#ryan brenner story

[padfootagain]

Hello everyone! It’s still hard to believe that I’ve hit 6k followers this month! I can’t believe there are so many of you interested in my silly little stories!!

In order to celebrate, I’ve asked you what kind of event you wanted, and you’ve voted for the tropes/AU event! So, here we go! I’m going to use the same prompts as a previous event, as I prepared a pretty thorough prompt list already.

I hope you have fun during this event!

Carole, what is all this new mess now?

The idea is simple: you can make a request for a character I write for (the list of characters is under the cut) by choosing a prompt in the lists that are (also) under the cut. You can add specific details if you have a more precise idea (but please, remember that I do not write nsfw content). In the coming weeks, I’ll write all your requests! I will accept a maximum of 15 requests, or as many requests as I will have received in the next 72 hours, depending on how many requests are submitted! The requests for this event will thus be open between today (August 14 2023) and Thursday (August 17 2023).

How can we request a fic?

You can request a fic by sending me a message through my inbox. I will not accept requests sent through private messages because it is very difficult for me to keep track of them that way. You can, however, request a fic on or off anon. So, if you’re a little shy, don’t hesitate to send me an anonymous ask!

You must choose a character in the list under the cut, for whom I will write a one-shot using the prompt you have chosen (the list is also under the cut). You can write down only the letter/number corresponding to the prompt you’ve chosen instead of copying them in full if it’s easier for you. You can choose an AU or a trope or an AU and a trope. You can also add whether you would prefer some fluff, angst or hurt/comfort.

You can include additional details if you have a specific idea and want to see it included in the fic ; however, I can reject a request if I don’t feel comfortable with the details you’ve added.

Your request must thus include :

A character from the list below

A prompt from the list below

The combinations for the prompts can be :

An AU only

A trope only

An AU + a trope

For example, you can request :

Caspian, modern AU

OR Caspian, Friends to lovers

OR Caspian, modern AU, Friends to lovers

If you have any questions regarding the event, don’t hesitate to ask me! Also, a little nice word in the request is always nice, don’t forget to at least say ‘hi’ :)

I hope you have fun with this event! I can’t wait to see the combinations you will choose!

Thank you all for your support! Have a lovely day! :)

Characters :

Ben Barnes

Caspian

Ryan Brenner

Logan Delos

Sam Adams (Ben Barnes’s character)

The Darkling

Sirius Black

Blackinnon

Wolfstar

Remus Lupin

Jily

Poe Dameron

Cassian Andor

Jyn Erso

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Ahsoka Tano

AUs :

Modern AU

Florist/ tattoo artist AU

Soulmates AU

Neighbours AU

Roommates AU

Historical AU

Professor AU

Bookshop or library AU

Bodyguard AU

Coffeeshop AU

College AU

Painter or artist AU

Royalty AU

Coworkers AU

Parents AU

Tropes :

Only one bed

Road trip

Caught in a snowstorm

Friends to lovers

Mutual pinning

Enemies to lovers

Idiots in love

Angry love confession

Established relationship

Drunken confession

Wounded character leads to confession

Rivals to lovers

Fake dating

Secret dating 

Arranged marriage

Domestic bliss

Jealousy angst with a happy ending

Poorly-timed confession

Friends with benefits to lovers

Forbidden love

Highly romantic dance scene

Oh… oh no…

Wrong time to right time

"I'm not good enough for you."

Miscommunication

Heard the confession spoken when the other thought they were asleep

Arranged date

Almost kissing

Kissing under the rain

"Please, don't leave…"

******************************

Tagging a few people who might be interested (aka people in the taglist...) : @wolfbrideinhiding @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic @reg-arcturus-black @idek-what-to-put @kpicard @rhapsodyonthethames @intothesoul @pat-sirius @rockintensse @budugu @sayumiht @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites @cloudbroomblog

[cocktailsfairytales]

✩✩ F-R-E-E ANTHOLOGY! ✩ ✩

𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑶𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝑨𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚

🖤Filth loving friends, I’ve teamed up with 1️⃣1️⃣ romance authors to put together a 🩸 dark 🩸 and gritty and 🌶 delicious🌶 anthology full of filthy 💦 contemporary 💋 omegaverse stories with cruel alphas, cunning omegas, and 🔥 hot hot hot heats🔥 .

And the ✨ best ✨ thing about it?

📍 It's F-R-3-3 📍 and available only for a limited time. 🖤

🖤Get your copy here before it's too late: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/f49vgs6wzq

Featuring stories from:

Kitt Lynn

Miranda May

Rachel Callahan

Mona Black

Stephanie Swann

Cassie Lein & Bre Rose

Leann Ryans

SC Morrison

Jo Brenner

Sierra Cassidy

and

Honor St. Jean

#claimedbythedark #ovanthology #omegaversereaders #darkomegaverse #bookstagram #spicybooks #spicybookstagram #bookrecommendations #darkromancereads #darkromance #spicybooks #bookclub #steamyromance #steamyreads #spicybookrecs #smutbooks #romancebookaddict #dsbookpromotions

@Mona Black @DS Book Promotions

[chorusfm]

Oscars 2024 Nominations

The 2024 Oscar nominations have been announced. Best Picture American Fiction (Ben LeClair, Nikos Karamigios, Cord Jefferson and Jermaine Johnson, Producers) Anatomy of a Fall (Marie-Ange Luciani and David Thion, Producers Barbie (David Heyman, Margot Robbie, Tom Ackerley and Robbie Brenner, Producers) The Holdovers (Mark Johnson, Producer) Killers of the Flower Moon (Dan Friedkin, Bradley Thomas, Martin Scorsese and Daniel Lupi, Producers) Maestro (Bradley Cooper, Steven Spielberg, Fred Berner, Amy Durning and Kristie Macosko Krieger, Producers) Oppenheimer (Emma Thomas, Charles Roven and Christopher Nolan, Producers) Past Lives (David Hinojosa, Christine Vachon and Pamela Koffler, Producers) Poor Things (Ed Guiney, Andrew Lowe, Yorgos Lanthimos and Emma Stone, Producers) The Zone of Interest (James Wilson, Producer) Best Directing Justine Triet (Anatomy of a Fall) Martin Scorsese (Killers of the Flower Moon) Christopher Nolan (Oppenheimer) Yorgos Lanthimos (Poor Things) Jonathan Glazer (The Zone of Interest) Best Actor in a Leading Role Bradley Cooper (Maestro) Colman Domingo (Rustin) Paul Giamatti (The Holdovers) Cillian Murphy (Oppenheimer) Jeffrey Wright (American Fiction) Best Actress in a Leading Role Annette Bening (Nyad) Lily Gladstone (Killers of the Flower Moon) Sandra Hüller (Anatomy of a Fall) Carey Mulligan (Maestro) Emma Stone (Poor Things) Best Actor in a Supporting Role Sterling K. Brown (American Fiction) Robert De Niro (Killers of the Flower Moon) Robert Downey Jr. (Oppenheimer) Ryan Gosling (Barbie) Mark Ruffalo (Poor Things) Best Actress in a Supporting Role Emily Blunt (Oppenheimer) Danielle Brooks (The Color Purple) America Ferrera (Barbie) Jodie Foster (Nyad) Da’Vine Joy Randolph (The Holdovers) Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay) American Fiction (Written for the screen by Cord Jefferson) Barbie (Written by Greta Gerwig & Noah Baumbach) Oppenheimer (Written for the screen by Christopher Nolan) Poor Things (Screenplay by Tony McNamara) The Zone of Interest (Written by Jonathan Glazer) Best Writing (Original Screenplay) Anatomy of a Fall (Screenplay by Justine Triet and Arthur Harari The Holdovers (Written by David Hemingson) Maestro (Written by Bradley Cooper & Josh Singer) May December (Screenplay by Samy Burch; Story by Samy Burch & Alex Mechanik) Past Lives (Written by Celine Song) Best Animated Feature The Boy and the Heron (Hayao Miyazaki and Toshio Suzuki) Elemental (Peter Sohn and Denise Ream) Nimona (Nick Bruno, Troy Quane, Karen Ryan and Julie Zackary) Robot Dreams (Pablo Berger, Ibon Cormenzana, Ignasi Estapé and Sandra Tapia Díaz) Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson, Phil Lord, Christopher Miller and Amy Pascal) Best Documentary Feature Film Bobi Wine: The People’s President (Moses Bwayo, Christopher Sharp and John Battsek) The Eternal Memory (Nominees to be determined) Four Daughters (Kaouther Ben Hania and Nadim Cheikhrouha) To Kill a Tiger (Nisha Pahuja, Cornelia Principe and David Oppenheim) 20 Days in Mariupol (Mstyslav Chernov, Michelle Mizner and Raney Aronson-Rath) Best International Feature Film Io Capitano (Italy) Perfect Days (Japan) Society of the Snow (Spain) The Teacher’s Lounge (Germany) The Zone of Interest (United Kingdom) Best Animated Short Film Letter to a Pig (Tal Kantor and Amit R. Gicelter) Ninety-Five Senses (Jerusha Hess and Jared Hess) Our Uniform (Yegane Moghaddam) Pachyderme (Stéphanie Clément and Marc Rius) War Is Over! Inspired by the Music of John & Yoko (Dave Mullins and Brad Booker Best Live-Action Short Film The After (Misan Harriman and Nicky Bentham) Invincible (Vincent René-Lortie and Samuel Caron Knight of Fortune (Lasse Lyskjær Noer and Christian Norlyk) Red, White and Blue (Nazrin Choudhury and Sara McFarlane The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (Wes Anderson and Steven Rales) Best Documentary Short Film The ABCs of Book Banning (Sheila Nevins and Trish… https://chorus.fm/news/oscars-2024-nominations/

