#Eminem Younger

[doctorsiren]

the doodles I did while flying back home today

[butchdykekondraki]

also it was never confirmed but im 99% sure they styled jesse pinkman breaking bad off of eminem in the late 90s-early 2000's. they dress nearly the exact same. down to the shaved head w/ white-blonde hair. its sooo funny to me

[latenightsundayblues]

i love how you draw adam. he really is a sopping wet rat

*twirls hair* you think sooooooo

[ghosty-ghouls]

Just remembered that when I was like 10 my mom made a comment (possibly joking I wouldn’t know) about how I couldn’t understand the words rap artists were saying and somehow equated that to me being racist- SHE WAS LISTENING TO EMINEM*??? Also auditory processing issues??? Also WHAT

*me and Eminem are both white

[therealcocoshady]

Hi coco!

Can you do a one shot about a younger actress reader?

There is a tiktok going viral about her saying that she likes older men and another where she is looking at marshall at an event with "fuck me eyes"?

Reader freaks out when marshall just slides into her dms but later they are spotted together at the paparazzi?

I just find it cute and awkward 💀

DADDY’S SPAGHETTI 🍝

Eminem x Young Actress Reader

Synopsis : You are a young actress whose crush on Eminem becomes public. You are mortified about it… until he slides in your DMs.

Author’s Note : I absolutely LOVED this request, I had to give it a go ❤️. I was inspired and I swear I never wrote anything that quickly. It is short and sweet and I hope you enjoy it. ☺️

You thought you were done being publicly embarrassed. Yet, life was proving you wrong. As an actress who had her start in her teenage years, you weren’t a stranger to embarrassment. From awkward casting calls to stupid deaths on TV, it was practically part of the job. However, as your career evolved, you thought it would go away. After all, you were now in a better position, able to choose the projects you were involved in and you had garnered the respect from your peers and the industry. Even the media had become more kind towards you. In a matter of years, you had gone from the awkward teen movie star to well-respected actress, and you were able to look back fondly to your early years. You even joked about how awkward you were, back then. The last thing you expected was for it to start all over again. 

You were walking the red carpet for the premiere of your latest movie, your biggest project to date. It was truly the highlight of your career : a role created specifically for you, a movie directed by someone you admired, a beautiful story told on the big screen… You had gotten your fair share of praise in the past, but you knew this was going to be your « big break ». Behind the scenes, everyone had praised your performance and told you it was « Oscars material ». You didn’t know if that was true or not, but you were on cloud nine nonetheless. When you walked the red carpet at the premiere, in a custom Elie Saab gown, everything felt right and you weren’t even stressed out when you answered the questions of a few journalists present. 

You look truly amazing, tonight, one commented. Who are you wearing ? 

Thank you ! This is a custom Elie Saab, I feel like a princess. I sort of had to dress up for this beautiful event, you replied as you tried to shift the focus on the movie. 

This is your biggest role to date, another said. How do you feel about the movie ? Have you seen it ? 

I’ve seen bits and pieces. But I’m going to discover the whole thing tonight, you said with excitement. I’m very confident. Filming with such a director was an honor and I know that the result will be great. I can’t wait for everyone to see it ! 

One thing that everybody is really excited about is the soundtrack, too, a third journalist chimed in. Eminem was involved. Have you heard the theme song yet ? 

I haven’t, you said. But it’s Eminem so I know it’s going to be absolutely fantastic ! I can’t wait to hear it ! 

You sound like you like his work. Have the two of you met ? They asked. 

Oh, I’m his biggest fan, you said with a huge smile. His music’s the soundtrack to my life ! But no, I haven’t met him… 

Tonight’s your chance, they joked. He is over there. 

They pointed to him and Eminem was, indeed, a few feet away from you. He had been a celebrity crush of yours for years and you were absolutely starstruck. He was even more attractive than in pictures ! You couldn’t help but stare. This man was oozing charisma and commanding attention. You didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with « fuck me » eyes and licking your lips. For a brief instant, you completely forgot where you were, until you heard your name being called, signaling that you had to keep walking and enter the screening room. That night, you didn’t get a chance to meet your idol, though. As the lead of the movie, people kept on coming over to you and talking to you. It was probably for the best, too. You had been starstruck enough on the red carpet ad you did not trust yourself to have a pleasant exchange with him. 

Of course, the video of you thirsting over Eminem went viral. It would have been kind of cute if other clips hadn’t surfaced. There were videos from years ago, of you talking about having a crush on him - God, you really didn’t have a filter, back then - and especially one interview where you were candid about being attracted by older men. 

What’s your type when it comes to men and dating ? The journalist asked. 

I like mature, older men, you said candidly. I’m not really attracted to people my age. 

Any physical features you’re attracted to ? 

Oh, it’s typical, you know, you giggled. Dark hair, blue eyes… I like a nice beard, too. 

So basically… Eminem ? The interviewer playfully asked. 

Oooof… You have no idea, you replied with a grin. 

Isn’t he… Old enough to be your Dad, though ? 

Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind calling Marshall Mathers Daddy, you giggled. 

At the time, this interview didn’t make much noise. It was for an indie podcast and, seeing as you weren’t too famous at the time, it sort of flew under the radar. It was kind of a harmless joke and a nod to your thirst for him, which all your friends were very much aware of. However, the video resurfaced after the viral red carpet clip, and people were quick to make edits, soberly titled « Y/N thirsting over Eminem over the years ». Your friends jokingly forwarded them to you and you know they were being playful, but to you, it was everything but fun. You were absolutely mortified. Having a crush on him was one thing, but there was a literal video of you staring at him like you were in heat. So much for being a classy movie star… 

The nail in the coffin came when Marshall was interviewed and asked to react to the video of you thirsting over him. He seemed genuinely surprised, leading to think that he wasn’t aware of the clip before the interview. All in all, he didn’t say much, he just described the whole thing as « flattering » and quickly went on to praise your performance in the movie : « We didn’t actually meet, but I saw the movie, which I worked on the soundtrack for, and she is really amazing in it. Really talented. ». Thank God, he didn’t add to your embarrassment. Your friends were going crazy over this « Come on, Y/N, he said he was flattered and that you’re talented ! That’s cute ! You should DM him or something », they encouraged you. However, you didn’t. He was clearly just being classy and not publicly embarrassing you - you did that on your own anyway. 

A few days later, however, you had the biggest surprise of your life : a DM from him on Instagram. At first, you thought it was a fake account and didn’t pay it much attention but it was clearly him, verified account, blue tick and everything. You were nervous to open it and you almost didn’t want to. What would he say to you ? Most likely something along the lines of « Please don’t mention me ever again, that’s awkward, you’re awkward and your filmography is trash anyway». It actually took you a couple of days to muster the courage of opening it. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything horrible. Quite the contrary, actually. He was in LA for the week and wanted to know if you’d have dinner with him. You were terrified and freaking out, but also excited. At first, you were reluctant - what if you embarrassed yourself ? But ultimately, curiosity got the best of you and you accepted. Surely, if he asked you to have dinner with him, it couldn’t be that bad, right ? 

A couple of days later, the two of you went for dinner and joined at SoHo House in West Hollywood. Due to both of your fame, a members-only social club was a safe pace that allowed for privacy. You were nervous, at first, and some paranoid part of your brain was scared that it would be a complete disaster, but it was the contrary. He introduced himself as Marshall and was an absolute gentleman and a sweetheart. He mentioned he had seen a lot of your movies and described himself as an admirer of your work. The whole evening, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. He put you at ease and was one of the most interesting persons you had ever met, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and funny as hell, too. You weren’t too sure, but it also seemed like he was subtly flirting with you, though you didn’t want to get in your own head and make assumptions. He was so chill that you weren’t star struck anymore, but you were still reasonably impressed and too scared to flirt, so you simply enjoyed conversation with him. You were usually scared to meet people you admired, afraid that you’d have a terrible interaction with them that would taint your perception of their work, but the whole dinner was heavenly and you were so glad he DMed you. In his company, time seemed like a foreign concept, so much so that you had to be kicked out of the club’s restaurant, since you were the only customers left and it was 2 in the morning. 

I can’t believe we’ve been here for six hours already, you giggled. Time really flew by. 

It did, he said with a smile. I’m really glad we did this, Y/N. 

Me too, you said shyly. 

You were in the lobby, about to part ways, and your heart was beating fast. The way he spoke your name had you feeling all the feels and you didn’t really want the moment to end. He was staring at you intently while you were nervously biting your lip, trying not to say something awkward that could ruin the night. « Don’t be that person, Y/N », you thought to yourself. 

Thank you for coming, he said. When you didn’t reply to my DM, I thought you didn’t really want to meet. But I had a really great time tonight. 

Yeah, sorry I… I actually took a few days to open your message because I was scared, you confessed. I mean, we haven’t addressed the elephant in the room tonight, but I did kind of make a fool of myself on the red carpet. And when you wrote, I was kind of nervous. 

You didn’t make a fool of yourself, he said reassuringly. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was kind of adorable. 

No need to sugarcoat it, you said nervously. You’ve seen that video of me thirsting over you… 

I have, he said as he got closer to you. I’m pretty lucky… 

A-Are you ? You asked nervously. 

Yeah… Thank God they didn’t catch me staring at you the whole night of the premiere, he continued. Because I literally couldn’t take my eyes off you. You’re gorgeous. 

Oh ? Uhm… I mean… The glam team really did a good job, you babbled. And the stylists, too. 

They really did, he said with a smile as he got even closer. You were stunning. 

I mean, it was a lot of work for me to look good, you know ? I mean I normally look like tra-… I mean, not trash but you know it’s… 

There you were. Embarrassing yourself. There was only so much time you could spend in his intoxicating presence without making a fool of yourself and, apparently, it was six hours. He was smiling and you nerves were getting the best of you. You didn’t drink too much at dinner and you couldn’t even blame it on the cocktails. Just your dumb brain making interactions awkward. Thank God the lobby was dimly lit, otherwise, he would have seen your face turn bright red. You cheeks were burning from embarrassment. 

I-I’m sorry, you said. I’m not good at talking to hot people. I mean you’re… Oh my God, why can’t I shut up ? I’m sorry, it’s late and -

I’ll help you, he chuckled as he cupped your face and kissed you. 

The kiss was soft and romantic and you could feel him smile into it. He had one hand stroking your cheek while the other one was on your waist, pulling you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and fully leaned into the kiss as your lips parted ways, allowing his tongue to caress yours. Thank God it was late and you were the only people there, having some sense of privacy while the kiss got more and more passionate. When he broke the embrace, Marshall grabbed your hand and pressed his forehead to yours. 

Would you like to come to my room ? He asked with a smile. 

Ok, you nodded - still a bit dizzy from the kiss. 

In the elevator, you kissed hungrily and there was absolutely no doubt as to where this was headed. You usually weren’t the kind of girl to sleep on the first date, but your five-date policy was thrown to the fire. Marshall was way too hot, way too charismatic. Also, you’d fantasized about him long enough to make an exception. If every wet dream of yours he had inhabited over the years counted as a date, this was actually overdue. You made it to the room and quickly ended up on the bed with him on top of you, nipping at the sweet spot in your neck. 

Marshall, you moaned. 

You meant « Daddy », right ? He asked with a smirk. 

You stared at him with your mouth open, almost embarrassed as you remembered your comment about how you wouldn’t mind calling him Daddy. Your shocked expression made him laugh and he didn’t give you time to reply. Instead, he captured your lips and ran his hands under your blouse. That night, you did end up calling him « Daddy », as well as screaming his name while he ravished you in every way possible until the both of you passed out from exhaustion. 

The next morning, as you woke up in his arms, you weren’t too sure what to do or say, wondering if that was a one time thing or not. However, you weren’t confused for too long as Marshall asked you on another dinner date. You saw each other as much as possible for the remainder of his stay in California. It was meant to be casual, at first, but it quickly became more and, even though the two of you were busy, you tried to make it work. Whenever he came to LA to work with Dre, he would stay at your place and, as soon as you had free time, you flew to Michigan to spend time with him. It was only a matter of time until rumors started to emerge about the two of you, though you were careful not to be spotted together. 

DADDY’S SPAGHETTI : Y/N SPOTTED IN DETROIT. 

Oscar-nominated actress Y/N was spotted in Detroit last week. She was seen grabbing a takeout order from Mom’s Spaghetti on Woodward Avenue. Through the years, Y/N has been quite vocal about her love of Eminem, but it seems like she’s doing more than supporting the Rap God’s business venture. The hoodie she was wearing does look a lot like the one Eminem was wearing a few days earlier when he was spotted attending the Lions game. Last time she walked the red carpet, Y/N was seen thirsting over the Detroit rapper. Is there a chance they could appear at the Oscars together ?

[dukecollinsbf]

darlin's unempowered friend hcs :3 also masc darlin oc mentioned A LOT! (who's surprised)

his name is trevor o'connor. he's half korean (mom's side) and was born in northern ireland, belfast specifically, before moving to america around the same time that julius (darlin) came to Dahlia, so they quickly became friends because they were both new and had no clue what to do with themselves

he moved away because his mom abandoned him and his dad and his dad, tiernan, didn't really know what to do with himself and moved to america where his brother was. (tiernan is a triplet!) his dad eventually remarried to charlotte and is now extremely happy. trevor loves char!! he has younger siblings from her (that sounds weird? idk how else to word it) and she's overall just one of those mothers that radiate sunshine but does NOT play abt her kids

julius has a bunch of nicknames for him. It went from Trevor to Trev to T to TT (Tee-tee) then titty then Mr. Titty. It's like when you give your dog a nickname and then it escalates into something completely different 

neither of these dudes can walk straight. widawee. like they bump into each other or walk in front of each other and get mad like "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"

they were both losers... they were both pretty boys, but losers. like if they were extroverts and didn't have interests that were considered "weird" then they probably would've been more popular in school

before moving to america, trevor forgot to break up with the girl he was dating so it looked like he literally just disappeared. one time during lunch at school trevor did a big ol sigh like "SIGHH.... man i miss my gf.." and julius was like WHAT r u even talking about......

one time he buzzed and bleached his hair and julius called him eminem for a week and a half before trevor got mad and made julius dye it silver, and when it grew out he had those like tiny little spikes with dark roots and he thought he was the SHIT (he was.)

allergic to pineapple 

dyslexic

his favourite number is 8. julius' is 7. 

after being attacked by quinn, trevor never blamed julius

julius tried to cook for him when he got discharged from the hospital and trevor was like "what... even is this.." 

he didn't eat it. julius ordered him something and ate his creation himself cus he hates wasting food

monster lover, julius is a redbull lover

trevor is also a WHORE for a dr. pepper

one time when they were 14, they tried feeding a stray dog which lead to julius being bitten HARDDD like this dog held on for dear life. afterwards, they hopped on trevor's bike and went to marie's. halfway there trevor asked if julius was okay and julius was just like "are you serious."

they always argue over shit like soccer vs football, chips vs fries, scone vs biscuit, etc. all julius can say to defend himself is "im not from this country."

once he was caught in a lie and trevor replied with "i have an accent, you don't know what i said."

do not have a srs talk around these two. they'll make eye contact and lose their shit

julius wanted to start a band and trevor was like dude we have literally no friends what are you talking about

they used to cuddle platonically all the time, especially when all the quinn shit was going on

trevor has horrendous handwriting. julius makes fun of him when his own handwriting isnt any better, but he defends himself by saying you can read it and that's all that matters

julius : i made u a friendship bracelet :3

trev; thats gay

julius: ok fuck u damn give me it back

trev: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEAAAAAAAAAASE

trevor has a ginger little cat with one eye who's called pearce 

one time julius and trev's apartment building caught on fire cus of shitty wiring and julius had to sit outside in just baggy sweatpants and trevor was sitting out there on the curb in just underwear and a pair of slippers cus it was like 2am

julius: ur so annoyi-

trevor: UR APARTMENT BURNED DOWN!!!!!

even tho it was his apartment too and they literally lose half their shit to the fire

trevor's little sister made him mad one time and he told her the tooth fairy wasn't real

they worked together for a while and both got fired cus they both have anger issues and were also so unserious. like they'd end up on the floor with laughter mid shift.

he hated david for a long ass time. he'd refer to him as bitch boy. he loved asher tho and thought milo was a little too intimidated for a short guy (sassy man apocalypse.)

he has an eyebrow piercing and a few small tattoos, he's scared of needles but wanted to look cool

he didn't know about magic until he got attacked by quinn and was about to pass out from blood loss and he fully thought it was a hallucination. then julius came to him in the hospital like you'll never believe this...

