#i feel so so so bad and i reached out to her i just wish i could have known who she was earlier

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

Hey i really loved ur imagine of Jude x drunk gf and i was wondering if you would do a part 2 of Jude taking care of the reader when she’s hungover the morning after 🎐🤍

a/n: Your wish is my command! This is my first request, thank you so much! I hope you like it.

PART 1: LATE NIGHT, SOFT HANDS

EARLY MORNING, SWEET KISSES

• jude bellingham x gf!reader

• warnings: (English is not my first language!)

• summary: Jude Bellingham cares for his hungover girlfriend the next morning, while they share playful banter about her drunken antics, including her insistence that he’s “no fun.” Grateful for his help, she promises not to drink like that again. Obviously he doesn’t believe her.

The first light of dawn crept through the blinds of Jude’s bedroom, casting a faint, golden hue over the soft bedding. He was wide awake, his back resting against the headboard as he quietly scrolled through his phone, glancing occasionally at the girl beside him. His girlfriend, half-buried under the duvet, lay curled up like a cat, one arm lazily draped over his waist.

Jude sighed softly, running a hand through her tousled hair, a mix of amusement and adoration on his face. Last night had been a whirlwind—well, for her, mostly. Now, as the sun slowly rose, he glanced at the cup of warm tea and the aspirin on the nightstand. He knew she’d need it when she woke up. She always did after nights like this.

A soft groan escaped from under the covers. Jude looked down, watching as she shifted slightly, squinting against the sunlight. Her hand reached out blindly, patting his leg beside her before her eyes finally fluttered open.

"Morning," he said quietly, his voice gentle.

She stirred slightly, groaning softly as her hands moved up to rub her eyes. Jude couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. She was always cute in the mornings, but hungover mornings were a whole different story.

His girlfriend winced and groaned again. "Too loud..." she whispered, her voice hoarse, cracking with the fatigue of the night before.

"That bad, huh?" Jude teased, his tone light. He pulled the blanket up a little higher over her, his fingers brushing against her bare legs beneath his hoodie. It looked good on her, hanging off her shoulders like it did, she was practically drowning in his clothes, but there was something endearing about it. She just snuggled deeper into it, grateful for the comfort.

Her brow furrowed as if the light was too much to handle. "Why do I feel like death?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jude chuckled—a little too loudly, much to her dismay—and gestured toward the nightstand where the cup of tea sat. “Tea. No better cure for a hangover, or so my mum says.”

She took the cup gratefully, wrapping both hands around it as if it were her lifeline. "Thank you. You're the best."

“I’m the what?” He teased.

“Juuude…,” she groaned and took another sip.

For a second, she didn't move, just lay there, cocooned in warmth and regret of her yesterday’s decisions. But then, after a moment, she blinked, taking in her surroundings. The bed, the clothes she was wearing—his hoodie, his sweats—and her makeup-free face. It clicked in her mind, and she glanced up at Jude, a soft smile pulling at her lips.

"You did this, didn't you?" she asked, her voice still quiet, but there was gratitude there.

Jude's smile widened as he turned off his phone to look at her. “I did what I could. I honestly forgot how elusive you are when you're tipsy...” He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. “Figured you wouldn’t want to wake up in that tight dress with your makeup all smudged.”

She wanted to kiss him and throw herself into his arms, but her body was half asleep and half aching. “You're an angel,” she mumbled, slowly trying to sit up straighter. She winced at the movement, one hand coming up to cradle her pounding head. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“Well, you did say you were ‘not plastered’ when you got home,” Jude teased again, gesturing for her to take another sip of the tea.

She shot him a half-hearted glare, but the corner of her lips twitched upward. "Shut up. I didn’t think I was that bad."

"You couldn’t even walk straight," he reminded her, raising an eyebrow.

She groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "God, I’m never drinking again."

Jude couldn’t help but laugh, sitting down beside her. "We’ll see about that."

She chuckled softly, trying not to choke, and playfully stuck out her tongue at him.

“I didn’t give you a lot of trouble, right?” Biting her bottom lip softly, she looked at him, hoping not to feel so embarrassed and that her loving—not at all teasing—boyfriend would lie to her a little. She asked it casually, almost like she was sure the answer would be 'no'. Nevertheless Jude had that mischievous glint in his eye, the one that told her she wasn’t getting off that easily.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice teasingly. "Trouble? You? Oh no, nothing too bad. Except for the part where you insisted you wanted to cook."

