#that's an icarus bus

[foul-milk]

are they driving them around in the hop-on-hop-off budapest sightseeing bus?😂

[lunar--iris]

im just going to drop this here.....

[easternblocrelics]

Speciality: Hungarian Ikarus Bus on test drive in Los Angeles The lady (also Hungarian) on the cover is the main engineer for this model 1978

[dailyicarus]

Turn him into an LPS maybe

DAY 84

he got taken off the shelves for having too many sharp bits

[apollos-boyfriend]

found out the project i’ve been rushing to finish all day is due thursday and not today. i’ve had the absolute worst fucking week alive and it’s not even wednesday 😭

[lemuel-apologist]

thinking about that nlog phase again. we see it as a moral failing on the part of the young, that some girls want to separate themselves from the conception of girls as a whole. i know the classic rebuttals are that it's fine to be like other girls and that to viciously separate yourself in such an admittedly cringe way is just buying into the myths of patriarchy--

but what of girls who really, truly did not fit that mold? who didn't have common ground with other girls as often as they did their male peers? i didn't become like that consciously. as best i can tell, it was a response to being socially sidelined for most of my childhood. i didn't consciously notice what was happening to me until junior high, around ninth grade.

because that's what you do with weird and gross girls. girls who eat out of the trash. girls who like stage tech. girls who have a weird thing about how cool frankenstein is. girls who won't touch middle grade or YA romance. girls who cannot relate to the common experiences of their peers. i was not the one who shot myself with toy arrows at sleepovers because i thought it was funny. i was not the one casting myself as an old lady in every play. i was not the one leaving myself out of social experiences, study groups, playing at recess. it was a social phenomenon i didn't have much control over, because i was different, they knew it, and it was socially weird to have me around. taking on an aspect of "not like other girls" in retaliation to being told you are not like your peers (and this is bad) is like baby's first reclamation. it's an attitude to grow out of, but the fact is that it's the attitude that needs to change, not the aspects of your personality that your peers picked up on before you did.

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #27

Mammon: How many swords do you have?

Diavolo: Sword of a lot

Raphael: Blocked

Diavolo: Parried

•

Mammon: My pockets jingle with stolen buttons from hot topic

Mammon: I literally can’t stop stealing those buttons from the Button Vats like I don’t feel like paying 3 dollars for a piece of tin with Pusheen on it but I do feel like doing a heist

Mammon: Call the cops bitch I’ll have sex with them

Simeon: This feels like the kind of thing you overhear when the person next to you on the bus is having a heated phone call

•

Belphegor: Wasn’t ICarly that guy with wax wings who flew into the sun and fucking got rest because same

Belphegor: I just realized my phone corrected Icarus to ICarly because I type ICarly more than Icarus okay thanks

Mammon: I thought this was just a god tier shit post

•

Thirteen: Bro pick up your eboy he’s curled up in the corner of my living room quivering, speaking in tongues, and surrounded by an impenetrable wall of writhing lamb’s entrails

MC: That’s not my eboy that’s my malewife they’re supposed to do that

Thirteen: Stop being funnier than me or I’ll do something about

•

Belphegor: People like to claim you can’t be funny without being offensive but my twin once looked at a packet of tesco’s chicken and said “60% chicken? I like those odds.” And I’m still laughing sixteen years later

•

Mammon: How fucked up would it be if you jumped into a ball pit and it was just tomatoes painted different colors

Beelzebub: Depends

Mammon: …On what?

•

Satan: Amazing how a colon can completely change the meaning of a sentence. For example:

— Jane ate her friend’s Sandwich

— Jane ate her friend’s Colon

Leviathan: This is the hardest I’ve ever snorted. My nose/throat actually hurts a little now

•

Mephistopheles: There are breasts on my roof. Scampering about. Wretched.

