#Ryan Brenner x You

[lavenderstobins]

MY OTHER AUS

Steddie Ghost (1990) AU

Steve finds himself as a ghost in a mugging gone wrong. After learning his attack wasn’t an accident, he’s desperate to warn Robin of the danger she might be in. Enter Eddie, a not-so-con psychic, who can hear Steve. [tag]

Ronance Life is Strange AU

Steve Harrington is missing, Chrissy Cunningham is acting weird, and Nancy Wheeler discovers she can rewind time after seeing Robin Buckley get shot in the school bathroom.  Or: Nancy Wheeler falling for a dead girl. [tag]

Until Dawn AU

Four years prior, Barbara Holland disappeared on the mountain at Steve Harrington’s parents’ winter lodge. After the whole ordeal with Vecna, Nancy starts looking into the mountain, suspecting Barb’s disappearance might’ve been related to the Upside Down. When she learns that several others have gone missing in recent years, she convinces Steve to bring them all to the lodge to investigate. [tag]

Modern Josieverse

Basically what it says on the tin. Single parent Robin but in modern day. [tag]

Missing Kid AU

Some years after everything, Holly Wheeler finds a baby in the boathouse. When the baby leviatates something in front of her, she takes her to Wayne Munson, who takes her in. Kat Munson grows up with no idea who her birth parents are or why she was dumped in the boathouse. When she turns twelve, she sets out to find her birth mom. Or: 11 years after believing her daughter to be dead, Robin Buckley comes face to face with her missing daughter. [tag]

Ronance Atonement AU

When some of the Wheelers’ valuables are stolen, Mike points the finger at Robin, who he had seen with Nancy in the library prior. This is something he regrets for the rest of his life.  [tag]

Ronance One Night Stand + Accidental Pregnancy AU

Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley meet for the first time in a club in California. They have a one night stand and don’t exchange their information. A month later, Robin discovers she’s pregnant. She knows it has to be Nancy’s but she can’t find her to tell her, no matter how hard she tries. Three years later, Nancy and Mike move to Hawkins and Nancy discovers she has a two year old son.  An AU where Robin and Nancy coparent their kid and slowly fall in love along the way. Featuring transfem Nancy, transfem Stevie, transmasc Eddie and (briefly) single mom Robin. [tag]

QPR Stobin raising their kid AU

Steve and Robin are platonic life partners, lavender-married and raising their kid together. When their daughter comes out as a trans girl in her teens, they do their best to be the most supportive they can be. [tag]

Ronance She-Ra AU

Robin as Adora, Nancy as Catra. Sometimes flipped around for fun. [tag]

Ronance Transistor AU

Nancy comes to and finds that her voice has been stolen and her girlfriend killed. Robin’s consciousness has been absorbed into the Transistor, the weapon that killed her, so Nancy takes it and embarks on a journey to avenge her, putting an end to Brenner’s plan for good. [tag] [art]

Ronance Stobin The X-Files AU

Agent Wheeler finds herself assigned to work with Agent Buckley, who is well-known for cracking after her old partner’s disappearance. Adjacent to novakiart’s AU. [tag]

Stobin Ghost Files AU

Steve and Robin as Ryan and Shane. [tag]

Stobin Russian Doll AU

The day of his 24th birthday, Steve Harrington dies. This seems to an event that keeps occurring. AKA Steve (and Robin) stuck in a time loop, based off the show Russian Doll. [tag]

Ronance Good Omens AU

Nancy’s an angel. Robin’s a demon. Follows seasons 1&2 of Good Omens. [tag] [art]

Murder Suspect Nancy AU

November of 1983, Nancy goes home with Barb, and everything changes. A plot rewrite in a universe where Nancy is accused of murder in 1986 instead of Eddie. [tag]

AUs I haven’t posted about yet

Ronance Wizards of Waverly Place AU

The Wheelers are wizards. Steve and Jonathan, Nancy’s best friends, know. Robin, who Nancy is nursing a huge crush on, apparently doesn’t, and isn’t meant to. How do you woo a girl without accidentally revealing your family secret? Nancy’s determined to find out.

Ronance mermaid AU

Nancy’s a mermaid. Robin’s the best friend of the kingdom’s prince. When Robin almost drowns sailing with Prince Steve during a storm, Nancy saves her, piquing her curiousity about the human kingdom. She makes a deal with Henry Creel to trade her tail for human legs. The condition is that Creel gets her voice… and some other conditions she doesn’t hear about until after she signs. Mermaid Nancy falling for human Robin, vaguely following the plot of The Little Mermaid.

The Hunger Games AU (ronance, stonathan, platonic stancy)

Nancy Wheeler is reaped for the Hunger Games. To her horror, so is her little brother–until Steve Harrington volunteers in his place. Everything is centred on getting home to Mike. She plays up a romance with Steve, thinking it’s fake to him, too. They survive, only to be thrust back into things. That’s where they meet Robin Buckley, a previous victor from another district. Steve begins to fall for their mentor, Jonathan Byers, and against her better judgement, Nancy finds herself falling for Robin.

ST Yellowjackets AU

The Hawkins Tigresses find themselves stranded in the wilderness when their plane crashes on the way to nationals. Centred on Nancy, Robin and Eddie.

Ronance Dishonoured AU

Nancy as Corvo Attano, Robin as Jessamine Kaldwin.

Evil Josieverse

An AU of Josieverse where Robin died when Josie was three and Steve is left to raise her.

Bucklair apocalypse AU

An Upside Down-related Zombie Apocalypse breaks out in Hawkins. Robin saves Lucas and Erica, managing to get them out of town, but they find themselves pushed further and further out. They have no idea that the rest of the group managed to set up a settlement. An AU of the three of them navigating a zombie apocalypse.

Lumax Ghosts AU

Max inherits an old estate while she and Lucas are house-hunting. They move in with Dustin, only for Max to discover that the house is haunted.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Another June prompt request for Ryan with popsicles/ice cream and fireworks please! 🍦🎆

R Y A N !

Dani, thank you for this. It was a pleasure to write. I miss this man so much. I hope you enjoy this!!

Melt

[something-tofightfor]

500 Word Kiss Challenge: Ryan Brenner

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x female reader insert (Neon Lights / Just a Place)

Word Count: 500

Rating: M (Ryan brenner got a lil smutty and I didn’t even plan on it. Oops.)

Scenario: A birthday kiss

The house was dark aside from the single light over the porch when he pulled into the driveway. Shit. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling the long strands away from his face and closed his eyes, tapping his palm on the steering wheel. “Shit.” 

It wasn’t that late; he’d driven home immediately after his gig, declining the celebratory beer offered by the bartender and the woman that had played backup for him, and he hadn’t expected the place to be dark. You’d been working when he left - hunched over your computer desk and scrolling though images you’d been sent last minute - so he’d had no choice but to leave you behind. Couldn’t pass it up, an’ she knew that. 

Ryan didn’t think you were mad at him, but you hadn’t answered his texts, and so he had no way to know for sure. Maybe she’s just busy. He slung the guitar case’s strap over his shoulder and locked the door, thumbing through the keyring to find the right one. 

 Once inside, he glanced around, frowning at the darkened interior of the house, a low light from the kitchen catching his attention. Hmm. He lowered the guitar to the couch, letting his keys drop with it, and Ryan’s booted feet carried him into the kitchen, hand trailing along the wall.

He wasn’t expecting to see you sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, legs crossed at the knee and wearing only the t-shirt he’d left in your bag in Vegas, palms pressed to the table behind you as you leaned back. “What’s goin’ -” “Happy birthday, Ryan.” It was only then that he saw the source of the glow - candles on a round cake, plated and resting on the counter to your left. “Wanted to surprise you.” Goddamn. He was moving before he realized it, crossing the space toward you. Uncrossing your legs, he stepped between them and you reached up with both hands, cradling his bearded jaw. “Surprise.” He grinned, apprehension about your mood disappearing as he leaned down, tattooed hands finding your hips through the thin material and pulling you closer. “How’d you know it was m-”

“Saw your license.” You sighed as he nipped at your earlobe before he moved his lips to your cheek and then down, nuzzling against the side of your face. “Figured you didn’t ever tell me for a reason, but …” You hummed, fingers sliding into his hair and tugging as he groaned. “Couldn’t not do something to celebrate.” 

He kissed you - hard - hoping that you could feel his gratitude for the simple act of surprising him with a cake and candles, but when Ryan backed off enough to look into your eyes, there was nothing simple there. Good. “You gonna let me do somethin’ for you before we eat that cake?” 

You didn’t reply audibly, but he felt your legs tighten against his, giving him the tiniest nod of your head and biting your lower lip. “Whatever you want, Ry.”

---

[the-blind-assassin-12]

June Prompt #4- Melt

A PASSING THROUGH FLASHFORWARD

A/N: I think of all the characters that I write, Ryan is the one that I would most want to spend my summers with and you are about to see why. I have MISSED writing this man, so when I got this request I was so excited and knew almost immediately what I wanted to do with it. This takes place about five months after Ryan stays with you in your empty apartment in Denver during that snowstorm... ** Happy 4th of July American friends! ** I hope that if you are celebrating, you’re having a (safe) blast!   

Request: “Fireworks” & “Ice cream/ Popsicles” from @suchatinyinfinity

WC: 1.7k 

Warnings: Ryan’s tongue has a mind of its own

It was summer, you knew that for sure, and you were just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. Outside of those facts though, things got a little fuzzy. It was easy to lose track of things like markings on calendars when you were on the road. Since joining Ryan last winter, you typically measured time in terms of weekdays, paying attention only to when you were supposed to be where and how long you were staying. It was simpler, counting days in batches of sevens and passing time in increments of Mondays, than it was to know which of the twenty eight to thirty one days of the month it was. 

