed a bit and drifted off to a slumber, not registering that you were still in his apartment. About twenty minutes later, Bucky shot up, panting and covered in a thick layer of sweat. His heavy breathing woke you and you quickly moved to the floor to assess him, your face coming into view being a surprise to him.

“How…how you’d get in here, Y/N?” you tried not to stare too much at his arm.

“Y-your door was unlocked when I came t-to check on you,” you stumbled over your words, “I heard you yelling…was worried there was an intruder o-or something.” you kept your eyes on his and hoped he wouldn’t notice you stuttering so much due to shock and worry.

He rubbed his vibranium hand over his face. When his eyes met your again, he saw that you were staring at his arm. You looked scared and when you noticed him looking at you, in a blink you were back to worrying about him.

“Are you okay?” you asked with so much worry in your tone it made Bucky worry about you more.

“Y/N…you-”

“Did someone do this to you?” you cut him off as your hand reached toward his arm. It was cold unlike the rest of his body that was covered in sweat.

His biggest fear was having you reject him because of his past and physicality but the more he stared at you, the more he realized that you weren’t scared of him, you were scared for him. Bucky never wanted you to find out this way but he knew he had to come clean to you about himself sooner or later. He was just hoping it would be later rather than sooner.

“I think now would be a good time for a coffee…”

[just-wrting]

Undercover

Title: Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Working on a case, leads to you and Hotch pretending to be a couple to lure out an unsub. While you're aware of the impact it has on your crush, you're unaware of the impact it has on Hotch.

Word Count: 4892

Master List

A/N: This has been my longest sitting Hotch draft so I sat down today and wrote this! It only took me a few hours cause I couldn't stop watching Criminal Minds while writing this. This is also so that people who aren't enjoying the Babysitter series a break. This was also gonna have smut but I want sleep more than that.

You had lots of feelings about Hotch. As your boss, he was good at his job. He was usually level-headed, calm, and direct. He did well in a leadership role and was able to command the team well. On top of that, his voice was smooth and his hands warm. He took good care of everyone, even you. That led to your biggest issue with your job at the BAU, you had started to develop a crush on your boss.

The gentle sound of papers rustling is what makes you realize that you’re not alone. You’ve managed to zone out while on the plane. Thankfully it’s in the last part of the trip, the part where you all mostly read the files on your own and tried to piece things together.

Emily slides back into her seat next to you and pushes a cup toward you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you have a single thing to drink on this flight.”

You take a sip from the cup and gave her a small smile. “Yeah, I tend to be a little squished into the seat by the window and don’t want to interrupt someone’s thoughts. I know no one’s going to be mad, but I’d rather not risk something that could be important.”

“Dehydration will just make it harder for you to focus, (Y/N). Granted the effects take much longer to set in, but the average adult doesn’t drink nearly enough water.”

You look over the table at Reid. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind before I choose my coffee.”

“You sure it’s a cup of coffee you’ll be choosing? I’ve seen you with more soda in your hand than coffee.”

You shake your head at Morgan before looking back at the files in your hand. Morgan had been right. Maybe not about the soda but about the fact that no matter how many cases you did, it wasn’t any easier. Each victim was someone that could no longer be saved. They all had a family that wanted them back, and there was nothing you could do.

—

Once you had landed, Hotch sent you with Morgan to go look at the crime scene. It is your least favorite task, not to mention your weak stomach after a flight, you don’t like looking at the blood longer than you have to. Thankfully, Morgan is good at keeping you calm and is willing to check on rooms first. He’ll always give you a warning, your own little one-to-five scale, on how bad the room was.

“The bodies were found still in bed. The neighbors said they didn’t hear anything so maybe the first thing he did was make sure they couldn’t scream.”

You nod as Morgan walks around the bed. “Based on trauma on the head I’d go with at least one woke up. The husband had an indent on the back of his head. Given that there wasn’t anything left at the crime scene, the killer took it with him.”

“Okay so, the unsub gets into the house and comes upstairs to the couple sleeping. Maybe he makes a noise or something. Husband wakes up and the unsub hits him so he stays quiet.”

“What about the wife? I’ve heard men are deeper sleepers so wouldn’t she have woken up? Plus this isn’t the first murder. Wouldn’t the unsub know better than to make noises?”

“Maybe he killed the wife first. The blood or the smell could’ve woken the husband. Maybe even the wife moving before she died woke him up. It didn’t take him long to kill both of them. Time of death for both was around 3 am.”

“If he was done with the wife, why not just kill the husband right away? Why bother knocking him out?”

With that, Morgan shrugs and looks at you. “I don’t know. Maybe it was easier. All I know is that there isn’t much else here.”

“Do you think this couple was having fun?”

Morgan blinks. “What do you mean?”

“Well for starters, there’s not much in here to suggest that they had intimacy. Besides the blood, this bedroom looks like it was set up for a showing. There are no pictures of them together besides a wedding photo. I doubt you’d find sexual items in here.”

Morgan gave the room a once-over. “I guess so. A loveless marriage that didn’t even have kids. I wonder what kept them together.”

—

“So we’ve got multiple couples murdered. They all have their similarities. The men all have some sort of desk job and made decent money. The wives all did some sort of work with people. For example, wife number one was a teacher, and wife number two was a tour guide for the museum. Beyond that, they didn’t have any other things in common. No common places they went or people they knew.”

Morgan held open the door for you. “Actually, I don’t think any of them had kids. Where are the crime scene photos?”

Emily hands you a file that you pop open and show to Morgan. “They all seem to be set up the same. All master bedrooms with the victims inside on the bed.”

As you flip through them, you start to feel queasy. The pictures still contain the bodies in their posed positions on the bed. The walls and furniture are covered in blood. You do your best to pull your eyes from the bodies. You want to look at what was in the rooms.

“It’s the same in these. There are no signs of love or a happy couple. Not a photo besides the wedding one.”

Hotch gives you a glance and you hold out the file. “What do you think this could mean?”

“Well, maybe it’s all staged. The photo happens to be on the wives’ side of the bed and they all happen to sleep on the right side. While that may happen to be the most common side for the wife to sleep on, it’s all preference. They’re posed in a way that makes them look like they’re in a mattress commercial.”

“So the unsub could be acting out a fantasy with the couples. But what sort of fantasy could it be? He’s not pretending to be the husband, there’s no sexual aspect to it,” Rossi wonders while he rubs his chin.

Emily takes the files back from you. “Maybe he’s jealous. Maybe he doesn’t do well with women or doesn’t have a stable job.”

You awkwardly let your hand fall to your side. Hotch is being a little colder than usual today, but you can’t let it bother you. Just because you want the little “thank you” in his eyes when you hand him something, doesn’t mean anything. You just want what everyone wants. You want his approval.

—

“(Y/N).”

Hotch says your name for what is probably the tenth time. You are too lost in thought to notice the other times, but now you look up. You meet his eyes as he tries to pass you a cup of coffee. Scrambling to move the files around, you shoved the papers around until you had a small space for the cup.

“Thanks! I was sure I was going to have to use all these files to take a nap,” you joked. “Nothing like sitting here and looking through papers to make me excited.”

Hotch raises a brow. “Find anything yet?”

You give a sigh. “Nope. Unlike Reid, I can’t read super fast or remember everything. Going through paperwork feels like hell, but at least today I had a savior to bring me my coffee.”

You make eye contact with Hotch and give him a soft smile. You are so happy that he looks out for you. It makes you feel special, even if you know he does it for everyone. You know that it is stupid, but every little nice thing he does gives you butterflies.

Hotch gives a chuckle. “I get to be your savior? Just for bringing you a coffee?”

“Mhm. You tend to be there when I need something so why shouldn’t I call you my savior?”

He shoots you a quick smile as Morgan walks in behind him. “You don’t say things like that because I’m here to tease you, (Y/N). If Hotch is your savior what do I get to be?”

“You, Derek Morgan, can be my one and only nuisance. Only you tease me about the little things.”

Clearing his throat, Hotch asks, “Find anything yet?”

“Well if by anything you really mean anything then yeah. I found a bunch of random things that make no sense and have no use. If you meant anything by useful, then no, I have nothing. I did come up with a few more ideas about our unsub though.”

Hotch gives you a nod to keep going, while Morgan leans against the door frame. “Well, the first murder doesn’t differ from the others. Normally it's the one where they develop a pattern but there isn’t anything out of place.”

“So perhaps this isn’t his first murder,” Morgan says.

You shake your head. “There’s no other murders in the area that match. It might be his first kill but it’s not his first violent act. Not to mention I thought it was odd that he focused on hurting the men more than the women. Perhaps he had an issue with his parents. Or resentment towards a male figure in his life.”

“Like a child of divorce or perhaps an abusive father.” This time Hotch acknowledges what you are saying. “He might even have a record for aggressive and violent behavior.”

“Well we can have Garcia look into that but right now we don't have much else to go on. Besides knowing the unsub is only half the battle. We need to know what connects the victims. Where could he have met or seen all of these people? There has to be a place or a person that connects all the victims.”

You choose to let Hotch glance at the files on top while you down your coffee as fast as you can. You don’t want to be a downer on the fact that Morgan is right, but you’re starting to feel tired. You aren’t sure if you could handle even another five minutes staring at paperwork.

“Do you think that figuring that out can wait? I mean everyone else is still doing their interviews on the families. That could bring something to the table.” You set the empty cup on the table. “Besides, if I have to look at another file in the next ten minutes I might go nuts.”

Hotch gives you a soft smile. “Sure. How about you go and take a break? Actually, if you don’t mind, maybe you could get something for the team to eat when they get back while we go over the information. I doubt most of them have had lunch yet.”

You stand and stretch. “Absolutely! I’d do almost anything to get out of this stuffy room with all of this paper.”

“Hey cupcake, get me some good coffee while you’re out,” Morgan gives a cheeky grin. “Oh and maybe a donut, since you’re not giving me enough sweetness.”

You roll your eyes and give him a light shove. “Your little tech goddess wouldn’t be happy with you shooting words like that at someone else. So tone it down, Muscle Man.”

Morgan puts his hand to his heart and makes a fake groan. His silly little act makes you giggle. You know it's all jokes, but you can’t help smiling at it. Morgan always knows how to lighten the mood.

“Hotch did you want anything in particular? Since Morgan’s trying to boss me around with his orders, I figured the real boss should have a say in what I get him.” Your hand rests on the doorway. “Feel free to send me a text about it.”

You turn and walk out the door before Hotch or Morgan can say anything else. You can feel your heart race. Telling Hotch to text you feels so personal despite it not being personal at all. To make matters worse, you hear your phone chime with the ringtone you have set for Hotch.

Despite wanting to look at it right away, you choose to wait until you get into one of the vehicles. You feel like if you look while still in the building, it’ll give away your feelings. It's bad enough that Emily gives you crap about it, Morgan would be a nightmare. Besides you don’t trust him to not slip up and spill it.

Thankfully the coffee shop isn’t far, no more than a ten minute drive, and it gives you time to think. As much as you’d like to avoid thinking about the case, you know you should. That and it’s subconscious at this point. Almost every waking moment on a case is spent thinking about the case.

There’s only so many places that people could have in common. Only one family was religious so that rules out church. They didn’t have any of the same sort of hobbies or even work near each other. The only thing they had in common was budget. Similar houses and similar cars made it easy to spot, and Garcia checked on their credit.

After placing the order, you aren’t even sure how you’ll carry that much coffee into the precinct, you take a seat and people watch. It’s nothing special, a few students studying, a mom and child planning on how to best utilize play time, and a younger couple are all that occupy the tables.

The couple appears to be getting along, and you made note of how badly you wanted a coffee date. That’s when a thought occurs. What if the couples had gone on a date? You remember reading about a case that involved a couple murdering to respark their love after a marriage counselor suggested finding something like that.

After making sure that your order is correct and strapping it firmly into the car, you call Garcia. The Bluetooth connects in the car and within seconds Garcia picks up.

“BAU tech genius at your service!”

You smile as you reply, “My tech genius, are you able to see what purchases the couples made the days before their deaths?”

“Do kittens have whiskers? Of course I can. What am I looking for?”

“Can you see if they all went to the same restaurant? My hunch is that since most of them were seeing counselors that resparking romance was suggested so they might have tried to have a romantic date.”

The keyboard clicks away. “I’ll look into it. Now I hope you don’t mind but I’ve got officer sexy calling me so I need to let you go.”

You laugh. “Just make sure if he asks you to do what I’m having you do, tell him it was my idea first.”

“Will do, sugar. Bye!”

With a click, Garcia is gone. You know by the time you get back to the precinct, she’ll have your answer. Which will be amazing since the faster you solve this case the faster you can go back to smothering your feelings.

It’s not that you hate the fact that you have a crush on Hotch. It just makes your job hard. Standing next to him makes your heart pound and when he smiles at you, you know you’re in deep. Not to mention how gentle and warm his hands are, despite being calloused, when he checks you over for injuries.

Thankfully, by the time you walk into the precinct, everyone else is there. J.J. and Ried help you bring everything in. As you pass out the food, Morgan puts Garcia on speaker.

“Alrighty. I looked into an idea that (Y/N) had and struck gold. Almost literally. All of the couples did in fact go on a fancy schmancy date to a place called the Golden Roast the day before they were found murdered.”

“What made you have the idea to look into that?” Morgan asks. “How did you figure it out?”

You glance at Morgan before continuing to unwrap the sandwich in front of you. “Well, multiple of the couples had marriage counselors and I’ve heard that one of the things they tell couples is to try and find that romantic spark. Going on a fancy romantic dinner date seems like it would be a good idea.”

“A place that like that may want us to bring a warrant. We can go and look but we should still have some sort of backup plan given that we don’t have much to go on to find the unsub,” Ried says as he eats his food.

“So let’s have two people go undercover. We send two other people in to talk to the staff about the couples. The undercover couple acts like the victims and we can use them to lure out the unsub.”

You raise your eyebrow at Morgan. Sure, sending people undercover would be the fastest way to find the unsub but that didn’t stop the fact that apparently one person alone murdered two people. Something about it was still bothering you.

“So, we send two people undercover to pretenc like they’re married. Who do we send?” you ask.

Emily gives you a sly smile. “Since you’re asking who’s going, why not you? Pick someone out.”

You quickly realize what she’s up to. “Maybe you should go since you’re avoiding it. Afraid the tension will be too much for you?”

Rossi nods his head. “Well since (Y/N) is going undercover for practically the first time why don’t we send someone seasoned? I’m far too old to pretend to be their husband, but perhaps Hotch could.”

You nearly choke on your coffee at his words. It sounds like a poor plan, granted you wouldn’t mind playing Hotch’s wife, you didn’t want to argue with him. Everyone else seems to be in agreement on the plan, and your fate is sealed.

—

The fancy clothes feel constricting and you do your best to not touch your hair. The atmosphere is far too romantic for you, and you feel so nervous. It takes all of your willpower to stay on task and not just admire how absolutely hot Hotch is.

“Do you know what you plan on ordering?” Hotch asks. “Or are you going to look at the menu all night?”

His voice is a little harsh and it pulls you back to reality. You need to get on his nerves and pick at everything he does. Or at least that’s what Morgan told you after talking to the staff.

“Well, maybe if you knew that this place isn’t what I like, I wouldn’t have such a hard time picking something to eat.”

The waiter offers you a glass of wine and you decline. The one that seems to come preset with the table is going to be hard enough to pretend to drink, and you don’t need more of it on the table. You can hear the murmur of other couples, and you realize that an argument would definitely draw the unsub to you.

“How am I supposed to know what you like? You don’t talk to me much.”

“Maybe if you weren’t married to your job, Aaron, I’d have time to talk to you.”

His gaze is icy and you know that hits a nerve. You’ve both heard before in a relationship. It’s what your job brings. You feel bad about it, but you know this has to be realistic.

The conversation between you and Hotch simmers down as the waiter takes your order. You take the time to scan the restaurant looking for a possible clue. No one sticks out, and you return your eyes to Hotch.

“You know that work keeps me busy. I have a lot of paperwork and it keeps me at the office late.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Sure it’s not one of those pretty little ladies at the office?”

Hotch clenches his fist. “Are you accusing me of something?”

You meet his eyes. You’re doing your best to be convincing as an angry wife. It seems to be working, as a couple of tables are doing their best to look at the two of you. Hotch’s gaze remains cold, and you don’t like it.

“I didn’t say anything. Why are jumping to conclusions if you have nothing to hide?”

You trace the rim of the wine glass. Hotch’s eyes follow your hand as you do this, watching as you pretend to drink. The waiter jumps at the chance to bring you your meal.

The entire meal is silent. You watch each other over the candle light, and you make note about how nervous that makes you. Crossing a romantic candle lit dinner off the bucket list is happening, and its strictly for the firehazard.

“Since you aren’t replying, I’m going to assume you have something to hide.”

Hotch’s fork clatters against plate. “I don’t have anything to hide. Can you stop jumping to conclusions for one dinner? I’m trying to make this work.”

You make a face and push your plate away. “I think I’ve lost my appetite, thanks. Can we hurry this up, please?”

Hotch waves the waiter over and takes care of the check. You watch as his jaw unclenches, and you really want to kiss him. The romantic dinner may help you catch the unsub, but you know it’s making your crush worse.

—

The car ride to the sheriff’s house is silent for the first few minutes. You are making sure to face away from Hotch due to a bit of a hunch. There was a few people who had bumped into you and Hotch. If one of those people is the unsub, they could’ve left some sort of bug.

“(Y/N)? I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off. “Save it, Aaron. I need some space to calm down. Talking about it isn’t going to help.”

He looks shocked, but keeps driving. At a stop sign, he glances over at you and you give a small smile. You mouth ‘I’ll explain to you later’.

—

You know that you don’t have the bug. You make sure to gently touch the areas that you had been bumped, carefully feeling for any sort device. There’s nothing there, and you know you’ll have to check Hotch. Just how to do it without letting the unsub know.

“You’re right, Aaron. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. Here. Let me take your jacket.”