[connors-chocolate-history-blog]

WORKS CITED:

Chocolate in the Underworld Space of Death: Cacao Seeds from an Early Classic Mortuary Cave (Keith M. Prufer and William Jeffrey Hurst) Chocolate: Cultivation and Culture in pre-Hispanic Mexico Author(s): Margarita de Orellana, Richard Moszka, Timothy Adès, Valentine Tibère, J.M. Hoppan, Philippe Nondedeo, Nezahualcóyotl, Nikita Harwich, Nisao Ogata, Quentin Pope, Fray Toribio de Benavente, Motolinía, Guadalupe M. Santamaría and Daniel Schechter Source: Artes de México, No. 103, CHOCOLATE: CULTIVO Y CULTURA DEL MÉXICO ANTIGUO (SEPTIEMBRE 2011), pp. 65-80 The Power of Chocolate Author(s): Blake Edgar Source: Archaeology, Vol. 63, No. 6 (November/December 2010), pp. 20-25 Published by: Archaeological Institute of America Tasting Empire: Chocolate and the European Internalization of Mesoamerican Aesthetics by MARCY NORTON CHOCOLATE II: Mysticism and Cultural Blends Author(s): Margarita de Orellana, Quentin Pope, Sonia Corcuera Mancera, José Luis Trueba Lara, Jana Schroeder, Laura Esquivel, Jill Derais, Mario Humberto Ruz, Clara Marín, Miguel León-Portilla, Michelle Suderman, Marta Turok, Mario M. Aliphat Fernández, Laura Caso Barrera, Sophie D. Coe, Michael D. Coe and Pedro Pitarch Source: Artes de México, No. 105, CHOCOLATE II: Mística y Mestizaje (marzo 2012), pp. 73- 96 The Introduction of Chocolate into England: Retailers, Researchers, and Consumers, 1640- 1730 Author(s): Kate Loveman Source: Journal of Social History, Vol. 47, No. 1 (Fall 2013), pp. 27-46 Published by: Oxford University Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/43306044 Encomienda, African Slavery, and Agriculture in Seventeenth-Century Caracas Author(s): Robert J. Ferry Source: The Hispanic American Historical Review, Vol. 61, No. 4 (Nov., 1981), pp. 609-635 Published by: Duke University Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/2514606 Accessed: 12-07-2019 16:34 UTC The Cacao Economy of the Eighteenth-Century Province of Caracas and the Spanish Cacao Market Author(s): Eugenio Pinero Source: The Hispanic American Historical Review, Vol. 68, No. 1 (Feb., 1988), pp. 75-100 Published by: Duke University Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/2516221 Accessed: 12-07-2019 17:03 UTC Establishing Cacao Plantation Culture in the Western World - Timothy Walker The Ghirardelli Story Author(s): Sidney Lawrence Source: California History, Vol. 81, No. 2 (2002), pp. 90-115 Published by: University of California Press in association with the California Historical Society Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/25177676 The Evolution of Chocolate Manufacturing Rodney Snyder, Bradley Foliart Olsen, and Laura Pallas Brindle The Emperors of Chocolate - Inside the Secret World of Hershey and Mars by Joel Glenn Brenner (Random House, 1998) Bitter Chocolate by Carol Off (The New Press, 2006) "Cocoa's child labrorers", Whoriskey, Peter; Siegel, Rachel, The Washington Post, June 10 2019 The Harkin-Engel Protocol (Chocolate Manufacturers' Association, 2001) "Role of Trade Cards in Marketing Chocolate during the Late 19th Century", Virginia Westbrook "Chocolate at the World's Fairs, 1851-1964", Nicholas Westbrook Edible Ideologies by Kathleen LeBesco (SUNY 2008) Cosmopolitan cocoa farmers: refashioning Africa in Divine Chocolate advertisements Author(s): Kristy Leissle Source: Journal of African Cultural Studies, Vol. 24, No. 2 (December 2012), pp. 121-139 Published by: Taylor & Francis, Ltd. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/42005280 Chocolate Nations: Living and Dying for Cocoa in West Africa by Orla Ryan (Zed Books, 2011) Cocoa by Kristy Leissle (Polity, 2018) How Mars Inc., maker of M&Ms, vowed to make its chocolate green. And failed. Mufson, Steven . The Washington Post (Online) , Washington, D.C.: WP Company LLC d/b/a The Washington Post. Oct 29, 2019.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Turn ‘Em Out

A/N: Soooo. I recently posted a list of questions for you to pose to my characters. (I got so many good ones! I’ve worked through about half of them but I have a few more to get to and you know me, I tend to ramble.) Well there was one in particular that I truly hoped someone would ask when I posted that list, and was strongly considering writing the answer to it regardless...but then it DID get asked! And I was pumped! But then I started writing it and...well...it got LONG. And it came with a slew of other asks, so I decided that it was best to answer this particular one separately, and I’ll finish the rest that came in that batch next. Anyways. How’s that for rambling, huh? 

Prompt: @something-tofightfor asked What’s in Ryan’s pockets? 

Word Count: 2,667

Ryan’s got a lot of pockets, which is great because there are a lot of things that he needs and space in his pack and guitar case is limited. He can literally only take with him what he can carry, and he can’t carry too much because he needs to be able to quickly get on and off the trains, so he can’t be too weighed down. This means that every single thing that Ryan Brenner has in his pockets is absolutely essential. 

