Marshall Mathers - Tumblr Posts

What's up, ladies? My name's Slim Shady
I'm the lead singer in D12 baby
Eminem is known for being a really offensive rapper, but hiding a slur only Neurodivergents can claim in the final verse of 'Rap God' is diabolical.

The speed of the rapping with the word included just makes it less acceptable for neurotypicals to rap, while being even harder to rap for literally everyone else. I'm no Eminem Stan, but it's almost an admirable type of Sadism.









Young Eminem đ (and his gorgeous blue eyes)

Hereâs Leo!! My favorite turtle is Leo from my favorite show wearing my favorite music artistsâ merch! (Heâs wearing my mini backpack lmao) đ©”đą
pushing buttons ~ eminem
word count: 1912
request?: yes!
@thatonegirlthatlikesthings âHi me again I literally love your writing so much omg I was wondering if you could once again indulge my Eminem obsession cuz my baby donât get enough loveđ„șđ„ș I was thinking like a angst/fluff where MGK tries to hit on the reader even though heâs with Meg Fox now and Em loses it and dr Dre and Paul try to call him down but it doesnât really work and the reader has to chill him out. I love you I love your writing and I love you bye!đ„°âșïžâ€ïžâ€ïžâ
description: in which his enemy tries to push his buttons by flirting with his girl
pairing: eminem x female!reader
warning: swearing
masterlist

âWhat the fuck is that prick doing here?â
Marshall glared at the tall blonde standing across the room with his arm around a familiar actress. It was the night of his launch party for his new album, and he thought it was just supposed to be personal friends of his as well as his friends from the industry. However, a few others from the industry had arrived as well, including the infamous Machine Gun Kelly.
âPaul invited him,â Marshallâs girlfriend, (Y/N) responded. âSaid you two should try and squash the beef. Fans are getting tired of it.â
âSquashing the beef and becoming friends with the enemy are two totally different things,â Marshall hissed.
âYou donât have to be friends,â (Y/N) told him. âJustâŠshake his hand, look friendly for the pictures, end the beef.â
Marshall rolled his eyes as (Y/N) wrapped an arm around his waist and gave him a slight squeeze. âI know, I tried to tell Paul he should run this past you first. But him and MGKâs manager think itâs best for both of you to end the beef. He wants to move on with his new punk pop genre, you should move on too considering the fact that you absolutely destroyed him.â
She lowered her voice to a whisper for that last part, causing Marshall to smirk.
âThis is gonna push me to drink,â he muttered as he noticed Kells approaching him.
âDonât you fucking dare,â (Y/N) hissed. âIf you break your sobriety, I will be your worst nightmare.â
Marshall smiled at her before dropping it to glare at Kells.
âHey man,â Kells started. âListen, thanks for the invitation. I know things have been rocky between us, but I hope you know I never meant any harm by my tweet about Hailie, and I still view you as a massive inspiration to me. I just thoughtâŠmaybe Iâd get more recognition with the diss, and it worked. It just sort of fucked up my rap career in the process.â
(Y/N) gave Marshall a quick look before sipping on the drink she had in her hand. They were both shocked by such a mature response from Kells, especially after the stuff Kells said about Marshall following the drop of Not Alike and Killshot.
She was watching her boyfriend expectantly as he processed what had been said to him. He glanced back at (Y/N) finally before saying, âNo hard feelings, man. Tensions ran high, we both said some shit, I think itâs time we get past it.â
Kells smiled and offered a hand to Marshall. Although reluctant at first, Marshall took it and shook his hand. Kells soon left and went back to his girlfriend, knowing not to overstay his welcome.
âWas that so hard?â (Y/N) asked. âAt least heâs being mature about it, too.â
âA little too mature,â Marshall said.
âStop it, you just donât like him. Letâs get a non-alcoholic beverage.â
~~~~~~
As the night continued, Marshall was pulled from (Y/N) as people kept coming and congratulating him on the album. She wasnât too shocked, it was a normal occurrence. Luckily enough, she had come to know most of the people at the party through Marshall, so it wasnât like she was awkwardly standing around for any amount of time.
She was at the snack table when a tall stature came to stand next to her.
âYou lost your boyfriend, huh?â
(Y/N) looked up to see Kells stood next to her, a friendly smile on her face.
Despite the feud between the two, (Y/N) never had any sort of opinion on Kells. She hadnât listened to his music - besides that one song with Camilla Cabello that blew up - and she didnât want to form an opinion based on a beef she wasnât even a part of. So, him standing next to her didnât make her as angry as it had made Marshall earlier. Instead, she smiled back at him.
âYeah,â she said. âNothing new of course. Everyone congratulating him on the album and whatnot.â
âSeems like a lot of people just trying to kiss his ass.â
(Y/N) shrugged. âThat may be true in some cases. Most of the people here who have already worked with him and known him for so long know better against that. Maybe itâs because theyâve already worked with him though, who knows. Whereâs Megan?â
Kells gestured aimlessly into the crowd. âAlso pulled away from me. Talking toâŠsomeone I guess.â
He didnât sound too concerned over it, although maybe it was just the same situation (Y/N) was in. Megan was pretty popular as an actress, this was probably nothing new for Kells either.
âSo, how did you and Em meet?â he asked, offering her one of the two red cups he had in his hand. (Y/N) didnât think much of it at first. She figured he had probably gotten a drink for Megan then realized he had lost her in the crowd.
âWe met through a mutual friend, actually. One from back in Detroit,â she explained. âI knew who Marshall was, obviously, but I was never really a hip hop fan. We got to talking and before I knew it, he was asking me out on a date. We were official within a month, and weâve been together ever since. That was likeâŠthree years ago now, I think.â
She took a sip from the drink Kells had given her and cringed at the strong taste of alcohol in the cup. Noticing this, Kells asked, âToo strong?â
âJust not used to alcohol,â she explained. âIâve mostly given it up in solidarity with Marshall. Iâm proud of his sobriety, even if Iâve only been here for the tail end of it.â
âThatâs lame,â Kells scoffed. âThe old man shouldnât hold you back from doing some fun shit.â
The tone of his voice plus the subtle diss caused a slight feeling of annoyance in her, but she pushed it down. Be the bigger person, she had been telling Marshall all night. She couldnât go against that.
