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ordin-arily · 1 year

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Ghosts, Goblins, and Good-for-Nothings

i was intending to keep my tumblr for requests alone but please enjoy this halloween drabble in the spirit of spooky season! 🎃🖤

Notes: fem reader, 2nd person pov, language, mentions of street harassment

Halloween is on a Monday this year. It’s not great for trick-or-treaters—never is on a school night—but for every other enthused fan of the holiday? This means three days of non-stop festivities.

Saturday in its entirety is booked to the brim with plans for pumpkin carving, hayrides, costume contests and, later in the night, throwing back October 31st-themed shots 'til you puke orange and purple sparkles.

Sunday morning is for recovery and what Leo dubbed Boo-zy Brunch in the group chat. Pumpkin Pancakes, Candy Corn Crêpes, Witch’s Brew (re: coffee), AHH-vocado Ghost, and Devilled Eggs are all on the revamped menu at Pepe’s for the season—and how could you possibly do without a few Bloody Marys? (The words come from Mikey because you can fair just fine without that tomato juice concoction monstrosity. And, come to think of it, you’ll probably be so hungover the mere smell of alcohol will be enough to deter you regardless of the potion it comes mixed in.)

Sunday afternoon is reserved for horror movie marathoning and engorging on the candy meant for some infant-sized ghosts, goblins, and ghouls ringing your doorbell the following evening, which is a dangerous game because they promise tricks without the tempting of treats.

These plans had been months in the making and you couldn’t have been looking forward to it more. Still, this left you with a vacant slot on Friday night. The spot blinked at you on your calendar mockingly, like a neon sign on its last leg. How could you not have plans with anyone else?

In hindsight, you probably should have begun asking around a little earlier than the day of. You love the Mad Dogs—obviously—but two back-to-back days are probably about all the celebrations you can manage.

You send out a few texts after class and plan to try some more on your commute home.

Nothing of the sort transpires.

You end up walking through your front door sort of dazed and out of it, lost somewhere inside yourself.

You’re not sure how much time passes where you sit motionless on your couch, feeling just as trapped as you did on the subway fifteen minutes ago. Eventually, you get up to change clothes. You fish out your favourite seasonal crewneck from a bottom drawer. It’s soft and comforting and it has the words Halloweentown University plastered across it with an outline of the famed pumpkin at the centre. It’s your best attempt at saving face, if only for yourself.

You peel out of stiff jeans next and replace them with plaid sleep shorts. It’s not the most cohesive outfit—especially not with a full face of makeup and all your jewelry still on from the day—but it makes you feel better than you did before so you leave it on.

Your feet shuffle slowly, numbly, one foot in front of the other until you reach your living room couch again and smooth your fingers over your phone screen absently. It’s already dark out with only one sliver of teal haloing the horizon. You mull over sending out another text.

If you’re being honest with yourself, there’s only one person you really want to see. It’s becoming more and more of a regular occurrence and you try not to beat yourself up over it too much. He’s good at making people laugh and you like to laugh.

The odds of him being free this short notice are slim but you shoot him a message anyway and stare off into space until his response comes.

Miraculously, he thinks an early movie marathon at your place is an awesome idea and asks if you’ve already eaten. You lie and he tells you great, he’ll just bring snacks then.

Somehow, that little text bubble makes it easier to breathe (and think and move) and you get up to toss a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You wonder if he’ll beat the timer.

Leo, never one to lose a challenge, indeed proves successful. His circle of cerulean light appears just six seconds before your microwave bellows at you.

You're pouring the bag out into a large bowl as you greet him in the most uplifting manner you can muster. You fall into light, engaged conversation—mostly about the snacks he opted to bring—and, before long, the two of you end up buried alive in wrappers, Cheeto dust, and popcorn kernels.

You try to keep concentration on the TV screen, you do. Leo's laughing and making comments that you would find downright hysterical—possibly some of his best material yet—if you had it in you to listen, but your mind continues to derail, veer off course, sink into terribly murky waters below.

You’re drowning by the time he pulls you up to surface.

The screen is paused and you have to focus on it for a few seconds to remember you’re supposed to be enthralled in the campy 80s thriller he picked out. Leo’s eyes are trailed on you, like he’s gathering all the info he can just by sizing you up.

“Sorry, what?” you have to ask.

Leo’s brows knit further. “I asked what was wrong. You seem… I dunno, distracted.”

He’s right. You hadn’t even noticed him grab the remote to pause the film, forget trying to recount any of the plot.

He’s been observing you for the last little while—the way you seem so far away.

Hollow stares don’t suit you.

You shrink a little. “No. Sorry. I’m good. Just, uh… It was a long day, you know?”

He throws an arm around the back of the couch and angles his body more openly toward you. A silent invite.

You sit there in the dark for a long moment. The silver glow reflecting off the colour of his skin makes for something supernaturally beautiful but this observation is merely a form of stalling.

A small, defeated breath wilts your posture. “Some guy kept taking pictures of me on the subway today and, honestly, I’ve just been kind of mentally fucked by it. It’s so stupid but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“He did what?”

You have to fixate your gaze on one of the empty bowls on your coffee table to keep your face from twisting, but the tears are already forming and they don’t yield for anyone.

April is tougher and more resilient than you—you know this—but you kind of take pride in coming in a close second. You’re loud about injustice and rant and rave about pet peeves all the time. Mostly for comedic purposes, sure, but you like to think you’ve got a backbone built from the same stuff as hers. A similar brand of gall that has the two of you teaming up to fight… whatever it is that needs to be fought, really. Suddenly, you wonder, not without a payload of shame, if maybe April’s been doing most of the heavy lifting this whole time.

“I should’ve put my hand around his neck and told him to delete them but I just sat there like an idiot until it was time for me to get off."

You can feel the mascara and eyeliner getting into your eyes and it makes all of this a lot more uncomfortable. Though, still not quite as uncomfortable as you felt today so you decide this is fine.

Your fingers reach high to tug at the elastic holding your half-up bun in place, if only to give yourself something to do.

You don’t get to fuss a ton before Leo’s wrapping you up in a hug. “Don’t call yourself that."

You blink slowly and heave a shattered sigh into his shoulder.

“That’s messed up,” he continues. “And if you can paint me a portrait, I’ll hunt that creepo down and kick his ass.”

“I wish I’d done something,” you mumble.

He pulls back and doesn’t say anything for a long moment, sort of like he’s weighing the words in his mind. “That’s not... your responsibility. You don’t have to manage the shitty things people do to you.”

You're not anticipating that out of him but, weirdly, it's what you need to hear. You nod, unexpectedly entranced by all this.

“Don’t worry about him, okay? Donnie’s insane with this kind of stuff. He’s got facial recognition tech better than the CIA's and he can tap into any electronic device in the state, probably the country. He'll track the phone and wipe it clean in under an hour without even moving from that stupid-comfortable gaming chair he never lets any of us sit in.” His voice goes sort of bitter at the tail end there and it makes you giggle.

Leo smiles at you.

“C’mere.” And then he’s hauling you in close, incentivizing you to lie down with him, willing some of that tension out of your shivering frame. (You hadn't realized you were shaking so badly until his palms came up to rub warmth up and down the length of your arms.)

You stay there for a little while as Leo starts the movie back up. Neither of you is really watching but that’s okay. You feel better knowing justice is afoot, even if that makes you some vindictive low-road traveller.

“I wish I could go everywhere with you. Be your little bodyguard.”

You snicker. “You just want to wear aviators and an earpiece.”

“Come on…!” Leo whines. “I’d look so cool! And you’d get 24/7 personalized security. All I’m seein’ are wins here.”

You hum. “I’m inclined to agree, Nardo.” There’s a space of silence where you have to keep from replaying the incident in your mind per Leo’s request. (He told you not to worry and you intend to follow through on that.) He must sense your labours, though, because he goes on with his scenario.

“Eh, scuze me, Mr. Sleazy Scumbag, sir, no flash photography,” he proclaims, voice getting somehow more nasally than usual. “I know it’s hard to resist capturing such model-like energy but I’ll have to ask you to exercise some self-restraint.”

You put on your best manly impression, voice descending somewhere that is comically deep and husky. “Uh, I’m trying to exercise my personal liberties, here, my dude. It’s my constitutional right—nay, my duty—on this earth to harass women and be a colossal piece of shit.”

“Sir, I won’t ask you again.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?”

You’re not sure what kind of response you’re expecting but it is nowhere near one that includes being tackled to the floor and pinned down in an ambush taking the form of hellish tickles. You laugh and squirm, only marginally resentful over how easily this boy manages to lift your spirits.

He shows you mercy quickly enough, declaring, “See, I don’t even have to use violence to take down my opponents. God, I’m good.” And then he’s leaning down, whispering secretively to you: “But I wouldn’t be nearly as friendly with that clown. Trust me.”

“I do,” you tell him, and Leo has to hide the surprised elation that glosses over his face.

You grin and grab for his cheeks with your palms. “You’re so important to me.”

For someone who talks all the time, it's unbelievable that he can’t find the right words to reply. In lieu of anything verbal, a chaste peck finds its way to your forehead. (Well, it’s not like that isn’t a welcome response.)

“I should go wash my face,” you shrug sheepishly from under him. “Bet I look like a raccoon right now.” (You might have to play the lottery if it turns out your undoubtedly smudged makeup has somehow slid itself back into place.)

“Prettiest raccoon I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re sweet.”

Leo pauses the TV once again as he waits for you and the screen goes into sleep mode, transposing stock images of landscapes he’s finding it difficult to trust are real places that exist.

In this lapse, he takes the opportunity to look around. Tiny pumpkin fairy lights are strung up along the cupboards in your kitchen. Next to him, the napkins are patterned with ghosts and bats. Your bowls are colour-coordinated. The one harbouring the Doritos he brought is forest green, sporting the cartoony face of Frankenstein’s monster. There’s another with Dracula and a third violet one that doesn’t at all fit in with the others. There's just some random, unknown witch on it. Leo’s bottom lip juts out disappointedly.

A platter of chocolate-covered pretzels sits off to the side of your small table and Leo helps himself to one. And then another and a few more, until he ends up unveiling the eyeball motif on the ceramic. There are scarecrows on the matching one on the other side of the table, that one brandishing the fluffiest sugar cookies he’s ever tasted.

You’ve got werewolf coasters and pumpkin pillows and, upon further inspection, Leo finds that even your throw blanket is littered with dancing skeletons. He grins. It’s just so like you.

And then, while you’re still in the bathroom, he sends out a few texts.

***

You’re at the lair bright and early on Saturday morning and you come bearing orange-frosted cupcakes and pumpkin-spiced lattes. The turtles and April cheer in unison when they spot your goodies. It doesn't take very long at all before you're learning they’ve got surprises of their own.

The first is impossible to miss; the Hamato home is thoroughly decked out in Halloween memorabilia, including a few extravagant displays that look like they belong in the annual fun fair’s haunted house (an event that was, at the last minute, added to tomorrow’s evening agenda).

“Guys!” you squeal excitedly, taking it all in. “The lair looks incredible!”

You’re, like, fully hopping from one foot to the other, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and Leo could not find it more adorable.

Donnie outs his brother almost immediately. “It was Leo’s idea.”

Mikey’s parading around the kitchen with oven mitts on. “We’re baking pumpkin bread too!”

“Also Leo’s idea!” Donnie interjects, sliding his way over.

“And we managed to swap tickets for the forest hay ride,” April announces buoyantly from her seat, picking at the bowl of kettle corn in the centre of the table. You’d tried for those tickets initially but they’d been completely sold out so you’d had to settle for the farm route instead.

You’re about to ask how they managed to swing that when:

“Leo was on the phone with them for over an hour…” Donnie volunteers.

Raph, who’s sitting on the floor hunched over a pumpkin and getting a head start on carving offers yet another headline of terrific news: “Oh! And we’re VIP tonight. Drinks are free and we get to judge the costume contest.”

