I Love Trans Boy Regulus Headcanons But There’s Something Inside Of Me That Violently Screams ‘all

the sun ⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

ECLIPSE - PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO

luke castellan x child of dionysus reader

ABOUT - you come clean to luke over a bottle of wine as you stare at the sky.

A/N - part two!! this is written from the readers perspective this time :P might write the prologue sooner or later idk

WARNINGS - alcohol consumption, kissing, crying, swearing i think?? but idk i don’t remember

two hours later, and you and luke were staring at the lake as you sat together, the bottle of wine now half full.

the other few demigods that came along now were either swimming, or too drunk to stand, or talking amongst themselves.

you didn’t expect to be sitting with luke alone; nor did you expect the conversation to be so fun.

but then again, you didn’t care if the conversation was good or not. you wouldn’t even care if he was calling you names or simply ignoring you.

you had learnt that to love is to make sacrifices, and you had 4 years of first-hand experience.

the air was relaxed and easy, and the conversation was interesting. the fact that your rival was sitting right next to you, sharing a bottle of wine, felt surreal.

luke said something stupid and light hearted as you giggled quietly, taking another swig of the bottle. your breathing slowed down a bit as you turned to look at him.

“are you feeling tipsy yet, castellan?” you asked quietly, the moon hitting the side of your face in the most angelic way.

your hair was almost as bright as the starts at this point- your lips stained red due to the pigment of the wine and the irritation caused by drinking from the bottle.

“tipsy?” he scoffed, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. “even if i am, no way am i admitting it to you.”

the warm breeze blew through your hair, the moon’s light bouncing right off of it and illuminating the area. he stared at you as you sat next to him, your eyes wide open as you stared out at the lake.

you looked magical.

“you really are beautiful.”

your head turned to face him, your lips slightly parting in shock at the abrupt compliment.

‘luke castellan said i was beautiful?!’

you felt your breath hitch, your cheeks turning red- but you couldn’t tell if that was from the alcohol or from his compliment.

“yeah, you’re tipsy,” you whispered playfully in an attempt to brush off the comment.

you sighed, ruffling your hand through his hair before taking the bottle from him.

“shut up,” luke scoffed, looking away from you in embarrassment.

you laughed dryly, leaning your back against the grass and staring up at the stars.

“no, i wont shut up,” you argued, a big smile on your face.

“castellan said i was beautiful!” you exclaimed breathily, giggling quietly as you kicked your feet against the grass.

the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk for a moment. “i really hate you, you know that?” he laughed, taking another swig.

“besides, no one will believe you,” he teased, nudging you playfully.

you shook your head, pressing an index finger against your lip as you made a ‘shh’ sound.

“i’m not going to tell anyone. your words are gonna be my little secret,” you whispered, looking up at him as he continued drinking from the wine bottle.

even under the moonlight, he still shone like the sun.

‘i guess that’s why luke and i clashed. he was the sun, and i was the moon.’

“you’re going to drive me insane,” luke mumbled, passing you the bottle of wine.

was he blushing? his cheeks were certainly more red than before, and he couldn’t maintain eye contact with you anymore.

you retracted your finger from your lips, letting out a dry chuckle.

you sat back up, grasping the bottle of wine and taking a large swig.

“yeah, what do you expect? my dads the god of insanity, castellan,” you retorted playfully, a smug smile plastered across your face.

you were the moon and he was the sun- it was a simple yet poetic description of their long, complicated rivalry. maybe if you were a bit more sober, you could come up with a less stereotypical comparison. but you were not sober, so the moon and sun it was.

you were his rival, but it was starting to feel like something more. the banter between you two was becoming more romantic, the tension more evident. or maybe it was all just in your head.

luke chuckled as you took another big swig from the bottle of wine, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

it felt like everything you wanted for the past 4 years was finally happening.

you put down the bottle, looking out at the reflection of the moon twinkling on the lake as you took a deep breath in.

“do you ever see something and think ‘oh, that’s me’?” you asked, suddenly turning around to look at him.

luke was caught off guard by your sudden question, pursing his lips as he turned to look at you.

his brows faintly rose as he watched the moonlight gleam off of your eyes, hair, and lips. “what do you mean?” he asked softly. luke’s eyes darted to yours briefly, only to go back to looking at the moonlight as it hit the lake.

you looked back over at the moon, feeling a strange sense of comfort overcome your being.

“it’s like… i’m the moon. i am her,” you said.

“but i’m also the arctic fox, and the glow in the dark star stickers castor stuck on the roof of the dionysus cabin, and the tulips and the lily of the valley and- it’s like…” you mumbled, pressing your fingers against your lips as you let yourself get lost in thought.

“like i’m made of all these little things i see and feel close to.”

luke’s eyes burnt into yours as you spoke, taking in ever word you uttered. you would’ve forgotten he was even there if it weren’t for the sound of him breathing.

“and what am I?” he finally spoke, his voice soft as he leaned forward to look more closely at you. the moonlight casted a glow on your face as the breeze blew your hair away from your eyes. it felt so natural to be here with him, in the dark, with the moon.

you smiled at him coyly, your cheeks red and your vision a little warped from the alcohol. you took another swig, thinking over his question.

you passed him the bottle, your fingers grazing against his momentarily as you stared at his face intently.

“you’re the dandelions. you’re the orange slices, the quiet dog sitting by the window,” i said quietly, taking in his features.

“you’re the sun.”

he paused. it looked like he had just been punched in the gut, overwhelmed by the sudden sentiment.

luke looked away suddenly, blinking quickly as his jaw clenched tight. he took one deep breath, and turned to look at you again.

“that’s bullshit, and you know it,” he snorted. it seemed like the alcohol had made him a little too confident. you furrowed you brows in response, crossing his arms as you waited for an explanation.

how could he not look in the mirror and be blinded by the sight of himself?