âHeâs not holding me back from anything,â she responded. âI chose to do it. I just know it sucks to have to be sober when everyone around you is drunk or high. I want to be that one person he can confide in in those situations, you know?â
âYouâre too good for him, man,â Kells said. âFor real, you have a heart of gold and the body of a smoke show. You shouldnât be wasting it all on that fucker. You should be getting with a real man.â
(Y/N) shuffled uncomfortably, now putting her cup down on the snack table. âIâm perfectly happy with Marshall, thank you. Besides, you have a girlfriend. One who is literally at this very party right now.â
He waved off the comment, as if it werenât a real concern. (Y/N) looked around the room, desperate to find someone she knew who could save her from that situation.
Across the room, Marshall was glaring daggers into the back of Kellsâ head. He could see the uncomfortable look on (Y/N)âs face, and saw the drink she had just discarded on the table. He knew something was happening, something he didnât like.
âWhy the fuck did you invite him?â he asked Paul. âWhy didnât you warn me first?â
âIt needed to be an authentic meet up to end the beef,â Paul responded. âAfter tonight you wonât see or hear from him ever again.â
âYou bet I wonât, because Iâll have him six feet under the fucking ground if he doesnât get away from (Y/N).â
Paul looked over at the two. His face grew concerned upon seeing (Y/N)âs. âIt canât be anything too serious. Heâs here with Megan, remember?â
âDo you see Megan anywhere around here, Paul?â Marshall asked.
He was so furious you could almost see the cartoon smoke coming from his ears. He was clutching his plastic cup so hard that it wouldâve shattered into a million pieces if it was glass. It dropped from his hand suddenly when he saw Kells grab (Y/N)âs waist, trying to pull her closer to him. Both Paul and Dre had to grab him to stop him from going over and beating the shit out of Kells right then and there.
âCalm down, man,â Dre told him.
âHeâs fucking touching her, Dre!â Marshall snapped. âSheâs obviously uncomfortable, let me go over there and beat the shit out of him!â
âNot here,â Paul said. âNot in front of all these people. Go over and get her - peacefully - then you guys can just leave. This was a stupid idea from me.â
âReally fucking stupid,â Marshall hissed as he pulled away from the two. He tried to keep his anger at bay as he went over and wrapped an arm around (Y/N), effectively pulling her from Kellsâ grasp. âCome on, babe, letâs go home.â
âWhatâs wrong, Marshall? Donât like another man talking to your girl?â Kells challenged.
âI donât like other men grabbing my girl when sheâs obviously uncomfortable, no,â Marshall responded.
âSounds a little insecure to me. Maybe you should work on that, man. Youâll be able to keep up with this absolute bombshell when youâre not so over jealous of her.â
Marshallâs grip on (Y/N)âs waist tightened. She tried to calm him down, but it was obvious he was past the point of no return.
âFuck you,â he snapped. âMan, I donât know what your fucking problem is, but youâre the one who started all of this shit. Now youâre coming here, to my launch party, trying to flirt with my girl, and now youâre insulting me?! Must be a sad existence you live, Kelly, when you canât even be happy with your own success. You have to keep trashing on someone else whoâs doing much better than you.â
Kellsâ cheeks were tinted pink with anger as he glared at the two of them.
âI suggest going to find your girlfriend while you still have one,â (Y/N) told him. âBecause I will be telling her about this wholeâŠincident between us.â
Before any other words could be said, Marshall took (Y/N) and guided her out of the building. When they got to the car, he sat in the driverâs seat for just a second, trying to make himself calm down.
âI should go back in there and fucking kill him,â he said, more to himself than to (Y/N).
âNo you shouldnât,â she told him. âHe was just trying to push your buttons. He seems very happy with Megan, and there were so many other girls at that party he couldâve flirted with if he just wanted to be a scumbag. He only chose me because he knew it would get to you.â
She reached over and put a hand over one of Marshallâs that was clutching the steering wheel. On contact, he loosened his grip and realized how much his hands hurt from holding the wheel too tightly.
âWhatever his intentions were, they donât matter,â she assured him. âI love you, Marshall, and only you. No other asshole will ever come in and swoop me away from you.â
He chuckled at her slight insult, their own way of flirting with one another. He leaned across and kissed her gently on the lips before finally starting the car.
âLetâs get the fuck out of here.â
canât buy me ~ jimmy smith jr.;8 mile
word count: 1577
request?: yes!
@girl-toxxic âreader and Jimmy are in a relationship not long ago but Jimmy was always in love and they both live in the same place, ok but letâs say that reader meets a new friend at work (she is a waitress or can be a babysitter for a rich girl) and this new friend has a lot of money and is very interested in reader and the reader get along well and this makes Jimmy insecure, since readerâs friend gives him small gifts and helps him a lot. But you can add something that is more interesting as the boy confesses his feelings to the reader and she rejects him since Jimmy is her great love and he tells her how can she go out with that poor devil ⊠or something else interesting what occurs to you. And that this ends in a lot of love and smut, bah if you feel comfortableđ€đđâ
description: in which her new friend keeps trying to make advances through gifts, but her heart belongs to one man
pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader
warnings: swearing
masterlist (one, two)

I walked through the door and made a beeline for the kitchen to throw away yet another gift from my not so secret admirer. The last thing I needed was for Jimmy to see what Mark had give me and to get upset about it.
I worked as a waitress at a bar and grill down the road from mine and Jimmyâs house. The hours were only okay, but the tips more than made up for it, especially after our newest regular, Mark, started dining there and specifically asked to have me as his server whenever he was in.
Mark was in his late 30s, handsome, worked a good job that paid good money. He came in one night after he had a particularly hard shift. He sat at the bar, and it was the night I was working it, so I talked him through his rough day. Next thing I knew, he was coming back and asking for me again. We became friendly, but it took me a little too long to realize he wanted to be more than friends.
I turned the corner and yelped as I realized I wasnât alone. Jimmy was leaning against the counter, almost like he was waiting for me.
âHey babe,â I said. âI thought you were at the Shelter with Future tonight.â
His eyes flickered to the gift bag in my hand. âHe wanted me to come home. We havenât had a night together in months.â
âDoesnât help that we both work late night jobs,â I tried to joke. The bag felt heavy in my hand as Jimmy kept looking at it.
âThat rick prick buy you more useless shit?â he asked.
âJimmy,â I sighed.
âSorry, I forgot it was okay for some rich jackass to buy my girlfriend expensive gifts.â
He wouldnât meet my eye. He kept glancing around the kitchen, every so often looking down at the bag in my hand. I dropped everything I was holding onto the floor, including that stupid gift, and raced over to hug him.