Leo’s hand wraps its way over Donnie’s mouth before the boy can so much as inhale. “I think she gets it,” he bites out through gritted teeth.

Even behind Leo’s hand-muzzle, Donnie looks entirely too smug.

Raph and April glance at you, grinning from ear to ear. Judging by this reaction, you’d say your expression has to be somewhere between awed and flabbergasted.

You don’t know what to say.

April helps you out. “Donnie’s being annoying about it but, yeah, Leo really does deserve all the credit for this.”

You watch Leo’s head turn mechanically in her direction, the stiffest grin etched into his face. It takes everything in you not to laugh. It’s strange, though. Leo’s the type to seek credit even where it’s not due so this feels suspiciously out of character.

“Oh, Leonardo…” you singsong jubilantly. “Might I have a word?”

His gaze whips up at you and he nods, shyer than you know him to be.

“Don’t take too long!” Mikey calls, removing the pan from the oven as you branch off to another room. “It’s better when it’s still warm!”

You end up in the projector room near the pile of pumpkins you’re set to carve today. Leo sucks in a pitted breath but you start before he can.

“I don’t even know how to thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.”

Leo’s shoulders come up to his jaw and fall back down slowly. “I wanted to make up for what happened. And I know you love Halloween so…”

“That’s insanely thoughtful, Leo. Thank you.”

“Oh, and I made sure Donnie caught the guy. Saw the pictures with my own two eyeballers. They were gorgeous, by the way, as always, but they have been eradicated from that perv's cellular device along with his entire camera roll and every password, contact, song, and app." He gives you a little bow. Theatrics are always in full bloom with him. It makes you smile. "We also may have leaked his bank information online but that's because Donnie's cynical and I have no self-control.”

“How am I supposed to return this kind of favour, huh? I’m gonna be buying you pizza for the rest of my life.”

Leo waves you off before picking up a pumpkin. You do the same, mostly to give yourself something to fidget with.

“You could… uh, go on a date with me instead. Like a… yeah, a date.”

Your head tilts to the side. You’ve always felt there might be something more between the two of you but you weren’t confident either of you would ever act on it. It’s hard to tell if he’s being sincere now.

You venture an answer: “One measly date in exchange for a whole weekend of fun? You’re not making this a very tough decision.”

Leo smirks at you, lip caught by his teeth. “Then say yes.”

“Yes. On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“I get to plan it. You’ve done so much, let me take this one.”

Leo slumps in relief and nods at you, eyes filled with stars. You giggle and tap your pumpkin to his, an extra pep in your step as you start off on a walk back to the others.

The rest of the weekend might just be the greatest of, like, your whole freaking life. It’s impossibly fun and chaotic, and you go home each night with your cheeks hurting from smiling so wide and your throat raw from laughter.

Everything is wonderfully spooky and delightfully festive and, come Monday night, you and Leo spend a rooftop dinner on a decorative picnic blanket mottled with broomsticks and pointy hats. You laugh and chat and cling wine glasses together, watching the sun go down and the streets below fill with costumes. Later, you’ll hand out candy and watch family-friendly classics but, for now, you dither in the wind and kiss underneath the stars.

***

#rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #my writing tag #rise leo x reader

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atomicradiogirl · 8 days

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a love letter to myself in 2019

i have serious nostalgia and wistfulness for my high school self (specifically my 2019 self) before covid and depression and health issues and a toxic relationship stole the rest of my adolescence where i didn’t get my freedom back until college. i know she’s still in there somewhere and while i’m happy now there was a long while where i wasn’t. so let me share some things my 16 year old 2019 self loved, just to keep her alive.

i loved the beatles and i would take the subway from my high school to the john lennon memorial in central park during free lunch period and get a hot pretzel from the street vender. i would walk around and listen to music and act like the main character.

i loved the holiday drinks at starbucks where i was a regular every single weekday morning until covid and a stalking. i loved that the baristas knew my order without me even having to say it. i loved having a place to act like an adult when i was far from it.

i loved that one last perfect beautiful summer in the hot humid new york city where i pretended to be a college student and fell in love with psychology. i loved reading on the train every morning and wearing sundresses. i loved getting shake shack (especially the cheese fries) and i so fondly remember karaoke and drag shows and real manspreading hours.

i loved english class. i loved annotating my books and i loved writing poetry for the literary magazine. i loved laughing in first period math class and i loved developing my love for cinema in film class.

i loved the diner almost a few too many blocks away from school where we almost didn’t make it back in time for class. i loved their nachos and their matzo ball soup and i loved their pancakes.

and so many things.

to my 16 year old self, i’m sorry it took so long for you to be truly happy again. you’re still loved and you still love so many things. you still love reading on trains and the beatles and shake shack and diners. you’re still around. i’m still here. we’re okay now.

#nat posting #love letter to myself #almost cried writing this #this is a hug to my past self

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deasbanker · 4 days

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Weekend treat: visit the Imperial Palace for the first time, stop by each bookstore in Jimbocho, and have a break at a retro cafe in Ginza where my favorite writer used to eat some while alive!

14/4/2024

Originally, I was supposed to visit Chidorigafuchi Moat last month as this is famous for the picturesque view of cherry trees lined up along its moat during sakura season; however, while I had had to put off the plan until the weather was preferable three times, I missed a chance to enjoy such a view for this year, after all. Nonetheless, I carried out my plans in the area without cherry blossoms.

Mom and I arrived at Kudanshita station, which is located right in front of Nippon Budokan and reminded me of the day when I went to the Spitz concert in my 10s, around 9:30 am for taking a boat without so much waiting; yet, having second thoughts, we opted for a brisk walk along and inside the East Garden of the Imperial Palace. In contrast to the past few weeks, the sun was beating down harshly throughout the day. Therefore, I sweated and was being so thirsty that I felt a bit reluctant to pay attention to each spot like colored carp, to tell the truth（I don't mean to say that was boring. If anything, it's good for a walk）. Then, we decided to head to Jimbocho by subway. By the by, I do remember that there were so many bees flying around the moat.

I was absolutely delighted to finally come to Jimbocho; I had been wanting to visit its bookstore street since I got a preoccupation with reading in college. I stopped by every single store on the street regardless of genre, because I didn't have a specific item to look for, so I explored the area following my heart.

I was surprised at the fact that genuine noh masks were for sale even in a bookstore（side note: 神田古書センター/Kanda-kosho Center）; I mean, most of the shops sell not only books but also records, DVDs, or posters. As well as that, I thought of actually seeing autographs of from actors who passed away half a century ago to contemporary authors, or items of like the 1920s or 30s come from other countries up close as a valuable experience. I was pondering if some books that I read a long time ago had potentially rolled in this town, at the time. Incidentally, I like 神保町ブックセンター/Jimbocho Book Center and Book House Cafe, a children's bookstore, neither of which sell used books, though. In addition, I got also startled by a really huge line for curry although this town is called "Curry Town".

In the afternoon, I took mom to BRIDGE, an underground cafe in Ginza, for a late lunch; the reason why I picked this place all the way is that one of my favorite Japanese writers named Kuniko Mukoda used to visit the cafe while alive. Thus, the articles about that were on display at the entrance. According to them, she would often order sandwiches composed of Japanese rolled omelet, some slices of ham, vegetables, and Japanese mustard, but I ordered melon pancakes, a signature dish of BRIDGE, for mom（she preferred sweets at the moment, and I have been staying away from sugar or too much carbs for fear of a relapse into binge eating disorder）. We had a great time over coffee/tea there. I like its welcoming atmosphere; it wasn't sophisticated, exclusive, nor solemn in a good way, so I didn't have to hesitate to enter, which I do appreciate. Next time, I'd love to take dad there.

#weekend treat #short trips #tokyo #spring #japan #architecture #kuniko mukoda #jimbocho #bookblr #books #subway #the imperial palace #cherry blossom #ginza #cafe #pancakes #chidorigafuchi

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humongousinfluencerdreamer · 5 months

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Toronto Airport Limo

How to Make the Most of a One-Day Trip to Toronto.

Whether it’s a https://www.torontopearson.com/ or just a short break, try to maximize the opportunity if you only have one day to spend in Toronto. Being a dynamic metropolis with a core of soaring skyscrapers and many green spaces, clearly there are plenty of things to do. Seeing everything in this Ontario city in a single day is impossible, so you need to make a plan and stick to it. Here’s how you can make the most of a jam-packed one-day trip to Toronto.

One Day in Toronto: How to Make the Most of It

How to Get Around

The first thing to do when you leave Pearson is to decide how you want to get around in Canada’s largest city. Here are a few options.

Book an Airport Limo

One of the preferred methods of transportation for travellers and businesspeople arriving in Toronto is to https://torontopearsonairportlimoservice.ca/ . It is not only comfortable but also convenient. Your chauffeurs are well-trained, familiar with the city’s routes and can help you reach your destination with ease, especially if you are a first-time visitor.

Public Transit

If you are looking for an inexpensive option, public transit is your best bet. The Toronto Transit Commission, also known as the TTC, is an easy way of getting around the city. Until November 30, you can buy a TTC Day Pass for $13 from any subway station and take streetcars, buses or the subway.

Cabs and Bikes

Another option is to get around via taxi or Uber. Simple. Or, for the adventurous, Toronto has a bike share program.

What to Do in Toronto

Once you have decided on your preferred mode of transport, you can go ahead with the most exciting part of the trip: seeing all the best places Toronto has to offer. Here are a few suggestions.

1) Brunch on West Queen West

Start your one-day tour with a delicious and wholesome brunch in one of the coolest neighborhoods in the country, West Queen West. From fluffy pancakes to mouth-watering Eggs Benedict, you can find all varieties of tasty items on the menu. Sisters & Co. and Cafe Neon are just a couple of the restaurants you can visit.

Note: Since you have only one day, booking accommodations is optional. If you don’t have much luggage, you can carry your bags with you or book a hotel room for one night.

2) Visit the Iconic CN Tower

Once you are fueled up, kick-start your tour with a popular tourist destination. If you have never visited Toronto but have seen pictures of this vibrant city, most likely featured the CN Tower. Located right in the middle of the Entertainment District in the heart of downtown, Toronto’s most iconic landmark is a 553.3 m-high concrete communications and observation tower. It held the record for the world’s tallest free-standing structure from 1975–2007 and was the world’s tallest tower until 2009. If you are interested in seeing Toronto from up high, take the elevator to the viewing platform for a 360-degree view. .

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alexin-wonderlust · 1 year

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Day Five - Osaka Castle and Onwards to Kyoto

11th November 2022

Started the day as early as we could, having some breakfast along the river near Dotonbori. I wanted to get the boat to Osaka castle but couldn’t find one that was operating!! So, we caught the train and decided to start our adventure.

Grabbed an Asahi and a pizza bun from the kombini; and we decided to go in the castle and check out the museum. They had a “temperature checker” before you could go in … in case you had a fever. Covid things. But it was actually quite warm after walking and drinking and the sun… yeeesh!

We had to climb a significant amount of steps to get back down, and Ben’s feet were already hurting. So it was lunchtime after that adventure. The roof top restaurant didn’t really have a lot to choose from; so we got some curry over a cutlet and some yakitori skewers. We did a shot of tequila at the bar before we left and they said we were “very strong”.

Obviously, we needed more food (and to pee…) so another stop at another kombini to grab some more pizza buns, another beer and I found some grape scented bubbles. This was the best time! We just giggled and drank beer and blew bubbles and took photos of the autumn leaves.

Time to walk back to the hotel to get bags, and find our way to Kyoto. The train was PACKED and there wasn’t anywhere to sit. I realise now, it would have been beneficial to book a seat in advance (next time) and maybe don’t drink heavily beforehand?

Our accommodation in Kyoto is amazing. It’s located super centrally, and it’s very traditional but still a hotel with modern touches. It’s probably my favourite hotel I’ve ever stayed in. The bathroom is amazing!