Her hand shot out from under the pillow, pushing him lightly as she groaned again. "I did not."

"Oh, you did," he continued, his grin widening as he leaned back putting both hands behind his head. "You were all over the place in the kitchen. And let’s not forget that you don’t even know how to cook sober."

She pulled the pillow down just enough to peek at him, her cheeks flushing as she recalled blurry flashes of her actions. “Okay, maybe I tried to cook. That doesn’t sound like trouble though."

"Oh, it was trouble," Jude teased. “I had to practically wrestle a pan out of your hand. You kept telling me you knew what you were doing.”

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh God."

He nodded solemnly, barely suppressing a laugh. "Swear.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, I’m hilarious,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She shook her head, fighting the smile that was growing. “I’m not even gonna entertain that.”

“Sure you will.” He crossed his arms. “And you told me that last night…”

She pressed her lips, feeling a pang of guilt despite the teasing. He didn’t seem to care, but still, the words lingered in her chest. “Fine. I’m never calling you not funny again, okay? Pinky promise.”

Jude’s grin softened, and he held out his pinky. “Deal,” he said, hooking his pinky with hers.

For a second, they stayed like that, just holding the promise between them. She tried not to laugh at how serious they both looked in that moment. It was ridiculous—making a pinky promise over something so silly—but it felt sweet in its own way.

Jude finally broke the silence, leaning down to kiss the top of her head gently. “You’re something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice warm and affectionate.

She leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he cupped her cheek, his thumb gently brushing across her skin. Her headache seemed to ease slightly at the comfort of his touch, the warmth of his presence.

The moment settled into a comfortable quiet, and she lay back down, her head resting against his leg now, looking up at him.

"Thanks, though. For taking care of me." Her voice was softer, sincere, as she closed her eyes briefly, still fighting the lingering effects of last night. "I don’t deserve you."

Jude’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press another kiss to the top of her head. "You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always take care of you, even when you try to burn down my kitchen."

She laughed, though it was a quiet, tired laugh, and when she opened her eyes again, he was still looking down at her with that same fond expression. His hand came up, his thumb grazing her cheek, tracing the curve of her face with such tenderness that it made her heart swell.

"How do you do that?" she murmured, her voice sleepy again but full of affection.

"Do what?"

"Make everything feel better, even when I feel like absolute garbage."

He shrugged lightly. "Just part of the job, I guess."

She smiled, reaching up to cover his hand with hers, squeezing it gently. "You’re good at it."

"And you’re worth it.”

[yandere-romanticaa]

There's something so oddly sweet about the "childhood friends to lovers" pipeline in fiction, but with Aemond Targaryen it takes such a deliciousy dark turn that my mind couldn't help but to linger on it.

Aemond can still recall every single harsh word his family has even thrown his way, how he can still feel the way his eyes would get wet but he had to hold it all in, because he could not afford to let himself to show even an ounce of weakness, not even to himself. Countless hours were wasted with him staring off into the distance somewhere, admiring the noble beasts which were flying high above in the sky, far away from the reach of anything and anyone.

Those were the times he was most envious of not having a dragon of his own. The green little beast known as jealousy would take over, causing him to want to step off the deep end.

Just as he felt the skin of his knuckles threatening to rip due to his tight grip, a warm pair of hands would make their way to him and hold onto him gently, as if he actually mattered somehow in the grand scheme of things.

Most of the time he would just stand there and let you embrace him, his heart doing cartwheels in his chest as his luscious blonde was carried by the wind. Although, if he had a particularly rough day, he would sometimes simply melt into your embrace. Cheek against cheek, Aemond could feel the worry radiating off you in spades.

It was dreadful how absolutely euphoric that made him feel.

You were his only real playmate growing up, causing him to become dreadfully possessive over you. It got so bad that Aemond outright forbade Aegon and Haelena of all people from even looking at you, let alone actually seeking you out. None of the other children in court were safe either as rumors spread fast that they ought to steer clear far away from you, lest they wished to suffer Aemond's thorny wrath.

The little paradise Aemond had cultivated for himself was not meant to last. One the same night he finally claimed his dragon, you had vanished along with your family.

He still remembers how excited he was to share the news with you, how he wished to tell you that once he was skilled enough he wished you to be the first person who would fly with him on his dragon.

No one else had the right to that privilege, absolutely no one.

But, things didn't go to plan. And truly, when do they ever?