Is it Wednesday yet? No? Then we don’t have to worry about being anywhere. 

Not due in Portland until the weekend, we still have some time. 

Two more Tuesdays in town before we need to get to the train yard. 

Days tended to melt into one another, especially in the heat of the summer, even more so in the small towns that the two of you most often frequented. The pace of life in those places was naturally slower, unrushed, daylight stretching pleasantly thin until it twisted into twilight without you even noticing for how leisurely the change occurred. That was one of the things that you liked most about your new life- it was lived on no one’s time but yours, and you were happy to live it sticky and slow, licking the sweet drippings of the day from your fingers each night as you fell asleep.

Getting to fall asleep with Ryan only made it that much sweeter. Whether you were crashing on a friend’s couch, camping outside, splurging on a motel room or sleeping under the stars while the rails rumbled beneath you, there was only one feeling that beat laying your head on his chest each night, that eclipsed drifting off with his strong arms around you, and that was waking up in that same position. The sound of his steady heart beat, his quiet breathing, the warmth of his skin through his soft tee or pressed directly to your own made for the only way that you wanted to start your mornings, no matter what day of the week it was.

It's Sunday. I think. 

Before you could spend too much time thinking about it, your train of thought was completely derailed. Your mouth dropped open as you sucked in a breath at the sight of Ryan’s tongue darting out to swipe away a splotch of thick orange syrup from the meaty part of his palm beneath his pinky and a rush of heat swept through you that had nothing to do with the Midwestern summer temperatures. 

Oh… damn it, Brenner. 

He’d walked over to the trash cans just a few feet away from where you were sitting to throw out the wrappers and wooden sticks from the popsicles that you’d just eaten, some of the sugary residue clearly getting on him in the process. You bit your bottom lip as he switched to his thumb, turning his hand over to suck at the knuckle and grinning as he finally brought his eyes up to catch you watching him. Teeth flashing as his smile widened, he dropped his hand to his side to treat you to your favorite view, unimpeded happiness making his bearded cheeks go round as a laugh started brewing in his eyes before you heard it filling the thick, hot air. 

“What are you lookin’ at, Junebug?” The tip of his tongue poked out between his lips again as he closed the distance to where you were. 

You swung your legs to hop off of the rest stop picnic bench that you were perched atop, his guitar case and your packs lined up on the seat. “Oh, I think you know what I was looking at, Ryan.” 

He chuckled, dropping his chin and using one hand to remove his hat, the other to comb his thick, unruly hair back. “Yeah,” he let out another small laugh as he tossed his hat to land in the spot you’d just vacated on the green table. Both hands free, he reached for your waist and you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply in through your nose as he tugged you close enough so that your hips bumped into his. When he spoke again, his voice was low and lazy and it made you dizzy.  “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

You reached up, right hand automatically going to the hair at the nape of his neck. Pointer finger coiling around the curls that were getting longer there, you let your other palm fit to the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder, and using both points of contact for purchase, you lifted yourself onto your toes. “I’ll bet you have a very good idea,” you muttered through your smile, pressing your own still fruit flavored lips to his. 

The small squeaky whimper that you made as his tongue entered your mouth couldn’t be helped, the chill from the ice pop still lingering like you knew it would. He hummed into the kiss as one of his large hands moved to cradle the back of your head, the crook of his thumb matching the curve of your skull to perfectly hold you in place. He let the tip of his cold tongue run along the underside of your top lip to draw another gasp from you, causing you to tilt your head and curl your fingers more tightly in his hair. Ryan deepened the kiss and it was enough to make you temporarily forget where you were, let alone what day of the week or month or year it was. 

When he did end it, he kept his lips on yours for a few extra seconds, and you could feel the warmth return to his mouth as he took a breath. “That what you had in mind?” 

“Mmm,” you nodded, the tip of your nose rubbing his as you sunk back to your real height. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Brenner.” Another laugh escaped you as your hands fell to his shoulders. “Was that orange or tangerine?” 

He returned both hands to your hips, fingers squeezing with light pressure. “I dunno, what do you think?” 

You narrowed your eyes and scrunched your lips to one side in mock speculation. “Nondescript citrus,” you decided. 

That earned you an even bigger laugh, Ryan pulling you into his chest to wrap you in his arms just as a pair of headlights pulled into the lot, the truck they belonged to sounding off two short honks. “My favorite,” he pressed the bridge of his nose against your temple as he spoke, then kissed the spot behind your ear and let you go, right hand lacing with yours. “C’mon, Junebug, that’s our ride and we got a train to catch.”

He bent down to pick up your pack, handing it to you while you reached for his hat. Ryan slung the straps of his bag over his left shoulder, then grabbed the handle of his case. When he turned to face you, you were ready with his hat, sticking it on his head as though the whole routine had been choreographed. 

It kind of has. 

Just like the days running together without your notice, the ways in which your life with Ryan filled out and changed and fused with his habits and quirks happened little by little, in rest stop parking lots, in back seats of cousins’ friends’ trucks, in the corrugated steel cars of trains that carried them across the country. 

Jimmy’s buddy Al had dropped the two of you off near the train yard just as darkness fell, his tires crunching over the gravelly dirt that lined the shoulder of the road as he pulled a U-turn to head back towards town. The two of you quickly headed to the train that Ryan had picked out days earlier, climbing aboard and passing your things to one another with the same ease that you’d picked all of the items up with, getting your belongings and yourselves into the car with plenty of time to spare before you felt the click and jolt of the wheels turning and pulling under you. 

You used the time to get comfortable, situating your pack next to Ryan’s so that you could lean back against them like pillows, his arm winding around your shoulder as you both stretched your legs out in front of you. Once you really got moving, the train picking up speed, the breeze cooled you both down, and it was almost comfortable enough to forget that it was the middle of summer. It was a clear night, not a single cloud maring your view of the stars. 

You were about to point out a certain constellation when a burst of red sparks exploded in the distance followed by a loud boom. Two more rockets went screeching up into the dark sky before popping and lighting up blue in the wake of the red sparklers still floating down. 

“Fireworks…” you realized aloud, as to your left, farther on the horizon, you noticed more of the colorful explosions going off. 

“Mmmhmm, it’s the Fourth of July, Junebug.” Ryan confirmed, pointing out a third batch that had just cropped up over the top of some tall trees. “Best place to watch the show,” he adjusted his position so that he could lay back even more, getting a better view. “Get to see ‘em from all the different towns we pass through.” You settled down so that you could have the same vantage point, Ryan’s fingers running up and down the inside of your elbow. 

“Best view,” you agreed with a sigh, then turned to kiss the underside of his jaw. “With the best company.”  

It was absolutely gorgeous, the whole blackened sky erupting in pops of radiant light. You knew that hundreds of people were watching the various displays put on by the different townships from here to Omaha, but as you lay back next to Ryan the borders between towns melting away as streaks of color and smoke and light pierced the night, it felt like the show was only for the two of you. 

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for a certain character or series, please feel free to let me know! :) 

Tags:  @something-tofightfor @suchatinyinfinity @malionnes @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @dearmarii @fific7 @traeumerinworld @obscurilicious @luminex3 @vetseras @blackbirddaredevil23 @paracosmenthusiast​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​

[the-blind-assassin-12]

This angel.

Hi Dani! Oh this angel indeed. I love him oh so much... unfortunately he is not in for fun times in Part Six of Passing Through but uh... here’s five anyway- 

Shit. You followed immediately, the toes of your boots finding the heel prints of his in the snow. “Ryan, w-”

He stopped suddenly, causing you to nearly run into him, and turned his head so that you could just make out the profile of his face in the glow of the streetlights. A puff of vapor came from his lips as he let out a breath, and you watched him curl his gloved hands into tight fists at his sides. His nose wrinkled as he sniffed, and for a few fleeting seconds you were afraid that he was just going to shake his head and keep walking.

-

send me an ask with a character from my masterlist (you can specify the series if there is more than one for that character) and i will respond with 5 lines from a corresponding wip.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

OK... Ryan Brenner! There’s a surprise 😉☺️

Oh hey, Fiona! A surprise indeed ;) Oh Ryan Brenner how I adore thee... Here’s five from Passing Through (Part Six)- 

“Why don’t you let her go, she’s tryin’ to work.” 

“Listen pal,” Kevin turned, his hand falling away from your hip but the other still firmly wrapped around your wrist. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is my-” 

Ryan’s eyes flashed like coal black lightning, his nostrils flaring slightly as he took another step closer, speaking over Kevin while still managing to keep his tone even. “She’s not your anythin’, and she’s makin’ that very clear.”

-

send me an ask with a character from my masterlist (you can specify the series if there is more than one for that character) and i will respond with 5 lines from a corresponding wip.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

🖊🖊🖊 for whoever takes your fancy! 🖤

Thanks Phoebe!! 🖤 hope you’re having a nice night!! I’m gonna go with 2 OCs + a cannon character from the Passing Through universe:

🖊 Ryan’s cousin Taylor makes INCREDIBLE Mac and Cheese. It’s the one dish the whole family looks forward to at Christmas. She hosts all the Brenners for the holiday every other year (because wrangling them all EVERY year is impossible) following this one.

🖊Reader’s brother Eli isn’t musically inclined like Reader and their mom, but he IS artistic. No, it’s not his job (he manages a hardware shop and occasionally helps out at his buddy’s pizzeria) but his special talent is blowing people’s minds with sidewalk chalk. He and reader drew with it a lot as kids and he was always good, but as an adult he’s really good and when people walk through his neighborhood and see his daughter Natalie’s cute little scribbles give way to lifelike dolphins and sharks swimming through the road, they’re always shocked.

