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evans-heaven · 2 years

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Scene ; Joseph Quinn

Leave it to me to see one comment asking for a full fic based on one of my Moments drabbles and actually write that shit 😭 I've been working on this piece for weeks and I'm pretty happy with how I left it so here it is for your reading pleasure ;)

Before we start, a couple of things:

This is pre-Feelings (tho reader is very much in love here but doesn't realize it)

The death scene is from the POV of Stacey, your character, and is mostly my dialogue bc i tried watching the actual clip and got less than 10 seconds in before i started crying 🙃 so I'm not gonna torture myself like that y'all sorry lol

Reader is portrayed as having anxiety and overthinks a lot, kinda like in Feelings. I write her like this bc that's pretty much how I am in real life about my own thoughts, feelings, and basically everything else. Aaannnd that's basically it lmao

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings: Unedited content, strong language, ANGST, description of Eddie's death scene, mentions of blood, mild depictions of anxiety, some fluff, and touching, duh ;)

wc: 3.6k

I already linked the other two fics so read Touch here

Pt 2 here

Prior to this day, you had your assumptions that actors filming a death scene would be pretty tough.

But, now that you were in a position where you yourself would be at the borderline center of one, ‘tough’ was kind of an understatement.

‘Tough’ wasn’t nearly a suitable enough word to describe having to cradle your co-star who was covered in prosthetic wounds and fake blood as he sputtered out I love you’s and goodbye’s, and then ‘died’ in your arms.

Maybe ‘tough’ would be the appropriate term here, if said co-star wasn’t your best fucking friend and the person you were undoubtably closest with on set. Him dying in your arms, even if it was just for the screen, was still an experience that would feel way too real-even if you tried to remind yourself that, at the end of the day, it wasn’t. No matter how true to life it would seem. No matter how damn realistic those wounds looked (why the fuck did Amy and her team have to be so talented?), and no matter how fucking incredible Joe Quinn was at pretending to die.

The words ‘calm down’ echoed in your head like a broken record all day. They had blended into one, to the point where they were incoherent and didn’t seem to make sense. Thus, they did very little to offer comfort.

The day had been frustrating, to put it lightly. But, at least you had Joe.

That morning, during your daily-or hourly-sanctioned bear hug, your heartbeat was so strong he practically heard it pulsing in his ears. That alone told him your anxiety would be working double time that day. It was a serious pain in the agss sometimes.

You and Joe had always been attached at the hip over the last year and some, always hanging off of each other in some way or another. And today, it was with good reason attached to it-not that (consensual) physical touch ever had to have a purpose other than wanting to be close. Having that gentle contact, even if it was just a hand on your shoulder-was more than enough to ground you and halt the overactive thoughts-even if for a couple of minutes.

Although he’d say he was only trying to comfort you, it was obvious your embraces and touches held mutual benefit. Just as he was able to sense your anxiety, you could sense his. The sweaty palms when your fingers laced together during breakfast and lunch weren’t from you, nor were the goosebumps you felt against your collarbones when he held you from behind after you got your makeup done for the scene. This showed you that, despite acting his ass off during rehearsals, it didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

But, in typical heartthrob-from-a-90s-novel-written-by-a-woman fashion, all his energy was put into making you feel better, comforted, and assured that everything would be okay. Even if he had no idea what the true driving force was behind your anxiousness.

You couldn’t have asked for a better on screen boyfriend. Stacey Miller-Rhodes was a damn lucky gal. Well, up until her boyfriend got chunks of his flesh ripped from his body by demobats. Meaning he died. Meaning Eddie was gone.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

A sharp knock on your trailer door interrupted your useless mantra, as you jolted, just a little, before giving permission for whoever to enter.

In walked Matt and Ross, warm smiles on their faces. It didn’t do much to ease you, because you knew why they were here.

“Hey, Y/N, you ready?” Ross asked. Matt stood by the door keeping it open, since it was time to go.

You nodded. “Yep,” your voice was even, masking the heavy feeling in your throat. You were not ready.

“Figured we’d come get you ourselves, Joe’s busy with makeup on set, for, you know-”

“I know. Thanks,” you said quickly, cutting Matt off. “Let’s get going, then,” you said, standing up and walking past Matt, exiting your trailer. You heard the door shut softly and their footsteps following behind you.

You were being short with them, but that was because you really only wanted Joe at this moment. Unfortunately, he was currently being ‘deadified’ on set, which is where you were now headed. You two had a little cuddle session in your trailer, where he held you tight and layed kiss after kiss on your forehead, cooing that it would be okay and that you would both be fine. After that, he had to go to the makeup trailer to get his prosthetic wounds applied. The process had taken hours, and then he had to film the scene where Eddie actually got attacked by the bats. This meant it had been a while since you saw him last. So, his mamed and mangled appearance awaited you, when the last time you saw him, he was totally unharmed and at ease.

You entered the building, in which there were only a chosen few people. It was a closed set, just you, Joe, and the necessary crew members. The Duffers believed that because a death scene with a couple was so intimate, you and Joe were the only actors that should be on set.

That, you were thankful for. You were your best self when it was just you and Joe, so you could be your best ‘acting self’, when it was just the two of you as well.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the ‘Upside Down’, a set made to look like the particular spot in the alternate universe where everything would go down. It was tinted blue and almost sent a chill down your spine to look at, from how cold uninviting, and eerie the general vibe of the scenery was. And a little depressing, which was pretty fitting. The backdrop was a blue screen, which would be used to add the background of the setting, to make everything look as real as possible.

You spotted Joe in the middle of the set, the makeup team applying fake blood to his very real looking wounds.

“C’mon, we wanna talk to you and Joe for a second before we start,” Matt told you, and as much as that made sense, you wished Joe was more than just a few feet away so you could prepare a little more for seeing him….like that, outside of the context of the scene.

“Okay,” you said as you three began walking towards him just as makeup finished up their job. When you got to him, you felt yourself tense up at his appearance as you lingered back, just a little bit. He stood awkwardly with his arms slightly hovering away from his body, clearly not wanting to disrupt the fake damage. You could tell from the sight before you that with how much fake blood the team used, those demobats would really do a number on Eddie.

You hated those little CGI bastards.

“Hey,” Joe said, gaining your attention, though his tone was light. You met his eyes, narrowly avoiding the blood streaking the lower half of his face.

“Hi,” you said back, feeling just a little bit of air release from your lungs, not even remembering when you took a breath in. You wanted to make a sarcastic quip to lighten the mood, but words failed you. You didn’t really feel like being funny right now.

“So, you guys remember how the scene goes, Eddie just sacrificed himself and got attacked by the bats, and Stacey runs up to him afterward and sees his body laying there, barely alive, covered in blood and wounds,” Matt began.

You curled your lips in and nodded stiffly, feeling the slightest of shocks run through your body. Calm down.

“I know you two are gonna kill this scene,” Matt continued. “No one understands or could have brought to life Eddie and Stacey better than the two of you,” he said warmly, clamping hands down on both your shoulders. Yours was tense under his touch and Stacey’s clothing.

You had to admit, though, he was right. You had a lot of input into Stacey’s character, taking her from Eddie’s shy girlfriend who was just a tool to enhance how eccentric he was, to a girl with a backstory and reasons for her reserved nature. Knowing Stacey’s history would make the scene even more gut wrenching to film. A girl raised in a household with a domineering step-father who believed women should be seen and not heard, who made her life a living hell under the watchful eye of her mother who did nothing to stop it. Upon turning 18 she left him and his toxicity behind, but carried the burden of years of being forced to subdue herself. Eddie got her to open up to him, but she still carried herself quietly around others. The fear of judgment was damaging.

Because of how much you put into Stacey and the influence you had on her storyline, you knew none of your nervousness had to do with how you’d perform in the scene. You were confident in your abilities as an actress and knew you could carry this scene with the help of Joe perfectly.

“Thanks, guys, that means a lot,” you said to them, gripping the moto jacket you wore, canonically taken by Stacey from Eddie’s closet.

“Yeah, truly, we’ve come a long way from me thinking I would completely ruin the show,” Joe chuckled, the smile on his face juxtaposed by the blood caking it. It was actually kind of off putting.

“Alright, well, let’s get this show on the road!” Mat clapped his hands and walked with his brother offset.

More like let’s get this over with. You were about to walk off to get in your spot, when Joe grabbed your hand gently, stopping you. You turned to face him, brows raised expectantly.

“You good?” he asked.

Deciding to keep this short and sweet, you settled for a quick nod, and a soft ‘yeah’. Satisfied, he released your hand so you could go to your place, just as one of the Duffers yelled “Places!”

When you got to your mark, you looked over to Joe one more time, who was already looking your way. You could feel the intensity of his stare from where you stood, those gorgeous brown eyes and the way they sparkled no matter the lighting or setting. He gave you a smile, and you returned one, unable to ever not do so. It managed to give you a new found confidence you lacked just seconds prior. He took his position on the ground, and then, it was time.

There was no turning back once it began. Unless you swiveled on your heels and ran in the opposite direction, which was tempting.

Once it happened, everything you were worried about could become a possibility to follow suit.

You sucked in an unstable breath and closed your eyes, savoring a final moment of calm before those two little word were uttered-

“And….ACTION!”

You took off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stacey’s heart was ramming against her ribcage the moment she re-entered the upside down, but when she saw her boyfriend lying limp on the cold, wet ground, she swore her legs would give out as her heart seemed to cease in its entirety.

He had gone back. He wanted to be a hero. He didn’t want to run anymore, but God, she wished he did.

“Eddie!” Stacey called out, voice unstable and legs threatening to give out from underneath her as she sprinted towards him. Somewhere in the corner of her mind that was swarming with fears of what would happen to him, she began to pray to whoever there was that could hear her and help him.

Please let him be okay. Please. Please. Please.

“Ed, babe, oh my God,” Stacey whispered, and fell to her knees before his broken down form. His torso was torn to shreds, his Hellfire shirt almost completely soaked with blood from his wounds. She took hold of him and pulled the upper half of his body into her lap, feeling the red substance begin to seep through her jeans.

The demo bats surrounded the two of them, incapacitated, laying limp on the floor of the upside down-taunting you. Blissfully unaware that they had probably just taken the love of Stacey's life away from her, brutally, with no remorse, as he tried so desperately to be the hero, not the coward he convinced himself he was.

“Ed, are you with me? Can you hear me?” Stacey asked him softly, not wanting to scare him. She brushed his hair from his face and tried to meet his eyes, his gaze unfocused and teary.

Eddie’s voice came out shaky and weak from his blood coated mouth, his cheeks smeared with it. “I did it,” he choked out. “I didn’t run anymore,”

There was no denying he felt some semblance of pride at what he did, and because of that, Stacey couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though the tension in the noise was palpable. “Yeah, yeah baby, you’re so brave,” she told him.

The proud smile he bore was distorted by a look of pain as he shifted slightly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” he groaned, in clear discomfort.

One of her hands applied pressure to one of the many wounds that marred his torso as he shivered in her arms. “No, no babe, it’s fine, you're gonna be okay,” she stumbled out, trying to sound as confident in her words as possible, when everything about the situation told her that her words were not the truth. “We just….we just need to get to you to a hospital and everything’s gonna be okay, Ed, don’t worry,”

“No. I think this was it, baby,” he met his girlfriend’s gaze, his jaw trembling as more blood dribbled out the sides of his mouth as he took in barely there, labored breaths. “This was finally my year,”

Stacey choked out helpless cries, caressing his face, and shaking her head. This couldn’t be his year, this couldn’t be the way it ended. He was supposed to finally graduate and the two of them were supposed to get the hell out of Hawkins together, away from all the bullshit media propaganda and pearl clutching PTA moms. They were going to get out of there and be happy together. That was how it was supposed to fucking be, goddammit.