Ben is HUNGRY! So we had to find some food. I really wanted pizza and managed to stumble across a place called Salvatore’s Grill.

AMAZING. Like, hands down. The BEST pasta I’ve ever had. Truffle carbonara with an award winning margarita pizza, drinking wine, sitting alfresco along the river with the leaves falling in. It was actually magic. I’m so glad we went there.

After dinner we walked down the nightlife area but we were too exhausted to drink any more… bed time. X

IG Post:

"Day Five: Osaka Castle and Kyoto ⛩️

Today was a travel day, but we had the morning to wind up Osaka and do some things we didn’t get to do (and go to Osaka Castle). Apparently the boat cruise I wanted to do wasn’t operating, and there aren’t any hop on-hop off buses in Osaka any more — we just had to train and subway around.

We went inside the Osaka Caste. Had lunch at the rooftop restaurant (and had a shot of tequila which made for a fun walk back) and then found our way back to the hotel to get to Kyoto.

"Breakfast was thick pancakes and vanilla soufflé while overlooking the Dotonbori River. Then, pizza bun at Osaka Castle before — curry and chicken yakitori on the rooftop at the castle.

Dinner was at Salvatore’s in Kyoto. It was amazing. Great location and the food was so good. We shared a pasta and they put it in two bowls for us… too cute!! 🥰"

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visgreys · 2 years

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One last stop casey mcquiston

#ONE LAST STOP CASEY MCQUISTON CRACK#

Though sad at times-you can really feel August’s loneliness-the moments where she schemes with her friends and relishes in her found family in her apartment and at the diner, make this book shine. It was refreshing to read an author deftly handle both Queer joy and acknowledge past pain-especially in moments that could have ended up a lot worse. That isn’t to say that it doesn’t recognize problems for the Queer community even in a city like New York. It felt very New York, another reason to love this book.

#ONE LAST STOP CASEY MCQUISTON CRACK#

Doomed from the start, August tries to deny her feelings for Jane, knowing that if they crack the case, Jane could return to her own time.Īs a Cis White woman I can’t comment directly on whether or not the representation was done well other than to recognize that I enjoyed reading a book that was happily inclusive. Jane has time traveled from the 70s and has gotten stuck in the present. And she remembers almost nothing about her past or herself.ĭespite August’s vow to never get involved with cases again, she uses her past-detective experience to look into Jane’s history. Every time she gets off she gets zapped back. Beyond all reason, Jane is stuck on the train. But it becomes quickly apparent that there’s something odd about Jane’s presence on the subway and the good luck that August has in always being able to meet up with her, isn’t a coincidence. Jane is enigmatic and August is drawn to her, the way she carries herself and how she goes out of her way to help other passengers. It isn’t long before they become friends. The seconds encounter before she gets off is enough to make an impression and August begins looking for this extremely good-looking, kind woman every time she steps on the Q. On her way to one of her classes, she has a devastatingly charming meet-cute with a mysterious stranger who offers her a red scarf to cover the spilled coffee all over her. Before long, they’re the found family she didn’t know she needed and her job at their local place, Pancake Billy’s House of Pancakes, offers her stability she desperately needed. Its there that she meets Niko, a psychic, his brilliant girlfriend, Myla, and their insightful and sensitive roommate Wes. Twenty-three and aimless, she flees to finish out college in NYC in the hopes of never thinking about the case again. Her mother moved them around so the two never settled anywhere that August felt like home. August was raised on a steady diet of self-defense, lock picking and investigative tactics. Her entire life has been mostly centered around a cold case-before she was born, her mother’s brother disappeared without a trace. She doesn’t expect to find a home there, but she hopes she finds a reason to stay. Her bestselling debut, Red, White and Royal Blueset the bar pretty high in terms of contemporary romances and I think she managed to raise it higher with her sophomore novel.įor those of you who aren’t aware of the most buzz-worthy book this season, a little summary: August Landry is a prickly hedgehog of a young woman, who moves to the city hoping to escape from a loneliness she’s felt her whole life. But I think that’s a Casey McQuiston specialty. Its also one of the most romantic books I’ve read.

#One last stop casey mcquiston

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greystogo · 2 years

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One last stop casey mcquiston

"A dazzling romance, filled with plenty of humor and heart." - Time McQuiston is leading the charge for inclusive happy-ever-afters, radiant with joy and toe-curling passion, and bursting with the creative range to make anything from electricity to social activism sound sexy." - NPR " One Last Stop is an electrifying romance that synapses into the dreamy "Hot Person Summer" kind of story you wish you were a part of. "Casey McQuiston has done it again." - Hypable "This delightful love story is everything you need for a feel-good day of beach reading." - Elle "The story of August and Jane's chance meeting is swoony, thoughtful, and one of those big-hearted romances you'll gush about long after finishing." - Hello Sunshine " One Last Stop is an earnest reminder that home - whether that means a time, a place, or a person - is worth fighting for." - New York Magazine But it’s also about loneliness, and being unmoored from normal time, and missing people you’ve lost, and dealing with generational trauma and fearing an unknowable future." - The New York Times Book Review "Part romance, part fantasy, this gorgeous novel is about meeting someone on your daily commute - a girl, it turns out, who has been riding the train since the 1970s, thanks to a magical timeslip. *ONE OF USA TODAY'S BEST ROM-COMS of 2021* *THE TONIGHT SHOW'S FALLON SUMMER READS BOOK CLUB FINALIST* *A NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW NOTABLE BOOK OF 2021* "Dreamy, other worldly, smart, swoony, thoughtful, hilarious - all in all, exactly what you'd expect from Casey McQuiston!" - Jasmine Guillory, New York Times bestselling author of The Proposal and Party for Two "A dazzling romance, filled with plenty of humor and heart." - Time Magazine, "The 21 Most Anticipated Books of 2021" Maybe it’s time to start believing in some things, after all.Ĭasey McQuiston’s One Last Stop is a magical, sexy, big-hearted romance where the impossible becomes possible as August does everything in her power to save the girl lost in time. She’s literally displaced in time from the 1970s, and August is going to have to use everything she tried to leave in her own past to help her. August’s subway crush becomes the best part of her day, but pretty soon, she discovers there’s one big problem: Jane doesn’t just look like an old school punk rocker. Jane with her rough edges and swoopy hair and soft smile, showing up in a leather jacket to save August’s day when she needed it most. Dazzling, charming, mysterious, impossible Jane. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures.īut then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. From the New York Times bestselling author of Red, White & Royal Blue comes a new romantic comedy that will stop readers in their tracks.įor cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone.

#One last stop casey mcquiston

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briebliophile · 2 years

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One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

This took an intriguing twist! It took me a little while to get the review up for because I wanted to take time getting my thoughts in order. August is new to the city. She’s pushed herself out of the comfort zone of New Orleans and life with her true crime-obsessed mom to pursue her college degree in New York City. One day on her commute to her new job at a pancake joint, August meets Jane, a fellow commuter on the subway. Jane is the first person to really pique August’s interest romantically. Jane is a fun loving kind girl who, through a twist of fate and a blackout, has been stuck on the Q line for YEARS. Will Jane and August find a way to reverse the circumstances tying Jane to the subway so they can be together? This book started out fairly slow. I do think that part of my “issue” with this book is that I simply wasn’t in the right headspace for this when I started it. I did enjoy that it pushed me out of my comfort zone a bit. I have never had that multiple roommates who bond experience and this seemed like fun chaos. I would describe this as season one of Love Life meets One Italian Summer. The inaccuracies of the city and system bugged me a tad, the plot felt forced in a lot of places, and the book seemed much longer than needed. Ultimately just not really a book for me which stinks because I really wanted to like it! ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ - 3/5

#bookstagram #ireadalot #bookaddict #bookstagrammer #bookrecommendations #mybookshelf #igreads #2022readingchallenge #recommendedreading #briereads #bookreviews #whatimreading #whatiread #readwithme #reviews #tbr #bookworm #reading #aprilreads

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bookcub · 3 years

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Quick Review: One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

I got my hands on this book early and here is my spoiler free review for the book!!

the start was so slow and I almost put it down but once Jane's role started to grow, I got into it.

the love story of this book was beautiful and adorable and August and Jane were so very sweet, I was so invested in their love story and their individual arcs.

I loved the mystery aspect of August's uncle. I really liked that whole storyline.

I am so impressed with how many romantic scenes were fit on subway.

I thought the found family dynamics were rushed but I did love all the interactions.

I could have done without all the pancake place stuff, I was not invested.

So much diversity!!!! It was lovely, lovely, lovely!!!

I need to find the playlist that accompanies the book, I'm sure Casey McQuiston has already made one or is in the process of making one.

like Red, White, and Royal Blue, this book was written with a very specific audience in mind and unlike rwarb, I was like, one step away from being in that audience completely. no doubt in my mind many people will love this book.

I was not into all the explanations of the time travel stuff, which is to be expected, as I don't like time travel or adore sci fi.

I really enjoyed this book, I found it satisfying and sweet and lovely and would recommend this to anyone who liked romance mixed with sci fi. Four stars out of five for me!!

#one last stop #casey mcquiston #my book review #hopefully this is comprehensible

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traeumenvonbuechern · 3 years

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June Wrap-Up

1. Can't Take That Away (Steven Salvatore)

Carey Parker dreams of being a diva, and bringing the house down with song. But despite their talent, emotional scars from an incident with a homophobic classmate and their grandmother's spiraling dementia make it harder and harder for Carey to find their voice. Then Carey meets Cris, a singer/guitarist who makes Carey feel seen for the first time in their life. With the rush of a promising new romantic relationship, Carey finds the confidence to audition for the role of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, in the school musical, setting off a chain reaction of prejudice by Carey's tormentor and others in the school. It's up to Carey, Cris, and their friends to defend their rights--and they refuse to be silenced.

2. Sanditon (Jane Austen)

Written in the last months of Austen's life, Sanditon features a glorious cast of hypochondriacs and speculators in a newly established seaside resort, and shows the author contemplating a changing society with scepticism and amusement. It tells the story of Charlotte Heywood, who is transported by a chance accident from her rural hometown to Sanditon, where she is exposed to the intrigues and dalliances of a small town determined to reinvent itself - and encounters the intriguingly handsome Sidney Parker.

3. The Witch King (H.E. Edgmon)

Wyatt would give anything to forget where he came from—but a kingdom demands its king. In Asalin, fae rule and witches like Wyatt Croft…don’t. Wyatt’s betrothal to his best friend, fae prince Emyr North, was supposed to change that. But when Wyatt lost control of his magic one devastating night, he fled to the human world. Now a coldly distant Emyr has hunted him down. Despite transgender Wyatt’s newfound identity and troubling past, Emyr has no intention of dissolving their engagement. In fact, he claims they must marry now or risk losing the throne. Jaded, Wyatt strikes a deal with the enemy, hoping to escape Asalin forever. But as he gets to know Emyr, Wyatt realizes the boy he once loved may still exist. And as the witches face worsening conditions, he must decide once and for all what’s more important—his people or his freedom.

4. One Last Stop (Casey McQuiston)

For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train. Jane. Dazzling, charming, mysterious, impossible Jane. Jane with her rough edges and swoopy hair and soft smile, showing up in a leather jacket to save August’s day when she needed it most. August’s subway crush becomes the best part of her day, but pretty soon, she discovers there’s one big problem: Jane doesn’t just look like an old school punk rocker. She’s literally displaced in time from the 1970s, and August is going to have to use everything she tried to leave in her own past to help her. Maybe it’s time to start believing in some things, after all.