EVER SINCE THEN, julius has no peace.

werewolf reaction pics. dog jokes. julius' birthday gift after trev found out was a squaky toy and on halloween he dressed up as the most cliche werewolf ever and said he was julius. (creds to aster). he used to call it transforming instead of shifting and julius would be like THATS NOT WHAT ITS CALLEDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

"man, im bored... wanna go play fetch?" "ur hairs getting long... i'll take u to the dog groomers." "do u want a pedigree??"

THIS IS KINDA WHAT TREV LOOKS LIKE!! (awooga booga *hearts pop out of my eyes and my tongue drops out of my mouth and rolls across the grounf like a red carpet)

also this pic (ik it doesn't look like my darlin oc or Trev) is so them

DAMN CAN I YAP!!!

tags - (i lurv u guys)

@achios @aurorialwolf @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @tgckceo @astrodude-87 @krashkitty @cozy-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @porters-fangs @n0r

cus u guys eat up my hcs.

[twohearts-hs]

Always & Forever Two - Marshall Mathers x Reader Series

Words: 4.4k

Pairings: Marshall Mathers x Fem!Reader Series

Synopsis;: They loved each other with every fibre and being. They knew that they were meant to be together, but it seemed like every obstacle came in the way. She was twenty-one, he was forty and they knew that it would be hard. Therefore, they promised forever and always as they were meant to be together despite every turmoil that came their way.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol & smoking. More warnings will come throughout the series.

|| Masterlist for Series ||

Hope you enjoy :)

May 2012

Y/N leaned against the wall in the kitchen as she ran a hand over her forehead. It’s noon and she had only been here for four hours…another eight to go.

She worked three times a week at the diner. Which each were twelve-hour shifts, therefore the rest of the week she was filled with summer classes.

However, the Sunday rush was not what they anticipated. It was crazy busy. At least she got to control the music for the day which was old rock and roll.

“Tired?” she heard Gavin say from behind the steel table in the kitchen.

“You could say that,” she whispered with a chuckle as she grabbed the plates and read the tag of where they were going. “I stayed up writing a paper till three a.m. as I forgot it was due.”

“Girl, you need a break.”

“I need a holiday, but you do not get one at this ripe age of twenty-one and in this economy,” she joked as she made her way to the tables.

Placing down the plates, she said the orders before looking up. A woman in her late teens sat with brunette hair and flawless beauty and across from her was…

“Y/N,” he said her name so perfectly as if he had practised it for hours.

“Marshall,” she said as she glanced at him. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Y/N sent a quick nod and looked over at the woman across from him before looking at him. “Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything else,” was all she said before turning away.

Marshall watched as she walked back to the kitchen. He glanced to Hailie before furrowing his brow.

“You know her?” Hailie said.

“Um, not really. We met at na event but it does not matter,” he stated before glancing down at his food.

“Ok…”

Y/N walked back to the kitchen before glancing at how empty the kitchen was all of a sudden. All the cooks lined up looking out the window to main area where they placed the plates. Why were they all there?

“What are you looking at?” she asked as she stood behind them.

“Eminem is here,” Gavin said, “you just served Eminem.”

“I just served…” Y/N whispered before glancing out the window too. “I just served Eminem,” she said more to herself. Eminem got her fired. Holy shit. “Like the rapper?”

Gavin turned around and had a stunned expression. “Yeah, like the rapper.”

The more she looked at him, the more she pieced together the information. How did she not know? She grew up with Eminem. Not in terms of being a hardcore fan but his music was played in her house and her mom did go to a concert when she was younger, but she sat and talked to The Eminem the other week.

It’s been a week since she saw him. He had to been at the sports event for publicity as he was Eminem. The event of course had Eminem there as this was Detroit.

Y/N went around back to his table. Marshall glanced up from his food to see her.

“Emily went on break, so I am just filling in for her right now until she is back. How are the first few bites?” she asked.

“Good,” they both said, and Y/N was content with that and went to turn away.

However, Marshall glanced up at her and sasked, “How are you?”

Y/N heard his voice and turned back around. Then his question hit her…he asked how she was. He cared about how she was… Therefore she smiled and said, “Good. Busy but good. You?”

“Good.”

Y/N thought the conversation was done and after a moment, she nodded and turned back to the kitchen. Gavin quickly pulled her by her arm into the back.

“Gavin!” she exclaimed as he pulled her into the closet.

“How was talking to Eminem? Could you maybe hype me up and get me a auto-“

“No,” she said blankly as if it was obvious.

“What?”

“He is obviously enjoying his meal with his friend-“

“Daughter.”

“Daughter. He is enjoying a meal with his daughter, and we cannot disturb that,” Y/N said. “Now if you excuse me, I have customers to serve.”

Emily came back from her break and continued to serve Marshall and his daughter. Y/N was told to go on her break and instead, went outside to have a drink of water and to have a smoke. It was the alley by the diner, and she was just about to light one before a voice interrupted her. She was not a chain smoker or an addict…simply, she liked the tobacco filling her lungs when she was stressed. She knew the habit was bad and she needed to kick it. However, she continued smoking.

“You know those will kill you,” Marshall said as he stepped into the alley.

“A little birdy told me so,” she hummed, “but that’s-“

“The purpose. To kill yourself a little?” he commented as he leaned against the wall. “I did not know you worked at Ted’s.”

She shrugged. “Just another job.” He nodded. “It helps with the stress,” she commented, “the smoking.”

He nodded again. “It does kill you.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I hope you enjoyed your meal-“

“Wasn’t too bad. You know,” he began as he kicked the ground lightly, “we keep running into each other.”

“Detroit is small.”

“Not really,” he argued.

“What do you want me to say, Marshall?” she hummed. “This is fate?”

“If we meet for a third time I will say its fate,” he argued back.

“Ok and if we do what does that mean?”

Marshall smiled and crossed his arms. “We will find out.”

“Ok,” Y/N whispered and nodded.

“Ok. Now stop smoking for me, will you? A pretty girl with attitude is needed in this world.”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Ok, duly noted. Bye, Marshall.”

“Bye, Y/n.”

Marshall walked away and Y/N watched as he descended. He was interested in her. He was intrigued by her and yet, she could not help but wonder why the Marshall Mathers talked to her. What did Eminem want with her? Who knew?

-

June 2012

Sam was something Y/N did not know how to describe. They met at a bar a few months ago and despite knowing each other’s bodies, that was all they were doing.

He was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was taller and stronger. She did not know much about him besides his desire to become something more, but Y/N did not have time for that. She needed a release. It was simply just sex.

She did not know much about him. She knew he worked in the music industry. However, they did not have those serious conversations besides what pleased each other. Once a week they would see each other, and it would be a world of ecstasy before they parted ways.

Y/N took the bus to the recording studio. Sam was running late at the studio and suggested they meet at the studio before driving back to his place. Y/N got out of the bus and pulled her bag over her shoulder. She was in leggings and a hoodie.

Sam was fidgeting with the sound panel as Y/N entered the room. Instantly, he turned around and spotted the woman in the doorframe.

“Come in, Em and I are just mixing some tapes,” Sam said as he got up to greet her, but Y/N dodged the hug to look at the figure that sat next to him.

nstantly, Marshall smiled sending her a curt nod her way. Y/N shook her head in disbelief.

He was right. If they had a third time is the charm for meeting. This was fate. She was meant to meet Eminem for some reason. It’s been a month and a half since the curb side cigarette meeting and now she sat in his studio.

Sam introduced the team in the booth but when he got to Marshall he sent a grin.

“Y/N.”

“Marshall,” she quipped.

He chuckled and turned back to mix he was working on.

Fate. What a silly little thing…

“You know each other?” Sam asked as he glanced between the two.

“Something like that,” she hummed but then looked back at Sam. “Ready to go?”

Sam glanced around at the group before landing on Marshall. “Um, can I go, mate?” Sam asked.

Marshall did not even turn his chair before muttering, “No. We need to work on this.”

Sam nodded then looked at Y/N. “Uh, going to be a while.”

Y/N rose a brow then nodded. “Ok, I will go home.”

“You can stay,” Marshall said turning around, “would like to hear your opinion.” He patted the spot next to him that usually Sam sits but obviously he was being kicked out. Y/N settled, and Marshall handed her a pair of headphones.

“I get to listen to unreleased Eminem music?” she whispered to him.

Marshall smiled. “How did you know I was Eminem?”

“Gavin the line cook at the diner. He has a man crush on you.”

He chuckled. “Good to know. Did you know when we met?”

She shook her head before he pressed play. Y/N listened to the whole song and began to nod her head along. Marshall watched her the entire time seeing the change in expression as she enjoyed the mix. Once finished, she took the headphones off.

“I like it. Its good. What is it called?”

“Don’t know yet, but it is still a work in progress.”

Sam watched the entire scene in front of him. How she was close to him and smiled when he talked. Her eyes shined just a little brighter when he cracked a joke. He was so close to touching her and when he talked, he would lean in. Y/N was his. The last two months he had been pining after her.

Now, he got his big break at helping on an Eminem CD and here he was Eminem was stealing his girl.

Who did he think he was?

“Which tape was it?” Sam asked from the corner.

“Track eight.”

“Good one.”

Y/N turned around to see Sam and the solemn look on his face. Arms crossed as he watched the scene. However, Sam’s phone rang making him leave the room. Y/N turned to Marshall who was looking at her.

“I told you that if we meet again, it’s fate,” he quipped.

She chuckled. “Want my number or something?” He nodded, fishing out his blackberry in his pocket. “A blackberry what are you, fifty?” she hummed.

“Thirty-nine, thank you and I am very content with it.”

Another chuckle came from her lips which lit up Marshall’s cold heart for a moment. He handed her the device where she put her phone number in.

“I will warn you; I am not looking for anything serious. Just friends.”

His heart broke slightly from hearing that, but he ignored it. “That is all I am looking for. We keep running into each other-“

“Pun intended?”

“Pun intended. You are meant to be in my life somehow, Y/N.”

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked. “I am supposed to hang out with Sam, but I want to hang out with my new friend.”

Marshall smiled at that and nodded. “Want to come to my place then? We can’t really go out due to the whole Eminem…”

“Sure. Or we can go for a drive or something.”

He grinned at that. “Sure, let me get rid of Sam.”

Marshall left the room leaving Y/N in the recording room by herself. She did not know what any of this equipment was, but she was intrigued by it. Lots of buttons, levers and more. She was tempted to touch but if she fucked with an Eminem song…Eminem would fuck her up.

Eventually, Sam came back. “Are we going?”

She shook her head. “Not in the mood anymore. Raincheck?”

The look on his face made her break slightly but he nodded. “Want me to drive you home?”

She rose a brow knowing exactly what he was implying. “We are not seeing each other tonight, Sam.”

He nodded and eventually gathered his things and left. Marshall came back and saw her sitting there with her bag ready to go. He grinned.

“You know, I am not one to just jump into a stranger’s car,” she stated.

“Well, I would say we can go somewhere public but-“

“I know.”

“I trust you though,” she said, “for only meeting you three times and sharing probably less than a hundred words, I do trust you.”

His heart shined lightly from that comment and nodded. He gathered his things before letting her walk out of the recording studio. He kept his hands to himself, hands in pocket as Y/N walked by his side.

“How did you get here?”

“Bus.”

He nodded as he stopped in front of an Aston Martin V8 Vantage. They got in and Y/N placed her bag between her legs as he settled in the driver’s spot.

“How do you know Sam?”

She pursed her lips and then sent him a grimace. “We met at a bar and have been sleeping together for the last few months,” Y/N stated but said in a tone that she was not impressed with herself.

Marshall nodded. “He is just helping with one song but honestly, I am not a big fan of his work,” he admitted.

“Really? Well, if you’re not really a fan of his work, I am not really a fan of him in bed.”

He chuckled. “Bad?”

She shrugged. “Just fills the needs.”

“How is work going?” he asked as they drove.

“Fine. Working loads. I need to save for my master’s because I do not know if I am going to get a scholarship.”

Marshall nodded. “Art history, right?”

She nodded. “The most useless degree but I was eighteen and did not know what else to study. I am the first in my family to have gotten a degree so…”

“Parents did not go to school?”

“My mom never went to post-secondary. I am from Canada, and she owns a surf shop in a small town. Its super cute. My dad on the other hand…I never knew,” she said. There was more to her dad, but it was simple to just keep it like that.

“I never knew my dad too,” he said, “so I get it.”

“Yeah. I am from the same town as Pamela Anderson is from. Ladysmith, British Columbia.”

He nodded knowing exactly that name and what he has said about her. “Surf town?”

“Not really. But my mom’s best friend lives in Tofino so we used to go there like a few times a month.”

“You surf?”

“Sure do. Miss it terribly as I am stuck in the Midwest.”

“How did you get to Detroit then?”

Y/N explained the story. The scholarships, the opportunities and the need to just start new.

“My mom and I had a falling out with me moving here. She was not ready to let me go. She needed me more than I needed her.”

“Meaning?”

“I love my mom, but she loves me more than anything.”

“Well, I am a parent and I can relate-“

“But she was obsessive with me. She wanted me to be the best in everything and to make her world better. She grew up with nothing and she made a name for herself with the shop. However, she had the shop and me. That was her life.”

He nodded. “I think she was lonely.”

Y/N agreed. “She just wants the best for me but she wanted me to stay in that town, but I needed to get out of that town. Off that island.”

He nodded again.

Marshall parked the car at some park and turned to look at her.

“Why is this Canadian girl in my life?” he asked.

Y/N looked at him. “Why am I in Eminem’s car?”

He chuckled.

“I don’t care that you’re Eminem by the way. I mean I did grow up with your music and I would say my mom is a fan…” she began to ramble, “like she did get to your concert in ’02 or ’03 or something. However, I am not-“

“Stop,” he whispered, “I believe you. You’re a grounded person.”

Y/N nodded.

“And I am sorry for getting you fired,” he said, “and being a jackass about it.”

Y/N chuckled. “It was a terrible job.”

“How is the diner?”

Y/N began to explain the logistics of the diner. The secrets, the people, the life of it and Marshall listened. He truly listened to every word she said.

There was something about this Canadian girl. She was beautiful, he would admit. The way the sun shined on her face; it brightened her freckles. Her lips were plump and kissable. Her eyes were bright with life. She has seen better days, but she was a survivor and a trooper. She was something and something magnificent.

However, as she talked, he listened to everything she said but he was so focused on how she used her hands to explain the story how her eyes fluttered and her expressions changed when the tone altered.

It had been a while since he felt this way. He was always so cold towards love. Since Kim, he kept to himself, focused on his career and his girls. However, she was a light in the very dark hallway, and he could not help but be the moth drawn to it.

“Why do you sleep with Sam?”

“You asked me this question before…”

“You’re disrespecting yourself by just-“

She chuckled. “Enough about me Marshall, tell me about yourself.”