🖊Virginia is great with a needle and thread. If Ryan is with her and he’s got holes in his shirts or if the knees and pockets of his jeans get too worn, she’ll happily offer to patch up his clothes for him. The most recent patch she sewed for him came from an old flannel of Cowboy’s.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Legend of Jade from Jacksonville

A/N: So this came from an ask meme I posted a few days ago. One of the items on the list was “write a few paragraphs about...” and then the prompter was supposed to send a character, situation and an object. Like always, I got carried away and wrote way more than a few paragraphs, so I decided to post it separately from the other two requests (which I am trying to play by the rules for.) Anyway, this turned into one of my favorite Ryan HCs, so THANK YOU @suchatinyinfinity​  for requesting this!  

Request: Ryan Brenner -- at a gas station -- $2 bill 

Word Count: 1,077

Ryan hopped down from the bed of the dark green pickup, brushing the salt dust and dried mud that stained the vehicle’s side panels from his hands after lifting the tailgate back up. Finally off of wind whipped I-25, he realized that it was roughly ten degrees warmer where they were than it was when they left the city. She was right, ‘course she was. He unzipped his sweatshirt, shedding it and tugging down the tee underneath, one he’d picked up recently when a mishap at a laundromat in Iowa left him down a handful of shirts. He smiled at the white letters reading Le Claire against a navy background. It was one you’d chosen from a souvenir shop set up right beside the riverboat museum, the Mississippi wide and full just behind it. 

Purchasing souvenirs from his travels wasn’t something that Ryan did often. I’m not on vacation, this isn’t… He’d send postcards, but that was more to stay connected to people than it was to talk about what he’d done in Albuquerque or what the weather in Shreveport was like. But a shirt from a tiny gift shop outside of a museum he did not set foot inside of somehow held enough meaning to remind him of the slight bite in the air that day on the river as you tossed him the garment with a wink, teasing him about being more careful with this one in the wash. Don’t worry, I will be.

The sound of Georgie’s voice thanking the couple who’d given them a ride made him blink and look back up. They’d offered to take the two of them all the way down to Pueblo after they got to talking following Ryan and Georgie’s set at Jake’s. But we got… I got plans in the Springs. “Thanks again Fern,” he nodded at the woman, shaking her hand as her bangles jingled around her wrist. Turning to her husband, he shook his hand as well. “Drew, I really ‘ppreciate it. You two have a safe rest of your trip.” They assured him that they would, and promised to come see them again if they ever caught wind of Ryan and Georgie playing in the area. They’re nice people, glad we met ‘em. He watched the truck pull out of the gas station and back onto the dusty road as he stretched his legs and arched his back. 

“Alright Brenner, I need a coffee, an’ I’m gonna grab a sandwich or somethin’ cause I’m-” Georgie hoisted his bag and case over his shoulder and Ryan did the same as the two of them strode towards the convenience store attached to the Phillips 66 station. “Starvin’ man, I didn’ really eat last night I guess? Just had some beers’n-” But Georgie’s rambling faded as Ryan felt a vibration from his pocket, one hand diving in to retrieve his phone. He couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline that he felt when he read your name. Nothin’s even...we haven’t really even...damn. 

“Hey, Georgie, I gotta,” he held up his phone as it rang again in his palm and Georgie immediately started in on him for being lovesick. No that’s not it, nothin’ like that it’s just- “Just grab me a coffee, wouldya? I’ll watch your stuff.” He rolled his eyes as Georgie agreed, pointing to the sign on the window to remind Ryan that a coffee was $1.19. Shaking his head and wearing a full on grin, he flipped open his phone and answered. “Hey, I was just about to text you...yeah, we just got to Colorado Springs, we’re close to the park, you there yet?” 

“Hey yourself Ryan.” He took his hat off, squeezing the brim as you spoke his name before settling it back down over his hair. “Yeah, I just got off the bus and I’m in the welcome center.” He could hear the soft murmur of a semi-crowded space behind you. Can’t wait to see her. It had only been three days since you’d left Denver early with your friend Missy and he’d stayed behind to play a few days longer with Georgie and Max. But still. “Can’t wait til you guys get here.” 

“Yeah Junebug...I can’t wait either.” He ended the call, letting you know that they’d be there in about fifteen minutes, then dug out his wallet. Georgie wants his $1.19? He’s gonna get it. With interest. Fingers nimbly sifting through the few items tucked between his ID and the new card he’d gotten from Caribou Coffee, he found the $2 bill that had been in there for several years. I coulda given him this in Utah after...but I didn’t… 

It was a bill he’d carried with him that Georgie had asked him for repeatedly since the last time the two men were down in Jacksonville and a stunning young woman named Jade had written her number on it and thrown it into their tip jar with a wink. They decided to split the tips blind, and it had ended up in Ryan’s pile. Though he hadn’t used it that night, he vowed to hold on to it until the next time he was in the city, maybe give her a call then and see what happened. He and Georgie had brought up Jade from Jacksonville more than a few times in drunken conversation, the story about the woman behind the phone number on a wrinkled old bill becoming more intriguing to Ryan than what he could remember about the real Jade. He did enjoy how badly his friend wanted the number though. He’s about to get his wish. I don’t think I’m gonna be callin’ Jade. 

Georgie came out carrying two coffees in one hand, a half wrapped sandwich in the other. “Got your money right here George,” Ryan told him, trading the $2 bill for one of the coffees in his hand.   

Ryan took a sip of his drink, whiskered lips smiling as he watched Georgie’s eyes double in size. He finished chewing the large bite of his sandwich, swallowing quickly. “Jade from Jacksonville?” Ryan nodded as the other man grinned. “You ain’t been back to Jacksonville though, Ryan. Thought you were holdin’ out ‘til you-“

Ryan laughed and took another sip of his coffee as Georgie folded the legendary Jade’s number and stuck it in his back pocket. That’s what I thought, too but… “I dunno Georgie,” he shrugged. “Things change.”

.

.

.

Thanks for reading!! If you would like on or off of this train (pun entirely intended) please feel free to let me know! And if I left you on or off and you’ve asked me to change that...please ask again because I am highly disorganized on this blog. 

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @malionnes @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @songtoyou @with1love1anu @dearmarii @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @luminex3​ @obscurilicious​ @pheedraws​ @beautifuldesastre​

[something-tofightfor]

This needs a title, but...

Ryan Brenner’s being a tiger again. 

As Ryan’s tongue made it past your lips and into your mouth, he slid his hand further up, fingers pushing beneath the fabric of your bathing suit top. Get to the bedroom. “Ryan, c’mon.” You pulled away from him, taking a deep, shuddering breath, and when you opened your eyes, you glanced down, seeing his hands still on your skin. He repeated your name, nose resting just behind your ear, and though it was warm in the house, you felt a chill, your body inching back and against his. 

“Lead the way.” Frozen on the spot for only seconds, you swallowed and then started walking again, Ryan’s hand leaving your chest and dropping to grip your hand, the other pressing flat against your back and urging you forward and up the stairs. “Which room?” He stopped you again at the top of the staircase, giving you a chance to choose. “Wood or metal frame?” 

[something-tofightfor]

Ryan Brenner x Reader: Masterlist

Neon Lights

Neon Lights Masterlist

Rating: M (language)

Summary: A bachelorette party takes you to Las Vegas where you encounter a friendly street musician named Ryan. Drawn to him, you slowly begin to form a friendship, but with an end date set in stone for the trip, what could it possibly mean?

Status: Complete. Originally posted in March 2019

Word Count: 60,000

***

Just a Place

**Sequel to “Neon Lights”**

Rating: M (Language)

Summary: Ryan’s made a decision about where his life will take him next - and so have you. Do the plans you make have any chance of working out? Can you find places in your lives for each other? Where will this new chapter of your life take you?

Status: Ongoing. Originally posted beginning May 1, 2019

Updated April 25, 2020: 11/?

Part 1 - (s)He’s a Tiger *-  Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

*(s)He’s a Tiger Complete; 2/2. - WC: 13, 325 -Originally posted beginning September 2019. Rating: NSFW

Part 1 - Part 2

Drabbles/Prompt Requests

Oh, Virginia Complete; 1/1. - WC: 1,350 - Originally posted 6/17/2019. Rating: PG. (Takes place after Part 5 of Just a Place)

The Big Easy Complete; 1/1. - WC: 1,658 - Originally posted 7/3/19. Rating: M (language, some sexual innuendo)  (Takes place DURING Part 8 of Just a Place)

Phoenix Complete; 1/1. - WC: 2,100 - Originally posted 7/9/19. Rating: PG-13. (Takes place BEFORE Neon Lights)

It’s just a cut, really (Takes place after Part 7 of Just a Place) - WC: 1,134

So what, you did it? (Takes place immediately before Part 8 of Just a Place) - WC: 3,291

Headcanons/Random Information

Ryan Brenner Headcanon List

Movies Ryan likes to watch

Ryan and fighting

Fun facts about Ryan

Ryan and food

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Ryan Brenner + 🤞🏻

Ryan and hope. (i took the crossed fingers as hope.) From the next part of Passing Through: 

The hinges creaked and broke you from your thoughts, Ryan following the gust of chilled air that had rushed in when he opened the door. He closed it quickly to keep out the cold, then bent down to untie his laces. “It’s freezin’ out there.” He sniffed, rubbing the back of one red hand under his nose before standing back up to pull the boots from his feet. “Still snowin’, too.” 

You nodded. There’s no way I-70’s open up there. You knew he had gone outside to call his friends, but you knew what their answer would be before he made the call. They won’t open until at least tomorrow. “Yeah, I think it’s supposed to taper off sometime this afternoon.” You straightened up and pressed the brew button on the coffee pot, the small but reliable machine hissing and bubbling back to life. 

 He took his hat off and ran a palm over his hair. “I talked to Virginia. They’re still stuck up there, got lucky, found a hotel room in Estes Park.” That is lucky in the middle of ski season. He shrugged. “I was hopin’ they’d make it down today but…” He shook his head, clearing the disappointment from his eyes. “I’ll see ‘em soon.”