Diavolo: Th—There are what

Mephistopheles: BEASTS BEASTS BEASTS BEASTS BEASTS BEASTS

•

MC: A knife block that screams when you put knives in it

Lucifer: A human

Barbatos: So a human

Solomon: Caesar

•

Solomon: Diamonds are carbon. People are carbon. I wonder how big a Diamond I could make out of one

Simeon: I think about your tumblr blog a lot. I think about the fact anyone can say anything on the open internet and I’m glad you are able to voice whatever is in your head

Solomon: Thanks

•

MC: Weatherboy (derogatory)

Diavolo: Op what does this mean

MC: Wouldn’t you like to know weatherboy

•

Asmodeus: Everyone wants me. Especially this guy chasing me with a knife

•

Mephistopheles: Fill your body with cranberries so the horse that kills you gets a sensual surprise

Barbatos: I will give the horse that kills me no such luxury

•

Mammon: *gets home*

*breaks knuckles* time to shit myself to sleep again boys

Mammon: Wait no it’s cracks knuckles

Mammon: Wait no it’s cry myself to sleep

Mammon: Don’t reblog this stop it

•

Asmodeus: Fun new blog title: “welcome to my twisted pussy”

Solomon: Ducks be like

Asmodeus: This is no longer a fun new blog title

•

Leviathan: I hope everyone is having a fucking day

Lucifer: Easily one of the days I’ve had this week

Last • Next

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 8

Hey, guys! The plot is plotting and coming along. I've just had a rough week last week and really didn't get too far on any of my works but the omegaverse sequel. So I'm chomping through my backlog (which is a good thing, I promise, that's what it's for).

In this Steve has to deal with the not fun side of the music business, but Eddie is there to soothe the way.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7

****

Steve chewed on his nail as he looked over the contract for the tour they were going to be headlining for Corroded Coffin. It came with their usual anonymity clause.

The part Steve wasn’t sure about was the part where the guys and his roles on the tour to hide that they were part of the band.

Spence being a medic made sense. He was medically trained as an EMT and kept up on his certification even after they made it big.

Simon’s made sense too. Eddie had seen him as a roadie that night, so him continuing that was fine.

It was Shane and Steve’s that concerned him. He didn’t want to PA for The Fallen because then Dustin and his friends would want things like backstage passes and VIP tickets.

Things Steve didn’t want to do because that would get them too close to the action and he worried they would notice that they wouldn’t see Abbadon and him in the same place and put two and two together.

Shane’s role was that of an advance person. Someone that rode into town first to make sure everything was as it supposed to be according to their rider.

Steve loved Shane with all his heart, but he couldn’t think of a worse “job” for him.

Plus it wouldn’t make sense because he wouldn’t be on the same bus as the rest of the band.

He called up Robin.

“Hello!” she chirped her greeting. “What’s up?”

“I’m looking over the contract and they want me to PA and Shane to advance.”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before Robin said, “I’m on it. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, Celeste,” Steve teased.

He was not surprised when she just hung up on him. He chuckled.

His best friend was working on getting Shane and him in the right roles. On their last tour, Shane and Simon had been roadies and Steve had been an assistant like Robin.

Steve looked back at the contract with a sigh. He set it aside and pulled out his notebook. He couldn’t write lyrics or music, but he could write down his thoughts and feelings.

He wrote about the fear of being discovered, of showing his true self. What people would think of him and his friends. Everyone said that metal fans were among the most welcoming in the industry.

Unless you looked like someone they didn’t approve of. Steve couldn’t remember which 1980s rocker it was, but the dude was papped outside a store waiting for his wife in cargo shorts and Birkenstocks and the internet had a fucking field day.

Like how dare he go to the store not dressed all in black and leather and chains everywhere.

It was no doubt the biggest reason no one had cottoned on to him and his friends being The Fallen. Because why would four preppy guys be the members of the hottest rising metal band right now?

He flipped to a different page and began writing about finding love where you left it. Eddie had always had Steve’s heart, ever since they were thrown together when a freak earthquake that was caused by nearby fracking destroyed almost half the town they grew up in.

Eddie ran the local DND club which Dustin and his friends had been a part of.

Steve had managed to keep all of them safe and Eddie, who had been unsure of the former jock had warmed up to him by the time they had come through at the end of the week long ordeal.

Steve had fallen in love with Eddie’s sense of humor, his dimpled smile, and doe brown eyes.

So he wrote about that too.

By the time Robin had called back he had written so much his hand was cramping.

“Hello, hello!” he greeted warmly.

“Hey,” Robin said. “So I talked it over with their lawyers and ours and I think we’ve go the solution.”

“Hit me with it,” Steve said.

“Right so we have Shane assisting with me,” she said. “He doesn’t have anyone really close to him who would ask for favors and shit, or at least not ones he wouldn’t gleefully tell to fuck off.”

Steve sighed in relief. “That’s good.”

“You were a little trickier,” Robin admitted. “But then I remembered you picked up a couple of CPR certifications in the past and got them to make you medic too. You just have to take the refresher courses while we’re in the studio.”