Let’s start with what he’s got in his jeans. While he’s out and about, his wallet is in his right back pocket. There’s an outline of distinct wear and tear in the shape of the thin, brown leather billfold where he keeps the cash he makes from busking, two pictures, and his driver’s license. Currently, on your floor, he’s got about $168 in cash, most of it made that very day on the 16th Street Mall. The two pictures both have curled, torn edges, the older of the two has a thick crease down the middle from where it had been folded when it lived in a different wallet with a smaller pocket. The older photo was of Ryan with his cousins on the beach from the time he got too drunk and fell asleep without sunscreen. He and Taylor, both red as a radish, were in the center wearing grimaces to go with their burns, surrounded by Patrick, Fitz, Zach, Jimmy and Tommy with wide, goofy, drunken summer grins on their faces. The second photo was from his first year on the rails, out in Oregon with the group of friends he shared his first tattoo with. Oz, Robin, Louie, Nikki, Georgie, Cowboy and Kissie with Ryan mid step to get back into the frame before the timer on the camera went off. The crew was camped out by the bay, two tents that belonged to Oz and Nikki popped up behind the group with a makeshift clothesline and a rock ringed fire pit visible to the left. Cowboy, Robin and Georgie all wore frozen laughs, Ryan’s mouth quirked to the side and his eyes narrowed in a comeback to whatever smart ass comment Oz had just made. Both of them reminded him that he had his tribe of people scattered across the country and back home in Georgia, and he’d pull them out on cold, lonely nights on the train or sleeping in a park, and looking at them would always make him feel less alone. He could almost hear their laughter and feel their embrace, and when the hour was appropriate the next day, he’d give someone a call just to fill his ear with a familiar voice. 

His driver’s license was issued in Montana about four years ago. At that point he still had about a year on his Georgia license before it would need to be renewed, but he didn’t want to limit himself and have to go back if that’s not where the road was taking him. He’d be back soon enough for another cousin reunion, and he didn’t want there to be a lapse in valid I.D.s. They were hard enough for him to get when they weren’t expired; without a permanent address, the amount of paperwork you need to bring to the DMV is astounding. So since he had planned to spend a whopping 4 weeks in Livingston, MT to help Georgie’s uncle’s friend repair fences and patch the roof of the barn after a particularly harsh hail season (the price was RIGHT so even though it meant sticking in one spot for much longer than he was used to, Ryan couldn’t pass it up) he decided that it was as good a time as any to get a new license since Byron, the owner of the ranch and the man who was putting him, Cowboy, Virginia and Georgie up in the guesthouse, had allowed Ryan to use his address to have some mail forwarded, so voila! A “permanent” Montana residence. Montana licenses are good for eight years, too, so he’s still got a while before he needs to decide where to renew. 

Ryan’s back left pocket held a pair of thick wool gloves, palms tucked in and fingers waving free. They’d been a Christmas gift from Cowboy and Virginia (Ryan knew it was really Ginny who’d chosen the gloves with him in mind.) and they saved him from frostbite on plenty of occasions. They were bulky with insulated lining sand reinforced deerskin palms, and when his hands had all but cracked and bled from playing for hours in winter weather, they were a welcome reprieve. He couldn’t wear them getting on or off the trains, because the knit stitching was liable to snag on some part of the car. Ryan has heard his share of stories about what can happen when your clothes get caught in a chain or a rough, weathered edge of the steel, so he slips them off right before hopping and shoves them in his pocket. (He’s got a pair of canvas work gloves, too, but they’re inside the main part of his pack with his clothes. Those are for odd jobs and things that crop up along the way) 

Ryan’s knife is in his front right pocket. It’s small, with a carved wooden handle. It’s old. Older than Ryan. It belonged to his grandfather and His aunt (Patrick’s mom) gave it to him when he was home around his 22nd birthday. It wasn’t a secret that Ryan was granddaddy’s favorite; he saw the same spark of mischief and excitement for life that he had as a younger man. Some of Ryan’s favorite memories from his childhood are of summer afternoons, when the sun was too hot to be out for too long and he and his cousins would be forced to find shade for an hour or two, and he’d sit on the porch next to his grandfather as he whittled whistles and figurines. He’d pile up the curled shavings, wrapping them around his fingers as he watched forms of bears and birds appear out of solid blocks of wood. Once he asked him if he could teach him how to carve. 

Granddaddy laughed and ruffled Ryan’s mop of soft brown locks, lightened from the summer sun. “When yer older, Ry’n. You’ll chop yer fingers clean off, I teach ya now.” 

Ryan never got to learn. The time was never right before he left, and there never seemed to be enough when he was home, and then time ran out and Ryan was left with one of the biggest regrets that he’ll carry; that he didn’t make the time. So when his aunt gave him the knife when he was home around his 22nd birthday, Ryan’s eyes went wide before blinking fat tears from the corners, and the knife instantly became his most prized possession. He still doesn’t know how to carve, but he uses it almost every day. 

His left front pocket is for random extra necessities, which vary by season. In the winter there might be a few hand warmer packets, cough drops or some kind of hard candy, maybe some tissues or a handful of paper napkins. 

The heavy canvas coat he wore held some of the most vital items as those pockets closed with zippers or buttons. The inner breast pocket housed his black plastic flip phone, the charger cable wound around it. It was by far the most important item he carried in terms of survival. The ability to call for help should he need it was crucial, making the charger cable just as important as the phone itself. It was also his link to the people that mattered most to him, his way to let them all know that he was okay, a way for them to do the same. Radio silence from time to time was normal, but contact through the network every few weeks or so put everyone’s hearts at ease. Right now, around your third or fourth song on your floor in front of the fireplace, Ryan’s wondering if you’ll be added to that network… wondering if you want to add him to yours. 

The lower inside pocket is larger, so it can hold a few of the bulkier things that he carries. There’s a keychain sized flashlight that may have been attached to an actual keychain at one point. Ryan’s not even sure where it came from, but it has come in handy on more than one cloudy night when he couldn’t rely on the moon or stars for visual assistance. A standard Bic lighter (currently a plain red one) and a book of matches from a motel he’d stayed in with Georgie and some of his new friends down in Jackson, MS a few months back. He had about twelve matchbooks in a plastic zipper bag in his pack, habitually taking them anytime they were offered- motels, diners, truckstops. Plenty of smoke shops that he’d stopped in offered a free book with a pack of papers. Being able to start a fire for cooking or warmth was crucial, and having fire to light an expertly rolled smoke was a bonus. There was also always a length of twine, coiled and tied off to avoid tangling into a knot. It was useful in dozens of ways, some of the most used being as additions to fire starters, makeshift clotheslines, and replacement shoelaces. Loose or untied shoes due to a broken lace are unacceptable for a number of reasons, but all purpose twine works as a stop gap until he can get new laces. Whenever he gets close to running out, Ryan visits a local hardware shop and restocks. 

There’s one more inner pocket on the opposite side. It’s small but it only has very small items in it, and they almost never leave their place so it works just fine. Ryan’s not a superstitious man, but he’s not about to turn down good luck, so this pocket serves as a tiny treasure trove of things he’d acquired over the years that have supposedly been partially to blame for his continued good fortune: a lucky penny Taylor had given him before he left the very first time. She was only 14 then, but she swore that penny was with her on “the best days of her life” and she wanted Ryan to have it so only good things would come to him on his travels. She probably doesn’t remember it anymore, but Ryan’s kept it the entire time. Tucked in with the penny is the first guitar pick he’d ever used, his own little charm that he wasn’t sure was lucky per say, but that he couldn’t seem to part with. There was a four leafed clover that Robin had sent him from somewhere outside Seattle along with a postcard. (When he’d make it back to Georgia, usually every three years or so, he’d always have a small bundle of letters and postcards from his road family. Maybe someone spent a week longer than planned in a city that they fell in love with and they wanted to share the recommendation. Maybe someone saw something or heard something or felt something that reminded them of him. Maybe someone just missed him and wanted to write it down. Ryan tried to scribble notes now and then, too.) 