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Home for Christmas

A/N: Oops. This was supposed to post yesterday. (and it’s barely posting today.) Guess we’re a day behind? Guess this means extended Christmas? Guess in the final days of 2019 I still can’t stick to a schedule. Oh well. Some things never change, while others...do. Here’s the one and only Ryan request for Day 8 of the 12 Days of Christmas Fics. I asked @something-tofightfor​ and @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ for input on whether this should be past Ryan or future Ryan, and this was the response I got- @something-tofightfor​ : future. @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ : past ‘cause I like to be difficult. So I cheated and did both. Anywho, this is related to Passing Through.  

Word Count: 2,183

Prompt from: @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​

“Did you eat all those cookies?” 

“Is that mistletoe? You know it’s poisonous, right?” 

When you woke up on Christmas morning, the red and and black tartan blanket had been pulled up to your chin, the multi-colored quilt tucked around your toes. It was chilly in the attic-turned-guest room. Taylor’s husband Dean had been meaning to bolster the insulation and seal the drafty windows, but as they seemed to every year, the holidays simply came up too soon for him to get the work done in time. You and Ryan both understood of course, assuring Taylor that you���d both spent much colder nights, and complimenting Dean on the amount of work he had been able to do on the house in the short time that they’d owned it. They’d made the move from Georgia up to a small suburb outside of Pittsburgh only two months prior, and somehow they’d made it suitable to host most of the Brenners for Christmas (Patrick was spending the holiday with his new girlfriend Natalie and her family down in Texas, and Tommy had gotten work out on a wind farm in Kansas, the holiday overtime too good to turn down.)  

Extra blankets and a space heater had been brought up to get you through your stay, but even without them you would have been fine. You were never cold when Ryan’s arms were around you, your back against his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. But when you opened your eyes and rolled over, he wasn’t there. Hmm. You peeled back the double layer of blankets and dropped your legs over the side of the bed, toes wiggling into your waiting moccasins. The rushing sound of water moving through the pipes met your ears as soon you were on your feet, and you guessed that he’d gone down a floor to use the bathroom. You folded the blankets and reached for the forest green thermal shirt that Ryan had worn the day before, pulling it over your head and pushing your arms through the too-long sleeves. With a yawn, you combed your fingernails through your hair, twisting it up into a knot, before leaving the attic to quietly head downstairs.    

You padded down the creaky steps, the soft leather soles of your slippers tapping on the hardwood. Reaching the first floor, you turned into the family room. The fire was crackling with more life than it would be had it been left alone since last night, so you knew someone had come down to stoke it. You’d wanted to be up first, get coffee going and start breakfast as a way to thank your hosts. You strained your ears listening for any signs of life, hearing only the snapping and popping of the flames, the muffled sounds of snores, and the shuttering pipes upstairs.  It’s still quiet down here… maybe whoever it was went back to bed. 

Passing the tree, laden with homemade ornaments spanning decades, your heart warmed more than it had from the fire. Mason jar lids and popsicles sticks, pipe cleaners and painted macaroni adorned the branches, illuminated by bright bulbs in every color. Aunt Holly had brought the box of Christmas memories up from Georgia with her as a surprise for the bunch of them. The night before, once everyone had settled in, you all gathered around the tree to add to the few decorations that Taylor and Dean had already hung. You sat on the floor by the fireplace leaning against Ryan’s chest as the box was unpacked, listening intently to the stories behind each and every one of the decorations, imagining smaller versions of the Brenners painstakingly glueing and glittering pieces of construction paper around Holly’s kitchen table. Your fingers brushed over a clothespin that had been painted brown with messy brushstrokes, pipe cleaners bent and twisted to look like antlers, and a red pom pom stuck on as a nose.

 “That’s one’a mine”, he told you as you watched Taylor’s 5 year old daughter agonize over the perfect spot on the tree. “Made it for Aunt Holly for Christmas the year she took me in.” He spoke in your ear, right arm draped over your shoulder, rough fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns on your left bicep. “S’nice to see this stuff again.” 

You turned your head, leaning it back against his shoulder to look up at him. The flickering firelight danced in his eyes as they met yours. You’d been together for two years, but the feeling that you got when that happened hadn’t changed except to grow stronger. You smiled, reaching across your body for his hand and linking it with your own. “I bet it is,” you said. “I’m glad I get to see all of this, too.” You dragged your nose over the spot where his neck sloped into his shoulder before pressing your lips to the exposed skin over the collar of his shirt. You felt him swallow and heard a happy little hum come from deep in his soul. 

Ryan tightened the arm he had around you, eliminating any remaining space between your bodies. His lips found a spot near the crest of your cheek, scratchy beard tickling you as he spoke. “You’re the only one I wanna share it with, Junebug.” You closed your eyes, a fullness in your chest that no one but Ryan could put there. He smiled as he kissed your cheek. “The only one I ever wanna share it with.” 

“Ryan,” his name twirled off your tongue, dancing, light as a feather, to the skipped beat of your heart. You looked around the room, laughter and the smell of nutmeg filling the air as Zach and Jimmy regaled Dean with the infamous sunburn story. Holly was helping Cheyenne hang a wreath made of mis-matched buttons near the top of the tree while Jimmy chased a much-too-hyper Evan around the room. This is home, you thought, even though it wasn’t for either of you. 

“Evan Jacob Bingham!” Taylor’s voice cut through the merriment, all 5 foot three of her small frame suddenly stern as she stuck both hands on her hips. 

“Uh oh,” Ryan said in a low voice, causing you to snicker.

All eyes turned to Evan, his sandy hair hanging from his head as Fitz held him upside down by the ankles. Little green eyes widening to saucers, his face flushed scarlet as he took in his mother’s expression. 

“Did you eat all of those cookies?!” She demanded, gesturing to the plate on the counter that now suspiciously only held crumbs. 

Fitz righted the child, setting him back on the ground and ruffling his hair. He leaned over to hover over Evan’s shoulder. “Better fess up, kid. ‘Member, Santa’s watchin’. Lyin’ won’t do you any favors.”  

You laughed to yourself, feeling warm all over again as your fingers left the little clothespin Rudolph. Stepping into the kitchen, you busied yourself with the coffee can, measuring scoops of the nutty grounds and dumping them into one of the leftover filters that you’d used to make paper snowflakes with Taylor’s kids the night before. More ornaments for next year’s tree. You secured the lid on the can, giving it a smack to make sure it was sealed tight, when a peel of laughter hit your ears. It was muffled slightly, and followed by a deeper, fuller chuckle that you couldn’t mistake if you tried. Ryan. Setting your task aside, you moved the curtains over the sink just in time to see Ryan hoisting Cheyenne and Evan, one under each arm, up to place the hat atop the head of the most perfectly constructed snowman you’d ever seen, a grin broke out on your face and your hand came up to your mouth. There you are, Ryan Brenner. 

You watched the three of them admire their handiwork as the coffee pot bubbled and steamed to life somewhere behind you, before you saw Ryan toss his head in the direction of the house, telling them it was time to go back inside. The kids turned and immediately ran towards the back door, wobbling like penguins in their snow boots. When Ryan turned, his eyes went straight to the window, a wide smile brightening his face. Above his beard his cheeks and nose were bright red from the cold, a puff of vapor forming as he let out a breath. Raising one hand, he waved to you, and you wiggled your fingers over the cuff of his shirt to wave back, biting your bottom lip. 

The door banged open and Cheyenne and Evan burst inside, stomping clumps of white onto the mat and yanking the zippers of their jackets open. “We made a snowman!” Evan said, turning to you as though he knew you’d be there to receive the news. 

“I see!” you said, pointing out the window. “A very nice one, too.” Cheyenne’s arm was stuck in her sleeve, her little eyebrows furrowing in frustration. You stooped down next to her to pull her free. “Did you name him?” 

“Uh huh,” the little girl smiled at you as she sat down to take her boots off. “Frosty, like in the song.” 

“That’s a perfect name,” you said, recalling the afternoon before yesterday, when Ryan and Jimmy had played a bunch of kid friendly Christmas songs to keep the kids out of Taylor’s hair while you helped her and Aunt Holly with some of the baking. 

The door opened again, a rush of cold air blowing in as Ryan stepped inside. “‘Mornin’, bug,” he said, eyes bright and wide awake from the icy temperature. He removed his hat, his long hair askew. Morning, Ryan.  “Merry Christmas.” He wiped his boots off before bending down to undo the laces, tattooed fingers working nimbly once they were free of his gloves. You rose back to your full height as he took a step to close the distance.. 

You felt the cold coming off of him but still only wanted him closer. “Merry Christmas, Ryan.” You raked your fingers through his hair and behind his ear.  “You three were up ealy,” you said, eyes never leaving his. 

He shrugged with a grin. “Frosty i’nt gonna build himself,” he said before turning to his accomplices. “Right guys?” 

“Right!” They answered in unison. 

“Right.” He turned back to you. This man. 

“Right.” You agreed, nodding as your smile turned into a laugh. You draped both arms over his shoulders, twirling the curl at the nape of his neck around your finger as you leaned into him. “Why don’t you go get warmed up,” you suggested, and I’ll get some breakfast started and-”

“Is that mistletoe?” Evan was staring at the two of you, pointing to the bundle of greenery hanging in the doorway above your heads. You hadn’t seen it before, nor had you realized that you’d gotten as close to him as you had, or that he’d placed both of his frozen hands on your hips. It is. “You know it’s poisonous, right?” He asked, matter of factly. 

You and Ryan looked at each other before bursting into a laugh that had you collapsing into the frosty fabric of his coat, his hands rubbing slowly up and down your back as you both looked back up at one another. “That so?” Ryan asked, Evan nodding emphatically. “And who told you that, your mama?” 