Steve chewed on his thumb. He had wanted to be an EMT before he met Spence and saw how much it took out of him.

“Wouldn’t it look bad if two medics suddenly vanished for two hours every night?”

Robin chuckled. “You’re assigned especially to the band. So you can’t be called during a performance. I do think of these things you know.”

Steve sighed with relief. “I know you do, I just worry.”

“Worry wart,” she teased. “It’ll be fine. You just have to keep it in your pants while on tour because an EMT dating a rockstar is going to be suspicious as hell.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You mean like every other tour we’ve been on?”

“Only this time,” she said, voice dangerously low, “you’ve got temptation in the form of one Eddie Munson, the man you’ve been pining over for literal years.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve groused. “Am I at least allowed to be seen with Eddie you know, considering we are friends?”

Robin sighed dramatically. “I guess. Just try to keep the PDA to a minimum please.”

“I promise.”

This was going to a very long three month tour.

****

Jim Hopper was a former Marine and he looked it. He was built like a tank with a grizzled appearance and cigar tucked between his teeth. Simon thought that he thought Hopper scared the enemy off just glaring at them and Steve privately agreed.

He was there for two reasons. To deprogram their stage persona and to brush Steve up on his emergency medical training.

Actually they all were learning because it was it interesting. Simon and Shane didn’t need to pay attention for certification, but they did anyway.

“How long do you guys plan to be in the studio this week?” Hopper asked. “I need to know if I need to have someone else pick up my daughter from the airport.”

“They want us to have at least eight hours in the studio a day,” Shane explained. “They want us to get as much done as we can before Corroded Coffin goes on tour so they can at least release a single or two.”

Hopper nodded. “Then I should be fine. She’s a fashion designer in New York and the fashion house she works at is sending her out here to intern at their LA branch.”

“That’s awesome!” Shane said. “Maybe while she’s here we can fan her design our costumes for the new tour.”

Hopper shook his head. “As long as it paid. This internship sure ain’t.”

Robin threw her arms in the air. “Fine! I’ll see what the budget is for that and get back to you.”

Hopper chuckled.

“They have you wrapped around their fingers, girly.”

Robin smirked. “Don’t I know it.”

****

That night Steve called Eddie up.

“Hey, baby,” he cooed.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie greeted back. “How did today go? It was first day with the deprogramer, right?”

Steve curled up on the sofa and tucked his feet under him. “It was okay. He’s a bit scary, but apparently he has a daughter Dustin’s age.”

“The butthead will be pissed he missed that,” Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed warmly. “She’s really pretty, too.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Suzie’s a great girl. But we all know here parents aren’t going to let her marry someone ‘outside the faith’ as it were.”

Steve chewed on his thumbnail. “Yeah. I was hoping with them both going home for the whole summer would break them up.”

Eddie scoffed. “It’s good thing talk and text is included in mobile plans these days unlike in early days of yore when mobile plans made you pay for every text message and long distance calling, otherwise their cell phone bills would be through the fucking roof.”

“Tell me about,” Steve huffed. “And he’s going to spending the last week of vacation in Utah with her.”

“Eeee,” Eddie said with a grimace, “is it bad of me that I hope her parents scare him off?”

“Maybe a little,” Steve admitted. “But I just want him to be happy, you know?”

Eddie let out a long drawn out sigh. “Yeah. So you guys got the contract all figured out?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Steve muttered. “It’s going to be hard being in the studio and taking EMT course to pretend to be medical personnel. Well not really pretending. Both me and one of the other band members have training. Me with being a lifeguard for awhile there and them with being an EMT. But it feels wrong somehow.”

“Is there something else, some other role you can fill?” Eddie asked after a moment or two of silence.

“Not according to Robin,” Steve groused. “She says it’ll be fine and no one will figure it out. And I trust her. Her plans have gotten us through two tours already, one even being overseas...”

“But you’re still worried because I’ll be on the road with you?” Eddie asked gently.

Steve threw his head back and groaned. “God that sounds so horrible of me.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie admonished. “It’s not. It’s an extra variable you didn’t have to factor in before. But we will make it work.”

“I think the biggest part is that Eddie and Steve have to remain friends until after the tour so everyone doesn’t connect Steve with Abbadon,” he said. “God that sounded pretentious. Talking in third person like some Chad.”

Eddie giggled. “Maybe a little, but I got what you mean.”