You move closer to him. You slide your hand up under his jacket and up over his shoulder. Hotch is too shocked to stop you and you are able to successfully pull his jacket off. Hidden under the collar is a little device.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?”

“What do you mean, Aaron? I’m just trying to have some intimacy. It’s called make-up sex if I’m correct.”

“I don’t think-”

You huff. “Fine. I get it. Don’t forget to check your jacket for stuff in the pockets because I don’t want another incident like last time. I’m going to bed, Aaron.”

In the hallway, you start to panic. Did you take it too far? You know that the team could hear what you were saying and that thought makes you die a little inside. At least one of them will be giving you shit about it tomorrow.

—

You’ve been in bed for about four hours before you hear anything. Aaron is in bed next to you, a respectable distance away. The sound of a door creaking leads him to roll over to face you. His hand on your arm would be reassuring, if you didn’t happen to have a gun tucked under the pillow.

You both do your best to stay still as you wait for whoever it is to enter the bedroom. By now, the tem is most likely getting into position. None of the murders have been done with a gun, so you feel less nervous about the unsub entering the bedroom. Besides, Hotch has amazing aim.

The next noise is the bedroom door opening. Gentle footsteps enter the room and walk closer to the bed. Before a hand even reaches the sheets, Aaron shoots up. You grab your gun with one hand and flip on the light with the other.

A man stands at the foot of your bed holding a knife and baseball bat. With two guns trained on him, he’s frozen.

“Drop the weapons.”

The bat clatters to the ground and the unsub starts to back up. You know he’s about to make a dash for it.

“Don’t even think about it! One of us will shoot you before you can even make it through the doorway.”

You and Hotch get out of the bed. Within seconds, Hotch has the unsub pinned against the doorframe, the knife skittering across the hallway floor.

—

After that the case wraps up easily. The man caves easily as the submissive partner looking for the ideal romantic relationship with a woman who was using him to get rid of couples who argued at the restaurant, reminding her of her parents.

The plane ride is quiet. Most of the team seems asleep, and after double checking, you sit down next to Hotch. You slide him a cup of water and fold your hands on the table.

“About the things I said, I’m sorry. Most of it was stuff that my ex had said about me so I figured it would work.”

Hotch gives you a smile. “It’s alright. I also wanted to apologize. I hope I wasn’t too harsh.”

“Well, it worked out in the end. You’re a much better actor than I am. You played the part of a man who loved me and wanted to yell at me at the same time.”

“I wasn’t acting.”

This time it’s you who’s too stunned to speak. You open your mouth and then close it while staring at him.

“Acting about what?”

Hotch looks bashful. “About you. This case has officially made it clear that I have developed feelings for you. In fact, if you’d like, I would like to take you out for dinner properly.”

“I-I think I’d love that. Maybe later in the week. I could use some relaxing after this.”

Hotch unclasps your hands and holds them in his. You can feel your heart race, but give his hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you spend the rest of the plane trip in a comfortable silence, occasionally give each other smiles.

Once you land, you make your way to your car and slide into the driver’s seat. Turning the key leads to a sputter without much else. Of course having an amazing thing happen is immediately followed by something bad happening. Your bad luck stops there, as Hotch knocks on your window.

“Jack happens to be with a friend tonight, if you want to spend the night. Not that you have to of course.”

“I didn’t take you for the type of man that moves faster than Morgan,” you tease. “But in all seriousness that’s better than keeping you up longer than you need to be so you can take me home.”

“Helping the team is what I’m supposed to do. You aren’t a bother to me, (Y/N).”

“Aaron? Can I be honest for just a moment?” He nods as he takes your bag. “I’ve had feeling for you for sometime. Longer than I expected.”

He loads both duffle bags into the car. Just like a gentleman, Aaron holds your door open and closes it behind you. You’re tempted to try to hold his hand, but you let him focus on the road instead.

“Then I suppose I should be honest as well. This case might have been eyeopener, but if you talk to Rossi, I’ve been trying to avoid my feelings for. I just didn’t want it to affect you at work.”

You think back and try to remember if Aaron had shown any signs of liking you. Sure there had been times you had noticed him watching you, or the times he’d stand closer to you than other people would. They were all just subtle signs that as a profiler you should’ve noticed.

By the time you’ve connected all the dots, you’re in front of his place. Aaron lets you in, and sets about setting things down. This includes all the of the stuff you both have to wear as agents and your bags. Your grateful as he takes yours and sets them off to the side as well.

The two of you settle into the couch and curl up together as the TV plays some mindless show. You can’t focus on the TV with the sound of Aaron’s heartbeat in your ear. Not to mention the gentle rubbing of his hand on your arm. It’s hard to focus on anything but him.

The exhaustion hits you, and you find yourself dozing off. Aaron guides you off the couch and lets you fall into his bed. The last thing you process before you pass out is Aaron pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

[sariel626]

I read your platonic dad Poe fic. Could you do another one where Poe has to run to the office and brings his kid for a few minutes and they meet Fitzgerald for the first time. He tries to keep his little detective quiet lol

AAAAAAA! My first request!!! This is so exciting!!!

Note: Fitzgerald did meet reader under different circumstances in the other Poe work, so we’ll have reader’s memory be foggy of him.

TW: possible OOC characters

———————————————————————

Emergency Meeting!🚨🚨🚨

Poe grabbed his phone and noticed it was Francis calling, so he answered the call while motioning for (Reader) to be quiet, “Hello boss, is there something you need? Ah yes, the plans for the new buildings have been drafted. I can bring them in a couple hours for review- 15 minutes?! N-No, it’s not a problem, but my daughter, she can’t be left alone yet. I promise she won’t be a bother! Thank you!”

Immediately after hanging up Poe started to gather his things. (Reader) had cleaned up her crayons and papers after figuring out she would probably be going somewhere with her dad. “Dad, are you going to work?” Poe sighed, “Yes, there’s a meeting I have to go to and unfortunately, you’ll be coming with me this time.” He recalled the last time (Reader) was at the office and shivered at the thought of the experience repeating. Poe grabbed his bag and began leading her out the door. The young girl whined at this, “Why can’t I stay with Uncle Ranpo? It’s Saturday, he’s not gonna be at work!” “I have to be there in less than fifteen minutes. That isn’t anywhere near enough time to drop you off with Ranpo. Did you grab some books? Colors and notebooks?” The girl hummed in response, pouting about having to go to her dad’s work on the weekend.

Living about 7 minutes away made it slightly easier for the stressed architect and young girl to arrive in time by speed walking. There were many times when a bookstore or sweet shop would catch little (Reader)’s eye and almost distract her, but Poe was determined to get him and his daughter to and through this meeting as soon as possible.

Once they arrived at the entrance of the guild, (Reader) felt a sense of deja vu wash over her. She grabbed Poe’s hand and he looked down at her. “I think I’ve been here before…and something bad happened. I don’t wanna go.” Her father’s expression immediately grew worried. Was she having traumatic flashbacks? Was he going to lose his daughter because of this important meeting? Karl jumped off Poe’s shoulders onto his daughter’s, which seemed to help calm the small girl’s nerves a bit. “It’ll only be one short meeting, then we’ll leave, I promise” Poe gave (Reader) a reassuring smile. “…Ok, but then we have to get ice cream!” “Deal!”

After passing through what seemed like 50 empty hallways, they finally made it to their destination with a minute to spare. Knocking on the door, they hear a “Come in” and both enter the lavish room, coming face to face with Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald himself and Louisa Alcott by his side, as per usual. Seeing Poe now here, Francis smiled and checked his watch, “Poe! You’re just in time! Let’s take a look at what you’ve drawn up.” Ignoring the presence of Poe’s daughter, he watched Poe take out the files for each plan and set them on his desk. “The new firm will require at least $690,000,000 to build…”

Meanwhile, (Reader) had moved from behind Poe to behind the couch he was sitting on. She felt uncomfortable upon seeing the blonde CEO, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that gave her that feeling. Taking out the crayons from her bag, the girl continued working on her picture for Uncle Ranpo. Sifting through the box to find a black crayon, because he always has to have his signature glasses at the scene, she noticed her red crayon fall out and roll around the corner of the couch. Of course, this did not go unnoticed by Francis. Amusement spread across his face as he spoke, “Poe, did you let in a rat?” Knowing full well who was there. The tousle haired writer tried to maintain his composure and picked it up, “I-It must’ve fallen out o-of my pocket from earlier.” Francis laughed, “I didn’t know you used crayons to draw up your plans for new structures.” This only raised Poe’s anxiety of the situation. Will Francis see his daughter and force him to get rid of her? Will he kill her?! “O-Occasionally I do, t-to avoid smearing in my drafts…” Hearing the poor excuse, Francis decided to see how far Poe would go to hide the girl’s presence. “I suppose that’s reasonable. Now, you were saying?”

The writer let out a sigh of relief internally and continued with the meeting. He couldn’t help but notice Louisa glancing next to him, almost as if she were trying to see behind the couch. At this point, (Reader) had finished her initial drawing and flipped her drawing notebook paper. Coincidentally, this was done almost in sync with her father, but she was slightly louder which caught the attention of the Guild’s strategist. The young girl, pondering what to draw next, glanced around the room before freezing up as she looked at the space between Fitzgerald’s desk and the door (like where Atsushi was before he escaped and took the doll to Dazai). Her pupils shrunk and (Reader)’s hand instinctively started moving to draw a familiar, yet forgotten memory…

As she was drawing, the small artist had built up the urge to sneeze and sneeze she did. The room fell silent for a few moments before Francis said, “Poe, please refrain from bringing anyone to Guild meetings again. You may come out from hiding.” (Reader) peeked her head out, still feeling a bit uncomfortable around the businessman. Francis would’ve been lying if he said he was surprised by the girl’s appearance. He had expected someone much older and taller. Clearing his voice without breaking eye contact, he asks Louisa to take the young girl to another room until he and Poe are finished.

Cleaning up her crayons again, and getting the red one from her father, (Reader) follows the loyal woman to a room nearby. “Miss Louisa? Can I call you that?” Louisa looked down at the kid, “Louisa or Alcott is fine.” “Do you have to go back?” “I do…but I don’t want to interrupt Lord Francis’s meeting…” The small girl pondered this, “Do you want to play double double this this?” Louisa was taken by surprise at the girl’s offer. Didn’t this kid remember her just watching Lord Francis killing her parents and almost her a few years ago? Why would she want to play a game with her? Unless it’s a trap! “—ouisa? Miss Louisa? You can say no, it’s ok.” A tiny hand was waving in front of Louisa’s face to snap her out of her thoughts. “S-Sorry, I don’t know how to play so I’ll just review my work. Can you please be completely quiet so I can work?” “I’ll try my best to be as quiet as possible!” Louisa smiled at the young detective’s determination, but immediately sweat dropped when (Reader) pulled out four adult mystery novels.

Soon enough, the meeting was over and the girl had solved three mysteries before reaching the end of the books. Louisa brought (Reader) back to Francis’s office, the room still making the young detective uneasy. Karl was the first of the three to notice the two enter, and he jumped onto the familiar child’s shoulder. This alerted both Poe and Francis of the two girls’ arrival. “Welcome back little one, I’m sure you were much better for Miss Louisa than you were during the meeting?” Poe sighed, “I-I’m so sorry sir…I j-just couldn’t find a-anyone to watch her.” Louisa interjected, “She was very good and polite. I asked her to stay quiet so I could work and she didn’t make a sound.”

The nervous girl who had been hiding behind Louisa with Karl on her shoulders came out, knowing that she had to apologize for causing trouble for her father. Fidgeting with the ends of her shirt, she bowed her head in shame, “I-I’m sorry for making so much noise during your meeting…and being a problem…” Francis patted her head and chuckled, “Just don’t let it happen again.” He pulled his hand back, “You’re exactly like your father, appearances aside. Run along now, I’m sure you two had plans today.” Poe and (Reader) said their goodbyes and quickly rushed out.

Once they were gone, Francis frowned and continued staring at the door, “Miss Louisa.” “Y-Yes Lord Francis?” He turned towards her, “Don’t you think that girl resembled Eliza Haywood and Damien Lewis a bit too much?” Louisa noticed this too, but she didn’t expect her boss to ask her about it so soon. “I do…but are we still going to kill her? Poe seemed really attached to her…” “He was told to kill her if he saw her back then, that means he disobeyed an order.” Francis sighed and sat down in his chair at his desk, “But this could bear fruit for us if we play our cards right, let’s leave her be for now. I’m sure her father will help hone whatever gift that girl has.” “Should I retrieve the files on her biological parents?” “No, please continue putting together the next strategy.”

Meanwhile, after having left Francis’s office, Poe began scolding his daughter. “You can’t cause more problems for Mr. Fitzgerald like that. He’s busy enough as is with his businesses and running the Guild. He had to call me in on a day off because of his schedule being so packed. Please don’t let that happen again, especially when you can be quieter for other people.” There was a moment of silence as the little (Reader) let his words sink in. “ Oh, Why were you so nervous around him? I mean, I don’t blame you since he could easily fire me or kill m-“ The girl stopped in her tracks the moment he said ‘kill’ with a terrified expression on her face. Poe saw this and immediately grew worried, he hadn’t seen that look since he first took her in. The writer, not knowing what to do, reached out his hand like he did so long ago and asked, “Would you like to go to those sweet shops we passed on our way here? We could also s-stop by the bookstore if it’s still open?” Trying to hide the nervousness in his voice. Karl nuzzled her cheek, both gestures making the child snap out of her trance. She shakily grabbed her dad’s hand and the three left to fulfill Poe’s offer to his daughter.

———————————————————————

YOU CAN’T BEAT THE POWER OF ENERGY DRINKS AND OVERWORKING MYSELF WRITER’S BLOCK! I GOT THE POWER OF CHILD READER ON MY SIDE!

I’m so sorry if you’re not happy with how this turned out. I tried to keep it consistent with the how (Reader) was adopted story. Please feel free to give feedback, it is much appreciated.

Fun Fact: Eliza Haywood and Damien Lewis are also writers irl.

[livebeginning]

Chapter 19 of Pretty Little Pet is out!

Pairing: Raphael x Male OC

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Mio always knew his parents weren’t good people but even he was surprised when they sold him to a devil. Being Raphael’s pet is rather pleasant though, especially for the touch-starved young elf. When Raphael asks him to his bed and later to take charge when they have sex, why would he say no to the devil who’s been asking so little and giving so much?

Chapter summary: Mio has an unpleasant encounter at Raphael's meeting.

_

Below the cut is the first draft of the last scene in this chapter, because I ended up changing a lot and thought some might like to see the difference. Make sure to read the chapter first!

“Seeing that expression on Cordelia’s face was worth sitting around for hours. I never liked that con artist, she tends to use cheap tricks to gain souls and the higher ups let her get away with it too often. She deserved a bit of humiliation.” Raphael said.

They were in the sitting room, Mio had removed what was left of his top and sat sideways on Raphael’s lap, leaning against his chest.

“How are you feeling, pet? How painful is your injury?” Raphael asked him.

“I’m fine. It only hurts when I press into the bruise.” Mio assured him with a smile. He was glad the incident had given Raphael the opportunity to have some fun.

Raphael pressed a clawed finger into the bruise and Mio hissed in pain. “I think I know what your punishment will be.” Raphael said.

He unlatched the leather collar from around Mio’s neck and removed the D-Ring along with the ring that had held the fabric of the top. Then he wrapped the collar around Mio’s arm and fastened it, tight enough to make Mio whimper but not so tight that it would restrict his blood flow.

“That seems fair doesn’t it?” Raphael asked and Mio nodded. “I will take it off in a day or two. A shame about the top, it looked very good on you. You can keep the rest of your clothes, if you like.”

“Yes, thank you. I like the pants, they make my butt look nice.”

“They do indeed.” Raphael said with a chuckle and grabbed at Mio’s ass, making him squeak. Raphael rubbed his hand up and down Mio’s thigh, leaning in for a kiss, which Mio gladly returned.

After making out for a few minutes Raphael drew back and asked: “Do you want to move this to the bedroom?”

Mio hesitated. He wasn’t really tired after having napped so much during the meeting but he felt kind of exhausted. He wasn’t sure if he had the energy to please Raphael in the bedroom right now but he also didn’t want to say no to him.

“Yeah, sure.” he replied to Raphael and made to stand up but Raphael pulled him back into his lap. Confused, Mio looked at him.

“It’s alright if you’re not up for sex right now, pet. I want this to be enjoyable for you too and I promise I won’t be disappointed if you say no. Besides, I have an incubus around here that needs to earn their keep. It’s not as much fun as with you but I’ve managed with just Haarlep before I got you and they’re always up for a quick toss in the sheets.” Raphael explained while gently stroking his hair.

Mio chewed on his lip for a moment. “I am a bit exhausted.” he admitted. 

“That’s understandable, after the day you had.” Raphael said. “You did very well, by the way, staying quiet through the entire meeting. I could tell how difficult it was for you. I noticed how much you enjoyed my claws on your back and my hand in your hair. Remind me to do that again, next time I pet you.” Mio nodded enthusiastically, excited at the prospect.

“Why don’t you take a nice bath in the boudoir to relax? You deserve it. I will see you tomorrow, my pretty little pet.” Raphael gave Mio a kiss on the forehead and gently pushed up, off his lap.

“See you tomorrow.” Mio said to Raphael with a smile and headed off to the boudoir.

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Hey, Mar! Since you've reblogged my post about the ask game, I thought I'd give it a shot.

I've read a lot of your amazing fics, but the first one was Echoes in Eternity and I will always love it, so I wanted to ask numbers 2,3 and 17 about that one.

Answer what you're comfortable with and have a nice day!

Hi!

Oh my god Echoes in Eternity my beloved first jump into fanfiction as an adult. My hiatus child. My forgotten baby in the corner. Actually this might bring me back to it. Let's go have a snoop!

2- What is your favorite paragraph from EoE? Is there a reason it’s your favorite?

I actually got a little stuck with this story a while back, and introducing Panville gave me so much energy and passion. This passage (the first paragraph, but the entire thing actually) is still vividly imprinted in my brain. I would write it very differently now, but I think you start to see my special voice come through here, and it’s really special to me 🥹.