5. Between Perfect and Real (Ray Stoeve)

Dean Foster knows he’s a trans guy. He’s watched enough YouTube videos and done enough questioning to be sure. But everyone at his high school thinks he’s a lesbian—including his girlfriend Zoe, and his theater director, who just cast him as a “nontraditional” Romeo. He wonders if maybe it would be easier to wait until college to come out. But as he plays Romeo every day in rehearsals, Dean realizes he wants everyone to see him as he really is now––not just on the stage, but everywhere in his life. Dean knows what he needs to do. Can playing a role help Dean be his true self?

6. The Cruel Prince (Holly Black)

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

7. Boy Queen (George Lester)

Robin Cooper’s life is falling apart. While his friends prepare to head off to university, Robin is looking at a pile of rejection letters from drama schools up and down the country, and facing a future without the people he loves the most. Everything seems like it’s ending, and Robin is scrabbling to find his feet. Unsure about what to do next and whether he has the talent to follow his dreams, he and his best friends go and drown their sorrows at a local drag show, where Robin realises there might be a different, more sequinned path for him . . . With a mother who won't stop talking, a boyfriend who won't acknowledge him and a best friend who is dying to cover him in glitter make up, there's only one thing for Robin to do: bring it to the runway.

8. Felix Ever After (Kacen Callender)

Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle.... But as he navigates his complicated feelings, Felix begins a journey of questioning and self-discovery that helps redefine his most important relationship: how he feels about himself.

9. Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë)

Lockwood, the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange on the bleak Yorkshire moors, is forced to seek shelter one night at Wuthering Heights, the home of his landlord. There he discovers the history of the tempestuous events that took place years before: of the intense passion between the foundling Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw, and her betrayal of him. As Heathcliff's bitterness and vengeance is visited upon the next generation, their innocent heirs must struggle to escape the legacy of the past.

10. Ace of Spades (Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé)

Welcome to Niveus Private Academy, where money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because anonymous texter, Aces, is bringing two students' dark secrets to light. Talented musician Devon buries himself in rehearsals, but he can't escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Head girl Chiamaka isn't afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power. Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they're planning much more than a high-school game...

11. The Queer Principles of Kit Webb (Cat Sebastian)

Kit Webb has left his stand-and-deliver days behind him. But dreary days at his coffee shop have begun to make him pine for the heady rush of thievery. When a handsome yet arrogant aristocrat storms into his shop, Kit quickly realizes he may be unable to deny whatever this highborn man desires. In order to save himself and a beloved friend, Percy, Lord Holland must go against every gentlemanly behavior he holds dear to gain what he needs most: a book that once belonged to his mother, a book his father never lets out of his sight and could be Percy’s savior. More comfortable in silk-filled ballrooms than coffee shops frequented by criminals, his attempts to hire the roughly hewn highwayman, formerly known as Gladhand Jack, proves equal parts frustrating and electrifying. Kit refuses to participate in the robbery but agrees to teach Percy how to do the deed. Percy knows he has little choice but to submit and as the lessons in thievery begin, he discovers thievery isn’t the only crime he’s desperate to commit with Kit. But when their careful plan goes dangerously wrong and shocking revelations threaten to tear them apart, can these stolen hearts withstand the impediments in their path?

12. Weekend Girl (Alex Powell)

Ashley Kingston is a genderfluid university student with a major crush on attractive and charming Nolan. He seems just too perfect to be true. What happens when Ash meets Nolan while dressed as both a man, and a woman? And even more confusing, what happens when Nolan seems enamoured of both versions of Ash? A twisty-turny romance filled with fun and shenanigans.

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worldcrawlerhp · 4 years

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Quickest way to tell if an author is definitely not British: they spell ‘mum’ as ‘mom’.

Or there is any mention of the ‘sorcerer’s stone’ (again not sure why they decided to change the name of the whole book for American audiences? We do sort of speak the same language!)

Ways to tell if the author is likely American:

- lack of tea in literally any situation

- heating up water in the microwave (why?)

- pop tarts are mentioned as a normal thing? (We have them but like... really not common)

- pumpkin pie or canned pumpkin (I don’t actually even understand what canned pumpkin is...)

- Using numbers instead of street names (Every piece of street or close in London or any other uk city has a name)

- Using ‘blocks’ when giving directions or describing how far a character is going (there is no rhyme or reason to any of our city layouts - they’ve been built organically, destroyed and rebuilt over thousands of years so it’s a massive clusterfuck and we have nothing as simple as blocks 😅)

- saying ‘downtown’ (this is not a concept in London or any uk city I can think of. We have city centres or for smaller towns we have high streets)

- taking the ‘subway’ around muggle london (we take the underground / the tube... and there aren’t rats, although there are plenty of mice. There are some rats above ground though)

- people eating in diners instead of pubs

- when every place serves pancakes or waffles - Ron would definitely go for a full English breakfast (eggs, sausages, hash browns, baked beans, toast, jam, black pudding, bacon, tea), and I just can’t see Mrs Weasley serving a tower of pancakes ever...

- an assumption everybody has orange juice? Do people always have orange juice? I’m not even sure if this is an American thing or if everybody in my life just happens to not drink it?

**i don’t mean anything bad or derogatory about anybody who does these, it’s just amusing to read a fic in a British voice and suddenly something small stands out to me

#harry potter #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #harry potter fandom #sirius black #marauders #hinny #ginny weasley #ron weasley

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cheri-translates · 4 years

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[CN] More about Loveland City (Eng Translation)

Fun facts of Loveland City posted on Weibo by the official MLQC page in commemoration of its 1000 day anniversary!

Every morning at 5am, a mysterious stall will appear outside LFG selling pancakes, and will close punctually at 7am. Sometimes, LFG employees will use “are there still pancakes on the table” to determine what time a person reaches the office.

[Trivia] The ‘pancakes’ are actually called 煎饼果子 (“jian bing guo zi”). They are deep-fried dough sticks rolled in a thin pancake, and are hailed as one of China's most beloved street breakfasts. It consists of mung bean, eggs, and fried dough sticks, served with sweet bean sauce, diced green onion, and optionally chilli sauce

The name “New Light Mall” is derived from the dynamism and soundness of “The Book of Changes”. It symbolises continuous progress towards morality and justice in art.

[Trivia] “The Book of Changes” (周易 - “zhou yi”) is an ancient Chinese divination text and among the oldest of the Chinese classics

The Ultima Bioresearch Centre is just like the ones in other places, packed with its own attention-grabbing ghost stories and bewildering discussions. Although these rumours have already been dispelled with scientific explanations considering how it’s a place filled with scientists and researchers, this doesn’t stop people from using such stories to scare newcomers.

Lake Misty is a scenic spot beloved by citizens of Loveland City. At the same time, because it has an exquisite view, several programs are shot here. It’s a common background used in various big programs.

Although Loveland City’s Soup Dumplings Restaurant isn’t large, nor is it big on advertising, it’s a century-old restaurant which is value for money. The signature soup dumpling meal is highly recommended - it comes with six soup dumplings and a bowl of vermicelli soup, and is only 15 yuan.

Most of the employees in STF are amiable and approachable, especially the aunties in the canteen - they would always pile on more dishes for relatively skinny-looking members. This has also led to probiotic yogurt drinks seeing very good sales.

[Trivia] Probiotic yogurt drinks aid in digestion and prevent bloating :>

[Fun fact] One of Gavin’s “Go See Him” lines is “There isn’t a canteen in STF, but the nearby eateries aren’t bad.” So... wHY ARE YOU LYING GAVIN 👀

There’s also another line where he says “My colleagues would sometimes bring handmade bentos...”

So did he say what he did so MC would handmade bentos for him LOL

The flourishing Main Street has a cotton candy shop which allows customers to create cotton candy of all shapes and colours. It even has several comics targeted to young women. As for why it’s set up in Finance Street instead of Sunshine Alley or Catalpa Alley, nobody knows.

The Subway Station in Finance Street has an especially good signal. Office workers from near Finance Street are able to sign-in to work, and everyone is very grateful for this.

The facilities in B.S. Entertainment are extremely well-developed. For the convenience of its artistes, the building doesn’t only has appliances like a coffee machine, refrigerator, and a microwave oven. There’s also an Internet cafe, a VR games room, a karaoke room, a small vegetable plot, and other random facilities.

Loveland City once had a band who was scouted by a famous music producer while performing at LiveHouse. After that, it became legendary in the music industry. Till this day, musicians who hope to be a cut above the rest will sometimes come to LiveHouse and burn some incense.

[Trivia] Burning incense is akin to making a prayer

#mlqc #mlqc cn

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone: Chapter Six

Title: Subway trolls and pancakes

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y , @innerpaperexpertcloud , @alievans007 , @tragiclyhip

They stop at the closest bodega for a cup of take out coffee and a carton of chocolate milk, then hand in hand navigate the snowy sidewalks on their brief jaunt to the subway. Tanner is excited about their morning out. Words rapidly leaving his lips as all his pent up thoughts come spilling out; sentences running together and often making little to no sense as several different topics messily mix together. But Tyler lets him get it out. Tanner often very quiet and shy and finding himself lost in the chaos of their home; unable to get a word in edgewise at times and then finding himself growing more and more frustrated. It always leads to a meltdown; tears and screaming hyperventilating and sometimes even the odd destructive episode. The latter hasn’t happened in a long time; both his parents and Tanner himself recognizing the triggers and the warning signs and able to calm him down before things escalate that far. It’s been a journey to say the least; learning how to both handle and help a kid like Tanner. Specialists and fellow parents of children with Autism and autistic adults themselves have been extremely helpful; they’ve found the strategies that aid him the best and in turn, help him thrive. Music therapy and appointments disguised as play, sensory items that provide him with the ‘break’ that he needs when overwhelmed, deep pressure applied with hugs and weighted blankets and vests. It’s a whole new world that has been both overwhelming and rewarding. Tanner isn’t the only one that’s being helped. It’s an adjustment for the entire family and everyone has had to make changes and sacrifices. But it’s also been a positive thing. What could have broken a marriage has actually made it stronger; working as a team and discovering just how strong and determined the other is and witnessing what lengths they’ll go to help their family thrive under even the most difficult of circumstances.

Tanner is a gift. An extra special one. In a way that his siblings aren’t. He’s opened their eyes to an entirely different existence, bringing out the depths of their patience and compassion. He’s beautiful and intelligent; the depths of his knowledge and information stored away inside that little brain simply profound. And talented; cooking and baking, drawing, playing the guitar and singing. But he DOES struggle. Anything social is a challenge for him; extreme difficulty in making friends, becoming extremely shy and withdrawn and even scared if a stranger approaches him for even the smallest of chit chat. And his fears and triggers are numerous; thunderstorms, needles, too much noise and conversation going on around him at once, the sudden and sharp clattering of dishes, the seams inside clothes. Things that most people would never even notice, are extremely heightened for him. And while most are easily recognized and identifiable and the entire family goes out of their way to accommodate him when possible, new issues seem to arise every day.

But the subway is one of his favourite places. The dark tunnels don’t faze him, nor does the crowd of people during the more busy times. And when the noises become too much he knows to simply put on a pair of sounds cancelling headphones and then concentrate on something else; whether it be a book he’s brought along of a sketch pad or even games and videos on one of his parents’ phones.

This morning he’s in his glory; kneeling on the seat beside Tyler, nose pressed against the window as he stares out into the darkness. The subway is quiet; people choosing to stay in after the snowstorm or already flooding earlier trains in hopes of beating the masses that will flock to malls and boutiques to complete their Christmas shopping. While extremely advanced intellectually speaking, he’s a lot younger in other ways; social skills and emotional maturity putting him around the level of a five or six year old. The difference is most apparent when he’s with his twin; TJ becoming older and wiser with each passing day while Tanner struggles to get to the level at Declan -or even Brooklyn and Takota- functions at. And he’s much smaller than his older brother as well; gifted with his mother’s height and slender body and some of her petite features. But there’s never any problem recognizing the Rake in him. The facial expressions and mannerisms and that Australian accent that he’s developed; much thicker and stronger than any of his siblings.

