#Who is she ?

[los-plantalones]

fell in love with a sentient pipe cleaner today

[newgomensfan]

Managing to get a post out in time for the holidays?? It’s a Christmas miracle

[thelostpretzel]

[shiftythrifting]

strong choice from an eBay seller

best use for a stand mixer found

[succulentsiren]

HAVING UNSHAKEABLE CONFIDENCE INCLUDES

Not caring what others think.

Voicing your opinion whether others agree with them or not.

Staying true to yourself.

Walking into any room and feeling powerful (not insecure).

Realizing you don’t have competition and not comparing yourself to others.

Feeling best about what you have to offer and who you are.

Putting yourself first.

Dreaming big and taking action to make your dreams happen.

Being a master manifestor.

Not needing anyone or their approval to be great.

Laughing at haters.

Presenting your best self to the world.

Having a stable emotional state (remaining hopeful and not allowing doubt to effect you).

Having your own standards and staying true to them.

Having a secure self image and not allowing others to define you.

Never lowering your standards.

Speaking your truth.

Allowing yourself to shine (talents, gifts) without judgement.

Supporting others and being joyous when they win.

Focusing on self.

Speaking highly of yourself.

Creating and doing what you love (not just what's popular).

Remaining dedicated to your goals even when you fail.

[khozee-gorl]

[outerbankies]

hi bestie. i still often think about your cowboy rafe you mentioned agessss ago 🥲

yeehaw.docx

in your love - rafe cameron

synopsis: an early morning on the ranch in cowboy!rafe’s back house, after you both finally acted on your feelings the night before

The sun hasn’t even crested the mountains when his early morning movements about the back house wake you. A squeaky door hinge into the bathroom, the run of the shower, a few taps on the sink from his toothbrush.

Rafe smells of aftershave and a laundry detergent-fresh shirt when you do finally stir, squinting at the red numbers on the digital clock beside his bed. You push yourself up slightly as he comes to sit at your feet, only one boot on.

“S’everything okay?” you ask.

“Can’t find my damn — ah, there it is,” he says, pulling the other out from under his bed, where it’d been lost under where you were sleeping. “Mornin’.”

You realize a beat late he’s leaning in, embarrassed by your half-asleep state. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, tucking a tendril behind your ear as he pulls away.

You spot a blush on his cheeks as he does, his hand falling from your face with a thumb-brush to your bottom lip. “Sorry for the early wake-up call. Thought you might want a ride back to the main house.”

You’re still bleary from sleep, head spinning slightly from his kiss and how it stirred up last night’s memories, a couple of bourbon gingers and his hand on your thigh. Childers — from a goddamn CD — playing in his truck on the drive from the bunkhouse, his lips everywhere as soon as the front door shut behind you.

“This is your normal wake-up time?” you marvel, still in so many ways ignorant to his life.

Rafe must find it endearing, chuckling. “Truthfully, been up about an hour or so. Coffee’s on in the kitchen if you want it.”

You nod, pushing yourself up straighter, stretching your arms over your head. “Yeah, yeah. Just gimme a sec and I’ll get up. When do you need to head out?”

“Should be soon. But I’m sure Kelce and the rest of them are sleepin’ in a bit this morning,” he says with a wry smile.

You shake your head, picturing the Kelce you saw with an empty 30 rack of Coors on his head last night at the bunkhouse up at this ungodly hour.

You’d only had two drinks at the bar in town, and barely polished off half of your nightcap at the bunkhouse before Rafe had whispered in your ear about leaving the rest of the hands to it.

You’d watched as Rafe barely drink all night, wondering if he’d been intentional about it as you had.

The blue work shirt — clean, pulled fresh from a drawer last night — you wore to bed falls off your shoulder just then, Rafe eyeing it with a smile as he pulls it back up.

“You’re killin’ me,” he practically whispers, pecking your cheek.

You’re emboldened by the effect you must be having on him, by the fact that he had been limiting his drinking last night for one goal in mind, by the way he should’ve left already and he’s still here being sweet to you.

You kiss him again against your better judgement, knowing it’ll make the ride back to the house that much more tense. But you can’t help it.

“You really have to go?” you question, your hand brushing against the shaven-smooth skin of his jaw.

