milf lowkey
She loved him like a son
james potter
‘say yes’ by elliott smith
i feel like james doesn’t really listen to music that much, more so just pick out a few songs that sirius and remus like and just go with it. remus loves elliott smith (despite his more ‘grunge’ music taste) so he would play a lot of his songs when he’s alone or just chilling out.
james would hear this song and be like “UMMM THIS IS SO ME CORE” and he’d listen to it on repeat for WEEKS.
remus lupin
‘my iron lung’ by radiohead
this mother fucker is a radiohead stan. remus is the radiohead bf sirius is his blur gf.
he loves a little guitar riff and then absolutely nonsensical breakdowns in the middle of the chorus 👍
also i feel like he just relates to the teen angst vibe of it. he listens to it when he’s upset that he’s a queer werewolf from care home. so HIS ‘iron lung’ in that sense would be he queerness and his upbringing, or maybe even sirius at some points.
sirius black
‘beetlebum’ by blur
one thing abt sirius is that he only listens to brit-rock or 2000’s pop punk bangers with explicit sexual innuendos. they just hit!
he’s an early p!atd stan btw. soz.
and a deftones boy. cringe!
but he really likes blur!! he listens to it for hours at a time. he just LOVES the chorus soooo much. it’s a bit basic but he likes it.
lily evans
‘velvet ring’ by big thief
i feel like lily is a folk fan above all other genres of music. obviously she loves fleetwood mac, taylor swift, etc… but her loyalties lie with the cluttered, wordy and intimate lyricism of artists like big thief, clario and sidney gish.
lily listens to this specific song whenever she feel nostalgic or when she’s got growing pains. it kinda grounds her. she’s the type of person who gets so fixated on the past or what her futures gonna look like, so she channels those feelings into reflection instead. she finds a lot big thief’s songs do just that :)
marlene mckinnon
‘debris’ by lowertown
marlene loves indie girl music!! she loves messy vocals and melancholic chord progressions, so she lovesss lowertown.
this song is basically the verbalisation of how she feels other people would treat her if she finally opened up. she feels deeply attacked by the lyrics lol xx
mary mcdonald
‘this is what makes us girls’ by lana del rey
this mf loves lana del rey more than anything. she is a dark feminine born to die giant falsies dark pink french tips and ices mocha latte typa girlie.
this song just makes her feel so powerful and so connected to her friends!! she thinks it’s just so her. she also feels like her attractiveness is one of her best qualities (which isn’t true she’s literally the funniest and kindest girl at hogwarts) and one of her only strengths and she HATES FEELING THAT WAY… so when she listens to lana she’s like ‘mmm she’s so mother! she gets me!!!’
she knows she’s a pretty girl with a group of pretty girl friends and she loves it!!!!
regulus black
‘you’re on your own kid’ by taylor swift
ok regulus is not a tswizzle fan by any means.
but pandora likes her and forced him to listen to a few of her favourite songs. when this song came on he was like “… ok wtf 😧 she’s so me”
all of the lyrics just ATE in his mind. he relates to every lyric PAINFULLY SO.
pandora
‘whatever’ by elliott smith
pandora listens to literally every type of music ever.
she likes phoebe bridgers and found out about elliott smith though her, and heard this song and was like “elliott smith wrote this song about reggie and i xx”
they’re best friends! they are literally the bestest of friends. such a pure friendship.
all of them :)
‘spring’ by angel olsen
bro you’ve gotta listen to this song. it’s like evil crack.
🍁☕
im actually losing my mind because of this damn song
luke castellan x reader
based on this request !!
★ “mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back”
ABOUT - luke castellan lovingly pissing off his girlfriend while she’s reading
WARNINGS - luke being annoying in a cute way
you’re alone in your cabin in the early afternoon, enjoying the silence that comes after your half-siblings leave to join in on camp activities for the day. you lay on your stomach with your back towards the ceiling, quietly reading a jane austen novel.
peace and quiet was a rare occurrence at camp half-blood- a rare occurrence that you consistently took advantage of. wether it be sneaking luke into your empty cabin during cold winter nights, exploiting the absence of the rest of your siblings as they go home for the year, or simply spending days reading for hours undisturbed.
so here you are, basking in the quiet of your cabin as you read peacefully. your elbows prop up your torso as you flip through the pages, letting your legs move idly.
suddenly, you hear the door to your cabin open with a loud creak. you whip your head around, only to find your loving, gentle boyfriend standing in the doorway. you watch him as he closes the door behind him.
“hey, princess,” he says breathily, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. you nod softly, before turning your attention back to your book.
luke sits down at the end of your bed, watching you read in silence for a moment. sadly, luke is one of the most energetic and social people you have ever met, so you brace yourself for whatever he’ll say or do next- knowing the serenity of your afternoon will soon vanish.