3- What is the most amount of research you’ve done for the smallest detail? What was the detail and how much time/effort went into researching it?

For EoE, I planned so much. I have 2 entire notebooks of information about gladiators and gladiators fights and working in the roman army. I read Gladius: The World of the Roman Soldier, The Gladiators - Historical Novel: A Tale of Rome and Judea, and I read a book about ancient fighting techniques. I’ve never really used much of it, because I ended up not expanding in the way I thought I might do, but the entire gladiator/werewolf system was fully fleshed out before I even started the story. I started researching in June and started writing in September. I have… so many notes on the Hogwarts Gladiator system, I could write a “The world of EoE” sidefic.

I think I really had this illusion of grandeur when I started, that it would be a book in 3 parts, and I just didn’t think that I’d… lose interest? I easily read big fics (150K+) and kind of thought that EoE would be that, and that I would spend a LOT more time in the Dome having Hermione really get into the ranks and the entire system. But then I just wasn’t really… I could tell I wasn’t going to be able to finish, that I would lose interest too fast, so I made a few changes. I still plan on finishing the last 2 chapters, half of one is already written. But it’s hard to wrap up a story you’re no longer fully involved in, especially when you know there are a lot of people waiting for that update. I don’t want to disappoint, so I’d rather take my time.

17- What does your editing process look like?

I have a lot of flaws as a writer, but my two main ones is that I don’t know how to write a satisfying ending (finishing anything is not a habit of mine), and that I don’t know how to write a scene either. 

I often tend to write the entire dialogue, with the most basic, boring stage direction “he looks”, “he shrugs”, “he turns”, and then I go back and try to make it bearable for you guys. 

Green and I also tend to send each other bits and pieces of stuff and go “does that even make sense”, because we tend to get lost in metaphors.

I also put a lot of placeholders because I’m French and can’t always remember the word I’m looking for.

And sometimes I have stuff like this and it’s up to me to then remember what the hell I was talking about:

Scene : “You think I didn’t know about your sneaking into my library?” “Library?” “Books.”

But generally speaking I’ll sit down, write the entire draft of the next chapter in one go, and then spend either hours, days or weeks adding in the forms to make it pretty.

Thank you for the ask and for bringing me back to Echoes 🥹 my beloved forgotten child.

[sincerely-sofie]

Check-in for October 24, 2023

I'm planning on doing regular check-ins that peeps can read or skip as much as they please. If you want to see behind the scenes of my projects or get to know me a bit better, feel free to peek below the cut! If not, just look at this color palette I made for my web dev class and admire it:

I know green and pink are my favorite colors, so I may be just a tad biased, but look!!! Look at how pretty it is!!!

I plan to use the palette for a website that is basically a guided tour of a fictional town that's populated by bug people, and while the colors used in the initial character sketches are still my preference, I don't think they look too bad in this proof of concept image! They definitely need some tweaking, and some details in the art itself need correcting, but all around it's not too shabby :>

I also made the logo for the website which, while uninspired, doesn't look that bad. I'm not in a logo design course, so I can't be too upset about that. I made two versions--- a light and dark one--- so that I could have it appear on most colors of background.

Also, I've printed off tons of art and stuck it on my walls over the past few days to inspire me. The art wall has been very successful in beautifying my space, but I've been a bit too worn out to draw much other than the start of a project where I draw individual generations of pokemon by memory. Venusaur looks exactly like I remembered it, but also nothing like that at all. Charizard's line only looks halfway decent by virtue of Twig existing.

I must say, though, that I am charmed by these drawings' doofy lil grins. Just look at Bulbasaur. He is raring to go! Charmander is ready to shake your hand! Look at these lads!!

I've been trying to learn Clip Studio Paint by drawing a new The Present is a Gift comic in it, but I cannot begin to explain to you all how intimidating of a program it is for me. I'm a Procreate gal, y'all. I have a conniption whenever I look at the Photoshop interface. When I look at this:

I am desperate for the cozy white space of this:

I spent over an hour struggling to draw a simple piece for Instagram, admittedly while desperately trying to get OBS to not give out on me while I recorded my screen, but I think that I'm slowly learning how to not faint whenever the Paint window boots up.

Anyhoo--- enjoy the WIP teaser for the upcoming comic featuring a chat between Dusknoir (piloting a KO'd Twig) and Darkrai amidst a cave-in. If I am found dead, know that said comic worked alongside Clip Studio Paint to kill me.

As an update for The Present is a Gift in terms of the fanfic, I recently broke 6,000 words for the first draft. I haven't been writing too regularly--- when I do, it's usually to just sit down for 30 minutes max to try and get a little bit of a head start on NaNoWriMo coming up--- but whenever I do, the words come in batches of 400-700+ at a time. My dudes, I used to take a week to reach the lower end of that amount. I've been beating perfectionism back with a stick while sobbing "Quantity begets quality! Quantity begets quality!", but since I've set myself a challenge to write as many garbage words as possible without editing them until the first draft is done, I've been writing--- and enjoying the process of writing--- more than I have in my entire life.

I've been trying to win NaNoWriMo, a challenge where you write 50k words in November, for the last 7 years. I resigned myself to being a NaNo rebel and trying to write just 15k words next month. But if I keep cranking out 1,500 words in under two writing sprints per day--- without properly trying to eliminate distractions--- I think I could actually win for once??? I didn't think Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanfiction would be what gave me a fighting chance at winning NaNoWriMo, but here I am. PMD brainrot truly is a miraculous thing, but I'll have to see exactly miraculous it is on the 1st of November.

So... yep! I probably should have figured out a way to sign off on check-in posts before deciding to publish this. Oops. Welp. Um. Thanks for reading?

Sincerely, Sofie

[5eraphim]

posting this here instead of main bc i like to keep my writing stuff here,

i stopped attaching songs to fics bc i was sick of being like "who the hell is gonna listen to this?" every single time i included one. i like using quotes a lot more to be honest bc its a much more effective to give the reader a peek of the story's vibe

but usually id wait till the last moment to pick a song to attach, or i'll pick a few and decide ever everything was written.

usually i sort of let the prompt marinate in my head and think of one scene i really wanna write, or some kind of specific dialogue interaction

before starting the draft i write out an outline in longhand in a notebook and include notes on the margin abt content warnings and what dirty stuff i wanna add. (im sorry this is very cumbersome and weird but its the only way that makes sense to me)

also i sort of break the outline into chunks and usually end up starting the fic somewhere in the middle to write the part i care about the most. and then kinda skip around and hope for the best when i get to editing.

in my experience if you write smut, or explicit content, you really gotta force yourself to write it in one sitting. ive found its so hard to write the endings to dirty scenes if i cant quite remember the feelings i started with, if that makes sense?

examples of scene inspired fics:

solly getting his boots kissed in hunting party

not gonna lie when i read the request for nuthin' personal i knew right away i wanted sniper to use jarate to "rub a little salt in the wound" if you know what i mean

trypanaphobia, or more generally using a phobia against you to force cooperation (upcoming story)

examples of dialogue inspired fics:

Engie's "so you think i'm the selfish one" interaction from birthday cake

scout's ma talking about what scout's been through and about how he was growing up, why he gave up on wanting to find his father talk from puppy eyes

basically all of doomer medic's lines in heaven waits. like i basically wrote his lines at once and went back to add the other half of the conversation and narration. i usually like to write dialogue first then fill in the narrative blanks, but ive always write every character's dialogue together (bc thats what makes more sense) but heaven waits has been the only acceptation.

i cant write chronologically to save my life so i like to let whatever sparks my creativity the most to start. writing long hand helps me visualize what scenes are gonna be the longest/ get a general idea what the beginning middle and end are gonna look like.

also writing longhand is good when u have ideas at odd hours of the night u wanna jot down and remember rather than using notes app bc the notepad's not going to irritate your eyes like a screen would. i think that deserves a shout out.

[simpingandshitposting]

Kingdom of Fire

-Part 3

Source

Shoto x f!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: hey guys 👋 I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long, I've been having a weird wave of unmotivation, ya'll know how it be😂 But I'm getting back into things :) I've got soooo many unfinished fics in my drafts so you'll have plenty to look forward to <3

This chapter has a time skip so you're getting treated to our first full blown smut scene for this series 🥰 as well as a little fluff bc I'm a hopeless romantic :')

As always, feedback is appreciated. Let me know if, and what you liked about it and if you want to be added to the Tag-list with all of these lovely people<3

@haru-x-ren

@motzgurke

@mikasbloodbag

@shoutocakie

@electricnovaa

@juslili

Warnings⚠️: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, oral (f receiving), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, a little biting, slight choking (all three not very prominent), sho's a bit aggressive but not much, mentions of body worship, mentions of an arranged marriage and loss of virginity.

Series plot: Prince Shoto battles with his own desire and his father's wishes, when he meets you. A young sorceress who didn't know who he was. You become friends and help him discover his true power. The two of you journey thru many obstacles before he has to make a decision. You? Or the Throne?

Chapter Summary: Shoto starts to realize the very real possibility that he may be falling in love you, confessing some of his feelings while you have him a bit vulnerable. You make his heart weak, and he can't say he really minds.

Word Count: 3.9k

It was late morning. The loud whistle of the tea kettle rings through the house. As you reach for it, taking it off the fire, the whistle fades and you hear a knock on the door. And you're sure you know exactly who it is. You smooth down the front of your dress, making your way to the door. You reach for the handle, pulling it open.

You are met with familiar mismatched eyes as shoto lifts his head to meet your gaze. His attire much more casual than before. You were about to say good morning, but he spoke first. "I have... So many questions." He held your book in his hands. You laugh and step aside, letting him in your home. You shut the door behind him as his tall form entered the room. "Tea?" You ask, walking back to your now quiet kettle. "Oh- yes, please" he took a seat in the large chair that your father, when home, spends most of his time in. You grabbed two hand made mugs from the cupboard, beginning to pour the warm liquid. "How far did you get? In the book I mean." You picked up both mugs, handing one off to him before sitting across from his chair. He mutters a small thank you before answering your question. "I finished it." You froze in the middle of a sip. "You finished it? Like... The whole thing? You gestured to the book he held with a circular wave of your hand. He nodded with all seriousness. You laugh. "Shoto, that book is as thick as your neck and you finished it in one day?" He shrugs, giving you a smile. "I'm a fast reader." You set down your mug on a near by table and lean forward in his direction. "What are your questions?"

He opens the book and flips through a few pages, searching for something. "Ah ha!" He points a finger when he finds it. He stands from his chair and comes to sit next to you on the sofa. He sits shoulder to shoulder with you, leaving no personal space. He holds the book in front of you and points to a string of sentences. "Okay, so here it says..."

~

For the next few hours, he rattles off question after question. Each answer you give resulting in even more questions. You watch the glint of curiosity and fascination in his eyes when you speak. He watches you intently when you made examples of things with your hands. You move your hands a lot when you speak. He noticed the way your hair constantly fell in front of your face. You tuck your hair behind your ear a lot. He watched your face contort to emotion with every explanation you gave him. You're very expressive. He pays attention to the way your foot shakes mid-air while crossed over the other. Or the way you rub your thumb on the flat part of your necklace when you're thinking. You fidget a lot.

He took note of all your little mannerisms. Studying you.

~

"okay, does all of that make sense to you?" He nods. "Yeah, I think so" you close the book and push it to the far side of the table. "Okay, good." You resituate yourself so your body is facing him. "Now that we have the basic knowledge out of the way, we can start working on your level of control" he nods. "From what you've told me, right now you can maintain a constant flame in your palm, correct?" He nods again. "Okay." You reach behind you where you laid your mug so many hours ago, now surley cold. You hand it to him. "I want you to try to focus on the heat of your fire. Don't ignite a flame, just warm the tea." You instruct him. He wraps his palm around the mug, his large hand almost covering the whole thing. He stares at it, and focuses. A flame ignites, encompassing the entire mug. He panics and immediately splays ice over the spot on the table. "Shit-" he mumbles under his breath. "That's okay, try again." You pick up his glass of tea this time and hand it to him. "Focus. Breath. Think about what you want the fire to do." You pause, he takes a deep breath. He looks a bit tense. "You control the fire, It does not control you." You lay a hand on his thigh, he finds it comforting. He breaths deep again, wrapping his hand around the mug and closing his eyes.

Think about what you want it to do.

You control the fire. It doesn't not control you.

His hand feels warm. He opens his eyes and the liquid starts to steam and bubble. But there's no flame. He looks over to you for approval and you smile. "good, now do it with the ice."

You've been helping Shoto for about 3 months now. He's spent almost every other day with you... and some nights. Most days are spent practicing with his power, but some are just hours spent in each other's company. And the nights? Well... after a while the two of you gave into the tension and sank into the white sheets of your bed.

He's come over a few times, visibly frustrated or upset. He'd never go into much detail, just talk about how his father aggravated him. Or how he's stressed with "responsibilities", whatever that's supposed to mean. Whenever you'd ask him to elaborate, he'd avoid giving you a straight answer. Telling you that "the finer details are unimportant." Or that he just didn't want to talk about it.

Today happened to be one of those days.

Shoto was sitting across the table from where you stood. He was supposed to be paying attention to what you were showing him. But he seemed to be off in his own little world.

"Hey!" You snapped your fingers in his face, bringing him out of his trance. "are you paying attention?"

"yeah— sorry. I'm listening." He readjusted in his chair, turning his gaze to you. You sighed, and closed your book. "You're clearly not in the right headspace to retain this information today, we'll pick back up on it next time."

"I'm sorry." He ran a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. You rounded the table, coming behind him. "It's okay." There was a small bowl on the table that was filled with a clear, thick, creamy substance. It smelled of mint and lemon. You dabbed some on your fingers and began to rub them against his temple.

This was something you used to watch your mother do with your father when he was feeling stressed or drained. You've done it for Shoto a few times and it seemed to help. As soon as your fingers touched his skin he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His head rested against your stomach behind him. He let out a small groan of pleasure as you continued to massage his temples, using your magic to soothe him.

"Talk to me, what's got you so distracted." He sighed, but didn't respond right away. "Something to do with your father again?" He gave a small nod. "Is he putting too much pressure on you, Sho?" He smiled at the nickname, but it quickly faded.

"He's trying to set me into an arranged marriage." He starts with another deep sigh. You felt a bit of a knot form in your stomach. Though your relationship with him has been nothing but physical, save for your friendship, the thought of him marrying another woman was unpleasant. "That's not an uncommon thing, most marriages are arranged these days." You hid your distaste and continued rubbing circles into his skin. "I know...but that's not what I want." Your hands traveled to his jaw, massaging the skin more. "Well, what do you want then?" He sighed again, and leaned into your touch. "Someone I can't have..."

A small smile caught the corner of your lips. "You have someone specific in mind?" He nods, still leaning into the palm of your hand. "What's she like?" Your hands were on his neck, softly digging your thumbs into the nape. He tilted his head forward to give you access. "Her beauty is unmatched by any woman I've ever laid eyes on." He paused and you smiled. "and she's smart, and assertive. Kind, caring." He paused again as your hands reached his shoulders, snaking into the collar of his shirt, just enough to press your palms against his skin. He could feel the stress leaving his body as his head leaned back on your stomach once again. "...and her skin is so soft." He subconsciously nuzzled his head into you with his last words. "She sounds lovely" you said with a bit of sarcasm in your voice. The corner of his lips turned upwards. "she is." He replied.

"Are you feeling better?" Your warm hands left his skin. He contemplated asking you to keep going, but decided against it. "Much, thank you."

As you walked back around the table, he stood from his chair and followed you. He was right behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He leaned over your shoulder and reached around your waist to put a hand on the book you had closed. He opened it. "Explain this to me again, I promise I'm paying attention this time."

You began your explanation again. The whole time he was being a bit distracting. The way his breath tickled the back of your neck, the sound of his low hum in response to you reverberating in your ears. The way he smelled engulfing you as he towered over you from behind.

You didn't notice but at one point, he took a whiff of your hair. The same scent that lingered on his cloak from your first night together. He wished he could be drowned in your scent all the time.

This was supposed to be nothing more than a little fun. Although he was grateful for your teaching, in terms of his feelings for you, it was never meant to be anything more than physical. You wouldn't be the first. He was popular among women, they all swoon for the young prince, dropping their panties for him as soon as he enters a room. But you... you were different for some reason.

From the moment he met you, you captured his attention in a way that no one had before. He wasn't sure what exactly it was, but it made him want to take his time with you. Even make him consider the fact that it may not just be a desire to get you into bed. he may actually like you.

He looks forward to spending time with you, listening to you ramble during lessons, and he appreciated your patience with him. But of course... there was still the constant lingering thought of bending you over this very table.

He still stood behind you, watching you work and listening to you talk. Your words paused as you were mixing a few herbs together, showing him how to make an elixir.

He couldn't stop his eyes from wondering as he lost himself in thought. The view of your breasts from where he towered over you was very distracting and causing an ache to grow below his belt. It was almost painful the way it strained against the soft cotton of his pants, just thinking about it.

"y/n." He spoke your name so softly. "Yes Shoto?" You responded, not even looking up from the table. "Can I ask you something?" His hand rested on the table, coming around you. "What's on your mind?"

"Have you ever loved someone?" His question caught you a bit of guard. "How do you mean?" he shifted from one foot to the other. "I mean. Has there ever been someone that you cared deeply for? Not like your family. Like... romantically." You shook your head with a small smile. "No, I haven't. Like I've told you before, I've spent my entire life in this house, secluded from society." You turned around, gaze meeting his. You're just now realizing how close he's been standing to you this whole time, and your skin ran hot. "You're the first friend I've made." You added.