He paused for the moment to think. What did she want to know? Everything about him was accessible via the internet but the pretty girl in front of him was wanting to get to know him…

“I am Marshall Mathers,” he said, “I have three daughters and I can rap-“

“No,” she said, “I know that. Tell me something deeper.”

He shrugged and took a moment to find his words. “I like the colour blue.”

“Ok.”

“I like hip-hop.”

“Ok.”

“And I think you’re pretty,” he said with a smirk.

Y/N smiled lightly but not a wide bodacious rather a simple and delicate smile. Like it was the first time she had ever heard those words come from the boy.

“I think you’re unique, independent and admirable,” he whispered. They faced one another with the middle console keeping them apart. However, with every word that came from his thin lips, he inched closer. Marshall reached out and grasped the piece of hair that was by her ear and slowly, he tucked it.

“You’re smart, snarky with humour. You’re not scared to ask what you want. However,” he pulled away, “you have a lot of darkness that takes the lightness from your eyes, and I want to know.

Y/N paused. Her smile faded slowly, and she looked at him with a serious demeanour.

“You don’t know me,” she whispered.

“Nor do you with me but I would like to.”

“I want to know your demons, Marshall.”

He shook his head and snickered lightly. He did not know how to answer that comment. A woman who was half his age sat here, young and ambitious saying she wanted to get to know him. Marshall knew better. She was momentarily. She was a blip in his world. However, he was attracted to this blip and wanted her to last just enough to potentially make him happy then she would walk as she was a twenty-one-year-old with her whole life ahead of her.

Therefore, he nodded.

“I would like to know yours too,” he said as he tucked the other side of her hair away. “Three times we ran into each other, quite potentially the universe has something to say.”

Whoever made this world had something to meddle with this relationship.

“Why art history?” he asked eventually as they stared at one another.

“Because there is beauty in art and the artists are so thoughtful. There is so much in a painting, a story to be told. Symbolism and analogies. You can read a whole story in just one painting. Why music? It is similar. You share an experience, a thought, an emotion, an opinion and a message all in rhythm, lyrics and beat. It is an art.”

Marshall admired her. The way she said it was with such utter love and devotion. However, as he was about to open his mouth her phone rang.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “it’s Sam.” As she said that he could not help but let his heart fall slightly. Y/N brought the phone to her ear and answered, “Hello.”

“Hey. I swung by your house to see if you were home and you were not. So was just checking-“

“I am fine. I am with Marshall,” she said so innocently.

“Oh, Marshall like Eminem Marshall?”

“Yeah.”

“No offence, Y/N, but he is Eminem. He is just trying to fuck you. He is going to hurt you.”

Y/N sighed, and it was clear Marshall could overhear the conversation. His face fell and instead, his brows furrowed with being offended. She opened the door to step out of the car to have this personal conversation, but Marshall followed by opening the door to see her rolling her eyes and kicking the ground.

“Sam, why does that matter to you? We are literally just fooling around.”

“Well, I have been trying to get more out of you-“

“I made it so clear I was not looking for something serious.”

“Look, if you want to be a whore, be a fucking whore for Em but don’t fucking complain if he is a fucking ass to you,” he snapped. “Enjoy getting dicked down by Eminem.” Then he hung up.

Marshall crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Y/N’s unimpressed face as she pocketed her phone.

“According to Sam I am a whore for hanging out with you,” she stated with a chuckle. “Fucking men I tell you,” she whispered the last part. “Can’t deal with fucking competition.”

Marshall raised a brow and nodded. “He called you a whore?”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Like that would hurt. I have been called worse.”

Marshall had a grimace before his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He called her a whore. He called her a whore and a piece of him was angered, upset and more importantly infuriated.

This was Y/N. Sweet, sweet, genuine Y/N.

“Cut it off,” he stated with his arms crossed. “Cut the whole relationship off.”

Y/N gave him a look of disbelief and utter ignorance before sighing. “I can’t. I’ll be the ass.”

“Then be the ass,” he was serious. Completely and terrifying serious. ‘Be an ass.’ He would be. He would 100% be ass.

How dare he say such an ugly word to the most beautiful girl.

Y/N sighed and shook her head. There was some sympathy in her and to be a complete bitch was not in her cards of the night, but she had a boy in front of her. A handsome, mature and utterly devoted man who was telling her, whispering her the truth.

“He just wants my cunt, doesn’t he?” she asked.

What a dirty word for such a girl. He was taken aback by the comment, but he could not display that. She was beauty and she was grace.

They stood in the parking lot at the local park. She had tears welling up in her eyes and him looking as if the most beautiful girl just walked into the room.

It’s been years since he loved, but this devil walked in with cashmere and cream with devotion and adoration laced in her simple but beautiful eyes. A wonder with prospects of horror but he wanted her in ways he could not communicate.

“He is a boy,” he whispered as he took a step.

“And I am a girl,” she replied, “so…”

“A girl does not need a boy. She does not need a man,” he stated, “she needs wonder, acceptance,” he took another step, “and someone with an open mind.”

Y/N scoffed. “You’re saying I need someone.”

“You do.”

Y/N kicked the ground before glancing up at him. “You’re the man who has not dated since his ex-wife. You’re the epitome of being alone and yet, you’re standing in front of me with-“

“You’re young.”

Another loud scoff came from her. “Not like I have heard that before.”

Marshall sighed. “This is coming across as wrong.”

“I do not need someone to achieve the goals I want. I don’t need Sam.”

This was coming out wrong and the girl in front of him did not understand.

“Y/N,” he said then took a break, “don’t…” he took a breath, “don’t think you need someone when you’re capable of achieving something on your own.” He waited. “You’re responsible for your own success.”

Her frown turned slightly from solemn to emotionless to smile. “You’re a lonely man, Mr. Mathers.”

He shrugged. “I don’t sleep around-“

“You used to.”

“I did.”

“But that is the past.”

“Indeed. I am grown now.”

“And I am not?”

“Never said that. Sleep with who you like but don’t be used.”

“Sam is nice.”

“Sam is obsessed with you.” A pause. “You don’t need that.”

“I like the attention.”

“Then that’s your own issues shining through,” he commented then took a step. “I want to be your friend, Y/N, if you have me.”

“Usually, people do not propose friendship to me. We usually just become friends.”

“Call me old fashioned then,” he said with a shrug.

“You want to be friends with me?” she said with disbelief and slowly. “Me?”

“Yes.”           

“The overworked came from a single mom, a student who is half your age?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

Then she smiled and not just a small, happy smile but rather and impressed smile.

“I would like that, Marshall Mathers.”

“What’s your full name?”

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.”

“Then Miss. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N will you do the honours of being my friend.”

“I consent.”

-

There you go chapter two!

Much love,

Ava

[blues824]

Snake and Love hashira and Poly!Bi!reader unrequited love!

The cannon lovers don't take notice of reader's love for both of them! As reader been obliviously showing their love for the two... sooner or later reader stops their efforts unnoticeable and get kind of sad about it...

reader can have a sad ending of dying by (demon, self inflicted, Died of unknown like illness ect..) their crow delivered the message of their death while also giving all the hashira a long letter! Mini reactions of all letters! The letters are their feelings towards all the hashira even if they didn't talk much!

Angst is what I am feeling sorry y'all fluff lovers out there!

Your cause of death is up to your interpretation.

Gyomei Himejima

He had someone read it to him for obvious reasons

Cried more than usual

You didn’t talk much, but it still hurt

From that point on, he made sure your memory was honored

Mitsuri Kanroji

Upon finding out that you loved both her and Obanai, she wept

For days on end, she cried

She was unconsolable

Keeps your haori if it was recoverable

Giyu Tomioka

Even though he tried not to get attached to people

He thought you were an exception

You were his friend, and now you are gone

Learned his lesson the hard way, I guess

Tengen Uzui

Well, this wasn’t a very flamboyant situation

His wives wept at the death of their friend

However, no tears left the Sound Hashira’s eyes

He was simply in shock

Sanemi Shinazugawa

You were the person who got him closer to his younger brother

Now you were gone

He tried his hardest not to cry

But goddamn it was hard

Shinobu Kocho

Once she saw your crow, she knew what happened

She just felt tired 

Tired of losing the people that she loves

Tired of mourning those she has lost

Kyojuro Rengoku

Another fallen comrade in arms

It’s not an uncommon thing, but he didn’t expect it to be you

He lets a few tears fall as he reads the letter

You knew you weren’t coming back 

Obanai Iguro

When he read your written confession, he went into shock 

Kaburamaru started hissing sadly

At night, he weeps because he hadn’t known about your feelings

It’s too late now. You’re gone

Muichiro Tokito

The first time anyone saw him snap back to reality

No, this will not be an Eminem reference

He didn’t know you well, but you have fought many battles together

He places some flowers upon your burial site

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part One

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Hey! First time writing for Em so I figured I'd use a side account and see how it went? Honestly this is a whole series in my mind so might add onto this first part soon! An oc character but can be read as a reader insert if you prefer:)

Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

Warnings: Lots of swearing, dark humour

Masterlist

I was mortified.

More so than I’d probably ever been, in truth. All because of a stupid video that had been taken a couple of years back when I’d had one drink too many on a holiday I’d always dreamt of.

To be fair though, the majority of the blame lied heavily on my younger sister’s shoulders, who’d found the stupid thing whilst reminiscing through old memories and thought it would be hilarious to post online. Forgetting about the millions of fans who would soon see it– and not just mine, it would seem.

No, because that just wasn’t how the internet worked, was it? And when a newly nominated artist, who had only been in the game for a couple years, was filmed rapping an old noughties classic instead of singing like expected, it was basically bound to go viral. Didn’t help that I was a Londoner through and through and had the accent to prove it, making the whole video that much harder to watch. In truth, I continued to cringe each time I was reminded of it, which was practically anytime I opened up social media or witnessed the guilty expression that continued to mar my sister’s face.

“Stop doing that.” I huffed at her later on when the worst of it still continued to storm on, almost whining actually as I looked away from my phone screen and down at the food I wasn’t really eating, just picking at. I was supposed to be mad, infuriated even, but it was proving to be a fucking chore when she kept on looking at me like that.

“Doing what?” Lottie retorted, not even attempting to wipe the culpable look from off of her face. She was currently residing back at mum’s now, seeing as how she had school and I’d only just landed back home, but I’d give it a day before she was back here again. My flight over had been strenuous, it always was when flying to and from Cali, but still I made time for her– even after the most recent stunt she had gone and pulled.

“Don’t do that either.” 

I’d meant to sound scolding but the soft laugh that escaped me truly was accidental. I couldn’t quite help it, I knew that being mad at her wouldn’t solve anything now and that she hadn’t really meant any harm by posting the video. That was just the type of person she was, she acted before she thought things through and didn’t ever think much for the consequences. Then again, she was still only fourteen and her putting the drunken moment on her Instagram story had just been one of those sibling type moments, the kind where you’d rip the piss out of one another simply because you could.

“I mean it, Lotts.” I sighed around the words, eyes flitting back to the screen and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. “It’s being sorted and, I don't know, I guess it’ll die down sooner or later. Mila reckons so anyway. We’ll give it a day or two, hey?”

A day or two did pass. And no such thing happened.

I’d been cooped up at home ever since I’d touched down at Heathrow, having jumped in the first cab available and fallen asleep the second I’d gotten in through the door. I’d been working out in LA for a couple weeks with a few other writers, just messing about with new sounds and ideas for the next album I eventually wanted to release. So I hadn’t been witness to the media catastrophe Lottie had created until later the next afternoon when Mila, my manager, had all but mowed down my front door, having called my phone three dozen times and gotten a guy she was currently seeing in the city to come buzz my intercom. It had been a wake up call and a half to say the least.

Still, she had assumed it would all die down fairly quickly, went as far to say that it could do wonders for my career– even with me being visibly tipsy– after having had the absolute gall to say that I hadn’t sounded half as bad as I thought I did. I’d cackled hysterically into the phone at that, then had somewhat of a meltdown, in utter disbelief over the apparent reaction she claimed the video had gone and garnered. Because I was absolutely not looking. Knew that if I did there would be too large a chance that I’d check myself into the nearest psychiatric unit. 

But as I said, a couple of days had passed and typically something like this would have eventually blown over when the next big story hit the headlines. White girl can spit a verse, who cared? Only then the VMA’s had happened and shit hit the fucking fan.

I hadn’t attended, shit like that had always irked me. I could perform in front of a crowd of thousands and step off feeling as high as a kite, but stick me on a carpet and force me to interact with cameras, questions, and people? That was where I drew the line.

At the start, I had tried. I’d been new on the scene and people had reasoned that I would just end up being another one hit wonder, so the label had figured it best if I got myself out there, if only to interact with other artists and producers in similar circles.

It had gone down a treat– like a cake being knocked over at the wedding of the year. Maybe even worse. I didn’t like to linger too long on it.

But I’d tried again and again afterwards, although it had only proven to worsen my mood each time and forced me to retreat, avoiding my team and the responsibilities I had lined up for a short while after. It was only following a particularly uncomfortable night that Mila had called it quits and had a contract drawn up stating that I only had to attend a certain amount of events a year. It had been at that moment that I’d realised just how fucked I would have been in this industry without her.

Even so, life still continued on without me and the VMA’s were just another show I would be mostly avoiding, only making a statement at the end of the night online for the nominations I’d been gifted.

It was around midnight when I heard the scream.

Lottie was staying with me, typical for whenever I was back in London for a few weeks at a time, and so I’d felt my heart literally drop to my feet at the very sound of her screech and legged it across the entirety of the house. At first, I’d thought she’d slipped and fallen, maybe cracked her head open on a counter. And then the thought of an intruder had crossed my mind whilst I’d gone skidding over the landing. So anyone could understand why I was so worked up when I finally threw open her bedroom door only to find her simply sat there on her phone, hand covering her mouth.

“What the hell is your problem? It’s just gone twelve, Lottie! I thought something had happened!” I rebuked her, chest heaving as I dropped the heavy bookend I’d managed to pick up somewhere on my way over down onto her desk. “Shit.”

Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them though when I finally did get around to catching my breath and chanced another glance back at her.

“I was literally just about to fall asleep.” Which really meant that I’d been getting into bed to scroll through my phone or read a book when I’d heard her shout. “Then you screamed as though Freddy Krueger was stood at your window.”

“Elia.” 

I blinked, Lottie rarely did that, used my entire name and not the usual shortened version or whatever other epithet that came to mind– and truly, there was a large variety, the shit I’d heard this kid come out with was insane. But I shook my head at the thought and quirked a brow at her. “What? Did someone die?”

“No,” She answered me, dropping her hand away from her face even though her jaw was still gaping, “But I just might.”

Rolling my eyes at the theatrics, I exhaled and walked over to slump on the end of her bed, figuring that something had happened between her and one of her friends, or maybe some lad she might’ve been speaking to. “And it deserved a scream like that? Honestly Lotts, just be thankful this place doesn’t have any neighbours listening in through the walls.” I told her, thinking back to my own adolescent years and the woman in the flat beside ours, “We’d have someone knocking at the door in under a half hour.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes then as she scoffed at me– like I was the one being dramatic here– before she then shook her head and shuffled hurriedly over the mattress to sit closer. “No Lia, just listen, look.”

Confused, I sighed and tilted my head when Lottie moved to shove her mobile in my face. I squinted at the sudden contrast, showing off my age and the horrific tragedy that was my eyesight, and tried to make sense of whatever it was that she was so hellbent on showing me. 

From what I could first make out, it was just a Twitter thread, but then Lotts then clicked on the main video at the top. I waited as the clip buffered for a second, then a familiar face panned into focus and I felt my brow furrow. I peered over at Lottie for a split second before her eyes were widening in retort and she gestured her chin back towards the screen.

I narrowed my own eyes in turn, but watched on.

