#inside her fantasy

[georgiapeach30513]

Inside Her Fantasy, Part 4

Summary: so you could take it off

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (F receiving), PIV sex, cream pie, mentions of videoing, mentions of phone sex, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.9K

*dividers created by @saradika-graphics

Previous

Series Masterlist

Willow drops a magazine on the table in front of you, but you push it away without laying down your Kindle. She lays another one down, and you scoot it aside as well. Annoying. This is your daily reading hour, and she’s interrupting. Another, and you glare up at her, and she drops a stack full down on the first three.

Removing your eyes from her, you look down to the magazine on top, and quirk up a smile. God, Ransom looked so good in that car. He felt so good driving away from the game with his hand tightly on your thigh. You couldn’t see much from the pictures, but apparently that little Beamer is synonymous with your boyfriend.

“You went to a game,” that much is obvious. You’d think by the way the gossip rags were talking you discovered a cure for an incurable disease. You play coy, shrugging, and pick up the magazine, flipping to the big gossip in question. Who knew that going out with your boyfriend after he played a winning game could be so scandalous. Deserving of all these front pages? If only they knew you and Ransom would rather be in Bucky and Sarge’s backyard with the kids.

“You went to a game, and walked into the locker room,” you sure did. Had a few bodyguards with you. You made them follow you, while you and Ransom drove around for a while just the two of you with stolen kisses at every red light. Ending with a dinner at the Patriots’ favorite restaurant, and they had it rented out. Completely private.

You and Ransom had danced to the music. He showed you off to his teammates. He swayed you back and forth while you watched Bucky playing pool. He even taught you how to play pool. He mostly enjoyed leaning over you, whispering in your ear, and so did you. It was the most low key thing you’ve done in years, and it was one of your favorite nights.

Each day with Ransom shows you not just how much you’ve fallen for him, but how much you are completely in love with him. It was loud, obnoxious, raucous, and you could barely hear anything but music and laughter. But whenever Ransom said, ‘Bud,’ everything fades away, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. Only his voice could be heard.

His voice rings above everything else in your life. You love what you do, you adore performing for your fans, but life currently felt dull if Ransom wasn’t in the moment with you. And when he’s around — it sounds ridiculous but it’s like there’s a brightness, and a glow.

Willow clears her throat, and you look up at her sweetly, “You have to tell me these things, so I know how to get in front of it. That is my job.”

“What is there to get in front of?” Normally you trust Willow. But whatever is in these magazines didn’t seem like a big deal. Looking through another you see that someone’s Instagram story was used to show you and Ransom in a world of your own. His hand is dangerously low on your back, so low his fingers touch your ass. He’s pulling you so tight against his chest, and you are beaming up at him. You wish this was a clearer photo.

“If you’re going to do a,” she sighs, looking away from you before blurting out, “A showmance, then I need to know.”

You tear the page of the girl’s instagram post out, and balk up at Willow. Did she really say what you think she did? How could she not know what is happening between you and Ransom? It is so pure and amazing, and she cheapened it with one word. “This is not a showmance!”

“You’ve literally just met the guy, and you’re wandering around after a football game acting like you’re in high school,” she seriously didn’t know you. Just met him? You’ve been hanging out with him. You have stayed behind the scenes. She knows this about you! But something innocent as high school sounds like a breath of fresh air.

“Maybe that’s what I need in my life! Everything has been so calculated for the past few years. Launching the biggest tour of my career. But I — I love him,” Willows eyes burst wide as she stares at you. You didn’t say that easily, despite what some people state as facts. “I haven’t just met him. I met him after the concert, the one I invited him to? And I’ve talked to him everyday since then. I’ve made every down time be about spending time with him. I love him.”

Damn, that feels amazing to say. You love him. You love Ransom Drysdale. You are in love with Ransom Drysdale. Ransom is the one.

Willow takes a deep breath, sighing as she stares at you, “You’re taking him to Rhode Island, aren’t you?” You shrug. You hadn’t even thought about it. Rhode Island is your sanctuary. Only the most special people in your life got to venture there. Of course it makes sense to take Ransom. Show him your oasis. The most private location you have. Total privacy. For the most part. As private as you can get.

“I know you. And you deserve happiness, too,” you did. And it is Ransom. You didn’t care about how many people wanted to pry into your life anymore. He is in your life. You want him in it. You want to share your love with the world. A bit of it anyways. You want them to see who is making you this happy. See who you want to spend the rest of your life with. That’s scary to think about, but you’re in love. Possibly never been in love like this before, but still, in love.

“You’ve got a couple weeks off. Spend it with people you really care about,” Willow spins on her heel, leaving you with bubbling thoughts. It seems ridiculous to plan sex, but you’re ready. More ready than ever, and you’re glad that you and Ransom have waited. Extra happy that Ransom never once pressured you. You’re pretty sure he’s enjoyed the ride just as much. And no sex doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.

You expel a breath, already getting excited for the next stop on the tour, if only for it to end so you can have a mini break. You’ll spend every moment basking in Ransom, or he in you. You want to spoil him with affection and all the attention. Buy a new dress just for the occasion. A soft melody sticks into your brain, and you record yourself humming. The words aren’t quite there yet.

Whatever lyrics come later, you know they’re Ransom. All about him. Maybe you had to have those extra domestic moments with him to understand what string of words need to be there. It didn’t matter. It is Ransom’s song. Your ode to him.

You hum that diddy again, stroking down your guitar, and still no words come out. Your eyes look out at the horizon, trying to focus on anything but how difficult this stupid ass song is being. Listening to the seagulls squawk as the waves crash onto the rocks. It’s a peacefulness that you cannot get enough of. Letting the world lead you to lyrics.

You strum a chord, and smile as a line comes to your mind. Reaching to your phone you press record, and hum and write lyrics as they happen. Yours and Ransom’s love story spilling out with your voice. He’d be here soon, but you wish he was with you right now. Hearing you sing the story of him. You could write an entire album about just him. He was that amazing.

You pause a moment, and take a deep salty breath. Inhaling a world separate from whatever roaring noise is going on out there. A place to reset, and a place you didn’t share with anyone, but your mom. You hum again as his feet crunch in the pebbles. Hearing every step he takes before seating himself behind you, and his arms rest softly on your thighs.

“Bud, it’s beautiful out here,” he softly kisses on your shoulder, and you tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck. He takes the offer, and kisses almost too gently over your skin. his warm breath brushes across your skin, and sends lust pooling in your core, “How much time do you have off?”

Ransom has been chomping at the bit to mark your skin. “I have a two weeks,” he nips at the sensitive column, and you attempt to strum your guitar. Weakly sighing a few words before you stop. How can you concentrate with his sinful mouth biting over your skin?

“Keep singing,” he teases, nibbling a bit harder, and sucks a bruise on your skin.