“Cattle won’t push themselves.”

“When’ll I see you?”

“Dinner tonight?”

You shake your head. “Going into town with daddy.”

“Where?”

You just shrug. “Some hotel restaurant I think? It’s a business dinner. Lucky me.”

He nods. “I’ll bet it’s The Smythe. Nice place. They can make you that fancy drink you tried to order at the bar last night.”

Rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, no doubt feeling the heat on them. “A dirty martini is hardly a fancy drink.”

But his laugh reverberates in your chest when he tucks his face there, so you don’t necessarily mind the teasing, your hand moving to the back of his head, fingers threading through the still-damp strands at the back of his neck.

For a brief, terrifying moment, you realize you want him to stay there forever.

“If you say so,” he says.

You stay like that, stroking the back of his head for a moment. Pressing a kiss to the side of his head, you say, “I should really get up. So you can go.”

“Stay,” he says suddenly. “Have your coffee, or go back to bed. Just stay, and I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, and any inquiry you had into whether he meant it dies on your lips.

“A few hours?”

“Before you’re even up again,” he promises, pressing a kiss that feels final to your lips before he stands.

You sink down into his covers before you can decide if it’s a good idea, watching as he pulls his jacket off the coat rack in the corner, your own from last night hanging right beside it.

Had you not been still half-asleep, the smile he throws you after putting his hat on before passing through his bedroom door would’ve been grounds to beg him back into bed.

“Back soon!” Rafe calls, the front door slamming shut.

[bloosemood]

You burn it all like it’s a game.

[alittlegiraffe]

Based on this request from @tomdayaloveforever:

Simply amazing 🤩 I have one more request: In the 90s/2000s, married to a supermodel (people speculate because they got married quickly and Eminem is Eminem). During a Victoria Secrets fashion show, a singer who attacked their relationship was going to perform and when Marshall's wife was going to enter, the singer's sound was cut to a diss song by Marshall playing while his wife parades with a chain with his name/initials around her neck.

Title: Runway of Defiance

The air was electric in the bustling backstage of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. Supermodels flitted between stylists, makeup artists, and wardrobe assistants, each one a vision of glamour. You stood among them, the newest face in the lineup, and the wife of none other than Eminem.

Their marriage had been a whirlwind—a lightning-fast romance that captivated the tabloids and sent gossip columns into overdrive. Many doubted the union, speculating it wouldn’t last. Others criticized you for tying the knot with the controversial rapper, while some outright dismissed your love as a publicity stunt. None of it mattered to you though. You knew the truth of your connection, and so did Marshall.

Tonight was your night. Your debut on the Victoria’s Secret runway was a dream come true, but the whispers backstage were hard to ignore. Scheduled to perform was pop singer Roxy, who had made her disdain for you and Eminem’s relationship publicly known. The feud between Eminem and Roxy had only fueled the media firestorm, and tonight promised to be another chapter in their ongoing saga.

As you slipped into your final outfit, a stunning ensemble of shimmering silver, a stylist handed her one last accessory: a delicate yet bold chain with the initials "M.M." embedded in diamonds. She smiled, feeling a surge of confidence as she fastened it around her neck. This wasn’t just a piece of jewelry—it was a statement.

Out on the runway, Roxy’s set began. The crowd cheered, oblivious to the tension brewing behind the scenes. You waited for your cue, the familiar nerves tingling through you as you took a deep breath.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Just as Roxy launched into the chorus of her hit song—one infamous for its not-so-subtle digs at you and Marshall—the music abruptly cut out. The speakers crackled, and the room held its breath. Then, a familiar beat dropped.

Marshall's voice boomed through the venue, the diss track he’d recorded in response to Roxy’s jabs playing loud and clear. The crowd gasped, the atmosphere thick with shock and anticipation.

You stepped onto the runway, your head held high. You moved with grace, your every step exuding confidence. The chain around your neck caught the light, the "M.M." glinting with each stride. The audience’s eyes were glued to you, captivated by the audacity and brilliance of the moment.

Marshall had orchestrated this. His way of standing by your side, even when he wasn’t physically there. It was bold, defiant, and so very him.

