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calummss · 28 days
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sorry for my lack of posting. my mental health isn’t great at this time and have no interest or intention of writing in the coming weeks
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calummss · 1 month
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Not Friends with the Monster | Marshall Mathers
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summary: marshall’s daughter has a nightmare
words: 500
a/n: it’s 2009 in this imagine; his daughter is roughly 4 in this
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It was night time in Detroit. Marshall and you were fast asleep, the activities of the day before draining you. It was the middle of the night when Romy, your daughter, had woken from a nightmare, sitting disoriented in her bed as she contemplated whether or not to get up from bed and take the chance that the monster under her bed could tackle her. Marshall was no stranger to sleepless nights, many thoughts racing through his head as it took time for his body to adjust to his natural rhythm. These past particular nights however it was like Marshall had taken a trip to dreamland. He was sleeping better and finally feeling energised after waking up. However in what seemed the middle of the night, Marshall woke up to soft cries of Romy. Standing in front of his side of the bed, his daughter silently sobbed as she watched her father’s eyes open with a sparkle of the moon. Feeling the tiredness drain from him as soon as he saw Romy’s tears, Marshall sat up, pulling her towards his chest.
‘What’s wrong baby?’ Marshall shushed her, rocking her up and down, trying to get his baby to stop spilling tears. ‘What happened?’
It felt like his heart was a knot as he watched his baby girl cry, not knowing what had happened.
Marshall quietly left the room not wanting to wake you up and walked downstairs towards the kitchen where he turned on the stove lights, continuing to rub her back as her small rapid breaths with the sound of her sniffling slowly started to decrease, finding safety in the arms of her father. The rustling of the trees outside grew louder, the whistling of the wind grabbing her attention. ‘It’s just the wind, baby. I promise there’s nothin’ outside to be scared of.’
Romy looked at Marshall and started wiping her own tears, using the ends of her sleeves.
‘There’s a monster under my bed.’
‘A monster?’
Romy nodded, her teary eyes making his heart ache. ‘What’s the monster doin’ under your bed?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
She shook her head.
‘Maybe the monster was afraid of you and hid under your bed.’ Marshall said, earning a small smile from his baby. ‘Or maybe it didn’t wanna be alone no more. Maybe the monster had a mama but he’s all alone right now.’
‘The monster has no mommy?’ She sounded heartbroken, the fact that she could’ve upset the monster.
‘Maybe.’ Marshall opened the cupboard and grabbed a glass, filling it with water as he placed it at Romy’s lip. ‘Drink a little water, baby. Your cryin’ probably dehydrated you.’
Romy took huge gulps as Marshall held the glass before placing it by the sink as she was done.
‘You’re ready to go back to bed?’ He patted her hair down, unable to resist her cuteness.
She shook her head.
‘You wanna sleep with daddy and mommy tonight?’
She nodded.
‘C’mon little lady,’ Marshall headed towards your bedroom. ‘Let’s go back to sleep.’
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calummss · 2 months
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kind of want to write a sapphic ada imagine
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calummss · 2 months
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hi, wanted to tell you that you inspire me a lot that i want to write a long one-shot for eminem but in relapse because i love horrorcore stories. i hope you feel alright because i saw your last post. take care of yourself !
just saw this. thank you so so much your words are too sweet. if you ever write that story and you’re open to it i would love to read it <3 take care pf yourself too :)
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calummss · 2 months
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anyone interested in a sheldon cooper smut unlike anything that i can find online?
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calummss · 2 months
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calummss · 2 months
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calummss · 2 months
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thank you for the tag lee🫶🏻
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tags (no pressure) @amournoir @tommyhardyx @theshelbyclan @tommydoesntpayforsuits @frost-queen @smallheathgangsters
Thank you so much @julyzaa for tagging me🤍
Rules: Go to pinterest and search: "celebrity", "outfit", "quote", "aesthetic". post with the FIRST picture in each category that appears that fits your vibe.
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No pressure tags: @zablife @call-sign-shark @runnning-outof-time @raincoffeeandfandoms @red-riding-wood @rysko @emotionalcadaver @cillmequick @moral-terpitude
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calummss · 2 months
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requested by the lovely @zablife . thank you for being so patient i feel awful but i hope you enjoy
prompt this was always how it was going to end
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‘What is wrong with you?’
‘What’s wrong with me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?’
‘With me?’ You stopped strutting, stepping towards his face. ‘Me? Are you fucking insane?’
John reached out for your arm, his tight grip making it impossible to walk off, leaving you in his embrace that no longer gave you the same warmth it used to. It was cold and wet, cold and dark. All you wanted was to go home, eat the food your nan had made you and sip a cup of tea by the fireplace as she talked about her golden age. John had apprehended you as you sat inside of the Garrison, patiently waiting for Pete to show up but as the clicking of the clock continued to burn into your head, you had given up and pitifully ordered four shots, all burning the back of your throat and you wiped your lips with saddened eyes.
‘Don’t touch me,’ you tried to pull back, your heels almost making you trip every time you tried to get away from him but he was also the one that saved you from the dirty streets of Small Heath. John had loosened his grip, enough to get rid of the burning sensation on the skin of your arm. His eyes were dark, no joy, no tears, no pain; just soulless.