“No,” Stacey gritted.“This isn’t over yet, you’re gonna be okay, Ed,” she nodded stiffly, lips trembling as salty tears flowed into the seam. “We’re just gonna wait a little until the others get here, then we’re gonna carry you out of this hellhole and take you to a hospital, and the doctors there are going to fix you, baby, they’re going to make the bleeding go away, and stitch you up and give you some meds, and then you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she chanted weakly as her cheeks became soaked with tears. She wanted to speak it into existence, even as reality clawed and fought its way to the front of her mind.

“Baby,” he cooed. He placed a cold hand on hers, the one that still pressed against one of his wounds, gripping it weakly. Always the one who wanted to comfort her, even if he needed it way more in this situation. “I’ve fulfilled my duty as Eddie the Banished, I didn’t run, and I saved the town,” he told her.

“That town doesn’t deserve your sacrifice, Eddie,” Stacey argued pathetically.

“I saved you,” he stressed, making it known that this act was with only one person at the forefront as motivation, the rest of the town behind her. “And you’re worth it, Stacey. You’re so. Fucking. Worth it,” he said to her, lacing their fingers together, pulling the back of her hand up to his lips, and pressing a bloodied kiss to the cold, dirty skin.

“I love you so much,” he said as firmly as his shutting down body would let him.

It hurt her to not say those words back, but she knew why he said them, and she didn’t want to accept this as the end.

“Ed, don't you dare say goodbye,” she told him through her tears, trying to sound strong and sure, but it wasn’t possible. “This isn’t the end for you, this isn’t the end for us,” she said.

“Stacey, baby, I want you to listen to me,” Eddie began, the wobble in his voice impossible to ignore now as he tried to raise his head as much as he could, wanting her to truly take in his next words. “When you go back, I want you to go home and pack all of your shit, as much as you can carry, and I want you to get on the next bus out, because you’re gonna leave that shithole Hawkins. You’re gonna tell that place to kiss your ass and you’re gonna run like hell out of there without so much as a single glance back,”

Stacey shook her head, understanding where this was headed, not wanting to hear a word more. “Ed, no-”

“You’re gonna find some place for the both of us, somewhere where the people aren’t shallow minded assholes, where we can be whoever the fuck we want to be with each other, and I want you to live your life everyday as you would have if I was there,’

“Eddie, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. I don’t want you to cave back into yourself, baby. You’re the most beautiful, brilliant, incredible human being I’ve ever met and everyone deserves to know you and appreciate you as you are. Do you hear me?”His proclamation to her ended with that simple question, and he left no room for argument.

She absorbed all his words, every letter, every syllable, struggling to accept that the life they wanted to have together, would have to continue on without him. The life she wanted with him would totally and completely absolve her from the one she had growing up. Could she do it? Could she move on?

Those answers remained to be determined, but the one thing she absolutely couldn’t do was argue with him anymore. She just didn’t have it in her to deny him his dying wish, or keep fighting what he had already accepted.

Closing her eyes, more droplets fell, mixing with his blood. She felt herself nodding before she could even consider another response in her mind. “Yeah,” she whispered in a watered down voice. “Yeah, baby, I hear you,” she opened her eyes and met his own once more.

“Good,” he replied. “Good,” his voice was noticeably more floaty that time.

They fell silent. They just looked into one another’s eyes, exchanging so many words and feelings that would completely consume what little time they had left together. His hand was still laced with hers, pressed against his chest, where she could feel his weakening heart beat.

“I love you so much,” he repeated his words from earlier, breaking the hauntingly peaceful quiet. It was barely above a whisper practically mouthed, but she heard him, loud and clear. And as soon as those words came out, he looked ahead blankly, his eyes slowly beginning to lose the light in them Stacey loved so much.

“Eddie, no, please,” she gritted, tears dripping from her eyes uncontrollably. “Stay with me, baby, please,” she pleaded urgently, brushing more of his damp hair out of the way and patting his cheek lightly, trying to get him to remain alert….alive. She just wanted one more moment with him. Just one.

But then, she felt it.

His body stilled.

His grip on her hand went limp.

His eyes lost any life left in them.

“Eddie,” she whimpered, hand remaining on his cheek. Her body shook uncontrollably as she let the tears fall freely onto him, her agony and pain taking over as she held his lifeless form close to hers. She repeated his name through her cries, trying to wake him, trying to make this nightmare end. She leaned down and pressed her forehead to his, wanting to feel him as close as possible, for what was the very last time.

“I love you, too,” Stacey whispered, her lips touching the skin between his eyebrows. If those words meant anything anymore, she wanted it to be at this moment.

Because she truthfully didn’t know when-or if- she would ever say them again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“CUT!”

It was like a switch went off in you, as reality made its presence known once more.

The scene was done, the Duffers yelled cut, it was over.

However, the moment fully sank in when Joe rose up and took your hands in his, pulling you upright and bringing you into a warm embrace. You didn’t care about the fake blood that would get all over your front or the fact that his back was soggy and caked with damp dirt, you threw your arms around him and held on tightly, rivaling the hold he had on you.

“You did so incredible, babes, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear, his long fingers running up and down your sides lightly, almost tickling, but you reveled in it and his touch. You closed your eyes blissfully as you came down from your high, feeling the tears drying on your face, thankful makeup used waterproof eye makeup.

“Yeah, you too,” you said back for his ears only, as the Duffers and the rest of the crew approached you both. You let each other go, though his arm remained on the small of your back, as everyone began delivering their praise. The voices became so jumbled you could barely register who said what. So, you just smiled and nodded and gave your gratitude along with Joe, whose hand rubbed soothing circles against your waist.

Now, to face reality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 where Joe and reader discuss why she was so nervous coming Saturday 🥰 it was originally part of this fic, but it was getting way too damn long, so a split was needed lol. Stay tuned Joe girlies 😘

#joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x actress!reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn writing #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc

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dailyterukane · 1 year

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this is the real official unedited dialogue actually, i can confirm this because im aidairo

#tbhk #terukane

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nightingale-ghost-writer · 3 months

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By the Grace Of [Sorcerer Rogier x Fem!Tarnished] - Chapter Two

Summary: The Tarnished finds herself a new sword alongside her new friend, and finds herself wishing for a way to get under the sorcerer’s skin the way he has hers.

Author’s Notes: A measly 800 word, just a bit more dialogue to set the scene and establish character.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Elden Ring

Warnings: none? Unedited (basically), unfinished story- read at your own risk!

“Rogier?”

He opened his eyes, tilting his hat up to see from beneath the brim of his hat. Delia stood before him, twisting her fingers nervously together. Her eyes darted between his face and the blanket over his legs, brows drawn low over her eyes.

Rogier seemed frozen for a moment before pasting on a wide smile. “Ah, we meet again after all. I apologize for any offense given by my bearing, but I’m quite unable to move, you see.” She felt her heart splinter. She’d known the moment she touched that bloodstain, but she hadn’t wanted to believe. The first person to show her genuine kindness in this godsforsaken land…

He continued before she could gather her thoughts enough to interject, sounding remote. “So. What do you need?”

She looked at him, face screwed up to hold back some emotion she couldn’t quite put a name to. He seemed to squirm for a blink as she studied him. Finally, she spoke.

“I’ve defeated Godrick.”

His eyebrows went up in surprise, mouth forming a perfect circle. “Ah.” She said nothing else, and aftee a moment, he continued. “You defeated Godrick and claimed yourself a Great Rune.” He smiled up at her, a bit more real, and this time she returned it. It seemed to be the first real smile he’d given since they met.

He grimaced, flinching, and then hummed. Under his breath, he said “Looks like we both got what we wanted out of Stormveil, didn’t we.” Her face fell, cool demeanor slipping between her fingers. He seemed to notice, because he opened his mouth, but then faltered.

He tugged at the blanket over his legs. She tracked the movement, trying not to let her distress bleed through. Rogier pasted a smile back on, and leaned to his side. “Well done, friend.” He turned. And in his hands was his rapier. “Something to mark the occasion.”

Delia blanched. Not his beautiful blade. “Go on, take it.”

She reeled back, unable and unwilling to tear her eyes away from the proffered sword.

“Rogier, I-” she faltered.

He softened his voice, regret dimming his smile. “As you might’ve guessed, I still can’t move. My fighting days are behind me.” He gestured toward her with the hilt. He went on, a bit more firmly. “No need to be polite, I’ve no use for it anymore.”

She stepped forward, tentative fingers wrapping around the hilt. She couldn’t. She had to. For a moment, Rogier’s grip on the blade held. Then, he pressed it toward her. “Please,” he murmured. “You need something better than that piece of scrap you used against Margit. Besides which, this way I’m still helping you out, in a way.” He smiled up at her, but it seemed hollow.

Silently, Delia pulled her own newly acquired sword from her scabbard. It was a wide blade hewn of bright steel. She held it to Rogier, whose eyes went wide in appraisal. “Actually, I already did replace the piece of scrap.” Eager hands reached forward to run across the metal, testing the balance and edge. He seemed impressed.

Delia took in a breath. “Does that change your mind?” He hummed absently, looking up to her from where he still studied her new sword. Then he realized what she was asking and that new light dulled.

Delia could kick herself.

“No. No, it does not change my mind.” He handed back her sword, tilting his head down to retreat beneath the brim of his hat. Delia stamped down a pang of hurt and irritation. She found herself frustrated, not for the first time in their interactions, at his sudden withdrawal.

“Unlike you, I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of this guidance for the longest time.”

She wondered how long that time was. She had learned precious little about her own kind in her travels thus far, but from what meager information she had managed to glean, she was under the distinct impression that most of the other Tarnished she’d met had been here for years. Decades, even. Ageless, even after the abandonment of grace, but searching. Ever searching.

She thought of the echo she’d seen when she’d touched the bloodstain beneath Stormveil. Rogier’s bloodstain. The arch of his back as he was pierced through and lifted from his feet. The blanket over his legs now.

She desperately wanted to ask, wanted to know what had happened, and why he couldn’t cure it with magic. What she could do to help, and why he sat here, all alone, removed from the rest of the Hold.

She bit her lip, and took a deep breath.

She knelt, and bit back a triumphant grin at the utter shock in his expression. She leaned forward, hands on his knees, and pressed her lips to his cheek as her heart hammered. Rogier sucked in a breath, so quietly she almost missed it. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“Thank you,” she whispered. He said nothing, blinking rapidly. She stood, and turned, and without another word, walked away from the balcony.

#nightingale writes #elden ring #elden ring sorcerer rogier #elden ring rogier #sorcerer rogier #rogier #sorcerer rogier x tarnished #sorcerer rogier x fem!tarnished #rogier x tarnished #rogier x fem!tarnished

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tigirl-and-co · 1 year

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Hmm-hmm, little unedited snippet I banged out real fast! Sorry if the dialogue word choices sound off, my brain is full of fog and mist today so I’m having trouble remembering how everyone talks!