“look at me. i’m no sun. i’ve got all these scars and bruises all over me, i’m too destructive.”

he rolled his eyes, looking down at the grass defeatedly.

you shrugged your shoulders, taking another swig of the bottle.

“yeah, but you’re the sun,” you repeat blankly, a soft smile still on your face.

“you’re the sun; scars and all. too hot too touch, too bright to ignore.”

luke froze at your words.

he shifted uncomfortably as he felt his hands shake. your eyes took in his stressed appearance, feeling a little embarrassed at your sudden outburst of praise.

luke was embarrassed by how much his body was betraying him. for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to say whatever witty response would get under your skin. he was completely at a loss for words- and you could tell.

but either way, you decided to play nice.

you paused, staying completely silent. suddenly, you started giggling, shaking your head awkwardly in an effort to make him feel less uncomfortable.

“sorry about that. i just realised how stupid that sounded,” you chuckled, looking back over at the moon.

luke looked a mess. his cheeks burned red, and his heart pounded faster and faster.

“shut up,” he growled. “you’re going to make me act weird.”

you turned your head away from the moon to look back over at him, your eyes narrowing in confusion.

“huh?” you furrowed your brows, taking the last sip from the bottle.

“you already act weird,” you teased, gently pushing his shoulder playfully.

you playful push and the feel of you touching him suddenly made any rational thoughts of his go completely out the window.

“okay, but this is different,” he grumbled, leaning his back against the cold earth and closing his eyes, his breath even and steady. “you’re making this weird.”

you pouted, laying down on the ground next to him. your head was inches away from his, your hair grazing his face as it messily fell over the grass.

his face turned towards yours as you stared up at the stars, thinking over his statement.

“how?” you asked, your speech a little slurred.

“just…” he sighed, looking up at the sky. “it’s not that complicated. i’m your rival. we’re not meant to be…like this.”

luke paused, looking back over at you for a second. he thought you looked so pretty with the moonlight casting beams of light on your face. he could’ve looked at you like this for hours.

you rolled your eyes, staring up at the sky.

“are we even rivals anymore?” you asked, resting your hands on top of your tummy.

“i mean, we used to be when we we like… 15. but we’re 18 now, and things are definitely different. less hostile,” you said, breathing quietly.

“fine, we’re not as vicious as we used to be. but it’s still a rivalry. you’re too competitive.”

you stayed quiet, processing his words.

he was right. you were too competitive.

that’s why it would never work between you and him- but it was also why it did work.

your stubbornness and his attitude fuelled the ongoing rivalry between you two for years, the only thing that ever weakened the conflict was time.

time wore you two down as you matured, replacing foul insults with witty comebacks and substituting sarcastic compliments with genuine praise.

but it was still a rivalry.

he leaned towards you suddenly, opting to change the subject with a teasing comment. he lightly tapped your forehead. “you’re drunk.”

you giggled, rolling your eyes as you playfully pushed his hand away.

“no, you’re drunk- look!” you abruptly cut yourself off, gasping at the sky.

“it’s the little dipper,” you exclaimed breathily.

it had been years since you had seen the constellation; considering camp half-blood was only protected from new yorks monsters, and not new york’s light pollution.

luke glanced up at the sky, blinking as he saw the constellation.

“yeah,” he grinned as he looked back down at you. “i’m just surprised you can tell in this state of mind.”

luke chuckled as he looked into your eyes. they had a dull shine to them- they looked tired. his lips twitched into a playful smirk as you shrugged your shoulders.

you smiled softly as you turned your head to look at him- a few stray pieces of grass in your hair.

“maybe it’s ’cause when i drink i get all observant and shit,” you said simply.

your eyes darted over to scar on the right side of his face. it had been there for years, but you never seemed to get tired of looking at it.

it was like a river- or a permanent teardrop stain. and it was gorgeous.

luke watched you with a smug grin as you stared at his scar, noticing how much you seemed to adore the sight.

“yeah,” he smirked. “you get so observant that you start talking about me being like the sun.”

you rolled your eyes, letting out a dry breath as you looked into his eyes.

“you’re not like the sun, you are the sun.”

you slowly reached your hand out to touch his scar, your thumb tracing over the shape as your lips slightly parted.

you definitely would’ve never done something like this sober.

he didn’t fight against the warm gesture, his cheeks turning red as his brown eyes widened at the sensation. your touch was soft, and his skin was so smooth.

maybe he loved you back? maybe all that sacrifice and competition wasn’t for nothing?

the desire to come clean was suffocating you. you needed to say it- he needed to know.

you cupped his face in your hands, the alcohol putting you in a trance.

‘sober me is gonna really regret inviting luke to drink with her.’

you continued rubbing your thumb over his scar, looking into his eyes.

“luke,” you whispered, getting lost in his features as you laid still on the grass.

“i’ve loved you since we were 15.”

he was dumbfounded by her sudden confession. your heart continued pounding so loudly that you could no longer hear the quiet sound of his own heartbeat.

“… you don’t have to say anything,” you said softly, continuing to stare into his eyes.

“but i just wanted you to know.”

you slowly retracted your hand from his cheek, turning over to lay on your back again and stare at the stars.

luke stared at you blankly, his lips parted in shock as he realised what you said.

the silence was killing you, forcing you to come to terms with the reality of the situation.

he was quiet for a reason, wasn’t he?

“you don’t love me,” he said softly. “you’re drunk.”

you shook your head, your eyes fluttering closed as a soft smile emerged from your features.

“no, i do love you,” you whispered, reaffirming the drunken confession.

his hands gripped his arms tightly, trying not to let you see how much your words were shaking him up.

“if you love me so much, then why do you constantly challenge and compete with me?”

you shrugged your shoulders at his question, opening your eyes and looking back over at him.

“it’s the only was i can get your attention, i guess.”

you and luke had always competed with each other- it was no wonder the competitiveness evolved into a rivalry. you just wanted his attention, and he wanted yours. you both wanted to so desperately be seen by the other, and neither of you would admit it.

a deep sigh left his lips as he thought, closing his eyes to try and make sense of things.