âHey,â I said, softly, resting my head on his chest. âHey, you know thereâs nothing to this. Itâs just a guy who doesnât understand Iâm not interested.â
âItâs a guy who has money.â
I lighted my head to look at him. âWhat does that have to do with anything?â
Jimmy shook his head. âNothing, never mind.â
I pulled away from him. âNo, tell me.â When he didnât speak, I took his chin in my hand and forced him to look at me. âJimmy, do you think Iâd leave you for someone who makes more money?â
âHeâd be able to give you what you deserve,â he responded. âA house, a car, expensive gifts - â
âWe have a house,â I cut him off. âYou have a car, and I donât want expensive gifts. I donât want materialistic things, I want happiness and love, and thatâs what I get with you. You really have nothing to worry about in regards to Mark. Youâre the one Iâll always want.â
Jimmy sighed and pulled me close. âIâm sorry.â
âDonât be sorry. Iâll give you that reassurance any day.â
I leaned up to kiss him. He relaxed into the kiss and I leaned into him more.
When he pulled away, Jimmy turned to look at the forgotten present on the floor. âWhat did that asshole get you this time anyways?â
I picked up the bag and pulled out the box that was inside. Jimmy opened the box to reveal the gold necklace Mark had given me. The pendant was gold to match, and it was my initial.
âI was gonna chuck it when I got home,â I told him. Itâs way too flashy for me, it wouldnât match anything I own.â
âDonât throw it out. This is, like, real gold. We can sell it for a good chunk of money.â
I smiled. âI like the way you think, Rabbit.â
~~~~~~
The next day, Jimmy had the night off from the Shelter so he drove me to work. He followed me into the bar and grill with the intentions of sitting at the bar for an hour or two before going home. One of my co-workers spotted us as we walked in and gave me a panicked look. I immediately knew what she was trying to tell me.
I saw Mark sat at the bar before he saw me. I was about to turn to Jimmy to warn him when Mark spotted me and rose from his seat. He had a wide smile on his face, until he saw Jimmy behind me.
âTwo nights in a row, Mark?â I asked, trying to lighten the mood. âThose wings and nachos are gonna start getting to you.â
âI went to the gym this morning, so it cancels out,â he responded. âWhoâs this with you?â
âThis is my boyfriend, Jimmy. I told you about him, remember?â
âOh yeah, theâŠrapper,â Mark said. I didnât miss the way he sneered the word ârapperâ, and Jimmy didnât either.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
Mark shrugged. âNothing. Just stating a fact that (Y/N) told me. Although, rapping at that rundown warehouse probably doesnât pay as much as a real job would.â
Jimmy stepped towards Mark, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. âHey, heâs not worth it. Just go home. Thank you for the ride.â
Jimmy glared at Mark before turning to walk away. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the situation seemed to defuse easily.
And then Matt spoke again, âYeah, go back to the trailer park, white trash.â
Jimmy snapped and charged at Mark before I could stop him. He knocked Mark to the ground and reared up to hit him. I quickly grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as I could until Jimmy was off of Mark.
âGet out before security gets called,â I told him.
He got to his feet and walked out the door before anything else could happen. Mark was getting to his feet and adjusting his clothes. I was trying to calm myself down as I regarded him.
âPlease leave, Mark.â
âSeriously? Your trailer trash boyfriend attacked me, but youâre kicking me out?â
âYou provoked him.â
âI wasnât saying anything he hasnât heard before, or anything that wasnât true.â
âFuck off!â I snapped, my anger finally bubbling over. âYou are fucking insufferable! Iâve told you on multiple occasions that I have a boyfriend, that Iâm not interested. Most people would take the fucking hint and move on. The way youâve been acting, especially tonight, is way out of line. I want you to get the fuck out and if I ever see you here again I will contact the authorities and have you charged for harassment.â
Mark blinked, realized I was being serious, and finally left. He muttered some less than ideal names towards me as he walked out the door. I sighed and buried my head in my hands. I was grateful that there wasnât many customers in the area as all of this went down.
âHey.â I looked up at my co-worker, who was now in front of me. âGo check on your man.â
I thanked her and quickly walked out the door. I didnât expect him to still be outside, so I was surprised to see him stood by his car, almost like he was waiting for me to come out.
âDid I get you in trouble?â
I gave him a small smile and shook my head. âNo. If anything, you did me a favor. When it became evident that Mark wasnât taking no for an answer, all of us wanted to ban him from the place entirely, but we werenât allowed unless he really caused trouble. I think itâs safe to say starting a fight is more than probable cause to make sure he never comes back.â
Jimmy was nodding and rubbing the back of his head. âI probably couldâve handled that better though.â
âI didnât expect you to handle it any other way,â I said. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. âAre you okay?â
Jimmy chuckled slightly. âCocksucker didnât even try to hit me. Did you see his face when I tackled him? He looked like he shit himself.â
I giggled. âYeah, heâs definitely not a fighter. Heâs too much like a high school mean girl for someone who works an office job and makes as much money as he does.â
Jimmy wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him, resting his chin on top of my head. âIâm glad you stopped me. I wouldnât beat the shit out of him if you didnât.â
âI wouldâve liked to see that.â
We both stood in silence for a while. I buried my nose in Jimmyâs sweater, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. It made a warm feeling swell inside of me, like a safe feeling. It reminded me of how I wouldnât want to be anywhere else than in Jimmyâs arms, or with anyone else besides Jimmy. No amounts of money, or people like Mark could ever change my mind about that.
âI should actually go to work,â I said, reluctantly untangling myself from Jimmyâs arms. âIâll see you when I get off?â
âOf course, Iâll come pick you up.â
I smiled and kissed his cheek. I started back towards the restaurant, but paused to turn back to Jimmy. âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â
Happy 16 years of sobriety Em!!! So proud of you!


16 YEARS OF SOBRIETY đ€
Em just posted this photo on social media. He is celebrating 16 years of sobriety today đ„ș.