“Yeah,” came Taylor’s voice from the kitchen doorway, the lights from the tree glowing on her rounded cheeks. “Sound familiar, Ry?” She quirked an eyebrow as Evan and Cheyenne scrambled passed her, one on either side. She touched both of their sandy-haired heads as they headed upstairs to change into warm clothes. 

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “It might sound a little familiar.” 

“That’s what he told me,” Taylor answered your question before you could ask it. “When we were kids, and I was a young, hopelessly romantic seven year old pining her pigtails off for Bobby Hartshorne, sayin’ that I hoped I got to kiss’m under the mistletoe. And then here comes Ryan,” she gestured with mock annoyance at her closest cousin who grinned mischievously. “Tellin’ me kissin’ is gross and mistletoe is poison.” 

“I did say that,” he admitted with a chuckle. 

“How romantic of you, Ry,” you said, barely keeping the smirk from your face. 

“Well,” Taylor clapped him on the shoulder before smiling at you. “Glad to see that some things change.” She winked and then headed over to help herself to the coffee you’d made. 

Without taking his eyes from yours, he spoke quietly and pulled you closer. “Rules are rules,” he said, nose brushing yours before you felt his lips steal the breath from your lungs. “Poison or not.” His fingers flexed around your hips as your hands found their way over his jawbone and up into his hair. 

The kiss was quick but you felt it all throughout your bones. “Love you, Ryan,” you told him, knocking your nose against his again. “Let’s get some coffee, huh?” 

.

.

.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @obscurilicious @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @ymariejp @breanime @gollyderek @traeumerinwitzhelden @malionnes @elanor-of-imladris

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed! 

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Sweet angel Ryan— personality 7, 10, 14, 16, 20, 23; friends and family 7; past and present 4, 9: love 6

OOF. Sorry it took a year and a day to get to these! Ryan Brenner character asks part two! 

7- What makes him laugh out loud? 

Ryan laughs a lot when he’s with his cousins. They have tons of good memories from growing up together to call upon, and even as they’ve all gotten older the shenanigans haven’t really stopped. They still gang up on one another to tease or joke, they still poke fun at each other for things they say or do. Ryan gets back to Georgia every three years- sometimes more often if there’s a big family event or if he’s nearby anyway, but sometimes he’ll meet up with some of them on the road, too if they’re traveling. He’s met up with Taylor when she was on vacation with her family, for instance, and Zach quite a few times because he travels a lot himself, moving from place to place but always settling back home for a while in between. But Ryan is most comfortable with his family, whether it’s his cousins or his tribe, so all of his expressions are going to be bigger when he’s around them, including laughter.

10- How does he see himself? 

Ryan is comfortable with himself for the most part. He sees himself as an honest, well-intentioned, good-natured person who puts his all into everything he does and who finds enjoyment in the simple things that life has to offer. Occasionally someone gives him a look, turning their nose up or curling their lip at his dirty hands or overgrown hair, his “lived in” jacket or the stains on his jeans. Sometimes he’ll hear comments mumbled under the breath of passersby, the word “bum” or “degenerate” hitting his ear harshly. When this happens, it hurts and sometimes it makes him angry- who are these people to judge him? Why do people feel the need to form opinions on the makeup of a man based on what he wears or how he chooses to live? Why do superficial things matter more to people than the things they’d learn about him if they bothered to? But he’s very well adjusted, and the feelings of inadequacy or anger fade relatively quickly for the most part, because he knows that he’s a good person. He knows that he can sleep at night with no stains on his conscious. He knows that he loves the life he leads, and he knows that he has people who understand him.

14- What is his greatest fear? 

I inadvertently answered this one in another round of asks, but sure, I’ll ramble on it some more.

His greatest fear is dying alone. He’s not scared of much, and he knows that he’s making choices in his life that aren’t always the safest, so it’s not a fear that stops him from doing anything that he wants to do, it’s not something he thinks about all the time, and it’s certainly not something he’s ever acknowledged out loud. But his father, Oz and Cowboy all spent their last moments alone, and while the three of them had lived a little more dangerously than Ryan, he couldn’t help but to draw parallels and recognize that only the smallest of mishaps could lead him down the same road.

  16- When was the last time that he cried? 

(settle in this one’s lengthy.)

  It was a few months before arriving in Denver; October 28th to be exact. He was playing at a small Hometown Festival in a suburb of Cleveland with Georgie and Louie, the three of them occupying stools on a raised wooden stage. It had been a perfect Autumn day. The sun was alone in a cornflower sky, the crisp blue expanse painting the perfect background for the deep burgundy and brilliant gold foliage. Though it was late in the season, it had been warm all day, and Ryan had been able to roll up his jacket and tuck it under the straps of his pack, feeling much lighter as he walked the booth lined street, carefully inspecting each and every stall, watching vendors crafting or cooking, noticing the detail work on displayed items like sun catchers, soaps and silver work, sampling a warm cider or a soft pretzel.

He’d joined up with his friends that morning, after Georgie had called him a week before with news.

“Got us a gig, Ry! A real one with cash an’ all that.” Georgie was always full of excitement even when there was nothing to be excited about, but when there was he downright teemed with it. Some things never change.

“Woah, slow down, Georgie,” Ryan chuckled as he exhaled a puff of the cigarette he held between his thumb and pointer finger, the steel floor of the train car rattling beneath him, somewhere between Des Moines and Cedar Rapids.  “What’dya sayin’ now?”

He’d gone on to explain that he met a musician up in Michigan. He’d been working some odd jobs up there, skirting the shore of the lake before the weather chased him further south, and Cole- the banjo picker he’d met- had tipped him off to a local festival in his home town that he was headed down to play at. Georgie had eagerly looked into it, ravenous as always for opportunities to play and be heard, and once he’d checked the date and location, he’d wasted no time in contacting the event organizer and booked a spot. He’d called Ryan as soon as he’d gotten off the phone with the scheduler, planning to give Louie a ring next.

“A’right,” Ryan took the last drag before stubbing out the butt under his boot. “When do I gotta be there?” Georgie told him the date and Ryan froze, leaning forward, a tight twist in his chest. But that’s… 

When ten seconds went by without a response, Georgie repeated Ryan’s name. “Hey, you still there, Ry?”

Ryan cleared his throat and shook his head. “Yeah’m here, Georgie, just...d’you say October 28th? That’s…”

“Yeah,” Georgie cut him off quietly. “Yeah, I know. Cowboy’s birthday.” He paused and Ryan could feel it through the phone line, the mutual missing of their friend. “But I think…ya know, maybe that’s what he’d want, right? Us all…”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed. “Yeah, I think that’s what he’d want.” I know it is.

It had been the perfect kind of day, and just the kind of day that Cowboy would have loved. Ryan smiled to himself imagining his friend twirling Virginia unexpectedly before plopping a kiss to her cheek and then reaching behind her to flick Georgie’s ear while the group casually toured the blocked off boulevard. Miss you brother.

When the day had turned to dusk, music started to float through the now chilly air. The lights that had been strung up over the stage blinked to life, their soft orange glow complementing the corn husks and pumpkins that stood at either end of the wood plank platform. Bands and soloists, singers and musicians all took their turns delighting the crowd of locals, Ryan, Georgie and Louie following a pair of sisters who fiddled faster than Ryan had ever seen. They’d played a few favorites, a couple new tunes that Ryan had been toying with, his voice warming the hearts and souls of the red-cheeked faces gathered in front of the stage. Feels right to be doin’ this tonight. He poured his memories and feelings into his performance, paying tribute to his friend in the only way he knew how.

Their set ended, the three of them rising from their stools to cheers and applause, smiles broad and eyes brimming with happiness. As they turned to leave the stage to make room for the next act, a frantic young girl in an event staff sweatshirt came jogging towards them, waving her clipboard.

“Hey hang on a sec, you guys wanna play another set?” She asked the question in a way that told Ryan that she didn’t want to beg but that it wasn’t off the table. Her eye brows wrinkled up and her lips tipped down. “The next guy…apparently he had one… or six too many ciders and, well,” she dramatically winced, drawing a warm chuckle from Ryan and snickers from Georgie and Louie. “He was supposed to close out the show, so…”

“You got yourself a deal, lil lady,” Georgie Extended his hand passed Ryan and the girl eagerly shook it.

“Great, thank you so much. I’ll see that you get paid for both sets of course, and-“

“Hold on, Georgie,” Ryan turned, bemused smirk on his lips. “We just played most’a the songs we know, what’re we gonna…”

“You could take requests, maybe?” The young volunteer suggested hopefully.

“There you go, Ry, we could take requests, maybe.” Georgie grinned.

Ryan blew out a laugh through his nose and shook his head. “A’right, let’s take some requests, maybe.” He gestured towards the stage and the girl visibly let go of at least half the stress she was under, thanking them profusely. The crowd cheered as they settled back in their stools, quieting down as Ryan leaned forward to speak into the mic. “Thank y’all so much,” he said, cheeks red with more than just the chill. Singing was one thing, but talking to a crowd wasn’t something Ryan had much practice with. “We’re gonna stick around if that’s alright with you.” The cheers he was met with made his cheeks nearly swallow his eyes. “So if there’s somethin’ you wanna hear, come on over’n let us know.”

They started off with another old song that they’d played together hundreds of times before the requests started coming in. Most were songs they knew, a few they’d had to turn down because they didn’t fit their style, but all the songs they’d played had kept the crowd happy. When they got down to their last one, though, Ryan knew it would be a struggle to get through, but that he’d give it all he had. He plucked at the strings of his guitar, the first few notes slow and sweet and soothing, a knot already sticking in his throat as he started in with the lyrics.  