The last item in that pocket was a flint arrowhead that he’d been given as a gift a few summers ago. He’d been staying in Kentucky for about a week or so with Cowboy and his cousin Nate, and Nate’s ex wife had unexpectedly dropped their son Julian off about two days in to Ryan and Cowboy’s stay. Aat first Ryan’s inclination was that he and Cowboy should hit the road and change their plans, maybe head on up to Ohio or Pennsylvania for a stretch, but Nate insisted that they stay. Julian was 9 but had the attitude of a 19 year old, and Ryan couldn’t really blame the kid from what he’d seen of his parents. (He was grateful to Nate for letting him have a place to crash, a shower, somewhere to cook and rest up. But it was clear from the way that he and Maya, Julian’s mom, screamed at each other, neither of them were mature enough to raise a well adjusted kid.) By the third day, Julian was bored as all hell, and Nate had no real clue what to do with him. Ryan figured it wasn’t that hard, just offer to include him in what you’re doing and see if he bites. “Hey Julian, I’m headed into town to hit the hardware store. Need to get some twine. You wanna come?” “Hey, Julian, I’mma sit out back and play a little, maybe see some constellations if you wanna join.” “Julian, we’re goin’ fishin’ later, you in?” By the end of the stay, Julian’s mood had improved and Nate was left dumbfounded, asking Ryan if he had kids and how he knew how to get through to his son. 

Ryan shrugged. “Just treat ‘em like people.” 

Julian had found a handful of arrowheads on that fishing excursion after Ryan showed him what to look for and where he was most likely to find one (along the banks of the small river), and when he and Cowboy were getting ready to head out, Julian shoved one in Ryan’s hand with a nod of his prematurely serious head. If his granddaddy’s knife took the number one spot, and his guitar held number two, Julian’s arrowhead, Taylor’s penny, Robin’s clover and his pick collectively took the number three slot in the things that were most important to him. Ryan wasn’t superstitious. Not at all. But whether those items brought him luck or not, he wouldn’t be caught without them. 

The two front pockets of his coat were usually empty unless his scarf was stuffed into one- depending on where he was, if the sun was high sometimes it was warm even in winter, and he’d find himself sweating in the thick, cable knit scarf. But in just an hour or so the weather could change drastically, so rolling it up and securing it away in his pack would be inconvenient if he’d be needing it again so soon. The old Carhartt’s front pockets were deep and wide and the entire scarf fit in one with no problem. The other would sometimes have a granola bar or a bag of nuts, something quick he’d picked up at a convenience store or gas station that he could munch on through the day, in between songs or while seated in the back of a pickup hitching from the train yard to wherever the next destination was. 

It would be too much to get into every item in his pack, but the essentials in the top front pocket include a toothbrush and paste, small travel sized bottle of mouthwash, bar of soap stored in a seafoam green plastic clamshell holder, and a travel sized shampoo. In a separate zipper bag in that same portion is a small tube of sunscreen, one of moisturizers, a few band aids, some tape and an antiseptic cream for small burns, cuts and nicks. In another of the front pockets he keeps his leather bound notebook, two pencils and a pen, along with a small print out map that boasted stars and circles for all the places he’d traveled to- circles meaning he’d been there once, stars indicating multiple visits. His harmonica also had a home in that pouch for easy access on long quiet stretches of rail.  

There wasn’t a stitch of extra space anywhere on him, but somehow Ryan always managed to fit anything and everything that he needed. He’d left things with people and gained new items along the way, but somehow the amount of space he had always accommodated exactly what he needed it to. 

.

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

apologies if you didn’t want to be tagged in this essay, i just went with the Passing Through taglist :) 

[nopefun]

Interview #495: Quince Pan

q: Give a short introduction of yourself: a: I am Quince Pan, a documentary photographer born in 2000, currently based in Singapore. I am now waiting to enter university to study Philosophy, Politics and Economics.

q: What is your series "JBM" about? What was the process of making the series? a: “JBM”, my family’s abbreviation of “Jalan Bukit Merah”, is a documentary photo project centred on my maternal grandmother, Lau Giok Niu, her cultural heritage and her HDB flat where I spent my childhood under her care. It is my first exhibited series and also my first serious long-term documentary project.

In 2015, I followed my grandmother to visit her hometown in Fengwei, Quangang District, Quanzhou City, Fujian, China. Bringing my camera along on the trip, I noticed that instead of shooting purely for fun or beauty, I would include certain objects (for example, a calendar on the wall) in my frames because they had historical significance. I submitted those Fengwei photos as my portfolio for the 2016 Noise Art Mentorship (Photography and Moving Images). I got selected, and my mentor, Jean Qingwen Loo, urged me to pursue a project which I could speak authentically about. Through her criticism, I learnt to further prioritise meaning over style. My grandmother and my childhood were topics close to my heart, especially as she cared for me during my childhood and gave me the gift of the 头北 Thâu-pak dialect, a unique variant of Hokkien from the Quangang District. Eventually, “JBM” was born as my mentorship capstone, and was exhibited at the “Between Home and Home” Noise Art Mentorship Showcase at Objectifs in 2017. I haven’t stopped shooting; that’s why it’s an ongoing long-term project!

“JBM” contains a range of visual styles, ranging from photojournalistic fly-on-the-wall documentations of heated family discussions and visits by distant relatives from China to more tender images of sunlight at the void deck where my late grandfather’s wake was held in 2006. Rituals and festivities are anthropologically significant, so I pay particular attention to Chinese New Year, the Qing Ming Festival and the Winter Solstice, which my family celebrates. I also look at how other photographers document their families: Bob Lee, Nicky Loh, Bernice Wong, Brian Teo and Nancy Borowick.

More broadly, “JBM'' extends beyond photography and is a family history project. Since 2013, I have been researching the Quangang district, 头北 Thâu-pak dialect and my grandmother’s clan. I discovered that other descendants from her clan established an ancestral temple in Singapore, which initially stood on Craig Road but is now housed in a flat in Telok Blangah. I already did some fieldwork, interviews and preliminary documentation, which led to an article I published in April 2021 in Daojia: Revista Eletrônica de Taoismo e Cultura Chinesa. Maybe I will explore this in greater depth in future photo projects!

q: How did you get into photography? a: When I was around seven years old, I loved to play with my father’s Fujifilm compact. As a young student, I hadn’t heard of terms such as “light painting”, “Dutch angle” and “rule of thirds”, but those were the techniques I subconsciously used in my photographs. 

I entered the Noise Art Mentorship, as previously mentioned. During the school holidays, I worked as a media intern at Logue and as an assistant at Objectifs for the “Passing Time” exhibition and book by Lui Hock Seng. Through these work experiences, I learnt so much from Jean Loo, Yang Huiwen, Ryan Chua, Lim Mingrui and Chris Yap: news angles, editorial writing, scanning and touching up negatives and slides, colour management for print, liaising with clients and issuing invoices, among other skills. As part of the Noise Art Mentorship, I was given a copy of “+50” by the PLATFORM collective, which opened my eyes to diverse approaches within the documentary genre. I started to regularly attend talks at Objectifs and DECK, where I got to know people in the local photography scene, particularly in the documentary tradition.

q: You also do videography. How do you see it in relation to your photography? a: Videography requires a different way of seeing and thinking compared to photography, because video has additional temporal and auditory dimensions. With photography, I don’t have to think about how long I want a scene to be, what foley and B-roll I want to overlay, or have a storyboard in my head before heading out to shoot. In that sense, photography is more reactive to and receptive of situational contingencies because it requires less pre-planning. 

Also, photography can be a solitary endeavour, but it is quite difficult to make films alone, and the schoolmates I used to make films with have since embarked on separate paths in life. However, photography and videography share the same basics as visual media: composition and sequencing.

Fundamentally, I see myself as a documentarian, and this applies to any medium I work in, be it photography or videography, or even writing. The end goal is to record and share history by telling stories from lesser-known perspectives. Thus, the topics of my video projects are similar to the topics of my photo projects; sometimes I do both side by side! The films I made were all documentary shorts of places which do not exist anymore, such as the Hup Lee coffee shop at 114 Jalan Besar and the old Sembawang Hot Spring before NParks took over the site from MINDEF and redeveloped it. 