“what’re you reading?” he asks quietly, before laying down next to you with his back sinking into your mattress. he turns his head to look at you, resting his hands on top of his stomach.
you turn a page, eyes locked on your book as you respond. “emma, by jane austen,” you say quietly. he nods, quiet giggles escaping his mouth. “of course you are.”
you both lay like this for a few minutes, luke trying not to disturb your peace and quiet. but watching you look so focused on your book, laying on your stomach with your hair cascading down your body- you looked too gorgeous to be left alone.
luke was starting to feel jealous of the fucking book, especially the way you’re holding it so delicately.
luke adjusts his position on your bed, turning to lay on his stomach with his head still facing towards yours. his body is pressed against the mattress lazily, but his hands are less relaxed. he moves his hand towards your arm, softly caressing the bare skin that was holding up your book.
“you okay?” you mumble quietly, still looking only at your book.
“mhm…” he nods, moving his head to lay on your shoulder. he reads the page, letting his body move much closer to yours. you giggle as he tilting his head down to kiss your neck, your cheeks turning pink.
he wraps an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. he lets his head lay back down on the mattress as he begins to press soft kisses on the side of your torso.
you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a flustered smile. “luke, i’m trying to read…” you whine, finally turning your head to face him.
“i know, i know.” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead, taking advantage of the way your head is turned towards his.
you sigh, closing your book and placing it neatly onto your bedside table. he pouts at you as he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. you laugh quietly, wrapping your arm around his back as you bury your head in his chest. he kisses the top of your head as he softly rubs the side of your waist from under your shirt.
you groan quietly, shaking your head. “so needy…”
lol i cried
feign - jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 348 - 14 September
“Don’t feign innocence, you prat, I know you took it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?!” James whispered, looking slightly panicked. He had been sitting across from Regulus in the library, pretending to study. He couldn’t let the younger boy know that he had been pining over him for the past two months. How could he? Regulus was his best friends’ little brother for crying out loud.
But sitting in the library, next to the massive window, late afternoon sun bathing black curls in golden light. The look of concentration plastered on his face. The slight stain of ink on his fingertips. The little fist pump and smile that only he could see when he remembered a fact correctly. James was enamoured.
Now as Regulus pulled him up out of his chair, his steel-grey eyes scoured the older boy. James felt only slightly less enamoured and maybe a hint of a fire starting in his stomach. “I know you took it, Potter,” Regulus accused.
“I promise I have no idea what you’re talking about. Swear.”
“My journal! That’s probably why you’ve been hanging around. Sirius put you up to it, didn’t he?”
Regulus’ hands started patting James down. Fingers exploring his muscular abdomen, trailing down to his thighs to feel his pockets.
“Reg,” James said breathily, almost letting a soft moan escape his lips.
Regulus faltered, looking James in the face. His eyes darted toward the brown-skinned boy’s lips. It was only a second but James noticed it. James' gaze darkened, the want that had been building up over the months spilled to the surface.
Regulus cleared his throat violently. Blinking, he backed away as though burnt.
“James,” he shook his head, “Potter, stay out of my stuff!” He didn’t bother to pack his bag, just grabbed what was on the desk and exited the library.
Stumbling into the nearest classroom, slamming the door, Regulus pulled his journal out of his pocket. “You have got to find a better method of getting Potter’s attention,” he said to himself. Pulling out a pen to recount what just happened.
this broke me and put me together
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. ]
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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
part two NOW 💳💳💳
☆ PARENT TRAP
in which, a plan is devised to set the two of you up (1.9k)
contains: luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. baby percabeth (they are 12). percys pov. loser older brother luke castellan 🔛🔝
kashaf’s note: i think we can tell i love my music references by now. (answering requests soon!)
i. remember the time - michael jackson
PERCY HAS ALWAYS liked afternoons: sitting on the green couch in his apartment, the smell of his favorite blue cookies wafting through the air, and the constantly running episodes of gilmore girls on the tv — that you had convinced him to give a try — and sometimes the addition of grover, who was prone to start passionate tirades on climate change.
though after summer camp, his relatively quiet afternoons now included at least two mentions of “seaweed brain” and two of “wise girl”.
percy’s trying to stay focused on rory freaking out over thanking dean for something (annabeth is almost laser-focused), but the doorbell rang a while ago, and you still haven’t returned.
“annabeth,” he whispered, to no avail — he guessed dean really had that effect on people. he tried again, waving a hand in front of her face. she blinked twice before being lifted from the spell of gilmore girls.
“what?” annabeth asked.