Anyway, here’s a short scene for Donna in the TARDIS with 12 and Bill! I just love the idea of all of them together, and finally got inspiration! I’m imagining this taking place after an adventure where Bill and Donna meet for the first time, and something happens to get Bill down.

~~~

Donna looked right into the eyes of the young adult who had taken a seat on the console room stairs and gave her the most no-nonsense, completely self-assured expression she could muster up. "Oh, don't you worry, we'll get you a man. Hell, we'll get you one before I get one, if we can."

Bill winced instinctively. "Actually, I'm... not particularly interested in men." She wanted to avert her gaze, but this was her Doctor's TARDIS, and she wouldn't cow, even for one of his old friends. She didn't see the Doctor rolling his eyes.

"Oh thank God, most of them are shite."

Bill couldn't help it- she broke out into a surprised grin. This was the best-case scenario, the one she had been hoping for.

But Donna wasn't finished. "So, girls, then? Or aliens? Kids are into aliens these days, right? Or both! Alien women, like in Star Trek!"

The Doctor was staring very intently at a screen on the main console. He wished he had his sunglasses.

"Oi! Spaceman!" Donna whipped around to face him, and he straightened up and tried to look professional. Bill, who was experiencing whiplash, managed to note he was struggling to contain both amusement and a little bit of fear. Too deep in shock to say anything, Bill instead briefly wondered just how powerful Donna was to inspire that sort of reaction.

"Yes, Donna?" he asked, quirking an infamous eyebrow despite knowing exactly what she was going to ask.

"What planets are out there with people on them that work with humans, romantically?" Donna paused for a moment, looking back over her shoulder at Bill. "Do you want them to work in all the other ways, too...? Yeaaaah, of course you do. You're young and you need fun." She turned back to scrutinize the stone-faced space Scotsman. "Well?"

He took his chance to egg on his old companion. "Donna, why exactly do you think I know anything about romance? You remember how the last bout ended, don't you? Well, I mean now you remember, of course you had forgotten be-" he cut himself off when he took notice of the glower, made more threatening by the low lights of the console room. "Sorry."

She didn't lighten up. "Yes, I do remember that a clone of yourself went off to live a long and happy life with Rose."

The Doctor frowned. "Well-"

"I wasn't finished. You also told me that River -- remember her? -- you said that she turned out to be your wife so obviously you aren't as clueless as you always say you are." She snorted, and Bill found herself wishing she had popcorn. Or chips.

"Donna-"

"And you told me you had kids back on Gallifrey, and your granddaughter fell in love with a human!" Bill almost choked on air at that.

I wonder if his granddaughter's cute...

Donna was winding down. "So don't you tell me that you don't know anything about romance, mister! Even if you were unbelievably ungraceful after kidnapping me from my wedding." She smiled in confident triumph.

Suddenly, a laugh rang out from behind Donna. Bill had finally caught on to what was happening.

"You two are hilarious!" she choked out. "Donna, thanks but no thanks- I'll find a woman on my own." She paused. "I hadn't considered an alien girlfriend before, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to be open-minded." Bill turned to look at the Doctor, who was grinning cheekily. "And you're going to tell me about... whatever she was talking about. I can't believe you ever found the time for romance!"

The Doctor frowned. "Now what makes everybody think-"

Donna seemed to be enjoying cutting him off today. "You're welcome- I'm sure a cute and clever woman like you won't have trouble finding somebody once you're ready to start looking." She walked over to Bill's side and slung her arm over the younger woman's shoulder. "And between you and me, you've got plenty of time."

Two pairs of eyes rolled this time, although only the Scottish pair had something to say. "So, Bill, I take it you don't want to go to the planet of incredibly attractive humanoid aliens, of which all are female?" He smirked. "That's good. I'm an honorary member of the species, but it can still be a bit awkward."

Bill paused, and she could feel Donna's smile, because it was infectious. She grinned even wider. "Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to check out!"

"Oh, that's good to hear, because it looks like they're being invaded and need some help!"

Both girls' grins vanished.

"Wait-"

@cloudbustingss

LMAO TWO YEARS LATE BUT I FINALLY MANAGED TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR THEM

sorry it’s not the greatest, had an idea but brain didn’t want to cooperate

#my writing #fanfiction #doctor who #whoniverse #the doctor #donna noble #bill potts #12 #twelve #twelfth doctor #this one's not good enough to go on ao3 i don't think #sometimes you just gotta crank something out

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charmac · 3 months

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whoops! not meant to be a leading question. i only ask because i’ve been writing a multi part story that i haven’t published yet and i feel like i’m constantly going back to make little tweaks to old sections. i find the writing process fascinating and i’m genuinely impressed that you haven’t ever wanted to change anything! (also btw loving the fic!)

Ohh, gotcha, haha. That makes sense!

It definitely happens to me when I'm writing chapters (right now for Chapter 11 I've changed a ton of scenes that I found weren't working for where I wanted to land), but once I publish a chapter it's basically as if I'm finalizing a portion of the story as canon.

I honestly find that publishing before I've finished writing the whole thing is more helpful that way, because it's slowly cementing what is actually real and canon, and what's still floating/undecided, and then I can use what the readers know as canon to further develop and build to the climax.

I have a hard time looking at my writing as always in flux, always editable, because I feel like I'll never settle properly if I do that. There has to be established, uneditable plots, scenes, and dialogue for me to move forward and build off of. I basically go into each chapter with one clear goal, and as long as I've met that goal then it's solid.

(I'll also say, something very nice about writing from 3rd person limited POV (or 1st, obviously) is if there's ever an omission or a continuity mistake, or something you write later just doesn't perfectly line up with what you've already established, it's very easy to explain it as the character's misinterpretation/forgetfulness/stupidity)

#ask #writing #im glad no one has found any holes then... hahaha jk #ive never had to do my aside btw mac is just stupid #im telling the truth yes

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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Spoilers!!!

my random rambling about to explain why ["No" (Yandere!Albedo/Reader)] is a mess lmao (and no i didn't proofread this, enjoy reading my unaltered agony):

Edit: actually nevermind i edited just one word cause I couldn't take the misspelling lol. There rest of these texts are still unedited except for that one specific word ( which is troupe to trope lol )

Writing albedo's pretty much a challenge because i pegged that he's the type of yandere that you wouldn't figure out he's one unless he confesses everything. He's popular, but a recluse. He's eccentric, but he can be trusted. Those are some characteristics that can make create such a disastrous slowburn yandere. And he likely confess after a long time just to have a record of your reaction (with a scholarly purpose in mind.)

Idk if I managed to make him subtle at all ;;-;; My goal was to make the reader think albedo is a green flag for most of it all while dropping hints that he aint idk if that worked out but oh well no beta we die like __ right?

It's not my proudest work that's for sure, but it's an interesting ride writing it so I thought I'd share lol (꒪ヮ꒪)

The fic was supposed to be inspired by Love Hypothesis. A friend made me read it in a sleepover and I jokingly suggested doing a yandere albedo version and I guess I'm a man of my word(?). I unfortunately had to change a lot since I can't see Albedo having a very intense strict "I don't want to produce mediocre scientists" mindset, and the reader is gn! here so they shouldn't have women-specific STEM struggles. Albedo's loved by a lot of people and he's rather lax when teaching Timaeus so I really can't picture him playing the "grump" character troupe. I have a habit of constantly checking character voice lines in the wiki to get a gist of who I'm writing and I just can't see him as an Adam Carlsen. Send help. (´；ω；｀)

And also a big "unlike LoveHypo" here is that this is a yandere story. It's bond to be toxic. It doesn't read like the source material anymore since it's not a grumpy/sunshine troupe, it's a reluctant stalker/suspicious individual dynamic, if that's a thing. Ironically, I think this is a first fic of mine where the reader lowkey wins in the end? Lmao. What. ರ_ರ

Also: I REVISED THIS FIC SO MANY TIMES YOU HAVE NO IDEA 😭😭😭 For unrelated reasons I got sick with quite the high fever in the middle writing the latter half as well LOL (≧▽≦). The fic was supposed to be more faithful to Love Hypothesis but of course that's scrapped due to reasons mentioned above but then I added that small ex-itto tidbit for fun and temporarily made the reader into a pure chaotic, reckless (and lowkey asshole) person so it'll be believable that the two were exes. Also SCRAPPED that partially because when I tried writing their dialogues with Albedo they're both going nowhere fast and it's turning into a real clownship ;;;;-;;;; wtf. Nearly had the reader call Albedo a dweeb in a dialogue.

Got writer's block with this story and tried writing something else and at that point I was writing 3 fics at once for no valid reason (and now an itto-focused side story for "careful, he bites" is nearly done lololol, I finished a short alhaitham fic before this as well, will prolly upload it tomorrow. The sagau au take I have might take a while). I'm very sorry for my absence! Life is absolutely hectic rn sigh

Also, here's the story header/banner i scrapped as well lololol:

Ain't this a mess lol.

ya know what makes this more hilarous?

i enrolled in an educ course in a state uni before i finished this fic lmfao--

so yeah, "why did they not fake date like in love hypo--" cause im a coward and it felt weird for me to write something about that considering my future possible profession hAHAHAH--

Edit:

#tag: no - albedo #ansytea-talks

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youredreamingofroo · 3 months

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20-22 and 8-10 pleaseee ❤️

got a REAL big fan here, making me answer 6 questions 🤨

under the cut again cuz longggggg ass post LMFAO

20: Pick your favorite edit you've done

I dont really have a fav, its kind of hard to choose sometimes, but heres a couple of favs :)

21: Pick your least favorite edit you've done LMAO okay, doing a couple again cuz its hard to pick

first two sims have never been shared and I do plan to share them under the unrooleased tag, but anyways I hate the first one cuz of the text. I generally just hate all the pics I took from the second render, I just didnt know what i was doing or how to do the things i wanted to achieve. now LISTEN FOR THE LAST ONE, i know ITS CUTE BUT .... i just hate Leo's facial expression, its not how i want it to look and i couldnt fucking get it to look right, so i gave up on it.

22: is there an edit you didn’t like when you made it but like now?

so surprise surprise its actually my navi post pic, ONLY because the plan for this render was for it to be a like text conversation between an AI and Roo, so Roo is supposed to look annoyed at his phone and I only realized AFTER I finished rendering and got it into GIMP, just how stupid the conversation seems especially since some of the dialogue is supposed to be cut off but that doesnt work over text ykwim, and i ALMOST scrapped it, but I stuck it out cuz I thought it'd be cute idk, then I hated it, now I LOVEEEE it.

I dont think ill ever actually share the intended dialogue, but the AI was supposed to be named ROO - Recondite Ovoidance Overseer, and at the end of my navi post was supposed to be the end of the conversation with Roo commenting "That's not even how you spell Avoidance. Stupid technology." I mainly scrapped it cuz I figured nobody would read it and it doesnt make that much sense 🙃

8: show an unedited screenshot and the finished product

Bringing back the Cataleya render (if you were expecting any TS4 screenshots im sorry 😭😭), honestly all the before and afters of the renders from that post would probably give you whiplash but this is the one that i thought best showed off "before and after" screenshots/renders

9: show us your most recent edit an edit of my own edit cuz I made my laptop Roo themed and I needed a wallpaper version of the navi banner lmao

10: show us your oldest edit okay now THIS one i can get behind because I actually really like my first edit now looking back on it, im also doing a second one cuzzzzz im really proud of it as well looking back on it. My OLDEST oldest edit (the Catty one) was my first blender render as well, that one I used someone else's pose (i dont remember which one) and then my very next edit (of Constance) is where I made my own pose with a reference and it came out pretty nice, the vogue stuff is reallyyyyyy cute I love it, granted there is a LOT of noise on the first vogue one but from faraway it looks rlly good