Currently, I am working as a videographer for Sing Lit Station’s poetry.sg archive. Thankfully, this job can be done solo!

q: What or who is inspiring you right now? a: Bob Lee, for being an amazing father and spreading hope and joy to others through his images. Alex and Rebecca Webb, for pairing literature with photography. Tom Brenner, for approaching photojournalism like street photography. Sim Chi Yin, for her international achievements and being both an academic and a practitioner. Brian Teo, for being an eminent contemporary. Last but not least, Kevin WY Lee’s advice, “CPR: Craft, Point, Rigour”, which I try to benchmark my work against.

q: Upcoming projects or ideas? a: Nothing concrete on my mind so far. I am just going to see where life takes me and what topics life makes me want to explore or talk about.

q: Any music to recommend? a: First and foremost, my fight song: “倔强 Stubborn” by Mayday. A close second, Queen’s 1986 “Under Pressure” live performance at Wembley is a transformative experience. The catchy “他夏了夏天 He Summered Summer” by Sodagreen brings out the grandeur in the mundane. “Silhouette” by KANA-BOON and “Everybody’s Changing” by Keane remind me of the fragility of life and time. I also like The Fray, Kings of Leon, Last Dinosaurs, Stephanie Sun, Tanya Chua, and the Taiwanese indie band DSPS.

his website.

Get more updates on our Facebook page and Instagram.

[fific7]

London, 07 Sep 2021

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺

500+ Follower Celebration - Fic Rec

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻

Well, looky here!

I’m amazed that I’m taking this Tumblr journey along with more than 500 of you fluffy little bunnies. And I’m very thankful that you take the time to look at my BB pix/edits and read my fics. They’ve helped get me through this pandemic so thank you for joining me along the way.

To celebrate, I’m going link some 5-star fics from my Tumblr moots and faves, because they inspire me! These aren’t the only things they’ve written by a long chalk, so don’t feel constrained to stop at just these. Thanks for writing these, guys.

I could on forever adding to the list tbh and I just know I’ve missed some other great fics off here! There are such really good reads out there (too many to mention), so please keep exploring!

🥰🧡🥰🤍🥰

(PS where there is a link to part 1, please go to the author’s character masterlist for the rest)

Enjoy!

@something-tofightfor Neon Lights (Ryan Brenner) Steel City (Billy Russo)

@the-blind-assassin-12 Passing Through (Ryan Brenner) See You in New York (Logan Delos, WIP)

@illshowyourhurricanes A Familiar Face (Ryan Brenner) (link to Part 1) The Capsize (Billy Russo)

@its-my-little-dumpster-fire Deed I Do and My Private Affair (John Whittaker) 21st Century Gypsy Singin’ Lover Man (Ryan Brenner)

@banditthewriter It’s a Hard Love (Billy Russo) Choose Your Fate (Billy Russo)

@omgrachwrites Our Souls Crave This Magic (Caspian AU) The Princess and The Duke (Sirius Black AU)

@logans-chestnuts For Now (Logan Delos) (link to part 1) The Lies We Tell Ourselves (Logan Delos) (link to part)

@delos-mio Death of a Batchelor (Logan Delos) (link to story page with chapter links) Partners (Logan Delos) (link to story page with chapter links)

@flightlessangelwings Protect (Billy Russo) (link to part) The Weight of Emptiness (Billy Russo)

@queen-haq A Woman Scorned (Billy Russo) (link to part 1, WIP)

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻

[ohbenbarnes]

Mobile Navigation

Ben’s Things:

Ben’s Instagram

Ben’s Twitter

Ben’s Facebook Page

OBB Common Tags/Organization:

CHARACTERS

Billy Russo (The Punisher)

The Darkling (Shadow & Bone)

Logan Delos (Westworld)

Benjamin Greene (Gold Digger)

Ryan Brenner (Jackie & Ryan)

Nick Tortano (By the Gun)

Prince Caspian (Chronicles of Narnia)

Sam Adams (Sons of Liberty)

John Whittaker (Easy Virtue)

Tom Ward (Seventh Son)

Dorian Gray (The Picture of Dorian Gray)

Other

CREATIONS

Fanfics & Stories

Fan Art

Gifs

Edits

SOCIAL MEDIA

Instagram

Twitter

[suchatinyinfinity]

Hey Dani!! I’m sorry you don’t feel good and I hope you feel better soon!!

8, 15, 26 + one you haven’t answered yet for the writing asks

The not feeling good lasted for days, obviously, but thank you for your well-wishes and the asks!

8. How slow is a slow burn? My initial instinct is to say that it all depends on the pacing of a story as well as the characters involved. Are they naturally affectionate, or does it make them squirm? How is their rapport-- do they openly flirt? That type of story would make for a long slow-burn even though there is something obviously going on between them. A slow-burn is as tortuous for writers (in my opinion, because pacing and leading to the climax has to be perfect) as it is to readers. I love a slow-burn, I've digressed from my answer to the question. Like I said, it's as slow as they story calls for!

15. What's your favorite plotless fic you've written? Man, this is a hard one, because I have quite a few, and they're all so different! I really like Mississippi Delta Magic (Ryan Brenner) but I'm going to have to go with Swan Song. (Billy Russo, season 2). I'm really proud of the way that one turned out.

26. What would you describe as OOC? I'm assuming this means for the characters I currently write, so I'l give you one for all of them! OOC for Russo is anything to do with a family or marriage; OOC for Brenner is buying a house and settling down; OOC for Logan is having a happy ever after... I'm kidding. OOC for Logan is as if Westworld never happened, and OOC for Benjamin Greene would be all bookworm with no sense of humor or flirtation in sight. I don't think I answered this right, but here ya go!

As for of my own choosing...

14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that. The demons spoke to him with whispers in the wind.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

What does Ryan do when he's sad?

Layers

A/N: everyone gets sad sometimes, even pure sunbeams like Ryan Brenner.

Word Count: 784

It was almost a year since he’d lost Cowboy- the closest thing to having a brother that Ryan would ever know. Sure he had a gaggle of cousins that he’d always be close with. He had Georgie, he had friends from coast to coast that he could call on anytime, day or night, to play music with, to stay with, to bum a ride or a shower. But Cowboy understood him better than anyone. He supported him both musically and as a human. He taught him things like how to build a fire when everything was wet, how to talk to women when you didn’t want what they might be offering, and how to find all the layers in the things that might seem flat.

“See that fire, Ry? Ain’t just a fire. Fire’s a word means destruction. Means intensity. But that there’s more’n a fire. That’s forked tongues a flame, dancin’ on them logs ‘gainst the night. That’s embers burnin’ so perfectly they don’ know if they wanna be red or orange or black or ash. Fire ain’t just a fire, Ry. Gotta look at the layers. Gotta find the music and then you’ll never be anythin’ but happy.”

He could hear Cowboy’s accent-thick as mud, with a carefree lilt- in his mind whenever he found himself wishing for a second opinion that wasn’t there, or found himself doubting his instincts or impressions. “Look for the layers, Ryan. Can’t go wrong ifya look for the layers. Find ‘em in everything.” He could hear it now, peeling back the sadness.

Hunched in a train car just outside of Colorado, Ryan tried not to dwell on how much he missed the friend that had been taken from him too soon. He tried instead to spend the journey west (he was meeting with Virginia and the little sprout and Cowboy’s brother Jess) looking for the layers in the last couple years of memories; looking back through the good times for all the little details.

Playing the streets of Nashville with Georgie and a girl that went by Murph; staying out all night until the moonshine flowed in the night sky and into their flasks; laughing at the beads of sweat rolling down Georgie’s face as the man watched Murph’s slender fingers work the strings of her banjo. Teasing his friend for days about the hearts in his eyes over Murph’s big smile and bigger laugh.

Cooking hotdogs over a bright blue sterno flame in the brisk New England Autumn with Cowboy; the cold air biting their faces, the piping hot sausages burning their fingers; the cornucopia of colors bursting from the branches of trees and the flapping of the tent in the breeze keeping a lively rhythm.

The last call he’d made to his cousin Taylor, and the way he’d almost dropped the cigarette from his lips when he smiled at her surprised, “Hot Damn, Ryan, s’good ta hear your voice! When you comin’ home?” How he could picture her jumping down from the counter, eyes wide while she twirled the end of one braided pigtail; how not much had changed about Taylor- except that now she was married with two kids and one on the way; the mixture of mischief and loyalty still clear in her voice.