“well, you’ve got my attention now,” he murmured.

you laughed dryly at his comment.

“yeah. i do,” you sighed, your chest rising and falling with each slow breath you took.

‘he doesn’t love you, idiot! why’d you have to say that? now he’s not gonna give you any attention, because it’s gonna be awkward!’

“anyways,” you mumbled, looking back up at the sky. he pursed his lips as he watched you, furrowing his brows at the sight of his rival all defeated and wistful.

“why won’t you look at me?” luke’s voice was soft, pleading; begging you to see him.

you sighed, continuing to stare up at the sky defiantly.

“i already know what you look like. spent so long staring at your face, i don’t need to look at you,” you explained breathily, letting your head sink further back against the grass.

“… and i don’t think i want to see how you look right now. i’d like to imagine you all happy instead.”

his eyes widened and his jaw unclenched at her words. you were content with staring at the stars, not even acknowledging what he said.

“please, look at me. look at me when you speak to me.”

his words were firm, but emphatic enough to cause you to give in.

you rolled your eyes, letting out a quiet sigh before turning to face him.

“i’m looking.”

luke stared into your eyes, his body frozen as he watched your breath rise and fall. it seemed like he had no clue what to say.

you sighed, your eyes gazing over at his features.

seconds passed that felt like hours, your thoughts racing as you lost yourself in his pretty eyes.

‘you’ve fucked it. it’s ruined. it’s done!’

‘gods, i’m never drinking again. sorry dad.’

you suddenly closed your eyes, letting your hands cover your face as you turned on your side- bringing your legs up to your chest as you let your hair protect yourself from everything that was going on.

you suddenly let out a quiet sniffle, muffled by the way you were hiding yourself in your limbs.

luke’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the sight, his thoughts blanking as he heard you… crying?

he had never seen you cry before, unless you were acting with the apollo kids, or trying to garner sympathy, or foolishly trying to make your dad feel bad for yelling at you for sneaking out.

your palms became a little wet as you cried softly, trying your best to fight back against your emotions.

“sorry, i don’t know why i’m crying,” you whispered.

“i don’t know what i expected either.”

you quickly wiped away your tears, looking back up at him. “pretend i didn’t say anything,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse.

you heard luke sit up and scoot over to you. suddenly, you felt him gently wipe his fingers under your eyes.

“your eyes are a little red,” he murmured, letting his fingers trail down your cheeks.

you groaned in response, your cheeks turning red as he wiped away your tears.

“obviously,” you sighed, choking back more tears as you closed your eyes again.

your nose was red and damp, your eyes bloodshot. your breaths were short and sharp as you continued fighting your feelings. but it was a loosing battle.

luke let his fingers trail your jaw, then your neck. this only caused your to cry harder, the feeling of his fingers against your skin only reminding you of what you do desperately want but can’t have.

“luke…” you whimpered, opening your eyes to look back up at him.

“shh…calm down,” he said softly, his fingers beginning to trail her lips. luke’s breathing became erratic as he leaned in, closing his eyes and grazing his lips against yours.

he suddenly pressed his lips forcefully against yours, his arms wrapped around you as he held you close against his chest. your back lifted off the grass, willingly leaning your chest against his as you kissed him back.

you could hear the sound of his breath picking up as he deepened the kiss.

you brought your hand up to cradle the back of his neck, holding a handful of his hair between your fingers.

your fingers twisted into your hair, his mouth becoming more demanding with love and need and longing, and everything else he’d felt towards you.

your other hand reached up to caress his scar, running your thumb over the permanent imperfection.

but it wasn’t imperfect; it was beautiful.

your breathing slowed down as your tears became silent, your body melting into his as the kiss continued.

he slowly dragged his lips away from yours, kissing the side of your neck as he held his hands against your back to keep your torso upright.

you sniffled as he kissed your neck, your arm wrapping around him as you held him close.

he finally pulled away, taking a deep breath and looking at your flushed features. you were still holding onto him tightly, your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

your eyes were still closed as a tear slid down your cheeks. luke wiped it away gently, causing you to slowly open your eyes again.

“luke,” you whispered, your eyes silently pleading with him as your pupils dilated.

“please, luke. i need to hear you say it.”

luke paused, letting the request linger in the air for a bit. his breath hitched as he looked into your red and wet eyes, his thumb gently tracing your cheek.

"say what?" he whispered, their eyes locked as they sat there in the grass. he was shaking, and you could tell.

“tell me you love me too. even if it’s a lie,” you whispered, gently running your hand through his hair as you looked into his eyes.

his lips touched yours again, quickly kissing you before slowly pulling away.

“I need you. I will always need you,” luke said- but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

your breath hitched, your eyes threatening to cause a flood.

“… but do you *love* me?” you asked, your lips slightly parted as you searched for any sign of affection or love within his deep brown eyes.

his breath came out of his lungs harshly as his eyes widened. he stayed silent for a moment as he looked at you.

“yes,” he whispered. “i do.”

“say it,” you demanded, sniffling as you rested your forehead against his.

“say it. say it, please,” you begged him, your hands clinging to his shirt in a desperate attempt to convince him to love you back. “say that you love me- all of it.”

he smiled softly before leaning in towards you, the action of you pulling on hos shirt revealing his collarbones.

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

luke’s hands gently gripped your waist as he spoke, his eyes locked with yours.

you turned red, your breathy shaky as you pulled him in for an urgent kiss. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer than before.