“Dad?” Tanner pipes up from beside him, one hand tightly gripping the top of the seat while the other keeps a firm hold on his chocolate milk; stomach pressed against the back of the seat, his father’s arm wrapped tightly around his middle.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think the subway trolls are real? Do you think they exist?”

“Subway trolls??”

“Remember the subway trolls? TJ talked about them during the summer. When we came here to visit Ovi. About how there’s trolls living down here. Do you think it’s true? Do you think there’s really trolls down here?”

“Something tells me that’s something your brother made up: to freak Takota out. He had nightmares for three weeks after that.”

“Everytime we come on the subway, I try looking for trolls. But it’s dark and the train is fast and I can’t really see ANYTHING. But it could be true, yeah? There really could be trolls. They could exist.”

“Trolls aren’t real. It’s just something that people made up. A long time ago. They just exist in movies and books. Like in The Lord of The Rings.”

A look of visible disgust appears on Tanner’s face. “Those are Orcs. NOT trolls.”

“Same thing.”

“No, dad. They’re not. You need to read the books again. Orcs and trolls are NOT the same. I mean, they’ve evil, but orcs aren’t much stronger than humans. Trolls have superhuman strength. Plus, they’re HUGE. Orcs are just the size of normal people. Even mummy knows this stuff.”

“That’s because mummy is a nerd.”

“She’s not a nerd! She’s very smart. In a lot of different things. She even speaks three languages. You only speak one.”

“I speak two. English and profanity.”

“Swearing is NOT a language.”

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s an art form.”

“You do have A LOT of swears in your vocabulary. It’s pretty impressive; that you know that many bad words. You know twenty different ways to say the F word. That’s cool. You’re smart in your way and mumma is smart in hers. Is that why you fell in love with her? ‘Cause of how smart she is?”

“It was one of the reasons.”

“I wanna meet a girl one day. Like mum. Mum is super cute and tiny and really funny. She makes me laugh a lot. And she’s got a really nice, kind smile and pretty eyes.”

“Yeah, she does. She’s pretty special, huh?”

“She is,” Tanner smiles.. “You’re a lucky guy, daddy. She loves you a whole bunch. I see it in her eyes, you know. They get all sparkly and shiny when she sees you. Like yesterday when you got home. As soon as you got out of the cab, her entire face changed. Her cheeks got rosy and she had a huge smile and her eyes were shiny. Like she was going to cry but not crying eyes at the same time. I want to meet a girl like mummy. Then I’d be lucky too.”

“You would,” Tyler agrees. “You’d be the luckiest guy on the face of the earth.”

“I’ll ask mummy about the trolls. When we get home. She might know. She lived here before. Maybe she’s seen one. That would be so freaking awesome.”

“Something tells me that mummy hasn’t seen a subway troll. Something also tells me they don’t exist.”

“Why you say that?”

“Have you ever seen one? I’ve never seen one.”

“Just because we don’t see things, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I haven’t seen a lot of things, but I know they’re real.”

“That’s a very good point, actually.”

A sudden pout appears on Tanner’s face; entire body stiffening. “I don’t like this part of the ride. It gets really noisy and extra dark here. Can I sit on your lap now? You make me feel safe.”

Nodding, he places the backpack sitting on his lap between his feet. It contains everything the ten year old could need during the time out; headphones, weighted lap pad, various fidget items, an extra sweater that’s a size too small but Tanner enjoys wearing because it’s ‘tight and feels like a hug’. Scooping his son off the seat next to him and settles him on his thighs; Tanner wrapping both arms around his neck and sliding his body forward in order to have that comfort of body against body. And he slips his hand up the back of the little one’s jacket, hoodie, and t-shirt; giving him that press of a warm, soothing palm against his bare skin.

“I don’t like this part, daddy,” Tanner whimpers, and tightens the hold on his dad’s neck. “It’s scary.”

“It’s okay, mate. I got you. You’re fine. Close your eyes; I’ll tell you when it’s over.”

“Alright,” he squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can. “I trust you.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”

“I know you won’t. But it’s still scary.”

“Nothing to be scared of,” Tyler assures him, and presses his lips to his temple; the end of his nose resting against the side of Tanner’s head as he speaks to him in a low, quiet voice. “Nothing can hurt you. Ever.”

“Not when you’re here. You won’t let anything hurt me.”

“Anything or anyone. You’re alright, mate. Just breathe. It’s almost over. Just a couple more minutes. Why don’t you tell me about some of your dreams? The ones you were writing about? Tell me some of them and I’ll read the rest. I want to hear about them.”

“Okay,” Tanner takes a deep, shaky breath, but keeps his eyes screwed shut as he launches into a recap of one of his many dreams.

Tyler’s not sure how many of these dreams are actually real; they’re vivid and often far beyond Tanner’s level of maturity. And he often wonders if it’s just tales the ten year old has conjured up in his own mind; a very detailed and colourful imagination that is often underused AND under appreciated. But he never questions their validity or ‘tunes out’ when his son is sharing his stories; letting him indulge in that little fantasy world of his where things probably seem a lot easier to handle and cope with. And it gives Tanner a sense of confidence and pride in himself; knowing how well he can both tell a tale and how well received it is by the one person he’s always so eager to please and make proud of him.

Today the dreams are about dragons and sea life. Two very distinct ‘dreams’; the first consisting of Tanner being the brave and noble knight that saves the princess and an entire kingdom from an untimely demise. The second he’s an underwater explorer; making friends with all the marine creatures and building a completely self-sustaining and livable underwater habitat for both humans and sea life. And he sees the way people around them react to both Tanner’s story telling and the gentle and calm way Tyler deals with him; the smiles and the comments about how ‘cute it is’ and even the praises of ‘it’s nice to see a daddy out with the little ones’.

“Is it done yet?” Tanner inquires, as the last of his final tale leaves his lips. “Are we past the scary part?”

“Yup. All done.”

“Good,” he heaves a sigh of relief. “But can I still stay here? Can I still stay on your lap?”

“You can stay there as long as you want, Nug.”

“I love you daddy. Thank you.”

“No worries, mate. I love you too.” He removes the hand from underneath Tanner’s clothing and briefly lays it on the back of his head; placing a kiss to his cheek before wrapping his arm around his waist. Even THAT’s been a learning process; expressing emotion and talking about feelings and showing affection. He’d grown up not being allowed to do any of those things; his father only beating him more savagely if he cried or begged for him to stop or if he cried over the loss of his mother. Meeting and marrying someone that craves both giving and receiving affection had been a real eye opener; showing him just how badly the old man had screwed him up both physically and mentally.

“Nug?”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta ask you something.”

“About what?”

“Mummy.”

“I don’t know what she wants for Christmas. She says ‘nothing’ EVERY year.”

“I already got that all figured out. This is about something else.”

“Okay. What is the something else?”

“When I was gone, did mummy seem sad?”

“Mummy is always sad when you go away. She misses you.”

“But did she seem extra sad, maybe? Did it seem like she was having a hard time with me being gone? A harder time than usual?”

“Maybe a little. I mean, she was really sad. She did cry a few times. And locked herself in the pantry once. But that’s ‘cause Millie was being mean and driving her nuts. I pushed tissues under the door; so mummy could wipe her face and blow her nose. We all get snotty when we cry.”

“I’m glad you help mommy out. Especially when she’s sad. You’ve always been good at that; helping take care of her. What about at night? Anything go on at night? Maybe you were supposed to be sleeping and you heard some things? Maybe mummy really upset and crying hard extra hard or…?”

“I snuggled with her a couple nights. On the couch. Because she said she said she couldn’t sleep and that she was feeling lonely. I went down to get a snack. I know I shouldn’t have; that I’m not allowed downstairs by myself in the middle of the night. I’m sorry, daddy. I was hungry though and mummy wasn’t in your room and I went looking for her. She was eating ice cream out of the container and watching Sex and the City. Are you mad? That I went downstairs by myself?”

“No, mate. I’m not. You went looking for mum, right?”

“Yeah, because I was hungry and I knew she would make me a snack. She always makes me an English muffin. Toasted. With a piece of cheese and two slices of tomato on it. With pepper sprinkled on top. And when I couldn’t find her upstairs, I got worried. So I went looking for her. We had snacks and she let me have some ice cream and then we snuggled on the couch watching Sponge Bob. I stayed up until she fell asleep, and then I went and got the big blanket of your bed and your pillow and took them downstairs and tucked mommy in. Then I went back to bed. Once I knew she was really fast asleep and comfortable. I gave her a goodnight kiss. Three, actually. Two on the lips, one of the forehead. Like you do. You always kiss her on the forehead.”

“You are a good son, Nug. A great son. That loves his mumma very much.”

“She’s the best mummy in the whole world. If I could pick mummies, I’d pick her above everyone else. Because she loves me no matter what. She doesn’t care that I’m different. That my brain doesn’t work like everyone else’s. She just loves me. No questions asked. Just like I love her no matter what. Even when she gets mad and yells. But I don’t like when she cries. It makes my heart hurt.”

“Was she crying a lot? While I was gone? More than she’s ever cried before?”

“I guess. TJ and I could hear her the first couple of nights. Crying in the bedroom. We were going to see if she was okay, but we didn’t want to get in trouble. Takota and Brookie went in though and slept with her. She seemed okay in the morning. She likes when we come in to cuddle. She doesn’t like the big bed all to herself.”

“Did she say anything to you? About me being gone?”

“Not to me. But I heard her talking to Desi. He came over every night to check on her and make sure she didn’t need anything. I heard her saying how worried she was about you. That she was scared something would happen and she’d never see you again. That she’d already almost lost you twice before and that she couldn’t take it a third time. Desi tried to talk her down; told her everything would be okay and that you’d be home before she knew it.”

“That was it? The whole thing you heard?”

“Most of it. She also said that she’s never loved anyone the way that she loves you. That you couldn’t ever possibly understand how much she does. That you saved her. In every way someone can be saved.”

“She said that?”

Tanner nods, then reaches inside Tyler’s jacket and pulls out the wool beanie he’d put in one of the pockets for safe keeping. “Will you help me when my glasses fog up?” he asks, and he yanks the hat down onto his head. “They always fog up when we go out in the cold.”

“I will help you.”

“And over the really high snowbanks?”

“I’m going to toss you in those. Have to call someone to dig you out.”

“Daddy…” he crosses his arms over his chest and stares at him pointedly. “...that’s not very nice.”

“I would never do that to you. TJ, yeah. You? Never.”

“You know…” Tanner scrambles off his lap as the train begins its final approach to their station, then curls all of his fingers around three of his father’s “...if I got to pick daddies, I’d pick you.”

Tyler smiles down at his son. “You would, would you?”

Tanner nods. “In a heartbeat.”

*****

Breakfast is a success. A small diner in Battery Park that Tanner had found online three years ago; spending hours online searching for the best pancake spots in New York City and reading all of the reviews and browsing all the menus. He’s very detail oriented. Choosing places to eat and shop on not just popularity and the items being offered, but on the way the food appears in pictures; a keen eye for attractive colour palettes and neat and tidy -and appealing- presentation. He’d put so much research and time into it that Tyler hadn’t had the heart to tell him that maybe somewhere closer to home would be a better fit; no ‘scary’ trips on the subway meant less crowds and noise and almost assured no sensory meltdowns which in turn, would mean an extremely hard day for Tanner. Once something is ‘set off’, he remains on edge and anxious for hours; the mere stress of his brain going into overload causing him to be destructive and aggressive. The latter is always directed at himself; yanking his hair out, banging his head off walls, scratching himself until he bleeds. And while it’s always a worry that something will spark the behaviour, they’ve become better at recognizing the warning signs; identifying triggers and able to remove him from a situation before it becomes too much for him to bear.