Playing in West Virginia under a string of lights in Cowboy’s home town, the porch boards beneath his boots. A new song dancing on the warm air and the feeling that his friend was listening, slapping his knee and whistling along. The way the honeysuckle sweetened the night and how the loneliness left him for a while.

The wheels bumped along the rails as the sun rose over the plains, and Ryan took note all the things he saw. More’n a sunrise, Cowboy. That there’s a paintin’. He smiled to himself as the sadness melted away. The clouds casting swaths of shade along the fields, the mountains poking up from the crust of the earth in the distance, the purple morning light and the stars silently blinking out to make way for the sun. He stood and gripped the sides of the car, gaze fixed West, eager to catch the first glimpse of Denver, eager to find all the layers hidden in the city.

“Ain’t no room for sadness, Ry. The world’s too fulla beauty for that.”

He was right. Of course he was right. And every time Ryan started to feel that sadness, that loneliness, that deep missing, start to creep in, he looked back at the layers, digging for gold and coming up grinning. Can’t wait to see what this city’s got for me, Cowboy. Can't wait to see what I add to the good times.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou

[binbons-character-stuff]

1K FOLLOWER EVENT!!!!

I am so grateful that 1000 of you wonderful people want to read my stories about Benny’s characters! For the celebration, I wanted to do something a little different from the title fics, so we’re going to do Prompt Improv! Those of you who follow @hermioneshandbag​ and @logans-chestnuts​ may be familiar with this, but for my new friends, here we go!

How it Works:

There will be a list of dialogue prompts, places and scenarios. You will pick one or two dialogue prompts, one place and one scenario. I will improvise a drabble or short fic based on your choices. 

Choose a Ben Barnes Character

Choose one or two dialogue prompts

Choose a place

Choose a scenario

Also:

Please follow this blog

Reblog this post

Check out my other blogs if you’d like

Send me an ask with your choices

No anons this time around so I get to everyone’s request, but if you let me know, I will post without your name.

Send in as many as you want, and I may write more than one of your choices!

Blacklist #binbons 1k follower event if you don’t want to see more about this

The Lists

Characters

Billy Russo

Ryan Brenner

Benjamin Greene

John Whittaker

Sam Adams

Caspian X

Nick Tortano

Tom Ward

Dialogue

“Well! You always know how to brighten up my day!”

“I’d rather count the freckles on your nose.”

“Who’s a good boy??!!”

“Is this seat taken?”

“The bed is taking up the whole space. What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Wellll!! This just got really interesting.”

“Did you really just say that?”

“Are you bleeding?”

“Please pass the cyanide, I don't want to go on living.”

“I hope it was worth it.”

“No, you don't get to say that, not now.”

“I can do this all day.”

“I need a nap.”

“Do you really think that's a good idea?”

“I’m allergic.”

“Clean it up!”

“Was that supposed to make me swoon?”

“I can't stop!”

“We need a lot more practice.”

“If we survive this I am going to kill you.”

“Oh, and I suppose it's my fault?”

You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Yeah, right there.”

“You gonna eat that?”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Look, don't ask any questions, just run!”

“Are you crying?”

“My eyes are up here.”

“What is that purplish mark on your neck?”

“Am I going to run into you everywhere now?”

“I never thought closets could be so exciting.”

“What in the world is that?”

“Please give me a chance to explain.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“I can’t believe you kept this all these years.”

“Why is your hair orange??!!”

"What's in it for me?"

“Are you planning to wear that in public?”

“Oh, no you don't!”

“How dare you!”

“Chocolate solves everything.”

“Exactly how drunk are you?”

“It wouldn't be the same without you.”

“Stop that, people will see!”

"Sorry, one's more than enough for me."

"Scoot over next to me and nobody will see anything."

"Do you always have to take everything too far?"

"You're dead to me!"

"You are quite possibly the very dumbest person in the long and storied history of dumb people."

“Ma’am, is this your dog?”

“No, it’s really not that complicated. He’s a bad person.”

“Hey… what’s wrong with your face?”

“The king is missing.”

“Ah yes, come in. Close the door behind you.”

“How could you do this to me?”

“Um, sorry. That one’s not for sale.”

“You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

“Ain’t nobody ever told you who your real daddy is?”

“I know this may be hard to believe, but I’m on your side.”

“Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

“Just sit around and cry, then. I don’t have that luxury.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“That’s the nice thing about telling the truth. You don’t have nearly as much to keep track of.”

“Of course we’re best friends. No one else would put up with our shenanigans.”

“That’s the least of your worries.”

“Do you trust me?”

“You found it on the beach? You know, when most people take a walk on the beach, they pick up seashells.”

“Sir. This is for children only.”

“I haven’t tried this on a human yet, but it should be very similar.”

“What? I meant it as a compliment.”

“Who put this in my coat pocket?”

“I can’t do this any more."

“I know you did your best, but it just wasn’t enough.”

“Even if I could stop it, I wouldn’t.”

“You have got to see this.”

“I don’t really think of myself as a thief…”

“Are you just going to keep walking by or are you going to come in?”

“Please return to your assigned seat.”

“Dude. It’s 3 in the morning.”

“I can’t believe I used to think he was attractive.”

“Where are your clothes?”

“Well, you have me here. What now, pray tell?"

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“I should have told you this a long time ago.”

“I am only telling the truth when I say that you have not behaved completely as a gentleman in this matter.”

“I thought we were friends!”

“I thought I loved you, but I don’t even think I know who you really are.”

“She’s evil, but she does have a point there.”

“I didn’t know you could talk.”

“Sweetie, what were you thinking?”

“What makes you think it was an accident?”

“I know you’re here. You may as well show yourself.”

“This isn’t going to be a typical best man speech.”

“We thought at first that it was part of the performance.”

“I would break his thumbs right now if I could.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“That’s the worst reason I’ve ever heard to have a baby.”

“I didn’t even recognize you!”

“Is it worth breaking your vows over?”

“I told you not to read that.”

“Put the turkey down.”

“I didn’t ask to be abducted.”

“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

“I thought you had him!”

“Humility is not one of my many virtues.”

“How can you stand living here?”

“You don’t have the correct paperwork.”

“Careful not to break the—oh.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but yes.”

“Well aren’t you the cutest little thing?”

“Please don’t use sarcasm. It confuses me to think you're capable of wit.”

“After we lost you, things just weren’t the same.”

“If you were logical you would’ve killed me already.”

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

“Sometimes I feel like she’s still at my side.”

“We’ve been waiting two hours.”

“Your services are no longer required.”

“I feel like we’ve met before…”

“Does he hit you?”

“Yes, it’s a questionable line of work, but I’m good at it.”

“She’s in the building.”

“Wow! It’s an honor to meet you.”

“I’m cured. I swear.”

“My chances of living to a ripe old age are unfortunately excellent.”

“Let’s face it, you don’t exactly blend in.”

“Forgive me if I’m misreading things, but do you want to kiss me?”

“Seriously?”

“That does not look good.”

“You were in an accident. Can you tell me your name?”

“Pretend to be here with me, this creep won't leave me alone!”

“Is that a gun/knife/crossbow in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

"I can't believe you did that!"

“That is the worst line I have ever heard.”

“The next time you break the law, don’t do it in front of so many witnesses.”

“Sometimes being a total bookworm pays off.”

Places

Hallway

Sidewalk

Lake cottage

Hospital

Your residence

Restaurant

Wedding

Funeral

Jail

The beach

A Society function/ball

The Forest

A cave

the mountains

A ship

A shop

a park

Library

An attic

A bar or pub

Scenarios

Reunion

Injured In a fight

Best friends to lovers

Stranded together

Drunk

Jealousy

You’re his tutor

Meet the parents

Waiting Room

Cooking/baking

Kidnapped

Blackmail

Mistaken identity

Both reaching for the last one

Forbidden love

Belated love epiphany

Road trip romance

Second chance

The one that got away

Marriage of convenience

Lose a bet

Wingman fail

Bodyguard

[banditthewriter]

Ryan Brenner’s Soulmate

Another one of my soulmate oneshots for my anniversary! 

