#there’s a universe inside of you

[plutobabyy]

Children born between 2025-2027 who will have Aries Saturn/Neptune, Gemini Uranus, & Aquarius Pluto are going to be a FORCE of NATURE. They will shift the very fabrics of time & space, they’ll usher in a new level of intelligence previously unseen to the masses, they will fight to rebuild entire new Earthly civilizations!

[autisticrodent]

I wish writers got to end their shows on their terms instead of their show getting cancelled on like a cliff hanger or like their show being dragged on for longer than the writers intended.

[euniysu]

"But who are you when the sun rises?"

A new year on the horizon (click for bigger sizes!)

[patreon] [prints] [twitter]

[inkykeiji]

begging touya-nii to buy you pretty pink brass knuckles, with heart-shaped holes and a shimmering coat of magenta chrome, plus a matching pretty pink switchblade, with a razored prismatic blade and a handle encrusted with corresponding iridescent crystals—pearlescent, almost, so it matches yours, niichan!

he won’t, because little girls shouldn’t have such dangerous weapons—nor should they need them, not when they’ve got their big brothers with them, wary sapphire eyes watchful and protective, obsessive and excessive.

he won’t, because little girls shouldn’t sully their soft, sweet palms with such dirty defences—not when they’ve got their big brothers to do it for them, cuticles stained with blood and calluses tarnished with gunpowder, filthy hands strong and rough as they wrap around handles and wrists and triggers, as they push soft, sweet things behind their broad shoulders, against their hard chests, into their childhood beds.

he won’t, because even if he did, little girls wouldn’t know how to use them properly, little girls might hurt themselves—or worse, little girls might hurt their big brothers, might smash bones and split skin and slash hearts, might scratch and claw and gnaw their way loose (all by accident, of course; he knows you’d never do such blasphemous things on purpose, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less).

no, he won’t, but dabi might.

[cchipollo]

mirror universe q and picard phone doodles (they are bad and sketchy as but its ok)

[chrisbangs]

231003 ♡ Happy Birthday Bang Chan!

[dramashii]

Xing Zhi:

Xing Zhi a few seconds later:

The only right way to response:

Bonus:

Gods have to be indifferent.

THE LEGEND OF SHEN LI (2024) | Ep 21

[ifisawyoueverydayforeverwill]

Y'ALL NEED TO SEE THIS PANEL

[floofle-universe]

This is their dynamic Shion told me

[i-like-forcefem]

so i know this guy and he's very cute,, and i kinda wanna forcefem him, but don't know where to start 🥺🥺

/hj

Awwww that’s wonderful!!!

Well one of my favourite techniques is by allowing the target plausible deniability for dressing up

Maybe do a bet and the loser has to wear this dress Or maybe make it real ambiguous and reveal the dress part later

Or maybe make a bigger social event where everyone dresses so cutely so you might as well join in

Be kind, be accepting and patient, love every single step “he” takes and be very vocal about your encouragements

Truly love bomb “him”, make “him” associate feminity with happiness (if that association isn’t there already), make every step made “wonderful and lovely and you’re doing so great and I’m so so proud of you and I just want to gobble you up and and and” don’t give “him” any time to doubt

“He” is adorable and you’re so so so glad “he” is letting you do “his” nails, you know this color would fit so so well, and regardless of how well painted the nails are, they do add so much and make “him” look so good, and we should really try purple next!

That’s another crucial step, once you make progress don’t let it go

You paint his nails? Wonderful! If they get chipped and “he” asks how to remove it als to it for “him and instantly apply a new color

“He” let you do some basic makeup? Make “him” feels so so pretty and set a time next week when we can try the different mascara! And maybe even dress up a little to match the make up!

“He” puts on a skirt for you? Well it’s gorgeous it fits so so well it’s really “his” color! And maybe just take it with you? And if not let’s go clothes shopping next week! I know this lovely second hand store where we can get you so many beautiful clothes for cheap! It’d be a shame if you didn’t own at least one skirt yourself!

And, I kind of forgot what I was saying there! Just get “him” to agree to one minor point, make “him” feel so so loved for it, and always set up the next point, which can be either more of the same or an escalation, but never give her time to doubt, herself always pin down a “next-time” for her to look forward to, and always make her feel so so loved for showing up every time!

People aren’t nearly vocal enough about how they feel towards those closest to them! Be the exception!

[plutobabyy]

Check what houses & planets in your natal chart your fav artists sun/moon/rising aspect; they heavily speak to this area of your life.

Jhene Aiko lights up my 2nd & 5th house

J. Cole lights up my 3rd, 4th, & 7th.

Jhene brings my Moon awareness, within my self worth, my connection to my emotions & my souls expression. J. Cole brings my Saturn & Aquarius IC awareness, connecting my mind to the true sense of family, loyalty in partnerships, & dedication to humanity.

[shokuto]

You ever think about the extent of Gwen’s feelings for Miles and just

[helphelpquesohelado]

i was reading I Want! an Inside Out fanfic by DystoricInfinity on Ao3 (go check it out :))), and the scene in the last chapter reminded me of Steven Universe. I got inspired.

Poor Envy.

[mala-santa-radfem]

i'm so fucking sick to my stomach to hear how college girls (GIRLS MY AGE, GIRLS THAT LOOK LIKE ME, THAT LIVE LIKE ME, THAT HAVE THE SAME DREAMS AS ME) disappear and the next day they're found dead in their universities. i see cases like that almost every month while feminist groups in my uni are BEGGING for safety protocols every day because we're fucking scared, while those girls' families beg for justice. THIS IS FEMINICIDE.

[luckyshinyhunter]

😊Here's Inside Out 2, if it was inside my head!😊

[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.

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