‘jesus christ, if my dad saw me now…’

actually, he might be proud. dionysus is the god of wine, insanity and fertility first and foremost. and hes my dad more than he is the camp director.

luke kissed you back, pressing his body against yours and letting his hands slide to grasp onto your hips.

you ran your hand through his hair, your fingers racing circles into his neck as you kissed him frantically.

your lips were probably swollen at this point, and you didn’t mind paying the consequences for having luke be so close to you.

luke’s hands glided up your body, his fingers grazing over your skin. his hand went to hold your back, pulling you even tighter against him.

he kissed you harder, more intensely, his mouth devouring yours.

you could hear his breath hitch with every kiss.

you moaned softly into the mouth, your limbs tangling as you searched for more. more of the feeling of his body against yours, more of the warmth of his hands against your skin. more, more, more.

you continued kissing him for what felt like hours, before slowly pulling away- now a panting mess with red cheeks and swollen lips. you stared into his eyes, your lips slightly parted in shock.

and he did that to you. he stared down at your lips, almost as if he felt proud of what he had done.

your swollen and red lips were like a trophy. you had won- he loves you.

luke licked his lips, savouring the taste of you before speaking. “gods, your lips are red,” he said, kissing your cheeks.

you laughed nervously, overly flustered by how softly he was kissing your cheeks.

“shut up, so are yours,” you retorted, wiping your mouth- but the red was imprinted upon your lips and it most definitely was not coming off anytime soon.

luke couldn’t help but find himself laughing at your mannerisms. the way you nervously wiped your lips as if the redness would come off with a single swipe of your fingers.

you sat in silence for a moment, simply staring into his eyes with a bashful smile. you had him. he had you.

and he was so bright.

even when sitting under the dark night sky, the sun was shining- burning your skin. and you were basking in it.

you’d let yourself get their degree burns if it meant you got to feel the sun against your skin.

it did not take two days. it took less than 5 hours.

guys i have the best outline for a luke x reader fic. give me two days and 60mg vyvanse and it’ll be done

pining...... so much pining.........

i need to kiss his forehead, smooth out his furrowed brows, tell him it's gonna be ok, play with his hair, caress his face, wipe his tears away, tuck him into bed, have him take a nice warm shower, use face masks on him, make hermes pay, take him to therapy, make him lunches, enroll him into college with me, bandage his wounds, compliment his arms, reassure him his scar isn't ugly, introduce him to taylor swift and boy genius, read him bedtime stories, bake brownies with him, visit his mother with him, prove the prophecy wrong, tell him he's doing great sweetie, get him away from kronos, fight kronos, help him mend things with annabeth, hold him close while he vents, encourage him to explore other hobbies, be his support system

lumon's department sizes are so funny. "how many people do we need to refine some super important data?" uhhhh four i guess. at most. "what about the company marching band?" fuck ur so right. we need a company marching band with like fifty people. this is of prime importance to the lumon mission.

Ok, first, hello.

Second, I just read your post, hunter x reader imagines (enemies to lovers), and I must say I love it, I love the way you portray Hunter.

Therefore, I would like to request (if you are accepting requests) something about Hunter epilogue, I don't know what you could come up with, I'll leave it in your hands

hii!!!!

i’d love to but sadly i’m not in the owl house fandom any more and don’t remember anything abt the show 😭

also i wrote those fics when i was a minor n i’d feel uncomfortable writing for someone who is 15? 16? idk i forgot guys sorry 🔥

Remus: We all have our demons.

James, grabbing regulus: This one’s mine!

this broke me and put me together

⋆· ༘* love, every summertime !

pairing ★ jock!luke castellan x drum major!reader

synopsis ★ the one where you start over. or, a montage playing in the heat waves. (4.7k)

content ★ no reader pronouns, luke pov for finale chapter lfggg!!, long-distance relationship moments, silly silly teens, so much fluff it will make u sick to the stomach

notes ★ wc went crazy for the end of an era omagosh.... ily all so dearly, ty for making iss17 so very fun for me <3

series masterlist

Luke might be high, or something.

Except, he’s never gotten high before because he’s an athlete, and of course that’s bad in general for his health.

But you’re laying on his bed, back pressed into the mattress, arms stretched to hold his phone above your face, in a tank top because the heat’s starting to make the both of you woozy, so.

Maybe it’s the summer’s stifle getting to him. Even with his back pressed against the cold wall of his room, he can feel it—the oppressive lick of a heat wave settling over the city.

The spiral of the ceiling fan has already gone lazy, the sound of the blades’ chut-chutting petering out to a lame beat.

You tap your index finger against the back of his phone in the same rhythm, keeping time. A chime, half-flourishing and all-congratulatory, and you give a winning smile.

( Luke’s been looking for your smiles a lot, actually. There’s something in the sharp flash of your canines that make the vessels in his chest grow taut. )

“New streak,” you cut short some syllables and draw the others long; he knows you’re smug about beating his win streak. “I think I’m better at this than y—ack!”

The device slips loose from your hands and lands flat on your face. Luke doesn’t dare laugh aloud as he watches you process with your hands still frozen midair, but the way his body shakes the bed is telling.

You kick him with his phone still stuck to your nose. “Asshole.”

“Oh no, I must beg your forgiveness,” he croaks like an old, wizened man. Gandalf maybe, who knows—who cares, Luke’s picking his phone off your face and flopping down with an arm slung over you.

It’s too hot to share body heat, yea, but he’s Luke Castellan. Don’t care is his middle name.

“I’ll stop watching the GPs if you don’t.”

Oh, how scary.

“My poor baby,” Luke’s cooing out the term of endearment, pecking all over your face like a sap. He guesses he must be a maple tree then, syrupy-sweet. “Gravity got you bad, huh? Maybe we should go to space together and never have to worry about dropping your phone.”

You get your palm on his face, holding him and his mouth away. “Let me know if there are aliens on your solo trip to the asteroid belt.”

“That’s rude.”

“Okay?”

The moment you let your hand fall away, he’s hunting that spot of skin along the juncture of your neck that he knows is sensitive, attacking with his mouth and blowing a raspberry.

You squeak, thrash, jab your fingers under his jaw—ah fuck, now he’s the one squirming around, tearing up ‘cause why did he ever think it wise to tell you where he’s most ticklish?