Trope: They are only able to see in black and white until they meet their soulmate.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

The world in black and white wasn’t as bad as some people made it out to be. Granted some of that came from the frustration and stigma that surrounded people who could not see in color.

Somewhere in the world you knew that your soulmate was also seeing in black and white. That helped you accept the reality a lot easier than most people in your situation. You weren’t alone in the world, not really.

As you pulled on your uniform for the diner, you wondered what your soulmate thought about the black and white life they lived in. Did they dream of the day they would see colors? Did they wonder what you looked like? Did they struggle with their black and white life like you knew some people did?

Did they even care?

Not everyone wanted a soulmate. You’d read plenty of stories about a person who would meet their soulmate and, with their world now lit up in every color of the rainbow, would disappear without a trace.

The walk to the diner was mostly in a wooded area, but you didn’t mind. Few cars went down the road that led to your neighborhood so you walked along the street, your eyes eating up the scenery. A game you sometimes played with yourself is naming the colors that you knew existed in the world but that you wouldn’t be able to pick out when you first got your colored vision.

Red. Green. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Orange. 

Then there would be other colors, like magenta and violet and seafoam. You knew the names of all of the colors and you couldn’t wait until you could identify them all.

The diner that you worked at was called Mikey’s. The sign was large and flickered. You were told the background of the sign was green, but of course you just had to take their word for it. It was tucked into a little side street but it was usually pretty busy. This close to the train station, you got a lot of drifters and tourists.

People loved coming to small towns. You didn’t understand the appeal. You’d leave if you could.

Today the diner was pretty quiet, a few people sprinkled around different tables and booths. Once you were inside, you moved around comfortably. Tea for table three, extra fries for booth six, more silverware for table seven, glasses of water for table one, bring food out to booth five.

It was something you had done for years and it only required half of your attention. The rest of you looked around for any of the new people in the diner. Would they be your soulmate? But every time you met their eyes and everything stayed dim, you felt that flicker in the pit of your stomach.

You wanted to meet your soulmate for more than just the colors that would come. You wanted to meet them because you were ready to fall in love, you yearned for it. How long until you would get that chance? 

The day ticked on more and more until it was time to close up. You swept the floor, stacked the chairs, and told Mikey you’d see him tomorrow. The walk home was dark and lonely, but you were used to it.

Today was not the day that you’d meet your soulmate but maybe tomorrow. 

Just like always, you hoped your soulmate had a good evening.

------

The diner was fairly empty as the clock said that it was almost time to close up. You moved around the tables and cleared off what you could, smiling at the regulars and checking on the people you didn’t recognize. It had been a long day and you were ready to get off of your feet.

The bell over the door made you look up. A man walked in with a hat pulled down over his eyes, a bag on his back and a guitar case hanging from his hand. You watched the other waitress greet him and get his order.

“He’s handsome,” Kelly said as she joined you on the other side of the counter, her eyes darting over to the man who was curled into himself a bit. “Kinda quiet, but I don’t mind that.”

You flicked her wrist with a laugh.

“I’m guessing you aren’t seeing the rainbow,” you said, using the phrase most people used for when they met their soulmate.

“No, but I’d still like to see more of him.”

Kelly was relentless. A lot of people didn’t mind sleeping with someone even if they weren’t soulmates, but that had never been what you wanted to do. You preferred to wait until you either found someone you loved, color or no, or found your soulmate.

A little while later, Kelly had stepped out back for a smoke break before it was time to close up. You watched a few of the last people leave. It left an older couple in the back and the newbie. You hovered near the counter, not wanting to step on Kelly’s toes. You’d seen her flirting, but she hadn’t seemed to have much luck.

You didn’t want to flirt with the newcomer, but you did want to check if he needed a top up on his coffee. Maybe a to go cup because he looked exhausted.

With one of the to go cups in hand, you went to the coffee maker and poured it in. You’d leave room for sugar and creamer, but you grabbed one of the cardboard sleeves and a lid. Then you headed over to where the newcomer was sitting.

“Thought you could use a pick me up,” you said as you bent down to grab a few napkins to wipe up a few droplets that you spilled. “It’s on the house. You just look like you’re…”

You met his eyes as you handed over the cup and the moment your eyes met his, you felt like you were in the middle of an explosion. Color. The world was washed in brightness, despite the late hour. 

The color of the booths was hideous. Mikey really needed to change that.

“Oh,” you breathed as you put the cup down and slumped against the counter. “Uh, hi? I’m uh… I’m Y/N.”

The man seemed just as shocked as you, but his eyes weren’t moving over the diner like yours had been. No, he was looking at you. You looked down and winced when you realized that your uniform was a pretty ugly color as well.

“I’m Ryan,” he said, his voice soft and low. It made you look back up at him. “I’m… I was heading out tonight, but I think maybe I should stay.”

You laughed and closed your eyes, feeling your heart race in your chest.

“I hope you do.”

------

Kelly was disappointed that the newcomer was spoken for, but she wasn’t upset. In fact she squealed so loud that Mikey came running thinking that she’d seen a mouse.

Ryan had laughed, the sound so perfect that it melted you down to your toes.

------

Mikey gave you the next day off so that you and Ryan could get to know each other. You took him around town, showing him the sights of the place where you had been born and raised. The two of you talked for hours, learning as much about each other as you could in such a short time.

He was a drifter, hopping trains around the country. He didn’t have a permanent address, didn’t have a permanent anything. You felt the apprehension of it in your chest, the knowledge that he would be leaving at some point hanging over your head as the two of you spent the day together.

He noticed it as well.

“You’re worried about something,” he said as he sat down next to you on a bench, both of you surrounded by what felt like a hundred different colors in the middle of the park.

“You’ll be leaving,” you said quietly as you looked down at your hands. The hands of a waitress who had never left her hometown. “You’ll get on a train and go to the next city or town and you’ll… maybe you won’t come back. There’s not much here to catch the interest of someone who can go anywhere he wants to.”

Ryan’s dark brown eyes moved over you carefully. You’d looked up the colors the night before because you wanted to know what color his eyes were. They almost looked black, a color you had become more than accustomed to.

They were brown. Dark, dark brown.

He reached out one hand to cover yours. You stared down at the tattoos on his fingers until his other hand tilted your face up.

“I’ve been traveling around the country because I never felt like I had a home. Didn’t think I’d ever meet my soulmate and I’d live in a black and white world. Why would I leave when I have you here?” Before you could reiterate that your town was small, he shook his head and squeezed your hand. “Wherever we are? That’s the most interesting place in the world to me.”

You felt warmth flood you at his words and the sincerity in his voice. You eased your head down to his shoulder and closed your eyes. 

------

The bedroom was dark. At night, with barely any light filtering in through your curtains, your room reminded you of the time before you met Ryan. Black, white, shades of grey; nothing was distinguishable in the night.

Except now you knew that your bedding was yellow and violet, your walls were cream, the painting on the wall showed dozens of colors that could be found in a forest. You knew that the guitar case that was propped up in the chair in the corner had stickers on it, each one more colorful than the last.

You rolled over to face Ryan. His eyes were closed, his chest moving up and down with his slow breaths. It had been two months since you’d seen the rainbow. It seemed that he had meant it when he said that he wasn’t going to go anywhere else. He did odd jobs around town to afford a room in the one motel that only had five rooms available. 

These days he stayed the night with you more often than not. You were starting to think he might as well stop renting the room at the motel and just move in.

His tattoos drew your eyes. There wasn’t any color on most of them, black ink only. You had traced your fingers over most of them plenty of times already, learned the curves and lines of them so that you could probably draw them with your eyes closed. 