“Don’t laugh!” Steve whined. “My dick is going to fall off from the sheer amount of blue balling that’s going to be happening on this fucking tour. Well not fucking actually. I’m going to be in hell!”

“And people tell me I’m dramatic,” Eddie said laughing out loud. “What do you normally do on tour?”

Steve sat up and stretched his feet out in front of him on the sofa. “It’s complicated.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t doubt that, sweetheart. Are we talking NDAs or fucking with the masks on?”

Steve laughed. “It’s more like no phones, dark room, no staying the night. That sort of thing.”

“I’m betting there aren’t many that agree to that.”

“More than you’d think,” Steve snorted. “Groupies gotta fuck.”

“We’ll figure something out. I won’t let those pretty balls go blue,” Eddie said with a snicker.

“Help me, Eddie-wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope!” Steve cried in a sharp falsetto.

Eddie laughed. “You’re a menace, Steve Harrington.”

“And you love it.”

Warmth just flooded Eddie’s tone when he replied, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Eds.”

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch

@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian

@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

[emberunderscore]

FableSMP EPIC the musical AU

whole thing comes from the perspective of Midas (as Quixis specifically) being Scylla, which means Icarus has to be Odysseus, which is also fitting tbh.

this is only based on the released sagas bc i dont have the vibe of the future characters yet (i dont look at a whole lot of snippets). also dont think about any of the blood family stuff too hard - theres nothing weird dw but it just makes stuff complicated with the gods

Monsters

Scylla - Quixis Midas

The ideas of Scylla being human turned monster, Midas is human turned Quixis, which in this universe could be something of a replacement for monstrous, which also works with 

Spooky bitch Midas propaganda

Look at my edit to be even more convinced

Polyphemus - Leviathan/Vorago

Probably makes most sense with Leviathan

Instead of the parent/child relationship with Poseidon they're siblings (ocie is poseidon)

Humans/Dead people

Odysseus - Icarus

Icarus has to be Ody because of Midas being Scylla

The song Monster

The conflicts within the plot work well with Icarus’ own relationships

Eury and Ody see each other as brothers, even though it isn't’t blood. Maybe they’re not blood related in this AU

Eurylochus: Rae

Brothers!!

Rae is seen as the leader of Lodestar, which works well with Eury’s place as the voice of the crew

Penelope: Centross??

prison duo

but it actually works because Icarus would do anything for him. just look at season 3

he's probably not smart enough to be penelope but the agenda is more important than that

Telemachus: Oscar

Ik Oscar isn't Icarus' kid but he is Centross and theoretically Centross would've been the one to raise him anyway

See Legendary

Polities: Athena

Optimist

Song open arms

"everything's changed since polities"

Perimedes: Caspian

Perimedes is the one who stabs Odysseus in the back to stop him from killing Eurylochus in Mutiny

For Rae? Cas wouldn't hesitate

Tireseas: Haley

Dead prophet

who else

Ody's dead mom: Isla

Isla is Icarus' mom??? In this AU??? /s

Gods

Zeus: Fable

Orignially this was Epros but I was convinced to change it

Massive ego

Yellow

Actual reasons in this post

Athena: Enderian

This could also be fable but I dont think Icarus would defy him like how he does

Goddess of the Mind, need I say more

Aeolus: Aurelius

They have the vibes I think

Aeolus is gender and so is Aurelius

There are a lot of options I think

I like the idea of the Winions(?) being the piglins they had in their bunker

Poseidon: Ocie

Ocean

At the beginning Ocie is so ready to kill people, she does not care for human life. Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves

She would do that for Vorago

Canon compliant beef with Icarus 

Circe: Momboo

My first thought was Ven because I'm a fucking dumbass

It makes so much more sense than Ven

Plant lady, plant witch

badass

girlboss

pretty woman

Hermes: Rakai

They have the vibes

One of the very few gods to tolerate Icarus

gender

Apollo: Malitae

Apollo sounds so fruity in god games

Apollo cares most about music in god games which is a form of expression so i think it fits for Malitae to be him

Hephaestus: Nexus

In god games Hephaestus' thing is trust, he's pissed that Ody betrayed his crew

Nexus is the Goddess of Loyalty so it fits really well that she'd be upset about that

Nexus was also a knight so being a god of blacksmithing isn't too far from that

Aphrodite: Soul

Aphrodite cares about Ody's mom's broken heart

If we thing of it in the context of soulbonds it makes sense that Soul would be upset about that