‘You are mine.’ He growled at you not caring for the people that eyes the scene in front of them.
‘You don’t own me!’
‘You’re mine. Stop going on these stupid dates. Do they know you’re married? That they’re committing adulterous acts against me?’
‘We divorced, John!’
‘There’s no such thing as a divorce, sweetheart,’ he inched his face closer to yours, his hot breath clashing against the cold air. ‘Til death do us part.’
Your eyebrows softened with the released tension of your forehead. Who was he? What happened to John?
‘Pete won’t come.’
‘Why?’ You asked. Each second letting his words settle, his grip on your arm slowly fading as you tilted your head to look at him. Legs barely supporting your weight. ‘What the fuck did you do John? What did you do? Where is he?’
‘Receiving the punishment any man should.’
‘What the fuck did you do?’
‘I shot him in the head and watched all of his blood spill next to him as I watched life leave his eyes, his breathing stop, as he looked at me and realised that the last thing he would see was me.’
You stared at John processing what he said. Going over every word he had just uttered, not realising that your shaking hand had made its way to your lips, anxiously pulling the skin. And then it dawned on you… ‘Freddie, Roy, Kennedy, Albert…they never showed up, they…never returned any of my calls…John, what did you do?…Oh no no no,’ your tears silently fell.
‘Do you think I share what is mine?’
Sobs
‘If you think it was ever going to end any other way you are a stupid girl. This is how it was always going to end. You can run as far away as you want. Date who you want. Kiss who you want. But I will always find you. And I will take back what is mine. Always’
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calummss · 2 months
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I THINK I JUST GOT OUT OF MY WRITERS BLOCK??? omg??
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calummss · 2 months
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i feel awful for not having finished any requests. stories im uploading rn have been sitting in my drafts for months. mentally im not doing to well so my writers block is real. i apologise to all :/
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calummss · 2 months
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Uptown Girl | Klaus Mikaelson
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summary: as london’s most known girl, you are used to lingering eyes. but one night a man’s eyes won’t leave and his obnoxious sense of self gets under your skin—bad and good
pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson
words: 2.3k
a/n: probably one of the best writing i have completed this year…
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‘Ladies and Gentlemen, look who my eyes just spied.’ The singer announced, her glistening eyes under the spotlight finding you as soon as you entered the Eden Club, guests turning their heads to see you beam from above the dancefloor. ‘Miss Renée, save me a dance.’
‘I always do, Etta.’ You gave her a grin, taking the stairs to the dance level, greeting people as you made your way towards the bar. Men reaching out to engulf your gloved hands, women’s arms trying to claw you to themselves as your presence was greatly felt whenever you entered any club.
Being around you was enough for most people. Everyone in London knew your name and your favourite drink you would order whenever you were spotted at a party. Every individual trying to win the favour of the city's most popular uptown girl. Many greetings came your way. Men, women, old and young, each ‘Hello’ and ‘Honour to meet you’ as sweet as the ones before.
Finishing your greetings for the greater part of the evening you headed towards the bar, your dear friend Hattie already sipping her second Gin Rickey, waiting for you to finally spend the night together.
‘Hattie!’ You called out, raising your arms with a cheerful smile as Hattie turned around, her frowny look disappearing as soon as she set eyes on you. Standing up from her seat to hug you, you briefly saw a man’s eyes on you, awkwardly closing yours as you swayed back and forth with Hattie in your arms.
When you let go of her, you occupied the stool next to her. Ready to order your favourite drink to get the party started, ready to dance the night away.
‘You were bought a drink, Miss Renée.’ Charlie the bartender slid over a sidecar, your favourite.
‘By whom?’
‘Niklaus Mikaelson.’ He replied, gathering dirty glasses and polishing them off to reuse them throughout the night. ‘Like you, he’s made quite the name for himself in the city. And from what I can tell he’s been eyeing you ever since you stepped foot into this club and he is handsome. He’s in booth five.’
‘Oh stop drooling would you!’ You playfully hit his upper shoulder.
You slowly turned your head over your shoulder, feeling his gaze from the booth Charlie said he was. Your eyes met his as you took in his features: dirty blonde hair brushed back; nice eyes, their colour tucked away by the dim club lighting; but his lips looked soft as butter, his smirk making you feel like you had one too many drinks. Niklaus Mikaelson lifted his champagne glass with a smirk, cheersing you through the air as his eyes seemed to have already undressed you. You grabbed the drink and cheered him back, letting the cold alcohol burn the back of your throat as your eyes trailed along his body, curious to see what he hid underneath the nice suit; perfectly cut, shoulder pads sharp enough to let the confidence smoothly drip off of him.
Your eyes saw that he was very much handsome; but your eyes saw the trouble that came with him. Why else would he look at you like he could have you with the snap of his finger? Much of arrogance. You grabbed the glass Charlie had slid over, barely lifting it into the air, a subtle nod letting him know that you appreciated the gift in the form of a drink, your parchiness coating your tongue.
‘Let us dance!’ Hattie hurryingly gulped the last of her drink, fetching your hand to pull you out of the stool, your drink staying behind.