"Ever?" He questions, quirking a brow. "Ever." You reply. "Have you? Loved someone I mean." He shook his head as a response. He leaned a little closer to you before speaking again. "Can I ask you another, more.... personal... question?" You nodded, a bit too distracted by the lack of space between the two of you. "if I'm the first friend you've made..." You felt his hand come to rest of your waist and your breath hitched. "...does that mean that I was your—"

"Yes. You were my first." You answered before he finished, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. A smile crept up on his lips. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have been a lot more gentle." His grip on your waist tightened a bit, pulling you closer. You brought your hand to his chest, the other coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You gave a mischievous smirk. "Maybe I didn't want you to be gentle." He hummed is response and pressed his lips to yours. It was soft, but there was a hunger behind it. You felt both of his hands run up the length of your spine, catching his fingers in the strings that held your dress together. He pulled at the loose knot and suddenly the fabric didn't feel so tight.

He pulled it off your shoulders and down your arms, letting it fall at your feet. His hands were back on your waist, pressing his thumbs into your soft skin. They moved to the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the table top and pushing aside whatever you were previously working on. You began to unbutton his white shirt, and once you reached the bottom, he eagerly pulled it off his arms, letting it meet your dress on the floor. His lips were on your neck and you moaned when his teeth found a sensitive spot. He pulled you flush against his chest, the tent in his pants poking at your stomach. His fingers pushed at the fabric of your bralette and he pulled his lips away from you. You lifted your arms and he pulled it over your head, throwing it on the table behind you. His lips were back on yours in an instant and his hand trailing your thighs. He pulled them to straddle his waist, hooking your ankles together.

The way his mixture of warm and cool hands slowly wrapped around your torso, molding your body's together was intoxicating. His touch was never filled with anything other than complete love and care. Even when he was rough with you, the way he touched you spoke more than his words ever could.

Without breaking your kiss, his body leaned against yours, pushing to have your back lay against the hard wood of the table. His teeth caught your bottom lip and tugged on it as he pulled away. His gentle kisses continued down your neck, finding all the spots that made your skin burn with desire. He left a few on your collar bone and in the valley of your two mounds. You looked down at him thru lidded eyes, him looking up at you the same way as his tongue splayed flat over your areola. That sweet tingle going straight between your legs while he liked and sucked on your sensitive buds. He started kissing down your soft stomach, squeezing it with his hands as they moved up and down your love handles, not leaving any part of you untouched for too long. "You are so perfect." He whispered against your skin, moving his hands now to caress your thighs. A light blush coated your face and your skin ran hot. You closed your eyes and let him admire your body.

His fingers hooked into the thin fabric of your panties, slowly pulling them past your knees and meeting them with the rest of your clothing. He grabbed your thighs and spread your legs open, exposing your glorious, glistening sex to him. He peppered soft, gentle kisses down your inner thigh, never failing to make you feel worshiped. He put another soft kiss right over the hood of your clit, licking his lips after. He slowly licked between your folds with a pointed tongue, teasing your bud every time he passed over it. Then wrapping his whole mouth around you, sucking on the wet skin. He groaned against you and closed his eyes, his hands travelling upwards to give your breasts more attention. His tongue pushed past your entrance at the same time giving your nipple a particularly hard squeeze. Your back arched off the table and he only pushed his mouth onto you more. You were moaning and whimpering for him and it had to be his favorite sound. No music could ever compare to the way you moaned for him.

One hand left your breast and you felt two fingers breach your entrance. "Oh fuck Sho~" you whined. He was practically leaking pre cum in his pants. His other hand now left your breast as well to quickly free himself of the white cotton. With a bit of a struggle, he managed to unbuckle his belt with one hand and pull out his throbbing, leaking member. He groaned against your skin as he pumped himself, savoring the flavor you left on his tongue. He felt you tighten around his fingers and he wrapped his lips around your sensitive bud, prepared to send you to your climax. Your whimpers were getting louder and you grabbed onto a fistful of his two-toned hair. "Ngh~ please" you were so close.

He hooked his fingers just right and there it was. You squeezed your eyes shut, arched your back And opened your mouth for a silent scream, holding your breath. If you'd pulled any harder on his hair you might have ripped it from his scalp. You let out the breath you were holding in your lungs with a loud cry of pleasure. Heavy breaths followed as you writhed with sensitivity beneath him. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your soaking wet heat. You kept your eyes closed, trying to collect yourself. More soft kisses met the skin on your stomach, chest and neck. He gently held your waist and turned you over, legs dangling from the table. He tossed your hair over your shoulder, pressing his chest against your back and kissing your neck more. He spoke, his words soft and quiet. "I'm starting to think you've put a spell on me with how addicted to you I've become, love." He kissed in between your shoulder blades, then where your spine curved. "It's like I need you constantly... It never goes away."

You let out a small whimper against the table when you felt his pelvis press firmly against you. He stood straight, arm encircling your waist to pull you back against his chest, planting your feet on the floor. His knee parted your legs, thumb pushing his shaft to line himself with your entrance. He came close to your ear and whispered. "It truly hurts to know that I can't make you mine." He slid in-between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, letting out a heavy breath. "I already am yours, Sho." The moment those words came out of your mouth, he shoved himself completely inside you, sinfully groaning at how tight you felt. A hand landed on your waist, forcing your back to arch while the other held your throat, keeping your head against his shoulder. "Fuck the things you do to me, love." Your face had to be beet red, eye lids flutter from his large dick splitting you open. He wasn't slow with the way he fuck you. No, he intended to take all his stress and anger out on your gummy walls, showing you absolutely no mercy.

He pushed on your back more, making you arch further, forcing those strangled screams from your lungs. Thank the gods your home was in the middle of nowhere, otherwise the town gossips would surely have a topic to discuss for days.

"ngh~ Shoto p-please" you begged for your release. Your walls fluttered around him, bringing more groans from his mouth. His hand left your throat and moved to rub circles over your little bundle of nerves. His lips replaced his hand, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck, even nibbling on the skin a bit. You let out a whiney whimper and your second orgasm washed over you, and the way he was pulsating inside you indicated that he wasn't very far behind. He let your upper body fall to the table, gently of course, and grabbed onto the doughy skin of your hips with both hands. He squeezed his grip and pounded into you aggressively, making you scream and your eyes brim with tears.

You were so sensitive that the feeling of him pushing your g-spot was almost painful. He let out his own throaty whimper when rope after rope of white seed spilled out inside of you. He collapsed onto your back, breathing heavy and unsheathing himself from you. Neither of you moved for a few minutes while you felt his cum slide down your thigh and drop into a little puddle on the floor.

He made sure to get you nice and cleaned up, helped you sit somewhere comfortable while your legs healed from their jello-like state. He brought you some warm tea and a blanket, cuddling up with you on the sofa in front of your lit fire place. His arm rested over the back cushion and your head laid comfortably on the inside of his shoulder. He set his cup of tea down on the table and settled a bit more into the seat. It was already dark, little light in the room besides the bright fire and the low illumination from the moon. Your head nuzzled against him. "Are you staying the night?"

He breathed out a low hum. "Do you want me to?" He asked, pulling some of your hair from your face. You closed your eyes and nodded, nuzzling yourself into his body more." Though you couldn't see it, he smiled. Nothing but admiration in his eyes while he peered down at you. He ran a hand over your soft hair. "Alright love, I'll stay."

The rest of the night faded quickly, falling into a comfortable sleep in his arms.

The next morning was much of the same. Waving him off in the early hours so he could make it home before noon. Waiting patiently to see him again a day or two from now.

~

Late that evening, you heard the familiar sound of hooves outside the window. You were sure shoto wouldn't be back so soon, so you peaked thru the curtains to see who it may be. To your surprise, your eyes were met with a wooden cart filled with fabrics and fruits, a few tools here and there. A friendly old man climbing down from the old, dingy saddle placed on the back of a blonde horse whose speckled pattern you knew all too well.

Your father had finally returned home.

[soulwillower]

housesitting •  richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe. 

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home. 

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and  you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.' 

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner. 

because good god, that was an awful trip. 

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away. 

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer. 

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend. 

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?" 

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends). 

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment." 

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and- 

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm. 

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am."  "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap. 

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face. 

- 

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment. 

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window. 

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits. 

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize. 

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand. 

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine. 

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head. 

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time." 

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently. 

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for. 

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?" 

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him.  "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle. 

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully. 

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll." 

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night." 

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap. 

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour. 

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?" 

he hums, eyeing you but not responding. 

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?" 

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep." 

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie." 

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum." 

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah." 

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you. 

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow. 

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?” 

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face. 

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.  

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you." 

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need. 

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed. 

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing. 

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs. 

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you." 

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer. 

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen. 

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will. 

“you’re hot.” you blurt. 

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms. 

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds. 

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants." 

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release. 

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?" 

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you, 

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?" 

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips. 

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good. 

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly. 

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a  slut.” 

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please. 

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing. 

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly, 

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers. 

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back. 

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own. 

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me." 

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck. 

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?" 

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut." 

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit. 

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently. 

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere." 

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me." 

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good." 

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere." 

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door. 

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass. 

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high. 

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly. 

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that." 

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen." 

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.” 

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters  @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Dating Bishop Losa Would Include...

A/N: what’s wild is thinking I posted this only to realize it was sitting in my drafts. Showing my all time favorite love some love 😍

Rating: 💙

Check out the others I’ve done so far?: Dating Angel Reyes + Dating Ezekiel Reyes

✦ Bishop is entirely too old -- both physically and mentally --for playing games.

✧ So, if you’re looking for some quick, undefined and slightly messy, drama filled hookups please spare him the headache, and consult with a younger member of the MC

✦ The man’s got a lot of shit on his plate -- so stable, supportive relationships are his favorite cup of tea

✧ Doesn’t believe in beating around the bush, so expect an A class Old School Gentleman, wine and dine — treat you like a queen — from the beginning

✦ When you first get together, it takes Bish a minute to actually get with the program

✧ It’s been a while since he’s had an Old Lady — one who can actually handle sharing him with the MC — so cut him some slack.

✦ He’s not used to sending someone updates about his plans and whereabouts

✧ Hank might of nudged Bishop a few times — “you might wanna let the Old Lady know....”

✦ He’s also not used to someone waiting for him to come home.

✧ Seriously — cut the man some slack — he feels like shit when he finds you half-awake at 2 am that first time

✦ He’s apologetic AF if he misses a date, or has to cancel on you 

✧ You not riding him about it because you know he’s already stretched thin enough

✦ But once he gets with the program, Bishop keeps you in the loop

✧ Not with just his movements, but with the status of the MC as well

✦ Obispo BLEEDS LOYALTY AND TRUST — so as his Old Lady you’re expected to help him bear the weigh

✧ He’s not the type to unload each and every detail — in fact, he’s pretty bad at trying to carry the weight by himself

✦ There are just some aspects of the club he doesn’t think you should be involved in,  so he filters out some things when relaying it to you

✧ It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle it, he just doesn’t want you to worry — because man do you worry. And when you worry, Bishop worries so....

✦ Some nights it weighs on him. Those nights he’s different. His kisses are needy, hands rough

✧ He’ll ask for your opinion. It takes a while for you to feel comfortable enough to offer it, but he quickly learns sometimes you’ll give it without his asking

✦ Regardless, he respects your opinion even if it doesn’t always align with his

✧ Arguments are truly unavoidable — he carries around a lot of pressure and stress -- but Bish is really good at letting you vent 

✦ Sometimes he can’t catch himself, and he yells in the heat of the moment — the quickest to apologize

✧ Let a single tear fall, he’s next to you in a heartbeat

✦ Once your relationship becomes serious the most important question is -- Are you dating? OR Are you married?

✧ YOU’RE BASICALLY MARRIED

✦ You’re literally the only person who can knock him down a couple of notches

✧ And the only one bold enough to try it 

✦ Remember how Bishop doesn’t have time to play games? 

✧ When he introduces you to the MC it’s basically an unspoken promotion ceremony -- get ready to become the live-in mother to his children MC

✦ Bishop knows you do it for him, but also because the boys love you, and you love them.

✧ Tries his best to show how much he appreciates you taking on the responsibility. There are moments when he catches you, a deep kiss following. 

✦ “What’s that for?” You smile. 

✧ His lips soft against your forehead. “I love you.”

✦ Bish worries about the MC way more than he lets on -- WAY FREAKING MORE

✧ He’s pretty sure each day they knock a year off his life -- so he smokes way too much

✦ You tease him about it all the time -- “You smoke too much.”

✧ “Would you rather me strangle one of them?”

✦ Seeing you with the MC, and how easily they gravitate to you and how you help them relax, he’s hooked but let him see you around kids --

✧ All of a sudden, the idea of having kids doesn’t seem impossible

✦ Bishop listens to input from others, but sometimes he’s all about that tough love 

✧ The boys play you two like true freaking parents  

✦ They know when Bish is one of his tough love trips, all they have to do is mention something, and you’ll get Bishop to loosen up

✧ Angel is usually the one sent to butter you up —primarily because he’s the one getting that tough love --  Bishop falls victim to this 99% of the time 

✦ Loves to relax against you after a long day -- head against your chest with your fingers in his hair

✧ He always protests -- because it’s not necessary -- but he’ll  hand his phone over to you so that he can relax.  Even if it is for just an hour.

✦ He might or might not have one of the boys stay behind when he goes on a long club run. You learn to deal with the random check ins during his absence. 

✧ If you’re pregnant, and he’s gone for more than a couple of days, expect one of the guys to stay in the guest room. 

✦ He will literally not budge on this one

✧ You’re literally a goddess on earth -- Bishop worships the ground you walk on 

✦ Protective AF -- bleeds into him being overprotective at times. Primarily because he worries you might get affected by blowback from a club decision

✧ He knows you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but he still worries 

✦ License to carry -- Bish teaches you how to shoot. It gives him peace of mind so you indulge him  

✧ King of whispered compliments as he stops to steal a passing kiss

✦ He thinks it funny when guys try and flirt with you -- primarily because they don’t realize you’ll probably eat them alive. 

✧ As long as you’re smiling he’s cool, but let someone get handsy or not shut down their advances and Bishop’s stepping in

✦ Would literally kill someone with his bare hands if they hurt you 

✧ Don’t think that “harmless” flirting will be forgotten. Bishop’s got patience for days. You can’t tease him into cracking first so his payback is torture

✦ Bish is a natural born flirt -- homeboy is dripping in that natural born charisma that can diffuse most situations -- and the flirting does not stop once you start dating

✧ Pretty sure your permanent seat is his lap. He’ll drag you onto his lap, arm around your waist no matter what he’s doing

✦ This man is made of kisses for days. Whether it be a quick kiss to your cheek, forehead, or fingers. Or a stolen moment away from the club, kisses improve his mood 100000% 

✧ Typically seen with his arm draped around your shoulder, lips pressed against your temple or cheek

✦ When he feels guilty, for being too busy, he’s extra romantic. He’ll make dinner, pop up unannounced at your job when he’s got time to spare 

✧ "What do you want, Obispo?”

✦ “Just making sure you don’t run off on me,” he chuckles.

✧ You know those stories you read about where someone’s husband gave his wife flowers religiously every single week -- that’s some Obispo Losa type of shit

✦ May be a gentleman, but definitely rough in the bedroom -- 

✧ And in Templo -- you’ve lost count the number of times he’s taken you over that table or had you down on your knees

✦ Quickies. He’s a busy man, if he’s got time he’s not going to object to you pulling him away

✧ If you’re going to “accidentally” send a needy text while he’s working or you woke up thinking you’re gonna be sassy -- please know he’ll call you on your shit

✦ He has no problem having the room cleared & one of the guys relaying that “....he wants to see you.”

✧ His patience will outlast yours any day -- so get mouthy and try and cause a scene if you want --

✦ Most def leaves a kiss against the back of your hand every time he leaves you

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[sohin-ace]

Jotaro - Kakyoin's Notebook

I'm sorry, I clickbaited y'all. The pairing in this story is not official.

...unless?

As you were all about to check out of the hotel, You decided to go back to everyone's respective rooms to make sure none of you forgot anything.

The crusaders were downstairs and you came up, checking every room. Everything seemed okay, you only needed to check Kakyoin and Jotaro's room last and then go back down.

You entered their room and looked everywhere. You stumbled onto a little notebook that was halfway underneath one of the pillows right as you were about to leave.

"Huh? Oops, I nearly didn't see that!" You bent down and took the notebook in your hands. It was just about pocket-sized. "Oh I do remember Jotaro having something like that, better get it back to him!"

Out of fateful clumsiness, the notebook slipped out of your hands and fell on the ground, opening on a random page. You crouched to pick it up, but then, your gaze fell upon what was on the page.

Your breath hitched in speechless confusion at what you saw, written at the top, in big font.

'Y/NxJotaro'

Why was your name and Jotaro's on that page? Was that some kind of memo? You knew Jotaro had the habit of taking notes to remember things, but why was your name in there?

Your curiosity got the best of you and you continued to look down the page, swiping through the others. You knew it was terribly wrong and you were invading his privacy but you were just so lost. It concerned you, there was your name on it.

" 'One-shot Draft... WIP', What does that even mean? J-... Jotaro did this?" You mumbled out loud, face scrunching up in confusion and slight fear as you looked through words you couldn't understand.

" 'Soulmate AU', 'Drabble', 'NSFW'? Are those some kind of codes?"

Pages long of stories decorated the sheets, so many you couldn't read everything. There were even some sketches and drawings that you didn't have the heart to look at. You managed to read some pieces of stories that left you even more confused. You read to yourself.

' "W-wait!" Y/N said as tears prickled in her eyes, her face flushed with innocent shyness. "I-It's my first time..."

"Don't worry," Jotaro spoke, hovering above her, his voice deep and soothing. "I'll be gentle." '

...What? You don't remember ever saying anything of the sort? You couldn't comprehend what you were reading. Whatever was written in there never happened and was fictional or somesuch to you.

When it was just too much for you to handle, you closed the notebook, your face still strained with mixed feelings.

Only then did you notice that there was a cherry sticker on the back of the notebook. After looking at the first page, you saw the name of the owner.

Noriaki Kakyoin.

"K-kakyo-... Oh my gosh..."