Ares: Netherum

Ares is the only one in god games to match Athena's power, which checks out - major god to major god

Maybe its a bit ooc for Netherum themself

But god of destruction as the god of war. thats something

Would totally step in for Soul

Hera: Perix

In this AU we ignore family dynamics- Perix is not married

Calls Athena "baby" (kinda gay)

Fits the vibe

can you come up with a better idea? no, nor could I (credit to Sardar106 for this casting lol)

Calypso: Ven

They're so "This could never really happen but let us pretend"

"I wish we could've been something"

Look at this post (person who reblogged has better words than me go read that)

thank you for coming to my au talk. please share your own thoughts and opinions (but also remember that i am objectively correct all of the time /j)

Updated after Wisdom Saga

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

From Helvete With Love

Summary: Euronymous' twin hippie brother is in town and up to cause some chaos! (Bear with me, I'll make it work!)

Pairing: Euronymous x fem!Reader x Kappa

Word Count: ~1.8k

Content Warnings: Double Trouble Smut 18+!, You Don't Really Expect This To Have A Noteworthy Plot Do You?, Threesome (mfm), Spit Roasting, Hair Pulling, Subspace, Emotional Cheating, Implied Substance Use (Alcohol and Pot), Dub-Con Due To The Substance Abuse, Kappa Having Insane Amounts Of Audacity While Euro Is Kind Of An Asshole

A/N: I really hope the nonnie with the Threesome request from 2-3ish weeks ago sees this 👀 Also not proofread bcs I literally need to catch the bus to work in like 3 minutes.

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess

Cry

Who do you need? Who do you love

When you come undone?

Who do you need? Who do you love

When you come undone?

- Come Undone By Bad Omens

In a high pitched jingle, the little bell above the door indicated that someone had entered the record store but you didn't really bother looking up from the latest issue of Kerrang! magazine, your eyes busy with studying an oven-fresh Duff McKagan interview.

"You call that shithole a record store, huh?" A somewhat familiar voice asked in a cocky tone.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the person it belonged to and the snarky comment certainly had you raising your gaze towards the counter, shooting right towards the new visitor.

With a sleazy grin playing around his mouth, a well familiar face stared at you with strikingly blue eyes just like those of your boyfriend.

"Look what the cat dragged in…it's the hippie cunt!" You teased right back at the man that happened to be Øystein's twin brother, Kappa.

"Oh, mean, missy!" He scoffed and arched his brows in amusement.

"What do you want, trashbag?" You sneered, smiling at him while your eyes roamed over his features.

You only had met him on a few rare occasions but it never failed to befuddle you just how similar and yet dramatically different Euronymous and Kappa were. Polar opposites in everything but being terribly eccentric and pretentious jackasses.

"I'm in town and I thought to say hi to my brother, is he around by any chance?" Kappa inquired, leaning his torso against the counter whilst throwing you a borderline flirty smile.

"In the back." You nodded your head towards the bureau behind the countertop to gesture him the way.

"Thanks, sugar!" Kappa quipped whilst walking around the counter, heading towards the bureau.

"Fuck off, hippe." You beamed at him with a cheeky smile before lowering your gaze back onto the glossy pages of the magazine.

Neither of you had really been ready for the way this day played out after this seemingly innocent interaction. Everything started with a few guiltless beers at the pub nearby, maybe a few shots of vodka too and the occasional cigarette to go with tipsily firing neurons, craving one hit of serotonin after the other at this point. However, the nicotine in your bloodstream turned into herbally-pungent THC by the time the three of you arrived back at Helvete, sloppy steps scratching over the cold asphalt illuminated by cool-toned street lights. Of course, Kappa had brought some weed with him and neither of you held back in indulging in it to the point where your body felt like one buzzing cloud made out of cotton candy. At some point you weren't sure anymore whether the couch was actually a part of you or not as your weary eyes grazed over a scenery of crushed beer cans, shot glasses and scattered vinyls. The air around you was thick and heavy with the smell of alcohol and pot, the smog covering the record store in a white, translucent veil seeping into every last nook and cranny.

Your bloodshot eyes felt like simply fluttering shut and you could've sworn they did but you weren't sure of this at all. Did you black out for a moment or where did the memories go that would’ve explained how your train of thought got back on track again as you heard yourself breathing out a muffled moan?

"There she is! Got me worried there for a second, sugar." You noticed Kappa talking to you in a breathy tone from above.