The dance floor was crowded. Suits and dresses, glitter and shimmer, dancers and stiff competition. Smiles across the room as you and Hattie started dancing, making your way to the heart of the room, arms swaying, legs carrying you like feathers. The music pulsated through your veins. Etta’s smooth yet powerful voice making people forget their hardships in life, only the feeling of alcohol, smoke and a good dance on their minds. Ready to embrace the undoubtedly painful throbbing the next day. The sound of music was great but an awful sound from up the booths caused a nagging noise that made enjoying Etta’s tune hardly amusing.
Looking back you saw the man that bought you your drink engaged in fits of laughter and deafening talk with another man and woman. Both cooped up on one side of the booth, his arm lazily drooped over her back, their combined musing striking one too many nerves.
‘I’ll be right back, Hattie.’ You leaned in to convey her your message, Hattie not paying attention to you in the slightest. The waves of music controlled her.
Walking up the very stairs that were supposed to not be climbed until the very next morning, you found yourself hitting the wooden staircase harder than the step before. And before you could count to five you had already reached the table that seemed to have a rather good time ruining other people’s night.
‘Hello, sweetheart.’ Mr. Mikaelson greeted slyly, his eyes full of the pride he had shown off for the most part since you had arrived.
The other man and woman finally stopped gushing at each other, their eyes falling to you and Mr. Mikaelson, amused by the scene that took place in front of them.
‘Keep the noise to a minimum.’
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are we too loud?’
‘Yes.’ You cocked your head, jestfully grinning at him as his smirk only seemed to grow. ‘Keep it down.’
‘Or what?’ The other man leaned forward, smooth American accent, his eyes carrying an empty soul that had long lost his sense of self. His date’s eyes smiling back at you. The same kind of satisfaction that Mr. Mikaelson carried himself.
You stared back at him, knowing that he was far gone unlike his friends. His demeanour telling as to how far he would go if this quarrel were to grow past unpleasant exchanges, demanding to be settled by rowdy fumes and accentuating the converse. ‘Back off, vampire.’
Several eyebrows raised, looks of surprise exchanged at the table as their smirks continued to be planted on their faces, only disappearing when their raised glasses were brought to their lips.
‘So you know about vampires then?’ Mr. Mikaelson said, only now noticing that their glasses were filled with bright red fluids and you knew for sure that those weren’t Bloody Marys. Well maybe that blood belonged to a Mary, so bloody Mary would be accurate and—moving on.
‘I’m not a half-wit, Mr. Mikaelson.’ You crossed your arms in front of your chest, rubbing your lips together, the soft feeling of your red lipstick providing you with a quick composition, shortly to which you lost all of it as soon as your lips parted. ‘-And if you are surprised that people know of vampires, may I suggest not to drink your conspicuous dinner at a club full of humans? It only takes one drunken fool to accuse you and is persuaded by his intoxicated head to start making a scene so I suggest you order a bottle of whiskey and gin, lower your level of conversation or join everyone on the dancefloor. You especially,’ you glanced at Mr. Mikaelson, ‘need to loosen up. Good evening.’ And with the turn of your heels you let your annoyance at the booth and rejoined the fun with Hattie as she immediately grabbed hold of you as soon as you appeared back under the lights.
You turned into Hattie’s arms, shortly being spun out as you fell into the arms of George Hannigan. Works at an industry just outside of the club. Comes here every Friday to forget the life he was living. George was one of the few men inside the establishment that truly knew what it meant to get loose and dance the night away. Your footsteps captivated people around you, letting the stage light shine above you as adrenaline pumped through your veins. Turning into George’s arms, he let you spin out again so that you were to rejoin Hattie, yet the frame you met was much more stiff than Hattie’s body. A suit instead of a dress, and a smirk instead of coral painted lips. The song changed to a slower tempo, the song calling for intimacy, something that couldn’t have been timed worse.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Loosening up, darling. Now…threatening a vampire,’ he said as you placed your hand on his chest, rolling your eyes. Hoping that no one could see just how off putting the dance made you feel. ‘Not your smartest move. Pun intended.’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Yes,’ Mr. Mikaelson said, letting his body move to the sound of music, so gently it felt like you were floating.
‘Then you will know that everyone in this club knows me and would gladly help me get rid of you.‘
‘Do you like all the attention you get?’
‘I suppose I do.’
‘Suppose?’
‘I never really had a choice,’ your lips rubbed against each other, you patience starting to crumble the more you appreciated his dancing. ‘Just like I hadn’t consented to this pervasive dancing with you.’ You tried to free yourself from him but with the pull of your hand you were right back where you were seconds ago.
‘You know,’ the air of his whisper sent a chill down your spine, hoping that he wasn’t able to tell that you tried not to heat up. ‘I could easily compel you to take a knife and stab yourself. The more snarky remarks you let out the more my patience for kindness starts to burn out.’
‘Nice try,’ you gave him a grin. ‘Compulsion won’t work I fear. However I would much rather take the knife and plunge it into your chest cavity…You won’t die but just seeing the blood seep through your shirt will be enough to satisfy me.’
‘What do you mean compulsion doesn’t work? You are human.’
