10 block radius

Sing | Rucas OneShot


♫ You walked into the room and now my heart has been stolen
You took me back in time to when I was unbroken
Now you’re all I want
And I knew it from the very first moment
‘Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again

I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me
Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me
When the lights come on and I’m on my own
Will you be there to sing it again?
Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories
Can I be him? ♫

Lucas zoned out the background music as he made his way around the coffee shop, wiping down the tables and collecting any dishes that were left behind. This was his fourth night in a row working the closing shift and while he could think of 100 other things he’d rather be doing he was grateful for the hours considering he’s been trying to save up enough money to buy a car for months now.  

His manager Rod, looking to make more money, thought it would be a good idea to have certain time slots during the day where customers can come in and perform for a small fee. It was a chance for aspiring musicians to share their talent and let their voices be heard. Only problem was with 20 other open mic nights and karaoke bars in a 10 block radius this diamond in the rough of a coffee shop was hardly on anyone’s radar. The reality was if anyone desperately wanted to share their talent, this wasn’t the place to do that.  

Closing time was near and Rod had told Lucas earlier in the day that they finally had a person set to play during the closing shift. So far everyone who did sign up were just Phoebe Buffay wannabes or obnoxious kids just looking for attention. They had yet to hear someone with real talent and even though Lucas knew better than to hold out hope, Rod was sure this person was the one to break their cycle of weirdos.  

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If It's Meant To Be It Will Be [Anthony Ramos x Reader]


The author asked that they remain anonymous, and I’m respecting their wishes, but feel free to show them your love with this fic by liking and reblogging bc this is seriously so adorable.

- If formatting is weird, feel free to change some stuff around. Could I stay anonymous as well?? I’m not really confident in this and nervous since I’ve never put anything up here before. Also if you don’t really like it or don’t want to post it, I completely understand! Thank you :) -

It took approximately 25 minutes after entering the club for you to lock eyes with him and approximately 5 seconds of locked gazes for him to stalk towards you through the dancing crowds.

“Hi” the boy said with a smirk, “I’m-”

“No names.” You cut him off before he could spoil this for you. “If you want tonight to work, I have one condition- I don’t want to know your name and you don’t want to know mine.” You continued and stood there staring him directly into his eyes, taking notice of the seemingly infinite amount of freckles that adorned his face.

He stood there for a minute, smirk completely dissipated while he processed the offer you threw at him. After hesitating, his mouth twitched up at the corners and took a look at your lips that were painted a blood red.

“Wanna dance?” He asked and with that, you grabbed his hand and made your way to the dead center of the club.


Out of breath, the two of you leaned back in bed, entangling the sheets around you to cover up your bare, sweating bodies.

The sounds of panting eased and you felt his eyes on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice surprisingly small broke through silent air.

“As long as it isn’t my name, you can ask me anything.” You responded stealing a sideways glance at the boy to see him staring directly at you.

“What’s the deal with the name thing? Do you just like mystery?” He inquired not once looking away.

You sighed and shifted a little in the bed, fixating your eyes on the ceiling, absentmindedly taking in the details.

“There’s less of a chance of attachment if we know each other’s names.” You started knowing he’d have follow up inquiries. “You can’t think back to that time you had a thing with someone named so-and-so, they’re just a face to you. They can’t mess with you or fail you if you don’t even know their name and form an attachment. No disappointment if there was no strong bond in the first place.” You finished, still staring at the ceiling and grasping the sheets to your chest.

“So you don’t want any attachments to anyone?” He pushed on and you turned your head to the left and looked at him, shaking your head.

“No, I’m not saying no to wanting attachment or a relationship. I just am trying to limit getting my hopes up that someone is the one or something special when they just weren’t meant to be. You could say I’m trying to let fate take hold. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be in the end.” You turned your head back to the ceiling and awaited his response.

You felt his head shift as he turned to examine the ceiling with you.