#are you happy now anon 🫵🫵🫵#lordy that took FOREVER #it took forever bc for some reason if im making a post for too long #tumblr is like ermmmmmm time to log you out!#i also got busy with sumn else but the logout damn near took the piss outta me #yapping

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adultswim2021 · 1 year

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Lowe Country | May 11, 2007 | Webisode/Special

Yes! I’m writing-up Lowe Country! Why?

In addition to the five airing programs that were part of “The Night of 1000 Pilots” there was also this. Lowe Country is a fairly simple idea: A proposed docuseries about various days in the life of Space Ghost voice-actor George Lowe. Just follow George around with cameras and let him be him. We see him have some sort of physical training session, get annoyed in traffic, record some lines as Space Ghost for, I’m guessing, the Volume Two DVD (he states the date is 5/12/04). I genuinely wonder what these recordings are actually used for. Was there a music replacement that required replacement dialogue recordings? Was it actually for a promo or something that I missed? I wonder!

One memorable moment is when George visits a radio station and does his “Wilbur the Love Goat” routine with a couple of receptionists. It’s basically sexual harassment, but they take it in stride and I hope and pray that George doesn’t get #metoo’d. He should maybe make it up to them in some small way if he hasn’t already. Maybe he should give them a nice present? Perhaps a real goat named “Wilbur the Love Goat”? Hahaha, I am making myself laugh so hard right now. You sexually harass women for years and then you make it up to them by bringing them an animal that they have to take care of and somehow share custody of. How can I get this idea to George? The two women call George retarded, which caused me to theorize that if we just let women say the r-slur (the one from before that I didn’t censor; not sure why I did just now) and no one else then that would fix all this stuff.

My friend from 7th grade has “we’re all out for a peanut” as his twitter username, and it’s from this! COOL!

This pilot was unique in that it only ever aired in it’s unedited form as a web-only exclusive. Later it was recreated using a CGI Space Ghost in place of George; I don’t remember if the other people in the video were also CGI’d or not. I don’t think they were? They titled it “Earth Ghost” and it aired later as part of either an April Fools or Daylight Savings stunt. I’m sorry I never go through the trouble of looking up which one it is when I say that. They are basically the same to me.

I do like this, and would hella support an actual series of this. But I don’t feel like I need too many more of these. George Lowe is a treasure and he should just get a salary to be himself weather cameras are rolling or not. You gotta admit I’m right about this.

Okay! Since we’re here, we might as well rank not just the “Night of 1000″ pilots, but also every other pilot Adult Swim ever produced up to this point. I’m going to include Lucy, The Daughter of the Devil, even though it’s eventually going to be a series. Also let’s throw Anime Talk Show in there, why not? Let me know if I forgot something. Please! From worst to best:

The Groovenians

The Finkel Files

The Lewis Lectures

That Crook'd 'Sipp

Captain Sturdy: The Originals

Penguins Behind Bars

Lucy, The Daughter of the Devil

Anime Talk Show

Saddle Rash

The Drinky Crow Show

Spacecataz

Fat Guy Stuck in Internet

Lowe Country

Let's Fish

Welcome to Eltingville

Korgoth of Barbaria

Superjail

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #lowe country

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mimi-cee-genshin · 9 months

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was going to leave a comment on ao3 but i’m logged out and lazy to log in, so here is a ramble of my thoughts after reading ur latest chapter!! (spoilers)

- i appreciate the effort you put in your dialogue sooooooo MUCH. it makes the whole story flow so well. absolutely love the effort and the way you characterise wanderer. it makes him so entertaining to read. not just dialogue for him, tbh. him holding reader’s chin and making her look at him when she was zoning out??? peak wanderer behaviour. and the comment abt her being human because she showed emotion like… i know u probably don’t mean this connect but scaramouche = robot = cried = seem as weak = emotions are human characteristics = scara wasn’t the “robot” ei wanted him to be because he had human characteristics… a stretch, but i like to be delulu!! i love the possible connection between this moment and sacra’s arc. or something. ok nvm.

- reader questioning which is the real scara and the “answer” revealing itself when scara was also concerned for collei’s safety…. oh my gosh???? when i read the question i was like 🤨 & having it be “answered” in the later part of the chapter was so satisfying. i can’t wait to see what else reader discovers about scara.

- nilou’s comment on needlework!!! love the foreshadowing. wondering if reader noticed the similarities between the doll and the boy she saw from scara’s memories??

- current theory: something about reader…. is robot like….. or maybe not but the herbal medicine she drank was for some kind of health issue…. i really wonder what the brother did.

- when reader also had past grievances with ei…… reader and scara are more alike than they think….

loved the new chapter!! thank u for sharing! these thoughts are raw and unedited (unfortunately LOL) — @milkstore

You spoil me way too much with your comments lol. 🥰

- The human/robot thing actually isn't as much of a stretch as you think. I just think that's how Wanderer would think because he's well aware that he's not human.

- About the needlework "foreshadowing" with Nilou, that was accidental. LOL. I added the doll there to remind people that Wanderer does care about people and is concerned about their vulnerability (before he hated the world). I just mentioned Nilou's comment because it was probably something the reader would think here.

- I enjoy hearing your theories 🤭. They help me figure out if I'm leading people the way I want to through the story.

- about Ei and the brother... I can't wait to share that part of the story but more will be revealed closer to the second half of the story. I'm pretty satisfied with how backstory turned out.

- "Reader and Scara are more alike than they think" <- I'll just cryptically leave this here ☺️

Thank you so much for your comment!!! I feel like it's such a rare thing to have invested readers like you, so I'm very grateful to have you as well as others actually reading my stories. :)

#mimi answers #milkstore

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conjuringandinsidious · 2 years

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The Bone-Chilling Terror of Found Footage Horror

One of the most well-known types of horror is Found Footage, classified as any film that is presented as if it were discovered video or film recordings left behind by missing or deceased protagonists. To provide an example, the Vice article entitled The Terrifying True Story of How the Blair Witch Project Was Made discusses its creation and how it became one of the most renowned Found Footage Horror films of the past two decades. Directed by Eduardo Sanchez and Daniel Myrick and premiering in 1999, “Part of what made The Blair Witch Project so groundbreaking is that you never see the actual Blair Witch, and the filmmakers didn’t use special effects to scare audiences; instead, they had genuine reactions from a cast that didn’t know what awaited them in the woods” (Tenreyro, ¶ 3).This film highlights the basis for Found Footage Horror: Raw and unedited content which allow viewers to strongly connect with the characters and truly feel a part of the film. The documentation of events appears natural as opposed to scripted and staged.

Another key Found Footage Horror film from the past two decades is Paranormal Activity (2007). Cecilia Sayad’s JSTOR article entitled Found-Footage Horror and the Frame’s Undoing goes into detail on the production of Paranormal Activity. Directed by a man named Oren Peli, “The temporal structure of some of Paranormal Activity’s shots offers the opportunity to tackle broader questions about the relationship between film and reality, for they touch on Andrew Bazin’s belief that the interpretation of a film or scene should be left to the viewer. The frame, in both handheld and static shots, is as incapable of containing what exists within its territory as it is of protecting it from the invasion of what lies beyond its borders” (Sayad, 49). Similar to The Blair Witch Project, Paranormal Activity causes fear to reach new heights by focusing on evil as a presence lurking among the main characters but never seen. Oftentimes, the anticipation of the scare in Found Footage Horror is significantly more terrifying than the scare itself. This sets the stage for the third key Found Footage Horror film from the past two decades to be discussed: Unfriended.

The title Unfriended itself conveys themes of anger, loneliness, and isolation. Directed by a man named Levan Gabriadze, it follows the story of six teenagers having an evening Skype meeting who are caught off guard when the profile of Laura Barns, a friend who committed suicide after facing continuous online bullying appears. Manohla Dargis’ New York Times article entitled Review: ‘Unfriended’ in the Scariest Ways You Can Think Of highlights the production techniques used for this film to most effectively convey its message. The text recounts that Mr. Gabriadze and his postproduction team “Fixelate, smear and split the visuals, and interrupt and punctuate the dialogue with ominous crackles and static. These manipulations torque the tension and at times forecast other, more substantive violence to come” (Dargis, ¶ 4). This mirrors the sequence in which Laura murdered her former friends: She tortured and killed them psychologically one by one before the audience could witness the gruesome murders take place on each character’s respective Skype screens. Identical to the previous two most significant Found Footage Horror films, the audience is presented with a chilling, seemingly real-life scenario which makes them think twice about venturing into the woods late at night, sleeping with the lights off, or harassing someone they know online.

Sources Used:

https://www-jstor-org.ezproxy.stonehill.edu/stable/44072414?seq=7

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emilyoracle · 2 years

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Your English Teachers Lied To You: Editing Edition.

Part One (Bad Writing Rules Edition).

It took me a dozen+ years of writing to learn how to properly edit- to learn what editing actually entails. Because guess what was never explained to me?

Proofreading is not editing.

So for everyone out there whose English teachers also failed you, here’s a guide to the reality of the editing process. It’s not comprehensive, it’s just to give you a leg up if you, like me, thought “editing” meant changing a few sentences and making sure there weren’t any grammatical or spelling errors. Unfortunately it’s a little (a lot) more involved than that.

First Things First: Write Your First Draft.

Just do it. Know that no matter how hard you try to make this first draft perfect, you are still going to have to edit it. So you might as well save the editing for later and finish the story. And really think hard about starting over half-way through. If you aren’t completely changing the plot or characters, you probably don’t have to. Most everything can be fixed in the next stage:

Developmental Editing.

Look at the story as a whole. Really consider what you want from this story: how you want readers to feel as they go through it, what pacing and atmospheres are required, how you want to portray the world, and how sympathetic or real each character needs to be.

This is a crucial part of editing that I didn’t know when I was younger. You need to look at your (written!) story with intent and make conscious decisions. The first draft came from your heart, the next drafts need to come from your brain. (But if you try to make the first draft come from your brain, you’ll never finish.)

Even once your draft is written, don’t be afraid to rip it apart. It is not a finished product. Think of it as an extended outline; you still have the opportunity to change your mind about plot points, character arcs, world building, etc. Sometimes even the years-long plans that sounded great in your head turn out not-so-great on paper. Do what it takes to make the story the best version of itself, even if that means killing your darlings. (Just make sure to keep an unedited version saved in case you want to reverse any changes.) Keep in mind that you are not done writing. You might still be writing scenes, heck, entire chapters, from scratch.

If you’re having trouble seeing where improvements can be made on a first draft, that very rarely (if ever) means it is perfect and cannot be improved. This is a good time to find beta readers. If you can’t see your story objectively, listen to where and what your beta readers want to see changed and consider why. Try rewriting those scenes and characters accordingly and be open-minded to admitting it improves the story.

The “stages” of editing, by the way, are not one-time acts. You might developmental edit six times, maybe twenty, maybe only once. It depends on the story and its needs, not yours. Don’t change a few scenes and move on because you’re impatient. You want your story to be cohesive and as close as possible to its final form (not its final wording!) when you’ve finished developmental editing. Then you can move on to:

Line Editing.

If the story, as a whole, is the best version of itself, now is the time to look at its individual fibers. That is, the sentences. “Line” editing, right, who saw that coming?