Aemond had lost a lot that night and gained just as much. He had claimed a dragon, Vhagar, one of the largest and strongest dragons there were. In just one evening he became a one man army, there was nothing that could hold him back.

He can still feel just how tight the chair was he sat on as the maesters stitched his damaged eye, how hot the cracking fire next to him was, just how loud everyone was being... It was all irrelevant. The moment he could, he was going to seek you out and tell you everything, share each and every detail he could about his dragon...

... Until his mother told him the news.

Your family relocated due to some personal reasons and as Alicent went on and on about that, little Aemond felt his world shatter in a heartbeat.

He would rather take ten thousand cuts and stabs to his eye than ever face the pain he felt once he learned of your departure.

"It's for your own good too..." he can recall his mother saying, her voice sounding a little defeated.

"You shouldn't tie yourself to one person like you already have... I worry about you, Aemond."

That dark and stormy night, Aemond had made two vows to himself, vows he was going to sign with his own blood if he had to. The first was that no matter where in the world you were, no matter how far your family may try to take you, there would be no distance he would not tread, no man, woman or child he wouldn't slay just to hear the sound of your voice, to feel your soft skin, to be with you.

And the other was that he would make due on his promise of giving you a ride on Vhagar. He was in your debt for even trying to claim the mighty beast, it was only fair.

Aemond Targaryen took those two vows and kept them under lock and key, hidden deeply in his dark, which grew darker and darker. At the rate he was going, he would turn into a more terrifying beast than the actual dragon he had. Although, even dragons had their hearts.

You just happened to be Aemond's.

And he was going to come to you one day, soaked in the blood of his enemies, his arms open wide as he makes his way to embrace you once more.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Still got a bug but I couldn’t go another day without sharing more of this beloved story of mine 💜 next update will return next week! Just a couple more before we end part II and begin part III.

Transcript under the cut

Nancy: [panting] Ok...ok, I-I think I get it. Thank you.

Darling: It’s not even close to the real thing. I can give it to you, if you want it. No strings.

Nancy Narrates: [If my heart wasn’t so lost in Vanessa, would I have said yes]

Nancy: [whispers] I’m not a cheater.

Darling: Ah. Right. Your boyfriend. Fuck, my bad. I got caught up in the moment. Come on, let’s wake up M and Knox and call it a night.

Nancy Narrates: [Boyfriend. Not once did I think about Geoffrey]

Darling: You’ll figure it out. It’s not easy but you’ll find the real thing. But, if you tryna figure it out some more, holla at me. [chuckles]

Nancy: [chuckles lightly]

-

Bob: Found something!

Geoffrey: Seriously? Is it an address?

Bob: Not an address. It’s a phone number. I doubt the Villareal’s have their residence shared to the public.

Geoffrey: Dude, you are seriously a genius. I owe you one!

Bob: No worries, my man! Nothing gets me ready for 8am exams like a good old fashioned 2am espionage.

Geoffrey: Anything to see Nancy smile again. I’m going to surprise her on our anniversary.

Bob: If I don’t end up as crazy about Eliza as you are with Nance, then I’m doing something wrong.

Geoffrey: DId you have fun with the Theta’s tonight?

Nancy: Yeah... yeah, it was fun..

Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about our anniversary all day. I can’t wait to take you out. Come on, let’s get you to bed.

Nancy Narrates: [He doesn’t deserve my lying]

Nancy Narrates: [I wish I could say it would be the last time I did]

-

Geoffrey: I know I’ve said it already, but you look amazing tonight, Nance.

Nancy: Thank you. You look very handsome too.

Geoffrey: My girlfriend has great taste in wardrobe. I say it everytime.

Nancy: You’re really easy to dress. You’re like my living doll.

Geoffrey: I can’t believe it’s been 2 years. I still can’t believe how lucky I am. When you said you had feelings for me that day in the courtyard, I almost didn’t believe it. I thought you were too perfect for me.

Nancy: [frowns] That’s not true. You’re a catch, Geoffrey. Anyone would be so lucky to have you.

Geoffrey: I’m glad it wasn’t just anyone. I’m so happy it was you.

Nancy: [smiles softly] Thank you for loving me. It’s more than I deserve.

Geoffrey: [grins] You deserve it all. Here’s to many more years of you and me. Oh! By the way, I have a gift for you, and don’t tell me I shouldn’t have.

Geoffrey: Ta-da!! I know how much you miss your friend Vanessa, from high school so I had Bobby do some digging around. Didn’t find much but we found her number! The number works too, I called it and it went to voicemail. You should give her a call! Catch up.