The morning had gone well. Tanner had been talkative and cheerful; uncharacteristically engaging with the waitress and carrying on conversations -albeit brief, as too much chatter and eye contact make him extremely uncomfortable- with fellow diners. He’d only had difficulties twice. Needing his weighted lap pad and some fidget toys when the wait for food was longer than expected, and a flight to his father’s lap when a larger group of diners came in and their voices were needlessly loud and obnoxious. A tight as possible embrace and encouraging and comforting words whispered had quickly soothed him, but he’d still insisted on staying perched on his dad’s thighs while he finished the remains of his breakfast.

After a quick trip to the Cartier store -a little something for mummy as a form of both apology and an excuse to spoil her- and to pick up some novels to read at Tanner’s favourite used book store, they returned home and onto the final ‘event’ of the morning; time spent at the private park. It’s cold and the wind brutal, but Tanner is in his element; loving the way he can ‘crash’ into the snowbank at the bottom of the slide, tend to building his own snowman without interference from his well meaning but way too hyper younger siblings, and time on the swings. And while he has two of his own hanging from the ceiling in his bedroom, he prefers being outside; leaning as far back as he can and staring up at the sky. It’s gray and dreary today, but he’s in his glory; catching snowflakes on his tongue and giggling the entire time.

That laugh -one he’d inherited from his mother- is more than enough to tolerate the frigid temperatures; a hot cup of coffee and the hat and gloves Esme had both nagged him about taking along -and had resorted to shoving into the pockets of his coat before he stepped out the door- enough to stave off the chill. And he’s leaning back against the wrought iron fence and sipping the strong brew -two shots of espresso helping to fight off the lingering exhaustion from jet lag- when the gate to the park swings open. It’s a highly controlled and private area. Only those who live in Gramercy Park have access; given keys when they take up residence. And while he isn’t necessarily worried about the stranger joining them, that old inkling of hyper-vigilance never fails to make an appearance when he spots an unfamiliar face. It’s the years spent on the job; burning bridges and stepping on toes and making a lot of enemies along the way. Revenge is par for the course; dirtbags sticking up for other dirtbags and seeking vengeance for fellow drug lords, rapists, murders, child predators. The list is vast and seemingly endless; he’s gone up against the lowest of the low and somehow lived to tell about.

The worry is always there; that someone will come looking for him and then use his greatest weaknesses to destroy him. It’s why he’s extra careful now; willing to do anything in his power to keep his family safe. Five years ago had been bad enough; if word got back to the wrong people that it was his business employing the mercenaries sent to clean up messes, the result wouldn’t be pretty. Far more devastating and widespread than what happened at the hands of Mahajan and Asif’s remaining people. And while he highly doubts that the woman and child stepping through the gate pose a threat, his brain immediately tends to think of the worst. Especially when one of his children -arguably the most vulnerable of them all- is with him. But he manages a polite smile in the woman’s direction, then shuffles his weight from foot to foot when she approaches; an attempt to keep warm and his discomfort at the idea of having to be social. It was one of the things that sold on him buying the brownstone; no one bothered with him and likewise didn’t seem to give a shit that he mostly stuck to himself.

“It’s amazing how they can stand being out like this,” she comments, as she sidles up next to him.

It’s way too close his own comfort; the sleeve of her fur lined coat brushing against him. He sidesteps; putting just enough space between them to let her know she’s invading his space, yet enough to come across a complete asshole. She’s new to the area; a face he hadn’t seen last Christmas or during the month they’d spent in the Big Apple over the past summer. Tall and slender; shoulder length blond hair sticking the bottom of the black and gray knit beanie and too much make up on her face.

“My daughter LOVES the snow,” she continues, nodding in the direction of the little girl attempting to make conversation with Tanner. It can go either of three ways; Tanner acknowledging her presence and actually speaking in return, completely ignoring her and acting as if she doesn’t even exist, or he’ll be so anxious that he’ll flee to his father’s side for comfort. “It’s why she took moving here so well; used to the weather in Utah I guess. I’m Natalie,” she offered a slender hand encased in a lambskin glove.

“Tyler. You just moved here?”

“Couple weeks ago. Took a job with Goldman Sachs. I’ve always wanted to live here, mind you. A dream going back to my childhood; Central Park, Broadway shoes, shopping at Bergdorfs. A lot of stuff on my to do list. Your accent; you’re a long way from home.”

“Our second place is here. Kids love coming to stay. Especially during the winter. They love having a white Christmas.”

“Must be a change. Going from somewhere hot and sunny to this. Why go from the ocean and the sand to snow and slush? And most of all, why New York City?”

“My wife spent some time here. Fell in love with it. Always wanted to get back. And our oldest lives here. In Queens. He’s in his first year of med school.”

“You have a kid old enough to have done four years of undergrad and is now in med school?”

Tyler nods. There’s no need for specifics. No reason to tell a complete stranger about Ovi and his background and how he’d wound up going from Mumbai to Colorado and then onto Australia. That part of their lives is firmly rooted in the past; Dhaka, Asif, Mahajan Senior. And it’s not something either of them enjoy revisiting. The years have gone by excruciatingly slow; leaving mountains of mental and physical issues behind. “I’ve got grandkids too.”

“Seriously?”

“Two of them. Boy and a girl. Three and eight months.”

“You’re a grandpa?”

“As much as I hate being called that, yeah. I am.”

“Makes you feel old? Being called that?”

“Just thinking about it makes me feel old.” He takes a swig of coffee; watching as Tanner abandons his snowman and his new playmate in favour of returning to the swings. The ten year old is doing better than expected; not growing agitated or anxious when the little girl immediately follows him and once more attempts to make conversation.

“How old is he?”

“Ten. Eleven next month.”

“He’s shy. Or he’s already playing hard to get when it comes to girls.”

“He has Autism. Aspergers. It’s one of the things he struggles with; making friends.”

“I’m sorry, it must be hard. It must be…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I mean, look at him. He’s healthy. He’s happy for the most part. He’s beautiful. He’s a good kid. A REALLY good kid. We’re lucky to have him.”

“And are those your only two? The med student and him? Quite the age gap.”

“Actually, I have six more at home.”

Natalie’s eyes widen. “You have eight kids?”

“I do. Well, technically the oldest one isn’t mine. Not by blood. We took him in when he was fifteen. But I do have six more at home.”

“All biological?”

Tyler nods.

“All with the same mother?”

“Every last one of them.”

“I don’t know whether you’re crazy or brave. Or a mix of both.”

“Guess that’s up for debate. It’s a pretty full house.”

“God help the woman who got pregnant SEVEN times.”

“It was actually only five times. We have two sets of twins. Ten and five.”

“Wow,” Natalie laughs. “That’s quite the brood. You don’t see that very often these days; big families like that.”

“Once we started, we couldn’t stop I guess. We were supposed to be done at four, but…”

“Things happened.”

“That’s one way of putting it. You said you just moved here?”

“Number thirty-three. You?”

“Eleven.”

“The one right on the corner? With the two dogs? A shepherd and a…”

“Australian shepherd. Mac and Saju. Two major pains in the ass.”

“They love to stand on the couch. Look out the front window. My daughter always waves to them. She keeps hoping one day they’ll be outside. So she can meet them.”

“They’re standing on the couch because they like to spy on the neighbours. And growl and bark at the squirrels. They’re used to koalas and kangaroos. Not squirrels. They’re not the brightest, but they’re loyal.”

“I walked by the other day and when I saw all the kids out front, I thought it might be a daycare. That was a nanny with them? Cute little thing with dark hair. Didn’t look old enough to be their mom.”

“That IS their mom,” he confirms. “My wife is very tiny and cute. And I agree; she does NOT look old enough to have that many kids.”

“It would be nice to meet some of the other families around here. There aren't many with young kids, so it was a relief to see people at the park. My daughter’s always looking for new friends.”

“Well, she’s got a lot to choose from at our house, that’s for sure. I don’t think the wife would mind if you popped by. She’s the social butterfly. Complete opposite of me.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be holding your own in this conversation. A little gruff at times and straight to the point, but…”

“This is me on my best behaviour. It doesn’t get any better.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I think it’s perfectly fine how it is.”

Smirking, he downs the remains of his coffee and tosses it in the nearby trash. It’s a line that’s been crossed. Not appreciating little smiles and flirtatious comments and the insistent way she keeps stepping even closer to him; not realizing that he grows more agitated and uncomfortable each time he moves away. It’s annoying; unwanted attention even AFTER you’ve told someone that you’re married. Most women -and some men- seem to take it as a challenge; an extra thrilling chase to land someone that’s declared themselves unavailable. And maybe it’s worked for them before; landing a guy that claims to be happily married and getting him to abandon all his morals and betray the one person he’s supposed to love more than life itself. But that sure as hell ISN’T him. He doesn’t need or want anyone else. Perfectly content to spend the rest of his existence with just one person; happy to wake up to the same face every day, kiss the same lips and make love to the same body , and hear the same voice and laugh.

“Daddy!” Tanner calls as he bounds through the snow; wrapping both arms around one of Tyler’s thighs. “Can we go now? I’m getting cold. And I miss mum.”

“Yeah, we can go. I bet she misses you too.”

“Hey there, cutie.” Natalie smiles, and crouches down to the little boy’s level.

“No,” Tanner shakes his head and slides behind Tyler, hiding himself behind his father’s legs. “Please don’t.”

“He doesn’t like eye contact. Not with people he doesn’t know. Scares him. It’s okay, Nug.” Reaching behind his body, he lays a hand on the back of Tanner’s head and gently pushes; encouraging him to come out of hiding. “Don’t be nervous. I’m right here. Nothing’s going to happen. Just people trying to meet you. Wanting to be friends.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Just someone being nice. Can you come on out? At least say hi? There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Come on…” he lifts one leg, allowing Tanner to slip between them. “...can you just say hi? I won’t ask for more than that.”

Tanner nods, both arms once more wrapping around his father’s thigh; body leaning into him, needing that comfort and support. “Hi.”

"I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Natalie says. “Just trying to make friends. What’s your name?”

Tanner glances up at his dad. Looking for reassurance. And permission.

“It’s okay. You can tell her.”

He looks back at the woman in front of him. “Tanner.”

“How old are you?”

“Ten. Almost eleven.”

“I hear you have a lot of brothers and sisters.”

He nods. “I have a twin. He’s older than I am. His name’s Tyler. Like daddy.”

“And is he as handsome? As you and daddy?”

“I don’t know. I guess. He’s really tall. And strong. Like daddy. He’s almost taller than mummy already!”

“Well your mum’s pretty tiny,” Tyler reasons, and straightens out Tanner’s scarf and hat; pulling the beanie down over the tops of his ears. “Speaking of mum, want to go see her?”

“Yeah,” Tanner nods enthusiastically. “I wanna see her. I miss her. I want to give her a hug. And her goodies. We got mum her favourites,” he addresses Natalie. “Mummy loves croissants. From a certain place. So daddy and I took the subway to get them. And he got her something really nice. From a really expensive jewellery store. There was lots of sparkly stuff in there. Mummy likes sparkly stuff but never lets daddy buy her any. She says he spoils her too much.”

Natalie smiles. I’m sure your mom deserves to be spoiled.”

“Oh, she definitely does. She’s the best mummy. And the prettiest. She puts up with a lot. Especially from Millie. That’s my oldest sister. She’s a bitch.”

Tyler frowns. “Tanner….”

“I’m just sayin’. Millie is really mean. She’s almost a teenager. That’s why. They get mean at that age. Girls. That’s what daddy says.”

“And on that note,” Tyler chuckles. “I think we should go home. You’re gonna wanna pee soon, aren’t ya.”

“Yeah. And you can’t drop your pants and go in the bushes here. Wayyyy too cold. I got snow in my boot. My sock is wet. I can’t walk in wet socks.”

“You could if you wanted to. It’s like a hundred feet away.”

“Naw. I don’t like it. The feeling. My foot is cold. And wet. My sock is too squishy.”