It is his accomplishment and his only, but Iâm still a bit emotional over this. Iâm not too sure why. I love the fact that he shared his journey and was so public about it. I hope he knows that, by doing so, he is inspiring many people to get better â€ïž
Of all the songs he has written about his drug use, Arose is the most powerful one in my opinion đïž. At least, thatâs the one that made me want to get better â€ïžâđ©č
Congrats Em đ€
Best thing ever, I'm not crying in public, you are đđđđđđđđđ„Čđ„Čđ„Čđ„Čđ„Č

Ok sorry for blowing up your asks, but I have one that might be right up your angsty alleyâŠ
Marshall is having a particularly hard time on one of the anniversaries of Proofâs passingâŠđïž Heâs super vulnerable with reader and she has to comfort him đđ„ș
DIFFICULT đïž
Eminem x Assistant Reader
Synopsis : Em is nowhere to be found as you're waiting for him for an important meeting. Turns out... It's the anniversary of Proof's passing and he needs you.
Tags : Vulnerability - Grief - Angst - Comfort
Author's Note : Thank you for this Ask ! I low-key love that you thought of me when it comes to angsty requests đ. I got inspired and ended up writing quite a bit but I'm afraid it's all over the place. I hope you like it nonetheless. â€ïž
Do you know where he is ? Paul asked, visibly unnerved. He should already be here !Â
Heâs coming, you assured the manager. I reminded him of this meeting on Friday, donât worry, heâs going to show up.Â
Itâs your job to make sure he shows up on time, Y/N, Paul added sternly. Thatâs what personal assistants are for.Â
Heâs never late, you said. Iâm sure thereâs a good reason. Something must have come upâŠÂ
It was unlike Marshall to show up late to a work meeting, especially when it involved music. In the past year, since you had started working for him, he had never shown up late anywhere. If anything, he was a bit neurotic about punctuality. « Early is on time, on time is late » he always said. And when it came to anything regarding his latest album, he tended to show up extremely early, polishing details up until the last minute. Except that, today, he was almost thirty minutes late and you were facing Paul and Dre on your own, and there was only so much small talk you could make.Â
Look, if the albumâs not ready for me to listen to yet, you guys just have to say so, Dre said.Â
No, it is, Paul assured him. I mean, you know Marshall, heâs always trying to polish and tweak little things, but we have a version thatâs more than ready for you. We wouldnât have you come from LA otherwiseâŠÂ
Iâll try an call him, you said.Â
You got up and went to your office. You were starting to be a little freaked out. You didnât want to be dramatic, but you were starting to feel scared that something terrible had happened. One time, he got into a car crash and was not even that late. Thirty minutes late for Marshall was basically four hours late for anyone else. You got out of the room and tried to call him, but he didnât pick up. Had he lost his phone ? You knew he hated the iPhone you had convinced him to buy - to replace his more than ancient Blackberry - and he used it as little as possible, but him losing anything was unlikely. And he knew about this meeting. You had specifically reminded him of it. He wouldnât show up late to a meeting with Dre. He had way too much respect for the man. You nervously checked his iCloud calendar, thinking that maybe he was confused about the time. Unlikely but not impossible either. You remembered adding the event « Meeting with Dre - ALBUM VERSION 1 » for this Monday, 9:00 AM a while ago. But it was nowhere to be found. Had it been accidentally deleted ? Had you dropped the ball ? No. Impossible. Not to toot your own horn, but you wouldnât screw up like that. It was probably a bug. You checked the weekâs other events. Deleted too. You knew he had other meetings and studio sessions planned, but they did not appear on the calendar. Weird. Especially since last weekâs event were still appearing, and the following weekâs too. It looked like someone had cleared this weekâs schedule and you knew it wasnât you. It had to be Marshall, then, since he was the only other person to have access to his calendar. You were worried. He would not clear a whole weekâs schedule, especially not when he was nearly done with his album. Something had to have happened. Something awful, by the looks of it. Your mind immediately went to his family. They were the only people he would clear his schedule for. You decided to call Hailie, hoping that nothing awful had happened to her or her sisters.Â
Hey Y/N, you heard her soft voice say as she picked up the phone. How are you ?Â
Hey Hailie, you said nervously. Are you alright ?Â
All good, she said. Why ? Are you ok ? Is there anything wrong ?Â
Um⊠I donât know, you said. I'm trying to reach your Dad. Have you heard of him ?Â
Not since Thursday, I think. He told me he was spending the weekend with you. Whatâs wrong ?Â
Heâs just a little late to a meeting, you said as you tried to sound casual. I was worried that something had happened to you, your sisters, NateâŠÂ
No, weâre all good, she said reassuringly. Look, Iâm in Chicago, but I can try and call himâŠÂ
Donât worry about it, you said. Enjoy Chicago.
Thank you ! See you !Â
Hailie didnât seem too worried, so there was at least that. However, you were a little bugged off. You absolutely had not spent the weekend with Marshall and, frankly, you were a bit shocked that he had lied to his daughter about it. Not that you never spent the weekend together - in the past six months, it had happened quite a bit - but he was not the type to lie to his daughter. It was odd that he would use you as a lie, especially since your relationship - if you could call it that - was still in the developing stage. As far as Hailie was concerned, you were the closest thing her Dad had to a girlfriend but, in actuality, it was a bit more complicated. It wasnât necessarily serious or committed, and there most certainly wasnât any label on it. You were his personal assistant, whom he occasionally fooled around with. The only reason Hailie saw you as his girlfriend was that she had walked in on the two of you making out with very, very few clothes on. Thank God, she was an adult and didnât really want to know anything about it. No one ever mentioned the incident but she assumed there was something between you and Marshall. And there was. In a way. But he wasnât really the kind of guy to put a label on it and you knew it. He was extremely guarded and, even though you knew you were one of the people closest to him, you didnât expect much. He was a really great boss, amazing man and more than satisfactory lover, but you knew him enough to know it would never evolve into anything serious. « I donât do relationships, you know » he had once told you. And you didnât mind. You enjoyed things just the way they were. The way you saw it, the sex you sometimes had - usually on work trips or late nights - was a perk to your job, along with the generous salary and health benefits. But regardless of all that, him lying about spending the weekend with you was extremely odd. You tried calling him again, but were sent straight to voicemail. You sheepishly went back to the conference room.Â