“I can’t,” you whimper. Your legs start to spread on their own accord, and the wind blows up your new dress that you bought just for today. Just for him, “Ran,” his eyes flutter close at your voice. “Ransom,” you start again as his ministrations slow.

Singing out a few lines breathlessly, he gulps. His giant hands rub on your thighs, and you sing the line, “I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” and he pauses completely. Freezing in his spot, and you sing it again, adding sighs at the end of the line that make perfect sense for the song.

“Are you recording” you nod as an answer. Leaning back into his broad chest, and feeling his cock throb against you. He’s been so stoic during this, and this is about to go too far. Or not far enough. A hand slides from your thigh, under the new dress, and up your body. Stopping at the apex of your thigh, “Keep it on,” he whispers on your skin while his hand cups your covered mound.

Lightning flashes in your mind at the contact, and you desperately roll your hips. Your body pleading for friction while he softly kisses over your shoulders. Up your neck, and behind your ear, kissing over the shell, “What sounds will you make when I enter inside of you?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. You didn’t. This moment is beyond pleasure. It’s taking your relationship to a place you’ve never been. It’s giving yourself to him, “We can keep recording it,” you tease him, and he growls behind your ear. Giving your lobe a little bite.

“Just the sound?”

“Whatever you want,” throwing everything out the window. All your safeguards that you put up around you. Because you know deep down Ransom would never do anything to hurt you, or to make you lose your trust in him. Both of you traveled for your job, you had to have some way to connect you when you are worlds apart.

“Why are you promising me this?” He whispers against your body.

“Because I — I trust you,” chickenshit. You should have been honest with him. You already told him you didn’t have sex with someone unless you knew you loved them.

“I love you, too,” your half lidded eyes, shoot fully open. Looking out at the water again, but wishing you could look behind you better. Twisting your head, you look at him the best you can, and he’s got a boyish grin on his face. “That’s what you were meaning to say, right?”

“Yes.”

“Does it make it easier to say, since I kinda said it first? But, I added a too, so really you said it first. And I think you’re in love with me. I think you are madly in love with me,” a smile spreads across your face as you nod at him. “And I’m hopelessly in love with you, too.”

“I love you, Ran.”

“Yep,” he groans, scooting away from you. He stands up awkwardly, and your eyes lock onto the aching bulge in his pants. “Unless you want me to discover your body on these rocks, where anyone could maybe have a drone or long range camera, we should go inside.”

“Yeah,” you let out the longest breath of air, standing with the guitar, and your phone. “We should — should go inside.”

“Turn off the recording,” you look at him a bit confused. He just said, “Our first time making love is just for us. But I’m not leaving the bed, the couch, the table, the counter, the bathroom, the theater, the pool, the stairs, the…”

“I get it,” you giggle again, stopping the recording on your phone.

“I’m going to have every part of you, in every part of this house,” you hope that this is a promise because there’s nothing you have wanted more than him. All of him, and everywhere. He holds out a hand to take your own, but instead, he slides up your dress enough to pick you up. Placing your legs around his slim waist as he carries you towards the house.

“I can walk,” you giggle, staring up at him in awe. Noticing every fleck of gold and green in his eyes. He only shakes his head no. His steps are steady. He seems to be counting them, and struggling to keep his eyes off you. You’ve never wanted anything more than him, and you’ve thought you’d been in love before, but this time is different.

And not in a way that everyone says that this time is different. Different in a way that puts all the other times to shame. You knew as you were falling for them that it ultimately wouldn’t last. Some things you just know deep into your bones. You made things work before because you love love. But with Ransom, you feel him. That invisible string that was leading you to him had wound itself so tightly around the two of you. It is holding you two in place because it’s where you’re meant to be.

You could give up your career if it only meant spending more time with him. Building a life and family with him. It all made sense. You see it unfolding in front of your eyes. He sets you down on the living room floor, and starts a weird hum. It’s off key, but it’s the very song you were just attempting to sing to him. He was actually paying attention to you. Humming, and spinning you around in the middle of the living room like it is the most natural thing to do. Simple, and meaning so much to you.

You join in with his humming, mumbling a few of the lyrics in with his off key sound. Knowing that this is your home. Not this house, but him. You smile as you gaze up at him. Basking in the innocent part of love. It really is so high school. Love should be fun. It should be several things, but this is the most blissful you’ve been with love. Not in an overly goofy way, but a way that is just — Ransom and you.

You smirk as you spin away from him. Starting to walk towards the hallway. You’re the one taking calculated steps as you head towards the bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, and you spin to look at him, “I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” most men would rip the dress off your body, but Ransom’s hands slide behind your back, and he pulls the ribbon, letting it drift to your sides. Loosening up the dress, and he pulls each strap gently off your shoulders.

It dips lower, revealing your lack of a bra. Ransom’s Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. And with one shimmy of your hips, the dress drifts to the floor. Piling down at your feet, and you look up at him through your lashes. They don’t make men that look like Ransom. All man. Thick enough to crush you if he wanted to. Towering over you, and yet he is still the biggest teddy bear you know.

His arm props up against the doorframe, eyes wandering down your body, “I think I’m a bit overdressed,” taking a deep breath, you reach for his jeans first. Undoing the button before you pull at the hem of his shirt. Tugging it up his body, and he finishes removing it. You press both hands on his chest, smiling when you feel his rapid heart beat.

“Don’t tell anybody, but there’s very few things that make me weak.”

“And what makes you weak?” Leaning forward, Ransom wraps his arms around your legs, just below your ass, and he hauls you out of the floor. Walking you to the bed, where he tosses you on top. He steps out of his shoes, and pulls only his jeans down before crawling into the bed. Immediately leaning over your body, and capturing your lips.

His weight, and bare chest press up against your own, and you pull him as tight to you as possible. Fingernails scraping up and down his back, while his hand roams down your body. His fingers tease the elastic on your panties, while he sweetly nips over your mouth, “Ran, what are you thinking?”

“How much I love you, and even though I don’t deserve you, I don’t want to fight this. I can’t,” you caress his cheek, leaning up to give him chaste kisses. He’s beautiful. You didn’t throw that word around often with men, but he is. “What are you thinking?”

“That I’ve never loved anyone like you before,” his mouth cocks into a grin. “And you’re killing me here,” instead of going under the elastic like you need, he cups your covered mound, and you whimper at him. “Ran — please?”

There’s something in the whine of your voice, coupled with the sweetest pout from your face. You said please. Softly and weakly begging for him, and he pushes aside your panties, and runs his fingers through your slit. Gaping open his mouth as he watches you face fill with pleasure, “You’re soaked,” you know. You’re heated, and drowning in your own arousal at this point.

“Is this all for me?”