‘Call it a lucky gene.’ You smiled up at him, still swaying across the dancefloor as Etta hinted no reason to change up the tune anytime soon.
‘Well isn’t it just my lucky day that London’s most beautiful woman can literally resist my charm,’
‘Luckily I can see that your conceitedness is encased with the charm you so claim to possess, when the only thing that my eyes are able to pick up is a man with bad manners, who should’ve paid more attention to his parents growing up (ouch). Now if you will excuse me once again, nicely this time; please keep the disturbance to a minimum that we can all enjoy tonight.’
Escaping to the bar you hoped that you were going to get rid of him at last yet a familiar scent on your trail did not sway from your nose. The smell following you until you sat back down at Charlie’s bar stool, Charlie’s eyes somewhat telling you what you already knew.
‘At least let me buy you a drink?’ He talked to your back, his tone very clear that he liked whatever he was doing.
‘You already did.’ You held up the drink Charlie had kept behind the bar until you returned, the ice not so cold anymore but the alcohol doing exactly what you needed it to do.
‘That was a mysterious buyer. Now you know me. Let me redo the favour.’
‘Fine,’ you sighed. ‘If I let you buy me this drink will you stop nagging me?’
‘I buy you a drink and we will converse until you have finished.’
‘I’ll just gulp it down then.’
‘Not allowed.’
‘Fine.’ Rolling your eyes you turned to Charlie. ‘Charlie, a sidecar on Mr. Mikaelson’s tab please.’
Charlie set down the drink with an amused smile, enjoying the sight of you and Mr. Mikaelson too much. ‘Clock’s ticking.’ You took a sip, thankful that your drink was cold again.
‘Tell me about yourself.’
You choked on your drink, suppressing a laugh. ‘What?’ He cannot be serious.
‘Why not?’ He ogled you. ‘Don’t tell me the popular girl finds it hard to talk about herself.’
‘I don’t find it hard.’
‘Then tell me.’
So you did. You told him your name, your age, what food you liked and which you detested. What you like to do in your free time and if you could live forever would you. You told him that his intimidating nature wouldn’t scare you—Miss Renée and her list of things she’s afraid of is nonexistent.
You started to not mind his company too much. When he wasn’t being annoying he was listening to what you said and his jestful answers made it difficult not to crack a smile. Mr. Mikaelson talked about himself and what he was in London for. He was about to open his mouth when something loud interrupted him. The sound of bullets filled the club; screams and people running made your heart beat faster. Another round of bullets were fired at the bar and with teary eyes, Klaus Mikaelson used his vampire speed to bring you behind the bar. Hoping that you were safe from the bullets.
‘What’s happening?’ Your voice shook as you barely managed to squeeze the words past your throat. Clinging onto his jacket as you placed your head near his chest.
‘I thought there was nothing that could scare you, dear?’
‘I lied.’
‘You would be a half-wit if you weren’t afraid of him,’
‘Of who?’
‘Look me in the eyes.’
‘I can’t be compelled.’
‘I know. You need to listen to me. You need to forget that we ever met. When someone asks you if you have seen me, you need to deny it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you have to! Please, I swear I’ll keep the noise to a minimum if you do…’
‘Okay,’
‘Okay. It was lovely to meet you. Hopefully we’ll meet each other again under different circumstances.’
‘Nice to meet you, Niklaus Mikaelson.’
‘Miss Renée…’ He bowed his head and with a blink of the eyes he was gone.
You knew that you would think back on this specific night more than just a few times.
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calummss · 3 months
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i feel awful for not having finished any requests. stories im uploading rn have been sitting in my drafts for months. mentally im not doing to well so my writers block is real. i apologise to all :/
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calummss · 3 months
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having a baby with marshall mathers/eminem
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headcanon includes timeline, pregnancy and after birth bullet points
for the purpose of this headcanon the baby is called romy
timeline
i imagine marshall to also be young in this universe — 24 years old, can barely keep a job down. you work multiple jobs to pull through college. becoming parents was the last thing on your mind
finding out you were pregnant was a shock; as much sex as you two had, you always made sure to be protected, so when you suddenly realised your period was late and took a pregnancy test your heart literally dopped
you literally dropped everything, crammed the test into your pockets and marched through the frosty detroit morning to the restaurant marshall was currently employed under and asked to see him
marshall assured you that whatever conclusion you came to would be right and would support you no matter what
that definitely was the biggest weight lifted off your shoulders—the reassurance that marshall would stick with you if you decided to keep the baby
it was definitely a tough decision and took you almost two weeks to completely make up your mind
you ofc decided to keep the baby (otherwise whats the point of this headcanon?)