Geoffrey: I get it, Nance. Other than you, Bob is like my favorite person in the world. If he ever up and moved without a word, I’d be crushed. I know you’re making a ton of new friends now, but hey, there really is nothing like having your best friend around, right?

Geoffrey: Nancy?

Nancy Narrates: [What would I even say. How do I even being to convey the longing, the sorrow, the love that I’ve held on to for two years. What would I do when I hear her voice again]

[phone rings]

Vanessa: Hi, you’ve reached Vanessa Villareal. I’m away from the phone but if you leave your name and a call back number, I’ll be sure to reach out to you. Chao.

[beep]

[buckgasms]

Bucky with a reader who reads smutty books?

She's perfected a straight face reading technique for when she's sat in public reading filth. Bucky thinks she reads innocent shit like fairy tales or soemthing so he buys her books like that (she loves his effort but finds them so boring that they live perminantley on the shelf in their living room).

One day she leaves the book open in the living room while she pops to the toilet and he picks it up to see what all the fuss is about. She comes back to him blushing like mad on the sofa reading the smuttiest smut of all smut and looking up at her like 😳 "this your sorta thing huh?" And while he isn't jealous that she reads that he finds it strange that she hid it from him. He asks her to show him what she finds so hot about it and they get to baby making ;)

-🐰

Hey 🐰! Hope you've been ok?

Yes I like this very much. I'm picturing a sort of Avengers Bucky boyfriend because we know what happens when Daddy finds Princess' smutty book 🫣

I imagine the confusion starts because all the covers have various fairytale-esque pictures. You'd just need to look a bit closer to realise they were slightly off!

When he asks why you didn't mention it, you just ramble about how you didn't want to be weird and if he thought it was too kinky or whatever you were happy to just keep it to yourself.

He just tuts, flipping through the pages and reads the bit you just were. I'm imagining it's a red riding hood book where the big bad wolf is eating her, but just in a very different way.

"Wow. He's really working on her there huh? And you keep a straight face when you're reading this stuff?"

You giggle and nod but he keeps flicking through and you sense that perhaps he's a little miffed about something. So you crawl over and climb into his lap, throwing the book to one side.

"Are you mad about my book Bucky?" You say softly, running your hands over his chest and rolling your hips gently.

He grunts a little and can't resist holding on to your hips and squeezing gently at your waist.

"No" he pouts, "just wish you woulda told me you like that stuff... Coulda been doing...." He peters off but you can't let that slide.

"Wait, could have been doing what Bucky? You wanna be my big bad wolf?" You grip his face and lean down to kiss him, not missing the way his hips push upwards, enjoying the way his fingers stroke down your neck and move to grip your waist.

"I dunno, what is it you want me to do?"

You sit back on his lap and grab the book, flicking through as he massages little circles on your hips.

"Well I guess in this one... He chases her a little, and rips her dress off.... Oh and there's a bit where he pins her down and yknow...licks at her..."

You look up from the book and see Bucky staring at you with a devilish look in his eyes.

"Well then little red, you better get running..."

You giggle but he pulls you in closer and whispers in your ear, "or I'll fuck ya right here..." Before scraping his teeth across your soft skin.

You squeal as you leap from his lap and pelt down the corridor to the lift that will take you to your floor. You see him coming round the corner as you make it, slamming on the 'close door' button as he approaches, a big grin on his face.

You sigh as the doors slide shut and then you have the agonising wait to reach your floor. It's only a few floors down, but you wonder how long it will take him to catch up.

Before you have much time then doors slide open and the corridor is eerily quiet. You can't hear any sound other than the low hum of the lift.

You tentatively step out and make to run to your shared apartment with Bucky. You get a few steps to the door when you feel a metal hand grip your mouth and a strong arm wrap around your waist, holding you tight.

"Gotcha..."

📚

He ripped your dress to pieces and pinned you down on the floor, barely making it into the apartment before he was dragging your heat to his face and devouring you. All you could do was cling to the rug as he sucked, nibbled and licked at your sensitive folds.

He carries his prize to the bedroom and puts you on your knees, ass in the air and places your book in front of you.

"Read it. Out loud..."

You flush furiously as you hear his zipper being pulled down and the mattress dip as he settles behind you.

As you begin to read his cock is dragged along your pussy, teasing you and torturing you as you struggle to read.

"Buckkky..." You whine as he presses his leaking tip just a little inside, but he stops and lands so swats onto your ass.