“No, there’s so much more,” you bite on your lip when he finds your bundle of nerves. Giving it a few teasing touches before he dips down between your lips, and toys with your entrance. “Keep going,” you goad him, and he pushes two fingers into your warmth, and euphoria rushes through your blood. Arching your back as you struggle to breathe.

“Shh,” he whispers. His own mouth going agape at the feeling of your velvety walls. “I need you to breathe for me, Bud.”

“I’ve never…I’ve never felt like this,” your chest heaves as you take in too short of breaths. “What are you doing?”

“Exploring you,” he presses an innocent kiss to your lips, “Learning you,” his motions are as slow as flowing honey. Working his drenched fingers in and out of you while he places open mouth kisses over your heated skin. Sucking and nipping over your body. Exploring every inch. His mouth travels lower, and he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Rolling his tongue around the pebbled peak before venturing to the over one.

He pulls off your body with a pop, and sinks lower. Lower. Grazing his lips over your belly button before trailing kisses on down. Ghosting over your panties before he stares at your body swallowing his fingers, and he presses the most gentle sweet kiss over your clit. “Every part of you is beautiful, Bud. Every inch of you is a work of art, and I can’t get enough.”

Men could say words like this frequently, but Ransom never did. He never went past sex with women. He was a player, and had long believed that love could ever happen to him. Until you. You changed everything. You made him not only believe love could happen, you showed him. You made him realize that football isn’t everything. You made him want more than the life he’d been living.

His tongue licks gently up your body. He moans at the taste of your honey. Smiling when you peer down at him, looking every bit as innocent as you are, “I just want to saturate you in pleasure,” he whispers before his lips circle around your swollen nub, and you mewl, lifting your back off the mattress.

His fingers drive into your heat in tandem with his mouth. Perfect rhythm that has your toes curling, and your body lifting off the mattress. The lyrics to Ransom are long gone, and all you can see is bright blinding light. The pleasure is nearly too much, and maybe if you were thinking about it, you’d know this man has had ample amounts of practice. But they didn’t matter anymore. his past is gone, and only his present remains. And that’s you.

All that matters now is Ransom humping the mattress with the same flow as his fingers and mouth. Desperately working himself up by your whimpers and movement. You grip tightly to your nipples, and roll them between your forefinger and thumb. So much stimulation that it makes you dizzy. It makes you yearn for more than his fingers. You want to become one with him. You want all of him. You need him.

You’ve never wanted anything more. You may be blinded by the pleasure that he pushes into your body, but you still know that the beautiful man making you feel this way is the man that you’ll marry, have children with, and spend the rest of your life with. Your career and his career be damned. You can take care of the two of you. You’re obsessed and you know it.

“Ransom!” His name leaks out of your mouth as fire courses through you. Everything inside of you is molten lava. So much heat. “Ran — Ransom!” You cannot help but scream out his name because you can’t think of anything else. Nothing else matters. Just Ransom. Just him.

Dropping your tits, you grip tightly to his hair. Tugging right at the roots as your body floats off the bed, and you clench your eyes closed. “Ransom!” Your mouth falls open as the most beautiful high ignites you, and your body heaves as you sit up, and stare at the devil between your thighs. Licking, and smacking his lips as he cleans you with his tongue.

“I need you inside of me,” reaching up, he rips apart your panties, and tosses them onto the floor before he rips his own off, and knees himself onto the bed. His wide berth keeps you spread, opening up wider to accommodate his size, and Ransom sinks lower to the bed. Hovering over your body, while he runs his cock through your velvety folds, and you gaze up at him.

“I need you inside of me now,” you plead, and he presses his length up against you. Gasping, you look between your bodies. The tiniest gap separates you, but you witness him right at your entrance. “Ran,” smirking, he pushes through your walls, and you bite on your lip. Whimpering. Tugging. Scratching. Pulling. Wrapping your legs around him.

He doesn’t stop his descent in you until he’s filled you to the brim with him, and you gaze up at him. It was right. That string has wrapped itself so tight around you and Ransom that you can’t even think straight. Can’t see. Nothing else in this world matters except Ransom. You’re glad you waited, but now you’re going to get to enjoy him in so many more ways.

He whispers your name as he kisses around your hairline. So soft and gentle as he makes his way around the perimeter, before he absorbs this moment. Tucking it into his mind on days that he’s going to have to be away from you. And remembering every bit of you. The slight arch, and furrowing of your brow as your cunt stretches to take all of him. The way he can feel your heartbeat pulsing deeply. Your scent, and how it flared to life when he entered you.

He has had doubts about love and soulmates for so long, but he can’t deny the way he feels as he’s seated inside of you. Everything becomes more clear right at this moment. This is the best he’s ever felt for various reasons. But the main one being how much he is utterly destroyed by you.

He could say it over and over again, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He could shout it, he could carve it into his skin, and it still wouldn’t be enough. This is what true love feels like. What he thought was never for him. It is. It’s all for him, right here in his arms. He doesn’t want to go fast. He barely wants to leave your warmth as he pumps into you. There will be other times he can rail you.

No, now, he just wants to take his time and memorize every part of your body. Wants to learn your spots, and the things that truly drive you insane. Know all your secrets that you keep hidden. He wants to integrate himself into your body, so when he’s not there you crave him. And he never ever wants to stop kissing you.

If he’s not swallowing your whimpers, he’s peppering kisses all across your shoulders. Over your collarbone, up your neck, but your favorite; behind your ear. Blowing heated breaths over your skin, and watching goosebumps flood over your body. You cling to him like your life depends on it, and he feels his life truly does depend on your touch. Addicting. You are his favorite drug, and he never wants to detox.

Drawing himself up and pulling all the way out, so he can see your sweet pitiful face. It’s like the pleasure has reached such a peak that you are wordless. Thankfully you’re still breathing, but the function to talk doesn’t seem to be there, “Bud, honey, you okay?”

You stare up at him, gulping, trying to get words to come out of your dry mouth, but it just comes out as a choked, “Uh huh,” gazing up at him like the work of art he is, and then something lights up in your body, and your brows tilt up.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you about to come?” There is no way this man is making you come going this slow. But you don’t want him to change his pace. You want him just. Like. This. “There you go. You think we can come together,” his voice is so soft and pretty as he kisses on the edges of your lips. “Hold on, for me?”

You nod your head, biting on your lip as he stabs into you. Vision going blurry with the faster speed, and your toes curl with the most blinding pleasure. His hips pound onto your body with so much force if he wasn’t holding you, your body would be bounced up the bed by his sheer force alone. Everything in your body tightens. Everything pulses.

And then you hear his own moans. Here the way he’s reacting to the pleasure, and it becomes so much sweeter. His athletic body and training gives him the best stamina. My god, do you thank him for his training. “Fuck,” he putters out, gritting his teeth as he barrels into you. “Fuck. Fuck Fuckfuckfuckfuck!”