“Stop,” Luke gasps into your neck, words stuttering as he hiccups his last giggles, “stop, I surrender.”

You pull your fingers away and he finds himself missing your touch already, no matter how mercilessly you’d tickled him.

Sun yellowed, careworn. An unmade bed and laying over blankets that should’ve been put away last season. Luke likes you like this, edges soft under the afternoon rays and sweat sticky on your temples.

Well, he likes you like this and likes you like that and just. Likes you whenever, wherever.

Yea, he just likes you. Totally casual, not that deep—you’ll probably drift apart come fall, when you separate for college. You raise a brow at his staring, pupils stretching, mouth just past ajar.

( The shape of you has long been carved into his bones. )

Okay, maybe he likes you a lot more than that, to the point where he hopes you don’t mind video calling too much.

♫ TV Girl ・ Taking What’s Not Yours

[ IMAGE: a snapshot taken in the reflection of a rearview mirror of a truck. Four teens sit in the vehicle—Luke at the wheel, you in shotgun, and Charles and Silena in the back. Charles holds up his hands in a ‘hang loose’ gesture, and Silena is laughing jubilantly. Luke is rolling his eyes. ]

Liked by beckydwarf, luvvbeaus and 264 others

majmajmaj snr ditch be everyday post-grad

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beckydwarf had me thinkin we got school tmrw 😭

↳ majmajmaj u praying for september to come quick huh

lukestellans 🩵

↳ travstole NASTAYYY ↳ conmanstole ig he found sm1 to match his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

Life on the road is scarce.

The only movement Luke can spot is with the tall grass lining the lane of cracked asphalt, lit by the twilight. He’s pulled over under the shadow of an apple tree and already Silena, Charles, and you are hounding him to unlock the doors of his dad’s pickup.

“Open up!”

You pull at the collar of your shirt. “Why’s it so hot in here…”

“My dad hasn’t fixed the AC.”

Charles, bewildered, “Why couldn’t he fix the AC?”

“He’s a lazy ass.”

Silena slaps the flat of her palm against the window. “Lucas Castellan, unlock the doors!”

“The fuck, my name’s just Luke?”

The locks pop open with a resounding snick, the cheerleader being the first to dart out and grab the things in the truck bed.

( Luke doesn’t doubt that she’s taking the first pick of soda for herself. )

He’s unbuckling and striding around the front in a blur, fast enough to beat you to the punch. Luke snags the handle and opens the door for you, all princely and angelic.

You give him a look that says—if he’s reading it correctly and not being delusional—free kisses when Charles and Silena are too preoccupied with staring into each other’s eyes.

He ends up being right. While the other couple are stargazing in the meadow, you sneak back to the cracked, curbless road, you climbing into the passenger seat and Luke begging to let him straddle you.

Kissing comes easy now, almost second nature. He knows that you like it slower, his hands balling in your shirt and yours at his waist.

Luke also knows that you go crazy when he has to tilt back to yank off his foggy glasses, because when he does, you dive back in and mumble a breathless fuck against his lips, which in turn drives him insane, so he grips the front of your shirt harder which in turn drives…well.

You get the idea.

Though it’s starting to get dark out—crickets starting choirs and all—Luke’s senses are still hyper-alert, soaking in every trace of you against him.

He’s about halfway down the trail he’s planning to blaze along the line of your throat when Silena coughs. Alright, maybe he isn’t as alert as he thinks he is.

“I think it’s time to go back,” she says, eyebrows raised and hand on hip and all.

“Uh,” Luke fixes his hair and tries to slide off your lap, but you’ve got your traitorous fingers hooked in his belt loops, “where’s Beckendorf?”

Right on time, the big drum major parts the tall grass with his…back? Charles moonwalks to the door, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone; he’s got his head in his hands too, wearing a veil of disappointment.

Charles groans, “I hate both of you.”

“Raise your hand if you’ve ever been personally victimized by Luke and major?” Silena suggests, and her boyfriend’s arm shoots up immediately.

“Right,” you cough, “sorry.”

That doesn’t stop you from drumming your fingers on Luke’s thigh—while he’s driving in the dark! A true show of restraint as—Charles and Silena slump against each other in their sleep.

TO: monza baby

(15:32) did u know percabeth works here or (15:32) they r staring at me w beady ass eyes scary asfff 😨

FROM: monza baby

(15:34) NOWHERE in this town is safe istg 😭😭

“Need another sample?”

Percy’s grin is all too wide, teeth gleaming under the bright lights in the yogurt shop. He’s got his eyes curved into joyful crescents, but his creepy little irises still manage to peer out.

Annabeth stands behind him, a similar expression on her face, just without the creepy eyes. She holds out a small cup, paper gone flimsy between her fingers.

Little shits.

Luke takes the sample cup with a ginger hand and steps back cautiously to join you by the dispenser wall.

“Little shits,” he mumbles, craning his neck so that his mouth meets the shell of your ear. “How’d they both manage to score a job here?”

( It’s not like it’s hard to get a job at the yogurt shop. Luke got his first paycheck here, just before sophomore year; that summer, the heat had been suffocating, and on top of that, the AC was broken.

He doesn’t know if you remember it, but you came in with your friends during the deadest hour of the day. At high noon, with the aircon broken, the yogurt came out in spurts of watery mush. You tipped him nonetheless. )

You laugh softly, mulling over your options. Strawberry, plain tart, mango, etc. Luke doesn’t really care which one he’ll taste on your lips later.

“Short staffed, probably,” you tell him. “Or maybe they said they were from Kane Academy. Everyone knows that Mr. Boreas hates kids from ZC.”

“Honestly, his beef with the staff is insane,” he says, pulling down one of the levers.

A gentle hum permeates the cool, quiet atmosphere as the yogurt—solid this time, not like a few years ago with the broken AC—slides easily into his sample cup.