Did you talk to him ? Paul asked.Â
No news, you said. Thatâs odd. Iâll go to his place and if heâs not there, Iâll try the hospitals. Iâm sorry.Â
I hope heâs ok, Dre said. Keep us posted ?Â
Of course.Â
You made your way to your car and drove to his place. Security knew your car and plates and saw you often enough to let you through the gates. You parked in front of Marshallâs house and immediately noticed that the car he used the most was parked out front. He was home. Thank God, you didnât have to worry about a car crash. You rang the bell but no one came to open it. Maybe he had slipped in the shower and injured his head ? Or fallen down the stairs ? No. You often joked about him being older but he wasnât geriatric either. Still, you were worried so you used your spare key and let yourself in.Â
The house was unusually dark and messy. You checked downstairs, the living room, kitchen, office⊠It was messy, like someone had rummaged through things, but Marshall was nowhere to be found. You tried every room upstairs, every closet, every bedroom, but he wasnât there either. You decided to try the only remaining space you hadnât checked : the basement (you doubted he was in the garage - he liked his cars but not enough to cancel a meeting about music). Thatâs where you found him : in one of the dimly lit rooms he had converted into a home music studio, laying on the carpet, eyes closed, headphones on his head. You gasped and almost thought he was dead. You immediately rushed to his side and checked his breath. As soon as you approached, he slowly opened his eyes and groaned.Â
Marshall, are you alright ? You asked. Are you hurt ?Â
No, he said in a raspy voice before sitting up.Â
You examined his face : he looked like a zombie, or at least like someone who had forgotten what sleep and food were. And judging by the smell, he had also forgotten about showers. You usually enjoyed his masculine scent but now he was smelling as rank as a teenage boy addicted to video games.Â
What are you doing here ? He asked.Â
I came to check you werenât dead, you said. You missed the meeting with Dre. Paul is furious.Â
Wait⊠What day is it ? He asked in confusion.Â
Monday, you said. April 12th.Â
Fuck.Â
He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard, and you inspected him closer. His eyes were bloodshot, with huge dark circles. The beard he usually kept well-trimmed was all over the place, so was his short hair, and his breath smelled of energy drink. He had always had a penchant for soda and Redbull, but it usually wasnât to the point of smelling like a candy factory. Well, if you added the smell of sweat, it was more like someone who ran a marathon in the Redbull factory. Marshall looked at you without saying a word.Â
Are you alright ? You asked.Â
Does it look like Iâm alright ? He groaned.Â
Not really, you admitted - not really knowing what to say.Â
Why are you ask, then ?
If you hadnât been so worried, you would have snapped at him for behaving like an ass, but it wasnât him. You sighed and looked at the CDs heâd been listening to : « Searching for Jerry Garcia » and « I Miss the Hip Hop Shop » by Proof. Thatâs when it hit you : today was April 12th and April 11th was the anniversary of his best friendâs passing. The both of you were sitting on the carpet, not saying a word. He knew that you knew.Â
Do you⊠Um⊠Want to talk about it ? You asked tentatively.Â
I need a shower, he said.Â
Yes he did. He definitely did. You got up and waited for him to do the same but he simply groaned as he tried to move. You gave him your hand and helped him up as he let out a moan and held his back. You wondered how long heâd been laying there, listening to music and losing track of time. He seemed to have trouble even standing up. « God, he must be exhausted », you thought.Â
Need help ? You asked.Â
Y-Yeah, he said.Â
Shower ?Â
Yeah.Â
Without a word, you helped him to the nearest bathroom where he started undressing without even waiting for you to leave. You could feel your cheeks burn. Youâd seen him naked before, sure, but this different than the two of you shedding your clothes in a passionate moment. Now, you had the feeling of seeing something you werenât supposed to. It felt a bit weird. You watched him step in the shower and went upstairs, to his closet, to pick some clothes for him to wear. You grabbed boxers, some sweatpants, a wife beater and a hoodie and put them in the bathroom, near the sink before opening the windows to let in some light and fresh air, as you tidied up a bit. Youâd spent some time in his house before but you had never seen the place this messy.Â
Thanks for the clothes, Marshall said as he emerged from the bathroom.Â
Feeling better ? You asked.Â
Yeah.
When was the last time you showered ? You asked.Â
I donât know, he shrugged.Â
Last time you ate ?Â
FriâŠSat⊠I donât know, he replied.Â
He seemed gaunt and, even if the shower seemed to have done some good, Marshall seemed like a corpse. He was standing there, staring at you, not extremely responsive. You had never seen him like this and it was definitely a far cry from his usual self. Ever since you had met him for the first time, you had found him to have an impressive presence. Whenever he walked into a room, he naturally drew attention to him and he had such charisma that he seemed bigger than he actually was. But for the first time, he looked weak and lost.Â
Are you hungry ? You asked.Â
A bit, he replied.Â
Sit, you said. Iâll prepare something. What do you want ? Pasta ?Â
Whatever, he said.Â
He sat on the couch and you made your way to the kitchen. Being the one responsible for his shopping, you knew the pantry like the back of your hand and knew exactly what was in there. You decided to make some homemade spaghetti, using Momâs Spaghetti sauce with homemade garlic toasts. His lazy comfort food. When you brought his plate to the living room, he was manspreading, looking at the ceiling.Â
Thanks, he said as you handed him the food. Chips would have been enough, you know ?Â
You need to eat a real meal, you simply said.Â
He nodded and started to eat. You noticed he was avoiding your gaze. He usually didnât have much trouble maintaining eye contact, except for when he was ashamed, or sad, or tired. In this case, you knew it was probably a mixture of everything. There was no doubt as to his exhaustion and sadness, and you knew he would feel ashamed for missing an important work meeting. You looked at him and left the room to go and call Paul.Â
So ? He asked. How is he ?Â
Heâs⊠sick, you lied, knowing full well Marshall wouldnât want you telling people how you had found him.Â
Sick ? The managed asked. What does he have ?Â
The flu, you said. Itâs pretty nasty. I cleared up his schedule for the week. He needs rest. Heâs really sorry about the meeting.Â