The hits of information reached your brain one after the other in a violent flush of realization. You knelt on all fours, a soft mattress underneath your palms and knees swallowing up a good part of the recoil caused by your body being penetrated from both ends, Kappa in the down your throat and Øystein buried deep inside your oozing cunt, both their cocks fucking into you in a firm pace.

Pulling in all the air you possibly could through your nose, you reluctantly looked up to Kappa as you noted how sore your jaw felt with your lips eagerly wrapped around his girth, sucking him off like you never did anything else in your life. How the hell did you get here? The question burned inside of your racing thoughts but you tried to push it to the side as your gaze met with Kappa's, who was looking down at you with an unexpectedly warm smile.

"Don't worry, I got you, make sure you’re okay, hun." He whispered to you in a raspy voice as the hand, that wasn't grabbing fistfuls of your hair to guide your head back and forth over his throbbing cock, went to your cheek to give you soft caresses filled with affirmation.

"Good girl.", He praised, the tip of his hard on nudging against the back of the throat, "Øystein really lucked out with you as a girlfriend. You're funny, you're smart and hella pretty."

"Could you not?" It was now that you really took notice of your boyfriend behind you with his hands on your hips and his lap rocking against your rear in desperate thrusts.

"What? You gotta make her feel at least a little special right now." Kappa sneered back at his brother without ever taking his eyes off of you, practically hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared into your throat with every roll of his hips.

"I think I can do that very well on my own." Euronymous huffed, tightening his grip around your waist before pushing himself into you with such brute force that it nearly hurt.

You winced around Kappa's cock, a few wayward tears pricking at your lower lash line and his thumb wiped them away before they could even really trickle down your face.

"Issok, sugar. C'mon, close your eyes and enjoy yourself." His broad hand cradled your face and you trusted him, allowed yourself to.

"There you go…" Kappa cooed to you in a saccharine-sweet voice, hips rolling against your face in a steady pace, careful to not hurt or overstimulate you.

With that you let yourself go, adjusting to his rhythm while your mind rendered blank. You've never ever felt this filled up before and it was continuously bordering on the very fine line of being just too much for your body but instead of your actual boyfriend it felt like Kappa was guiding you through this, all his attention was on you and you only. Of course, he loved the sight of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth in wet, sloppy sounds, making him feel ready to burst at any minute now but he not once put his own pressure released over your well-being in this constellation. Quite the contrary to his brother who was railing into you at a merciless pace from behind, rendering your tightening cunt sore from within. In a way, he knew that he wasn't having the upper hand here anymore and in desperate, failing attempts Øystein tried to turn your attention back to him which only led to you being even more infatuated with the gentle yet firm ways of his brother.

Kappa put you in a headspace you've never experienced before and to say that this state was blissful oblivion would've been an understatement. Mixed with all the substances in your bloodstream, you felt yourself slipping into beautiful nothingness and just felt your body, felt Kappa's cock sliding down over your tongue again and again while he held your head by your hair, steadying you, making sure to not accidentally choke you with his girth. He made it known that he was here for you and it made your chest feel all warm and secure, a warmth that would shot right down between your legs in the very next second, making you clench down around Euronymous' cock in what turned out to be the first contractions of an orgasm that took you by surprise. You inhaled sharply as undefined moans and whimpers vibrated around Kappa's hard on which he only reluctantly pulled out of your mouth. While Øystein rode you through your orgasm, gradually losing himself in it, Kappa stroked himself off with a few quick pumps of his fists, spilling and splattering thick ropes of his seed right onto your face. With your entire body convulsing around your boyfriend one rouge thought escaped its prison and ran wild inside your mind. For a moment you couldn't help yourself but to wish that it was Kappa's cock you were cumming on right now. Your eyes shot wide open as a sharp pang of shame and guilt chased right after the orgasmic high.

"Dude, really?!" Øystein groaned behind you, drilling himself into your now utterly overstimulated pussy one last time before coming undone deep inside of you himself. You recognised how he filled you up with himself like so many times before but you couldn't pull any please from it right now, instead you stared back up to Kappa who was breathing heavily.

"What? I thought it to be a bit more decent than busting my load down your girlfriend's throat, no?" Kappa scoffed at his brother, lowering his hand down to your face again, gathering a dollop of his cum from your chin and smearing it just over your trembling lips, the tip of his thumb prodding against your mouth, leaving it up to you whether to open up or not. Entranced by the way his icy blue eyes were beaming down at you, you did just that, a part of you defiling your boyfriend for never taking care of you the way his brother did.