You were shocked, but somehow relieved. It made more sense than the author being Jotaro, but it still blew you away, the fact that Kakyoin would write such things on your and Jotaro's behalf.

Suddenly, Polnareff walked by and noticed you through the open door. You flinched when he called out to you and entered the room.

"Ah there you are Y/N! We started to worry!" He approached you and he noticed what you were holding. "Oh that's Kakyoin's notebook! He can't live without it, good thing you found it! Okay, let's go now, the others are waiting. Allez, on y va!"

He guided you out of the room and you followed, clutching the notebook. Polnareff didn't have to know the weird things written on it about you and Jotaro. You had to discover what it all meant.

"That's bullshit. You don't make any sense, Y/N." Jotaro scoffed at you, a few hours after the little hotel room occurence.

"I swear on my future husband's life! I'll prove it to you, look." You turned around and looked for your red haired friend. "Kakyoin! Can I doodle something on your notebook please~?"

"Huh?" He looked at you questioningly. "Why all of a sudden?"

"Well, Mr. Joestar will take a while to come back, so might as well kill some time. I'll write a cute message for you to read on the last train home!"

The red head smiled at your goofiness and thought 'why not?'. He took out his notebook along with a pen, but instead of giving it to you, he opened it on a specific empty page.

"Here," He handed you the items. "Only draw on this page. Don't draw on the other pages."

You nodded. "Got it! Thank you Kakyoin~!"

You smiled innocently and as soon as the male turned his back to you, your expression turned dark and you instantly looked for Jotaro who was sitting nearby.

"Jojo! Here, I have it, let's do this!" You stood in front of him with the notebook in your hands and he sighed.

"Yare yare daze, I'm not betraying his trust because of your shadiness."

"It's not like that! There's-..." You cut yourself off to look behind you and check if Kakyoin was looking.

You leaned down, inching towards Jotaro's face and whispered quietly. "There are things about us in here. Last time I saw it on accident, but if Kakyoin writes stuff about us, it's our legitimate right to know!"

"Says who? Are you a lawyer or something?"

"Jojo please!!" You pleaded while gripping on the collar of his gakuran, moving the chains on it and making them clang loudly.

The sudden noise alerted the cherry-haired fellow who turned his head to look at you both from afar. His eyes instantly widened and sparkled with vicious yet happy stars.

He loved to see his two best friends interract and, he knew damn well he took half of your interractions out of context, but that's what made them so good. His imagination started running wild at the scene before him.

The way you desperately held onto Jotaro, your faces, so close to each other, your begging eyes looking at him, yearning for his lips, waiting for one thing only.

'Jojo, please!' Kakyoin muttered what he imagined you would say. 'Say yes... I've been dying to kiss you!'

Back to you two, Jotaro clicked his tongue and looked away, closing his eyes in frustration. He hated the fact that he just couldn't refuse you anything.

"Tch! You're so fucking annoying. Fine, I get it, give it to me." Jotaro grumbled and moved your hands away from him, snatching the notebook from your hand.

'Tch! You know I can't resist you. Fine, don't beg for me to stop when I start messing you up.' Kakyoin continued, imitating his friend's deep voice under his breath and being surprisingly in character, for the inappropriate things he was imagining.

Kakyoin tensed up with anticipation when Jotaro suddenly grabbed your wrists, his big strong hands overpowering your fragile ones easily. You may have made the first move, but he would take the lead.

If it wasn't for the public surrounding you, Kakyoin was sure his friend would have gotten up and slammed you against the wall, pinning your hands at your side while you whimpered his name cutely. But he had to hold back, at least for now, or so Kakyoin daydreamed.

"Hey Kakyoin, what're you looking at? Come here for a bit!"

Before Kakyoin could even see the rest of the scene, which happened to be the most interesting part, he was interrupted by Polnareff who was in dire need for help with a nearby vending machine that seemed to have eaten his money.

Kakyoin sighed a bit annoyed, but joined his French comrade, not even glancing back at you. He'd have to remember to write everything down as soon as you gave him back his notebook.

Kakyoin Noriaki was an average boy that loved action and adventures, but he secretely wasn't immune to a good sweet romance story.

When you joined the crusaders, your interactions with Jotaro seemed as platonic as with the rest of the men. But for some reason, the boy started to feel some kind of connection between you two.

He didn't know when or how it started, but he felt like something was different at a certain point.

Why was it so cute when, one day, you removed Jotaro's hat to fix the pins that were moved out of place after a fight, and he let you put it back on him, even though he never lets anybody touch it?

Or maybe it was that other time in a restaurant where, after Jotaro eyed your dessert for a while, you exchanged your cakes to let him have a taste, stealing a bite from his own in the process.

Or that day when you struggled put your earrings back on and he had to help you out, only to struggle even more, his fingers too big and clumsy to be accurate. He had to call out Star Platinum to do it while he held your hair out of the way.

Even the simplest of gestures seemed romantic and adorable to him. He was sure something was going on between you two, and yet, you were too dense to realize it. All of this fueled his inner fanboy and it prevented him from sleeping at night.

He shipped you two so goddamn much.

He was guilty, but he loved every single bit of it. Of course, no one could know. If someone knew, especially you two, that'd be the end of him.

You were all waiting for the next train to arrive, which was a big 40 minutes. Joseph and Abdul went to buy something to snack on while you waited and Polnareff went to the restroom.

Kakyoin was sitting next to you, his back resting against the wall and his eyes were closed. As you thought he had fallen asleep, you took this moment to turn the other way to talk to your nonchalant friend.

"You see?" You spoke softly, careful to not wake Kakyoin up. "I told you there were stuff about us in that notebook!"

"Shut up, there were only messages on that page, I'm sure the others were the same." He grumbled with the same low intensity as you. "And you know damn well he can be a weirdo sometimes."

"But still, I want to understand... And also, what does 'smut' even mean?"

He pretended to be asleep, but his mind was racing.

Kakyoin who wasn't quite sleeping and very much listening to whatever he could hear through the background noise of the station, flinched and started blushing.

Just, when and where did you heard that term?

" 'Smut'?" Jotaro looked at you with confused furrowed eyebrows. "Hell if I know. You speak better english than I do, shouldn't you know?"

"Well I..."

Before the conversation could go down even further, Kakyoin feigned waking up and got up from his slouched position.

You noticed and turned around, staring at him, scared that he would ask what you were talking about, as you didn't want to confront him about the weird things you saw in his notes. If he ever knew, he would finish you. But something worse happened.

Jotaro nudged you and tilted his head towards Kakyoin, but you quite didn't get the message.

"Oi Kakyoin, do you know what 'smut' means? You know a lot of languages, right?" Jotaro asked like it was nothing and you gasped, secretly wanting to slap Jotaro for his indiscretion.

Kakyoin looked over at him, unfazed as ever. "Smut? Hmmm I guess I can look it up later. Where did you hear that?"

Jotaro innocently signed your death warrant. "Y/N just told me."

"JOTARO!!!" You shot up from your seat and stared at him in pure disbelief and betrayal. "OH MY- ARE YOU SERIOUS?! YOU TRAITOR!!!"

"Oh really?" Kakyoin teased, sending you a knowing look. "What's going on with you two? Are you keeping secrets from me?"

You blushed and flinched as Kakyoin's amethyst eyes stared through your soul. Before Jotaro could say anything else, you slapped a hand over his big mouth and Kakyoin's eye glinted.

"I-I mean... No! Wait. There's something I need to tell Jojo, excuse us for a sec."

You then leaned in and cupped Jotaro's ear as you whispered. Kakyoin looked at you in pure satisfaction, trying his best to not start smiling and giggling like a goofy schoolgirl.

Oh no, he didn't need to hear the sweet nothings you were deliciously breathing on Jotaro's now tingling skin. Imagining it was more than enough.

You leaned back and softly spoke to him. "Don't ruin this for us. I'm trusting you."

"Yare Yare daze. You put me into this in the first place. Don't complain."

Kakyoin's eyes widened and he turned his head around, trying to hide his expression and pretended he totally didn't hear that. Oh how sweet the lack of context was for his little fanboy mind. He wouldn't ask too many questions since you were offering him such a good show.

On the train, you waited until Kakyoin was completely out and asleep to subdue his notebook. That would make a good reading on the 4 hours long travel.

"Yes that's it! Right on the left pocket, yeah that one!"

You guided Jotaro who was hiding not too far from Kakyoin's seat as your delinquent friend used Star Platinum to steal your cherry loving friend's notebook.

When he finally had it, Star Platinum brought it back and both you and Jotaro proceeded to read through the many drafts and stories about you two.

Getting ready for one hell of a joy ride.

Bonus:

Kakyoin stretched and took a deep breath of fresh air as he got off the train.

"Aah~! I slept like a log. Huh? What's wrong, why are you two so red? Did you get motion sick, maybe?"

Kakyoin commented upon seeing your and Jotaro's flushed face as you got off. Your shoulders were slumped in shame and Jotaro was hiding behind his hat like a wanted criminal.

"Uh yeah... Here Kakyoin, you dropped this..." you groaned and handed him his notebook.

He thanked you and took his due. When he was gone, you glanced at Jotaro and you both shared intense empathy and regret.

Don't steal Kakyoin's notebook.

Oh man, wouldn't it be fun and also a bit sad if after Dio was defeated, Y/N and Jotaro became a couple?

You walked by the river, holding hands with Jotaro after a long week of finals. You suddenly stopped in your tracks and looked at the water reflecting the orange sunset.

Jotaro looked at you confused, but followed your gaze, until both of you laid eyes on a young girl painting the scenery on a canvas.

"You know... He would have loved this..." You started softly, a melancholic look cast on the girl as her Stand posed on the grass like a model, thinking herself only could see it. "To see us together, I mean..."

Jotaro inspected the girl, her red curls and green uniform moving messily in the wind. "Did he ever write something about us watching him paint?"

You chuckled sadly. "Why didn't he think of that? His stories were great, but he was in none of them..."

Jotaro noticed you biting your lip as your voice wavered slightly and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. You laid your head on his arm and he responded by bringing you closer to him.

"But now he is."

OKAY AUTHOR OUT

[montrealmadison]

drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here. 

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries. 

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know? 

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means. 

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special. 

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who  bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

[hideyseek]

11.21.2022

ok SO nano uh. continues. occasionally. i definitely got distracted by goncharov!posting earlier today and it was genuinely weird mentally to sit down and be coming up with meta that had like, an actual fucking canon associated with it lol.

but!!!! today i tried writing on my phone (by which i mean. i took a nap after work, woke up thinking about this fic, and bashed out my wordcount for the day) and it went well! i think this is my favorite and most hm... grounded description of a character having a panic attack that i have ever written. i am VERY pleased with it. i am giving haiji SO MUCH trauma i simply. pour it on him gently and lovingly! sorry man.

but oh god! it's almost done! i've decided that actually for my brain i would rather hit the wordcount all in new draft material (limiting by "stage" of writing) rather than limiting by how much of the fic i touch on (and moving to revising some previous draft material that goes in this first arc). so today's bit is from post-aotake return, post-party, so a few scenes past where i think the first arc "ends" (or like, idk, where maybe some of the things opened in the first arc are resolved). anyway i am simply keeping in mind good advice i got from dorian which boils down to: well if you simply gave it some time and then reread it, you WOULD have the reader experience! astutely put and yeah i have already forgotten what i wrote earlier this month so, very effective as a reminder for me

but today i feel FINE and even OPTIMISTIC and HOPEFUL about the writing i did! this is WILD. i will say i am once again writing this post a few hours after the writing actually happened and that sure does seem to make a big difference to how i mentally perceive what i did

wow i love to observe patterns.

[the-hunchback-of-notre-dame]

‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ at 25: An Oral History of Disney’s Darkest Animated Classic

Posted on Slashfilm on Monday, June 21st, 2021 by Josh Spiegel

“This Is Going to Change Your Life”

The future directors of The Hunchback of Notre Dame were riding high from the success of Beauty and the Beast. Or, at least, they were happy to be finished.

Gary Trousdale, director: After Beauty and the Beast, I was exhausted. Plus, Kirk and I were not entirely trusted at first, because we were novices. I was looking forward to going back to drawing.

Kirk Wise, director: It was this crazy, wonderful roller-coaster ride. I had all this vacation time and I took a couple months off.

Gary Trousdale: A little later, it was suggested: “If you want to get back into directing, start looking for a project. You can’t sit around doing nothing.”

Kirk Wise: [Songwriters] Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty had a pitch called Song of the Sea, a loose retelling of the Orpheus myth with humpback whales. I thought it was very strong.

Gary Trousdale: We were a few months in, and there was artwork and a rough draft. There were a couple tentative songs, and we were getting a head of steam.

Kirk Wise: The phone rang. It was Jeffrey [Katzenberg, then-chairman of Walt Disney Studios], saying, “Drop everything. I got your next picture: The Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

Gary Trousdale: “I’ve already got Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz. You’re going to do this.” It wasn’t like we were given a choice. It was, “Here’s the project. You’re on.”

Kirk Wise: I was pleased that [Jeffrey] was so excited about it. I think the success of Beauty and the Beast had a lot to do with him pushing it our way. It would’ve been crazy to say no.

Gary Trousdale: What [Kirk and I] didn’t know is that Alan and Stephen were being used as bait for us. And Jeffrey was playing us as bait for Alan and Stephen.

Alan Menken, composer: Jeffrey made reference to it being Michael Eisner’s passion project, which implied he was less enthused about it as a story source for an animated picture.

Stephen Schwartz, lyricist: They had two ideas. One was an adaptation of Hunchback and the other was about whales. We chose Hunchback. I’d seen the [Charles Laughton] movie. Then I read the novel and really liked it.

Peter Schneider, president of Disney Feature Animation (1985-99): I think what attracted Stephen was the darkness. One’s lust for something and one’s power and vengeance, and this poor, helpless fellow, Quasimodo.

Roy Conli, co-producer: I was working at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles, doing new play development. I was asked if I’d thought about producing animation. I said, “Yeah, sure.”

Don Hahn, producer: The goose had laid lots of golden eggs. The studio was trying to create two units so they could have multiple films come out. Roy was tasked with something hard, to build a crew out of whole cloth.

Kirk Wise: The idea appealed to me because [of] the setting and main character. I worked with an elder story man, Joe Grant, [who] goes back to Snow White. He said, “Some of the best animation ideas are about a little guy with a big problem.” Hunchback fit that bill.

Gary Trousdale: It’s a story I always liked. When Jeffrey said, “This is going to change your life,” Kirk and I said, “Cool.” When I was a kid, I [had an] Aurora Monster Model of Quasimodo lashed to the wheel. I thought, “He’s not a monster.”

Don Hahn: It’s a great piece of literature and it had a lot of elements I liked. The underdog hero. [He] was not a handsome prince. I loved the potential.

Gary Trousdale: We thought, “What are we going to do to make this dark piece of literature into a Disney cartoon without screwing it up?”

Peter Schneider: The subject matter is very difficult. The conflict was how far to go with it or not go with it. This is basically [about] a pederast who says “Fuck me or you’ll die.” Right?

“We Were Able to Take More Chances”

Wise and Trousdale recruited a group of disparate artists from the States and beyond to bring the story of Quasimodo the bell-ringer to animated life.

Paul Brizzi, sequence director: We were freshly arrived from Paris.

Gaëtan Brizzi, sequence director: [The filmmakers] were looking for a great dramatic prologue, and they couldn’t figure [it] out. Paul and I spent the better part of the night conceiving this prologue. They said, “You have to storyboard it. We love it.”

Roy Conli: We had two amazing artists in Paul and Gaëtan Brizzi who became spiritual leaders in the production. They were so incredible.

Gaëtan Brizzi: [“The Bells of Notre Dame”] was not supposed to be a song first.

Paul Brizzi: The prologue was traditional in the Disney way. Gaëtan and I were thinking of German expressionism to emphasize the drama. I’m not sure we could do that today.

Paul Kandel, voice of Clopin: They were toying with Clopin being the narrator. So they wrote “The Bells of Notre Dame” to open the movie.

Stephen Schwartz: [Alan and I] got called into a presentation, and on all these boards [was] laid out “The Bells of Notre Dame.” We musicalized the story they put up there. We used the pieces of dialogue they invented for Frollo and the other characters. I wrote lyrics that described the narrative. It was very exciting. I had never written a song like that.

Kirk Wise: Early on, we [took] a research trip with the core creative team to Paris. We spent two weeks all over Notre Dame. They gave us unrestricted access, going down into the catacombs. That was a huge inspiration.

Don Hahn: To crawl up in the bell towers and imagine Quasimodo there, to see the bells and the timbers, the scale of it all is unbelievable.

Kirk Wise: One morning, I was listening to this pipe organ in this shadowy cathedral, with light filtering through the stained-glass windows. The sound was so powerful, I could feel it thudding in my chest. I thought, “This is what the movie needs to feel like.”

Brenda Chapman, story: It was fun to sit in a room and draw and think up stuff. I liked the idea of this lonely character up in a bell tower and how we could portray his imagination.

Kathy Zielinski, supervising animator, Frollo: It was the earliest I’ve ever started on a production. I was doing character designs for months. I did a lot of design work for the gargoyles, as a springboard for the other supervisors.

James Baxter, supervising animator, Quasimodo: Kirk and Gary said, “We’d like you to do Quasimodo.” [I thought] that would be such a cool, amazing thing to do. They wanted this innocent vibe to him. Part of the design process was getting that part of his character to read.

Will Finn, head of story/supervising animator, Laverne: Kirk and Gary wanted me on the project. Kirk, Gary, and Don Hahn gave me opportunities no one else would have, and I am forever grateful.

Kathy Zielinski: I spent several months doing 50 or 60 designs [for Frollo]. I looked at villainous actors. Actually, one was Peter Schneider. [laughing] Not to say he’s a villain, but a lot of the mannerisms and poses. “Oh, that looks a little like Peter.”

James Baxter: I was doing design work on the characters with Tony Fucile, the animator on Esmerelda. I think Kirk and Gary felt Beauty and the Beast had been disparate and the characters weren’t as unified as they wanted.