“Ran, baby, just let go,” you coo softly at him, and his own brows pitch up, and you grip his round ass. “Ran! Ransom!”

“Don’t take your eyes off me. Keep looking at me,” that is a task as you hang on for dear life. Your body sets on fire as the impending high shoots to your limbs. All the way to your fingers and your toes. Your cunt squeezes him so tightly, he stops his movements. Just when you think he’s gone back on his goal of coming with you, his eyes blow wide, and he whimpers out your name.

He spurts his seed deep into your cunt, while you stare up at him. He looks so much younger after his release, and you want to curl yourself around him, and hold him tightly. He needs protection after making himself be that vulnerable. “I’ve never done that,” he breathlessly says. You are not sure which that he’s referring to, and you don’t know if you want to know.

”Unprotected sex. I mean I’ve…”

“Ransom, no,” you shake your head. You know the man is well seasoned, but you didn’t want to hear about it. “I don’t want to know.”

“Okay. That’s fair.”

You take a deep breath, and brush his fallen hair out of his face. He needs protection from you in a different way. And you would. “Are you going to write songs about this?”

“I don’t know. Do you think it’ll be too invasive?”

“Can I have approval first?” Your mouth quirks to the side, and you give him a nod. “Then okay. I trust you. Now about filming us?”

“Well,” you giggle, he’s so beautiful, “We’re both on the road a lot. And I’d rather you not be watching porn, unless it’s us. I’m okay with phone sex, FaceTime, and stuff like that. But sometimes I may be in a completely different time zone.”

“So we’ll make our own porn,” he says with a smile. He begrudgingly pulls himself out of you, and lands flat on his back. “I can get used to that,” you could, too. Whatever it takes to keep you together.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kcd15 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @magnificentsaladllama @lokislady82

@rogersbarber

[ziggyevenstar]

finished the girl who fell beneath the sea by axie oh and compared to her xoxo book, this is significantly better. it was such a cute read. fantasy is definitely her genre and i’m her demographic. when shin said “i killed the assassin. i dragged him through the streets. he was begging for me to spare his life. he was in terrible agony. yet he hurt you, and for that, i knew no pain would be too great. “ i mean… i fell in love. anakin moment right there

[ziggyevenstar]

I absolutely hated the first book. Then I started reading the second book and being back in Belly’s mind really felt like a hug. She says and does things I 100% would not because they’re so immature but that’s exactly what she is— not mature; a teenager. To read the books is to be in the mind of a lovesick teenager. She’s happy, she’s selfish, she thinks the world revolves around her and all the guys are in love with her. She’s a teenager. I don’t know why I was strictly expecting her to make good life decisions. Still can’t say I didn’t roll my eyes so hard reading this series

Being back in Belly’s mind feels like a hug. Like without a doubt, Belly’s mind is a teenage girls mind. It’s rivals my own with the sentiments of her trying to memorize each little thing. Her always reminiscing on the little moments, the ones that stick with you for a lifetime. She’s very dramatic, the way a teenage girl is. She listens to Taylor swift (which obviously stuck with me). She’s a teenage girl in the sense she thinks with her emotions and her heart. She has a shitty friend (Taylor) and that’s normal! The way she experiences grief is unbelievable. She’s exactly what I remember and I love this book series for that

[breakbleheavens]

TAYLOR SWIFT and AARON DESSNER perform RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME for the first time ▸ The Eras Tour — Santa Clara, California (Night 1) | July 28, 2023

[tampire]

Seymour's Win / Seymour's Loss

[oceanwithouthermoon]

Y'all will call anything misogyny 💀 Teruhashi is a bitch and it's not "misogynistic" to write her that way

have u ever seen a male character be called a slut, bitch, whore, etc for having a crush on one of the female characters?? do you often see people say they want to slit his throat or beat him with a bat because hes so annoying for having a crush on her? have you ever read a lesbian ship fic where the male protagonist from the source material calls the two main girls the f slur, stomps his feet, and screams that the other girl is stealing his crush away, because hes so jealous and apparently extremely openly homophobic ??? is he ever made into a literal villain, with every bit of his actual personality disregarded in favor of keeping him away from the girl? and then the fic ends with everyone in the vicinity realizing he was just a bitch all along, his only value being his looks, everyone giggles at him, and he gets shunned and is now universally hated?

☠️☠️ its funny to me that a lot of u actually just dont know what misogyny is, YOU ONLY TALK THAT WAY ABOUT WOMEN !! WHY DO U THINK THAT IS ??

its also funny how i didnt say anything about "writing her as a bitch," i JUST said i dont like when misogynists write her and you got offended cuz you knew i clocked you LMFAOSKKSKA

[smolandweirdwriter]

adaine abernant is a fascinating character in that she both defies and plays into her character archetype

she's an abused, anxious, bookish kid from a wealthy family, but unlike the traditional way her character arc might go, she is violently aware from the very start that the way her parents are treating her is toxic. she's not nervous or afraid to stand up to them, and her arc isn't about realizing that they don't truly love her. her arc is about realizing that them not loving her doesn't make her unworthy of being loved.

and, i don't know, i guess i think there's something beautiful about that.

[manglam-marfach]

dyke!Chilaios has me understanding breeding kink all of a sudden

[tacroyy]

LMAO YELLING!!! this is from diana wynne jones to her editor—

Dear Miriam, I have been on the phone to Terry Pratchett who sent me a rough draft of a story which is going to be very good, but he is very anxious to know at what stage in the process he actually gets the money.

[tovaicas]