Now is the time to stress about synonyms and word order. This is when you can beautify sentences, dig into that thesaurus, make sure your characters’ voices are unique and consistent.

To be fair, all the processes of editing get a bit mixed up. If you’re fixing some sentences during developmental editing, that’s fine, it’s bound to happen. If you know exactly how you want to change something, then sure, go for it while you’re looking at it. Just don’t stress about it during that stage, because that sentence or paragraph might be chopped entirely by the time you’re done. That’s why you need to be sure you are finished with developmental editing before wasting time tweaking narration and dialogue that might not exist in a few drafts.

In this stage you can finally look at the style of your writing and work on being a good writer, not just a good storyteller. Syntax, narration flow, visceral descriptions… this is the time to polish your writing to how you always imagined it’d be when you win that Pulitzer Prize or Hugo Award.

When you can feel that shiny trophy in your hand as you read your beautiful, lilting prose, now is the time for:

Copy Editing.

This is when you look at the nitty-gritty. Make sure grammar is working to your advantage (whether that means it’s “correct” or not is up to you). Check that no repeated words stand out and important words deliver the impact you want. Pay attention to whether the vocabulary and language matches the genre, world, and atmosphere.

Copy editing and line editing are often shown to be the same thing, and you can very well do both of these at the same time. Line editing as described above will always involve some form of copy editing because it’s a focus on language and style. However, personally, I believe it’s still a good idea to reread your latest draft with detail-oriented specifics in mind. And finally we can move on to:

Proofreading.

This is what you always did two minutes before submitting that essay you wrote an hour before it was due. And it is not editing. And most word processes basically do this for you now. It’s essentially just double-checking that spelling and punctuation are correct and that the manuscript is in the format necessary for whatever its next step is (if you’re querying, that it matches agent or publishing house parameters, if you’re publishing, that it fits the physical book layout, etc).

PSA: The names of these stages aren’t relevant. It’s for the sake of categorization and distinction. Different people seem to have different concepts of what developmental, line, copy editing, and proofreading are. They use different names for the same thing or group two together when others say they’re separate processes. Really, none of that matters. What matters is that you do what you need to do, regardless of what name it’s called.

Don’t forget to write a sentence of your story today! Thanks for reading~

#writing advice #writing tips #writing help #writing resources #writing reference #editing help #editing reference #writing is hard #editing is hard #creative process #writing #writeblr #writerblr

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luwritesomething · 2 years

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Hi! “I’m right here” anon again. Just had an idea. So I’m half white and half Latina. I had this scenario where Maria’s cousin walks in on Riff and Bernardo planning the rumble and just GOES OFF scolding them, especially Bernardo, for being short-sighted and pointing out how stupid the conflict is and how their different backgrounds actually have a lot of similarities. Bernardo believes she’s right and decides it isn’t worth his time. Then Riff being left feeling conflicted and… impressed? Before having that “come to Jesus” moment Mike talks about. Maybe he ends up respecting the reader and watching out for her (secretly) before realizing that he’s sweet on her because she stood up to him and Bernardo simultaneously.

Whew. That was really long and detailed. Anyway, I’m just a sucker for a decent redemption arch. Would you like to write something with that sort of dynamic between the characters? I totally get it if it’s too much. I just really like your writing! Thanks

Riff x Latina!Reader: She knows.

Words: 7665

Reader's pronouns: she/her

Warnings: period sexism and racism, light 2022 vision of the world, reader ahead of her time, riff, non-canon riff, elimination of the original plot, slurs, everything west side story had, really.

edited: no, unedited.

Author's note: HI SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG. thank you for requesting, this request was great and so fun to make. as you can see i really went off with it, but i think ut's worth it because i really tried make it as close as the real riff as the request allowed me. all the dialogues in spanish can be found translated on the comments, were i'll put the translation. also also this is divided in three chapter, under the cut!

( Chapter 1 - Fearless)

You twirled around the gym's floor, smiling wildly as you switched constantly from dancing with your date, that Alberto boy your cousin Bernardo had gotten you for that night, to spinning on your own surrounded by the girls you had either met that very morning or knew already from when you all were in the same neighborhood back in Puerto Rico. The lights, the colors, the music… Everything seemed brighter, jollier. If that was New York, if that was what America truly was, you wanted to stay forever and never leave.

Astonished didn't even bring justice to how you were after walking through your new neighborhood for the very first time. It was all so beautiful, even better than in your dreams! You got to live next to your two cousins, Maria and Bernardo, and you were meeting kind and fun people, surrounded by a pretty view if you ignored those buildings that were being demolished.

Anita had noticed how excited you truly were, the kind of excitement she had suffered back when she had come there for the first time. The kind of excitement she had lost because of the gangs, the violence, the hate, but still the one she, from time to time, had again so she could fight against Bernardo's cruel pessimism against America and americans.

That's why Anita had tried to warn you. Lightly, so it would scare you off because that would be the last thing she would want to do, but Anita had quickly told you about the Sharks and the Jets. She had told you to stay away from the americanos, because they only cause harm, mi niña, and so you did, because you were no one to disobey the friend who was just trying to keep you safe. You were still determined to make sure nothing would ruin New York for you, even though the little fight the Jets had against the Sharks right when you had entered the gym almost made you wonder if something was really going to ruin it. But as the fight evolved into an inoffensive dance off, you relaxed… until now.

The sound of Bernardo's shouting didn't trigger any alarms in your senses, you knew your cousin well enough to know he was keen on raising his voice too often about the littlest things. But as the noise grew bigger and bigger, and some friends of yours stopped dancing, you did as well and approached Anita, who was watching carefully what was happening.

"Ya, tranquilo," was saying Anita to Bernardo, resting her hand on his shoulder and making him step away from a boy you recognized as a gringo, one of those Jets. Bernardo looked mad ", que no pasó nada"

You grabbed Luz's arm next to you, leaning closely to her so you could whisper "¿Qué pasó?"

"Maria," Luz said softly, her eyes glancing at your cousin ", Maria was behind the bleachers with that Jet…"

"And why is that a problem?" you asked as softly as you could, brows frowning, but Luz never got to answer.

A blond boy, tall and slim, another Jet boy, rushed to walk to the other Jet and pat him on the chest to keep him from making a mess. Another blond someone, this time this girl that looked really mad, followed the blond boy.

You shot a glance at Maria, next to Chino but staring at the brunette Jet boy who Bernardo was killing with his glance. You felt Alberto behind you, his hand on your waist, and you shifted uncomfortably. He never took his hand off of you, though.

"I wanna dance, goddamit!" said the blonde girl, directly talking to the blond boy, who looked at her with a raised brow, somewhat between amused and thinking she was going feral for a little thing. You saw a police officer getting closer to where all of you were "Goddamit, Riff! You swore to me you wasn't startin' nothin', you promised we could dance first and then you was only gonna challenge 'em peaceable to a…"

"I'm here to dance, girly girl," interrupted that Riff boy, lazy smile on his lips, hands all over the girl to convince her to calm down ", ain't that what we been do—"

"Challenge who to what?" The police cut him off, hands on his own waist and brows raised suspiciously, staring at the girl, who noticed she had talked too much.

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. You decided to keep your attention in the Jets rather than in Maria, Chino and the other boy "Like I know? Like he tells me anything? Like I give a…"

Your attention then switched to the boy and Maria. He was the one talking "Sure, I mean, thank you for the dance and for…"

From the corner of your eye, you saw Bernardo ready to jump onto the boy again. Using your good reflexes, you put an arm on his chest when he tried to go past you. You were surprised the blonde, handsome Jet boy had reacted as fast as you, standing in front of the other boy to protect him from Bernardo. The other girl was working wonders with the officer, distracting him from the boys.

"Bernardo, Jesús, stop this" you asked, unable to keep your eyes off of Riff, who grinned at you, noticing.

"Yeah, Bernardo, Jesús listen to the señorita" mocked Riff, making you narrow your eyes at him. Then he looked at Bernardo, forgetting you even existed "What say… what say we visit the head? A little pow-pow, friendly-like? You, me, and…" his eyes went up and down your body as he paused, his arm sliding behind the other boy's shoulders. Bernardo tensed at the look he gave you "... my trouble-making friend?"

Your arm fell from your cousin's chest, once you were sure he wouldn't bite them. Bernardo nodded to the Jets and then looked around for Quique and Braulio. As they all dissolved like nothing had happened, Anita forcing Maria to walk away from there, you decided to again approach Luz with the confusion written in your face, also taking advantage of the situation for escaping Alberto, who was nice but you did not like as much as he liked you. Last thing you needed right now, after coming to New York, was men.

Luz almost laughed at you when she saw your confused expression, and she took your hands as she twirled you around her, making your red dress's skirt make beautiful circles. You forced her to stop dancing, glancing at the door where Bernardo and Riff had left. Your heart pounded against your chest.

"¿A dónde se fueron?" You asked, squeezing her hands.

Luz shrugged "To the bathroom, creo. They'll be back soon, no te preocupes, boba"

"But," again glancing at the door, you licked your lips ", what are they going to do?"

"No te metas, Y/N" warned you Luz, catching where you were going with those questions, knowing you too well for you to act like you were just curious.

"Luz, answer"

She sighed "I don't know for sure, but that rubia tonta implied they will plan a rumble" she muttered, giving in. Worry washed her face slowly.

You frowned "A rumble?"

"A pelea, niña"

"That's dangerous"

"That's the point" Luz watched alarmed how you let go of her hands, a serious shadow on your face "Y/N, ¡ni se te ocurra!"

"I'll be right back, Luz, I promise" you said, too worried to look at her so she could make sure you were telling the truth "You just distract Alberto, okay?"

"Fine! But if Bernardo gets mad don't tell him I helped you"

Nodding, you headed to the doors. You knew how those rumbles were and overall, you knew how Bernardo was. Wild, angry, furious… Eager to find someone to blame, someone who he could use as a way of letting his anger against the world come out. You knew how that rumble was going to go. Probably, your kin will get harmed. And the Sharks were the closest thing to family you had now, you couldn't lose any of them, especially not Bernardo. Your bright future in New York wasn't going to be ruined, not if you could stop it. You had to stop that. It was almost an anxious obligation.

Without thinking it twice, you opened the boys' bathroom door and stepped inside, making the six boys—Riff and another two Jets more, Bernardo, Quique and Braulio—interrupt their conversation in a blunt way.

All of them stared at you and you felt tiny under their glances, but you still straightened your back and moved slightly, to avoid the Jets and join the Sharks.

"Get out, ahora mismo, Y/N" ordered Bernardo, rage through his body, as soon as he was able to react. None of them expected a girl, a Shark girl, to walk on them planning the rumble.

"No, you all listen to me, pendejos," you snapped back, your chin going up in dignity, your index finger pointing first at the Sharks and then at the surprised Jets. The Jets raised their brows at how stupid you were for not being like the others and just stay out of it. Riff, though, did not think you were stupid. Reckless? Yeah, maybe. But stupid? Not at all ", ustedes son idiotas si piensan que van a arreglar algo con peleas estúpidas"

Riff scoffed contemptuously, directly at you, putting his hands on his hips "Hey, muchacha? I don't speak fucking cucaracha, so yer better—"

"Stupid fights won't solve things if you don't see the stupid problem" you cut him off, practically barking back at him, crossing your arms. In the end, you weren't as fearless as Riff thought you were, but he didn't have to know that. You did feel kind of intimidated by all of them, even the ones that were your friends. But what it mattered was how confident you looked "And none of you pendejos know the fucking problem, now, do you?"