marshall promised to that he would be by your side and support his new family
literally 5 seconds after you told him you wanted to keep the baby, he pulled out a ring and said ‘thank god cause this is just a good excuse to marry you’
and we all know that having a child in marriage is far easier (but marshall also loved you and would’ve married you anyways)
baby mathers would be born on december 25th aka christmas because it would just be the best christmas present
what it would include (during pregnancy)
i feel like marshall is the type to be extra careful with you; offering his arm or hand when walking down steps, not letting you carry heavy things, making sure you cannot be hurt in whatever it is you are doing. and if any of his friends did something harmless but he saw it as a danger, he would be so pissed off
i also think it’s very possible for him to call your unborn baby ‘baby mathers; little slim’ something sweet that builds a connection
i imagine marshall to be very helpful with things around the house or other things that need to be done but he’ll definitely be pissed a few times because even though he understands that you’re supposed to relax and take care of yourself and the baby, he feels an extra burden so maybe he snaps once or twice? he immediately apologises but it’s a lot for a man who constantly takes new jobs and tries to be the best husband and father
i 100% see him talking to your stomach. he’ll talk to his daughter, catch her up on life and what he’s doing
‘hello baby, it’s daddy. mommy only has a few months left before we finally get to meet you. don’t take too long though because mama is startin’ to get very tired. the doctor said that you’re due for christmas. now daddy isn’t one who belives in destiny but you my little lady are goin’ to be our little christmas present. daddy has no money right now and that makes him feel like a bum but he’ll work extra hard to give you everything you ever want… if you ever want a unicorn you just come and let daddy know, okay?’
i have this gut feeling that he tries to hide his feelings. during this time marshall is so overwhelmed. he’s happy to welcome his daughter, stressed because he doesn’t know how long his job will last and how much money he can put down. you’ll find him crying in the kitchen one night after you wake up and couldn’t feel him beside you. you let him cry alone knowing he needed alone time
marshall will try to honour your cravings and buy you anything you want. if he’s short on money or can’t leave he will ask deshaun to swing by (and shaun cannot say no to you)
the d12 group will 100% pledge allegiance to baby mathers!! like you just now that as soon as you hang out together they’re gonna talk about how baby mathers will be protected at all costs, no one’s gonna f*ck with her etc. it’s like they’re her bodyguards ready to get at anyone’s neck who would even dare take a wrong glance at her
marshall’s arm would drape over your stomach when you two sleep at night. his arm would go from lying on a flat surface to a montain but he didn’t seem to mind. it was a habit he picked up
when you get closer to your due date this man would be stressed!! i mean stressed! any call out (shit, fuck, no, yes, what, literally the list goes on and on) would have a panting marshall by your side in less than a few seconds. he’s just waiting for your water to break. he’s extra careful during the last weeks because at this point you’re also stressed and just want the pregnancy to be done with
so when your water does finally break you know the bag is packed and in less than 5 minutes you’re on your way to the hospital, i just know it
extra: during labour he’s so supportive: holding your hand, motivating you, but deep inside he’s so much more stressed than you are lmao
what it would include (after birth)
he would not be able to let go of her. any time you turn away and look back he’d have little romy in his arms, literally hearts in his eyes as he stares down at her
you both decided on breastfeeding but you bought formula so that he could feed her and seeing him holding her in his arms feeding her the bottle makes your heart skip a beat. it allowed him to be as close to her as you were during feedings
he is absolutely obsessed with her hands. he loves how her baby hand wraps around his finger, and when she’s older the feeling of her small hand in his as it engulfs hers
plus he loves carrying her. he just loves the closeness. he will carry his baby girl anywhere and everywhere
marshall would be so proud to show her off to his friends. and if she wasn’t with him he’d find any reason to talk about her. they could be talking about the best ways to make a drink and he’d just start rambling about baby romy. some of them playfully roll their eyes but understand where he’s coming from
he’ll definitely be overwhelmed the first months when she wakes up crying in the middle of the night because it just adds to the stress but will never openly complain about it. he toughens up and goes to her room to calm her down
he’d have an addiction with baby clothes and browsing around stores literally fighting himself wether or not he actually needs to buy certain things
he’ll only address his daughter as ‘baby’ to the point you tell him to start calling her romy because she’d probably start to believe that baby was her name
marshall would definitely beat himself up trying to live up to his own expectations as a father. having no father to look up to, he tries to do his daughter justice but feels like he fails her in certain moments. those moments similar to those during pregnancy, he would sit alone in the kitchen just thinking about how to make things right
he’d insist on bringing baby romy EVERYWHERE. this man cannot stay away from her for longer than a few hours. she’s his serotonin, his lifeline
he’d have a piggy bank for her where he would put a 1/4 of his pay into so that she would be able to buy things she wanted
romy (and you) would serve as his main inspiration for music and also motivate him to work hard to make it out of greensbriar
after his rise to fame, despite his busy work schedule, marshall tries to spend as much time with her as possible
he tries to do few shows so that he’s not away from her and you for too long
with the rise of fame, his income flooded in. marshall buys her almost everything she wants. not stuff she doesn’t need but a lot. he’s not spoiling her in the way you think. he just wants her to have everything he didn’t have and make her happy. and if buying her a fourth barbie doll makes his baby smile then he will buy her that fourth barbie doll!!
though romy serves as his drive and motivation and inspiration for many of his songs, he tries to keep her out of the spotlight and out of hollywood. as soon as he’s done recording, attending award shows etc. he’s back on a plane to detroit to see his baby the only lady he adores (see what i did? ofc you did.)