Kathy Zielinski: Frollo stemmed from Hans Conried [the voice of Disney’s Captain Hook]. He had a longish nose and a very stern-looking face. Frollo was modeled a little bit after him.

Will Finn: The team they put together was a powerhouse group – Brenda Chapman, Kevin Harkey, Ed Gombert, and veterans like Burny Mattinson and Vance Gerry. I felt funny being their “supervisor.”

Kathy Zielinski: Half my crew was in France, eight hours ahead. We were able to do phone calls. But because of the time difference, our end of the day was their beginning of the morning. I was working a lot of late hours, because [Frollo] was challenging to draw.

Kirk Wise: Our secret weapon was James Baxter, who animated the ballroom sequence [in Beauty and the Beast] on his own. He had a unique gift of rotating characters in three-dimensional space perfectly.

Gary Trousdale: James Baxter is, to my mind, one of the greatest living animators in the world.

James Baxter: I’ve always enjoyed doing things that were quite elaborate in terms of camera movement and three-dimensional space. I’m a glutton for punishment, because those shots are very hard to do.

Gary Trousdale: In the scene with Quasimodo carrying Esmeralda over his shoulder, climbing up the cathedral, he looks back under his arms, snarling at the crowd below. James called that his King Kong moment.

As production continued, Roy Conli’s position shifted, as Don Hahn joined the project, and Jeffrey Katzenberg left Disney in heated fashion in 1994.

Roy Conli: Jeffrey was going to create his own animation studio. Peter Schneider was interested in maintaining a relationship with Don Hahn. We were into animation, ahead of schedule. They asked Don if he would produce and if I would run the studio in Paris.

Don Hahn: Roy hadn’t done an animated film before. I was able to be a more senior presence. I’d worked with Kirk and Gary before, which I enjoy. They’re unsung heroes of these movies.

Kirk Wise: The [production] pace was more leisurely. As leisurely as these things can be. We had more breathing room to develop the storyboards and the script and the songs.

Gary Trousdale: Jeffrey never liked characters to have facial hair. No beards, no mustaches, nothing. There’s original designs of Gaston [with] a little Errol Flynn mustache. Jeffrey hated it. “I don’t want any facial hair.” Once he left, we were like, “We could give [Phoebus] a beard now.”

Kirk Wise: The ballroom sequence [in Beauty] gave us confidence to incorporate more computer graphics into Hunchback. We [had] to create the illusion of a throng of thousands of cheering people. To do it by hand would have been prohibitive, and look cheap.

Stephen Schwartz: Michael Eisner started being more hands-on. Michael was annoyed at me for a while, because when Jeffrey left, I accepted the job of doing the score for Prince of Egypt. I got fired from Mulan because of it. But once he fired me, Michael couldn’t have been a more supportive, positive colleague on Hunchback.

Kirk Wise: [The executives] were distracted. We were able to take more chances than we would have under the circumstances that we made Beauty and the Beast.

Don Hahn: Hunchback was in a league of its own, feeling like we [could] step out and take some creative risks. We could have done princess movies forever, and been reasonably successful. Our long-term survival relied on trying those risks.

One sticking point revolved around Notre Dame’s gargoyles, three of whom interact with Quasimodo, but feel more lighthearted than the rest of the dark story.

Gary Trousdale: In the book and several of the movies, Quasimodo talks to the gargoyles. We thought, “This is Disney, we’re doing a cartoon. The gargoyles can talk back.” One thing led to another and we’ve got “A Guy Like You.”

Kirk Wise: “A Guy Like You” was literally created so we could lighten the mood so the audience wasn’t sitting in this trough of despair for so long.

Stephen Schwartz: Out of context, the number is pretty good. I think I wrote some funny lyrics. But ultimately it was a step too far tonally for the movie and it has been dropped from the stage version.

Gary Trousdale: People have been asking for a long time: are they real? Are they part of Quasimodo’s personality? There were discussions that maybe Quasimodo is schizophrenic. We never definitively answered it, and can argue convincingly both ways.

Jason Alexander, voice of Hugo: I wouldn’t dream of interfering with anyone’s choice on that. It’s ambiguous for a reason and part of that reason is the viewers’ participation in the answer. Whatever you believe about it, I’m going to say you’re right.

Brenda Chapman: I left before they landed on how [to play] the gargoyles. My concern was, what are the rules? Are they real? Are they in his imagination? What can they do? Can they do stuff or is it all Quasi? I looked at it a little askance in the finished film. I wasn’t sure if I liked how it ended up…[Laverne] with the boa on the piano.

Kirk Wise: There was a component of the audience that felt the gargoyles were incompatible with Hunchback. But all of Disney’s movies, including the darkest ones, have comic-relief characters. And Disney was the last person to treat the written word as gospel.

“A Fantastic Opportunity”

After a successful collaboration on Pocahontas, Menken and Schwartz worked on turning Victor Hugo’s tragic story into a musical.

Alan Menken: The world of the story was very appealing, and it had so much social relevance and cultural nuance.

Stephen Schwartz: The story lent itself quite well to musicalization because of the extremity of the characters and the emotions. There was a lot to sing about. There was a great milieu.

Alan Menken: To embed the liturgy of the Catholic Church into a piece of music that’s operatic and also classical and pop-oriented enriches it in a very original way. Stephen was amazing. He would take the theme from the story and specifically set it in Latin to that music.

Stephen Schwartz: The fact that we were doing a piece set in a church allowed us to use all those elements of the Catholic mass, and for Alan to do all that wonderful choral music.

Alan Menken: The first creative impulse was “Out There.” I’m a craftsman. I’m working towards a specific assignment, but that was a rare instance where that piece of music existed.

Stephen Schwartz: I would come in with a title, maybe a couple of lines for Alan to be inspired by. We would talk about the whole unit, its job from a storytelling point of view. He would write some music. I could say, “I liked that. Let’s follow that.” He’d push a button and there would be a sloppy printout, enough that I could play it as I was starting the lyrics.

Roy Conli: Stephen’s lyrics are absolutely phenomenal. With that as a guiding light, we were in really good shape.

Stephen Schwartz: Alan played [the “Out There” theme] for me, and I really liked it. I asked for one change in the original chorus. Other than that, the music was exactly as he gave it to me.

Gary Trousdale: Talking with these guys about music is always intimidating. There was one [lyric] Don and I both questioned in “Out There,” when Frollo is singing, “Why invite their calumny and consternation?” Don and I went, “Calumny?” Kirk said, “Nope, it’s OK, I saw it in an X-Men comic book.” I went, “All right! It’s in a comic book! It’s good.”

Stephen Schwartz: Disney made it possible for me to get into Notre Dame before it opened to the public. I’d climb up the steps to the bell tower. I’d sit there with my yellow pad and pencil. I’d have the tune for “Out There” in my head, and I would look out at Paris, and be Quasimodo. By the time we left Paris, the song was written.

Kirk Wise: Stephen’s lyrics are really smart and literate. I don’t think the comical stuff was necessarily [his] strongest area. But this movie was a perfect fit, because the power of the emotions were so strong. Stephen just has a natural ability to connect with that.

Will Finn: The directors wanted a funny song for the gargoyles and Stephen was not eager to write it. He came to me and Irene Mecchi and asked us to help him think of comedy ideas for “A Guy Like You,” and we pitched a bunch of gags.

Jason Alexander: Singing with an orchestra the likes of which Alan and Stephen and Disney can assemble is nirvana. It’s electrifying and gives you the boost to sing over and over. Fortunately, everyone was open to discovery. I love nuance and intention in interpretation. I was given wonderful freedom to find both.

Stephen Schwartz: “Topsy Turvy,” it’s one of those numbers of musical theater where you can accomplish an enormous amount of storytelling. If you didn’t have that, you’d feel you were drowning in exposition. When you put it in the context of the celebration of the Feast of Fools, you could get a lot of work done.

Paul Kandel: The first time I sang [“Topsy Turvy”] through, I got a little applause from the orchestra. That was a very nice thing to happen and calm me down a little bit.

Brenda Chapman: Poor Kevin Harkey must’ve worked on “Topsy Turvy” for over a year. Just hearing [singing] “Topsy turvy!” I thought, “I would shoot myself.” It’s a fun song, but to listen to that, that many times. I don’t know if he ever got to work on anything else.

Paul Kandel: There were places where I thought the music was squarer than it needed to be. I wanted to round it out because Clopin is unpredictable. Is he good? Is he bad? That’s what I was trying to edge in there.

Kirk Wise: “God Help the Outcasts” made Jeffrey restless. I think he wanted “Memory” from Cats. Alan and Stephen wrote “Someday.” Jeffrey said, “This is good, but it needs to be bigger!” Alan was sitting at his piano bench, and Jeffrey was next to him. Jeffrey said, “When I want it bigger, I’ll nudge you.” Alan started playing and Jeffrey was jabbing him in the ribs. “Bigger, bigger!”

Don Hahn: In terms of what told the story better, one song was poetic, but the other was specific. “Outcasts” was very specific about Quasimodo. “Someday” was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

Kirk Wise: When Don watched the movie, he said, “It’s working pretty well. But ‘Someday,’ I don’t know. It feels like she’s yelling at God.” We played “God Help the Outcasts” for him and Don said, “Oh, this is perfect.” That song is the signature of the entire movie.

Don Hahn: “Someday” was lovely. But I had come off of working with Howard Ashman, and I felt, “This doesn’t move the plot forward much, does it?” We ended up with “Someday” as an end-credits song, which was fortunate. ‘Cause they’re both good songs.

Kirk Wise: It was all about what conveys the emotion of the scene and the central theme of the movie best. “God Help the Outcasts” did that.

Everyone agrees on one point.

Stephen Schwartz: Hunchback is Alan’s best score. And that’s saying a lot, because he’s written a whole bunch of really good ones.

Gary Trousdale: With Hunchback, there were a couple of people that said, “This is why I chose music as a career.” Alan and Stephen’s songs are so amazing, so that’s really something.

Paul Kandel: It has a beautiful score.

Jason Alexander: It has the singularly most sophisticated score of most of the animated films of that era.

Roy Conli: The score of Hunchback is one of the greatest we’ve done.

Don Hahn: This is Alan’s most brilliant score. The amount of gravitas Alan put in the score is amazing.

Alan Menken: It’s the most ambitious score I’ve ever written. It has emotional depth. It’s a different assignment. And it was the project where awards stopped happening. It’s almost like, “OK, now you’ve gone too far.”

Stephen Schwartz: It’s astonishing that Alan has won about 173 Academy Awards, and the one score he did not win for is his best score.

The film featured marquee performers singing covers of “God Help the Outcasts” and “Someday”. But one of the most famous performers ever nearly brought those songs to life.

Alan Menken: I met Michael Jackson when we were looking for someone to sing “A Whole New World” for Aladdin. Michael wanted to co-write the song. I could get a sense of who Michael was. He was a very unique, interesting individual…in his own world.

I get a call out of nowhere from Michael’s assistant, when Michael was at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York. He had to [deal with] allegations about inappropriate behavior with underage kids, and the breakup with Lisa Marie Presley. He’s looking to change the subject. And he obviously loves Disney so much. So I mentioned Hunchback. He said he’d love to come to my studio, watch the movie and talk about it. So we got in touch with Disney Animation. They said, “Meet with him! If he likes it…well, see what he says.” [laughing]

There’s three songs. One was “Out There,” one was “God Help the Outcasts,” one was “Someday.” Michael said, “I would like to produce the songs and record some of them.” Wow. Okay. What do we do now? Michael left. We got in touch with Disney. It was like somebody dropped a hot poker into a fragile bowl with explosives. “Uh, we’ll get back to you about that.”

Finally, predictably, the word came back, “Disney doesn’t want to do this with Michael Jackson.” I go, “OK, could someone tell him this?” You can hear a pin drop, no response, and nobody did [tell him]. It fell to my late manager, Scott Shukat, to tell Michael or Michael’s attorney.

In retrospect, it was the right decision. [But] Quasimodo is a character…if you look at his relationships with his family and his father, I would think there’s a lot of identification there.

“They’re Never Going to Do This Kind of Character Again”

The film is known for the way it grapples with the hypocrisy and lust typified by the villainous Judge Frollo, whose terrifying song “Hellfire” remains a high point of Disney animation.

Gary Trousdale: Somebody asked me recently: “How the hell did you get ‘Hellfire’ past Disney?” It’s a good question.

Alan Menken: When Stephen and I wrote “Hellfire,” I was so excited by what we accomplished. It really raised the bar for Disney animation. It raised the bar for Stephen’s and my collaboration.

Stephen Schwartz: I thought the would never let me get away with [“Hellfire”]. And they never asked for a single change.

Alan Menken: Lust and religious conflict. Now more than ever, these are very thorny issues to put in front of the Disney audience. We wanted to go at it as truthfully as possible.

Stephen Schwartz: When Alan and I tackled “Hellfire,” I did what I usually did: write what I thought it should be and assume that [Disney would] tell me what I couldn’t get away with. But they accepted exactly what we wrote.

Don Hahn: Every good song score needs a villain’s moment. Stephen and Alan approached it with “Hellfire.”

Alan Menken: It was very clear, we’d thrown the gauntlet pretty far. It was also clear within our creative team that everybody was excited about going there.

Don Hahn: You use all the tools in your toolkit, and one of the most powerful ones was Alan and Stephen. Stephen can be dark, but he’s also very funny. He’s brilliant.

Gary Trousdale: The [MPAA] said, “When Frollo says ‘This burning desire is turning me to sin,’ we don’t like the word ‘sin.’” We can’t change the lyrics now. It’s all recorded. Kinda tough. “What if we just dip the volume of the word ‘sin’ and increase the sound effects?” They said, “Good.”

Stephen Schwartz: It’s one of the most admirable things [laughs] I have ever seen Disney Animation do. It was very supportive and adventurous, which is a spirit that…let’s just say, I don’t think [the company would] make this movie today.

Don Hahn: It’s funny. Violence is far more accepted than sex in a family movie. You can go see a Star Wars movie and the body count’s pretty huge, but there’s rarely any sexual innuendo.

Kathy Zielinski: I got to watch [Tony Jay] record “Hellfire” with another actor. I was sweating watching him record, because it was unbelievably intense. Afterwards, he asked me, “Did you learn anything from my performance?” I said, “Yeah, I never want to be a singer.” [laughing]

Paul Kandel: Tony Jay knocked that out of the park. He [was] an incredible guy. Very sweet. He was terrified to record “Hellfire.” He was at a couple of my sessions. He went, “Oh my God, what’s going to happen when it’s my turn? I don’t sing. I’m not a singer. I never pretended to be a singer.” I said, “Look, I’m not a singer. I’m an actor who figured out that they could hold a tune.”

Kathy Zielinski: I listened to Tony sing “Hellfire” tons. I knew I had gone too far when, one morning, we were sitting at the breakfast table and my daughter, who was two or three at the time, started singing the song and doing the mannerisms. [laughs]

Don Hahn: We didn’t literally want to show [Frollo’s lust]. It turns into a Fantasia sequence, almost. A lot of the imagery is something you could see coming out of Frollo’s imagination. It’s very impressionistic. It does stretch the boundaries of what had been done before at Disney.

Kirk Wise: We stylized it like “Night on Bald Mountain.” The best of Walt’s films balanced very dark and light elements. Instead of making it explicit, we tried to make it more visual and use symbolic imagery.

Gaëtan Brizzi: We were totally free. We could show symbolically how sick Frollo is between his hate and his carnal desire.

Kathy Zielinski: The storyboards had a tremendous influence. Everybody was incredibly admiring of the work that [Paul and Gaëtan] had done.

Don Hahn: They brought the storyboarded sequence to life in a way that is exactly what the movie looks like. The strength of it is that we didn’t have to show anything as much as we did suggest things to the audience. Give the audience credit for filling in the blanks.

Gary Trousdale: It was absolutely gorgeous. Their draftsmanship and their cinematography. They are the top. They pitched it with a cassette recording of Stephen singing “Hellfire”, and we were all in the story room watching it, going “Oh shit!”

Paul Brizzi: When Frollo is at the fireplace with Esmeralda’s scarf, his face is hypnotized. From the smoke, there’s the silhouette of Esmeralda coming to him. She’s naked in our drawings.

Gary Trousdale: We joked, maybe because they’re French, Esmeralda was in the nude when she was in the fire. Roy Disney put his foot down and said, “That’s not going to happen.” Chris Jenkins, the head of effects, and I went over every drawing to make sure she was appropriately attired. That was the one concession we made to the studio.

Gaëtan Brizzi: It’s the role of storyboard artists to go far, and then you scale it down. Her body was meant to be suggestive. It was more poetic than provocative.

Brenda Chapman: I thought what the Brizzis did with “Hellfire” was just stunning.

Roy Conli: We make films for people from four to 104, and we’re trying to ensure that the thematic material engages adults and engages children. We had a lot of conversations on “Hellfire,” [which] was groundbreaking. You saw the torment, but you didn’t necessarily, if you were a kid, read it as sexual. And if you were an adult, you picked it up pretty well.

Will Finn: “Hellfire” was uncomfortable to watch with a family audience. I’m not a prude, but what are small kids to make of such a scene?

Kathy Zielinski: When I was working on “Hellfire,” I thought, “Wow. They’re never going to do this kind of character again.” And I’m pretty much right.

“Straight for the Heart”

“Hellfire” may be the apex of the maturity of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but the entire film is the most complex and adult Disney animated feature of the modern era.

Gary Trousdale: We went straight for the heart and then pulled back.

Kirk Wise: I was comfortable with moments of broad comedy contrasted with moments that were dark or scary or violent. All of the Disney movies did that, particularly in Walt’s time.

Don Hahn: A lot of it is gut level, where [the story group would] sit around and talk to ourselves and pitch it to executives. But Walt Disney’s original animated films were really dark. We wanted to create something that had the impact of what animation can do.

Will Finn: Eisner insisted we follow the book to the letter, but he said the villain could not be a priest, and we had to have a happy ending. The book is an epic tragedy – everybody dies!