There are places I'll rememberAll my life, though some have changedSome forever, not for betterSome have gone, and some remain

Eyes shut the entire time, Ryan let his emotions take the reins, singing with his heart, from deep within it’s center, about the friend he’d been fortunate enough to find at a crossroads in his life; the friend who left too soon but who’d left an indelible mark on his life. As the song slowed and finished, he felt the breeze hit his face and realized that his eyes were damp. Huh. He hadn’t realized that tears had started to gather in the corners of his eyes, too focused on the song and the feeling it was filled with to even be in his skin while he sang it. He quickly swiped the wetness from his eyes with his thumb before smiling as Georgie took the lead in thanking the crowd for a second time.

As soon as everything was settled and the earnings had been split, Ryan wandered off while Georgie and Louie found a bar around the corner. “I’ll catch you guys’n a minute,” he told them. “Gotta just make a call real quick.” Leaning against a stack of hay bales near the entrance of the festival, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed one of the few numbers he had memorized. It only rang once before the voice on the other end came through.

“Ryan?”

“Hey, Ginny, yeah, it’s me. Just wanted to tell ya that Georgie’n Louie’n me just got done playin’, an…” he paused and heard her exhale, the puff of air hitting the speaker in a way that told Ryan she’d spent most of the day going back and forth between crying and smiling. “An it was… it was really good, Gin. I just… I wanted you to know.” I wanted you to know we played for him, Gin.

 “That’s great, Ryan… that’s…”

 “I miss him, Ginny. But it felt… right, ya know.”

 “I know. It is right. He’d love that.” Virginia had a way of wrapping you up in her voice, cozy like a blanket, even before she became a mother. Ryan knew that the day was a struggle for her, too, in vastly different ways that were just as strong. But they found comfort in one another, in the family that they’d formed. “I can’t wait to see you, Ry. It’s gonna be real good to see you.”

 “Yeah,” he sniffed and straightened back up, startin towards the bar where his friends were. “See you soon, V’ginia.”

  20- What is his sinful little habit? 

Sinful? This angel? Ryan has lots of habits. He has lots of quirks and things that make him unique. But none of them are sinful, especially now. He’s a man of strong morals and good values, and he tries his best to take care of himself- sure, he smokes, and sure, from time to time he drinks, but since he straightened out (his teen years were a little sketchy) he hasn’t formed any habits that could be called “sinful”.

  23- What are his pet peeves? 

  Ryan CANNOT stand when someone thinks they’re better than someone else based on job title, money or status. That’s why he had to intervene in Caribou when that bozo with the big bucks was berating you for spilling a little coffee on his jacket. He doesn’t go looking for confrontation (anymore) but he can’t hold his tongue if he hears someone being unfairly discriminated against because they have stains on their jeans or scuffs on their boots, because they make their living selling their art instead of selling stocks, because they chose a different path than the social norm.

 Friends and Family 

7- Who are his surprising allies? 

It’s not really surprising, but he and Taylor have always had a close bond. They’re close in age, but that’s not why. When Ryan came to live with his cousins and aunts and uncles – they all live in the same town, a few of them in the same neighborhood- he was a little sad and homesick at first. Even though he’d been spending summers with his extended family since he’d been born, the first few weeks after it became permanent, Ryan was quiet, withdrawn and preferred to be by himself rather than playing with his cousins. He felt like an outsider even though this was his family: they all got to stay with their parents while he had to leave his. His (half) brother got to stay, but he didn’t. It wasn’t fair, and it made him feel alone.  

One afternoon while the boys were all out catching frogs or setting off firecrackers or causing some manner of mischief, Ryan was sitting under the tree in his grandparent’s front yard, hiding from the sun and from any of the adults who were trying to get him to “talk about it”, when Taylor wordlessly came over and sat down next to him. At first, Ryan thought about telling her to leave him alone, but when he turned in her direction, he noticed she was crying. Her nose and eyes were red, and her cheeks were damp despite the fact that she was fervently wiping at them with the back of her hand in an effort to banish her tears. She sniffed, the action scrunching up her face, before letting out a melancholy little sigh, too sad for a pig-tailed little girl to make. “It ain’t fair,” she mumbled to Ryan.

Ryan noticed her right knee, scraped and bloodied and smeared with dirt, but he knew that wasn’t why she was crying. Taylor was tough, even if she was little, even if she was a girl. “What ain’t?” he asked her with a sniff of his own, the unruly mop of light brown hair on his head swinging into his eyes as he turned to face his cousin.

Taylor huffed, picking her arms up and letting them fall to her lap. “Bein’ left out,” she said, picking at the frayed white fringes trailing from her cut off denim shorts. “Just ‘cause I’m a girl, Tommy and Fitz and all them said I can’t come climbin’ trees with them.” She looked up at Ryan, a determined set to her eyes. “But I can, Ryan. I’ma good climber an’ I can do it they just don’ want me to and it ain’t fair.”

Ryan couldn’t help himself but laugh, which only made her frown deepen, made her whine ‘hey’. “I know you can climb, Taylor. I know you’rea good climber. They’re jus’ bein’ stupid.”

Her frown relaxed almost instantly, cheeks bouncing back into a near smile as a little giggle replaced the whining. “Yeah,” she giggled again, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes and leaving a smudge of dirt on her face as she did, “they are stupid, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly, Ryan didn’t want to sit and mope anymore. “C’mon,” he said, standing up and motioning for Taylor to do the same. “Let’s go show’m how stupid. Let’s go climb higher’n they can. I bet that’s what they’re really scared of anyway, that you’re gonna make’m look bad.”

Ryan became close with all of his cousins after that, but he and Taylor always remained outsider allies. The only one who grew up without parents, and the only girl in a pack of wild boys.

past and present 

4- What is the most offensive thing he has ever said? 

I hope you don’t take this as a cop out, but Ryan doesn’t really say offensive things. Even when he was young and got himself into trouble, it was always stuff like tagging overpasses or distracting the checkout girl while a buddy stole a bottle of whiskey or getting into a fight in public (one that he wouldn’t have started but also wouldn’t have walked away from) and never from saying anything hurtful. Even when Chloe broke his heart with her decision- he could have been mean. He could have been spiteful. But he wasn’t. He was compassionate and even though he was hurting, he only tried to be supportive and understanding of her. When he was younger he had some rough edges, but Ryan’s a good soul soup to nuts.

9- What advice would he give to his younger self? 

That life is short and its better spent on the good stuff. This is something that’s been constant in his life- losing his father at a young age, having things up-ended on him when he had to move, leaving to go out on his own at 16, losing friends too young… he eventually learned this, the hard way, but the first few years on the road he got up to no good, wasted time getting into fights and finding trouble, trying to express all the pent up anger or negative energy that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding onto. But once he met Cowboy and Georgie and started taking his music seriously, he learned that its better to laugh than fight. It’s better to make people smile than frown. It’s better to leave the world a brighter place than you’d found it. It’s better to make the most of your time instead of wishing things were different. That’s the advice he’d give to anyone in their teens, when you think you’re invincible and that everyone’s entitled to reaching a ripe old age.

love 

6- Has he ever been in love? 

Yes. I talked about this one in another answer, but Ryan was in love with a girl named Chloe, a free spirit like himself. She was a sculpture artist who lived most of the year in Montana, and the rest of the time wherever the wind blew. They were head over heels for each other and both understood the other’s need for travel and adventure, for the unknown and the call of the road. They were together for a little over two years, until she made a choice that derailed their relationship, and she couldn’t accept Ryan’s forgiveness. Now they’ve both moved on, and still keep in touch from time to time. She’s married now, and Ryan couldn’t be happier for her. 

THANK YOU so much for these asks! 

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Series:

Passing Through

Brenner & the Bug 

Unrelated one-shots:

You Again

Sweet Refrain 

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Passing Through - Masterlist

Summary: A chance encounter with a stranger turns into a day spent with a kindred spirit. But is that all it ends up meaning in the grand scheme of things, or is there something more serendipitous at work? 

Part One: Looks Like Snow Part Two: Western Squall  Part Three: Whiteout Part Four: Snowed In Part Five: Thaw Part Six: Chain Laws 

Related one-shots:

SPF Layers Pressing Flowers Sun-kissed Lock the Door Let the Stars Watch  Home for Christmas Peaks & Valleys  Luckenbach, Texas The Legend of Jade from Jacksonville  Canary Mary & the Miners  Clarity Come on Home  Undefined Duet  Melt The Next One Is Free 

Running list of U.S State Postcards from Ryan: 7/50   Alaska, Arkansas, Colorado, Nebraska, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Texas  

Character Asks  Character Asks 2 Turn ‘Em Out (what’s in Ryan’s pockets?) 

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Passing Through

Part Four: Snowed In 

A/N: I really missed Ryan. It’s good to be back to this story. This picks up immediately where we left off in part three- you and Ryan are about to be snowed in for...a while...better get comfortable. 

Word Count: 4,472

“You could let me do that,” he offered, stooping next to you and sitting on the red brick ledge of the hearth. He pulled his snowy boots off and set them next to yours, beside the stack of wood he’d brought in from the porch.

You had been trying to get the fire going, but so far had only been successful in creating a large pile of ashes under the grate from all the newspaper you’d lit as kindling. Kevin had always taken care of getting the fire started, and you realized that you really had no idea what you were doing; that you’d never lit a fire in your own damn fireplace, and that you only wanted to now because Ryan was there and he’d need the extra warmth in your drafty living room. When you were home alone, you never bothered with the flue or the firebox, never touched the woodpile that had become a permanent fixture- and likely home to countless spiders- on your patio. You simply layered up your socks and spent most of your time in your bedroom either crashing into the mattress after a long day, or occasionally wrapped in an afghan and seated at your keyboard well into the midnight hours.