“You should be asleep,” he said as he rolled over and draped his arm over your waist, tugging you in close to him. “It’s late. You’ve got a shift tomorrow.”

You snuggled into his side, your hand over his chest. The skin under your hand was warm to the touch. 

“I want to travel with you,” you said quietly, earning a surprised noise from him. “I’ve never left this zip code for more than a day trip. I’m not saying we have to go around the country, but let’s at least go away for a long weekend.”

Ryan’s eyes opened as he curled you in closer to him. Your faces were a few inches apart. He stared at you for a long moment in which the silence stretched on for what seemed like forever.

“If you wanna travel around the country together, I’m not going to say no. I just don’t want you to do it because it’s what you think I want.”

You propped your head up on your hand as you looked down at Ryan. He looked so good like this, his dark hair falling over his forehead and his face relaxed, sleep still tugging at him.

“There’s so much to see,” you said quietly into the dark of the room, “and I want to see it with you.”

After another long silent moment, Ryan tugged you in for a kiss.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get a car, pack some bags, and go explore.” He rolled the two of you over so that he could curl himself around you. “Wherever you are, that’s home to me.”

You closed your eyes and let your body relax. It would take some planning, but you knew it would be worth it. The world was full of colors and you wanted to see every one of them with Ryan at your side.

X

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List @hermioneshandbag​ @onebatch--twobatch​ @smiley-celine​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @starless-skyox​ @youveseen--thebutcher​ @citation-is-here​ @mightymelly​ @realduckvader​ @1550kilogramsofsilver​ @hxbbit​ @rockintensse​ @missphanosaur18​ @thepuffyeyedpuff​ @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw​ @yessy2012​ @gingerstarlight​ @siriusement​ @marauderskeeper​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @wickidlady​ @sassygirl25​ @maraudereestauderelb​ @cutie-bug​ @random-quartz​ @holamor​ @lea----b​ @heyitslexy​ @detectivebourbon​ @coffeenmoscato​ @presstocontinue​ @elisemockingbird​ @assbuttwithwings​ @geeksareunique​ @witch-of-letters​ @delicatelilyflower​ @l-l-c-m-w-b​ @whovianayesha​ @hiddenprincess​ @yannii04​ @brighteststarinthesky​ @kilyra​ @gallxntdean​ @sweetvengeancee​ @lady1505​ @thedarklightwithinus​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @siriuslyimmoony​ @elodieyung​ @fudgeflyss​ @madamrogers​ @thatwrestlingfan91​ @teranya​ @sophiabulbu69​ @delusionsofnostalgia​ @effielumiere​ @mamaraptor​ @hot-and-spiceyyy​ @i-padfootblack-things​ @aya-fay​ @starkrobb​ @raquelbc2003​ @iwishyoucouldbekissed​ @taman-a​ @newtstarmander​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @blushingskywalker​ @queencocoakimmie​ @funerals-with-cake​ @love-dria​ @arrowswithwifi​ @swiftyhowlz​ @cheyfleur​ @dark-night-sky-99​ @celestegolden​ @king4thesirens​ @beautifuldesastre​ @ashkuuuu​ @luminex3​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @iblogabout-stuff​ @curlyhairedblueeyedangel​ @myplaceofheavenorhell​ @nea90sweetie​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @lexxierave​ @binbons-is-theloml​ @lostinthoughts23​ @aikeia​ @christinawxxx​ @rhabakoli​ @leathergreygoddess @j-finco​ @sweetybuzz25​ @supernaturalonice​ @jeanettexkillian​ @jigsawlover10​ @gollyderek​ @polireader​ @cafeconsoya @rainyboul @siriuslovesmarlene @kryyta @russosprettydiamondnow @dorkybryan @mahalobro @yesixoxo @fcavalerro @jeaolusy @margot-black  

Let me know if you want to be added to my Ryan Brenner Tag List @piink-magnolias​ @musingsofbanana​ @figlia--della--luna @ethereal-heavcns @colddecember-night​ @ladyblablabla​

[ofstarsandvibranium]

@suchatinyinfinity is a poetic writer who weighs each word she uses in search of balance between plot, imagery, symbolism and character traits, and she does so beautifully. I started with her Ryan Brenner series A Familiar Face, but quickly devoured her entire masterlist.

@suchatinyinfinity FIC CAPSIZE FOR MY 2ND MYSTERIOUS WRITING CHALLENGE GAVE ME SO MANY FEELINGS IN SUCH A SHORT STORY. IN A GOOD WAY.

[beavercovehq]

JOHNNIE TANAKA was born on the 19TH OF JANUARY in the year 1996. They work as a REPORTER FOR THE COVE CHRONICLES. JOHNNIE’s pronouns are HE/HIM. fc: ryan potter { played by tommy, 23, they/them, pst }

HEADCANONS

He grew up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, with two parents who got married too young and too immature to deal with each other. Now that he thinks of it, divorce was the most mature thing either of them did. Mr. Tanaka was avoidant and careful with his work. Ms. ‘nee Brenner constantly looked for distractions and excuses to keep secrets. After their divorce, they both tried to change. Cue the attempts of parenting from Ms. Brenner and random road trips from Mr. Tanaka. It was very confusing.

He’s had one solid girlfriend in college, and he found her to be clingy and emotionally confusing. Naturally, he broke it off with her near the end of college. He tried to make his way in New York City, but he found the whole place too big and complicated, and he got weirdly homesick. In that fit of homesickness, he reconnected with his ex. That was a mistake.

He learned quickly that the way to make it as a reporter is to start in a small town. So, he picked Beaver’s Cove. Small enough for him to actually take a slot in the local newspaper, but interesting enough that his portfolio won’t be comprised of totally boring stories.

He has a penchant for developing half-hearted connections and one-night stands, and he finds that he can get bored pretty easily. That’s half the reason half the town girls’ numbers are in his mental Rolodex. When he’s not engaging himself in that type of hobby, he takes an interest in the music scene and local city politics.

How does your character feel about the drownings? Do they think it’s accidental thing or a conspiracy? Please explain position.

He thinks it’s a very bizarre coincidence. But… sometimes he wonders if the second drowning was someone else’s attempt to mimic the first, and the third drowning is someone new trying to mimic the second.

But that’s just a running theory. He’s not sure if he, a newbie reporter, can really pin down the truth.

What was your character’s childhood like? Are they close with their family? Are they estranged? Do they have siblings? Are they adopted? Do they have a found family? Tell us about who they call family.

His parents are divorced, and he’s an only child. His mother had a tendency to carry out short term affairs that she forced Johnnie to hide, and his father tended to throw himself into his work – his professorial work.

His tendency to want those that understood his situation made him “adopt” siblings, so to speak. Other only children, those who grew up in foster homes, other kids with divorced parents… those are people he considers his “siblings.” Or so-called cousins, at the very least.

What is the first thing someone notices about your character?

He looks a little bit aloof, but perks up immediately the second you get his attention. And, as he gets comfortable, he takes on a cool, relaxed demeanor more befitting a surfer guy than one of a reporter in a town famous for its drowning.

But even that’s a mask.

[suchatinyinfinity]

Hi lovely!! For the fanfic asks:

📥🖊🌝💖

Hi, you absolute gem! First of all, thanks for considering me a fanfic writer even though my posts are so few and far between! And secondly, thank you for sending these in!

📥: What is your favorite fic to receive comments/messages on?

Even if it’s not necessarily my favorite, I always appreciate all comments (no matter the fic!) I get on A Familiar Face. It was my first foray into writing for Ryan Brenner and doing so made me fall in love with the character even more. It’s a very special story to me.

🖊: Post a snippet from a current WIP:

What is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I have written for this character, but once is not enough— and that character is Logan Delos.

💖: What do you like most about your own writing?

I take a lot of pride in painting pictures with words, or even better, transporting the reader into a different time or place. That’a the thing I love the most about reading— forgetting everything around you because you’re so immersed— and I strive to emulate that in every piece I wrote.