he’d just be such an amazing father which you remind him of every day. he still doubts a lot but he’s starting to know his impact on her life
also romy comes before anything else!! daddy-daughter-day at kindergarten? sorry dre but this recording will be postponed. tour dates fall onto romy’s first day of school? yeah that tour night ain’t happening—i think you get what i’m trying to say. nothing will stop him from experiencing milestones and important memories in her life and in his life as a father (learned what not to do from his father)
the older she gets the more sentimental he becomes. seeing his baby grow up makes him sad and proud at the same time. she’s not only his whole world but she is the reason for him breathing and continuing in life even if it seems that life doesn’t want him to win
you made romy a cd with all the songs dedicated or about her from her daddy so when she’s in her room playing with dolls whatever, his songs are on repeat and the sight of it could make him fall to his knees (metaphorically speaking)
when romy turns 4 and older she’ll randomly make him watch her self choreographed dances or sing along to his songs and you best believe he is smiling and clapping after EVERY performance his baby girl gives!! he’s her number 1 fan. he even encourages her to show his friends and you already now they’re hyping up their little lady
and when romy is 15, oh she’s gonna rap him some of his songs and he’ll have the same reaction. maybe even share the stage for one song? who knows?
marshall is known for his rap and not for his cooking for a reason but he has few recipes like pancakes or foods he grew up with that are staples and enjoys cooking them for romy (she has her dad’s tastebuds 100%)
when romy has nightmares he’ll let her sleep in your bed for as long as she needs to feel safe again (deep down he never wants his baby to leave)
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calummss · 4 months
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Him & I | Kai Anderson
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summary: you came to kai like you were an angel sent from god. he finally met his match. you wanted to get revenge and he cleared the path
pairing: fem! reader x kai anderson
words: 2.9k
a/n: kai is everything i despise in a man yet i cannot stop thinking about him. fuck my rights i’ll make you a manwhich like the woman i’m supposed to be NOT PROOFREAD TBH
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Gluttony is a sin. So is sloth. Eating an entire bag of chips was not healthy. Sitting on the couch from dawn to dusk, only getting up to relieve yourself, was not good. But who listens to God these days anyways.
knock knock
‘Be right there!’ You yelled, hoping whomever was at the door could hear you and would wait until you had mentally prepared yourself to get up from your nest. You pressed pause of Golden Girls, placed your bag of gluttony on the table and brushed the remaining crumbs on your finger on your back thigh. Thankfully you showered this morning so whomever you greeted wouldn’t be welcomed with the smell of your tiredness. It was just one of those days where doing nothing was the most satisfying for the soul. Keeping the ripples of the sea of stress at bay, hoping that the storm wouldn’t take over.
Through the small peephole of the front door you saw an unfamiliar man with kool aid blue hair in a suit who was swaying his body as he waited to face the owner. ‘Jesus christ,’ you cursed under your breath, letting your hand slide over your face. Not Jehovah witnesses again. You had told them to not come back but when life serves no purpose we mainly cling to the unimportant aspects of life and let small parts become our worst traits.
You opened the door, dropping your droopy expression and replacing it with a hostile smile. Kindness: America’s number one trait making it an aggravating society.
‘Hi,’ you grinned at him, ‘not interested.’
The man blinked at you, wrinkles on his forehead reminding you of the ripples in your soul as he breathed out a laugh. ‘You don’t even know what I was going to say, Ma’am.’
‘Call it my gift.’
‘You must think I’m in some kind of cult,’ he smiled, ‘I can assure you I’m not. My name is Kai Anderson and I was hoping I could talk to you about my plans for this town so I might be able to persuade you into voting for me to become a member of the town council.’
‘Oh.’
‘Can I come in?’
‘I suppose…’ You were unsure but the thought of your pepper spray in the kitchen drawer made you feel safer, in case anything went wrong, so you resorted back to the smile you first gave him. ‘Of course. Come in…?’
‘Kai Anderson.’
‘Right, Kai. Can I call you Kai? I’m Y/n Blythe. You can call me Y/n. Oh my I am rambling,’
Kai came in as you stepped aside to open up the door for him. He kindly took off his shoes. A rule you had but hadn’t seen most Americans do. You looked back at him as you started to head to the kitchen to make sure you wouldn’t lose him. You immediately opened up the cupboard to grab a mug.
‘Tea or coffee?’
‘Coffee would be nice. Black please and thank you.’
‘No problem,’
‘I have to say,’ he placed his folded hands on top of the counter as he watched you get his coffee ready. ‘You are the first person in this neighbourhood to invite me in and to welcome me so kindly.’
You watched him as you grabbed another mug to make yourself a drink too.
‘Most think my ideas are too radical. Too oppressive. Too different. These people preach about change every day but when I give them a chance to vote for change they ignore me.It’s like these people get off on living in his prison courtyard they’ve created.’
‘So what are your goals, Kai?’ You took a sip of your piping hot drink after handing him his own. ‘To strengthen this town’s safety? God forbid this cluster of people need to be…polished.’
Kai’s face somewhat softened. ‘That’s exactly what I said…’
So when Kai talked about his idea you listened. To every word, to every detail. Kai was going to make this town safe again. And for some reason you couldn’t explain, you believed him. Every single word he said to you in the confidence of your own house, you believed.