You lean over, tongue scooping over the top of the sample. “Didn’t you work here? I swear I remember you in that stupid apron.”

Luke’s raising the cup up to his mouth when you say that. He coughs, “Uh, just for a week or so. Needed money to buy my sports gear.”

“Right, ‘cause your dad didn’t want to pay unless it was for track or cross.”

“Yep.”

“Man, he’s a shitty guy. I’m honestly glad to be free from Heralds.”

Sudden, “I thought you said you liked it.”

Luke pivots to face Annabeth. She gazes up at the two of you with wide doe eyes, innocent and completely innocuous.

As if Luke doesn’t know how much of a gremlin she really is.

You shrug at her, eyes narrowing at the fact that she and Percy have been eavesdropping. “It’s mid as hell, I just couldn’t say so since I was the editor. Join yearbook instead, the cameras are way nicer.”

Luke jerks his head back. “Nah, yearbook was ass. Nobody knew anyone’s names—like, half the pictures are unlabeled or just wrong.”

Annabeth stares for a still moment, processing. Percy is looking over from behind the register, straining over the counter with his feet hanging off the floor.

The girl laughs, lips peeling away from her teeth, eyes squeezing shut with her hands on her stomach and all. Luke looks at Percy—the boy’s jaw has gone slack, eyebrows rising, blinking slowly like he can’t believe it.

Percy Jackson is fucking starstruck through the goddamn heart for the kid Luke has considered a sister since forever. You’re laughing with her too—a smear of yogurt stark on your bottom lip, mouth tilting in that crooked grin he’s learned to love.

Maybe it’s not that bad, after all. Luke looks at you like that too, even though he’ll never admit it.

lukestellans posted a story ・ 3h

[ IMAGE: a candid photo of you standing bleary in front of a TV with a bowl of popcorn in hand, dressed in an old sleep shirt and basketball shorts. You’re facing away from the camera and gazing at the screen which has zoomed in on the F1 Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc. He is wearing his helmet with the visor flipped up, eyes shining as he looks at something offscreen. The caption in the lower right-hand corner reads: mr steal ur bae. ]

majmajmaj replied to your story:

AND WHO WAS RHE ONE WAKING ME UP AT 6 AM TO PARTICIPATE IN HIS FORZA FERRARI RITUAL !!!

luvvbeaus replied to your story:

AS IF UR NOT THE SAME. GOOFY AHH MF 💀

You peer at him with your eyes at half-mast over the slope of your bicep, where the sleeve of your sleep shirt has ridden up.

“If you kiss me right now, we’re breaking up.”

Over the course of the night, you’ve buried yourself deeper into his bed—stomach to the mattress, one arm slung over a throw from the couch, another wrapped around a head pillow. The singular, thin sheet has long been kicked off, and his ceiling fan is at full blast to ease the heat, if only vaguely.

It’s about half past six in the morning; sun just beginning to wake, crickets disbanding choirs. And Luke, in all his stale, sleepy glory, goes whaaaaaat. You level him with a look, eyes going narrow and nose wrinkling.

( Your eyelashes have crust clinging to the roots, and maybe there’s a spot of dry saliva on your cheek. Luke think it’s the cutest you’ve ever been. )

Emphatic, “I’m serious. No liplocks with morning breath.”

He sinks back into his pillows with a discontented hum, hopes that you can hear his eyes rolling around in their sockets. “You’re so mean.”

“Brush your teeth first.”

Luke responds only with his knee, wrapping around the back of your own. The action pulls you closer, chilled skin on chilled skin—well, his skin isn’t ever chill near you. He just hopes the sun hasn’t gone too high to shine light on the warmth blooming in his cheeks.

Your sleep shirt is all rumpled. Sclera tinging with the barest, bloodshot red. Gaze unfocused, blinks slow and breaths even slower.

“I thought you said the race started around noon,” you murmur, words eddying with each rotation of the fan; nearly lost to the same old, lame chut-chut of its blades. “‘S too early, yea?”

Even quieter than you, “But we gotta get the snacks out and give some to Saint Leclerc.”

Luke watches your eyes rove, landing on the A4-size cutout of the Ferrari driver’s face pasted over the image of a saint. It watches over the frame of his door, left noticeably open to appease his parents—well, his mom more than his dad.

( He just printed it out to be funny. He doesn’t really have a Ferrari shrine, though he has a whole shelf dedicated to mini Mercedes models. )

Your gaze returns, more alert and awake, and you tilt your hand slightly forward to wrap one of his curls around your finger. It sends something racing up his spine in a tingle.

“Are the two religions of Italy really the Catholic Church and Ferrari?”

Luke’s laugh is muffled by his pillow. “Maybe.”

♫ Djo ・ Roddy

[ IMAGE: a living room in the late morning. The afternoon has just risen, curls of sunlight streaming in through the shuttered blinds while the rest of the space is lit by a TV screen. It is showing the live broadcast of a race. Luke is leaning forward on the couch, elbows on knees, head in hands, and very clearly distressed. ]

Liked by anniebethc, luvvbeaus, and 127 others

majmajmaj anw who’s that guy in orange…?

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lukestellans not bothering to steer u away when my forzas cant even ferrari

↳ luvvbeaus so if i said that max is a hottie u wont kill me right ↳ lukestellans but he is?? ↳ perciusjakcsn ^ WOAHH WAIT A DAM MINUTE 🫵🤨

Halfway through the race, in the middle of a yellow flag that’ll definitely turn into a safety car, Luke takes a glance at you.

The screen is reflecting in your eyes, glassy and all-enthralling. He watches a race car fly across your pupils, traces the track winding around the circumference of your irises.

Luke thinks about Saint Leclerc guarding his door. Could he grant the wish where you’ll still be here—settled into the couch with a half-eaten bowl of popcorn in your lap, eyes glued to the drivers taking a chicane—next summer?