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 01

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf (let me know if you wish to be tagged)

Mike sat in the passenger seat of Leff's 1970 Chrysler Newport which he treated like the child he always wanted. He was pissed to have been dragged out of bed so early to sit in the Train station parking lot. He had no idea who they were picking up or why he had to be with him but he was annoyed and tired.

"You're gonna need to get in the backseat." Leff said without looking at him.

"The fuck for?" Mike looked over at Leff who narrowed his eyes at him.

"Because I'd rather not watch Y/n embarrass you this early in the morning." He explained. Mike knew very little about this person they were picking up. He knew that they worked for Leff and just returned from doing an import run.

"He can sit in the backseat just fine." Mike laughed but when he felt Leff's gaze on him, he looked over at him.

"Are you fucking serious? I'm already comfortable, why do I have to move just because of them?" Mike whined.

"You sound like a fucking child." Leff groaned.

"You treat me like a fucking child." Mike argued. Leff rolled his eyes and continued to puff on a cigarette watching for this person to make their appearance.

"What's so special about this guy? I mean you made me take a fucking Uber from the airport when I got here but we're picking this guy up at the train station?" Mike asked curiously.

"Y/n works harder than you ever thought about working." Leff kept his eyes on the platform and Mike rolled his eyes.

"Y/n isn't a guy either so be respectful. Did your mother teach you any fucking manners?" Leff asked with frustration. Mike let out a laugh.

"So what? You fucking her?" Mike asked with his eyebrow up. Leff gave him a death glare before Mike put his hands up and got in the back seat mumbling about never getting any respect.

"Okay so this chick...what does she do exactly? I mean is she like Sicky? Is she like me, a runner?" Leff snorted.

"A runner? That's what you call yourself? She's not like either of you because she doesn't need a fucking job title to earn money." Leff explained.

"She's also off limits so don't even think about being cute with her, she'll cut your dick off before I even get a chance to slap you around for being an idiot." Leff pointed at him in the rearview with a warning.

"So you are fucking her?" Mike pressed and Leff swatted at him but he put his hands up.

"Jesus Christ! I'm just curious. What's her deal? Why am I not allowed to even ask about her?" Mike was getting irritated with how uptight Leff was being.

"She used to work for a nightclub that one of my competition works out of. I was fucking a few of her coworkers but she had reached out to me about your mom once." Mike's attention was piqued.

"What do you mean?" Mike pressed.

"When your mom was trying to get her fix, she would go to places like that and try and score. Y/n kept an eye on her for me but her boss wasn't too happy about it...tried to have her dealt with." Leff explained.

"But she works for you now? How did that pan out?" Mike was confused.

"Technically I paid a fee to take her out of the night club. The club boss didn't care, my competition still tries to make moves to bring her back into the fold over there." Leff shook his head.

"How can you trust someone who worked for the competition?" Mike asked and caught Leff's gaze in the mirror again.

"She got her ass nearly cut into pieces for getting your mom out of a deal gone wrong. I saved her life, got her out of that assholes crew. She doesn't have to suck dick or get her ass beat over here. She's worked her ass off and has never said no to a tough task. She's the best worker I got." Leff wanted Mike to know the situation with Y/n and how important she was to his team. She was a trustworthy person and had even known his mom. Mike really wanted to ask her about his mom but he knew Leff would probably shut that down.

It was still something that was too hard to talk about.

"There she is. Keep your dumbass comments to yourself or I'll kick your ass." Leff popped the trunk as she approached and she tossed two large duffels into the trunk before climbing into the car. Mike was surprised she was so attractive. He knew she once worked at a nightclub but she had naturally beautiful features.

"Who's Brokeback Mountain?" Y/n tossed her thumb to the backseat.

"Oh fuck off." Mike groaned in annoyance.

"That's my nephew, Mike. He's apart of the team now." Leff started to drive and Y/n turned back to look at him.

"Is this a permanent look or are you going through a phase of sorts where you like to suck dick?" Y/n asked with a smirk.

"You're one to talk with lips like that. Are you going for New York homeless or DC prostitute?" Mike fought back.

"Mike!" Leff growled but Y/n laughed.

"Oh he's going to be fun. I like him already." She turned in the seat and extended her hand.

"Y/n, I will absolutely be ripping you to shreds verbally on the daily." She smiled brightly and Mike felt a little part of him melt a little before taking her hand and shaking it.