Kathy Zielinski: It’s a little scary that I felt comfortable with [Frollo]. [laughing] I don’t know what that means. Maybe I need to go to therapy. I’ve always had a desire to do villains. I just love evil.

Don Hahn: Kathy Zielinski is brilliant. She works on The Simpsons now, which is hilarious. She’s very intense, very aware of what [Frollo] had to do.

One specific choice in the relationship between Frollo and Esmeralda caused problems.

Stephen Schwartz: I remember there was great controversy over Frollo sniffing Esmeralda’s hair.

Kirk Wise: The scene that caused the most consternation was in the cathedral where Frollo grabs Esmeralda, whispers in her ear and sniffs her hair. The sniffing made people ask, “Is this too far?” We got a lot of support from Peter Schneider, Tom Schumacher, and Michael Eisner.

Kathy Zielinski: Brenda Chapman came up with that idea and the storyboard. I animated it. It’s interesting, because two females were responsible for that. That scene was problematic, so they had to cut it down. It used to be a lot longer.

Brenda Chapman: I know I’m probably pushing it too far, but let’s give it a go, you know?

Kirk Wise: We agreed it was going to be a matter of execution and our collective gut would tell us whether we were crossing the line. We learned that the difference between a G and PG is the loudness of a sniff. Ultimately, that’s what it came down to.

Brenda Chapman: I never knew that! [laughing]

Don Hahn: Is it rated G? That’s surprising.

Gary Trousdale: I’m sure there was backroom bargaining done that Kirk and I didn’t know about.

Don Hahn: It’s negotiation. The same was true of The Lion King. We had intensity notes on the fight at the end. You either say, we’re going to live with that and it’s PG, or we’re not and it’s G.

Brenda Chapman: I heard stories of little kids going, “Ewww, he’s rubbing his boogers in her hair!” [laughing] If that’s what they want to think, that’s fine. But there are plenty of adults that went, “Whoa!”

Don Hahn: You make the movies for yourselves, [but] we all have families, and you try to make something that’s appropriate for that audience. So we made some changes. Frollo isn’t a member of the clergy to take out any politicizing.

Gaëtan Brizzi: We developed the idea of Frollo’s racism against the gypsies. To feel that he desires Esmeralda and he wants to kill her. It was ambiguity that was interesting to develop. In the storyboards, Paul made [Frollo] handsome with a big jaw, a guy with class. They said he was too handsome. We had to break that formula.

Stephen Schwartz: I [and others] said, “It doesn’t make any sense for him to not be the Archdeacon, because what’s he doing with Quasimodo? What possible relationship could they have?” Which is what led to the backstory that became “The Bells of Notre Dame.”

Don Hahn: The things Frollo represents are alive and well in the world. Bigotry and prejudice are human traits and always have been. One of his traits was lust. How do you portray that in a Disney movie? We tried to portray that in a way that might be over kids’ heads and may not give them nightmares necessarily, but it’s not going to pull its punches. So it was a fine line.

Stephen Schwartz: Hugo’s novel is not critical of the church the way a lot of French literature is. It creates this character of Frollo, who’s a deeply hypocritical person and tormented by his hypocrisy.

Peter Schneider: I am going to be controversial. I think it failed. The fundamental basis is problematic, if you’re going to try and do a Disney movie. In [light of] the #MeToo movement, you couldn’t still do the movie and try what we tried to do. As much as we tried to soften it, you couldn’t get away from the fundamental darkness.

Don Hahn: Yeah, that sounds like Peter. He’s always the contrarian.

Peter Schneider: I’m not sure we should have made the movie, in retrospect. I mean, it did well, Kirk and Gary did a beautiful job. The voices are beautiful. The songs are lovely, but I’m not sure we should have made the movie.

Gaëtan Brizzi: The hardest part was to stick to the commercial side of the movie…to make sure we were still addressing kids.

Kirk Wise: We knew it was going to be a challenge to honor the source material while delivering a movie that would fit comfortably on the shelf with the other Disney musicals. We embraced it.

Roy Conli: I don’t think it was too mature. I do find it at times slightly provocative, but not in a judgmental or negative way. I stand by the film 100 percent in sending a message of hope.

Peter Schneider: It never settled its tone. If you look at the gargoyles and bringing in Jason Alexander to try and give comedy to this rather bleak story of a judge keeping a deformed young man in the tower…there’s so many icky factors for a Disney movie.

Jason Alexander: Some children might be frightened by Quasi’s look or not be able to understand the complexity. But what we see is an honest, innocent and capable underdog confront his obstacles and naysayers and emerge triumphant, seen and accepted. I think young people rally to those stories. They can handle the fearsome and celebrate the good.

Brenda Chapman: There was a scene where Frollo was locking Quasimodo in the tower, and Quasi was quite upset. I had to pull back from how cruel Frollo was in that moment, if I’m remembering correctly. I wanted to make him a very human monster, which can be scarier than a real monster.

Roy Conli: We walked such a tight line and we were on the edge and the fact that Disney allowed us to be on the edge was a huge tribute to them.

“Hear the Voice”

The story was set, the songs were ready. All that was left was getting a cast together to bring the characters’ voices to life.

Jason Alexander: Disney, Alan Menken, Stephen Schwartz, Victor Hugo – you had me at hello.

Paul Kandel: I was in Tommy, on Broadway. I was also a Tony nominee. So I had those prerequisites. Then I got a call from my agent that Jeffrey Katzenberg decided he wanted a star. I was out of a job I already had. I said, “I want to go back in and audition again.” I wanted to let them choose between me and whoever had a name that would help sell the film. So that series of auditions went on and I got the job back.

Kirk Wise: Everybody auditioned, with the exception of Kevin Kline and Demi Moore. We went to them with an offer. But we had a few people come in for Quasimodo, including Meat Loaf.

Will Finn: Katzenberg saw Meat Loaf and Cher playing Quasimodo and Esmeralda – more of a rock opera. He also wanted Leno, Letterman, and Arsenio as the gargoyles at one point.

Kirk Wise: Meat Loaf sat with Alan and rehearsed the song. It was very different than what we ended up with, because Meat Loaf has a very distinct sound. Ultimately, I think his record company and Disney couldn’t play nice together, and the deal fell apart.

Gary Trousdale: We all had the drawings of the characters we were currently casting for in front of us. Instead of watching the actor, we’d be looking down at the piece of paper, trying to hear that voice come out of the drawing. And it was, we learned, a little disconcerting for some of the actors and actresses, who would put on hair and makeup and clothes and they’ve got their body language and expressions. We just want to hear the voice.

Kirk Wise: We cast Cyndi Lauper as one of the gargoyles. We thought she was hilarious and sweet. The little fat obnoxious gargoyle had a different name, and was going to be played by Sam McMurray. We had Cyndi and Sam record, and Roy Disney hated it. The quality of Cyndi’s voice and Sam’s voice were extremely grating to his ear. This is no disrespect to them – Cyndi Lauper is amazing. And Sam McMurray is very funny. But it was not working for the people in the room on that day.

Jason Alexander: The authors cast you for a reason – they think they’ve heard a voice in you that fits their character. I always try to look at the image of the character – his shape, his size, his energy and start to allow sounds, pitches, vocal tics to emerge. Then everyone kicks that around, nudging here, tweaking there and within a few minutes you have the approach to the vocalization. It’s not usually a long process, but it is fun.

Kirk Wise: We decided to reconceive the gargoyles. We always knew we wanted three of them. We wanted a Laurel and Hardy pair. The third gargoyle, the female gargoyle, was up in the air. I think it was Will Finn who said, “Why don’t we make her older?” As the wisdom-keeper. That led us to Mary Wickes, who was absolutely terrific. We thoroughly enjoyed working with Mary, and 98% of the dialogue is her. But she sadly passed away before we were finished.

Will Finn: We brought in a ton of voice-over actresses and none sounded like Mary. One night, I woke up thinking about Jane Withers, who had been a character actress in the golden age of Hollywood. She had a similar twang in her voice, and very luckily, she was alive and well.

Kirk Wise: Our first session with Kevin Kline went OK, but something was missing. It just didn’t feel like there was enough of a twinkle in his voice. Roy Conli said, “Guys, he’s an actor. Give him a prop.” For the next session, the supervising animator for Phoebus brought in a medieval broadsword. Before the session started, we said “Kevin, we’ve got a present for you.” We brought out this sword, and he lit up like a kid at Christmas. He would gesture with it and lean on it. Roy found the key there.

Gary Trousdale: Kevin Kline is naturally funny, so we may have [written] some funnier lines for him. When he’s sparring with Esmeralda in the cathedral and he gets hit by the goat. “I didn’t know you had a kid,” which is the worst line ever. But he pulls it off. He had good comic timing.

Kirk Wise: Tom Hulce had a terrific body of work, including Amadeus. But the performance that stuck with me was in Dominic and Eugene. There was a sensitivity and emotional reality to that performance that made us lean in and think he might make a good Quasimodo.

Gary Trousdale: [His voice] had a nice mix of youthful and adult. He had a maturity, but he had an innocence as well. We’re picturing Quasimodo as a guy who’s basically an innocent. It was a quality of his voice that we could hear.

Don Hahn: He’s one of those actors who could perform and act while he sang. Solo songs, especially for Quasimodo, are monologues set to music. So you’re looking for someone who can portray all the emotion of the scene. It’s about performance and storytelling, and creating a character while you’re singing. That’s why Tom rose to the top.

Stephen Schwartz: I thought Tom did great. I had known Tom a little bit beforehand, as an actor in New York. I’d seen him do Equus and I was sort of surprised. I just knew him as an actor in straight plays. I didn’t know that he sang at all, and then it turned out that he really sang.

Paul Kandel: [Tom] didn’t think of himself as a singer. He’s an actor who can sing. “Out There,” his big number – whether he’s going to admit it to you or not – that was scary for him. But a beautiful job.

Brenda Chapman: Quasimodo was the key to make it family-friendly. Tom Hulce did such a great job making him appealing.

Kirk Wise: Gary came back with the audiotape of Tom’s first session. And his first appearance with the little bird, where he asks if the bird is ready to fly…that whole scene was his rehearsal tape. His instincts were so good. He just nailed it. I think he was surprised that we went with that take. It was the least overworked and the most spontaneous, and felt emotionally real to us.

Kathy Zielinski: Early on, they wanted Anthony Hopkins to do the voice [of Frollo]. [We] did an animation test with a line of his from Silence of the Lambs.

Kirk Wise: We were thinking of Hannibal Lecter in the earliest iterations of Frollo. They made an offer, but Hopkins passed. We came full circle to Tony, because it had been such a good experience working with him on Beauty and the Beast. It was the combination of the quality of his voice, the familiarity of working with him, and knowing how professional and sharp he was.

Though the role of Quasimodo went to Tom Hulce (who did not respond to multiple requests for comment), there was one audition those involved haven’t forgotten.

Kirk Wise: We had a few people come in for Quasimodo, including Mandy Patinkin.

Stephen Schwartz: That was a difficult day. [laughing]

Kirk Wise: Mandy informed Alan and Stephen that he brought his own accompanist, which was unexpected because we had one in the room. He had taken a few liberties with [“Out There”]. He had done a little rearranging. You could see Alan’s and Stephen’s spines stiffen. It was not the feel that Alan and Stephen were going for. Stephen pretty much said so in the room. I think his words were a little sharper and more pointed than mine.

Stephen Schwartz: I’ve never worked with Mandy Patinkin. But I admired Evita and Sunday in the Park with George. He came in to audition for Quasimodo. When I came in, Ben Vereen was sitting in the hallway. Ben is a friend of mine and kind of a giant star. I felt we should be polite in terms of bringing him in relatively close to the time for which he was called.

Mandy took a long time with his audition, and asked to do it over and over again. If you’re Mandy Patinkin, you should have enough time scheduled to feel you were able to show what you wanted to show. However, that amount of time was not scheduled. At a certain point, I became a bit agitated because I knew Ben was sitting there, cooling his heels. I remember asking [to] move along or something. That created a huge contretemps.

Kirk Wise: Gary and I stepped outside to work on a dialogue scene with Mandy. As we were explaining the scene and our take on the character, Mandy threw up his hands and said, “Guys, I’m really sorry. I can’t do this.” He turned on his heel and went into the rehearsal hall and shut the door. We started hearing an intense argument. He basically went in and read Alan and Stephen the riot act. The door opens, smoke issuing from the crater that he left inside. Mandy storms out, and he’s gone. We step back in the room, asking, “What the hell happened?”

Gary Trousdale: I did a drawing of it afterwards. The Patinkin Incident.

Stephen Schwartz: Battleship Patinkin!

“Join the Party”

The darkness in the film made it difficult to market. Even some involved acknowledged the issue. In the run-up to release, Jason Alexander said to Entertainment Weekly, “Disney would have us believe this movie’s like the Ringling Bros., for children of all ages. But I won’t be taking my 4-year old. I wouldn’t expose him to it, not for another year.”

Alan Menken: There was all the outrage about Jason Alexander referring to it as a dark story that’s not for kids. Probably Disney wasn’t happy he said that.

Jason Alexander: Most Disney animated films are entertaining and engaging for any child with an attention span. All of them have elements that are frightening. But people are abused in Hunchback. These are people, not cute animals. Some children could be overwhelmed by some of it at a very young age. My son at the time could not tolerate any sense of dread in movies so it would have been hard for him. However, that is certainly not all children.

Don Hahn: I don’t think Jason was wrong. People have to decide for themselves. It probably wasn’t a movie for four-year olds. You as a parent know your kid better than I do.

If everyone agrees the score is excellent, they also agree on something that was not.

Alan Menken: God knows we couldn’t control how Disney marketing dealt with the movie, which was a parade with Quasimodo on everybody’s shoulders going, “Join the party.” [laughing]

Roy Conli: I always thought “Animation comes of age” would be a great [tagline]. I think the marketing ended up, “Join the party.”

Brenda Chapman: Marketing had it as this big party. And then you get into the story and there’s all this darkness. I think audiences were not expecting that, if they didn’t know the original story.

Kathy Zielinski: It was a hard movie for Disney to merchandise and sell to the public.

Gaëtan Brizzi: People must have been totally surprised by the dramatic sequences. The advertising was not reflecting what the movie was about.

Stephen Schwartz: To this day, they just don’t know how to market “Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.” I understand what their quandary is. They have developed a brand that says, “If you see the word Disney on something, it means you can take your 6-year old.” You probably shouldn’t even take your 8-year old, unless he or she is very mature, to Hunchback.

Alan Menken: We [Disney] had such a run of successful projects. It was inevitable there was going to be a time where people said, “I’ve seen all those, but what else is out there?” I had that experience sitting at a diner with my family, overhearing a family talk about Hunchback and say, “Oh yeah, we saw Beauty and Aladdin, but this one…let’s see something else.”

Stephen Schwartz: I did have a sense that some in the critical community didn’t know how to reconcile animation and an adult approach. They have the same attitude some critics have about musicals. “It’s fine if it’s tap-dancing and about silly subjects. But if it’s something that has intellectual import, you can’t do that.” Obviously we have Hamilton and Sweeney Todd and Wicked. Over the years, that’s changed to some extent, but not for everybody.

Roy Conli: Every film is not a Lion King. [But] if that story has legs and will touch people, then you’ve succeeded.

Kirk Wise: We were a little disappointed in its initial weekend. It didn’t do as well as we hoped. We were also disappointed in the critical reaction. It was well-reviewed, but more mixed. Roger Ebert loved us. The New York Times hated us! I felt whipsawed. It was the same critic [Janet Maslin] who praised Beauty and the Beast to the high heavens. She utterly shat on Hunchback.

Don Hahn: We had really good previews, but we also knew it was out of the box creatively. We were also worried about the French and we were worried about the handicapped community and those were the two communities that supported the movie the most.

Will Finn: I knew we were in trouble when the first trailers played and audiences laughed at Quasimodo singing “Out There” on the roof.

Kirk Wise: All of us were proud of the movie on an artistic level. In terms of animation and backgrounds and music and the use of the camera and the performances. It’s the entire studio operating at its peak level of performance, as far as I’m concerned.

Gary Trousdale: I didn’t think people were going to have such a negative reaction to the gargoyles. They’re a little silly. And they do undercut the gravity. But speaking with friends who were kids at the time, they have nothing but fond memories. There were adults, high school age and older when they saw it, they were turned off. We thought it was going to do really great. We thought, “We’re topping ourselves.” It’s a sophisticated story and the music is amazing.

Kirk Wise: The 2D animated movies used to be released before Christmas [or] Thanksgiving. The Lion King changed that. Now everything was a summer release. I always questioned the wisdom of releasing Hunchback in the summertime, in competition with other blockbusters.

Paul Kandel: It made $300 million and it cost $80 million to make. So they were not hurting as far as profits were concerned. But I thought it was groundbreaking in so many ways that I was surprised at the mixed reviews.

Kirk Wise: By most measures, it was a hit. I think The Lion King spoiled everybody, because [it] was such a phenomenon, a bolt from the blue, not-to-be-repeated kind of event.

Gary Trousdale: We were getting mixed reviews. Some of them were really good. “This is a stunning masterpiece.” And other people were saying, “This is a travesty.” And the box office was coming in, not as well as hoped.

Don Hahn: I was in Argentina doing South American press. I got a call from Peter Schneider, who said, “It’s performing OK, but it’s probably going to hit 100 million.” Which, for any other moviemaker, would be a goldmine. But we’d been used to huge successes. I was disappointed.

Peter Schneider: I think it was a hit, right? It just wasn’t the same. As they say in the theater, you don’t set out to make a failure.

Don Hahn: If you’re the New York Yankees, and you’ve had a winning season where you could not lose, and then people hit standup singles instead of home runs…that’s OK. But it has this aura of disappointment. That’s the feeling that’s awful to have, because it’s selfish. Animation is an art, and the arts are meant to be without a price tag hanging off of them all the time.

Paul Brizzi: We are still grateful to Kirk and Gary and Don. We worked on [Hunchback] for maybe a year or a year and a half. Every sequence, we did with passion.