"Y/N," Bernardo's fingers wrapped tightly against the skin of your arm. If it had been tighter, it would have led to a mark ", leave. No voy a repetírtelo, no tienes ni idea de lo que te estás metiendo…"

"No, Nardo! You're so short-sighted, por Dios, there are other ways of fixing this!" you moved away from him, to keep his fingers off of you, accidentally getting closer to the Jets, so close your shoulder brushed Riff. He smiled at you, dangerously, and you then got away from him, feeling like an idiot. You were losing confidence, and their attention "You listen now. Why can't you see you're fighting for something stupid? Streets aren't property of no one—"

"This street is ours!" exclaimed one of the Jet boys, almost jumping.

Riff snapped his fingers, his smile growing bigger "Action's right, señorita"

"Let me finish, you gringo," you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. Both Action and Ice were surprised he didn't slap you for talking back to him ", what I mean is that is pointless. This street is being sold to richer people. The problem isn't us— or you. It's the rich people. They are taking our homes away from us"

"Last time I checked your ugly island wasn't fucking here" bickered Ice, making you sigh.

"Tu madre sí que es ugly" said Braulio, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You shook your head "You don't get it! You're all so dumb you don't see how they are trying to make us kill each other so they don't have to kill us"

"They?" muttered Bernardo, his attention to you talking growing bigger. Little did he know Riff was feeling the same way. He was even watching you with shiny eyes.

"Sí, them, Nardo" you relaxed when you realized someone was actually listening to you "The rich people. The cops. That cop out there, the one who stopped me today on my way to work—"

"Lieutenant Schrank" spat Quique, and you nodded.

You turned to face the other boys, the ones that weren't convinced by what you were saying "I don't know you, and I'm not sure I want to know any of you," you said sincerely, which made Ice straighten his back and take a step closer. Riff made him stop ", but it's obvious we are more similar than what we can see at first"

"How's that, girly?" asked Riff, his mocking voice still on.

"Isn't this street the only home you have? Isn't it the place where you have all the people you love? Don't you want it to stop from being sold to richer people, from becoming a luxury complex for super rich people?"

The silence allowed you to take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. You were doing good. They were thinking, they were all thinking about what you were saying. Bernardo was looking at you like he had never imagined you could talk like that, Riff was staring at you like he wanted to figure you out.

"They are not our enemy," you continued after that short break, turning your head to look at your friends. You then turned to Riff ", and we are not your enemy"

"Oh, yeah?" said Riff, that smile sliding into his lips, one corner of his lips raising more than the other. Danger. He took a step closer to you, but you didn't move, even though you were intimidated by how tall he was compared to you "And who is our enemy then, bonita?"

Bernatdo tried to get closer to protect you, to make him back down, but you stopped him with a gesture of your hand. The weird thing is he obliged, and only then you realized the power you had over both men in that very moment. That's what made your head lift up, facing Riff like you weren't doubting about taking a step back or not, the tiniest smile sliding into your own lips.

Riff was, to put it bluntly, impressed. Even though you didn't know him or what he had done, you weren't scared of him, and if you were you were hiding it pretty well. You were fearless, and that was worthy of his admiral. After all, you were just some girl, some girl who had had the balls to talk to all of them like that, to try to open their eyes.

"The same ours is," you said, taking your time to reply. Bernardo was impressed as well ", them. The cops and the rich people. Those should be our objectives"

Action scoffed, taking a step closer to you. Riff didn't stop him "You're just some dumb broad! Why should we listen to you?"

"You already are. And because you know I'm right, cariño" you glanced at Action and then at Riff "Am I right? You both know they are who fomented your hate against us, and they are who forced us into hard ways of living, and then hating y'all back for what you do to us"

Braulio grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to them, not liking the way Action was getting close to you "So what, you think we're all gonna be amigos just because you say so?"

"There's no need to fight" you insisted, a shot of hopelessness sliding in your tongue and your eyes. Nobody noticed, except for Bernardo a Riff "Nardo— don't fight. Piensa en mí y en Maria, y por Dios, en Anita. Fighting is unnecessary, the alliance, or at least peace, is necessary"

Bernardo crossed his arms. He glanced at Riff, finding he was already looking at him "Y/N…"

"If you were real men you will solve this the right way, Nardo. Not with stupid fights"

Braulio let go of your arm and Quique shook his head, sighing. Quique would be lying if he said he didn't agree with you "I think you should leave, Y/N. Now we have to talk"

You desperately looked at Bernardo, asking him with your eyes to stop that. To make him think about everything you had said. You looked for the last time at Riff, longer than what you had expected. You couldn't quite figure out what was going through his head at that very moment, and his eyes were so cold it got hard to breathe for you. And then, in silence, you left the bathroom, praying in all the languages you knew for the rumble to not be a thing and for the gangs to stop doing all those awful things to each other so you could all live in peace.

"Some wildflower, uh?" chuckled Riff as soon as the door closed behind you "Maybe you should teach your girlfriends to mind their business. We americans don't like people messing with our things, our deals… you Sharks make like the rats and skedaddle, no wonder why—"

"You wouldn't stop running your mouth even if they paid you, would you, pendejo?" snapped Bernardo, still with his arms crossed. His muscles's bulges were visible through his jacket "My cousin is right"

"What?" said Ice, breathlessly.

"Don't you know English now, gringo?" laughed Braulio, a grin on his face.

"Well, I'm sorry, your mouth is just so full of shit that your stupid, ugly accent is practically little understandable"

Quique stopped Braulio from trying to lunge into Ice, and so did Action with his friend. Meanwhile, Riff and Bernardo were holding a staring contest, or that's what it looked like.

For Bernardo, it was evident Riff was conflicted. He understood it, what were they both supposed to do now? They had been so busy fighting and hating and throwing punches they had never tried to see beyond them, to see what Y/N had been able to see in her first day there. And now they had the solution, right there.

"So no rumble?" insisted Bernardo, knowing Riff wouldn't say anything first, and deciding to take that matter into his own hands.

Riff felt how Ice's and Action's eyes burned a hole to the back of his neck, waiting for an answer "Really?"

"It's not worth my time chase stupid Jets around," Bernardo clicked his tongue, impatiently ", and my boys don't have the time either. We have jobs, you know. And a future. No rumble?" Bernardo held his hand out for Riff to shake. He stared at his hand, standing still "Yes alliance?"

And then, Riff decided "Fine"

( Chapter 2 - Sweet )

It had worked. You weren't completely sure if it had been your speech or God, but there was no rumble and things and attacks between the two gangs had stopped. For people unaware of what had happened at the bathroom, it was almost like a Bible miracle, a Christmas sign of magic, or just an strategy for them all to keep fightning after some calm time. Cops believed the last one, they were completely puzzled.

Bernardo hadn't explicitly told you there was some sort of a peace treaty going on, he hadn't explicitly told that to anyone at all except for Anita, but it was more than evident. Jets' sabotages against Puerto Ricans and their properties had stopped and the reign of terror had stopped.

The Sharks weren't friends with the Jets, but when Officer Krupke and Lieutenant Schrank had tried to blame some innocent Jets for breaking a traffic sign, the Sharks had surprisingly stepped in and protected them like they were part of their crew, like they had been friends for forever. Everything was obviously getting better and you couldn't be more happy about it. Violence on your street had decreased, Anita wasn't that worried about you coming back late to home after work, and Maria was seeing that Tony boy she had met at the dance at the gym. You were finally achieving that dreamed life of yours, even though there was still a long path to walk. Because being a waitress at a bar, at a pub, was not certainly your dream job.

The bell on the door that indicated someone had entered through the pub's door sounded while you were cleaning one of the tables at the back, all disgustingly sticky and stained by drunk men who couldn't drink a beer without spilling it. They had all left the pub just some minutes ago, so maybe that one wasn't exactly a customer but a man who had forgot something.

You turned around to look at the customer, probably the last of the night because the closing time was approaching, and you kind of froze when your eyes met Riff's. Your brain instantly told you to get out of there, Riff was dangerous, he was the leader of the Jets and he only caused trouble. But, then you remembered you had no reason to fear him, because he had no reason to harm you.

First, the peace treaty, as far as you knew, was still something. Which meant he couldn't—more like shouldn't—harm you. And second, you knew he had been watching you. Not in a creepy, scary way but more like a protective way. When you were crossing the road, your hands full of groceries bags, he watched you cross. One night you were walking home after work when you crossed paths with him. He crossed the road to not be on the sidewalk you were on, but he still walked towards wherever you were walking to, and when you found some creepy guys that weren't Jets nor Sharks, he entertained them and you got home safe. His actions weren't something you could easily ignore, especially because he hadn't tried to hide it either. So, whatever his reasons were to kind of look after you, he did have no reason to hurt you, right?

Riff at first couldn't comprehend those stupid things he was doing for you. He didn't like the way he had spent a whole noght thinking about how your name sounded, or the way he couldn't take his eyes off of you when he saw you, or how he was able to recognize you by the way you wore your hair or by your dresses.

He didn't care for you, did he? No, that was nuts. Then why was he looking out for you? That was a mystery he was sure he wouldn't figure out in a million years. It actually took a bottle of tequila and one of those soft, heart-warming talks to Tony for him to figure it out—he was being nice to you because you had stopped the suffering. You, on your own way, had tried to protect both Bernardo and Riff from killing each other. After the way you had scolded them, trying to open their eyes, Riff felt like a scared child. And after all, he was a scared child who had done awfully wrong things out of a pure hatred he didn't feel anymore—he wasn't able to see the point of it now. Riff had entered the biggest crisis of his life after the peace treaty, realizing how many things he had done, so terribly wrong, so many he hadn't even tried to start making things up for it, because how could he? Riff had been a terrible person, he couldn't be forgiven and because of that he sometimes wanted the rage to come back, so he could know what to do. Now, he was just lost.

"You're not gonna to take my order or what?" Riff forced himself to snap out of his own reality and his haunting thoughts, those who made him so anxious, by grinning and teasing you.

Your brow raised, like you didn't believe his rough boy act "You're not old enough to drink, and in here there is only alcohol, Jet boy" still, you took your place behind the counter.

"You're not old enough to serve drinks either, señorita" he shot back, mimicking your brow's position cruelly.

"Well," you shrugged, "a job is a job. And men like a pretty girl, am I right?" you knew that was the reason why you had been admitted into the job.

The pub owner was this Spaniard man in his late forties that liked practicing his Spanish with you and who had actually told you he was hiring you because every good man likes to see a pretty, young face while they drink. The customers came either for you or for the alcohol. You didn't like it, but it brought needed money to your pocket and nothing inappropriate had happened, and that was what it mattered.

"Where's that pretty girl, uh?" chuckled Riff, his light laugh telling you he was just joking.

You played with the pockets on your aprons, holding a smile back "Hum. American humor. Very funny"

"How's Puerto Rican humor?" he grinned at you.

"In Spanish" you deadpanned, your brows twitching slightly when he pointed a beer bottle behind you with his sharp chin. You sighed, but still turned around to get it "You're going to have to pay for that, espero que lo tengas claro"

"I've already told you I don't understand… Spanish" Riff said, cautiously, his hand wrapping around the bottle as you took off the beer's cap. You hummed slightly, noticing how he had taken his time to say something other than cucaracha, or one of those insults they had reserved for your culture.