“who’s at the door?”
annabeth’s eyebrows rose. she turned around, looking past where you were still holding the door open, one hand animatedly gesticulating, the other still on the doorknob.
“that’s my brother,” annabeth said, turning back to look at percy.
but percy isn’t paying attention to her right now, instead, he’s focusing on the bits of conversation audible between you and this stranger, who’s smiling very peculiarly down at you.
“— no way, me too,” the stranger is saying, grinning.
you’re saying, “deadass? prove it —”
“— are you always so skeptical —”
percy gets up off the couch, annabeth beside him, striding over to you and the stranger, who, for a reason he can’t quite put a finger on, seems weird.
“hi,” percy says, looking at you, pointedly ignoring the stranger. you and the stranger seem to freeze, your hand halting mid-tuck of your hair behind your ear, something percy has only seen you do around one of your ex-boyfriends.
“hi,” annabeth says, looking at the stranger, who smiles in response. again, weird.
“ready to go?” the stranger asks, “or are you going to take over their spare bedroom?”
“luke, you’re not funny,” annabeth grumbles, but she doesn’t look that put out by luke’s teasing percy notes.
you’re smiling, but you’re not looking at annabeth. you’re looking at luke, your one hand still on the doorknob. interesting.
“you’ve got your yankees cap?” you confirm as annabeth laces up her converse, as you and luke are engaged in a tiny conversation of your own. percy wordlessly hands the worn-out cap to annabeth once she’s finished, saying his goodbye.
once annabeth and her brother are long gone and you’re no longer leaning against the door, you’re still smiling widely, and percy wonders why.
ii. shoop - salt n pepa
gilmore girls is on again, and luke is here to pick up annabeth. again. but for whatever reason, annabeth still hasn’t left, and you and luke are sitting in the kitchen, alone, conversing loudly.
annabeth isn’t as hyper-focused on dean and rory’s argument as percy had thought she would be a week ago — he assumed that dean’s appeal died the minute he got mad in that banged-up car. annabeth is saying something about architecture, eyes shining, though he’s not sure which one she’s talking about, hagia sophia or st. basil’s cathedral. your loud laugh seems to ring from the kitchen every minute or so, and well since you’ve begun babysitting him, he can’t say the sound is unfamiliar, but the frequency is suspicious. he doesn’t trust luke.
“annabeth,” he says, when she’s stopped talking.
“percy,” she responds in the same tone, her smile bright.
“how long has your brother been in the kitchen for?” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but missing the mark horrifically.
annabeth looks at the watch on her wrist, “woah —”
“what does woah mean?” percy knows he’s being impolite, and his mom taught him to never interrupt people, but he can’t help it at this moment.
“i was just getting to that, seaweed brain,” annabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “we were supposed to leave an hour and half ago.”
this was bizarre. “no offense, but what does my babysitter and your brother even have in common to be talking nonstop for an hour and half?”
“no idea,” annabeth says, thoughtfully. “is she in a band? luke’s in a band.”
“no,” percy says, but he thinks he remembers your last boyfriend being in a band. “is your brother a senior?”
“yeah — does she do boxing? luke does.”
“i actually don’t know,” percy pauses, “i think we should see for ourselves,” he stands up.
“wait,” annabeth says, “they might go quiet if they see we’re around. let’s just turn off the tv and eavesdrop.”
percy grins, annabeth was such a genius, “you got it, wise girl.”
they’re both so silent, he wonders if you’ll notice, but with the way you’re laughing again, borderline giggling, actually — which is odd — as you say, “shut up, you know what i meant,” he doesn’t think you’ll realize.
“erm, actually i don’t,” luke says, nasally (in what percy hopes is mockery).
percy looks at annabeth, who rolls her eyes at him and mouths, ‘he’s being ironic’. percy stares at the patterns in the carpet, and annabeth stares at the picture of percy and his mom hung on the wall, as they continue to strain their ears — which isn’t hard because of how noisy you and luke are together.
“you’re so insufferable.”
“and you’re the one who invited me in, so.”
“i was being nice,” you sound like you’re protesting, but percy and annabeth note the amusement in your voice with another shared glance.
“you? nice? let’s be forreal.”
“i’m literally not even mean.”
“you literally are.”
annabeth peeks at him, and percy thinks he’s had enough of listening to this conversation, which is quickly becoming weird. and mushy. he can practically see how you’re looking at luke, and how he’s looking at you, which is not at all something he wants to imagine.
he nods at annabeth, and they both try to make their footsteps as loud as possible when they start approaching the kitchen, just in case.
he’s grateful to every higher being out there when he and annabeth find you and luke in the kitchen simply sitting next to each other, no funny business involved.
iii. doo wop (that thing) - ms. lauryn hill
you’re on the phone, giggling. annabeth is over again, and there’s no luke in sight, but percy suspects he’s on the other end of the line.
percy sighs and turns to annabeth, who always seems to know what to do because this little situation has gotten unbelievably out of hand.