Gaëtan Brizzi: Our work on Hunchback was a triumph of our career.

Kathy Zielinski: There are certainly a whole crowd of people who wish we had not [done] the comedy, because that wasn’t faithful. That’s the main complaint I heard – we should’ve gone for this total dramatic piece and not worried about the kiddies.

Gaetan Brizzi: The only concern we had was the lack of homogeneity. The drama was really strong, and the [comedy] was sometimes a little bit goofy. It was a paradox. When you go from “Hellfire” to a big joke, the transition was not working well. Otherwise, we were very proud.

James Baxter: We were happy with what we did, but we understood it was going to be a slightly harder sell. The Hunchback of Notre Dame usually doesn’t engender connotations like, “Oh, that’s going to be a Disney classic.” I was very happy that it did as well as it did.

Jason Alexander: I thought it was even more mature and emotional on screen. It was an exciting maturation of what a Disney animated feature could be. I was impressed and touched.

“An Undersung Hero”

25 years later, The Hunchback of Notre Dame endures. The animated film inspired an even darker stage show that played both domestically and overseas, and in recent years, there have been rumors that Josh Gad would star as Quasimodo in a live-action remake.

Alan Menken: I think it’s a project that with every passing year will more and more become recognized as a really important part of my career.

Stephen Schwartz: This will be immodest, but I think it’s a really fine adaptation. I think it’s the best musical adaptation of the Victor Hugo novel, and there have been a lot. I think the music is just unbelievably good. I think, as a lyricist, I was working at pretty much the top of my form. I have so many people telling me it’s their favorite Disney film.

Alan Menken: During the pandemic, there was this hundred-piece choir doing “The Bells of Notre Dame.” People are picking up on it. It’s the combination of the storytelling and how well the score is constructed that gets it to longevity. If something is good enough, it gets found.

Paul Kandel: I think people were more sensitive. There was an expectation that a new Disney animated film would not push boundaries at all, which it did. For critics, it pushed a little too hard and I don’t think they would think that now. It’s a work of art.

Gaëtan Brizzi: Hunchback is poetic, because of its dark romanticism. We have tons of animated movies, but I think they all look alike because of the computer technique. This movie is very important in making people understand that hate has no place in our society, between a culture or people or a country. That’s the message of the movie, and of Victor Hugo himself.

Jason Alexander: I think it’s an undersung hero. It’s one of the most beautiful and moving animated films. But it is not the title that lives on everyone’s tongue. I think more people haven’t seen this one than any of the others. I adore it.

Peter Schneider: What Disney did around this period [is] we stopped making musicals. I think that was probably a mistake on some level, but the animators were bored with it.

Don Hahn: You know people reacted to Beauty and the Beast or The Lion King. They were successful movies in their day. You don’t know the reaction to anything else. So when [I] go to Comic-Con or do press on other movies, people started talking about Hunchback. “My favorite Alan Menken score is Hunchback.” It’s always surprising and delightful.

Kirk Wise: I’ve had so many people come up to me and say, “This is my absolute favorite movie. I adored this movie as a kid. I wore out my VHS.” That makes all the difference in the world.

Paul Kandel: Sitting on my desk right now are four long letters and requests for autographs. I get 20 of those a week. People are still seeing that film and being moved by it.

Alan Menken: Now there’s a discussion about a live-action film with Hunchback. And that’s [sighs] exciting and problematic. We have to, once again, wade into the troubled waters of “What is Disney’s movie version of Hunchback?” Especially now.

Jason Alexander: Live action could work because the vast majority of characters are human. The story of an actual human who is in some ways less abled and who is defined by how he looks, rather than his heart and character, is timely and important, to say the least.

Kirk Wise: I imagine if there were a live-action adaptation, it would skew more towards the stage version. That’s just my guess.

Stephen Schwartz: I think it would lend itself extremely well to a live-action movie, particularly if they use the stage show as the basis. I think the stage show is fantastic.

Kirk Wise: It’s gratifying to be involved in movies like Beauty and the Beast and Hunchback that have created so much affection. But animation is as legitimate a form of storytelling as live-action is. It might be different, but I don’t think it’s better. I feel like [saying], “Just put on the old one. It’s still good!”

Gary Trousdale: There were enough versions before. Somebody wants to make another version? Okay. Most people can tell the difference between the animated version and a live-action reboot. Mostly I’m not a fan of those. But if that’s what Disney wants to do, great.

Don Hahn: It’s very visual. It’s got huge potential because of its setting and the drama, and the music. It’s pretty powerful, so it makes sense to remake that movie. I think we will someday.

Brenda Chapman: It’s a history lesson. Now that Notre Dame is in such dire straits, after having burned so badly, hopefully [this] will increase interest in all that history.

James Baxter: It meant two children. I met my wife on that movie. [laughs] In a wider sense, the legacy is another step of broadening the scope of what Disney feature animation could be.

Kirk Wise: Hunchback is the movie where the final product turned out closest to the original vision. There was such terrific passion by the crew that carried throughout the process.

Roy Conli: It’s one of the most beautiful films we’ve made. 25 years later, I’d say “Join the party.” [laughs]

[xlostinobsessionsx]

Everything has changed | Charlie Gillespie

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x female Reader

Word Count: 2,854

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff

Hello, lovely fantoms! 👻💞

I’ve written my first Charlie Gillespie imagine ever. It’s been a while since I’ve last written anything. Furthermore I’ve never written anything in English because it’s not my native language.

A really really big thank you goes to @bass-ic-deaky 💕

Thank you for going out of your way to not only correct my syntax and grammar but also to even writing an entire part of it and making it way more emotional! (A/N: She refined the airport scene and now it makes me cry!) 💗

I hope you enjoy it!

(It’s based on the song Everything has changed by Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran)

Masterlist

The first season of Julie and the Phantoms had been a huge success. It wasn’t long after for the second season to be announced. Kenny Ortega wanted to support even more young talent this time and had decided to give young songwriters a chance to write a song for the show. When (Y/N) had learned about this, she quickly had sent drafts of some of her songs to the executives in charge. (Y/N) couldn't believe it when she was invited a few weeks later to go to Vancouver to become part of the show. (Y/N) was not only allowed to attend the vocal coaching and the recordings of the songs, but also to be present during the shooting of the scenes for which she had written the song. The song was used for one of the performances of the band Julie and the Phantoms so (Y/N) hung around a lot with Madison and the boys. They all got on very well and (Y/N) liked each of them a lot. However she had to admit to herself that she had a crush on the canadian. Just a little one. Alright, maybe a big one, but she would never admit it.

(Y/N) always brought her guitar to set, so that she could play a bit in between takes. She was sitting apart from the actors, who were eating lunch, not feeling that hungry today. Not playing too loud to prevent her from disturbing anyone, (Y/N) lightly strummed her guitar strings before softly, she began to sing. 

All I knew this morning when I woke

Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before

This was how (Y/N) had felt the first morning on set. She had been so nervous that she had been trembling slightly. What if the cast didn’t like her song? Even if she had been afraid, she knew that this was a unique chance. It had been a step out of her comfort zone and she had been aware that a lot of new things would be coming her way. 

And all I've seen since 18 hours ago

Is green eyes and freckles

And your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like

The first time her eyes had met the ones of the young actor (Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking about him. From day one Charlie had been incredulously nice to her, trying to make her feel comfortable on set. He had made sure to let her know how much he liked the song she had written for the show. At the end of the first day she had gone home with a big smile on her face, thought of Charlie clouding her mind. 

I just want to know you better, know you better, know you better now

(Y/N) had wanted to know more about him. And with every new bit of information she got from him about himself, her interest only grew and her heart beat faster and faster. 

Suddenly, someone sat down next to her. She looked up, slightly startled. Charlie chuckled “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. That sounded really good.” He complimented her with a wide smile. (Y/N) felt her cheeks turning crimson. “Is it yours? That song I mean.” He asked curiously. 

(Y/N) nodded, hoping that Charlie hadn’t heard much of the lyrics. “Yeah, but it’s not finished yet. I can't seem to get any further from there.” She sighed. 

“I could help you!” The young actor offered joyfully, as he quickly took the last bite of his pizza before wiping his hands as he turned to her. 

“Uhm, you don’t have to.” (Y/N) nervously answered, feeling her face heat up further. She knew her feelings were unreciprocated and working with him on a song would only make things worse. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Charlie smiled brightly at her. 

She paused, taking in his bright smile and the sincerity within his eyes. “Okay, fine.” (Y/N) gave in. 

“Play the beginning again.” Charlie requested. (Y/N) took a deep breath, hoping the actor also won’t notice that it was about him. She started to play the song from the beginning and slowed to a stop at the same spot she did before. Charlie looked thoughtfully at her. “Hmmm, okay. So if I got this right, it’s a love song, right?” He asked her. (Y/N) nodded shyly. “Well, if you tell a story about two people meeting for the first time, why not go on from there? May I?” He pointed at the guitar. (Y/N) gave it to him relieved he didn’t catch up on her feelings for him yet. Slowly the actor started to play a few chords until he settled for a melody fitting the one she had played before.

Cause all I know is we said hello

His eyes met hers, a big smile forming on his lips.

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

He slowly came to a stop, unable to think of the next line. (Y/N) hoped he would just never stop singing to her. “What do you think of that?” Charlie interrupted her thoughts. 

(Y/N) cleared her throat, shaking out her thoughts. “It sounds really good.” She complimented with a smile. “Could you maybe start again and this time end with G?” She asked him. Charlie nodded and started to play and sing the same part again he had just made up.

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

(Y/N) sang when Charlie played the G-chord. He looked up at her surprised. “Wow, this is amazing! The line is so fitting! Everything has changed, (Y/N) you’re a genius!” He exclaimed with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. 

(Y/N) giggled, happy that Charlie liked it. “Thanks, Charlie.” She smiled brightly at him. With a nod Charlie started to play again. 

All I know was you held the door

(Y/N) suggested, still remembering when Charlie had held the big doors that led inside the massive building with all the sets inside open for her. Charlie nodded encouraging her to continue but the words that almost left her lips next were too much. Instead Charlie continued, eyes never leaving hers. 

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

He finished the chorus. Shocked, (Y/N) looked at him with big eyes. It was like Charlie had read her thoughts. But he couldn’t have. He was just trying to write a love song. He couldn’t feel the same about her! They just stared into each other’s eyes. A soft smile was forming on Charlie’s lips, so contagious that when it made any panic she felt go away, she had to smile herself. They were really having a moment, but all moments must come to an end. “We need you two on set again.” Kenny informed them from across the room. Charlie nodded at Kenny and rose from his spot next to her. The actor held out his hand for her. “You good to go?” He asked her. (Y/N) nodded and took his hand following him into the halls where they were filming the next scene.

Soon, it was (Y/N)’s last day on set. The scene in which her song was sung had been recorded. She said her goodbyes to everyone, one by one. “We have something for you!” Madison smiled at her. “So that you won’t forget us.” She gave (Y/N) a small box. Carefully, (Y/N) opened it. Inside was a necklace with a small pendant, which looked like a dahlia. 

Tears were forming in (Y/N)’s eyes as she looked up at the cast, all grinning widely at her. “Thank you all so much for everything!” She hugged each of them goodbye. Charlie had insisted on taking her to the airport. They slowly walked through the halls, taking their time, wanting to spend every moment they had left with each other. Slowly, (Y/N) turned to face him when they arrived at security, as far as Charlie could go with her. A small sad smile was visible on his lips. “I’m gonna miss you.” (Y/N) admitted shyly. 

Immediately she was pulled into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you more.” Charlie mumbled quietly into the crook of her neck. Slowly they pulled back from the hug, Charlie’s hands were still firmly situated around her waist, sending an electric jolt through her body. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, each sparkling with a certain emotion neither could place. (Y/N) felt her heart pounding wildly as she saw his eyes flick downward. Did she just witness his gaze wander to her lips? No, that must’ve been her imagination. There was no way he liked her like that, but even still there was no denying the chemistry between them, the magnetism that pulled them toward one another. He was all she could see. (Y/N) could’ve stayed there forever with Charlie. Even as people hustled about the pair, all shouting, all rushing to catch their planes, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world. It was just them in their moment of pure bliss. All that mattered in this moment was Charlie, and him alone. She felt her heart speed up as she subconsciously found herself, just as Charlie had, leaning in closer to the actor. They were well and truly going to share a moment. But all moments must come to an end. “Flight AA73 will be boarding at gate 77 in forty-five minutes.” A voice came over the loudspeaker announcing details of her flight, effectively breaking their bubble of bliss.

“Your flight is going to depart soon, too.” He sighed, offering her a crooked smile. She nodded, a pang of sadness radiating through her chest. Slowly and reluctantly, he let her go, hands lingering on her for as long as physically possible, so she could go through security. As she neared the metal detectors (Y/N) turned around one last time to see the brunette still standing there. Her (e/c) gaze caught his. He offered her one last grin, sadness barely evident on his face as he waved. She returned the smile, returning a small wave before she disappeared from his sight. During her flight, (Y/N) tried to keep her mind busy, trying with great effort to not think about Charlie. Reading a book, watching a movie, listening to music, none of it helped. Her thoughts always returned to the brunette actor and that sweetly goofy grin of his. Every time she closed her eyes he was there, preventing her from falling asleep. 

Once (Y/N) got home, she put her suitcases in a corner before flopping down on her bed. Tiredly, she looked at her phone, which showed that she had received several messages. “Hope your flight was good and that you arrived home safely. Can’t wait to see you again!” Madi had sent her. Owen and Jeremy also had sent her messages, but one particular  message caught her eyes. 

Come back and tell me why

I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time

Her heart was pounding so quickly, it felt as though it would jump out of her chest at any moment. Did Charlie maybe feel the same way? It was hopeless even if he did, she would probably never see him again. Only if she visited him or the other way around. Such a meeting would come about in a few weeks. Until then, (Y/N) could only dream of at that moment. 

Once they finished the filming of season two, Charlie was back in Los Angeles. He immediately called her. “Hey, how have you been?” He asked her excitedly. 

“Good so far. Missing the time on set though.” She replied, glad to hear his voice again. 

“We missed you, too!” He told her, a smile tugging on his lips. “I missed you.” He added quickly after. “I actually missed you so much that I might’ve bought a ticket for you to come visit me in LA, you know, because you said you’ve never been.”

“You did what?” She asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna send it to you. And...now it should be in your e-mail.” She could hear his smile through the phone. (Y/N) opened up her mailbox and sure enough, there was a message from Charlie. 

“You’re crazy!” She exclaimed. 

The boy on the other end of the line laughed. “See you in three days!” 

Los Angeles was great but spending time with Charlie was even better. (Y/N) had planned to stay at least a week so they had enough time together. Charlie first had shown her around his neighbourhood, taking her around all his old haunts. They had been to the beach together and had eaten at all of his favourite restaurants and cafes. But what she adored most about her trip was doing ordinary, usually mundane tasks together like cooking or watching a movie in the evening or even just jamming out a bit. Sometimes (Y/N) thought that this was how it would be to be in a relationship with him. “I’m going to run to the grocery store real quick.” He informed her one evening. (Y/N) was sitting on his couch scrolling through Netflix, trying to find a movie they could watch later. She nodded. “Do you need anything?” He asked her. (Y/N) shook her head. “Okay, I’m gonna hurry. Don’t do something stupid while I’m gone!” 

(Y/N) giggled softly. “Shouldn’t I saying that to you? You’re the chaotic one.” 

Charlie laughed. “Yeah yeah, I know. Be back soon.” He said while closing the door. (Y/N) huffed, not able to find a film they could watch. She decided to wait for Charlie to come back so that they could choose one together. She reached for her guitar she specifically brought to play together with Charlie. Softly she began to sing.

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

All I know was you held the door

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Come back and tell me why

I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time

And meet me there tonight

Let me know that it’s not all in my mind 

When Charlie had sent her the message she couldn’t get it out of her head for days so she decided to include it in the song. (Y/N) was so engrossed that she hadn't heard the front door open. Charlie was already back and standing behind her. “Did you finish the song? I thought we wanted to finish it together! And was that the message I sent you when you went back home?” He rambled with a furrowed brow. 

(Y/N) turned to look at him with wide eyes, her cheeks taking a faint shade of red. “Charlie I - “ She began. 

The actor took a seat next to her. “Why did you put it in the song? I mean it fits the entire love story thing because it sounds like a confession but…” He trailed off as he realised what he had said, his eyes grew wide. He had the feeling that he might have just admitted how he felt towards her. His cheeks turned crimson. 

“Wait….are you - “ (Y/N) cleared her throat, which suddenly felt quite dry. “Are you saying you like me?” She asked, the hope inside of her started to grow. Maybe he did feel the same way after all. 

“No! Charlie quickly exclaimed. Suddenly (Y/N)’s eyes grew sad. “I mean...maybe…” The actor quickly back peddled. “What if I am?” He nervously rubbed his neck. 

“Well, uhm…” (Y/N) nervously fumbled with her hair “If you are then I would too…maybe… even though I don’t really have to because the entire song is one, I guess.” She shyly shrugged. 

Charlie`s eyes grew wide “Wait...are you saying the song is about me? About us?” A big smile formed on his lips. (Y/N) nodded slowly making Charlie sighed, absolutely relieved. “May I?” He pointed to the guitar. She nodded handing it to him. He took it from her and placed it on the ground. (Y/N) looked confused at him. “It would have been in the way.” Charlie explained quietly as he gently grabbed her face, pulled her close to meet him in a soft, tender kiss. 

Slowly they detached from one another, each smiling brighter than the other. (Y/N) chuckled “I can’t believe you feel the same!”. 

“Well, I thought I let you know that it’s not all in your mind.” He quoted her. 

(Y/N) laughed. “What do you think?” Charlie picked up her guitar and gave it to her. 

He reached behind him where his guitar lay and placed it in his hands. “Should we play the song again? Together?” (Y/N) nodded joyfully. She took a deep breath, still trying to register what just had happened. Charlie smiled softly at her “You good to go?”