↳ ꜰꜰxɪᴠ — ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ + ᴅʀᴀʜᴍ ᴋᴏʜʀ

ᴅʀᴀʜᴍ ᴋᴏʜʀ (ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴇᴄʜᴏ) ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴠᴀɴɪᴀɴ ᴡʏᴠᴇʀɴ ᴏꜰ ɴɪᴅʜᴏɢɢ'ꜱ ʙʀᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴠᴀɴɪᴀɴ ʜᴏʀᴅᴇ, ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴏɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀɪᴅᴇʀ ʀᴏᴜᴠᴀꜱᴛʀᴇ ᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴜᴠᴇᴄʜɪᴇʀ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴꜱᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʀ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢʟʏ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴜɢᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴏꜱᴋʜ ꜱᴛʀᴀʜ, ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏᴏɴ ��ʙɪʟɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴀɪᴛʜ. ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀᴀʟ ᴀꜱ ᴀɪʀ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅᴏᴍᴀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜰᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ꜱʜɪɴʀʏᴜ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟᴀ ᴍʜɪɢᴏ, ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴇʀɪᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴄᴜᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛꜱ ʜɪᴇɴ ʀɪᴊɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʟʏꜱᴇ ʜᴇxᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜɪᴍʟʏᴛ ᴅᴀʀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜰᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ʟᴜɴᴀʀ ʙᴀʜᴀᴍᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴇʟᴏᴘʜᴇʀᴏɪ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛɪᴀᴍᴀᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜱꜱᴀᴜʟᴛ ᴏɴ ᴢᴏʟᴍ'ᴀᴋ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜᴘᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴇʀɪᴀʟ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴɴᴀɪꜱꜱᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴏʀᴢᴇᴀɴ ᴀʟʟɪᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀʟᴇᴍᴀʟᴅ ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛʟʏ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴇꜱᴛɪɴɪᴇɴ ᴠᴀʀʟɪɴᴇᴀᴜ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴀʟᴅᴇɴᴀʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀʀʟᴇᴍᴀʟᴅ ʙʏ ᴀɪʀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜰɪʟᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɢᴀʀʟᴇᴍᴀʟᴅ. ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀ ᴛʜᴜʟᴇ, ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ᴡʏᴠᴇʀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀɴᴇᴜᴠᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟʏ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴀ ʀɪᴅᴇʀ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.

[georgiapeach30513]

Inside Her Fantasy, Part 1

Summary: Ransom was a sweet playboy, and you are America's sweetheart. Two opposite people that met in an unlikely way. Things move fast when you're in the spotlight, and you fell more everyday. He was happy he had someone who he could trust with his vulnerable side. You were happy to have someone who could stand tall and not be irritated by your own fame. Fast love and living in a fish bowl isn't always easy. But can you and Ransom beat the odds?

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: fluff

Warnings:  none, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.5K

Series Masterlist

*Dividers created by @saradika-graphics

Early morning muffled giggles, and the pitter patter of feet make Ransom stir in his sleep. His face burrows deeper into the pastel pink ruffles. Feet hanging off the edge of the bed, but his eyes remain close.

“Daddy,” a giggly voice echoes in the hallway as she covers her mouth with her hand. “Uncle Ranny is in my bed again.”

“Is he,” the big beefy man picks up his littlest daughter, throwing her in the air. “Why are you sitting in the hallway?”

“Because,” she points a finger to her bedroom before covering her mouth with her hand. “I think he has twinkle toes!”

“Not the twinkle toes! Why weren’t you in your bed last night?”

“Uhh,” she draws out, shrugging her shoulders. Usually she didn’t sleep in her room on nights before her parents had to go to the hospital. “I — daddy, I slept in Maevey’s room. And then I wake up to go play, and Uncle Ranny is drooling on my satin!”

“Oh, dear. Let’s wake Mr. Twinkle Toes up, okay?” She responds with an okay, nodding her head while he walks into the room. Ransom let’s out a loud snore, hugging onto one of the little girl’s Squishmallows, and she giggles again.

“Ransom,” her father says, but Ransom snores lower. “Ransom!” He kicks the bed, and Ransom shoots up immediately, groaning before flopping back down on the bed. “You’re drooling on the princess’ pillow.”

“Yeah! That’s my pillow. Why do you always sleep in my bed when you have twinkle toes.”

“I don’t have twinkle toes,” Ransom harrumphs, flipping over to his side. He hugs tighter to her stuffed animal, giving her a peek. “Why are you up so early?”

“You do have twinkle toes! You always drool with twinkle toes!”

“Charlie, baby, I,” he stops talking looking at his best friend and teammate before nodding his head, “Yes, princess, I had twinkle toes, and pranced right in here. I’m sorry, but I’ll buy you a new squishy thing,” Bucky clears his throat, and shakes his head. “I’ll buy you something.”

“Ahh! Daddy, I need to see Maevey. Put me down,” she wiggles out of her daddy’s arms before darting towards her sister’s room.

Bucky gives a long look to Ransom before leaning up against his daughter’s dresser. “Yeah, I had twinkle toes, which by the way, why does your wife call it that?”

“Next time we’ll tell the kids you got shit faced, and stumbled into our house because you used my kids as an excuse to call a cab for some girl of the night,” rolling his eyes, Ransom turns his back to Bucky. “You deserve more than one night stands. Ones you can look at without your beer goggles.”

“Not all of us are cut out to marry our highschool sweethearts.”

“You think it was easy for us?” Bucky sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She had Maeve when she was sixteen. Pregnant when she was fifteen, and yeah, we struggled and made it work. But you…”

“Grew up in a life of privilege. I didn’t buy my way into the NFL. I worked hard to get there,” Bucky sighs, watching his friend. It had become a frequent pattern with Ransom coming to his house to hide from his problems. The extra help with the kids was nice, but Ransom wasn’t living his life.

“Didn’t say you did. I’m saying those kids love you, and you adore them. You’re worth more than being a fake uncle,” yawning Ransom turns to look at Bucky with an unreadable face. There is zero emotions on his face as he looks at his friend. “There’s going to be some woman who the kids love, and she’s going to send you on a whirlwind. You two are going to fall so hard for each other.”

“Why are you in here, Buck?” He responds pitifully. Ransom was never much into love. It was a made up word that very few could ever hold in their hands. They made excuses and claimed they loved or were in love, but people always disappoint you.

“You’re in my house, and in my daughter’s bed. But Nixon has an appointment. We’re staying overnight, and the girls would rather…”

“You don't have to ask. I don’t want them with anyone else anyways. They’re the only women in my life that don’t make my life a living hell,” Charlie’s bedroom door squeaks open, and the little girl runs onto Ransom’s lap, while the oldest bashfully walks in. She looks at her dad before back at Ransom.

The tall man looks towards the teenager, narrowing his eyes, and pursing his lips. He’s seen this look more than once in his life. “What do you want, Maeve?”

“So, you know my favorite artist right?” Her voice is nearly a whisper. Almost embarrassed to ask Ransom this.

“Picasso?”

“No, recording artist,” she giggles, shaking her head. She whispers out your name, and looks back at her father quickly. “Umm, she’s playing Gillette tonight. Mom already said we could go, but…”

“Who is that?” Ransom asks, confused. “She…what do you mean she’s playing Gillette?”

“Well, she is the number one artist in the world right now. She’s doing this stadium tour, and she’s going to be here for a few days. I think the itinerary I got online is correct. I know you can’t always believe everything you see on the internet, but I really want to go. Charlie likes her, too,” her little sister nods her head, and whispers into Ransom’s ear about how pretty you are. “It would mean everything to me.”

“Maevey, if she’s as big as you say she is, I might not be able to get us in,” there was only one way he could get the girls in, and he really didn’t want to go down that road again.

“You’re literally the starting tight end of the Patriots,” Maeve wasn’t going to give up without a bit of a fight.