Alright. Iâll call him later, he said. Dre has to leave today, weâll have to set up another meeting.Â
Iâll let him know.Â
You also texted Hailie to let her know you had managed to get ahold of her Dad. When you got back to Marshall, he was looking at a picture frame of him and Proof. From the looks of it, you guessed it was from 2005-2006. You sat next to him in silence.Â
The flu ? He asked in a raspy voice.Â
Couldnât come up with anything better on the spot, you said. At least, it buys you the rest of the week so you can rest.Â
No need, he said. I can⊠I can work.Â
Bullshit, you sighed.Â
He stared in your eyes for the first time all day and sighed. His eyes went back to the picture frame and you could see hum swallow dryly.Â
Went was this taken ? You asked.Â
March 2006, he said in a breaking voice. Itâs the last picture of him I haveâŠÂ
His breath was shaky and you could tell he was on the verge if tears. You placed a hand over his and gently stroked his skin.Â
Itâs ok to cry, you know ? You said softly.Â
You werenât too sure why you said that. Of course it was ok to cry. A man in his fifties, especially your boss, did not need your permission to cry. Or so you thought. Because as soon as the words left your lips, the tears started to flow and he started sobbing. You put a hand on his back and tried to soothe him while you saw his face redden and scrunch up, his tears wetting his face. It was painful seeing him like this and you wished there was something you could do. If that were possible, you would gladly take his pain and make it yours.Â
Fu-fuck, I-Iâm sorry, he said after a while.Â
You have nothing to apologize for, you said gently. Itâs ok. He was your best friend. Itâs ok to be sad.Â
I-I fucked upâŠ
Itâs just a work meeting, you reminded him. Weâll set up another meeting with Dre, Iâll move a couple of appointments, itâs fine.Â
No, not⊠I-IâŠ
He was trying to speak but he wasnât making much sense. He was stuttering, his voice cracking, changing pitch⊠You put your arms around him, half-expecting him to push you away but he didnât. You kept running a hand up and down his back to soothe him a bit and it seemed effective.Â
Thank you, Y/N, he said.Â
Were you like this all weekend ? You asked.Â
YeahâŠÂ
Is that why you told Hailie I was spending the weekend with you ?Â
I⊠Yeah, he said sheepishly. I didnât want the kids to see me like this.Â
I see, you said. So⊠what ? You listened to his music, looked at pictures and lost track of time ?Â
I guess, he shrugged. I⊠I tried to go to his grave yesterday but it was packed.Â
I guess a lot of people miss him, you said.Â
No, it was⊠I saw them and they were wearing⊠My tee-shirts. My merch. They were my fans. On his grave. And it drove me fucking mad. Because I couldnât even get out of my car, and I had to see these people pay respect but they were fans. They didnât know him. And I saw the posts on social media. And people keep on making it about me.Â
His voice broke again. You had often had conversations with him about fame and how he was dealing with it. Most of the time, he was grateful for it, though he often gave the impression that he didnât really get why he was famous and how people could look up to him so much. « Itâs just me », he often said. Deep down, he only saw himself as a guy trying to make it in hip-hop, trying to be the best emcee. Fame was never really part of his plan, though he was grateful for the success and love of people granted him. But the way he was speaking, it seemed like less of a blessing and more of a curse. He explained to you that he felt guilty for people making Proofâs death about him. Sure, he was his best friend, but he was so much more, and he just wished people would respect his legacy and everything he meant to the hip-hop culture. He also felt guilty when he thought about Proofâs family, who didnât only have to deal with a tragic loss but also his own fame, and always being asked questions about him.Â
His wife⊠She always hated me, you know ? He said. She hated all of us. Proof was never home, always either getting in trouble with us or trying to keep us out of it. Now we donât speak too much and⊠I mean, I get it, I was his friend, not hers, but⊠I donât know. I was supposed to be an uncle to his kids, you know ? Iâm supposed to be there for them, not make things difficult. Iâm supposed to be the one sending flowers, not receiving them in their place.Â
Do you keep in touch ? You asked.Â
I try, he said. I mean, if the kids need something, they know they can call. Sharonda too. She never would, sheâs too proud but⊠Yeah, I just wish I could do more, you know ?Â
I know, you said. You shouldnât feel guiltyâŠÂ
No, I should, he shrugged. When he died, I was a massive asshole about it⊠I mean, I guess I made it a lot about me. But now it makes me so mad. And sad. And I miss him so much and I just wish I could apologize to him.Â
For what ? You asked as you stroked his hand.Â
Everything, he shrugged. For being ungrateful and not seeing everything he did to hold down the fort. Proof⊠He was strong when I was weak. And I never got to tell him how thankful I am. If it werenât for him, Iâd still be making burgers.Â
Iâm sure he knew how much you loved him, you said softly.Â
I hope, he said. He was everything to me⊠Like⊠We didnât love each other like that, you know. Like, no homo or whatever. But sometimes I think he was the love of my life. In a platonic way. Like, he was my other half, the one who made me a better person. And now that heâs gone⊠Iâm just me. And itâs hard.Â
Youâre still pretty great, you said. And I know he would be proud of you.Â
I⊠I donât know, he said.Â
He seemed lost in his thoughts. You realized you had been stroking his back the whole time and stopped. He turned to you with his eyebrows furrowed and he didnât even have to ask for you to resume. It was the first time the two of you had such a prolonged physical contact without it being sexual and you wondered if he noticed, too. He closed his eyes and you looked at him some more. He was clearly exhausted and you werenât too sure how long he would need to sleep. Probably a long time.Â
You should go to bed, you said softly.Â
I guess, he shrugged.Â
You need rest, you insisted. Iâll do the dishes and go home, ok ? You can call me if you need anything.Â
Can you stay ? He asked nervously. I⊠I donât feel like being⊠alone.Â
Sure, you said with a hint of surprise.Â
Ok.Â
He got up and headed upstairs. When he noticed you werenât following him, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow.Â
You donât want to come ?Â
Upstairs ? You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. To your⊠room ?Â
You said I needed to sleep, he pointed out. Iâm not sleeping on the damn couch.Â
You shrugged and followed him. That was new. You had slept over a couple of times, but never in the same bed as him. The only circumstances in which you had seen his bedroom were strictly sexual. But as soon as the deed was done, he wouldnât sleep in the same bed as you. And even when you had slept with him during work trips, youâd been back to your own room after. It was one of the many ways in which he could be guarded and you knew it had nothing to do with you. He just had his quirky, peculiar ways. He got in bed and looked at you intently.Â