It had to be a coincidence, I reasoned. That of all people it was him that Lottie was currently showing me.

“Well, aren’t we in for a show tonight! Eminem is in the house, people!” An interviewer started, she was a tall, leggy blonde who held a too big microphone too close to her chin. “How are you feeling?”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was to see him on the VMA’s carpet, not after the comeback he’d made late last year with LP 2, but I was, eyes caught on the bleached buzz cut he’d since reverted back to for the album’s release. Fuck, I’d be so pissed if it came out that he was performing tonight and I’d gone ahead and missed it.

Lottie thumped my shoulder, hard, realising fairly quickly that I hadn’t really been listening, and so I scowled in retort but gritted my teeth to keep from thumping her right back. She might’ve been my sister, but I had well over a decade on the kid and was marginally her guardian, just not in writing.

The rapper had seemingly just finished commenting on a question the tall blonde had asked him and so I forced myself to pay closer attention, brain whirling as I wondered what could have possibly been so important that it had Lottie screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

“I feel that!” The woman practically beamed at the rapper, head nodding along to whatever he’d just said, “But it’s good to hear that you’re enjoying being back. In truth, I wasn’t sure I’d catch you here tonight, there’s been a lot of buzz surrounding you at the moment and not just because of the album!”

My heart stuttered in my chest. Actually, I was pretty sure it had gone and fallen out of my arse, especially when the interviewer continued to press on the topic and it appeared as though the man in question understood exactly what she was getting at. His stoic facade cracked just a tad and– there! A smirk. An ever so slight crook of his mouth. I shot a startled glance over at Lottie but her gaze was fixated on the screen.

“I mean, have you seen it?” The interviewer prompted whilst he simply stood there, fisted hands clasped before him. No sign of the split second curve he’d just had on his lips. “The whole world’s been wondering about your thoughts on the singer!”

And there it was.

“I can’t,” I started to say, turning away from the phone just as a rush of nausea flooded through me, but Lottie held strong, hand coming up to catch my shoulder so that she could position her phone back in my eyeline. “Lottie–” I tried. Please.

“Just listen.” She persisted, face so serious.

Immediately I wanted to rescind my earlier statement. This was now my most mortifying moment. In fact, I wanted to hide in the nearest cupboard and never come out again. How the fuck was I going to show my face in public, not to mention at the next event, after this?

I swallowed thickly, entirely unprepared to hear a word he had to say about me. I mean, who would be? This man was leagues above a majority of the industry, me included. Never had I ever even thought that he could hear my name in passing, let alone listen to one of my songs playing in some shop he was coincidentally in or a random radio station. But here he now was, rolling his lips as he pondered over a question which concerned that stupid fucking video. 

“I hate you.” I whispered at Lottie, mostly in hopes to cover up whatever he was about to say, but also because I was embarrassed beyond belief. And this was all her fault.

In the time spent since the drunken video had first gone up and now, I had yet to even think about him ever seeing it. Because the idea was that far fetched. But this was me, so of course he had.

“I’ve heard it.” Marshall confirmed, his head dipped in a barely there nod. My throat cinched. I wondered briefly how quickly I’d be able to tie myself a noose.

“And?” The woman prodded and internally I cursed her future bloodline, hoping that she'd somehow spawn the next antichrist or that her grandchild would become a shit-headed politician.

The man in question merely hummed, hollowing out his cheeks. “I was surprised, I have to admit. But she’s good, even when wasted.”

“I wasn’t fucking wasted!” 

I hadn't even realised I’d spoken out loud until Lottie snorted on a chuckle. I turned towards her, brows raised high, “What? I wasn’t. You were there!”

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t deign me with some sort of assent but my head snapped back over to where she still gripped the phone when I heard him speak again, his voice echoing throughout the quiet bedroom.

“Then again, her shit goes hard. So it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.”

That heart of mine that I kept on talking about? Yeah, I had zero clue as to what the fuck was going on with it now, only that my chest was wound as tight as it possibly could be and my eyes stung as I withheld the urge to even blink.

“You’re a fan?” The woman asked him, appearing genuinely surprised by the notion, even though it sounded more like a declaration rather than the question it was.

Marshall hummed, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder when a group shuffled on past them, disrupting the interview. It didn’t deter the woman though and I couldn’t blame her, no matter how much it pained me.

“So, could this mean we’ll be seeing a new featured artist on whatever you put out next?”

I made some sort of inhuman sound at that, but barely moved a muscle. And then I all but shutdown when the rapper's wide eyes flickered over to peer straight into the camera’s lens, “I mean, if she’s down.”

The next scream that was emitted once again came from Lottie, but I couldn’t think to scold her for it, not when I was hardly even functioning and wanted to implode myself. 

The girl toppled over onto me, shaking my shoulders whilst she squealed unabashedly. “If. She’s. Down!” She repeated, squealing with excitement, “El, this is insane! How are you not screaming too?”

The air I forced from my lungs came out in a breathless chuckle as I clung to the forearm that was still wrapped around my collar. In truth, I didn’t know how the hell I was supposed to react. 

“Figure you’ve screamed enough for the both of us.” I replied faintly, not really thinking but somehow managing to carry on, mostly out of sheer shock. I glanced her way, “I feel a bit sick.”

Lottie just shook me harder and when we eventually went falling down onto the duvet in a mess of limbs I wondered what I was going to do with the knowledge that I’d just been given. God. He knew who I was. The shock of it was almost like reliving my first time on stage all over again.

That night I ended up listening to Lottie rant on and on for a good while after whilst she scrolled through her Twitter feed and the rest of the internet. Mila eventually intervened, calling after having seen it too, and was as smug as ever. “Told you.” She’d said the second I’d hit the answer button and I hadn’t had the heart to play it off or act as though I hadn’t seen it either. 

After the interview eventually finished trending and stopped being posted here, there, and everywhere, I was left with a flow of new followers but also a nightmare of opinions spouting from every corner of the planet on any comment section I had to offer. I forced myself to come off most apps I had downloaded after that and resorted to gaining my daily entertainment, and any real news, from Lottie. Which seemed sad, in retrospect, but honestly? It was more than a little self-serving and I’d even managed to get a shit load of stuff done.

I worked on a couple new songs, sticking to what I did best, but my mind did end up drifting away every so often, back to a conversation I’d had with Mila and Travis at the label a couple days after the media storm had passed. It seemed they all wanted me to try implementing a few new concepts into the music I was currently working on before we started to draw up ideas for the next album. Travis reasoned that even attempting to add a couple freestyles into the motions whilst I went about writing would do me wonders later on. 

I just felt uncomfortable with it all, really. I’d never been a rapper. I mean, I loved it. It was mainly what I’d been brought up on, having grown up in an area where every kid on the estate was either attempting to become the next big thing or just blaring the biggest hits out of their car stereos. But that was just it. I listened and sang along, had even built up an extensive collection which I was immensely proud of, but the label were now aiming for this next album to make it onto a Grammy nominations list. It was all they had been fretting over since I’d somehow managed to chart the last one– although a single number one and an almost throw away making it to number seven didn’t make me all that hopeful. 

Even so, it forced me to wonder how it would all work if I started to switch things up now. I could appreciate all genres but I didn’t wanna become the next hopper just to appease the people yessing me and then fall off.

The entire concept had me confused and so I had taken to keeping my head down for a while longer.

Lottie had headed back to mum’s earlier that morning, seeing as I was due to make an appearance in Paris for Fashion Week, attending the Vogue show alongside Vivienne Westwood. An utter dream, yes, but also still an incredibly daunting reality. Even so, it was something I couldn’t quite worm my way out of even if I had wanted to– see, with that contract there still came clauses.

I’d been prepping for my upcoming early morning flight most of the day, showering later on than anticipated just so that I could pack my case and eat before I eventually climbed into bed. Hoping to somehow get a couple hours kip.

I’d thrown on a robe and kept the speakers blaring once I’d eventually jumped out from under the spray, wet hair curling at the ends as I worked on throwing something quick together in my kitchen.

It wasn't long before I went and took the bowl I’d just made out into the living room with me, simply so that I could curl up on the settee and wrap up the few emails I’d been working on earlier. I was just nodding along and humming to the next song that played through the overhead speakers when my phone started to buzz against my ankle, shooting a funny feeling up through the bone. I was quick to pick it up, wrinkling my nose at the feel and not paying much mind to the caller, figuring it had to be either Mila or Lottie.

“Hello?”

There was a short pause as I shifted the phone against my ear before a voice eventually sounded, “This Elia?”

Frowning, I casted a quick glance at the phone’s screen to find a number with an unfamiliar area code staring back at me. I let my gaze stray on over towards a clock I had hanging on the far wall only to find that it had just gone eight. 

I fumbled for a moment, “Um. It is, can I ask who’s calling?”

A low cough rumbled through the line before the same voice spoke again, I shuffled to set my laptop off to the side on the sofa, brow furrowed. “It’s Em– Marshall.”

Suddenly my head felt so very empty and my mouth was working around words that couldn't seem to find their way out. Em. The Em?? Fucking, Em?

I’d obviously been quiet a beat too long, drowning in the sudden panic that had shrouded me, because he spoke up again, “That Nas playin’?”

I shot a startled glance over my shoulder to where the fancy sound system was installed, the biggest reason I’d gone and purchased the home, in truth, and was immediately reminded of the music I had piercing through the air. Clumsily, I rolled off of the corner of the settee so that I could stumble over to turn the thing off, doing exactly that before I was forced to blink at the sudden silence that greeted me.

I winced and was quick to turn the music back on, keeping it low. All the while I still held my phone close to my chest.

“Uh, yeah. Hi!” I blundered helplessly after a moment, carding a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the empty wall before me stupidly. I wasn’t sure what to say, let alone do. I could sort of wrap my head around the interview, his brief mention of me. But a fucking phone call? It was on another level.

He chuckled though, enough so that I felt myself flush bashfully at my obvious awkwardness and forced my body to move back towards the sofa, if only so that I didn’t have to stand on shaky legs anymore. 

“Hi.” He mimicked, voice low albeit a tad amused.

I smiled. Unable to do anything but, in all honesty, as I lowered myself down onto the cushions, vaguely aware that I should probably be saying something else now that he’d gone and replied, but was simply more than a little caught off guard by everything. 

“Sorry, I– Well, I didn’t expect your call. Or anyones really.” I murmured, trying my best to shake off the nerves that were apparently wreaking havoc on my brain to mouth filter. “I just jumped out of the shower, had yet to turn off the stereo. Sorry.” How many times had I just apologised? I wanted to scream.

“You’re good.” He assured me, voice unlike what I probably would have expected and so I blinked once more at the sound of it, reminded that it was actually him I was talking to. But all that was fluttering through my head was ‘what the fuck are you doing calling me?’ “Nice choice, I gotta say. This an alright time for you to talk? I don’t wanna disturb you much.”

My eyes widened at both the compliment in song choice and well, him. Then withheld another sudden urge to scream, the hand not holding my phone clenching into a tight fist against my chest. “No, no, of course not. I mean, you’re fine! Not disturbing me at all.”

His next reply sounded more than just a little mirthful, “Sure ‘bout that?”

I willed myself to relax and took an inconspicuous breath as I pulled my legs back up under me. “I’m sure.” I told him, laughing lightly at myself for being so socially inept– or maybe it was just this entire scenario I’d been shoved into. “How’d you even get my number anyway?” 

I hadn’t meant for it to sound so forceful or abrupt, but it had been yet another question my sluggish brain hadn’t been able to find an answer to. 

“Mila?” He answered me, and I blinked stupidly at the name. “We had a mutual contact, figured I’d chance askin’ her instead of gettin’ lost in your DM’s. That cool? She said she’d let you know.”

The conniving cow, I thought to myself, though I wouldn’t have put it past her to have reasoned with herself that I would’ve probably freaked out if she had told me beforehand, before then having proceeded to just let my phone ring out whilst I stared pitifully at it. She knew me all too well. 

“She did not.” I replied through a baited breath, “But no, yeah. You’re alright, just caught me off guard is all. You’re probably the last person I expected to call, if I’m being honest here..”

When I heard him laugh once more I grinned, all too pleased with myself. It was a low gruff sound, not deep enough to be sarcastic or ingenuine, but rather warm. It surprised me.

“Oh yeah? Even after everything that’s gone down lately?”

My eyes slipped closed at the instantaneous reminder and I winced. The video. Honestly, in the whirlwind that wasn’t just my life at the moment, but this phone call too, I could have almost forgotten about it.

“I still can’t believe you saw that.”

Marshall let go of another amused huff that I figured to be a chuckle, breathing in deep enough that he forced me to wait on his next words. “I don’t lie. I meant what I said. But tell me, how many drinks d’you have in you?”

I curled my tongue against the back of my teeth in hopes to keep from grinning too hard, feeling a slight sting at the tip. “I was tipsy.” I argued pointlessly, knowing it would be a tireless venture, “I’d only had a couple.”

He hummed, seemingly not convinced.

“It was years ago, too!” I felt the need to tack on, the rosy hue the alcohol had given my cheeks sprung to mind and made me wonder. My face wrinkled as I dragged a helpless hand across it. “Who even sent it to you?”

“A couple people, actually.” Marshall ended up revealing and his words sounded playful enough that I could almost picture the curl of his mouth. “My daughter was one.”

Without thinking my hand flew up towards my mouth and I shook my head as I let it rest against my palm. “You’re not being serious.”

“Dre too.”

I let go of a hissed curse and crumpled a little bit in my seat before laughing stupidly at myself. If I couldn’t talk myself out of this then I supposed I would just have to get over it. I hoped thinking sensibly would allow me to actually follow through on that sentiment, but I very much doubted it.

Marshall laughed again, slow and easy almost as though he’d shared it with me a hundred times before. “I wasn’t kiddin’ neither. ’s why I called.”

Pulling my head from out of my hands, I wet my lower lip, mind promptly flashing back to the clip Lottie had shown me. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked him, treading cautiously. 

“Listen.” He began, pausing only briefly to inhale before he then added, “I’m workin’ on another album–”

“No.” I interrupted, eyes suddenly wide and alert, “Already?”

A tittered snort followed the disruption but my mind was already reeling. 

“You’re not fucking with me?”

In all honesty I had prepared myself to wait a couple more years for another drop, hoping for him to feature or for someone to send for him if only so that he’d make a track in reply. I’d been obsessed with his recent work, even going as far as to add it onto the tour bus playlist late last year. It had actually been played so much the roadies and the band had threatened to rip the system out. But a new album? Fuck. I hadn’t expected it.

“Who else knows?”

There was a slight click on the other side of the line. Or scuffle. “As of right now? Like six people.”

I swallowed down the understanding that then hit me, but my stomach lurched at the very thought of it. “And I’m one?” I chuckled, holding back the hysterical laughter I felt bubble as my hand fell over my heart, “Wow, I feel honoured, Mathers.” It was teasing, the rib I meant, though my eyes still widened when I realised what I’d gone and said, not wanting him to take it the wrong way. 

I needn’t have worried. 

“As you fuckin’ should be.”

I gave a real laugh at that, almost a full-belly type shit. But could you really blame me? 

I was still smiling as I went to retort, humming with it, “God, you really just went and sprung that shit on me.”

“Hold you to keepin’ it on the low for now.” Marshall said, reminding me how paranoid the press and Hollywood had made him out to be in the past. I wondered how much truth there was in the sentiment. I mean, the man was almost a recluse– not that I could blame him, I was pulled from the same sort of cloth there– but to put a secret like that in my hands? It had to take some amount of faith.

I nodded seriously, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Seemed he could hear the sincerity in my answer though, “‘Course.” I told him and then chewed on my lower lip for a second before a soft snicker escaped me. “That the only reason you called though? I mean, as honoured as I am to be one of the infamous six, I’m surprised you just phoned to let me in on the know. Have I just been roped into some sort of celeb elitist group? Weird initiation.”