FROM: monza baby

(9 mo) when r u loading up

TO: monza baby

(9 mo) alr packed (9 mo) leaving next week n miss u already 😞

FROM: monza baby

(8 mo) u up?? its like 3 am here

TO: monza baby

(8 mo) ots 5 here GO TO SLEEP

FROM: monza baby

(8 mo) damn not even a good night

TO: monza baby

(8 mo) its actually good morning but wtvr

[ video call from suzuka boy… ]

TO: monza baby

(7 mo) u comin home for winter break?? (7 mo) jst booked a flight back next week 😁

FROM: monza baby

(7 mo) break started early LMAOO alr back in town

TO: monza baby

(7 mo) LFG NEW YEARS KISS !!!

TO: monza baby

(7 mo) bad news 😞

He coos at the blurry you on the screen. The wi-fi here back in his dorm is ass, and the audio gets jumbled more often than not, but at least he can see most of the details of you. Still, he’d prefer it if he could see you in person.

You look like you might be in bed, covers pulled up to your neck; it’s hard to know that only a while ago, you’d been sleeping with the summer sheets, cottons soft and breathable.

Now, Luke would give anything to burrow under a thick blanket with you.

“Sorry, baby,” Luke sighs, laying his head on his desk. Outside, there’s a storm raging in the dark, rattling the windows. “Nothing’s going right. Flight cancelled, everything’s all booked until after break. Can’t even give you your first New Year’s kiss in person.”

“‘S—…ine,” you say. “It’s—…etter to be safe than—…orry.”

“Yea.” Luke lets a soft laugh escape his throat. It comes out choked. “Just miss you, is all.”

You smile, the edges of your mouth pixelating on his screen. “Me too. What time—…over there?”

Luke knows that you know; you have a clock with his time zone on your phone, and he yours. But you ask anyway, because being able to hear his voice when you aren’t half-asleep on your textbooks is a blessing in itself.

“Almost midnight.”

Somewhere on the far-off horizon, Luke can hear the distant pop of premature fireworks. It takes his thoughts by the hand to last spring, in that little Ferris wheel car—everything had been so easy then, with all the muddled carnival lights and sugar-rushed highs.

If time would allow it, he’d go back again and kiss you right there at the apex of the Ferris in all its gently lit glory; maybe that way, you’d have more memory of being together than apart like this. But as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder…so.

You make a sound akin to a laugh, and upon hearing it, Luke feels like his sternum might crack. “We just fin—…dinner here. Maybe we—…blow a kiss over—…phone?”

( Even now, sleepy with a full stomach, you’re always coming up with the ideas that make him question his own senses—why didn’t he think of that before? Not that he minds being the brawn to your brains, even though it’s reversed half the time. Distanced or not, Luke’s always going to be fond of you. )

He can feel his eyelids start lowering to half-mast and his mouth make the barest, upwards tilt; watching the feed of himself at the top corner of the call, he’s almost taken aback by how smitten he looks.

“It’s 11:59 now.” A pause, and he just basks in the sound of your soft, bated inhales. Maybe if he closes his eyes, he can imagine that you’re sleeping in the same bed, knees hooked around each other and fingers knotted together. “Thirty seconds to midnight, baby.”

It passes in a haze.

We should count together.

‘Kay.

20—…18, 17, 16, 15—…12, 11, 9—wait, that’s not right.

He laughs softly, continues: 8, 7, 6.

You say the last numbers—5, 4, 3, 2, 1—together, and there’s a silent off-beat because you fumbled and skipped 10. He laughs again, and you’re with him, and then there’s fireworks and cheers from the other kids who couldn’t make it home.

Happy New Year, Luke.

Where my kiss at?

( The first words of the year, and he’s asking for a kiss already. )

Luke turns his face to the side, pointing at his cheek with an absurd exaggeration. He hears you pucker and blow a kiss, pretends that you’re really here and putting your lips to his; when he looks back at his phone, you’re looking at him with those half-lidded, hazy eyes—the kind where he can almost see the hearts lining your pupils.

And to make it fair, because he’s always been nothing but fair for you, Luke stays on call until it’s midnight at home to send his kiss bouncing along the satellites and wishing you a happy new year.

( And many more. )

FROM: monza baby

(6 mo) happy vals !! ur honestly the best bf like idk where id be if the Prom Incident did not happen

TO: monza baby

(6 mo) happy vals! and im literally ur first and only bf so far

FROM: monza baby

(6 mo) !!! (6 mo) AND YK WHAT WE SHOULD KEEP IT THAT WAY 😁

TO: monza baby

(6 mo) OH STOPPP IM BLUSHING

FROM: monza baby

(6 mo) ur never beating the babygirl allegations i just know u kicking ur feet

TO: monza baby

(6 mo) WHO TOLD U THAT 😨

FROM: monza baby

(5 mo) so abt spring break (5 mo) the cancelled flight curse struck ME this time

TO: monza baby

(5 mo) HUH WHAT

FROM: monza baby

(5 mo) long story short, parents abroad, flight cancelled, cant come back bc i dont have a key (5 mo) but srsly i rlly miss u like why does this always happen…. 😔😔

TO: monza baby

(5 mo) next time next time,,, miss u too 💔 (5 mo) my mom’s crying in her head rn bc she had all the musubi stuff ready for u

FROM: monza baby

(5 mo) NOOOO tell may im so sorry and give her a hug! u better eat all that spam on call i need to live thru u vicariously 😭😭

FROM: monza baby

(3 mo) happy birthday to the best guy around (ig??)

TO: monza baby

(3 mo) turning a blind eye to the last part LMOAOAO (3 mo) but thank you, ur literally the best ever ily 🩵

FROM: monza baby

(3 mo) woah think i just passed out hi…. ily2

TO: monza baby

(3 mo) have u ever regretted choosing ur major bc engineering uhhhh (3 mo) [ GIF: a crying emoji with its hands up, disintegrating ]

FROM: monza baby

(3 mo) glad u asked bc the answer is EVERY FUCKING DAYY 💀

FROM: monza baby

(2 mo) and if i said anniversary then what !!