As the diss track continued to play, you finished your walk, pausing at the end of the runway to flash a knowing smile. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the room electric.

Backstage, the producers scrambled, Roxy fuming as she stormed off. But you didn’t care. You had made your statement, and it was clear: you were a team, and no one would tear you apart, especially not pop stars and media outlets.

As you exited the stage, your phone buzzed in your dressing room. A text from Marshall.

"You killed it out there. Proud of you. Love you."

You smiled, and your heart swelled with love. You had faced the world’s judgment, but with Marshall by your side, you felt unstoppable. Together, you were a force to be reckoned with—a love story that no one could rewrite.

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

The aftermath of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show was a whirlwind. Social media exploded with reactions, from adoration to outrage. Headlines screamed about the unexpected diss track, labeling it everything from a power move to an outright scandal. Yet, amidst the chaos, you and Marshall had found solace in each other.

Back at your home in Detroit, you sat on your couch, scrolling through the flood of news and comments online. Marshall, his signature smirk playing on his lips, glanced over at you. "Looks like we broke the internet."

You chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Was that the plan? Become the first couple to cross the tabloid rumors and make it online?"

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "The plan was to show them we don’t back down. No matter what they say."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "You didn’t have to do that, you know. I could’ve handled it."

"I know you could’ve," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But I wanted to. No one messes with my wife and gets away with it."

His words sent a warmth through you, the kind that only he could ignite. Despite his tough exterior and sharp tongue, Marshall had always been fiercely protective of you, your love a sanctuary from the relentless scrutiny of the outside world.

As the days passed, the buzz around the fashion show didn’t die down. Invitations for interviews and talk shows poured in, each one eager to get their perspective on the night’s events. But you and Marshall remained silent, choosing instead to let your actions speak for themselves.

One evening, as you sat in your living room, you were scrolling through fan reactions on a chat board, you paused on a particular post. It was a fan art of your runway walk, the chain around her neck prominently displayed, with the caption: A queen standing by her king.

You showed it to Marshall, who grinned. "Looks like they get it."

You nodded, your heart swelling with pride. "Yeah, they do."

Still, not everyone was pleased. Roxy’s camp had issued a statement, calling the incident "unprofessional" and "disrespectful." Rumors swirled of a potential lawsuit, but you weren’t worried. You knew Marshall had dealt with worse before, and together, you could handle anything.

One afternoon, as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace in your backyard with the girls, Marshall’s phone buzzed. It was Paul, his manager, with news that Roxy had indeed filed a lawsuit for defamation and breach of contract.

Marshall sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Looks like it’s time to lawyer up."

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "We’ll get through it. Like we always do."

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve. "Yeah, we will."

As the legal battle loomed, you decided to take control of the narrative. You agreed to an exclusive interview with a respected magazine, one that had always treated you with fairness. The feature would focus on your journey from a small-town girl to a supermodel, touching on your marriage with Marshall, but with an emphasis on her resilience and strength.

The interview was a hit, painting you not as a mere extension of your famous husband, but as a force in your own right. It resonated with fans and critics alike, shifting the public perception in your favor.

When it became apparent that Roxy had lost the fight in the press, the lawsuit was eventually dropped. So you and Marshall celebrated quietly, toasting to your victory with glasses of champagne in their living room.

As you clinked your glasses, Marshall leaned in, his voice low and filled with affection. "No matter what comes our way, we’ve got each other. That’s all that matters."

You smiled, your heart full. "Always."

Your bond, forged in the fire of public scrutiny and hardened by your unwavering love, remained unbreakable. Together, you stood as a testament to the power of unity, proving that no amount of criticism or controversy could shake the foundation you had built.

In a world that constantly tried to tear you down, you and Marshall rose above, stronger than ever, your love a beacon of defiance and strength.

[insatiablexi]

[bawbawbridgie]

who would’ve thought that id need to change one of my presentation slides! here is now an updated version of this scene:

[guhitsaglit]

Mr. Evan "not really a guest" Buckley walks in on Eddie having drinks with some girl??? hmmm

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[hanaberin]

feeling good !!

[fiveredfox]

REWARD: Who is this? What is here name?! 🔄 Please 🔄

[succulentsiren]