Come, he said.Â
Ok, you said as you sat next to him.Â
Remove your socks, he instructed.Â
Iâm not removing my socks, you said. My feet are cold.Â
Youâre not getting in my bed with your dirty socks, he pointed out.Â
I just put them on this morning, you said. Theyâre not dirty.Â
Itâs a pet peeve, he said. Just⊠Socks off, ok ? And get under the covers.Â
You scoffed. If he was in a good enough state to be oddly specific - as he often was about practically everything in his life - it was a good sign. You took your socks off and sat in bed, under the covers. It felt weird but Marshall didnât seem to pick on it. He simply laid there and stared at you.Â
Youâre not laying down ? He finally asked.Â
Um⊠Sitting is fine, you said.Â
Can you lie down, please ? He asked.Â
You looked at him with a raised eyebrow but still did as you were told. As soon as you laid down next to him, he closed his eyes. Given how exhausted he looked, you half-expected him to fall asleep right then and there but he didnât. Instead, he kept on tossing and turning.Â
Whatâs up ? You asked. Do you need anything ?Â
I think itâs the Redbull, he said. I havenât drank much else in days. Itâs keeping me awake.Â
Oh, you said. Letâs talk, then.Â
About what ? He asked.Â
I donât know, you shrugged. We can talk about anything. Whatâs up with the cleared schedule on iCloud ? Did you do that ?Â
Yeah⊠I donât know, he said sheepishly. I⊠I went to the cemetery yesterday and when I couldnât go and had to go home, I guess I lost it. There were these thoughts in my head and⊠Iâm not sure I can do it anymore. Without Proof itâs⊠too hard.Â
Tears were welling in his eyes again. It had been more than fifteen years since Proofâs passing and Marshall had put out quite a few albums in that time, but the wound still seemed fresh. It wasnât a matter of his technical ability to do it without Proof - of course he could - it was about whether or not he wanted to.Â
Ok, you said.Â
Ok ? He asked.Â
What do you want me to say ? You asked. Do you want me to plead for you to keep going ? Iâm not going to. If you want to quit and retire, thatâs ok, youâre allowed.Â
Really ?Â
I mean⊠Yeah, you said simply. Itâs your decision. If you think you donât have anything else to bring to the table, thatâs fine. Youâve had a good run and a career people can only dream of having. If you decide to put an end to it, thatâs fine.Â
Wait⊠No, he said. I mean, your job is to talk me out of it. Is that some reverse psychology thing ?Â
Itâs Paulâs job to talk you out of it, you clarified. Me, Iâm just a personal assistant. My job is to manage your schedule and make life easier for you. Whether or not you put out music, my jobâs fine as long as you need me to do your shopping, come to football games with you and remind you of your dentistâs appointments. Next one is in two months by the way.Â
He chuckled and you couldnât help but smile. His face was still puffy and he still didnât look his best, but hearing him laugh - however lightly - was good. He was a great person and you hated seeing him like this. Of all the people you had ever met, he was the one who had suffered the most, and deserved it the least. He was a good, hardworking, honest and generous man, on top of being one of the most talented people ever. His sadness was breaking your heart. If his career was making him sad, if keeping on going without Proof was too hard, he should be allowed to quit. He had earned it and, in your opinion, he didnât have anything left to prove to anyone.Â
So you donât care whether I end my career or not ? He asked with an amused look.Â
As a fan, I think it would be tragic, you said. Especially If you donât put out that last album. Itâs your best work so far. But as a person⊠What I care about is you, Marshall. Iâm in the front row, seeing how hard you work every day. If you say thatâs too hard, then thatâs too hard and I trust you on that. If you think youâll be happier doing something else, just enjoying life with your family and focusing on your charity, you should do that.Â
Proof would kick my ass for thinking of quitting, he said pensively.Â
I think Proof would want you to be happy, you pointed out.Â
He hummed and looked at you. He brought a hand to your face and stroked your face as a single tear rolled on his cheek. You smiled and wiped the tear, letting your hand cup his face. You stared at each other in silence. It was unusual but, oddly enough, not uncomfortable.Â
Thank you for staying, Y/N, he simply said before letting out a small yawn.Â
You should really try and get some sleep, you replied softly.Â
He nodded and closed his eyes as you heard him take deep breaths. A couple of minutes later, he was asleep. You could hear him snore lightly. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was only 1PM. You figured youâd stay there for a while and let him sleep while you answered a couple of e-mails. After a couple of hours, Marshall was still sleeping soundly. You thought you might as well do some tidying up in the house, but as soon as you tried to move, you felt his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You smiled to yourself as you realized it was the first time you actually cuddled with him - and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. Your back was against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. This and the sensation of his arm around you were incredibly soothing and you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute.
(âŠ)
Marshall groaned as you gently shook his shoulder to try and wake him up. He scrunched up his nose and let out a few obscenities. He looked pissed off as he opened his eyes.Â
What time is it ? He groaned.Â
About 7PM, you said.Â
You better have a good reason to wake me up, he sighed.Â
I think I do. You have clothes on your bed and ten minutes to get changed, ok ?Â
Iâm not getting dressed, and Iâm not going out, he said with an eye roll.Â
And Iâm not giving you a choice, you said with a smile. Get up. Please. You wonât regret it.Â
You made your way downstairs and prepared a bottle of water and a snack for Marshall as you waited for him. When he arrived, he looked a bit puzzled. He was still clearly tired but he looked a lot better. You made him get in your car and drove to the cemetery. You had called ahead of time and asked if they would do you a favor and keep the place open for a couple more hours. You used the « Marshall Mathers » card, which always worked when it came to getting a table at a fancy restaurant, borrowing a private jet or keeping a store open when Marshall needed to shop for his daughtersâ birthday.Â
What are we doing here ? He asked as you parked out front.
You know what weâre doing here, you said. Itâs after hours and you get to pay your respects in peace.Â
You⊠You arranged for this ?