Suddenly that thought bothered you- that you couldn’t do something for yourself. You watched as the bright orange flame hungrily burned through yet another wad of paper, a disappointed scowl on your face. With a sigh and a shrug you turned to Ryan. “I guess that’s for the best if we ever want an actual fire.” You handed him the box of long-handled wooden matches, sitting back on your heels in defeat.

Ryan set the matches aside, reaching for the dwindling stack of newspaper to your left, leaning over you with a smile. “Lemme show you a trick I learned for startin’ fires,” he winked and you half expected the spark in his eye to jump into the hearth and ignite. “Makes it real easy, watch.”

Eyes glued to his fingers, you watched him tear the newspaper into thin strips, folding and ripping it until his hands were full of black and white fringes. Setting the pile of paper shreds aside, he pulled a small wood handled pocket knife from his jeans and flicked it open, the silver blade catching the light from your empty dining room. He tested the blade against his thumb, tapping the sharp edge against his cracked and calloused skin. Deeming it up to snuff, he picked through the wood pile until he found a small piece of pine, dry bits of bark falling between his fingers and onto the bricks. Concentrating on the soft wood, Ryan took the knife and used it to carve peels from the branch, repeating the motion until he had a cluster of curled ribbons next to the newspaper strips. “Learned this from a…” he paused, flicking the knife closed again, eyes narrowing slightly as his lips twitched. He cleared his throat and looked over at you. Is that… you thought you saw a twinge of sadness in his warm brown eyes, but before you could be sure he blinked and it was gone.  “From a good friend’a mine, out on the rails.”

Out on the rails. You’d guessed that Ryan was a freight hopper and he’d just confirmed it. You’d known a few back in your busking days, when you and Kevin hitched rides and splurged on bus fare when you were in between cities. You’d even hopped a train once yourself, and even though it was a solid five years ago, you could still feel the rush that widened your eyes and swept through your blood when you gripped the steel rungs of the ladder to climb up into the car that had just started to rumble over the tracks. You could remember pushing off through your toes, your boots leaving the rocky ground to reach for Kevin’s hand as the wheels that could crush you picked up speed just inches below you. It was the most dangerous thing you’d ever done, but it was also the most free you’d ever felt, the wind whipping at your face and your fingers as you went wherever the rails took you, the landscape stretching out for miles in all directions.

You looked over at Ryan, picturing him choosing a car in the train yard before he and his long limbs ambled up inside of it, could easily see him leaning against the corrugated steel walls with a lit cigarette between his lips and an open notebook on his thigh, jotting down lyrics and thoughts. The image made you smile. Most people would see someone like Ryan and not be able to look past the illegality of his actions, the danger he put himself in, the instability of his life. But you knew better having tasted that life for yourself. He’s a free bird, a hawk spreading his wings to ride a breeze. He was wrapping the shredded newsprint around the pine curls, fingers nimbly assembling a fire starter as he’d clearly done thousands of times before.

“So you just,” he held up the bundle for you to see the way he’d interwoven the paper with the ribbons of wood. “And if stuff’s wet, you could tie some twine around it, light that like a wick. But everythin’ here looks dry enough to me so,” he reached into the fireplace to nestle the fire starter under the grate, a few pieces of crumpled paper and some bark chips surrounding it. “Let’s give this a shot,” he wiped his hands on his pants and sat back, grabbing for the box of matches and pulling one out. You watched the head strike the phosphorus strip, igniting with an audible sizzle and spark. Carefully lighting both ends of the little pine and paper package, Ryan dropped the spent match in with the pile that you’d used before leaning further in to blow gently at the small flame that danced beneath the grate, feeding it oxygen and helping it grow. Lips pursed, he continued to supply the fire with air until he saw a splinter of wood from one of the larger logs catch. Satisfied that his work was done, he leaned back and looked over at you. “There we go,” his smile flashed in his eyes.

“Thanks, Ryan, that’s a really good trick.” You grinned back at him, all the feelings of inadequacy for being unable to start your own damn fire banished by the warmth from his smile and the growing flames. "And now I finally know how to use my fireplace." You laughed and shook your head.

He chuckled. “S’my pleasure, least I can do. It is a good trick, works every time.” He scooted back and off of the red bricked hearth and rose to his feet. “I’m just gonna…” he pointed in the direction of the bathroom and you nodded.

“Yeah, of course, I’m gonna,” you stood as well and gathered the two empty glasses that were still sitting by the window. “You want another?” you asked, indicating the glassware.

He smiled with just the corner of his mouth. “Sure, thanks.” He retreated down the hall and once you heard the click of the bathroom door, you let out a breath, looking around the room. When you left to go downtown that morning, the sun was throwing harsh white light against your plain white walls and empty white carpet. Now the amber glow of the fireplace illuminated Ryan’s bag and guitar case, his boots and coat. What a difference a day makes…feels more like home than it has in…stop it. You pushed those thoughts from your mind, reminding yourself that this was only temporary. He’ll be back on the rails, soon.

But you knew you’d never be able to forget the kindred soul you’d been fortunate enough to find. Wouldn’t want to even if I could. You refilled both yours and Ryan’s glasses from the growler in your fridge and set them down on the counter before opening the door to the small laundry room off the kitchen that doubled as storage, finding the air mattress and extra pillows that you’d bought for all the people you thought might visit you out in Colorado when you first moved out here. It was still in its original packaging. Least I know it doesn’t have any leaks. Ryan seemed as good a guest as any to break in the mattress. Pulling it down off of the shelf above the dryer, you took it from the box and brought it out into the living room just as Ryan came back out from the hallway.

“Hey grab those glasses, would you?” You called over your shoulder to him as you unfolded the navy blue full sized mattress, plugging it in to let it fill.

Ryan brought both glasses back over to the living room, moving to the wall so that he was out of your way. “You don’t have to do all’a that,” he said, motioning to the mattress.

“Yeah I do. Let that fill up, I’m gonna grab some blankets. Sorry it’s drafty in here,” you shrugged towards the large window that took up most of the front wall. “Old windows.”

He shook his head as you walked passed him, heading back to the storage shelves to grab the red and green plaid blanket. “S’more than I need.”

“Well, it’s what I have, and you’re welcome to it.” You came back out with the blanket and two pillows, tossing them towards where Ryan was sitting before checking the air in the mattress and turning off the filling pump. You took a seat next to him, wrapping your fingers around the glass he offered you. “Look, Ryan…” you turned to face him, struck again by his soft, warm leather eyes and the quiet calm that pooled there. “I…earlier, when I said that about needing a place to sleep and renewing my lease and all that-“

“Hey, I told you,” he tilted his head. “Just forget about it, I know you didn’ mean anything-“

“No. I didn’t mean anything by it, but it still bothers me that I said it and I want to tell you why, okay?”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he weighed your words. “Okay…”

You took a long pull from your glass and set your beer down before scooting over to the fire to give it a poke, arranging the now steadily burning logs into a better configuration. Sitting back against the wall next to him, you picked your glass back up and tapped your fingers against the rim before speaking. “It bothered me, Ryan, because that’s not who I am. Saying things like that? That’s not me. Never was. I used to travel, like you. No real permanent address. Guy I was dating, Kevin, he and I would pick a bus or hitch hike as far as we could, find a place that would rent to us for a month or two at a time. Even hopped a train, once.” You looked up to see his eyebrows rise at that last detail. “My point is, I get it, what you’re doing, what you’re choosing. I miss it… and…” you sighed.

“What made you stop then?” He asked.

It’s a simple question. Should have a simple answer, but… Another sigh. “Kevin wanted to stick somewhere and give it a shot, so… I agreed. And then…” you trailed off.

“Then he decided to go again,” Ryan finished your sentence for you, no pity in his tone, just understanding.

“Yeah. And I got stuck… after my mom… I lost touch with my brother and my dad and…and I just got stuck.” It was the first time you’d said it out loud, but it was true.

“Well, the road ain’t goin’ anywhere, Junebug. Rails ain’t either. You unstick yourself, you can get back out there.” He smiled. “Lot’sa people out there to share your music with.”

“Yeah…yeah…when I unstick myself…” you let out a breath and bit your bottom lip. “Thanks, Ryan.”

“Yeah.” He took a drink, grinning around the rim of his glass, a thin layer of foam clinging to the hair above his lip before his tongue darted out to remove it. “Just got one question for you.”

“Go ahead and shoot,” you said, opening your arms to indicate that there was nothing off the table. You’d already been more open and candid with him than anyone you dealt with on a daily basis.

“Did you have a road name when you were out there hoppin’ freight an’ hitchin’ rides?”

You gave him a quizzical look, laughing with a tilt to your head and a wrinkle in your brow.

“Lotta hoppers take road names,” he explained, lifting one shoulder and tilting his ear towards it. “‘Specially if they’ve been in some kinda trouble or if they’re runnin’ from somethin’. Oz was from Seattle… never knew his real name, and his girl’s name was Robin.” Ryan tapped his fingertips together, bending his knuckles as he spoke, eyes focused on the thin black lines and dark dots that ran up and down his digits as the orange light from the flickering flames illuminated his cheeks. “‘Cause she sang like one, not cause that was her,” he shook his head. “Never knew her name either. Oz wasn’t musical but Robin sure was.” His lips turned up, pulling his beard with them. “Played together a few times, Robin’n Georgie, Cowboy’n me, with another one’a their crew, Louie. Oz, Nikki an’ Kissie-“ he turned to you when he heard the subtle snicker at the name. “Kissie was a hit with the college girls.”

“Naturally,” you wrinkled your brow and nodded, drawing a laugh from Ryan, who shrugged again.

“Worked out for him, worked out for them- he wasn’t lookin’ for anythin’ and they were just lookin’ for somethin’ new. Anyway, the rest of ‘em would come and watch us play, look after our stuff for us, grab us some grub. We’d pool our earnin’s an when we could swing it we’d get a motel room. Stayed together for about three weeks before splittin’ up again. Longest I ever stayed with that many people, it was nice…”

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun together,” you said, taking a sip of your drink, the foam clinging to the rim of your glass. “Like you all made a real impact on one another.”