“Your dad is the quarterback.”

“And didn’t you date some…”

“Ahh! I didn’t date her! No, absolutely not,” Ransom decides quickly he isn’t going to ask his ex about tickets to one of the biggest concerts of the year. But then the littlest girl looks up at him, sweetly asking pretty please with a cherry on top, and he can’t say no.

You bite at your lip, getting a little slap on your wrist by your makeup artist. She hates when you ruin her work. Your lipstick was already on, and now she has to go back and fix it. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you hardly recognize that girl anymore. She’d been through hell recently. Bad breakups are never easy. Worse when the world can watch.

Sighing, you look towards the door. There is always something that bothers you about this talk show. She was invasive, and played up what the tabloids said. You couldn’t keep a man. You just date around to write songs. You were seeing just how many notches you could get. It was insulting.

You are sure you’re not the only woman in the world to date or date around. What you did just was viewed by the world. Growing up in front of the camera may not be ideal, but you didn’t know anything else. This life was all you knew. It gave you the world, while also taking away so much. You loved it, and feared it. You welcomed it, and also wished you could turn it off sometimes. There was never a break.

Someone knocks on the door, and whispers out your name, letting you know it was time to go on to the set of Leslie Locke. Your team always wanted you to put in a good face for this show. It was fun, and the fans enjoyed it, but too bad the press enjoyed your humiliation more.

You squint from the lights as you walk onto set, greeted halfway by Leslie when you take a seat in a chair opposite her. Her blue eyes give you a strange look, and you look out to the audience awkwardly. She was up to something. You just knew it, but what is the question?

“So you had a pretty rough start to the year,” you smile at her, and give her a nod. She was already starting in on you and your relationship. “But the good thing is I’m sure you got some good songs out of it, right?”

“I’d say most writers use their life experiences to tell a story. How is it any different than a writer of a book?” Leslie isn’t used to you snapping back. With age comes a need to protect your peace. Her mouth goes tight as she looks at the camera and then back at you.

“But aren’t authors embellishing the story?” With the breakup came a new realization that you had the power and voice. You didn’t need someone to protect you. You could do it yourself. “We all embellish. Even when I talk to my girlfriends, I’m embellishing the story.”

“So you admit that you use your songs to make yourself look better in the breakup?” She always twisted your words. It was her schtick. You smile, shaking your head no, but have no intentions of elaborating. It wasn’t worth the argument.

“Well, I want to play a game with you,” oh good grief. She loved these stupid games. “Since you’re back on the market, I thought it would be fun to show you some single men,” you turn to look towards one of the cameras with a deadpan look. “No, this will be fun. They’re hot men, just not your usual type.”

“Okay, fine,” you sigh, knowing that it would be easier just to agree.

“Good, good,” she holds up the first picture, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head rapidly. “What’s wrong with Dayton White?”

“I don’t date race car drivers.”

“You mean you haven’t, but you could?” This is a hard no. You wouldn’t date him. “Okay, what about this guy? Big, tall, buff, and he’s a boxer,” you wait a moment for her to give you a name. “This is August Walker.”

“I don’t like the mustache. I like mean without too much going on with their face. Clean cut, ya know?”

“Well, that leaves out these two. Okay, so he’s a football player,” you scrunch up your nose, already looking disgusted. Why would you date a football player? “He’s 6’5”, tight end for the New England Patriots,” not interested. “Blue eyes, all of 265 pounds of man, and a bit of a wild card,” your ears perk up because of course they do. You love those men that have that slight toxicity. They are your weakness. And you hate it.

“Completely baby faced, and he does love going out,” please be ugly. Please be ugly. “You have no idea who Ransom Drysdale is, huh?”

“Ransom?” She flips the card over showing you what he looks like, and you’re a goner. “Oh,” you stutter, trying to look away from his face. “Oh, he’s kinda cute,” the fact that he was holding a small little girl, while hugging another. It made him even more attractive, if his angelic face wasn’t enough.

“Kinda? That is one hell of a man,” yeah, he was. You can’t even imagine how big he would be next to you.

“He’s got kids?” They were adorable little girls. You didn’t think you wanted to date someone with kids, but he could be worth it. You had never dated someone with kids. No, it didn’t matter anyways. You weren’t going to date this man. You were going to look him up. Maybe check out a few pictures of him.

“No, these are his teammate Bucky Barnes’ daughters. He’s very close with the quarterback on the team,” sure he was. He didn’t have kids, that was better. You loved kids, but weren't ready for that. But him being good with kids is a good quality. “You have no idea what the QB does, huh?”

“He throws the ball? Catches it? Tackles?”

“Football isn’t your thing, I see,” she didn’t even answer the question. Fine, you made a public declaration of finding him attractive. Great. You can already see the tabloids writing some stupid nonsense. He is cute though. And somehow loving kids that aren’t his is making him more attractive. It shows he could be a father, but was smart enough to prevent it. Ugh, you can’t be thinking about things like this. You just know his name. But a name is a start. No! Not this one. You will not fall into this trap again.

Maeve plops down on the couch, sighing as she looks out the window. Ransom was running late, and that only meant one thing. She wasn’t going to the concert tonight.

“Maevey!” Charlie says, bouncing on her older sister’s lap. “Don’t be sad. Uncle Ranny is watching us tonight, and she’ll be at Gillette tomorrow night, too. Can we make bracelets again?” Maeve wants to say no, until she sees her sister’s dark green eyes pleading up at her. “Pretty please?”

“Fine, go get the stuff. I’m sure Ran will just have pizza delivered. And…we’ll watch her interview on Leslie Locke’s today,” it wasn’t the same as actually seeing you in concert, but it would be fine. Maybe you’d talk about some upcoming music. Maybe you’d talk about a new project.

Charlie runs into her room to grab up her beads and elastic. Anything to play and spend time with her big sister. Bringing it back with the biggest smile on her face.

By the time Ransom walks into the house, he gives Maeve a regretful smile, shaking his head, “Maeve, I did try. Me and Candy didn’t end well, so I didn’t think she would help me out. And hey, your dad is the QB, shouldn’t he be able to help?”

“They’re sold out,” her voice is flat as she returns to stringing on a bead. “She’ll be on Leslie’s soon.”

“Leslie Locke’s?” Ransom groans, sitting on the floor with the girls. “All that woman wants to do is hook people up with another celebrity. She’s obnoxious, but she asks questions that nobody wants to ask. You guys really watch that trash?” Maeve shrugs her shoulders, adding another bead to her current bracelet. “What is this?”

“I love friendship bracelets! Here, Uncle Ranny, you start one. You gonna get twinkle toes this weekend?” Snorting, he shakes his head no. Giving a groan when the Leslie Locke theme song plays in the background. It is like he was getting irritated by just the thought of having to hear her voice. “I like when you get twinkle toes. It means we’re going to wake up with you here.”