"Come on babygirl, I wanna know what happens. I'm pretty invested in the plotline now yknow..."

You pant and moan but manage to keep reading, describing how the wolf/man fucks the heroine, claiming her body as his, biting and bruising her delicate body. His big cock stretching her wide, hitting parts that no one has been able to before.

The book falls from your grip as he pounds into you. It was a bit of a head rush to have your incredibly hot boyfriend enacting smut and you let out a long, happy moan as he pulls you upwards, spearing his cock deeper, hitting more sensitive places with unrelenting lust.

"Oh my god Bucky.... Please, can I come please?"

He growls in your ear and uses his metal hand to grip your throat, squeezing slightly making your eyes roll. You cling onto the cool metal for dear life, as you crash into your peak, screaming out for him.

You both fall forward, Bucky managing to prop himself up to avoid squishing you, but as your walls continue to flutter around him, he can't hold himself any longer and falls down on top of you.

You giggle and wiggle until you have him resting on your chest, fingers running through his hair as he presses kisses to your soft skin.

📚

Omg imagine if this happened 🫣 also I may need to go back to writing ABO stuff because 🤤

[ohsohoney]

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

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

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

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness. 

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could. 

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour. 

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now. 

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once. 

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried. 

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant. 

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn’t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on. 

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair. 

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv. 

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself. 

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–” 

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use. 

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…” 

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed. 

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction. 

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun

[itadore-you]

every day I think abt this one fic I used to follow like the gospel from 2020 WRITERMILK WHO WROTE FUCKTOY ON WATTPAD U MADE ME WHO I AM U GOT ME INTO FANFICTION I LOVE YOU

[coulsonlives]

To the peep in my inbox here ya go, fuck it:

Tldr: an anti posts ship hate in a tag, a trans person tells them to tag it, the anti is offended and bullies them for months, and calls them a transphobe for fictional headcanons the anti also has, and calls them a number of slurs including crazy, cissy, etc, until they leave and possibly commit suicide.

The anti’s name is “Howl” and he’s @eightdoctor.

The victim is Jazz @angerissue @helicarrier.

For Howl, I looked through his blog to see if I could find anything on him, and he lives in the uk or across the pond, based on timezones, and he’s posted a lot of selfies so if you ever come across someone like this, steer fucking clear if you value your mental health. (This is readily accessible public info on his blog fwiw.) I feel sick to my stomach so I’ll just post all the shit I found.

I think it started with this,

Howl posted anti shit in a character tag:

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/672832902144376832/wait-this-person-is-so-crazy-check-this-shit

He was obviously looking to start shit and annoy people and be a ship policer, but Angerissue pointed this out and she got so much harassment in return.

Howl literally reblogged that ship post over and over again to shit on Angerissue with new little "damning things” he got from her huge HUGE blog that she ran, like did he just sit on her blog for hours to find these tiny things or wtf?? There’s so much stuff on her blog, I can’t even begin to think how he even found what he was posting. What happened to don’t like don’t read:

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/676090902015524864

After that came this:

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/676032972316688384/this-person-went-to-the-er-cuz-i-called-them-out

“Haha cissy”

“White savior tendencies”

What the actual fuck?

I looked at Angerissue’s posts and things to see if I could find any white savior narrative and I found literally nothing, not even anything about race at all.

“I wish they’d died in the er actually”

He literally encouraged his posse to bully her off tumblr, a bunch of antis joined in. Someone said Angerissue blocked them and it must have meant she was a homophobe (noo, it couldn’t be because they were harassing her, no way, she must have blocked them because she’s a homophobe, these fucking wankers with no compassion). Someone said “wow she posted all that instead of just apologizing” when nobody asked for an apology or even tried to talk to her, it was all attacks!

https://waxwingsfail.tumblr.com/post/672859227785773056/brooo-are-we-just-gonna-ignore-this

Look at all the checkboxes this guy checks off. He calls Angerissue ableist while being ableist himself (“this person is crazy”), and while Angerissue I’m guessing is disabled because she has migraines! And lots of other things he can’t even substantiate, while he acts hateful about cis people himself and calls her a “cissy”. I’m fucking LIVID.

I guess nobody actually went to Angerissue to talk to her, they just jumped into the mob with their pitchforks.