‘By the hope you don’t mind me saying this but you are so beautiful and I would hate myself for not asking but am I able to take you out to a café this week ‘ He asked, his hazel eyes burning into your soul, making those ripples turn flat as he gazed at you like a had witnessed a deer in the wild. ‘I just, you’re really beautiful and kind and your beliefs about this town have drawn me to you,’ Kai had gaped at you the moment you had opened the door to him. Eyes shining in the sunlight; you looked like an angel. Perhaps an angel God had sent him to. Like he was supposed to find you. For him to find his own angel.
When you went on that date with Kai, it had turned into three more the following two weeks. He mentioned that he had a group of friends that are helping him with the campaign and the more he revealed about it, the closer you got to the truth, at least that is what you thought. It sounded like a cult whenever he rambled on about anything that involved these ‘friends’ and whether or not it was true, it was something you wanted to find out. It took Kai persistent asking and a little push to allow you to ultimately bring you to his house where for some reason you felt weirdly comfortable. The friends or members you came to know were Winter, his sister, Beverly, Ivy, Gary, Samuel, Meadow and Tex, who had been tending to Kai like servants since you had entered his house which instantly confirmed your suspicions. But it didn’t scare you away. A man able to convince the partly smart people had to confirm some sort of high intelligence and if Kai wanted to make you part of his team or not, in your heart you had already made up your mind: you wanted to join. What did you have left to lose? A life? Family? Job? Perhaps.But when does another opportunity like this present itself. To become infatuated with a dangerously powerful man? Never. Maybe you could change him if you truly wanted to but right now, he was perfect. You would become his angel and he’d be your cult leader.
‘Kai,’ you said as you all gathered across the couches, some of their heads tuning your way. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course, Y/n. Anything,’
‘Are you guys behind the murders that have been happening?’
Now every head turned your way. You could hear the outside wind blowing through the trees, uneven breaths as you uttered your question. Why was it so shocking? They were the murderers. You knew it and sooner or later someone else would’ve found out.
‘It’s fine if you are. You don’t have to deny it.’ You saidly, letting out a small chuckle. ‘I saw a clown costume stashed on the couch and I saw one of them go into Chang's house.’
You saw Meadow stare at the ground. Must’ve been her. Kai looked back at the costume you had nudged your eyes at and confirmed it was Meadows when he gave her a cold stare she didn’t notice.
‘Why?’ Kai turned his head back to look at you with a weirdly twisted smile that made your stomach churn. ‘Do you like that we kill people? Does that excite you?’
‘Honestly I like it and yes. I mean I was attracted to you before but now I really fucking like you,’
His eyebrows softened as you said your words.
‘Can I come and watch a killing?’
Kai had given the others a look to which they all started moving towards the stairs, further confirming the authority he had over them. In a matter of seconds the basement was empty and his presence within the walls grew dramatically. Like smoke he expanded into every crevice of the room, hovering over you like poisonous gas that crept into every cell of your body. Watching your every move like he was a deity. ‘You want to watch a killing?’
‘Yes.’ You replied.
‘What if you were to pick out the person to be killed?’
‘I think I’d like that even more,’ you could feel a tinge of warmth collect on the apples of your cheeks, avoiding eye contact as Kai’s eyes held the most sinful stare you had seen.
‘Who?’
You looked up from between your eyebrows, ‘My ex-boyfriend,’ you started already seeing Kai’s nostrils flare with jealousy. ‘Cheated on me when I gave him nothing but the woman I thought he deserved. Now he deserves to die.’
Kai came awfully close, a chill taking over your body as he placed his large hands on your arms with a firm grip. Tighter than normal; possessive, like a hunter holding its fragile prey. ‘Tonight. Meet us here at 11pm and I swear you will get your revenge, little angel.’ Lust protruded between your frames, like hot heavy steam that fogged up your glasses if you go too close, but went back when you stepped back trying to calm your nerves. Like a priest in a confessional booth he made you nervous. Like he could see into the most intimate parts of your soul; feel you; see you like no one could. The way his voice penetrated your ears telling you what to do. Siren-like commands that you had complete control over yet wanted to treat him like your leader.
Later that evening when you returned back to Kai’s house, you saw everyone dressed in the clown costumes you had seen entering and exiting the Chang’s house only now there were less red stains than before. Meadow lifted up a black trash back with a fading smile. ‘Kai only gave me a few hours' notice. Hope it fits.’ You opened the bag to find a sort of skirt and top with pink and black stripes with a mask that reminded you of a scarier version of a childhood clown you had once encountered at an amusement park where you momentarily got separated from your parents leaving you terrified and vulnerable. Getting changed went by quick and by them time you had gotten into your new outfit, Winter hd already started the van so that as soon as you entered the back of the vehicle, Winter started driving down similar streets you took whilst dating the boy who was in for a sweet treat tonight. Kai kept eyeing you the entire time. Maybe he tried to find a momentary weakness; a flinch of regret, anything he deemed not worthy, but he never found an ounce of repression, only the focus of a woman who knew exactly what and how she was going to do it. The walk to your ex’s house was filled with a relaxing quietness. The calm before the adrenaline would rush through your veins ready to lift you to the clouds as you took in the feeling of satisfaction. The lights were on in his bedroom, the room you had found him in inches deep in the girl you had thought to be your friend at the time. The door creaked almost too loud as Samuel pried open the door with a bolt, waving the rest of the group towards him as he checked the inside of the kitchen. Samuel let you lead the way with the floor plans ingrained into your mind as you had the others on your trail awaiting you to let them know when you stood outside his door. Marshall—said ex-boyfriend was blasting old rap music so you knew he was showering. He said the shower provided him with the need to rap and listen to old hip hop. One of his quirks you had learned to love but now loathed. With the song changing to Eminem’s discography, the music you sang together later to find him fucking her to Evil Seed brought up a fire in your stomach ready to unleash. Kai came up behind you and placed his hand on your shoulder telling you to go in. Feeling a bump of confidence, you opened the door and walked across his room to where his bathroom door stood shut. You decided to not wear the mask Meadow had given you to let Marshall feel calm before real intentions were laid before him.