“Hmm, yeah,” he smiled wistfully, spreading his fingers out and holding up his hand. “Got these when I was out there with them.”

You looked at the tattoos on his fingers that had caught your eye nearly from the moment that you met him. “Yeah?” you asked and he nodded eagerly. You were always intrigued to hear the stories related to the ink that people chose, but everything about Ryan, tattoos included, piqued your interest more than most. “What’s the story there?” Setting your glass down, you pulled your knees to your chest under the blanket, hugging them close to your body for warmth.

“Well, these were my first,” he said, turning his upper body towards you slightly while flexing his fingers. You traced the lines with your eyes, stopping yourself from reaching out to trace them with your fingertips, noting the small black dots and the connected horizontal and vertical lines. “Got ‘em when I was 17, first year on the road. That was my first time out on the West Coast…think that’s why we ended up stayin’ so long, just… just mesmerized by the Pacific an everythin’ out there. The trees’n the sky…it’s different…”

You knew what he meant. It was the same sky no matter where on Earth you were standing, but the view was never the same. The angle, the clouds, the colors. You’d never been further west than where you were currently sitting, but getting out that way had always been a dream. “Where were you all? California?”

He shook his head, a few pieces of hair falling over his ear before he dragged the unruly strands back. “Nah, Coos Bay, Oregon. Little fishin’ town on the coast. Its-” you felt your eyes light up when you heard the town name. “You know Coos Bay?” he asked, just as surprised as you were to hear him say the name.

“Yeah,” you nodded enthusiastically, your own locks tumbling into your face before you mirrored his action and pushed them out of your way. “Never been there, but it’s on my bucket list.” Ryan fixed you with a quizzical look, clearly interested as to why a small town- though one of the largest on Oregon’s coast- that most people haven’t heard of would be somewhere that you wanted to see. “I told you I was a runner?” He nodded, eyebrows wrinkled, still not sure where this was going or where your interest in Coos Bay came from. “Well, Pre- Steve Prefontaine- is my running idol and that’s where he’s from. Always wanted to visit. There’s a bunch of memorials there to him and… I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Always wanted to go and see where he grew up…thank him for the impact he made on my life.”

“Yeah…you know now that you…” he scrunched one side of his face up in concentration. “I think I do remember seein’ a mural or somethin’ downtown with that name…sounds…s’a name you don’t really forget, ain’t it? Prefontaine? S’a mouthful.”

You laughed. “Yeah, sure is. So anyway, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you.” You motioned to him to continue with his story.

“Nah, s’alright…but yeah, so we were out in Oregon, buncha young, dumb kids from all over the place… but it felt right bein’ together like a group. Felt like a tribe, ya know? Buncha wanderers. So Nikki, girl from…I think Santa Fe? She had a tattoo gun, wanted to get some practice in one night, so we all decided to let her.” He laughed. “Hindsight says we probably shouldn’ta… not guaranteed things are clean and sterile out on the road like that…we were in a motel that night so I guess it coulda been dirtier, but…like I said, young’n dumb. But we all wanted to get somethin’ similar…somethin’ that would connect us all even when we scattered all over again. Nice as those three weeks were…we all knew we couldn’t stick in one spot forever, ya know?”

Yeah. I know… You did know. You’d felt stuck for the last three and a half years and the urge to go was always there…but so was that voice in the back of your head, the one laced with doubt and reminiscent of Kevin’s condescending tone. You nodded.

“So we all got these lines’n dots… like places on a map’n roads an’ rails between ‘em. Got ‘em in all different places. Georgie got his on his shoulder,” he reached across his chest to tap his left shoulder. “Right where his fiddle sits. Cowboy got his on his hands… wanted mine on my fingers ‘cause that’s what I use to make music… shoulda thought about how I’d have to take a few days offa playin’ to let ‘em heal, but…don’t regret it. Robin’s are behind her ear and Oz went bold about it, got ‘em on his face, right around the corner of his eye.” The hand that he used to indicate the location of Georgie’s ink moved up to his face, pointing out the spot Oz chose.

I could listen to his stories all night. The way Ryan spoke about things that mattered to him was enchanting, like listening to his music. He put his whole soul into it; you could see it in the shine of his eyes and hear it in the tone of his voice. When he touched each spot, his fingers, his shoulder, the side of his face, it was like he could feel the connection to the people he was telling you about. It was like you could feel it too. “So do you still keep in touch with all of them? Do you get to see them when you’re traveling?” You couldn’t help but ask questions that would keep the story going.

Ryan nodded, looking down with a sniff. “Yeah,” the word came out more quietly than he’d been speaking just a moment ago, and your heart faltered at the slight change. Shit. I shouldn’t have... “Yeah, I still see some of ‘em…” Picking his head back up, eyes finding yours, he gave you a sad smile. “Nikki found a place to put down roots. Went to school and graduated. Her’n Kissie got together...think they’re still makin’ it work...but I don’t see mucha them anymore. Still got Georgie’n Louie, and I still meet up with Robin from time to time...she ain’t been the same since she lost Oz though…he uh…” Ryan cleared his throat. “Oz had demons, you know? He struggled. Drugs’n all that… been about six years now I guess. And Cowboy…” He stared into the fire as your heart sank further. You didn’t dare breathe until he spoke again. “Lost him a year ago...year ago today.”

Your chest tightened as though someone had spun the crank on a vice, that breath you’d been holding fleeing from your constricted lungs. “Ryan…” You’d stopped yourself from reaching out to follow the lines on his fingers, but this time, before stopping yourself even crossed your mind, he’d leaned forward and you’d placed your hand on his back.

It’s a special day for me too. That’s what he’d said when you’d shared what the day meant to you. But you never thought that this was what he meant. You never thought that he’d be hurting in the same was that you were, that he’d be feeling the same things, reliving memories and missing a part of him all at the same time that you were missing a part of yourself. You kept your hand on his back, and he didn’t move away. Your thumb swept slowly up and down over the soft fabric of his tee as he started speaking again, the vibrations of his deep voice rumbling through your palm as a log burned through in the fireplace. “S’what I’m doin’ in Denver. The buddy I was supposed to stay with… Cowboy’s brother. Reason he got stuck up in the mountains is ‘cause he was pickin’ up Cowboy’s girl Virginia and their kid over’n Utah. We’re supposed to meet up for a couple’a days an…” he looked up and towards the window, where the snow was still coming down in silent sheets. He looked back towards you and you let your hand fall away as he sat back against the wall. “I’m sure I’ll get to see ‘em in a day or two. Once this all clears out.”

“Ryan, I’m sorry about your friends…” They were too young. Like my mom. So much more life to live.

He looked down through his lashes at the lines on his fingers. “S’alright, Junebug. Got ‘em with me always.” He picked up his right forearm, rolling it so that you could see another small tattoo that you hadn’t noticed yet. The firelight threw a warm glow over his skin as you read the black lettering: (like a you or a me). “Got this a few weeks after he… after the funeral.”

You recognized the line. “That’s from an E.E. Cummings poem, isn’t it?” You knew that it was.

“Yeah,” the sadness was gone from his voice and it was leaving his eyes, too. “His brother read it at the service…said Cowboy read it at his High School graduation… I never knew that, but, it fits. If you’da known Cowboy… it fits him. An’ it… I donno, it makes me feel connected to him still…he’n I were so much alike…”

“He’s still a part of your life, Ryan, he always will be.”

“Yeah. Yeah… jus’ like your mom.”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You sniffed and sat up on your knees, moving towards the fireplace to throw another log on. Since Kevin had left, you’d gone through this day alone. Processing your emotions and memories, replaying conversations you wish you could have had, or ones you wish could have gone differently. It was comforting to have someone else there…someone who understood, someone who’s presence felt right, even if just for the day.

“Hey,” he’d moved behind you, trading your hand on his back for his on yours, the weight of it grounding you and feeling foreign and familiar at once. “We’re gonna be alright, you know? Just gotta keep on livin’ like they’d want us to.”

You brushed your hands together to get rid of the dirt from the log you’d added to the fire before turning to face him. There were only inches separating the two of you. You could see every detail of his face so clearly- each pore, every line, faint freckles and that one distinct birthmark, the patchy bead and every crack in his lips. You couldn’t remember the last face you’d studied so closely, or the last face that had been so kind, so warm. Despite the heavy topic you’d fallen into, you felt your lips turning up into a smile, felt your heart lighten. “Yeah, you’re right.” You sat back against the wall and he followed suit, leaning into the pillows and blankets you’d piled there. “You mentioned that harmonica before…” He nodded, a glow in his eye that was more than the reflection of the flames. “Wanna play a few songs? For Oz and Cowboy and my mom? I’ll grab my keyboard and…”

“Yeah, Junebug, sounds like a plan.”

The snow was piling high outside, the sky dark and the wind howling. You’d likely be stuck inside all the following day. If I have to be snowed in with anyone… I’m glad it’s him. You didn’t know how long you’d have Ryan in your life, didn’t know if this was meant to mean something or if the two of you were just meant to pass through one another’s worlds just for today, just to be there for each other in the storm. But one thing was certain, and that was that the man who was reaching into his pack for the small silver instrument had landed in your life for a reason. And who am I to question the reasoning of the universe? He blew a short burst of air through the mouthpiece of his harmonica, the bluesy notes adding to the warmth from the fire. No matter how long you’d have each other, you were glad that you were together for the night. Sometime tomorrow or the day after, things would thaw, and you knew he’d be on his way, heading out to meet up with his people. But tonight we’re in this together.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @thebbtongue @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @traeumerinwitzhelden @gollyderek

if you’d like to be added or removed please feel free to let me know!