“I can’t not call you anything.“ He stated and let out a breath. “So I’m calling you ‘Red’ since your lips are the first thing I noticed about you.” He finally spoke out and you let out a small laugh.”

“Alright, freckles.” You responded giving him his title.

“So, I can ask anything? Just not your name?” He questioned, giving you a sideways glance.

You nodded your head turning to smile at him. His mouth turned up into a huge grin and with that, the night had truly begun.


“This is the most important question in the world! It says a lot about a person in whether they prefer pancakes or waffles!” You shout at the boy who was leaned up against the headboard. You had shifted awhile ago to sitting cross-legged facing him when you reached onto the bedside table for the nearest article of clothing which happened to be his blue shirt.

He threw his arms up - “Alright, fine! Waffles!” He laughed out and looked at you expectantly. You slowly nodded your head at him, approving of his answer.

“Good choice. But french toast wins everything.” You answered and smiled.

He shook his head and laughed at you. “Favorite color?”

“Blue. But 75% of my wardrobe is black so take that as you will.” You responded shifting your body to lay your head down as it started to feel like it had weighed 5x more than it usually does.

“Favorite place to go and unwind?” You asked while shutting your eyes, taking a break from the small light in the room emitting off the bedside lamp.

“Home- Puerto Rico. I like the beach a lot and it’s a break from the non-stop go of New York.” You hummed a response signaling your acknowledgement of his answer and awaiting his next question.

“How many people have you done this with?” He quizzed while also shifting his body to lay down.

You let out a sigh “You’re the first.” You opened your eyes and stared into his in which you couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind them.

“I haven’t lied to you tonight nor do I have a reason to.” You followed up and shifted again to get more comfortable and shut your eyes another time.

“Coffee or tea?” You breathed out as your consciousness was slowly slipping away. You heard him talking, but only registered it as mumbles before you were completely gone.


The sun blared through the apartment windows, causing your eyelids to squeeze shut in an attempt to protect your eyes from the harsh light.

You had ended up curled on your side facing the freckled boy while he lay sprawled out on his stomach.

You smiled at him and looked around as you realized this was your best chance to get out with the least temptation of breaking your pact you made with yourself - don’t form an intentional attachment with this boy.

You crept out of the bed successfully and attempted to get dressed as quietly as you could. You folded his blue shirt that you had borrowed and placed it on the bedside table and went to grab your purse to head out when you heard shifting on the bed.

You smiled as his eyes fluttered open and his face twisted in the confusion of just waking up.

“You’re serious about this name thing aren’t you?” He inquired with a hint of disappointment laced in his voice.

You softly nodded. “Give it a chance. If you’re meant to be with someone, your paths are destined to cross multiple times. Try believing in signs.” You mused and gave a small smile.

“I hope I cross your path again, Red.” He stated, digging the side of his face deeper into his pillow.

You only nodded and reached for the door handle, leaving his apartment and forcing yourself to not take notice of his address to erase any possibility of you returning here for any reason other than chance.



You stood in line at the store, items lined up on the conveyer belt. You were absentmindedly staring at the stand of magazines by the check out when you heard a familiar voice nearby.

You looked up and around, scanning to find someone familiar in the other check-out stations. Your eyes locked on a boy with curly hair wearing a red flannel. Your eyes stayed glued to the back of his head as he finished up paying and turned around to leave the store.

He glanced around and when his eyes met yours, his mouth slowly turned up into a wide grin.

He waited while you finished paying for your items and you walked over to him by the door.

“Hey, Red.” He said, shifting his body to lean against the wall.

“Freckles.” You smiled back, mimicking his body language.

“So, it looks like we meet again.” He pointed out. You knew what he was inferring, but shook your head.

“I’m going to need a little bit more evidence than meeting at the only Target within a 10 block radius..” You laughed out and adjusted the bags in your hand.

He laughed and straightened up properly. “What?! This is totally paths crossing! This is a sign!” He mused as you slowly walked past him and turned around, but kept stalking out backwards.