You opened the door, Marshall’s shower steam covering his body behind the glass, eyes shut, mouth moving to the songs. You walked over slowly, yet he never noticed anything until you had said Hello, inches away from him. Marshall jumped back almost losing balance, wide eyes and raised eyebrows relaxing when he realised it was you, a faint chuckled escaping him as he reached for the music box to turn down the music.
‘What are you doing here?’ He asked nicely, a hint of confusion in his eyes.
‘I missed you.’
‘You left me.’
‘I know. I think it was a mistake.’
He didn’t answer.
‘I wasn’t good enough and should’ve been better so that you wouldn’t have to look for the missing part of me in other women. My fault for not being good enough.’
‘You really want to get back together?’
‘Yes,’ you came closer, reaching for his cock to palm him. He lifted his head, lip quivering as he fought to keep his eyes open. He lowered his head to say something by the way he had opened his mouth but when he opened his eyes again, his knotted eyebrows staring past you had made you aware that the others must’ve been behind you by now.
‘Who are they?’
‘My friends.’ You continued to pump his cock, giving you complete control over him with a single motion. You could feel Kai’s eyes slicing into your back but it didn’t matter. You weren’t enjoying stroking his cock because you wanted him, all you needed was control and for a man irresistible to a handjob it was the perfect weapon to be used. ‘They’re here to help me.’
‘With what?’
‘To kill you.’
‘What.’
‘You hurt me, Marshall. You tossed me aside and fucked another woman. You broke my heart.’ Your grip tightened around him, the pressure inching him closer to coming. ‘Now I have to do the same. To move on.’
‘What—What the fuck are you on about, Y/n.’ He tried to push you away but you pulled him closer with a tug. ‘Get out.’
‘No.’
‘Leave or I’ll call the fucking cops.’
‘Fine,’ you said. ‘Can I take what’s mine at least?’ You stared past the others into the old room you were sure still had a few of your items you had forgotten about.
‘Sure but after I want you to fucking leave.’
‘Okay.’ You smiled.
A low-pitched scream filled the bathroom door as you stared at Marshall whose eyes rolled into the back of his head, hand flying to his front only to find his cock in your hands, red dripping from both of you as you threw it over your shoulder. ‘I’ll take the rest of you with me.’
After you had gotten your revenge on Marshall, you stood around him in a circle, covered in blood splatters and sweat pearls.
‘That was the most beautiful thing I have ever done and seen.’ You breathed, catching your breath as you stared at the bloody sight.
Kai stared at you with heart eyes. He could’ve gotten down on one knee that second and asked you to marry him but the thought of you palming Marshall less than twenty minutes ago had made his eyes go dark, a wave of anger and jealousy consuming him entirely as he stormed off downstairs. You immediately followed him to see him slide off his clown head, baby hairs sticking to his temples, nostrils flaring like they had before at his home. He was angry.
‘Why did you do that?’ He growled.
‘I did it because Marshall cannot say or do anything when his cock feels good. I wanted to control him one last time. Why? Did it make you jealous?’
‘Yes it fucking did?’ He bellowed, spit coming from his mouth as he strutt towards you, pushing you into the wall, his hand around your throat as he came dangerously close. ‘You tell me you basically like me and then touch another man’s cock. Are you a whore? Why did you do it!’
‘Would it make you feel better if I touched you now?’
‘Don’t play with me.’ He snarled, his grip on your throat now so tight you could feel the air thinning. ‘You’re mine.’
‘I know.’
‘Say it!’
‘I’m yours.’
‘And don’t you forget it.’ He pulled you to his lips by your throat, releasing the pressure that had bound you to half breaths.
He was your leader and you were his angel. In the end it was him and you. Only a love that you could understand and that was fine because you didn’t want to share any part of him anyway.
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calummss · 4 months
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i feel awful for not having finished any requests. stories im uploading rn have been sitting in my drafts for months. mentally im not doing to well so my writers block is real. i apologise to all :/
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calummss · 4 months
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Hello love 💕
This isn't a request but a question, would you consider writing for Count Vronsky from Anna Karenina?
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hii. sorry i haven’t checked my inbox for a while.
at the time being, no. i haven’t watched the movie so i wouldn’t know what or how to write. the movie is on my watchlist but even if i watch it im unsure if i would 🫶🏻
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