“is that your brother on the phone?”
annabeth’s concentration on the teetering jenga tower on the coffee table lingers, doo wop (that thing) playing on the tv in the background, “yeah, i think so.”
“how do you know?” percy asks, watching annabeth carefully choose a jenga block to remove.
“they like each other,” annabeth says, looking at him, as if it’s as obvious as grass being green.
“no, they don’t,” percy pauses for a minute when annabeth raises her eyebrows at him. “how do you know?”
“luke’s always calling her at home,” annabeth said, “and he made her a mixtape.”
“that doesn’t mean they like each other, that just means he likes her,” percy points out, crossing his arms.
they hear you giggle in the kitchen again. annabeth looks at him as if that proves her point.
annabeth blinks, her face lighting up, “oh my god, percy, we should set them up.”
percy stares at her. he can’t deny that for as long as he’s known annabeth, she’s seldom been wrong, but he doesn’t think this is the best idea. but, percy trusts annabeth, so he agrees.
iv. this is how we do it - montell jordan
percy’s spying on you. well, he doesn’t consider it to be spying exactly, he’s just making sure nothing happens to you because despite annabeth’s constant defense of her brother, percy still doesn’t trust luke. percy’s always thought of you more than just his babysitter, after all the attempts at making blue hot chocolate and the comforting after nightmares, you’ve turned into his sister.
he’s at annabeth’s place now, and both of them decided to put their — what annabeth swears is fool-proof — plan into action. step number one: getting luke to invite you inside when you come to pick him up (which was so unbelievably easy, considering how luke has perpetual heart eyes when you’re around).
currently, you’re in the kitchen with luke (the two of you are always congregating in kitchens for some reason), and annabeth decided that she and percy absolutely had to keep an eye on the two of you.
you’re gasping, “luke castellan, you are such a liar.”
luke is laughing, “no i’m not.” his cheeks are red.
you’ve seemed to notice this, and percy can see your gaze soften as you look at luke, but that doesn’t stop you from making your point, “no, oh my god, you call me the mean one but here you are, talking shit about your rivals, just because they’re better?”
percy has seen you argue with your ex-boyfriends, but not like this — not bright-eyed, and smiling, and none of them have been able to just flow the way you seem to with luke. this is it, he thinks, annabeth was completely and utterly right (as she is 90% of the time).
“you take that back right now, those motley crue knockoffs aren’t better than us,” luke says, sounding kind of angry, but percy can see his smile.
“you’re totally bugging,” you say, “what’s wrong with motley crue?”
luke looks scandalized, and almost as if he’s pleading, he says, “please tell me you’ve at least listened to guns n roses,” pushing his hands together in a namaste position.
“i don’t live under a rock, castellan,” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing his hands down. annabeth shares a look with percy.
“i mean, you never know,” he says, and you scoff, shoving him.
percy raises his eyebrows at annabeth, and she seems to know exactly what he’s thinking — time to put step two into action: set up a going-out idea.
percy and annabeth pretend to walk closer to the kitchen, to give the two of you time to spring apart, because you and luke weren’t a very pg distance right now — maybe pg-thirteen, but percy wasn’t supposed to be watching those, so.
annabeth jerks a finger at percy, as you and luke looked up at their arrival, addressing luke, “percy doesn’t believe that your band actually plays in public.”
percy’s head whips toward annabeth, trying not to glare at her, because the look on luke’s face right now was not at all amusing, but at least you were smiling, so you’d definitely stop luke from killing him.
“yeah, luke,” you say, smirking, “where do you guys even play?”
luke frowns, “the usual but we’re playing at the fair next week if you’re so interested.” the last part is aimed at percy, but their plan is going well so far, so percy doesn’t think he’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight.
“when?” you ask, interested.
percy watches luke turn to you, surprised. “saturday — why, you wanna come?”
“yeah,” you admit easily.
percy looks at annabeth, who’s smiling and percy can’t help but feel proud of their idea.
“really? we don’t go on until like seven though.”
“yeah, someone has to be there to cheer for you so you don’t feel too bad when no one else does,” you grin.
luke turns to you, masking his smile with a fake air of irritation, “gee, thanks.”
“what are friends for?”
percy shares a disappointed glance with annabeth who begins to shake her head, as luke’s smile freezes in place, and you suddenly look extremely remorseful.
time to come up with a new plan.
© ughmiyuki on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
marauders band au marauder band au marauders band au
i am so good at backgrounds 🥹🫶 /j
……me next week when luke turns evil