TO: monza baby

(2 mo) I WAS ABT TO TEXT THAT HEY

FROM: monza baby

(19:00) wya the games starting (19:00) first time i see u in 9 months and we r lost already 😭😭

TO: monza baby

(19:01) wdym “we r lost” its just u (19:01) im in the stands close to band,, if u see percy then he’s next to me (19:01) THE SIDE EYE HE IS GIVING ME ITS LETHAL SEND HELP RN!!!!!!

It’s just a midsummer practice game on home turf, but Luke knows his team’s been grinding to make it possible.

Well, it’s not even his team anymore, but he still feels responsible for that rowdy group of kids in that stinky locker room next to the sports medicine classroom. Maybe that’s why he dropped twenty dollars—ten dollars per ticket, just to see an unofficial match!—so he could finally see you in person again.

It’s just practice for everyone—band camp requires at least one live practice, so the newer kids are shuffling around the back, instruments unsure in their hands as the boys who just made varsity jog in place to shake off their jitters.

( You both have only seen games from the field and never the stands. He remembers that first touchdown at the beginning of senior year, remembers looking back to the bleachers and spotting you in uniform; brows tight, arms crossed, haloed in the floodlights. He thinks he might have fallen in love with you there. )

Nine months. Four quarters, two semesters, a couple breaks; none of which you’d spent together. Luke can’t expect you to be the same; hell, he’s changed during his freshman year in uni.

Annabeth and Percy would be juniors come September. Travis graduated, and so did Ethan and Sherman and Alice; Connor is drum major, Michael Yew is the captain of the football team, and the memory of you and Luke only lives with the upperclassmen. The freshmen don’t even know who you are.

It’s a cold comfort.

Luke doesn’t even hear the whistle go off to signal another play, because he finds that your touch is sliding between the gaps of his hands, warmth bleeding into his side.

The stands rise in time for some kid’s touchdown—and that’s Jason Grace catching the ball in the endzone! What a stunning play, he transferred from Jupiter High and he’s already scoring so well for Zeus City—but it doesn’t really matter.

He can’t hear any of it; the screams, the band playing the fight song, the cheerleaders going Z! C! H! S!

All he knows is your fingers knotted in his, you with your crooked and tilted grin, you sitting next to him and waving hi to Percy in the drum section and Annabeth with the flutes and flipping off Connor with his silly baton.

( You. )

Luke squeezes your hand, a heartbeat rhythm. “Hi, major.”

You hold him just as tight, and he has to take a breath because his chest feels full and ready to burst. “Hey, Castellan. Miss me?”

Fuck yes, he does. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder—not that he’ll admit it openly, but if the two of you weren’t somewhere with a lot of eyes, he’d be having a repeat of the Prom Incident.

But you’re here in the bleachers, not in uniform and just a bit older, more mature than you were when he last saw you, and honestly, Luke wouldn’t have it any other way.

Zeus City High School Varsity Football isn’t his team anymore. Luke doesn’t go to this school, he hasn’t been in the area for months. But when you stay sitting as everyone else stands to cheer, leaning closer until your soft breaths brush his cheek and he lets you press a chaste kiss to his mouth—it feels like homecoming.

♫ Ariana Grande ・ Daydreamin’

[ IMAGE: a snapshot of you and Luke sitting together on the bleachers while everyone else is standing in the moment. Luke has his varsity jacket in his lap, facing away from the cameraman, head tilted to wholly give you his attention; you are wearing a shirt with the names of everyone in marching band and looking at him with your mouth just past ajar, saying something with a small grin. ]

Liked by majmajmaj, perciusjakcsn and 273 others

conmanstole so sick they got me pulling out ARIANA

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majmajmaj I MAY BE RETIRED BUT NO PHONES ONTHE FIELD TFFFF !!!

↳ conmanstole IF U SNITCH I SWEAR

beckydwarf ariana is a queen wdym #CONNORSTOLLNOTMYDRUMMAJOR 🙄

↳ lukestellans #CONNORSTOLLNOTMYDRUMMAJOR vs #CASTELLANSUCKSASS who will win....

perciusjakcsn ?? @.anniebethc

↳ anniebethc Yogurt shop. Tomorrow, after practice. ↳ perciusjakcsn !!!!!!

p.s. ★ full circle!! boy what a journey.....challenged myself to not get teary but the moment i wrote "it feels like homecoming" i just lost it,, begging for ygs to share ur feedback, i love watching ppl scream and go crazy w me <33

sharing is caring, please reblog & interact ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ᡣ𐭩

luke tags; @melllinaa @amortencjja @arsonnaire @ma1dita @m00ng4z3r @ishouldbepushindaisies @witch-lemon @ahh-chickens @spiderbeam @jennapancake @traumatrios @omg--bluexx @dangelnleif @apolloscastellan @hiraethavis @lukecastellandefender @bookshelfminstrel @cherr-y-eji @solangelotus @liviessun @thaliagracesgf @ddarling-ddearest-ddead @l1a-pjosversion

© klineinie 2024 :: do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or use ANY works to train ai

you once told me that the best movies are never ‘good’

that movies you hate are the movies that are simply better than others.

when you showed me your favourite movie, i told you that i thought it was good.

and it was objectively good.

couldn’t it just be good?

but it didn’t matter that the movie was good or bad or that it was maybe just ‘ok’.

what mattered was that i had contradicted you.

you expected me to remember everything you said, memorise every rule and regulations you had set.

but i couldn’t remember every law that fell from your lips.

i couldn’t fathom every thought that you told me to think.

and now we’re sitting on your couch in silence, watching the credits roll.

the movie was good. and i’m sorry that it was.

STOP LIKING MY POSTS! i am scared