His huffed laugh was breathy and made my mouth twitch that little bit more. 

“Nah. You always this weird though?” Marshall wondered and I bared my teeth in a light grimace, figuring I’d gone too far with that one. Or maybe.. I'd just hit the mark? I snorted lightly at the thought.

“It was an honest question! I’ve heard horror stories.” And wasn’t that the truth, events and parties weren’t all about the awards and just getting trollied. Some of those fuckers were as strange as people could come.

The man clucked his tongue, although I could hear the slight smile in his sarky response. “Uhuh. Sorry to disappoint but nah, initiation starts in the belly of LA. Gotta dissect a virgin and drink Ciroc out of their intestines. Funnel that shit down.”

The snort I gave in turn was ugly and loud enough that it forced a hand to fly up and cover my mouth, but it didn’t appear to bother the rapper none, who chuckled before clearing his throat.

“Change this shit to Facetime.” He said not a second after, swiftly cutting short my absurd amusement. “Then we can talk about the album.”

I fumbled for a moment. “I look a mess.”

“Good thing this ain’t a fuckin’ fashion show then.” He only pressed, “You think I give a shit what you look like right now?”

That struck an odd chord in me for some reason, but I didn’t want to linger much on the feeling. “No. But I do, dickhead. It’s half eight at night, I have sudocrem on my face and I look like a dog off of Lady and the Tramp.”

I was so flustered by the very thought of acquiescing to the man’s demand that I didn’t even think much of the name I’d gone and called him. 

“Again, do I give a shit? And what did you just call me?”

I paused, reeling back to whatever it was I’d just spouted at him. Upon rehashing my words I felt my tongue press between my lips to keep from laughing loudly, if Mila or Lottie had been there I’d already be strung up by a pair of metaphorical balls. 

“You heard me fine.” I brushed it off, if he wanted to call me out of the blue and act all chummy then chummy was what he’d get.

Besides it wasn’t like I’d meant the term maliciously, I used that type of endearment with everybody. Something my manager had tried and failed to force out of me time and time again.

“But back to this whole ‘seeing my mug thing’. Not happening, mate. Why couldn’t you have called like, six hours ago? I looked like an actual person then.”

“Dickhead.” He muttered beneath his breath, barely even loud enough for me to have heard him and I could only guess that he was shaking his head with it, hopefully somewhat amused. “You ain’t an actual person then?” He said in reply, forgoing the name calling for now, “Figures, you give off lizard vibes.”

“Fuck you!” My laugh was sudden, jaw having dropped a tad at the quip. “Lizard vibes, the fuck are you then? And yes, an actual person! You can’t just call people, drop a bomb, and then demand things!”

“Shit typically works.” He quipped all too quickly that it had me shaking my head around another quiet smile of my own. “Just entertain me though, for a moment.”

My head fell back against the arm of the sofa, eyes casted towards the high ceiling which loomed above. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually considering it.

He didn’t even have to goad me before I relented. I huffed, blowing a strand of hair from out of my face as I sat back up, “Fine. Just gimme a sec.” 

He hummed.

Elbowing my way off the settee I skidded over to the closest mirror, dragged a hand through my mostly dried hair and made sure that I didn’t have racoon eyes from any lingering mascara I’d had on before my shower. The patches of sudocrem would have to stay though, I deemed, seeing as he already knew about those. 

I gave up on the preening and sighed as I fell back onto the sofa, thankful for the dim lights the living room offered in that moment. It was just as I was switching the call though that a thought hit me, making me question if the reason he’d asked me to start the Facetime was due to him wanting to give me the option to turn it down or simply because he had no idea how to do it himself. “Still there, old man?”

A scoff echoed into the room before my phone screen stuttered and I was left staring at the sharp lines of his face. It wasn’t like I hadn’t actually believed it was him I was talking to, but seeing the man was another thing altogether. He was a real person and that idea alone had me reeling. 

I wrinkled my nose almost shyly around a smile when that sharp gaze of his slid away from something behind the camera to meet mine. He tilted his head to look me over, the hood of his jumper moving with the motion. 

“I was right about the lizard thing.” Was the only greeting he offered me, jutting his chin out as he feigned all seriousness. 

My mouth dropped open upon hearing him and my tongue quickly flicked out towards a canine to keep from biting back at him. There was humour written in the gesture though, even as I moved to narrow my eyes. “He’s got jokes! Reused ones, I might add, but jokes nonetheless.” I snarked, lifting my eyebrows at him in exaggeration, “Hilarious.”

His mouth curled very, very briefly, but I was quick to work out that it was all in the eyes with him. They held a certain amount of mirth as they flickered over my face. I wondered what he saw. 

“Suits you though. Even with all the…” He waved a hand over his own face, probably referencing the white dots I had littered in a few places.

With a shake of my head I raised a hand to my chest, feigning a fond appreciation for the sardonic comment. “Is that the famous charm the world’s heard so much about then? Really know how to make a girl feel special, Mathers.”

His eyes slitted but still shone with a slight glaze, he hummed deeply in retort. “Best believe it. Why d’you think I’ve gotten divorced twice?”

A low whistle escaped me before I then laughed, eyes squinting with the strength of it. “Figured you might just have a kink for courtrooms.” 

His tongue swept into his cheek at my boldness, fighting back a real smile as he glanced away and then back again. “I’m down bad for a good Judge. Spank me vibes, you know?”

I chuckled outwardly at that, amused by his quick witted replies. But that in itself didn’t surprise me, it was well known just how hilarious the man could be, his stoic demeanour only prodding that revelation further. 

That sternness his face seemed to consistently hold softened though in that next moment and I watched on as he shuffled a little closer to the camera, sat somewhere indoors with enough natural light that he could have only been in his kitchen. It hit me then how wild this whole thing suddenly was. “What’s with the last name anyway?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his ask. “Um,” I fumbled, a slight wrinkle forming between my brow, “What do you mean, me calling you Mathers?”

He hummed and I had to think about it for a second. Ultimately I ended up gifting him a shrug, “Don’t know. Just feels strange to call you Eminem or whatever.” I laughed lightly at myself, hand falling to my knee to toy with a loose thread on the hem of my robe. “What do people usually call you?”

It was his turn to shrug then, his being a singular and fluid motion whereas mine had been more thoughtless. He was watching again though, the wide eyes I was so used to seeing in old interviews where he was always playing a part were now gentler, narrowed sure, but softer and slightly wrinkled at the very edges.

I tugged on the frayed thread, wrapping it around my finger enough to whiten the skin before I had to let it go again. “Is Em okay? Or just Marshall maybe?” I queried, watching him too.

“Whatever you want.” He murmured and it was then that I noticed he’d propped his phone up somewhere in front of him because a pair of hands came to rest at the bottom of the screen just as he pressed further into the counter he was sat at.

I wrung my lips to one side, teeth biting into the inside of my cheek enough to keep from smiling much more than I already was. “Most people call me El or Lia. Elia just started to feel unnatural away from, you know, everyone else.”

It was the worlds now, as well as one of few reasons I had for the stigma I felt around my own name. 

The man jerked his head in a short nod in response whilst his fingers intertwined against a marble countertop. “So we should just slide that into the writin’ credits then? Or you finally gone take me up on that offer of a feature?”

You know that odd feeling you get when you’re on the tube or a plane and so suddenly your ears just pop and there's this ringing sound that floods the single sense? It just happens, out of nowhere, and you blink. So all you can immediately focus on is the sound. The odd feeling of it driving waves deeper and deeper into your skull. And the only way you can recover is by holding your own breath?

That was what that question felt like to me. 

“What?”

His eyes were alight, akin to a low flame of flickering amusement and perhaps hope. “You deaf now too? Know you heard me.”

Of course I fucking heard him but that didn’t mean I understood. “This is for real?”

Finally, he let go of a dulcet chuckle, almost a ringing sound in and of itself. “You gone make me repeat it? You in, or not?”

“How is that even a question?” I breathed back to him, my hand shaking against the hem of my robe. “Yes! God, if I ever say to no to an ask like that you better fucking shoot me. What the fuck, Marshall?”

That chuckle again.

It was unlike anything else, the only sound I could hear around the blood rushing between my ears. Stupidly, I pinched my thigh and released a stuttered breath when the twist of skin radiated a short snap of pain up my leg.

“That the go ahead then?”

I must’ve looked so incredibly starstruck but I couldn’t even bring myself to care, this was unreal. I nodded, almost frantically at him. “Of course that’s the fucking go ahead! Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I mostly write radio shit.”

“Your earlier stuff ain’t.” Em shot back, the quip startling me enough to snap my jaw shut because not a lot of people ever dug that deep. But he continued on before I could think to hone in on the slip, “‘sides, your lyrics are what I fuck with. That shit makes you think, has you lingerin’. Playing with words is the aim, I want people thinkin’, leachin’ onto each syllable and every phrase. You do that.”

The air in my lungs lurched.

I could only offer him one reply, “When do we start?”

[whydoyoucare866]

Moonlight

PAIRINGS:

Titans!Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce’s goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn’t know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

A/N: in this story Dick and Jason will not have such a big age gap as they do in the show, Dick will be 23 while Jason will be 19, but for the sake of the plot it will, also ignore that there’s already a dc character called moonlight, also the powers I made up for her make no sense at all but we’ll have to deal with it.

TWS: slow burn, angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven’t decided yet) change of plot

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Superman by Eminem was playing as the car Bruce sent to get you from the airport approached the gothic styled manor you hadn't seen in a year or so, the way everything looked the same brought you a sense of comfort, you knew Dick wasn’t Robin anymore, you were really close to Dick and he had told you all about how Bruce was a bad father and how he didn’t want to become him, you understood him, although you couldn’t help but feel bad for Bruce, you knew he was trying his best and he may not have been the best father, but he was a great godfather, it probably was because he wasn’t 100% responsible of you, he didn’t have to teach you about emotions, life, problems, or shit like that, he just had to spoil you and talk to you, so it was probably easier for him.

As you grew closer to the manor you noticed that Bruce and Alfred were already waiting for you by the door with some guy, he looked a little bit younger than you, but not too much, you couldn’t see him very well from the distance, but he seemed to be in casual clothes so you assumed he lived here, he was probably another stray that Bruce took in after Dick left so you paid it no mind. Eventually you arrived to the mansion and you could cry, it had been a year since you had last seen Bruce and Alfred, it had been a year since your dad had died, he was the only parent you ever knew, your mom wasn’t a deadbeat who abandoned you or anything like that, but she wasn’t “normal” she had special abilities (which you also have) that you didn’t know were special until you showed them to a boy in kindergarten and made him cry out of fear, at that moment you didn’t get why the boy had cried when you just tried to show him how your hands could glow, you then got a long talk from your mom about how most people don’t have the same abilities as you, therefore you have to keep them a secret, otherwise people would be scared or even worse it would put you at risk because there were bad people who wanted those abilities for themselves. You learned to take the talk seriously when your mom got killed by some scientist who wanted to have her powers and it was all thanks to not hiding them too well, leaving your dad and yourself on your own.

The sound of the car’s door opening pulled you out of your thoughts, and you immediately started getting off the car, you started walking towards the entrance of the Manor and all of the memories came flooding back making you emotional, you approached Bruce and just crashed into him with a hug, he became stiff, but he tried to comfort you as you cried in his arms, you hadn’t seen him ever since your dad had died, you had ran away from your problems and went to Europe for a year thinking it would help, but it didn’t, you were completely alone at Europe, at least here in Gotham you had Bruce and Dick and Alfred, you weren’t completely alone, but over there you were, and it just made you realize how much you missed and appreciated them.

When you calmed down, you moved on to Alfred who looked just as neat as always and also hugged him tight, after all Alfred reminded you of a loving grandfather and always gave you comfort, Alfred pulled away and excused himself to bake your favorite desserts, just like he always did whenever you were sad, it all felt so familiar that you felt comfort for the first time in a year. After hugging Bruce and Alfred and breaking down you realized there was still a boy who probably didn’t know who you were and had to witness you being a mess as his first impression of you, poor boy probably would be really uncomfortable after seeing a stranger come into his house and break down while he just stood there, the thought of it made you feel embarrassed making the atmosphere really awkward as you just stood staring at each other not knowing what to do, or say, Bruce took on the tense atmosphere and started introducing you to each other in hopes that the tension would fade away. You learned that his name was Jason Todd and he had just gotten taken in a year ago, some months after you left for Europe, Bruce also told you about how he found him and how he was now the new Robin, Jason have you a short nod as his way of saying hi and then Bruce started telling him about you, he told Jason about your abilities and how you were the vigilante known as moonlight which made Jason look excited, Bruce seeing Jason’s reaction told you how he was a fan of Robin and Moonlight and it sparked a bit of pride inside of you, but then made you feel embarrassed as you realized you had probably disappointed the boy by showing him how weak you actually were.

After the introductions finished, Alfred came out telling you all to get inside and to let you go to your room and accommodate, which you thanked him, You loved Bruce and Jason seemed nice, but you were exhausted after flying and you just wanted to get some rest, Alfred guided you to your room as if you hadn’t bern there a thousand times and insisted on carrying your luggage for you even though you said you could handle it.

“Here we are Miss (Y/N), you already know where Master Bruce’s and my rooms are in case you need anything, and if you ever need Master Jason his room is the one that’s right in front of yours in Master Dick’s old room .”

You thanked Alfred who excused himself and went to the kitchen and you decided you were too tired to unpack and that you would do it tomorrow, so you took the book you were reading and your headphones out of your bag and laid down to read a bit, you were really tired and after some pages your eyes started to get really heavy and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26

[xenosagaepisodeone]

it's so funny that this documentary exists. a retrospective on a band that has existed for nearly 30 years that is as tepid as said band's creative output. This is all clearly marketing for I guess younger post-covid nickelback fans who weren't old enough to participate in making fun of nickelback when it was the in thing, but ultimately the documentary has nothing to say because there isnt anything to say. a representative from their label accidentally alludes to this: for a time, nickelback's uncontroversial commercial sound was the only thing keeping the lights on at the studio, and the money they made went on to support the metal artists under the same label (take from that what you will). the beats the doc takes us through are the following: "were small town guys who aggressively marketed and got big because we were in spider-man" "we had some health problems, but we're fine now" "we were a meme and it kind of hurt our feelings, but were fine now" "we had some lows where things were difficult for us creatively, but were fine now". there's even a dramatic point where one band member talks about nervously going back to make amends with a bandmate they had to kick out and....it goes completely fine. No talk of struggles with sex or drugs or family, even! A largely safe, frictionless career, which is probably why this film struggles to escape the confines of it's blatant marketing framing. nickelback was monoculture without a brand in the 2000s (at least Here In Canada). This is How You Remind Me was smattered all over the radio for years (the documentary mentioned at one point nickelback would be played on the radio once ever 3 minutes in the US) but what was nickelback as a band? the exact same as seether or creed or 3 doors down...did I mention that their current drummer is actually the former drummer of 3 doors down? the film is painfully aware that part of the reason why it was so easy to take potshots at nickelback was because of this interchangeable identity but refuses to contend with it. as ryan reynolds proclaims at the beginning and towards the end of the film "it's time to admit nickelback is actually awesome", because if they sound good, what else do they need to really be, right?

if taylor swift is monoculture as horror then nickelback is monoculture as existential horror, specifically. at one point in the doc, chad kroeger says that he doesn't know what he is without nickelback, that the band is more or less his identity, and that all he would be without it is "the guy who makes jokes". this could easily be played up to give some semblance of heart, but I don't think it's necessarily dishonest. at a point, kroeger talks to his brother about how they can't rely on doing covers as often as they do. at his concert he wears band shirts for other bands (not a weird thing on its own btw just in this one context). Hes aware of being "nirvana-lite" and its likely the inspiration behind his infamous ramen hair/beard look. his mom says that being the face of the band is what repels him from getting married or having kids like his brother (do i mention that this doc barely gives a shit about the other members). they mention his brief marriage to fellow canadian export avril lavigne, who is the only person he or his wikipedia article ever reference romantically, and I can't help but wonder if there was some motivation to be a canadian musician power couple behind it all. the documentary predictably makes a big deal about the fact he's from canada, and with the lack of well, Self that is present here I can only assume that "canadian" was meant to fill the slot where "identity" was meant to be.

none of this is even me being mean. I like buttrock. when their songs from the aughts come on the radio, I go "mm...alright" and let it play like i do with old eminem or evanescence. my mom is a nickelback superfan (self professed #1 fan, even) and the copy of All The Right Reasons I bought for her birthday when I was 12 is probably one of the few non-burned cds she still has. and when I ask her what she likes so much about them beyond the passable rock angle, she goes "chad kroeger is so cute n_n"

[pedrostylez]

The Gray: Chapter 1

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 2.3k

chapter warnings etc: NOT CANON JOEL MILLER, Violence, questioning, swearing, flirting (I’m scandalized), pet names including Eminem references and nicknames but not to be associated with the appearance of reader. NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: Only 7 days into July and it is already kicking my ass! I should be back on track soon, but who even knows lol. This series will eventually have smut, but probably not for a few chapters. I love respectful comments and questions, so feel free to ask those or to comment it on this post! Thank you <3

Joel shot you purely because he missed AJ. Anger coursed through him at how quickly he escaped, you in front of him, protecting AJ.  But now a puddle of sweat is starting to form in your collarbone, your skin turning a shade of gray he’s never quite seen before, and you’re still trying to be smart with him. If he was younger he would have thought you were flirting, but he’s too experienced now to know that it’s just a game to save your life. 