"I didn't say anything important, really" you assured, leaning back against the cupboard behind you, as you watched how Riff took a long sip out of his beer "Can I ask you a question?"

He scoffed, like he was suddenly annoyed by your presence there, like he hadn't walk in there on his own feet on the first place. Riff eyed you out of the corner of his eyes "Aren't ye already?"

"What are you doing here?" you asked anyway, not caring about his permission, your arms slowly crossing above your chest.

Riff clicked his tongue "I didn't know I couldn't enter a fucking pu—"

"What are you doing around me?" you interrupted him, deciding to rephrase your question, because it really wasn't concrete enough, especially for someone who rambled as much as he did.

You noticed the way his eyes shone as he stared at you, a dangerous glimmer appearing for some short seconds on them. You didn't flicker, nor did you looked away when he took another sip, without looking away from you.

"What, you think I have some special interest in you, uh?" he bitterly asked back, now that making you look away. That was exactly what I thought. Riff almost laughed at himself when he realized he did had an special interest for you "I think you think I'm more sweet than what I really am"

"Oh, believe me, you have no idea about what I think about you," you bickered, as bitterly as he did first, again meeting his gaze ", and you don't want to know"

Riff raised his eyebrow at you "Talk dirty to me, señorita," he dared you to speak, showing you his teeth ", tell me all those pretty things you think I am"

"You're an asshole" you snapped, without realizing that was what he wanted. Riff wanted to push your buttons, and he was getting what he wanted, like he always did. But most of all, Riff wanted you to shut him out of your life, to not give him the opportunity to enter. Because he certainly, for some reasons that escaped him, didn't trust himself around you "You think you're so cool and witty, carajo, te piensas que eres el mejor y que nadie puede tocarte"

"Love it, darlin', tell me more" he encouraged with a loving voice, without stopping from taking occasional sips from the beer.

Riff was getting what he wanted. Oh, no, you couldn't allow that "But…" he watched surprisingly how you let your words linger, like you had fallen into a mixed feelings thought. It was certainly a thought you had about him, and mixed as well "... there needs to be something more to you, ¿sabes? You are sweet, especially if you want to, aren't you, Jet boy? You're a tragedy… you are good, you have to be"

An unsatisfied laugh came out of his mouth as his face slowly grew more serious, letting you know you had turned the tables and you were now the one in control again. Riff looked away to escape from your heated glance, and you ended up looking at your shoes, uncomfortable with the silence. Why did he always have to be an asshole? You hated talking to anyone like that, even if it was him.

"You're wrong," he said when he was able to form his words.

"Am I?"

"Yeah, especially with something you said the other day," slowly, his grin came back to his face. It made you raise your brow, his mood switch had been to fast for you to answer ", you see, you said some things that made sense, but there's this thing— I don't know, girly, I think you're wrong because…"

"Jesus, you never shut up, do you?" you murmured, knowing he was still talking for you to interrupt him. Riff grinned at you "What thing are you talking about?"

Riff tilted his head, staring at you with hungry eyes "You see, you said you didn't want to get to know me"

You shook your head "Don't you have a girlfriend to bother instead of me?"

"Not anymore"

"Well. I'm still sure I didn't say that specifically about you—"

"There's nothing better you could do other than doing me," Riff continued, cutting you off ", I don't think you will ever regret it"

"Oh, yeah?" it was easy for you to mimic the way he had talked to you back in the bathroom, when he was facing you. You even took a step closer, pressing yourself against the counter, leaning in "And why is that, Jet boy?"

"I mean, what's better than an Americano?" said Riff, smirking at you. You didn't flinch when his eyes stared at your lips "It's the best you could ever have, especially better than—"

You shook your head, stopped leaning in and took some steps back from the counter, rolling your eyes "You were doing so good, Riff, but you just screwed the whole thing up"

Riff didn't understand what you were talking about. Then he realized his choice of words hadn't been the best, in fact, they had been pretty unfortunate. He was referring to PRs. He was so used to talking like that, he hadn't even thought the whole thing twice.

"No, wait, fuck—I didn't mean it that way" he said, like he could make you lean against the counter again.

You shook your head again "Yeah, whatever. I'm tired and I'm closing this thing up. Leave, vale?"

"C'mon, don't be like that, señorita," he whined, narrowing his eyes, a smile that tried to ease you on his lips. It didn't fully work. "We were doing so good, weren't we?"

"Out. Ahora"

Riff scoffed at you, like an angry child who couldn't get more cookies. He took the bottle with him, not leaving the money that it cost on the counter, slamming the door shut behind him and really not allowing you to go after him to confront him about the money, which made you sigh.

"Pendejo" you muttered to yourself, trying to bury those conflicted, mixed feelings on the back of your head. Riff was plain evil, that was it. But it didn't mind how much you repeated that to yourself, you didn't believe it.

( Chapter 3 - Trust )

Even though things had changed for all of you, Anita wasn't still allowing Maria to go alone to some specific places—she was too young—, and that's when she didn't even know about her and Tony and how they saw each other on the fire escape suits outside her bedroom.

What was important was what Anita knew, and Anita knew Maria wanted to go to the dance organized at the gym—Glad Hand had been encouraged to organize another dance just a week later because of how the Jets and the Sharks had grown closer in the last week—, and that she wouldn't forgive her if she didn't allow her to go. Letting her go alone was a big no, and she herself didn't want to go because Bernardo and her had activities already organized for that specific night, and she was pretty quick convincing Luz and you to go with Maria to the dance.

Luz was, ironically, full of light and energy and the need to dance—and she also had a partner who she could dance with. You, on the other hand, were pretty tired, had no date because you had refused Alberto's offer to go with you, and if you were there it was because Luz had practically dragged you out of your flat so you could have some fun. You deserve it, mi niña, she has said, but now you were sweating on the bleacher, elbows on your thighs, head on your hands, dressed with that red dress you had already worn, because you didn't have as many dresses as the others had.

You watched how the girls spinned in their skirts, how Maria laughed with Tony, in the center of the gym, dancing slower than what the music indicated, all the other couples dancing at the right rhythm. The girls smiled as they danced with their boys, and when you saw Luz's smile, you couldn't help but smile.

Maybe you shouldn't have turned Alberto down—he was a good man, and he liked you. But you didn't like him one bit, yes, he was a friend and one of yours, but that didn't mean you were romantically attracted to him, and he certainly liked you too much for your dry liking of his. You didn't want him to think you were interested in him.

Luz had laughed at you when you had answered with all that to her question about why you didn't accept the boy's company, and she had told you something about boys and girls that you hadn't quite understood.

Riff watched from one side of the gym how you got up from the bleachers, and the fear of you leaving appeared on his whole being like a tight pressure on his chest he wasn't able to get rid off, even if he wanted. His body reacted faster than his mind, and before he knew, he was reaching out for you in a fast pace.

You were heading towards the tables that had those little water glasses when Rifd appeared from your left and stood in front of you. He looked as confused as you as he stared at you, not quite knowing what he was supposed to do now. You decided to help him start the conversation.

"Jet boy" you greeted, softly smiling at him.

Riff snapped out of his confusion "Hey, señorita," he smirked, tilting his head, taking a look at you from your head to your shoes, not missing one bit ", ya look kinda bored"

"And you're here to change that?" you teased, and eyebrow raised while you dodge him and continued your way to the drinks table.

"Maybe, if you wanted," he said, following you closely, and you had to turn your head a bit to look at him ", you know. You could teach me some of that mambo"

You shook your head, chuckling "This is salsa, chico"

"Isn't it the same?"

"You're being dumb again" you warned, taking one of the water glasses from the table.

Riff was fast to take the glass out of your hand, drinking it all fast in a quick sip that had you between annoyed, surprised and amused "Thank yer for that, sweetheart, I was so thirsty"

"You're unbelievable, Riff"

"Oh, so you do know my name?" Riff's brow shot upwards, staring at you.

"Why wouldn't I know your name?" you asked, taking another glass and this time drinking it yourself.

"Dunno," he smiled. It was a smile, a sweet smile, not his teasing grin ", since you always call me Jet boy?"

You shrugged "You always call me señorita"

"Not the same"

"Why wouldn't it—"

"So," Riff cut you off abruptly, looking around him like he was searching for someone ", did you come here with a date?"

You looked away when he stared back at you "Why do you care?"

"I don't, really," he said, chuckling. You looked at him, every second understanding him less and less "Just wanna know if I'll get my ass beat if I ask you for a dance"

You definitely understood him less and less with every second passing. However, his words made you smile softly, forcing you to look down at your shoes to try and hide that dumb smile.

When you looked up at him again he was still staring at you, smiling down at you with that sweet, new smile you had been able to discover.

"I don't think someone beating your ass will ever stop you from doing things" you said, not answering his initial question, which he noticed.

He stared at you with an intensity that didn't exactly make you uncomfortable, but rather awkward. And then, he frowned "Wait, so you do have no date? I ain't believing that! No way!"

He wasn't insulting you but you felt like he was by the way he was saying it. Your smile dropped and disappeared from your face, getting all defensive "Fuck off, que te den" you started walking away from him.

"Hey, hey— Wait, Y/N!" Riff rushed again to follow you, but you did not stop when he reached you. He had to grab your arm to get you to stop walking "I wasn't laughing at you, really. I just find it hard to believe you have no date, that's all"

You stared at him, now feeling dumb for misunderstanding his words, and eased by his new ones "So you do know my name"

"What?"

"You just said my name," you said, a corner of your lips rising in a sided smile ", I thought you didn't know it"

Riff smirked "So. Am I gettin' that dance or not?"

He held out his hand for you to take, letting go of your arm. You stared at his white hand, waiting for yours, and then glanced back at his eyes. Riff was looking at you softly, like he didn't want to scare you off. He really didn't want to.

You were starting to raise your hand so you could take his when Luz appeared by your right side, twirling, and grabbed that hand you were already raising, then shout ¡Baila, Y/N! before dragging you away from Riff, making you spin with her and leading you to the center of the gym with the other girls, so you could dance to the new, more energetic and familiar as in latin-like music.

Even though at first he felt completely pissed off by that girl interrupting you two, Riff watched how you started dancing with your friends, forgetting about him and deciding to have a good time for once, and it almost made him smile.

He watched how that girl made you dance with her like you were a couple, and how you later made Maria join you all, making all the other girls laugh as they danced. Maria made Tony dance with them, and slowly the girls started to force their dates to dance with them back again. Some brave Shark girls dared to invite Jet boys to dance with them—and thanks to the treaty, they accepted. Riff grinned when he saw you coming for him, a wide smile on your lips.

"What are ya doin'?" he asked you, almost giggling, when you slide your hands into his, dragging him back to the center of the gym.

"Baila, Jet boy!"

And boy did he dance. He was better at it than what you would have imagined, his hands on your body felt like something that just belonged there, on your waist, on your hand, on your hip, sometimes maybe even on your leg when you two got too bold with the kiks and the turns, and the getting too close to each other.

You found yourself unable to stop smiling during the whole dance, and Riff found himself enjoying the way your face lit up every time your smile covered your face. He made it his personal goal to make you smile through the whole dance, bonus points if he could get you to laugh.

Neither of you had realized how passionately and energetically you had danced until, when the music slowed down, letting a romantic, slow piece for the couples in love, and you leaned against his chest, resting your head on his chest. Riff leaned you even closer, his hands resting on your waist as your head brushed his cheek. You two breathed against each other, trying to get your normal heart rates back.

You felt Riff's heart pound against his chest, and only then you realized you were almost over him, like all the other romantic couples were dancing. That made you nervous.