I did, you said. Theyâll be open until 8:30PM. Iâm sorry, I didnât find a florist open, though.Â
He looked at you in shock and immediately engulfed you in a hug before whispering a « thank you » in your ear before getting out of the car. An hour later, you were leaning on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette when Marshall came back. He seemed more at peace. You could tell he had cried - as people often do when theyâre visiting someoneâs grave - but he seemed alright nonetheless. He walked up to you and took you by surprise by kissing you. Contrary to all the kisses youâd shared until now, this one wasnât greedy, hungry or passionate. It was tender and soft. Intimate and emotional.Â
A-Are you alright ? You asked.Â
Yeah, he hummed. Thank you for taking me.Â
Youâre welcome, you said with a smile.Â
Ready to go ? He asked.Â
Almost, you said as you pointed to your cigarette - knowing full well the hatred he had of your smoking habit.Â
The drive home was a bit weird. You had kissed before but this felt different. You had always enjoyed his kisses but this one was, by far, your favorite. You felt a little guilty for enjoying it so much. If you were honest with yourself, it was a little scary, too. The only reason you had managed not to catch feelings for Marshall was because he was usually guarded and there were a lot of boundaries. But after today, after seeing him this open and vulnerable, you werenât too sure you could go back to having casual sex with him. It would be too dangerous.Â
Did you know Proofâs family would be there ? He asked as you parked in front of his place.Â
Were they ? You asked in surprise. No, I didnât.Â
The cemetery must have called them, then, he shrugged.Â
Iâm sorry, you said. I insisted that you have your privacyâŠÂ
Itâs fine, he said. I talked to Sharonda. Nasaan was here too.Â
How did it go ?Â
Pretty well, he said. Iâm seeing them later this week. Over dinner.Â
Thatâs great, you replied with a smile. Iâm happy for you.Â
Thank you Y/N, he said emotionally. For everything you always do for me. I mean, I wouldnât be able to get through life without you. You put up with me, you make life bearable⊠And⊠Thank you for today, especially.Â
Youâre welcome, you said with a small smile.Â
He cupped your face and kissed you again. You leaned into the kiss more than you should. A part of you knew that you should push him away⊠But you couldnât bring yourself to do it. Not after he had such a hard day. So you kissed him back and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue caressing yours, of his fingers in your hair.Â
Now, you should go and get some rest, you said softly.Â
Are you coming ? He asked as he stroked your cheek.Â
Do you need me ?Â
Y/N⊠I always need you.Â
And just like that⊠You knew you were screwed. You felt an army of butterflies in your stomach and your brain was nowhere to be found. It had left the chat as soon as you heard Marshallâs soft voice say he needed you. You were unable to think so your emotions took over as you exited the car and got inside the house, his hand in yours.Â
i know i wasnt tagged but i wanted to play đđ




i know the first ones a fancast and the last one is a real person but i love all of them the same soooooo đ€·ââïžđ€·ââïžđ€·ââïžđ€·ââïžđ€·ââïž
i tried to add more funny pictures than anything
MY MAN!
I was tagged by @red-orchid and @justreblogginfics to give four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !!
(That is not the only thing they have me yelling)
I'm sure this won't be at all be surprising to you.




No pressure tags for @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @itspdameronthings @stealfromthedevil @navybrat817 @maggiemayhemnj @ramadiiiisme @middleearthpixie @sotwk and absolutely anyone else who wants to play and proudly show off their MEN đ
SO EXCITED FOR EMS NEW ALBUM TOMMOROW, GONNA BE SPENDING SO MUCH MONEY ON IT!!!

Em's new album is so amazing!!
I just have no words...
The songs take me back to my childhood listening to eminem in my room.
It was kinda funny the amount of mentions of gen-z in the songs and listening to them as a gen-z myself.
Obviously I loved houdini when it came out, I did cry when I listened to that one đ
Temporary is so sweet I wanted to cry so bad đđđđđ
I like how not all of the songs are his typical style, they aren't as much like a rap song.
I hear alot of the old references and tunes in the backgrounds and I love it!
I also know it's supposed to be a conceptual album, and he said it might not make sense if you don't listen to the songs in order but honestly I don't see how they connect as much but honestly what do I know about music.
I did pre order one of the digital albums, the art that came with it was AMAZING.
Then this morning I bought a CD for my car, I already have curtain call in my collection. I'm going to try and buy more of his CDs. I also bought a T-shirt, because I was like I need it. It's the white one with em and the chainsaw. I honestly loved that Era.
Loved the guess who's back skit đđ
And oh God somebody save me is making me want to cry again... love jelly roll's part in it. It's amazing.
I listened to the album as I wrote all this. I loved the album so much!!
So um apparently I've been living under a rock for the past couple weeks. One I didn't know the music video for temporary was out and two EMINEM IS GONNA BE A FREAKING GRANDPA. The music video made me cry, especially when em started crying, the card was everything. I loved the videos oh my goodness the girls were so cute when they were younger. And yall I cant describe to you how much this has affected me. This man means the world to me. He's been sober for almost as long as I've known and been listening to him. His music makes me super happy and sappy. Y'know he's older than my dad by like 1 or 2 years but he's still fine as wine. I know I know crazy eminem fan alert but how can I not. But back to the other stuff, I've been listening to eminem honestly since I had been born, my mom loved him and my sister loved him. I've loved him practically ever since honestly. But I only ever started appreciating him until this last year or so. I mean there's times we're I'm not in the mood and I've got a certain music taste I want to listen to. I've got a lot of styles all right? But I'll always come back to marshall. Because he's the one thing that's never let me down. And I'm so happy to see him having the best life he can because he's long past over due for a happy life. He deserves it so much. Now all there's left for me to do is to see him live in concert and then honestly I can die happy. But in truth I'll probably never live to see that dream come true. All that matters is that Em is happy and living the life he deserves especially as a new grandpa.

Epic Song By EM Don't Let Them Say You Ain't Beautiful They Can All Get Fu**ed Just Stay True To YOU #Eminem #Slim_Shady #Marshall_Mathers #Beautiful
Some Fool : Insults Eminem's daughters.
Eminem :


1/12 The Slim Shady LP . . .
Im doin a little project where I make human (?) version of Eminem albums ! Very inspired by @/spongyleader and their Tyler, The Creator content. I plan to maybe make an ask blog w them along with animated skits.
TAGS: !
![Older Eminem Doodles :]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ec77fa1e69b100e9de22214d2dabec55/3e1c3504f9639a85-61/s500x750/d47e927d888bc1df8b0319a933321e823c0959e2.png)
![Older Eminem Doodles :]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7a8e1cb609dd38df609d6bb7669d696a/3e1c3504f9639a85-36/s500x750/ab59cc6cb9f80eed3a18a4bb4d324e0cc2b896e8.png)
![Older Eminem Doodles :]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/13cbc5a4956cc41250e1af2ea63679f8/3e1c3504f9639a85-aa/s500x750/35b938fb5de22532d5bc66d0090f619bc9cc5177.png)
![Older Eminem Doodles :]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/602908326f3c8e063537468b8130bc1e/3e1c3504f9639a85-8c/s500x750/7e02b88076096333675285293392781833eb72b5.jpg)
![Older Eminem Doodles :]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9936747edae0fb67e26490ff2601fcbf/3e1c3504f9639a85-28/s500x750/78492b5e258a90dc9a14361f383ee8769078c6f7.jpg)
Older Eminem doodles :]
TAGS: !

...coup de grĂące WIP: i plan to have this done sometime this week!
TAGS: !