The only KIND OF questionable thing was “female pronouns” but a lot of people make that mistake and I checked Angerissue’s blog, she had changed it?? And any thing else just seems like bad wording, I don’t see any actual transphobia, she checks out to be an actually good person and her comments on her blog even say she was open to fixing things she does wrong, I just.

All of Angerissue’s phrasing was easily explained by ignorance or just bad wording, and I know someone who gets migraines, sometimes you just fuck up your words (idr what the name for that is) so that’s a possibility too, why attribute such tiny fuckups to malice right out of the gate?!

(Don’t even get me started on Howl’s about page. He’s obviously an anti so this whole thing just reeks of a smear campaign.)

Also Howl has a headcanon of his own about Bruce Banner (the character Angerissue writes and Howls’ special interest) having internalized homophobia too, so why did he say “lol they made them a transphobe with their whole chest” about Angerissue like it was an attack on her as a person?? And say “can we bully her off the website now”?

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/180778623661/what-are-your-top-10-headcanons-about-bruce

He was shitting on Angerissue and telling people to bully her for literally the same headcanon he has! What a hypocrite.

I also found this joke post a long time back into his blog, but obviously it’s not just a joke for him, it’s something he bullied Angerissue over because he couldn’t accept her own headcanons and he even bullied her over things he had the same headcanon for (but he didn’t mention that of course, because if Angerissue was horrible for having that headcanon it would mean he was too, and he couldn’t have that could he?):

https://eightdoctor.tumblr.com/post/177280551336

Also Howl captured a paragraph where Angerissue explained Bruce Banner’s mental illness started in his childhood then got worse when he met another character (Wanda maximoff), and right below that, even tho the EVIDENCE WAS RIGHT THERE IN THE CAPTURE, Howl accused Angerissue of making that new character cause Bruce Banner’s mental illness instead of it starting in his youth (here, under the reblog with the weird dick comment...)

This went on for months apparently.

The worst part is, Angerissue says she is nonbinary on her blog so I can’t imagine how hard this was for her, imagine being called a transphobe for a headcanon by someone who has the same headcanon.

Edit: Thanks to a comment I just learned that “cissy” is a derogatory slur made towards cis people, so by calling Angerissue “cissy” Howl was implying she wasn’t trans (or nonbinary), but cis. If that isn’t transphobic, idk what is. You can’t take identities away to bully or punish people, holy shit.

Now Angerissue seems to have not been on for months, and she made some very worrying posts about killing herself. I was talking to one of her friends which is how I found about all this, and they haven’t heard from her either, even though they’ve been in good contact for a year. Angerissue put ten years of her life into a passion character, she made gut-wrenchingly beautiful gifs and fics and made a mainstay blog for the roleplay commuity, and this is what she got. This was the kind of person she was. I hope she’s still alive but I don’t know if she is, and I’m horrified and sick and something needs to be done even if that isn’t the case.

THIS ISNT FUNNY, ITS NOT A FUCKING JOKE, STOP BULLYING PEOPLE OVER FUCKING HEADCANONS OR HONEST MISTAKES BECAUSE YOU WANT A TEMPORARY LAUGH ABOUT HOW (NOT) MORALLY SUPERIOR YOU ARE, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKS.

Footnote edit 1: Confirmation directly from Jazz's blog that Howl spent at least 3 hours initially on her blog to dig around for things, then posted more things after a month, and a lot more things that prove Howl's accusations about her were false.

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

[bunnyboy-juice]

srry for the sad posting

[yaminerua]

my mum: stopped me at every opportunity I asked to come see my dying grandpa bc ‘you don’t want to see him like this’ even tho I already had seen him and he had been happy to see me after years estranged from that side of the family and I very much wanted to fit as much time with him in as possible before it was too late and in the end she blocked me from all of it

also my mum: you never came to see your grandpa, you don’t give a shit

and now my mum yet again: won’t let me come see my gran who has been losing weight and falling and breaking bones a lot and been in and out of hospital since being on her own. Didn’t let me go talk to gran when we were both at my great aunt’s funeral last year and so I never saw her and she only found out I was there through other people who saw me. Refuses every time I ask to see my gran, including now when I’ve got presents for her

also my fucking mum right now in the same breath as refusing to allow me to come over: you never come to see your gran, you don’t give a shit

make it make fucking sense jfc

[kkyaka]

I wish people wanted me to be their friend :/

[gandreida]

How do I say “you’re fine but i would be happier if we just didn’t talk anymore” to my mom in a way that doesnt feel cruel

[widevibratobitch]

.

[doggirlnarcolepsy]

.