“I’m here now to watch you because,” he pauses, looking up at Charlie whose eyes darken a moment. “Nixon will be okay. They think there’s a new…”

“Ran, don’t,” Maeve pulls Charlie over into her lap, giving her tiny sister a kiss on the head. “He’s going to be okay, sissy.”

“Of course he is, princess. Nixie boy is going to be so strong, and going to be the best linebacker that the east coast has ever seen,” reaching out his hand, he gives the little girl a tap to her nose, “I promise, Nixon will be okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Hey, look! Maevey! There she is. Oh, she’s so pretty, huh, Uncle Ranny?” Both girls turn to look towards Ransom, and he is only staring at you as you wave to the camera. Giving the audience the prettiest smile. He’s notices the fake smile you give Leslie. He’s done it a few times.

“What do you think?” Maeve leans towards him, bumping his shoulder. “You have just as much chance as those normal people. But she has this tendency to,” Maeve’s words turn into mush as Ransom watches you. He hadn’t ever seen anyone more beautiful. He isn’t sure why he hadn’t ever thought to look you up. Especially when there was the rumor you would be singing at the Super Bowl.

Your fake little giggle as you look at Leslie is even adorable. He isn’t paying attention to whatever little game Leslie is playing with you until Charlie sees it.

“That’s me!” Charlie shouts, jumping out of her sister’s lap. “That’s me! Maevey, she’s looking at us.”

“Oh, my god,” Maeve chokes out, hearing you mention how Ransom was cute. “Oh my god! She’s seen my face. She…she’s — Ransom, do you understand what this means?” Ransom can’t think of anything other than the fact that you are staring at a picture of him.

“I have an idea. Ran, I have — Ransom Drysdale! She’s going to be at the children’s hospital before her concert. Ransom! Ransom, pay attention to me.”

You thought he was cute. You smiled a genuine smile looking at him. His phone hadn’t rang. Leslie wasn’t trying to put her meddling nose where it didn’t belong. He could call his people, and get them to call your people. This could work. One date. One night.

“Ransom!”

“What?” He asks, finally looking at Maeve.

“I have an idea, and you won’t have to get anyone’s teams involved. It would just be you and her. It’s perfect, and she loves simple things. She loves little sneaks. And I think she kinda liked the idea that you don’t have kids, but you’re around them. Ran, I know what we need to do.”

Performing was the easy part of your career. Having moments to tell your stories with a guitar in your hand. Nothing else matters. Just you and the movement of the lyrics. Looking up to see the children’s faces makes you smile.

You wanted a family. One day you would have some of your own. Even though you’re sealed up in a studio alone, this is one of your favorite crowds to perform for. Big beaming smiles as they hang on to every word that you say. They always called you powerful, but they were the powerful ones. Always able to have a smile on their face.

Smiling despite whatever was going on in their lives. Enjoying life regardless of what their diagnoses were. Simple. Peaceful. Looking back down at your guitar, you close your eyes for a moment, and just feel the music. Everyone always had something going on in their life. Money couldn’t buy you everything. Definitely couldn’t make bad stuff from happening to you.

Opening them back up, you look out into the small audience and choke. Having to look away from the handsome man that was standing in front of you. You had only just seen him in a photo recently, and there he was. It was like the clouds had opened up, and the sun shone right on him. His blue shirt setting off his eyes even more. And those jeans made his legs look days long. He is staying casual, even a brand new pair of Nikes on. He wasn’t even remotely your type, and still you feel drawn to him.

“Uncle Ranny she saw you,” Ransom shakes his head no. He imagined the crack in your voice when you looked up at him. He has to hold Charlie up, so she could actually see over the crowd in front, and Maeve leans over on his shoulder. “Yeah huh. She did. Or it was me.”

“It was definitely you,” Ransom responds without looking away from you. You looked delicate in that room all by yourself. Strumming on a guitar and peaceful. He didn’t have the best reputation in the NFL. The reputation of a perpetual playboy. Love them and leave them, so if you wanted to even talk to him, you would have to accept that. And from what research he did on you, any male in your vicinity was automatically your Prince Charming.

Two people from very different careers, and rumors that ruled your careers just as much as your talent. The rumors aren't always true. Some nights Ransom doesn’t even go home with those women. He crawls into a tiny little twin sized princess bed with pink ruffles. The tabloids could write what they wanted to. But this — this is an intimate setting, and he’s never seen anyone more beautiful than you.

You might not realize it, but you look at each child that is watching you perform. Giving them a moment of joy. There are no cameras, and nobody to see what you’re doing but these kids and family. And then he realizes he must look like the biggest asshole because he was here.

“We should go,” he whispers, and he swears he sees you shake your head no. Could you read lips, and were you asking him not to go?

“No, we can’t,” Maeve whispers, her eyes staying on you the entire time. “You have to give her what you made.”

“Maeve, this is silly,” she gives her quasi uncle a quick pinch on his forearm. Something she’s done most of her life. Her silent way of letting him know that she wasn’t going to change her mind, she needs to see this through. “I can just get…”

“She doesn’t like setups like that. She wants things to be organic.”

“I showed up at the children’s hospital to see her,” and saying it out loud sounds even more absurd than it felt. He was crossing a line by coming here.

“You are just bringing us to our parents, so we can check on our little brother because he’s going to have another surgery. This is as random as you can get,” Maeve’s words stop in her mouth as you smile at the three of them. Your eyes looking back to the kids in the front. You aren’t sure why they are there, but you aren’t entirely upset about it either.

He looks more handsome in person. And the way those girls are so comfortable with him. A quick Google search told you how close he was with his QB. How he spent a ton of free time with him, and his kids. You hope that they linger. You always want to give time to everyone before they are shuffled back into their room. Hoping a smile towards them, and holding up a finger, asking them to give you a minute will be enough.

You know it isn’t going to be long before you are going to be ushered away in preparation for the show. Taking a deep breath, you go to hug each and every one of them. Watching your PA from the side who is constantly checking on the time. Hopefully Ransom and his nieces understood it wasn’t being rude. She was always conscious of your time.

As soon as the last person is pulled away from your side, you stand up straight to look at Ransom with whatever smile your social battery will allow. Your PA says your name, and motions you with her head it was time to leave, “Give me ten more minutes?” She looks at Ransom and the girls, and holds up her whole hand. Five minutes was better than nothing.