"I think I need some air," you muttered, taking a step back and leaving his shoulder naked without your forearms there.

Riff nodded, realizing the image you two should be giving for the people looking at you "We can go outside, if you want?"

"Sí"

You didn't move when he took one of your hands on one of his, and you two went outside like that, you not quite figuring out why would he ever want to hold you hand. You couldn't already try to think a reason for why he would ever want to dance with you, you, a Puerto Rican, someone he had hated and chased.

You two leaned against the brick walls outside the gym, letting the cold air hit against your faces, him on your left, silence between you, a silence that wasn't awkward but wasn't comfortable either.

You shivered when Riff turned his face to you, his fingers catching your chin. His eyes shone softly, warmly. You didn't have time to react, his grip pulled you closer and way sooner than later, his lips were kissing yours, way softer than you would have imagined his lips to be. Wonderful, that's how his kisses were. It took you some seconds and all of your mental strength, but you were finally able to react, putting your hands on his chests and gently pushing him away.

"No, Riff" you whispered, shaking your head.

He grimaced, not liking your reaction, but keeping his distances "Right, fair enough"

"I just don't understand you" You sighed, frustrated, avoiding his look "Not even a week ago you were willing to kill us and now—"

"Hey, I ain't killing nobody, not now not yesterday" he snapped, staring at you coldly, unlike how he had looked at you before.

You shook your head "Don't play indignant with me, chico, you knew what I meant"

Riff shook his head, and then sighed. You hadn't realized how exhausted he looked until now. The wrinkles under his eyes were big, almost as big as Bernardo's were. How much pressure had a gang leader on his shoulders? You didn't exactly know, but it was probably too much…

You would never know either that Riff had spent days arguing with the most rebellious Jets, those who didn't understand his decision of stopping to chase the PRs. He was forced to shout, curse and slam his fists against tables and walls, to make them listen to him. Who would have told anyone peace was so complicated?

"Look, ye already said it, girly," he said, rolling his eyes, making you look at him ", we've only known this street. Y'all started coming and coming…"

"You had no right to do anything you did," you interrupted, that fearless look in your eyes. He opened his mouth to talk back, but you didn't allow him to ", don't do the whole speech, Riff, 'cause I won't buy it. I know better. We've had it rough too, vale? It's no excuse"

Riff clicked his tongue, not taking his eyes off of you "Then what the fuck do you want me to do? Uh? I ain't good, and I'm not being forgiven, and I can't go to the past"

"Tell me the truth, then"

The way you faced him almost made him lose his breath. Your eyes shone in a softer bright, one different from your fearless look. It almost made him soft.

"What truth?" he whispered, intensely tearing back into your eyes.

You blinked "The truth. If you could go back, would you change what you did?"

Riff raised an eyebrow at you "And how do you know I ain't lying to ya?"

"You want me to trust you or not, bobo?"

Riff stared at you, not understanding you or the shine in your eyes, which encouraged him to trust you, encouraged him to open up like he never had, a shine that was absolutely driving him crazy.

You were already thinking he wasn't going to answer, that you would have to go back into the gym realizing you were wrong about him, when he slightly smirked.

"I would," Riff cleared his throat, his voice suddenly hoarse and lower than usual, looking away ", yeah. I would change things"

Your gaze softened at his words "For real?"

"Yeah" he said, nodding "For real. I guess"

You searched for his hand, locking your fingers together, feeling how rough and calloused they were against you. Is not like yours were exactly velvet but still.

His fingers brushed gently against yours and your head tilted back so you could look up to him, your lips pursing together as slowly as they could.

"Te creo" you murmured, not taking your eyes off of his.

"Does that mean kiss me in spanish?" he asked, slightly grinning, taking a step closer to you.

You felt his hand going to your waist, and you grinned back "Try me"

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tagged;; @hellomikefaist

#riff #riff west side story #riff wss #wss riff #west side story riff #west side story #wss #wss 2021 #west side story 2021 #riff x reader #riff lorton #riff x latina reader #writing #my writing

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blushingbucky · 2 years

Text

you are in love, true love | b.b.

alternatively titled - bucky barnes falling in love with his best friend.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 1.4k

summary: bucky never imagined he would find the love of his life in his roommate.

warnings: roommates!au, unedited writings, heavy dialogue, she/her pronouns, mentions of food, a possibly ooc bucky, slightly obscure pop culture and music references (iykyk)

author’s note: the combination of my listening to 1989 in hopes of its re-recording and the need to write something other than angst resulted in this little series of blurbs. I haven’t written for Bucky in a while, so hopefully this is all still in character ? anyways. this fic is actually really personal — it references my favourite movies, the songs I listen to, things I would actually say in real life. please keep that in mind before you share your thoughts in the comments and reblogs <3

Your hands fiddle with the top button of your coat, twisting it back and forth. Was it too much?

You turn side to side, staring into your too-small mirror. The white blouse and black dress pants caressed your figure perfectly, and those black heels didn’t pinch your toes. A well-chosen, respectable, elegant outfit for a job interview. You just couldn’t make up your mind on that damn blue coat.

“Buck?” You call out, and a moment later he’s opened the door of your bedroom. “Do you like the coat?”

He hummed, eyes darting from the coat to the mirror, and back again. “That depends. You going for a Paddington bear look?”

“Buck,” you hiss, turning around to swat his arm. His laugh is loud as he steps aside, dodging your attack. Even with your stress, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at his laugh.

“Sorry, sorry! What about Rick Blaine?” Bucky arches his eyebrows with a grin, and you laugh at the reference.

“Interesting references. Do I have Sam to thank?”

“Hey, someone had to show me the classics.”

Your laugh fades as you stare down at the coat again. “So, no coat?”

“No coat,” Bucky takes your hands in his, flesh hand warm, metal fingers cool. “You look stunning.”

. . .

The hour of midnight is quiet, the road almost completely deserted, headlights lighting up the dark. Your head rests against your propped arm, staring at Bucky’s hand as it shifts the gears. Adele’s cover of ‘Make You Feel My Love’ plays from your Bluetooth, as he drives you home.

“I’m happy for them,” you murmur in the dark. Steve and Nat’s housewarming was a small affair, but the excitement left you drained. Their apartment was slightly larger than yours, with space in the living room for Steve’s drawings and close proximity to a gym.

Bucky turns his gaze from the road to your exhausted figure, nodding in agreement. “Me too.”

The comfortable silence is broken a few minutes later, when he murmurs, “Look up.”

Your hand brushes his grip on the gear stick as you shift, eyes focused on the road.

Instead of turning right into one of the many streets leading to your apartment, Bucky continues down the freeway. You open your mouth in confusion, with understanding taking its place as the golden arches of McDonald’s come into view.

“Figured you might want some hash browns, maybe a coffee?” His voice is tentative, and you wonder why he remembered such an insignificant detail about your midnight cravings.

If you weren’t careful, you just might fall in love with this man. Your reply is soft, almost lost to the night as Little Mix’s ‘Change Your Life’ starts. “I’d like that.”

. . .

The knock to your bedroom door is soft, but it reverberates through your already-throbbing head.

You groan, “Go away, Buck,” and turn onto your other side in the hope of falling back to sleep. But your thin curtains don’t keep out the morning light, the lump in the mattress presses into your ribs, and the door opens anyway.

“Made you breakfast.” Bucky’s voice is rough, indicating he himself didn’t wake up too long ago.

The harsh smell of burnt toast offset by sweet coffee floods your senses, forcing you to sit up and acknowledge his presence. “You call burnt toast breakfast?”

“That toaster is going to be the death of me… that is, not if you kill me first.”

Your glare softens as you reconsider — he made you breakfast. In bed. Unprompted. The least you can do is try to choke down the meal. Bucky wrote a smiley face with the butter, and the coffee’s in your favourite mug. Being sick had its perks.

“My ma would make us a special breakfast when we were sick, and I just thought it would be nice.” Bucky’s eyes won’t meet yours, and your heart softens with the mention of his family.

“It is nice.” You push up the sleeves of his shirt you’d been using as pyjamas, and take a sip of the coffee. “Thank you.”

. . .

“Doll, what are you doing?”

You look up from hanging the bed sheet over a stack of chairs, accidentally loosening your grip on the corner and dropping the damn thing on the floor. “Trying to build a pillow fort, which would be a lot easier if you hadn’t just made me drop that sheet.”

“Ah. What movie?” Bucky nods in understanding, mind already trying to calculate what memory resurfaced for you to have deemed tonight a pillow fort night. He drinks in the sight of you, desperate for details in more ways than one — hair tied back, pyjamas, with the fluffiest socks you own pulled over your feet.

It’s this you, right here, the you that’s reserved just for him. The you who sings in the shower and writes reports at 3 am and steals the last cup of coffee. This was the first side of you he fell in love with, the rest falling into place like dominos. His unfiltered, bright-eyed, messy-haired best friend who builds pillow forts when she misses her family.

The sheet falls into place, and you step down to admire your handiwork. “Do you need to ask?”

Bucky unravels the fairy lights from their place on the kitchen table, giving you a soft smile. “Tangled it is.”

“I think you’re my best friend,” Bucky blurts out in the third run of Tangled, lips loose from exhaustion and brain slightly fuzzy from the Asgardian wine.

Your giggles end with an abrupt, “What?”

“Well, yeah, I mean… Steve and I… he’s my brother. And Sam is Sam, and Becca was Becca, and… I don’t know. Every time I turn around, you’re there, watching my six.” He sighs, turning onto his side to face you. “And besides, isn’t the job description of a best friend forcing the other to watch their favourite movie on repeat?”

You flick his nose, but he catches your fingers with his own, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His mouth is soft, barely brushing your skin, but your body betrays you, shivering despite the warm air.

With fairy lights twinkling above you, stomach full from one too many glasses of wine and Bucky’s hand in yours, you fall asleep to ‘I See the Light’.

. . .

The kitchen light is low, but you don’t need a spotlight to dance. You’re exhausted and a little tipsy, and frankly not exactly sure how you got here. All you know is Bucky’s arms feel like home, and you’re so damn grateful you answered his ad for a roommate.

He’s humming a simple melody, so faint your ears can barely catch it and your brain can comprehend it, but you don’t need music to dance. His voice is low, deep, smoothing the rough edges of his monotone, rising and falling as his tune builds. With a lift of his hand, Bucky guides you in a gentle twirl, before you fall back into his arms.

You tuck your head beneath his chin, against his chest, and feel the huff of his breath against your hair. Softly swaying back and forth, back and forth. You could stay in his embrace forever. Bucky presses a kiss to the top of your head as his humming fades, until the two of you are silently swaying in the dark.

. . .

The fluorescent lights in the grocery store are harsh against his eyes, yellow sale labels too bright, and he can hear your teasing voice. “This is why I do the shopping, Barnes. Can’t trust you to find the plums from the pears.”

He finds the plums easily enough, thank you very much, and places them into the plastic bag with care. Two cartons of milk, a packet of spaghetti and a carton of your favourite cookie dough ice cream later, Bucky’s order is being checked out by a worker.

Bucky pulls out his wallet with his flesh hand, grabbing out a 20-dollar bill to pay for his items. Before he closes the leather, his eyes catch on the picture of you he’d kept. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back in a laugh, his metal arm holding you up.

“Got yourself a girl there, hey?” The worker jokes, and Bucky smiles as he slides the wallet back into his pocket.

“My best friend, actually.”

“Guess she’s lucky to have you.” Barry, the name tag reads, hands him his items and receipt.

The smile doesn’t leave his lips as Bucky answers, “I’m lucky to have found her.”

. . .

You can hear it in the silence

You can feel it on the way home

You can see it with the lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws blurb #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #roommates au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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