“If it’s meant to be Freckles, it’ll happen again!” You quickly spun around and walked out, smiling to yourself as you walked to your car.



You groaned as you realized you were running later than you thought to your job. Things weren’t going well at work and it was to the point where you dreaded getting up in the morning because of it.

As you were trying to leave the small café a few blocks down from your office, you ran directly into the back of the person in front of you, spilling some of your coffee in the process.

“Shit! I am so so sorry, I didn’t get coffee on you did-” You stopped mid-sentence when you looked up to see a boy with a head full of curls and when he turned around, a face full of freckles.

Your mouth twitched up when you saw the boy grinning down at you.

“Freckles.” You stated, shaking your head.

“I don’t think you got coffee on me, but you may have bruised my shoulder.” He laughed out and you cracked an even bigger smile.

“I’m sorry. Something you didn’t learn that night is how clumsy I am.” You said while straightening your work clothes and trying to hide your blush.

“Alright, this is a small café far enough from where we met that you have to take a train. This has to be a sign - can I please have your name now?” He pleaded and you slowly shook your head.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out, but then gave a soft smile. “Just wait. If-”

“It’s meant to be, it will be.” He finished for you and looked down at his shoes.

You leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing him to look up into your eye.

“I hope I see you around, Freckles.” You whispered and side-stepped by him and continued walking to work.

“Please be him.” You whispered to yourself and continued on with your day.



You nervously fidgeted with your blazer, anxious to meet your new co-workers. You had dressed up, not really sure about the type of environment working for a broadway company would entail.

You had left your old job when you were recruited by the manager of a theatre on broadway, The Richard Rodgers Theatre. At the time, the show Hamiltonresided there and looked like it had no means of going away with all the popularity it had generated. The theatre was benefiting immensely from the show and you weren’t quite sure why they needed you when business was so good, but you took the offer to help finance the theatre when it gave you the opportunity to leave your old job.

“Ms. (Y/LN), this is Lin-Manuel Miranda, the creator of Hamilton.” Your new boss introduced the two of you and you shook his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, the success of the show is incredible.” You commented and he laughed.

“Thank you! I wasn’t really sure what to expect when creating the show, but the response is amazing.” You smiled as he continued on.

“The cast hasn’t started arriving for tonight’s show yet, do you want a look around?” He asked and you nodded your head eagerly.

Lin took you throughout the theatre from the view of the audience vs. the view on stage to all the passageways backstage.

You were walking down the hall listening to his story about the cast’s work in adapting to performing on broadway, when a voice snapped your attention away from him.

“Red?” The boy with curly hair and an infinite amount of freckles stood down the hallway looking at you questioningly.

You laughed lightly while shaking your head, fixing your gaze for a moment on the wall next to you, only to return your gaze back ahead of you and the boy still standing there.

“Freckles.” You breathed out, disbelief heavily present in your voice. He smugly smiled and before he could say anything, you began to walk towards him.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/LN).” You extended your hand out to the boy, grinning madly.

His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning as he shook your hand.

“Anthony Ramos.”  

anonymous asked:

I'm a white person who lives in Surrey, and honeslty the way you Punjabs shut down all Surrey really annoys me. Like I can't imagine us doing this to you what you do to us in April.

Ummm….December? The ENTIRE COUNTRY shuts down for Christmas? 

You can deal with the 10 block by 4 block radius that we shut down for half a day once a year.

anonymous asked:

Feeling morally obligated to spend every holiday with my family. Even though my momma, her 4 sisters, maw maw, nana, uncle earl, and all my cousins live 5 house down from me or within a 10 block radius of grandma's house. But the food be good and the music be live. Second lines and all.

Dying at “morally obligated”

We gotta see each other on the holidays otherwise you gotta be dead. You notice that? We ain’t seen each other in a while, somebody guaranteed to say, “damn, she/he ain’t dead?” “They still alive?” Idk prolly some real sobering history in that but it’s funny to me now.