His eyes flicked down to where he injured you, a slight improvement noticeable, but he didn’t think it was this slow. His mind reels back to the television from last night, and those Organization commercials trilling in his head. What did they all say about you? Healed in just 30 seconds! She can save anyone!

What a load of shit that was. 

You are shifting in and out of consciousness, slung over Joel’s shoulder with carelessness that makes your chest ache. You want to lift your head, to let the blood rush out of your skull, and to give some relief, but it’s too much effort to even try.  Every time you rouse enough to remember, you can feel your leg stitching itself together, the pain causing you to clench your fingers around his shirt before falling back over the depths of unconsciousness. 

When you wake fully, you find yourself staring at rusted beams and swinging lights. A light breeze passes over your face, cold and slightly damp as you attempt to lift your head. Your neck is stiff as you tilt your head to the right and left, trying to take in your surroundings before taking note of the black boots planted on the ground by the wall. 

You let your eyes glance up and over at Joel, his posture relaxed as he faces mostly away from you. He stares at monitors along one whole wall, clicking away and shifting his head back and forth over what looks to be an empty alleyway, an abandoned building, Main Street and Hero Road crossways. The couch you were laying on is soft below you, a blanket folded neatly on the arm of it by your feet. Your head swivels to a dining table just behind Joel, the chairs all faintly facing the same way he is, a kitchenette to the right with an open door that leads to a bathroom, and another two doors to the left. 

No windows or easily accessible doors that were in plain sight. Your heart rate increases uncontrollably as you frantically look around to see if you missed an exit. You’re in the midst of convincing yourself that everything is fine, there of course is a way out of here, when Joel turns to face you.

Joel is rubbing at his neck before giving a flash of a smirk. “Ah, you’re awake.” 

“H-How…” You stumble through the word, moving your eyes down to the floor and looking around again. You’re still laying down, completely paralyzed in fear that you hope is hidden, clearing your throat to try and snap yourself out of it. You lean up, sitting straight and facing him fully on the couch to feign relaxation, but you aren’t convinced you could do it well enough to trick Joel. 

He watches you fidget, his own fingers tapping against the desk he sat at before his eyes snap to you. “Don’t worry, Marianne won’t know you failed on the job.”

Your eyes shoot up to his, frozen in place. You had seen his photo from when he worked for the organization under Marianne. Most of him hadn’t changed-graying of the hair, maybe, but his eyes that bore into yours looked the same as they did in his photo. His history with the Organization in the archives was limited to him leaving it, but you didn’t know much else. “I-I…I wasn’t thinking about Marianne.” You stumble, wincing at your own voice.

Joel chuckles, looking back toward his screens. “I’m going to ask you some questions in exchange for keeping your little mistake on the low. And I won’t kill you–how does that sound?”

“I didn’t make a mistake!” Your voice catches, standing up and glancing at the door to the left. Fuck this guy, you don’t need him telling you about failure when all you did was get in the way. You shuffle slightly, watching as Joel seems to not care. You miss how his legs slowly move under the desk to better situate himself to stand. 

He scoffs. “Oh what, you fainted straight into my arms then? You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes, Slim.” A smile creeps onto his face again, waiting for your reaction.

It was your turn to scoff, watching him stand to face you fully, the smile now spread across his face as if he’s won a prize. “You hauled me here, I didn’t faint.” 

“You were just pretending so I would hold you longer? Bold move. Especially since I could just…” He takes a bounding step toward you, his breath felt on your face as his hand comes up to his neck and makes a slow slicing motion. “Slit your throat right now for faking it.” He practically purrs, stepping closer to you and watching you tense up. “Just a couple questions, little hero.”

You swallow roughly, back pressed against the door behind you, praying that maybe it would open into the fresh air and you could sprint away. When it doesn’t, you rake your eyes up, his black cargo pants fitted to him, shirt untucked now without the armor he’s known for. His arms tan and freckled, biceps bulging out of the sleeves–

Joel clears his throat, heat spreading through your cheeks as he catches you looking at him. “One thing at a time. You work with AJ, right?” 

You nod, swallowing harshly and grinding your teeth to stop your jaw from wobbling uncontrollably. You had never been interrogated like this before, not in training with The Organization or otherwise.

“And how long has that been, sweetie?” He asks gruffly, leaning one hand next to your head to cage one side of you. 

Your breath picks up, attempting to shove at his arm before he brackets you back in. Your cage is getting smaller and smaller. “Why?”

“Just answer the question.” He growls back, hand twitching at his side. You keep your eyes on him, daring him to reach for you. Anger flares in his eyes when you don’t immediately answer, pupils blown wide as a hand comes up around your neck and squeezes. Thankfully, you still don’t flinch. “I don’t like AJ. He plays for the crowd and has dirty secrets.” He spits out.

You furrow your brow, shaking your head with the little room he’s given you. You strain your voice to speak through his tightening hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about–”

A brief release of his hand to come back more firmly, a dull thud of the back of your head against the door. “Yes, you do. If you are partnered with AJ then you’ve seen what he does. Did Marianne partner you together to teach you a lesson? To help him? What?” His hand tightens around your windpipe, anger boiling to the surface of his skin and painting him a deep red. He’s ready to tear you to shreds in the flip of a switch, and you close your eyes to prepare yourself for what you assume is inevitable. 

He will choke you until you pass out and die, he will kill you, he will–

Joel’s hand releases almost fully around your neck, still loosely touching you to keep you in place. When you open your eyes he is staring back at you waiting patiently. 

A deep breath in. “Less than 6 months I have worked with AJ.”

He continues to stare at you, tilting his head and grinding his teeth a bit more until finally  his fingers uncurl from your neck, smirking with a brief chuckle.  “So quick to give in, huh?”

You’re stunned, shaking your head to snap out of whatever downward spiral you were thinking yourself into and refocus. “Shut the fuck up.”

Another small laugh leaves his lips as he pops one hip out, leaning on his arm that rests by your head again. “How many times has AJ left you to the wolves like he did when I took you?”

Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, a flash of blood coating your tongue from how hard you’re trying to keep it together. He’s testing you. “Why do you want to know?”

His hand is quick to come back up, pushing the hair that has fallen out of place over your shoulder, twirling a strand around his finger. It’s tempting to lean into it, subconsciously wanting to feel someone touching you, but you keep still. “Sounds like to me he does it a lot.”

You don’t respond, knowing you’ll only give yourself away. His eyes flick up to yours, another smirk gracing his face. His gaze flicks down to the ripped super suit you’ve designed, fingers drifting away from your hair and to the bare skin visible there. “I thought this was supposed to repair itself?”

When Joel looks back up to you expectantly, his question still unanswered, you cough. “It…can.”

He squints, examining you. “It can? Why hasn’t it, then?”

Silence. 

His finger, dirty and bruised makes you gasp as he touches the exposed skin. Still tender from the shot he took at you earlier, you wince uncontrollably. “I thought it was supposed to regenerate your health too.”

You swat his hand away, taking the opportunity to push at his bum shoulder you know you’ve hurt before and step away from his grasp. “It does, you asshole. I’m working out the kinks.”

“You are?” He questions, not angry or eager to get you back in his grasp. “I thought they put you in that thing.”

“No, it’s my suit.” You can’t help but defend yourself, your design, the hard work you’ve put in. 

“Then why isn’t it working?” He asks casually, stepping back over to his desk and sitting down with a grunt. He eyes you expectantly, rubbing at his shoulder before leaning back with a sigh. 

“I don’t know!” You yell, immediately regretting it. You weren’t supposed to show emotion. You sigh heavily, looking at him for another moment and then deciding to just say-he was likely going to kill you anyways. “The Organization has better resources while I try to figure out why it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do, and I think I’m getting somewhere with it but if I keep going how I am with people shooting me,” You glare at him, his gaze on you unfazed. “Then I won’t have a chance to fix this issue.” 

He lifts his chin in understanding, mulling over the information. “And that issue is?”

“That it regenerates slower each time I have a fatal injury. There’s something wrong with the wires, or how it is done and I don’t know why yet.” You spit out, feeling exhausted suddenly. You lean against the door again, it cool against your back. 

 “What are you going to do then?” He asks, leaning back in his chair further than before and raising his hands over his head. 

You look around, standing straight with your hands on your hips and shake your head. “Well, it looks like an interrogation until death, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

He blows air out of his mouth quickly, a soft scoff in your direction. “Just answer my other questions and I’ll let you go.”

You wait patiently, staring at him as he taps his fingers against his desk again. He pauses for only a moment before continuing. “Has AJ ever done anything that has concerned you?”

“No.” You immediately answer, relaxing the muscles of your face to not react further. 

“Has he ever made a pass at you?” Joel questions again, waiting. 

“No.” Again, immediate answer. You cringe inwardly at what you think he is going to ask.

“Has Marianne ever asked you to watch after him?” He sighs, picking up a pencil and beginning to scribble on to a pad of paper by his keyboard. He now seems uninterested, not convinced. 

You pause long enough that he glances at you again, his eyebrows raised in question. “I…no I don’t think so.”

“What has she said, exactly, in regards of him?” He pushes, turning back to his pad of paper. 

You think for a moment, looking back on to your first few days with The Organization. A tour, the glitz and glam of the behind the scenes and how you could improve your work on your supersuit. Smiles from other superheroes, AJ shaking your hand and saying he looks forward to working with you. 

A shuffling into Marianne’s office and sitting in front of her desk, eager to be of service. Marianne’s stern face gave way to a soft smile before saying, “Keep him in check, show him your good attitude but stay firm. Be a good hero for me, alright?”

You repeat as such to Joel, shutting your eyes at the memory. You know you’ve been missing something, and you thought you were doing a good job at keeping AJ “in check”, whatever that meant. He didn’t like working with others, that much was obvious based on how he would leave scenes of crimes and not tell you the details afterwards. But things were getting better–

Joel stands, taking a couple steps over to where you are and looking down upon you. Frozen for a few moments, eyes flicking back and forth between yours before taking a deep breath and nodding. “That’s all I needed. I hope to never see you again, Slim.”

Defiant, you cross your arms and frown at him. “What is that supposed to me–” Your sentence was cut short, Joel’s hand coming up and impacting your face in such a way that all you see is stars and a slow tunnel into full black. The only thing you remember are those damned boots he’s wearing, and that smile growing on his face again. 

[mildewmaiden]

my younger sister bleached her hair last week. she dyed it pink after. she told me i could pull off the eminem look (shaved + bleached) then i was like. what if i did that. BUT dyed half of it pink? NAD dyed my armpits to match?? so then i would be like eve…. i migt do it tbh…..

blorb.clip Created: Friday, November 10, 2023, 7:16:36 PM

[therealcocoshady]

Hi, coco!

You could make a third part of Eminem x Young Actress Reader, where the reader accompanies him to a game in Detroit and the cameras can't stop focusing on them because Em has never been seen so smiling and affectionate with someone. For the rest you can add what you want. By the way, I love your work and I love that you write about Eminem since almost no one does.<3

Family Game

Eminem x Younger Actress Reader

Part 1 : Daddy’s Spaghetti

Part 2 : Red Carpet Appearance

AN : thank you for your request ! I hope you liked it. I added my own little twist to it 🥰

Ever since your remarked outing at the Oscars, everyone knew you and Marshall were dating, much to your delight. Sure, you would gladly do without the press coverage, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a tiny bit satisfying to have everyone know that Eminem, hip hop’s most eligible bachelor was spoken for, by yours truly, no less. After all, you were not the first (nor the last) public figure to thirst over him and it felt nice to have the “competition” know that they should back off. Especially when you were in a long distance relationship : him in Detroit, you in LA. Sure, you trusted each other and often traveled to make it work but, still, it’s easy to get jealous, especially when both parties are public figures. Marshall was well aware of your status as Hollywood’s rising star and, since he had been your crush for years, you knew for a fact that he has tons of ladies throwing themselves at him. 

In spite of the distance and a couple of jealousy episodes, the two of you managed to make your relationship work, however. Marshall frequently flew out to LA to record with Dr Dre and other artists and to visit you and, whenever you weren’t shooting a movie, you joined him in Michigan. Your relationship was now in the serious state of « we’re both hope at each other’s place ». Your living room table was full of CDs and notepads and his living room was made cozy with your favorite crystals (which he always made fun of), scented candles (which he secretly loved) and fuzzy blankets (which he stole whenever you weren’t around). The whole relationship, despite trials, felt cozy and domestic. And it was made even better by the fact that Marshall had finally managed to ease up. You tended to blame it on the good critical reception after the Oscars : as soon as the two of you had been spotted together, holding hands, Marshall happily gushing about you to the press, both your fans and his had showered you with love and showed nothing but support. Whenever you were positing, fans (most of the time, respectfully) asked about him and they seemed truly overjoyed by the relationship. From what you gathered in the social media comments, they were also dying for the two of you to be spotted together again. Marshall was pretty much an hermit and not the kind to go out and about when he knew he might be spotted but, on one occasion, he had to oblige the fans. 

His beloved Detroit Lions were playing your Los Angeles Rams at Detroit’s Ford Field Stadium and there was no way in hell you would miss the occasion to attend. Knowing how protective of your relationship he could be, you made plans to attend on your own, with a couple of friends who would fly in for the occasion, but Marshall surprised you by actually requesting your presence. 

Don’t you want to go with me ? He asked. 

You mean… on a date ? You clarified. 

I mean there would be other people around, like family, friends and shit but we could be together, he said with a smile. 

You mean you would agree to being spotted with me ?! You asked jokingly. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in Lions apparel ! 

What I mean is that I’d be proud to hold your hand, even if you’re wearing that stupid Rams hoodie, he grinned. 

Ok, you giggled. As long as I’m not forced to cheer for your team ! 