“So,” you huff out walking towards them. Having to gulp when you realize just how massive Ransom is. No wonder the little girl looked tiny in his arms. “Uh,” you giggle, not knowing exactly what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“My brother is here,” the oldest girl blurts out, and pulls at Ransom’s arm. “He has something for you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes. You do. He’s on the Pats. He tried to get tickets to your show last night, but they were sold out. I’ve always wanted to see you. I’m your biggest fan. My little sister, Charlotte, loves you, too. She’s just four, so she doesn’t understand all the lyrics. But I do. I love how you kinda tease your fans, and give us little Easter eggs in anticipation for your next album, or sneak things into your videos. It’s so cool,” panicking she looks up at Ransom. Realizing she had word vomited all of that to you. This wasn’t how she imagined meeting you would go.

“Maevey, breathe,” the little girl giggles, before hiding her face on Ransom.

“She talks a lot when she’s nervous,” Maeve gives him a pinch to his arm, and if you weren’t standing right in front of him, laughing a tiny bit, he wouldn’t do what he was about to do. “I did try.”

“Well, what if I told you that I have a few extra tickets to the show. I always ask for a box at these stadium shows to stay empty for me just in case. It’s still empty,” both the girls squeal, and Maeve tugs on Ransom’s arm a bit. “I should probably go, honestly. But…I’ll have my people call yours?”

“Uhh…where is,” You point over to a few hidden areas in the hospital. You had people everywhere. He’s sure most are for security. But still one could figure out what it was Ransom needed to do to get to the stadium. Maeve gives him another pinch to his arm, and he grunts as you start to turn around.

“Uh, me and the girls, we uh — we made you something.”

“That’s adorable,” you preen, looking between both of the girls. Ransom reaches his giant hand into his pocket, and pulls out a crude bracelet.

“We made friendship bracelets last night instead of watching your concert. I just brought them here to see their parents and baby brother.”

“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you’ve had sweet things given to you. But there is something about envisioning this man on the floor with two girls, and making a bracelets with those thick fingers. “Thank you. Honestly, I want to see you guys in the box tonight. Jared will get you all the info that you need.”

“Yes. Yes, you will. Ransom has nothing to do. Nothing at all,” you liked the teenager with him. Even when nervous, she still said what she thought.

Ransom sighs as you walk away. Thankful you hadn’t looked at what the bracelet said while you were in front of him. He could breathe again, but you couldn’t. Walking with your PA, your fingers play with the bracelet until you are helped into your car.

“June, he’s so hot. Like hot hot obviously. He’s so big and wide, and the way he delicately held Charlotte? Oh my god. That was the sweetest thing, and I need them at the show tonight.”

“Don’t let him be a distraction.”

“I won’t,” you roll your eyes, finally giving the bracelet a look. He was smooth. You stuff it back in your pocket. Smiling from ear to ear, and knowing that when you go alone, you were going to pick up your phone, and make sure that he had your number, too.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @fenixstar @astrorogers @musingsfromthemitten @patzammit @stillthatbetch

[ziggyevenstar]

ya girl voted today, came home, and thought she wanted white covers for her heroes of olympus set

[teddydeer]

my real life daughter her name is princess blossom bunny ;w; lil picture of us under the cut!<3

her eyes are a lil uneven she is so perfect

[human-for-tonight]

you once had a sister.

she was warm in a way that complimented your coolness, and she believed in justice, and she was happy in her marriage, and she loved you. and people loved her as they prospered and she brought plentiful harvests to them.

and then she changed.

you held out hope, because that is what people do on cold nights - hold out hope for the warmth that will return. but it never did. your sister’s wife was no longer able to hold onto her doubt that the people changing her would not succeed. her followers were killed and she left. and when your followers were slaughtered in your sister’s name, she did nothing to stop them. as long as enough remained that you would not die, she let them continue down their path. she never raised a hand against you or her wife - perhaps a sign some part of her former self remained deep inside. but you could not abandon your followers in the same way she could not abandon these new ones. so you had them remove every trace of her. you no longer recall if you were a goddess of sorrow before this act, or if this sorrow somehow rippled back through time, as you did the only thing you could to save her from that violent fate.

you wonder if her wife hated you for what you did, despite being the first to leave. you only truly regret it once, when her wife’s sister does the same thing to her, not to save her but to corrupt her as your sister had been corrupted. you miss your sister and her justice in those times. your sorrow is for both the sisters you have now lost.

and then you sister’s wife is returned to who she once was by a teenage cleric. and, a few weeks later, when you briefly meet your own teenage cleric, you say please. please do not abandon me and my family. be brave and i will find a way to bring you back to my side. and she is brave. and you hold onto a renewed hope that the warmth of your sister will return.

you are ruvina, goddess of winter and sorrow. and just as winter does not last forever, you hope that this sorrow too will end with summer’s return.

[tampire]

Yuna is a Hero for capturing the Great Malboro

[rotzaprachim]

digging my teeth into the really dark fascinating fucked-upness of helnik. they’re fascinating in being a wartime love story about an intentional victim of genocidal violence and an unintentional fuck-around-and-find-out victim of “collateral damage,” both of which are different forms of wartime violence. 

nina is targeted as a grisha, she’s almost killed by the druskelle and fjerda in the books not for being a ravkan spy or agent but simply for being grisha. they will kill her for being grisha. and how will they kill her? they will burn her. and it’s fascinating when she tells matthias in a very justified moment of rage (i mean. they’re looking at the dying burned corpses of her people whom jesper, also a grisha, had to physically shoot) and says i want your family to burn i want them all to be burnt in the way my people were. and matthias says, they already have been. they already burned. and how that changes the entire dynamic between them, everything leading up to that, becuase FUCK. yeah. his whole family has already been burnt. he’s a lone survivor of something in much the same way she is, and his family was burnt not on purpose for being grisha but as a “justified accident,” the casual civilian side-damage of war. and it was her people. unlike the intentional, systemic violence that destroyed her people and left nina a shaken, traumatised survivor of a purposeful genocide, we have matthias as this destroyed survivor of one of those little sorts of accidents that’s swallowed and justified by the shape of the war and what Must Be Done to succeed. (also he serves as like, one of the only times i think it’s really faced that the first army is, you known, a national army that does national-army-during-a-war things.) one does not cancel out the other. 

their relationship is difficult and fucked and that’s why it’s fascinating and has so much potential to explore. it’s so much more complicated than the tiktok “enemies to lovers” trope because they dig right at the base of what it is to be an enemy to someone else. from the ship nina is an almost-lone survivor of the damage his people did. from his village being burnt by inferni matthias is a lone survivor of the damage her people did. from the consequences of war on his people and violent prejudice against her own, nina is raised a child soldier and in many ways reduced to weaponry, something that absolutely is a form of child abuse. from the consequences of war on her people matthias is inducted into a cult and subjected to spiritual abuse. they’ve been hurt by each other’s nations, but also by their own. there’s something so brutal but also tender in the way they knock each other off the orbits they’ve been living in and force them out of the home that is burning. love may make you free, but not without drowning first.