"Mike and I look forward to going toe to toe with you any day sweetheart." He shook her hand and she flicked his cowboy hat.

"So does the hat get you any pussy?" Y/n asked curiously and Mike smirked.

"Why? You want to get in line?" He teased making Y/n laugh.

"This one is going to be trouble, you know that right?" She looked over at Leff who glared at her.

"Don't encourage is dumbass behavior. It will get him killed." Leff gritted.

"He'll be okay. You know Sicky and I will take good care of him." She tried to reassure and Mike was curious as to the touch she gave Leff's shoulder. Maybe she was into Leff? He needed to talk to her and get her story before he let himself get too interested in her.

"So you knew my mom?" Mike asked abruptly and the care grew silent. She looked over her shoulder and nodded at him.

"I did. She talked about you a lot....I'm sorry how things ended." Y/n looked at him with remorse and he wasn't expecting her to look so effected by the mention of her. He made a note to ask her about what she knew when Leff wasn't around.

"Are we done making friendship bracelets and braiding each others hair" Leff asked breaking up the silence.

"Don't' be jealous Leff. We can get you a cowboy hat if you want." She openly teased Leff and her glared at her. There was so much about her Mike wanted to know.

[causenessus]

try again sakusa kiyoomi moodboard

focus: being scared of yourself. burnout. forcing your anger down to protect yourself and others. watching yourself slowly grow less passionate about something you once loved. "i only know how to exist when i am wanted." miscommunication. being scared of loving too much and loving too little. wanting to stop time. "i am icarus / many people see my death as a tragedy / that is very wrong / they did not tell you i knew i would burn in flames / i ask myself, 'was it worth the fall for the sun?' / and i answer 'yes.' / 'yes.'" kisses over your injuries, asking for help. worn couches that you sink far too deep into, but they feel old, and like home. sleeping under a blanket, clean and warm, straight from the dryer. your grandmother cooking your favorite food, or hot chocolate on a cold winter day, when snow still blanketed the ground for weeks, and the sky was always gray, and she's just walked you home from the bus stop. "i did not mean to be cruel. i swear there is love inside of me, some place far, far away."

[apollos-boyfriend]

u guys know that one post that’s like. urgh. i’m so mad so i’m gonna go home and touch my husband’s tits so i won’t be mad anymore. feeling that hard rn but with writing

[lunar--iris]

Fable smp has come to an end, so my first post will be purely appreciation for everything that it has brought me. I found fable through sherbert's Tik Tok, they posted an Icarus video and I was interested.

My first fable stream was in season 1. I can't remember the stream title but it was Sherbert turning Haley's (blown up) house into a amethyst geode.

I remember that the beacons outside of their house were changed and they fixed it, but they changed again. I told them that they changed and they actually read my chat message. It's a feeling I can't quite describe. Every other twitch stream I have been in I felt so distant but Sherbert made me feel so seen in that moment.

After that first stream I continued watching, I was never caught up on lore and everyone streamed during my school day. Even with being lost every time there was lore I still felt like I was apart of something, fable gave me a space I could just be in even without fully understanding.

By the end of season 1 I barley knew what had happened. Through the beginning of season 2 I didn't know what was happening but when I started catch streams more I felt like I knew where I was supposed to be. I got a lot more involved in the community, I started cosplaying and making fanart.

When school started again I fell into a really dark place and as the year continued it didn't get better. Then for some reason I started catching fable streams again. Fable gave me a community that was nothing but welcoming and accepting, and that helped me so much.

In the summer after season 2 I went to my local comic con and cosplayed characters from fable. I accidentally met Daniel on a bus while wearing my Sherbet merch (which then was told to Sherbet and they talked about it on stream, that was wild). I wrote fan fiction (that I never posted but that's okay).

I've been the most involved in season 3. I've shed many tears, I've yelled at my screen (mostly at icarus) I've started playing Minecraft myself, I've met content creators I highly admire, I've found a huge part of myself.

I've been through all 3 of the sherbathons. 3 whole years of angst and joy on fable. All of the sherbverse lore. All the huge CMV's and amazing cutscenes. All the emotions that came with every character.

I can't say everything I feel with this post, every wonderful experience I've had. But know that in me saying this I have nowhere near enough words to describe my gratitude.

So I just want to say thank you. To all of the cast, the artists, the voice actors, the songwriters, and of course the community for making fable what it is today.

-Lunar (ignore all of my probably terrible grammar and spelling)