You ended up attending the event in a private suite with a lot of other people. Of course, his children were in attendance, as well as a couple of D12 friends. You had met everyone previously. A couple of months into the relationship, Marshall had organized a dinner for you to officially meet his daughters and everything had gone smoothly. You absolutely loved them, and same went for the friends he had introduced to you on different occasions. At the game, you were also joined by a couple of your friends, that you not so secretly planned on setting up with some of his. In your mind, there was no doubt that Alicia and Porter were meant to be and the Game seemed like the perfect occasion. It was joyful and everyone was really happy to be here. You were donning your favorite Rams apparel, much to Marshall’s dismay, but that didn’t prevent him from casually holding your hand. 

For how much would you wear Lions apparel ? Your friend jokingly asked. 

Nobody in this room can afford it, you replied with a grin. 

Oh really ? Marshall asked with a smirk. 

How about if you guys get married ? Porter asked. Would you be willing to support the Lions ? 

That would require a HUGE rock, you giggled. But yeah, sure, if we ever get married, I’ll wear Lions gear for all games, except the ones against the Rams. 

Your friends erupted in « oooohs » and « aaaahs ». The rivalry between your two teams was enough to fuel a dozen of conversations but, other than that, everyone around you had to agree that you were kind of the perfect couple. Your best friends always pointed out that Marshall was good at keeping you grounded and reminding you of the things that mattered - besides all the LA glitz and glamour - and Marshall’s circle seemed happy that you encouraged him to go out of his comfort zone. 

He was usually stressed out whenever there were tons of cameras around. It was unsettling to you, at first, because it was part of the job, but as your relationship progressed and he came with you to some events, he seemed to ease up. Still, he wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but you didn’t mind. You enjoyed his company nonetheless and you didn’t need him to kiss you in public or even hold your hand to be happy to be with him. In settings like football games, though, he was himself - the man you knew and loved in everyday life. He could be seen clapping, shouting, cheering… a far cry from the stoic face he arbored on red carpets and magazine covers. And you absolutely loved to see him enjoy himself and have fun. You were enamored with his smile and happy demeanor and you didn’t care too much about the 60 000 other people, you only had eyes for him. Obviously, though, as a Detroit native and global superstar, he was one of the centres of attention when Lose Yourself started playing before the game and everyone started singing/rapping along to the lyrics. Everyone in your group watched Marshall, who was definitely in a good mood. So were you, to be honest, and you couldn’t help but rap along, this song being one of your favorites ever. As the song ended, you could see Marshall sitting right next to you, trying not to laugh. 

You’re adorable, he chuckled. 

What ? You asked with a giggle. It’s the ultimate stadium song ! And my boyfriend is the one who wrote it !!! 

I love you, he simply said before cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

That was the last tender moment the two of you shared before the end of the game. When your two favorite teams played each other, there was no romantic involvement anymore. It was all betting, taunting and calling each other names. For the first two quarters, the Rams seemed to dominate, which you gladly shoved in your boyfriend’s face, but when the Lions ended up winning, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Despite it all, and in spite of you being a sore loser, Marshall behaved like the perfect boyfriend and pecked you on the cheek, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you exited your suite. His team winning always put him in a celebratory mood and he was more affectionate than usual, not giving a damn what people would see or think. He even went so far as to kiss your lips. 

Of course, in the following hours, the Internet went absolutely crazy over the pictures of the two of you at the stadium. While some accounts were raving about your outfit (because you did put some effort into making that Sports apparel work !), most of them were gushing about Marshall’s display of affection and how in love the two of you looked. 

« Look at his smile 🥰 » commented one, or « Look how in love he looks when she’s rapping his song 😭❤️ » were a few of the comments you could see under the videos of the event. It was extremely cute and, in moments like these, you felt like the luckiest woman on earth. However, a swarm of other comments started to appear, focusing on… Marshall’s daughters. The three of them were sitting on the row just behind you and they could be seen laughing at your nonexistent rapping skills (all fair, really) and mocking their father’s display of affection. You didn’t take offense at all - you’d been there yourself and you knew how icky it could feel, seeing your parent being affectionate with someone in public, but the press and social media accounts seemed to turn it into a family feud. If the headlines were to be believed, neither Alaina, Stevie or Hailie approved of the relationship and thought you were too young for Marshall. They apparently despised you and saw you as the most evil and wicked stepmother who was more than likely after their Dad’s fortune. Of course, reality couldn’t be further from the truth. Whenever you were in Detroit, you spent a great deal of time with Marshall’s daughters and you considered as friends. So much so that you even made plans of your own, that did not include him. It wasn’t rare for the four of you to have dinner or go shopping. On occasion, they even visited you in California and you soon planned to go on a girls’ trip in Morocco. So, when Hailie showed you the headline on your phone, everyone burst out laughing. 

« Evil stepmother », Stevie chortled. That’s hilarious. 

Is that because of the face you made, Hailie ? When Y/N was rapping ? Alaina chimed in. 

I was making a face because they were corny ! She laughed. Look at Dad’s face on the video. He’s all cute and lovey dovey. Of course I wanted to puke ! 

Marshall rolled his eyes. He was no stranger to his kids making fun of how in love with you he was but, honestly, he didn’t care. For the first time in forever, he was happy and thriving in a relationship. A healthy one, at that. Whenever you were around, he could barely contain his joy and good mood and he often thought he would do anything to make you smile. He hated public attention but he simply loved showing you off and enjoying life with you. However, he had to admit he was a little annoyed by the comments involving your relationship with his daughters. He knew there was no truth to it whatsoever but that didn’t make it less annoying. First of all, he hated seeing his kids’ names in the media, especially if it was negative and, secondly, he hated the idea of lies involving all of you, the people he loved the most on this earth. However, the four of you were grown women and he knew better than to say something so he figured it would be best to wait for it to die down. 

Unfortunately, though, the rumors did not die down and the whole thing got blown out of proportion. It wasn’t only on social media : press and other media outlets got ahold of the story and even dug up some obscure social media posts and took them out of context. They really made it seem like there was hatred between the girls and you were a mean gold-digger who wanted to estrange Marshall from his children. Nothing could be further for the truth though, and you even celebrated the holidays together. After years spent in the public eye, you tried not to let it get to you but it was hard. Even if some of your past relationships had been publicized, this one was on a whole other level and you had a hard time dealing with the scrutiny. Especially when some people were starting to wish for the end of your career with comments like « What a b****. Hope no one casts her ever again 🙄 » or « Hope she enjoys her Oscar because she won’t last much longer in Hollywood 💀 ». You tried not to let your feelings show. Marshall was already annoyed and you didn’t want things to get worse. After all, you knew how overprotective he could get over the people he loved. 

A few weeks went by and the attention seemed to die down around the holidays. You had been with Marshall for a year and a half and it was your first time celebrating together. You would spend the days leading up to Christmas in Michigan, go back to your family in California for the holidays and then jet off to a private Island lent by a friend for some vacation time just the two of you. Marshall would even join you in LA to spend some time with your family who was definitely approving of him. They absolutely adored him and considered him a part of the family. 

In the week leading up to Christmas, you were on Christmas tree decoration duty with the girls while Marshall was letting you do your thing. Hailie had come up with some ornaments as merch for her podcast and you thought it would be cute and funny to take a selfie with one of them that said « Shady or Nice ». You posted it to your Instagram account with some cheesy caption and didn’t pay it too much attention. When you checked the comments, a day or so later, you were surprised at the reaction. What you thought would be a cute nod to your boyfriend and his daughter’s podcast ended up in a shitstorm, with people basically accusing you on sucking up to Hailie to get to Marshall. In their mind, you were a master manipulator. Of course, these were just a bunch of people commenting and the rest seemed rather supportive and happy to see you acknowledging your relationship, something you rarely did on your social media account. Still, you were a little bugged off when you went to bed. 

What’s up, babygirl ? Marshall asked as he laid next to you. 

Nothing, you shrugged. Just these mean trolls. 

What are they saying now ? 

That your daughters hate me, you summed up. And that I’m trying to suck up to them. 

That’s stupid, he scoffed. The girls love you and you know it. 

And I love them too, you know ? You replied. But I don’t know… I don’t like people getting the wrong idea. And I see people commenting about me in their posts and it breaks my heart. 

It’s not your fault, he said before kissing your forehead. Let’s not think about that, ok ? Just focus on the holidays and the great time we’re going to have. 

I’m going to miss you for Christmas, you pointed out. 

Three days, he chuckled. And then I’m joining you in California. And after that… you, me, a private island and your tiniest bikinis. 

You nuzzled his neck and enjoyed the warmth of his embrace, making you forget all of your worries. The next day, you were set to hop on the jet to go back to California and enjoy some family time with your brother and your parents. Before that, you enjoyed one last brunch at Marshall’s place, with his daughters. Hailie got everyone matching ugly Christmas sweaters and you were absolutely moved that she got one for you. You took corny pictures in front of the Christmas tree posing with your boyfriend’s daughters while he was rolling his eyes at your dumb poses. You even got Marshall to pose with you. He wasn’t big on taking pictures but he knew how important these were for you and the girls so he obliged with a smile on his face. A few hours later, you were on the jet, scrolling social media and noticed that Alaina had posted the picture of you, her and her sisters in front of the Christmas Tree with the caption : « Happy holidays from our FAMILY to yours 💕 ». You thought it was the sweetest thing ever that she considered you as family. Of course, trolls were still in the comments, but you tried to stay positive. A few hours later, Hailie updated her last podcast episode of the year, with Stevie as guest. 

So, before we begin this episode, we wanted to address something, she began. 

Family matters, Stevie specified. 

Right, Hailie nodded. You guys have been commenting a lot on last episode’s video and on my Instagram account…

All our accounts, her sister corrected.

Yes. Everyone’s account. It seems like Internet is going crazy about a certain video that was taken at the last Lions Game, so I thought… we thought we should clear things up, Hailie said. I understand that there are always going to be rumors about our family, and we can’t help it at this point, but it’s the Holidays and I don’t my mood to be ruined by negative attention and lies. So… Stevie, do you want to comment on the video ? 

Basically, we were at the game, enjoying some family time and people filmed our reaction to Y/N… our Dad’s girlfriend, rapping Lose Yourself, Stevie explained. And kissing afterwards. And what really sparked the whole thing is the face Hailie made. 

Yeah, I pretended to puke, Hailie giggled. And no, guys, it’s not because I hate Y/N or anything like that, it’s just… we’re a normal family, guys. Whenever you see your parents being cheesy and corny, you want to puke, right ? 

Right, Stevie giggled. So, let’s not dwell on this but for the record : we love Y/N and she is not what people make her to be. We see her as family, you know ? 

Yes ! It’s the Holidays, it’s a family time and we all know I love Shady stories but… nothing Shady here. It’s all love, Hailie chuckled. 

Too much love, Stevie joked. 

This warmed your heart even more. The girls absolutely didn’t have to jump to your defense but the fact that they did warmed your heart and you couldn’t wait to spend some time with them again. You sent texts to thank them and wished them happy holidays, saying you were looking forward to seeing them soon. You also texted your boyfriend, telling him how amazing his kids were and that you loved him and his family. 

MARSHALL’S POV 

Marshall was eating dinner with his daughters when he got a text from Y/N that immediately put a smile on his face. 

You girls are amazing, he said with a smile. 

No idea what you’re talking about, Alaina said with feigned innocence. 

I think you do, he replied with a grin. Seriously, you didn’t have to do that but… thank you. It means a lot to me. 

We weren’t going to let people think we hate her, Stevie said.

Not when she is actually about to become our stepmother, Hailie said with a smirk. 

Marshall immediately let his fork fall on his plate, a look of surprise on his face. 

I… erm… wanted to talk to you about it first, he said. How do you even know… ? 

I found the ring sketches in your office last time I went there, Stevie said. I was searching for one of your old CDs. 

And you had to go yapping to your sisters about that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Are you really going to propose ? Hailie said with excitement. 

I mean… I’ve been thinking about it, yeah, he admitted. I wanted to make sure you girls were ok with it first but, if that’s fine with you, I’d like to propose to her over the holidays. 

The girls erupted in cheers and immediately gave their blessings, commenting on how they never thought this day would come. Of course, they quizzed him about his plans. 

Were spending a couple of days with her family before going on vacation for NYE, so I was planning on asking for her father’s blessing, he explained. 

Isn’t he like… almost your age, though ? Stevie chuckled. 

It’s a matter of respect, he shrugged. I appreciated when Matt and Evan asked for my blessing so I thought I’d do the same. Can’t hurt to have your future father-in-law on your side. 

And… as for the proposal ? Alaina asked. 

I know it’s not super original but I was thinking of doing it on the private island, over a nice dinner on the beach, at sunset or something like that, he said. 

It’s so cute ! Alaina said. I love it. 

I think my Dad’s gone corny, Hailie joked. 

You think it’s corny ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Oh definitely. But she’s just as corny so she is going to love it ! 

One question though, Stevie said. If you guys get married, she’ll move to Detroit, right ? 

That’s sort of the plan, yeah, Marshall said. She’d move for work quite a bit, depending on where movies are shot, but she’d live with me. Why ? 

So… she’d have to turn into a Lions fan eventually, right ? 

I’m counting on it, he said with a smirk. 

Is that why you’re proposing ? Alaina joked. 

Maybe, he chuckled. I swear to God, I’m putting a ban on Rams apparel in the prenup. 

[smutty-books]

Hoodie Guy

Chapter 5

Eminem x reader

Getting to know you, coffee shop, soft marshall matters, reader’s sons

------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Angie teased you about Marshall and tried to get info out of you but you remained closed lip about what you talked about. You headed home in time to meet your sons’ buses and started them on their homework while starting dinner. Your 16 year old was determined to antagonize his brother and Nick played into it. You were glad for the distraction from your thoughts about meeting Marshall later. Soon enough you had your 12-year-old put to bed and Andrew was studying for an upcoming test. You looked at the time and realized you needed to get ready. You quickly went to your room, slipped into some straight-legged jeans, some white air force 1’s and a V-neck long-sleeved shirt. You let your hair down and fluffed it,and touched up your makeup. You spritzed some musk on your pulse points, the crown of your head, and behind your knees. You grabbed your debit card, some cash, and your phone. You let Andrew know you were going out with a friend. Andrew rolled his eyes when you repeated the exact instructions to him that you told him every night.

“ I know, mom, you tell me the same thing everytime you go out.” You kissed him on the too of the head and told him bye and what time you’d be back. You headed out, locking the door behind you. You drove to the coffee shop near the gym and parked. You took a few deep breaths and reminded yourself this was just Marshall and you were having coffee and talking, that's all. It didn't help that you had not dated much since your divorce and the times you had ended badly. You weren't one for casual hookups, and most guys wanted sex. That's what you worried about with Marshall, and, if you did date, what his expectations were cause you knew he was experienced with women. Way more experienced. You and your ex-husband had a good sex life and had done some experimenting, but you knew Marshall had been pretty wild in his younger days. You didn't know about it now, but if he was his team must be keeping it pretty hush-hush, as Marshall was very private.

You shook those thoughts off and reminded yourself that you were just talking and getting to know each other. Usually, things didn't progress past that. Most guys you were into were interested initially but then friend-zoned you, which is kind of what you were expecting to happen with Marshall. You would be cool with that. Marshall as a friend was better than no Marshall at all.

You again chided yourself for getting ahead of yourself. You checked again to make sure you had your debit card and your cash. You stepped out of your little car, ensured she was locked and made your way to the door. You glanced inside and noticed Marshall wasn't there yet. You look at your watch and see you are early, so you debate whether or not to wait outside or to go inside.