“You’re demanding.” Scooping Tanner up with one hand, he settles him on his hip, then reaches for the bags he’d hung earlier on the rungs of the fence. “Ready to go? Go and see and mummy?”

“Ready, Freddy. I’m hungry.”

“Me too.”

“You’re ALWAYS hungry. Giants eat a lot. Bye” ! Tanner waves a mitten in farewell in Natalie’s direction. “I like your hat, by the way. I like the panda bear pin on it. It’s sparkly. And I like panda bears.”

“Well, I like your glasses. You’re awful cute, you know that.”

“Cute like daddy, smart like mummy,” Tanner declares, as he curls an arm around his dad’s neck. “Bye new friend!”

“Bye, kiddo. You be good. Although something tells me you always are.”

Tanner giggles. “You’ll change your mind once you get to know me. I can be really annoying.”

“Something tells me you’re more cute than annoying.”

“Just you wait,” he singsongs, and then gives one final wave before being carried out the gate.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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haikyall · 3 years

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AO3

ayoo~ this is for sonderdaisies in instagram and discord! Here’s your prompt in my entry for @bnhagiftexchange WC: 4.7K

Pairings: Hawks & Miruko (Keigo Takami & Rumi Usagiyama) AU/Prompt: Musician AU,

Summary: Music brings people together, even if you see each other at work... and live across the street from one another

Three hours. It has been three hours since Rumi has started looking for her portfolio. That portfolio had the pieces she wanted to present to her leader when they start rehearsal tomorrow. That portfolio could bring her career to new heights. That portfolio could get her a promotion. The portfolio is missing.

Her house is already a mess because of trying to flip it upside down just to look for that flimsy clear book. She hates the fact that she is forgetful and things like this happen on the daily basis.

Maybe it’s under the bed— you already checked the bed— how about one more ti— you checked it five times already. Inside the couch? You can’t rip open your couch, Rumi. I can watch me. Okay, where are you going to get a new one? Fuck where is it? I swear I won’t be able to practice tonight without those.

She knows it’s not at the rehearsal studio, she remembers putting it in her envelope… where is her envelope? Rumi suddenly has the motivation to look for something else. Did I leave it at the studio?!?!

Her frustration gets the better of her and she starts to aggressively look for the clear envelope. She gets more annoyed as more time passes and she hasn’t found the thing yet. Her annoyed self got more pissed to know the fact that it was ten in the night. She annoyingly grunts and then she hears it…

Soft piano playing. It was Clair de Lune, Haydn. It was calming, soothing. The volume was soft enough to be heard by neighbors whose houses are just across the street but not loud enough to be causing any disruption. It was like the house the sound was coming from was a huge music box.

Whoever was playing the piano, was very good. The emotions were displayed perfectly and mixing some of their own. You would know if you’re emotional in playing by simply catching the attention of the unsuspecting audience. Rumi notices how the pianist speeds up by half a second and after a while of playing they would realize the speed and calm down. That’s not how you play the song.

The song calmed Rumi down. She listened to it for quite a while, settling on the couch while thinking if she did leave her life’s work at her office. Her brain goes haywire thinking if she even labeled her stuff. She scolds herself for being so damn irresponsible, this wouldn’t be happening because of it.

Her eyelids start to droop the more she listens to the goddamn classical piano player. Times like these are when she wants to throw something to the other house to shut the people up there but this time she has absolutely no reason and energy for that.

Rumi blacks out.

Rumi Usagiyama is late and it was a difference of five minutes… five minutes led to thirty because of her extensive care for her silver hair that reaches the curves of her hips. That same thirty minutes led to an hour because of searching “how to cook pancakes” on Google and ultimately failing, leading her to just settle with cold pizza on her fridge. An hour flew to an hour and forty-five minutes as she was looking for her sheet music which led her to have a massive breakdown because she was missing pages and had to print everything again, and then she realizes that she’s running five minutes late which lead to a total of an hour and fifteen minutes late with ten minutes tardy time.

If it weren’t for that fucking pianist and their fucking Haydn I wouldn’t be so late and slept on the couch.

She frantically runs to her rehearsal room where everyone involved in the project we're talking, tuning their instruments, eating, resting, or a combination of a few. It was like this every morning, you enter a room of people you’ll work with for a few months to play for a musical, and then when the project ends you act like you didn’t know each other’s life story and how they came around with their instrument.

It was always so noisy.

The tan girl sighs as she expects another classic sermon from her superiors saying that “she should be more responsible” or that “if you loved music, maybe be more punctual”.

Well, I happen to love pancakes too so shove your fucking violin bows up your asses. We don’t even play the same fucking instruments.

Rumi sighs as she smiles and bows apologetically to her superiors. Her superiors shake their head and leave her little space in the wide rehearsal room and rolling her eyes, she sits down, reviewing her sheet music as a way of prepping herself.

“Chill down, baby bird, you look like you were gonna pounce on them if they didn’t walk away,” Rumi sighs in relief at recognizing who’s voice now was towering over. The voice laced with concern but 90% consisted of cockiness. She looks up and sees a blond, and stout Keigo Takami with an amused eyebrow raised.

Rumi sends a scowl onto Keigo’s way, “Hahaha, very funny Kei,” Keigo chuckles as he squats to Rumi’s level as she attempts to focus on her work.

“I am quite the crowd-pleaser myself if you didn’t notice,” The blond dude says in reply and it takes for the tan girl to process what in tarnation her colleague just let out.

Rumi peels her eyes off her sheet music one more time, and shakes her head, “No, why would I— why are you even here?” She asks annoyingly to the smirking Keigo who was also looking at her sheet music.

The blond man stands up, “Just wanted to remind you we have rehearsal in five, baby bird— oh, you guys have a similar sheet music to the stringed instruments,”

The silver-haired grumbles as she realizes that Keigo was doing her a favor, she completely forgot about the rehearsal, “Thanks, Kei, I’ll keep it in mind” Keigo turns around but seems to have forgotten to say something and turns back to Rumi who is now doing air-drumming movements, aligning her hands on the imaginary lyre, playing the piece with the correct notes in her head.

“Also, uhh you left some of your sheet music here” Keigo hands her a portfolio with her name at the front and where all of her missing sheet music pages were located. Rumi mentally slaps herself in the face to scold herself for forgetting such an important thing in her life let alone make Keigo return it.

Rumi grabs the portfolio “I was wondering where that went… thank you, sorry about that,” She apologizes and Keigo finally turns around gives her a thumbs up. She remembers a part of her conversation and yells back.

“AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, PIANOS ARE BOTH STRINGED AND PERCUSSION SO DON’T DISCRIMINATE SHIT, BABY CARROT,”

Keigo smiles to himself, finally, a decent reply. The thumbs-up he was showing just now flips and turns into a middle finger as he walks back to his little space of the rehearsal room.

Rumi smiles at the non-verbal reply and shakes her head. He seems to know how to cheer things up huh? She examines the smooth texture of her clear portfolio, once again scolding herself, clutching the plastic material in anger.

So… I had a mental breakdown, and wasted my time for fUCKING NOTHING?!?!?!

___________________

Keigo packs up the last of the things he needs to take his leave from the rehearsal studio. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and starts to stride away out of the building.

The blond man stands in line waiting for the subway to arrive, as he does an old lady in a kimono outfit comes up behind him.

“You have grown, young bird”

Keigo is stunned, is this lady talking to the right guy? The pianist looks in both directions, checking to see if she is talking to the right person. The lady giggles as she sees that Keigo points to himself to be even more sure that it was him.

“Do I know you?” Keigo asks

The old lady smiles, “No, but I’ve seen you grow on this exact hallway, I’m proud of what you’ve done” She then proceeds to point at the place where Keigo used to play songs as people walked by, grateful for any change they drop him with. Keigo remembers this in an instant and scratches the back of his head in embarrassment.

“O-oh, th-thank you, ma’am” He bows toward the elderly and she starts to enter the train,

“Enjoy your trip home,”

Keigo smiles, “You too ma’am” He then enters the train as well.

__________________

Keigo then arrives home to hear xylophones to be the sound that greets him. He’s aware that one of his neighbors plays the xylophone. Keigo is sure it's not anyone from work as the xylophone pieces were never the pieces they would play at work. He assumes that they would practice the workpieces given that the performance is just a week away from now. The xylophone pieces were just popular songs. He sometimes hums along to the songs his neighbor chose. It was like Keigo’s evening couldn’t be complete without at least hearing one note of the xylophone, it served as his lullaby into the night.

Keigo doesn’t complain about the noise. It’s not noise, it was one of the most beautiful harmonies one could ever hear. He would trade the world to hear it again.

“Not in the mood today, huh?” He says to himself as he hears that the xylophone notes were just being played at random, not a single beat or harmony was being made. It was like they were being played out of frustration like a person was venting their anger or whatever they were feeling onto the instrument. He decides to not join them for tonight and sighs at the fact that he won’t be practicing the piano.

Keigo wanders how his neighbor is even still playing, he swore that the amount of frustration they’re letting out onto the instrument seems enough to break the sticks used to make the sound of it. He’s impressed that the xylophone itself is still in one piece to be exact.

Keigo never had the energy or time to know who exactly was his neighbor due to his work and his dedication to it. His neighbor may have thought otherwise and never introduced themselves when they first moved in. He didn’t mind, he respected their privacy plus, it would be extremely awkward if he introduces himself now and not five months ago.

He listens to how frustrated his neighbor seems to be. He chuckles at times when he hears the same key is being played like they were annoyed by the sound of it and tries to fix it by repeatedly playing the note.

Even if the xylophone isn’t exactly playing any song right now, he still believes that it’s still harmony in some way, it invokes emotion… well... his emotions, it was like the instrument was talking to him, ranting on how crappy their day was, a broken music box. He found the thought both funny and intriguing. Sometimes, he wants to know what’s got the lyre player in such a sour mood like this.

As Keigo listens to the horrific music. He searches up piano music sheets as more xylophone playing was starting to give him a headache. “Your Name, huh? Is this what you wanted to learn, baby bird?” He asks himself, remembering one of the pieces that were in Rumi’s portfolio. Keigo simply couldn’t help it, the clear book was thick, and he’s a curious man.

The music then stops, Keigo looks at the time; 10:00 pm. Ah, they should stop now. He notices that whenever it was ten sharp, the music stops, even if it was in the middle of a song. It was their bedtime, Keigo then decides to also call it a night and starts to close all the lights and prepare for bed.

___________________

Rumi barges into the rehearsal room, she sighs in relief to see that no one was there yet. She woke up early today, she didn’t get to practice any songs last night and it pissed her off. She was so busy scolding herself with forgetting the portfolio of her pieces that she had forgotten the more important matter, practicing the exact songs in her portfolio.

She didn’t want to be a burden to the other lyre players since it was evident who knew how to play the lyre if they practiced their pieces before going to work and it would be hella embarrassing if Rumi didn’t have any songs to present her lyre group with.

It was a tradition that the lyre group makes lyre versions of popular songs, everyone in the building loves it. The sounds resembled that of a music box, melodic, lullaby-like, gentle, and peaceful, just with six other xylophones playing.

She then grabs a music sheet stand and shoves her portfolio on it, and she starts playing in an instant. She takes notes of the pauses and how the song escalates. Maybe the group will choose her songs, the songs she’s been choosing have been very difficult, those kinds of songs kind of gives an appealing view to their leader.

Rumi chose quite a popular song, it was “Sparkle” from the movie Your Name. She chose it mainly because she cried at the ending more than she would like to admit. She skips the repetitive piano intro and starts straight at the D#. It was quite a simple piece, she was hoping that the leader would somehow make it more complicated. The leader would always encourage them to bring him something more simple to make it grander to play since he can turn it more difficult the more they play together.

The silver-haired girl has been tapping on the same notes over and over again but seems to slowly lose count on how many times she should be playing a specific note. “Five D#… wait no… wasn’t it four?”