The smell of fresh coffee as a patron came out of the shop made up your mind for you. Coffee fiend that you were You followed the scent of the beloved liquid. You approached the counter and greeted the cashier. You scanned the menu but couldn’t decide. Ypu asked the cashier for a recommendation. The barista happened to hear your question and came over and asked you what you liked. You told her you liked dark roasts like Cafe Bustelo, a Cuban espresso, but you also like your cafe mochas and peppermint mochas as well as chai tea lattes. She offered her suggestion which sounded heavenly to you so you requested that and thanked her for her help and input. She smiled at you and began preparing your coffee in a mug. You paid the cashier for your drink and put a 5 dollar tip in the tip jar. You made small talk with the barista as you watched her prepare your drink. After a lovely conversation, she handed you your coffee creation in a big mug. You were delighted by the foam decoration on the top and told the barista so. She smiled appreciatively and blushed a little. Thanking her again, you turned around to find a table and found Marshall watching you. His face was expressionless but his gaze was warm and affectionate after watching your interactions with the staff at the shop. You blushed a little and ducked your head at his scrutiny . He swallowed down a smile and moved to join you.

“ I see you made yourself at home.. Ypu weren’t waiting long, were ya’?” He greeted you with as he came to your side. You smiled at him as you both walked to a both toward the back. You let him guide where you sat. You automatically took the seat that your back faced the shop, he looked a little surprised but nodded in thanks and took the seat facing the shop. He watched you take a sip of your drink and then swallowed another smile as you closed your eyes and sighed in contentment, dropping your head back. You smiled sheepishly as you brought your head back up and found his blue gaze still resting on ypu, cataloging your expressions, a slight tilt to his lips.

“ What can I say? Coffee and I could never be strangers. A patron came out as I was waiting outside for you, and I couldn’t resist coming in and getting a cup. I hope you don’t mind?” your explanation started strong but trailed off as you waited for his response.

“ Yes, I minded. I fully ‘spected you to wait outside for me. I’m Eminem, I expect chicks to wait for me.” He said, wholly deadpan and seriously, sitting toward you and looking you straight in the eye. Your eyes widened a fraction as you looked in his serious blue eyes and scanned his face. You thought he was playing but his face was so serious. Your mind flashed to all the interviews you saw with him and his complete deadpan delivery and his dry sense of humor. You decided to play with it a little. You made sure an apology showed in your eyes just in case.

“ Oh, so sorry, my mistake. Where ever are my manners. Please for give the lapse in etiquette, Mr. Mathers. It won’t happen again.” Ypu intoned, dryly, your face in an exaggerated forgive me expression, complete with puppy dog eyes. Marshall broke at that. His blue eyes twinkled back at you and he allowed a smile and a chuckle.

“ Well, since it’s your first time, I’ll let it slide. Don’t let it happen again.” He mock warned. You tried to appear chastened though in actuality you were relieved he was being facetious. You murmured your thanks and picked up your mug and took another sip. Marshall excused himself to get his own drink. You turned around to watch him move across the shop, admiring his easy stride and his outfit. You admired his black Kangol cap, his black zip up hoodie and his sagged sweatpants and his Nike’s. You watched him interact with the cashier and watched him drop a 10 dollar tip in the jar. You continued to watch as he accepted his cup and as he turned around and moved back toward you. You turned around back toward the table not wanting to be caught staring like a creeper. You watched as he settled himself in and took a sip of his drink.

“Have you been here before?” Ypu asked him curiously, taking another sip from your mug.

“ Not this shop, no, I used to frequent the shop it was before. It was a little mom and pop greasy spoon. Made the best eggs and hash browns. They had to sell though, the owner got sick and they couldn’t keep up the business. This place hadn’t been open maybe 6 months. First time I’ve been in here.” He looked around the shop assessing.

“ Yeah, we have a place like that back in my hometown. It was called The City Grill. Only open till like 2 and made the best eggs and hash browns. It’s still there though. Little mom and pop hole in the wall place.” You shared, smiling slightly at the fond memories.

“ So you ain’t from Detroit. I didn’t think you was. Your accent is different. Where’s home?” He asked curiously. You told him where you were from and about your little hometown.

“ What brought you to Detroit? That’s a ways from home?”

“ I took a travel assignment here one summer. I kept coming back here each summer cause I love the hospital and the staff I work with so much. Plus I fell in love with Detroit. So I decided to move me and my boys here permanently.”

From there the conversation continued. Marshall was guarded about quite a bit but he answered more than you thought he would. You were also guarded about some of your history but tried to answer as openly as you could. He asked more questions about your kids and you bragged on them like the proud mama you were. You asked about his kids as that was never an area you delved into or investigated as those were his kids. You could see how proud he was of all three of his kids. You commiserated over your worry about your teenagers and how things had changed since you both were that age.

You were just chuckling at an anecdote he was telling about Stevie when ypu heard “ Mom, mom, mom, mummy, mama.” Marshall looked at you confused, realization dawned as you took your phone out with a chuckle. Murmuring an “ excuse me” you turned away slightly to focus on your conversation with your son. Marshall pulled his phone out so as not to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“ Hey, sweetheart, is everything okay? Is Nick okay?” You asked, concerned mom tone coming out. You heard an exasperated sigh from the end of the line.

“ He’s fine, mom, still sleeping. Can Jayden come over after school to hang out and listen to music? There's a new X album of unreleased songs dropping at midnight.” you thought about it. “ Has he checked with his parents that its okay?” “ Yes, mom, they said it fine.” “Is he staying for dinner? “ “ If that's okay, yeah.” “ Yeah, that's fine.” “ Bet! Thanks mom, love you, bye.” “ Love you, too, son, be home soon.”

Marshall looked up and put his phone away as you ended your call. He smiled to himself as he caught your concerned mom tone and hearing your tone when talking to your son, and the “ I love you too.”

“ Your boys okay?” He asked politely, even though he knew the answer.

“ Yeah. That was Andrew, asking to have a friend over tommorow to listen to a new album that’s dropping at midnight.” You explained, pocketing your phone.

“ Oh? What album?” Marshall asked curiously, thinking if he knew any albums on the horizon off hand.

“ Xxxtentation? It’s some of the unreleased music he did before he died.” you explained. Marshall nodded “ Your son into rap?” “ Predominantly, yeah, he started with you and then went from there. His favorites are X, Juice World, and NF, but he listens to so many artists.” you chuckled.” He likes to play them for me when Nick’s not around and get my opinion on what he is listening to.” you shared, chuckling, shaking your head, thinking about some of the screamers he listens to. Marshall chuckled as well. “ Sone of it though he just wants to hear me say” Andrew!!!!” others he says “ Mom this beat is fire, you gotta listen to it!” “ Mom, listen to these lyrics!” “ Mom, listen to this flow switch, listen to the rhyme scheme.” You shrugged. “ I'm glad he wants to share what he's listening to with me, though, keeps the lines of communication open.” Marshall nods thoughtfully, listening to you talk. You could see the wheels turning in his amazing mind.

“ You divorced, right?” you nodded, waiting for him to continue. He seemed to think like he was measuring his words. “Where their dad at? He in the picture? They get to see him?” You chuckled but it didn't have an humor in it. Marshall cocked his head and waited for you to continue. You thought about what to tell him.

“ Their dad lives in Arizona, before that Virginia, and before that Leavenworth. He was active duty while at Leavenworth, then retired. Did his 20 and got out. When he retired they moved to Virginia where he got a job as a DOD contractor. “ you told Marshall quietly. “ They see him a couple times a year. Andrew talks to him on FaceTime about once a month. Nick doesn’t know his dad or his new family that well.” As you talked , you kept your voice even and calm even though it still pissed you off. You looked at Marshall and saw the upset on his face. He swallowed a few times and you could see he was confused and upset. After a few tries he was able to speak.

“New family?” He asked, his voice controlled.

“ Yeah, he started seeing someone when we were separated, made it serious after we divorced and the when he came back to the states he moved her to Leavenworth with him and they got married. She had a son from a previous marriage. They had a daughter together a few years later even though she wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. Of course this was after they told Andrew they didn’t have room for him when he asked to live with his dad.” You told him, your voice shaking a bit and you took a deep breath.

“ Motherfucker. So he chose a bitch and her kid over his own kids???!!!” He looked incensed at the idea. You bit your lip, and looked down, and nodded. You heard him muttering under his breath “ I see why you called him a fucktard. I just don’t get how a father can not be involved in his kid’s lives or choose one family over the other. That’s fucked up.” He told you after a few minutes, his voice calmer and quieter. You looked up and saw his gazing at you. You still saw anger on his face directed at your ex but in his eyes you saw sympathy. You wanted to get away from the unpleasant topic so quickly changed the subject. Marshall sent you a look that let you know he knew what you were doing but was going to follow your lead, for now, which you were grateful for.

“ So, you box, like for real. How long have you been boxing? How did you get started?” you asked him, intrigued. He smiled a little bit, chuckled, and answered your questions. You laughed as he finished with the story about being beaten by the 14-year-old. He shook his head and watched you laugh.

“Have you ever taught anyone to box?” you asked, curious. He shook his head. “ I tried to teach my girls, but none of ‘em got interested.” he imparted.

“ Yeah, my son used to go to a boxing club back home but stopped, never really said why. I always thought it would neat to learn, just never had the time.”

“ I could teach you, I mean, I can try to teach you, if you want.” he offered.

“ I don't know if I want to subject you to that. I'm incredibly uncoordinated and boxing looks like it requires coordination,” you said self-deprecating. “ Thank you for the offer, though, can I rain check and take you up on it later?” you asked tentatively, raiding you eyes to meet his blue gaze head on. The compassion and understanding in his blue eyes in his blues took your breath away. You realized that you could easily fall for this human being and you needed to protect your heart if you didn't want it broken. He considered you for a few minutes.

“ Raincheck it is. Imma hold you to that. So I know you got good taste in music cause you listen to me.” he said, smirking at you, you chuckled. “ What other artists you listen to?”

“ Oh, buddy, you just opened a flood gate with that question.” you warned him.

“ Hit me. I wanna know. Is it all rap or do you like other types of music?” he asked, curiously, hid gaze intent on you. You weren't used to such attention and part of you blossomed but the other part was waiting for him to put the breaks on and friend-zone you. You took a deep breath and thought for a moment.

“ Imma be honest, I grew up listening to 8 tracks and records on my parents Hi- fi. I grew up with classic country, 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s music. My parents got me a record player for one of my birthdays, one of those that had a tape deck as well? So I grew up listening to all their old records. Then I was a band geek, and a theatre geek. The band guys were into heavy metal band and garage bands so I have an appreciation for that. And I loved early rap, like the 80’s and early ’90s. Loved the Beasty Boys, MC Hammer, and Regulator by Nate Dogg and Warren G. And of course DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. Salt n’ Peppa, Run DMC. Then when I got married my then husband listened to a lot of 80’s hair and and classic rock as well as classical music and some show tunes. I got away from rap because it was too violent and too vulgar and misogynistic. It wasn't fun like the early rap I listened to. Plus my then husband wasn't a fan so that influenced my listening tastes. It wasn't till after I was divorced and my middle son started bumping rap and playing it for me that I got interested in the genre again. Then I became obsessed and devoured everything I could about hip hop and the culture. As you said in “ Kamikaze,” it made me feel strong at one of the weakest points in my life, and the more I listened, the more strength I drew from you and other hip-hop artists the more I sought to understand the culture and why rappers rapped about what they did. That's the beauty of music, it is universal and it’s a way of connecting to others and telling your struggles that others can relate to and maybe gain strength from the fact that someone else is struggling and you aren't alone in this world. That there are others that do understand and its a comfort and a solace.”you told him, gauging his expression. He listened intently and nodded at points, made agreeing noises at others and didn't look surprised by you statements about rap and why you got away from it. He looked a little sad at that but perked up when you talked about your renewed interest in it and watched, intrigued by the passionate way you spoke about this art form and culture that he was in love with so much and that had given so much to him and his family. That he strove to give back to and pay homage to whenever and however he possibly could. He found himself wanting to know more which was an oddity. He was saddened when he saw you look at your watch and start and knew you had to go.

“ You gotta go?” he asked quietly, looking down at his drink

“Yeah, I told my son I’d be back around 10:30,” you told him regretfully, finishing your now very cold cup of coffee. You moved to stand up and return your cup. He stood up as well and grabbed his drink and took yours from you despite your protest. He quickly silenced your protest with a warning look. You smiled at him in thanks. You thanked the cashier and barista and made your way to the door. He helped the for open for you, which you thanked him for. You talked and joked with each others. He walked you to your car. He watched as you unlocked your car and as you quickly checked the back seat before he opened the door and held it.

“ I’d like to see you again. “ he told you seriously. You looked him, confused. He clarified. “ I mean, I know we are going to see each other at the gym, but I'd like to, you know, kinda like take you out.” he got out. You looked up at him and smiled warmly.

“ Yeah?” You asked in wonder. He smiled at that, more certain at your humbleness that he wanted to get to know you more.

“ Yeah, I do.” he breathed, looking at you.

“ I'd like that, too. I kind of like you, Marshall Mathers.” you said sweetly, bashfully, blush on your cheeks as you admitted that to him. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to your cheek and whispered in your ear, his voice husky: “ Yeah? Wanna know sumtin'? I kind of like you too, y/n.” he felt you shiver as his lips brushed across your skin, and he bit back a smile, liking that he could affect you like that. He pulled back and gave you a small smile. You smiled shyly up at him, hardly believing someone like him was interested in someone like you.

“ Good night, Marshall. See you tomorrow night? “ you asked, starting your car, smiling as her engine came to life. He murmured his assent and closed your door. You rolled your window down

“ Sleep tight, sweet dreams, Marshall Bruce Mathers.” you told him, smiling at him.

“ You, too, y/n, you too. Text me when you get home.” he reminded you. You nodded and waved at him as you rolled up your window. He smiled as he caught Tupac’s “ I Ain't Mad Atcha” coming from your speakers before the window closed. He watched as you pulled away then made his way to his vehicle and made his way home.

[ltleflrt]

The new Eminem music and the controversy over it is really interesting. We've got the younglings clutching their pearls over the offensiveness of the lyrics, and we've got the GenX and Millenials bonding over how Slim Shady is actually going easy in this song, compared to his old stuff. It's very funny really.

See, as a Xennial, I clearly remember how in the late 90s and early 00s, deliberately offensive comedy was en vogue. There was Eminem, Daniel Tosh, Bloodhound Gang, just to name a few of my personal faves. It was an elaborate game of "your mama" jokes, and trying to one up each other. No one actually hates each other's mama; it was just a framing device for creative insults that don't actually hurt anyone's feelings. There was an understanding that they knew they were being offensive and seeing how hard they could make their audience groan. The "ugh that's AWFUL" experience was funny. Like groaning at a stupid pun. We knew it was bad, and we weren't laughing because we agreed, we were laughing because "bro, you don't SAY shit like that!" It was satire, and we all recognized it.

Except, we didn't all recognize it for satire, did we? Suddenly there was an influx of comedians who were making offensive jokes about things they genuinely believed. And the joke changed from "this is funny because we all know it's bad" to "this is funny because we all know it's true", and that was a huge problem.

For the most part, people recognized that it was starting to go wrong, and there was a backlash against offensive humor. Justifiably. And the good comedians took that feedback and either changed their routines, or they faded into the background. Even Eminem went away. The comedians that pushed back against the backlash started to actually seem to mean the offensive jokes, and they're people we now frown on. Ricky Gervaise comes to mind. Still doing offensive comedy, but now I think he's just an asshole.

I do think Eminem believed some, if not most, of what he was saying and it wasn't entirely satire, but I think he still took the feedback gracefully and stopped making music for a while. And now he's back, and he's being mildly offensive, but we've cultivated new generations who don't get the joke. I'm not sure whether that's good because we're like "being mean isn't funny", or if it's bad because younger generations have lost the ability to understand and appreciate satire. A little of both, maybe.