She plays the notes again to confirms her suspicion and she starts to anger herself at how much she confused herself over the starting line of the notes she’s playing. “If it weren’t for me and my forgetful ass and forgot the fucking portfolio, I wouldn’t be here right now cram practicing,” she grumbles to herself as she lashes her anger on the flipping of pages on her portfolio.

She starts to get impatient with herself since she keeps on making the same mistake on the same note. For some reason, she isn’t keeping track of how many times her glockenspiel on the metal plates “GODDAMMIT ALREADY” She screams out in frustration, flinging her stick towards the other side of the room.

The stick barely misses the incoming blond male that enters the room. His eyes follow the direction of the stick as it hits the wall, taking precautions to not get hit by another stick. He notices that the stick is not a usual drum stick but is more similar to a lyre stick… Rumi. “Woah there, take a chill pill, Rumi,” Keigo says as he enters the room.

“Keigo… hi,” Rumi breathes in and composes herself and Keigo finds this a perfect time to piss her off even more

“Hello baby‘I'm pissed and I throw my stick in anger but luckily I'm alone’bird” Keigo teases while making air quotes as he says the nickname with his index and middle fingers. Rumi rolls her eyes. She paces across the room to pick up her poor glockenspiel as the other person in the room settles his place on the piano

“Well not anymore,” She grumbles and Keigo simply chuckles.

“What you practicing?”

“Just for some presentation,” Rumi shrugs off the question and focuses to prepare to start playing.

“Can I listen?” Keigo says in pure curiosity and Rumi’s answer went out faster before she even thought of saying it.

“NO!”

“And why not?” Keigo asks, raising an eyebrow at the sudden response.

“BECAUSE I HAVENT….” Rumi answers a bit too fast again and shuts herself up and tries to concentrate again on the piece.

“You haven’t what Rumi? I’m not a fortune teller over here and even if you do say no, I’m still going to listen,” Keigo points out and Rumi huffs in frustration at the man’s persistence. She hated at the fact that Keigo is right. He’s assigned to the same orchestra as her so he can’t possibly leave the room, and it’s not like he can’t listen to it even if he wanted to.

“Ihaven’tpracticedityet” Rumi says in a quick and silent voice. Keigo was impressed she managed to speak in a volume that's still too quiet even if they were the only two people in the room

“Sorry what? You were too soft” Keigo says, genuinely and for spite. Rumi inhales deeply, calming herself down before reiterating what she just said, in a slower and louder manner.

“I haven’t practiced yet,”

Keigo scoffs, that’s what she’s so worried about? He looks at her dead in the eye. “I’ll help you then,”

“What’s the piece?” Keigo asks, stretching his fingers as preparation to start playing.

“Sparkle, from—” Rumi calmly says

“—Your Name”

“Your Name,” They both say simultaneously. An awkward silence fills the room and they both freeze at the realization that they said something at the same time.

“Do you play the intro?” Keigo asks and Rumi shakes her head.

“No, it hurts the ears if I play it on the lyre” She explains and Keigo nods.

He then shrugs his shoulders and faces the piano, “I’ll play it then,”

“Whenever you’re ready then,”

Keigo’s hands lay on the white and black pieces, awaiting the right signal to himself to start playing. He calms his senses and takes a sharp inhale of breath. His fingers then start to wander and dance on the piano and the first notes are finally played.

Rumi waits for the repetitive beginning to finally come to an end and joins Keigo in the next measure. The piano and the sound of the lyre start to compliment each other, Rumi is impressed that she can play better with the guidance of a piano… Or maybe it’s Kei— NOPE IT'STHE PIANO.

The flow of the music was so enchanting, the music was attracting the people who weren’t assigned to the studio. The piece itself was already hard to play on the piano alone, concentration only became harder for both as they hear people crowding the entrance of the room. The pressure was killing the pair in the most silent yet obvious manner.

Don’t fuck up, Rumi. Don’t you dare fuck it up now? It’s going to be so fucking embarrassing for Keigo if you dare mess it up. Oh my fucking god, too fast, too fast, too fAST—

It was obvious that the piece was escalating for some reason and Rumi was panicking at the pace they were going for many reasons. One, the tan girl hasn’t memorized the piece, meaning she has to look at both the piece and her xylophone. She’s starting to wonder why on earth she’s speeding up.

Was she not following the time signature? Maybe she didn’t time the rests right. Shit, did she forget to play a note again? Rumi looks at Keigo and everything starts to fall into place. Keigo is panicking.

Keigo’s eyes were so focused on playing the piece it was like he was solely playing the piano on his own. His fingers are going too fast, it wasn’t obvious to the audience but he was a least two beats advanced. He’s forgetting what piece even was in the first place. His eyes are too wide. Keigo is going too fast.

“Keigo!” Rumi screams out. Keigo hears it and he turns around and he finally sees it. Rumi isn’t looking at him but he can see her struggle, the way her eyes are flipping from the notes to the actual instrument was her way of panicking and telling Keigo to slow it down, any faster and she’s going to have to make a mistake on the way of trying to keep up.

“Sorry,” Keigo mouths out and he tries to mellow down the speed but it ends up being too fast for Rumi’s speed again. Rumi hasn’t seen Keigo’s response Rumi feels like her arm is about to fall off. She’s just pulling through the fact that the song is about to end… Okay maybe choosing the six-minute version of the song was a bad idea.

The song finally ends and they get applause from the people who were watching them. The pair never really processed how many people were watching. It looked like only a few caught on to the fact that they were a bit too fast and the fact they ended a bit early because of it.

Keigo and Rumi share a hug and Rumi hit’s Keigo’s nape in the process. “That was pretty stupid of you, Keigo,”

“Sorry about that,”

Keigo and Rumi turn to the crowd and simply bows in gratitude.

“What is going on in here?” The head of the lyre group comes in, the crowd quiets down their noise. It shows on their face that they have no idea why there is a crowd and why Rumi and Keigo are bowing as it turns out the head of the lyre group has just arrived in the building and hasn’t watched the entire scene play out.

“Ah, Keigo was helping me practice,” Rumi explains with a bright smile, satisfied she even finished the song. The leader raises an eyebrow as Keigo bows in front of them, a way of greeting.

“Is that so?”

“She couldn’t get the timing right,” Keigo explains, why he is helping her in the first place.

The leader crosses their hands on their chest, “It sounds to me, you also couldn’t get the timing right, Keigo,” They say with a menacing voice.

“He got nervous, chill out,” Rumi defends.

“A musician that can’t play at the right time signature shouldn’t be playing in the first place,” The leader says, smirking. They’ve pissed off Keigo, it was obvious by the way he was looking down, fist clenched. He’s holding in every urge to bite back at the way the leader was taunting the pair.

“Is that your way of telling Rumi her song choice sucked?” Keigo quietly asks.

“Excuse me?”

“You weren’t here for the performance, more likely you came by the end of it, I can see it in your face,” Keigo points out the bewilderedness of the guy the moment they came in. He can tell that they haven’t calmed down from the shock of the people and the ending of the song.

“That’s not what I—“

“I wasn’t finished,” Keigo says, Rumi is freaking out. She’s trying to calm Keigo down by gripping his arm and silent whispers, scolding his name but Keigo persists and continues, “Now, if you’re going to tell me and Rumi that the piece she chose doesn’t suit your style, then maybe you shouldn’t be a leader because of that selfish thought, 3/4 of your lyre group are already here and they are looking at you with pretty nasty looks,” Keigo reminds the leader as he points to some people in the crowd and the leader sees their members looking at him menacingly or not even looking at them.

“Anyways, if you don’t like the help of other people from your same orchestra, maybe you should take a chill pill,” Keigo says, packing up his stuff and leaving.

“Keigo— wait!” Rumi says, gathering her stuff as well and following shortly, completely ignoring her leader.

“Where are you going?” She says after chasing up to the blond man.

“Home,”

“Let me come with you,”

“but—“ Keigo tries to retort, seeing that the silver-haired girl still has work and has to present the piece they were practicing in the first place yet that same girl cuts him off,

“It’s the least I could do after everything you said, dumbass,”

“Fine,” Keigo sighs continues on his journey with Rumi.

___________________

They both wait for the subway train to arrive, and as they do so, a new but familiar voice enters their conversation, “Hello there, young bird,”

Rumi is shocked to hear an old voice from behind her so she turns around. Keigo already knew the voice so his calm stature doesn’t change, “Hello,” Keigo says, bowing in respect.

“Where are you going?” The old lady asks.

“Home, people at work like to be asses today,”

“I get that, you have a pretty guest too,” The old lady points at Rumi who has a tint of blush on her cheeks after being called pretty.

“Hi, I’m Rumi Usagiyama,” She says, bowing as well

“Hello there, little bunny, ah… well I have to be going, have a wonderful day you two,” The elderly woman says, looking at her watch and departing.

“Take care!” Keigo says as he watches her depart from them. He notices the soft gaze of Rumi as she watches the elder woman disappear, “… you like being called pretty~” He says, teasing the smaller human.

“N-NO I DO NOT,” Rumi says, eyes wide, color creeping up her cheeks, and hits Keigo’s shoulder on instinct.

“Hey, what was that for?” Keigo says a hand goes to the injured area. Not all that injured but still painful.

Rumi rolls her eyes, “You are annoying,”

“You like it when I’m annoyin— okAY OKAY I’LL STOP,” Keigo tries to bite back but Rumi is already a step ahead and pinches and twists Keigo’s ear. The train finally arrives and the two finally calm down and board the train.

___________________

They are finally walking to what Keigo calls his home. As they walk through, Rumi notices how this path seems familiar. Too familiar. It’s like she knows it because she’s been here every day. That’s exactly what it was.

Is he going to make a left there? But I also live there. Then straight ahead for two intersections then another left. wAIT A SECOND—

“You live here?” Rumi asks and the question catches Keigo off guard. Of course, he lives here, where else was this girl expecting?

“Yeah… is there a problem?”Keigo slowly answers. Rumi’s brain is doing the most before short-circuiting again, everything seems to fall into place.

“Did you just so happen to hear instruments playing from your other neighbors?” Rumi asks an oddly specific question “Cause ya know, you’re not the only one who can play an instrument.” She explains and Keigo nods.

“Yeah, just yesterday this neighbor of mine must’ve been pissed~ they were making the most random of notes I swear, poor xylophone just wanted some rest,” He chuckles and Rumi nods. Did this asshat just say xylophone? yeSTERDAY?!

“ARE YOU THE ONE WHO PLAYED CLAIR DE LUNE THE OTHER DAY?!” Rumi again asks a specific question and Keigo answer it absent-mindedly.

“Yes, how did you—“

“WE’RE NEIGHBORS YOU FUCKHEAD,” Rumi freaks out and Keigo doesn’t seem to be on the same page as her.

“… what?”

“The xylophone playing yesterday wAS ME,” Rumi explains that she was the mastermind of the horrific music and Keigo slowly starts to understand.

“YOU?!?!” Keigo points at a laughing Rumi. “WHY WERE YOU PISSED?!”

“CAUSE I LEFT THIS GODDAMN PORTFOLIO AND THE LEADER GOT PISSED AT ME FOR IT,” Rumi explains while waving the envelope she was looking for one and a half days ago.

“BUT I RETURNED IT TO YOU” Keigo tries to make sense of the situation

“EXACTLY WHY I WAS PISSED,” Rumi says as Keigo shakes his head, everything finally clicks into place and they both have calmed down, “Thank you, for a while ago,” Rumi silently says, remembering how they even found out the new information in the first place. She sees her house and yet they turn the opposite way.

“Hmm? Oh, no problem, was getting sick and tired of them treating you like shit anyway,” Keigo simply says as they finally arrive at his home, Rumi feels weirded out at the fact that she isn’t at her house but the house right in front of it.“Care for coffee, neighbor?”

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