#year of luke

[alexversenaberrie]

Returning...

[eldritch-ace]

May the fourth be with you!!! 💫✨

[samstree]

R2-D2's favoritism towards Anakin is so funny like, he's canonically the most foul-mouthed, ill-tempered, grump old cat-coded droid. The cute appearance is only an illusion to lure you in just so he can tase you, and maybe also kick you from behind just because he wants to. Even the disney princess Obi-Wan loved by all animals on first sight doesn't get along with R2. But he just. likes. Anakin. He's the wingman, he's emotional support, he's a good helper in battle. He carries snacks and checks if Anakin is hungry. He looks at this also ill-tempered angsty goth kid and said, yep that's my bff. Meanwhile Anakin goes around saying things like R2 is such a sweetheart 😌he's a little angel he's literally the best buddy anyone could ask for and I will risk my life to save him. Everyone else just looks like the demon droid and be like what the fuck are you talking about.

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

Actually I really like that Percy is Thalia's look-alike in the books with their matching black hair and green eyes and the ichor of such powerful gods running through their veins and their mirrored personalities. I like that Annabeth and Luke both looked at Percy and saw Thalia and I love thinking about what a sucker punch Percy must have felt like to the both of them.

[ixxyart]

I'll be what you fucking need,

[syndullahera]

STAR WARS: EPISODE V - THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK (1980) -dir. Irvin Kershner

[noodles-and-tea]

Kids table

[v4mp1rete3th]

[whirlpool-blogs]

Ellen: I’m nervous right now.

Jack: Why?

Ellen: I don’t know, I’m not even getting drafted.

Jack: Hey. It’s gonna be great. We’re not dying, we’re gonna be okay.

[onyxstorms]

I surrender.

↳requested by @afirewiel

[sunsburns]

summer road trip with luke castellan (16+, implied sex)

it starts with a promise.

made late at night, in the kind of hazy space between sleep and dreaming, when the world feels quiet and nothing’s quite real yet. you’re lying side by side on a roof somewhere—one of those abandoned places luke likes to sneak into. the stars are barely visible, city lights bleeding up into the sky, but you’re not really looking at the stars anyway.

“we should do it,” he says, breathless from laughter after a dumb joke he barely managed to get out. “just take off one day. no plans. no schedules. just you, me, and the open road.”

you laugh into the sleeve of your hoodie. “okay, cowboy.”

“i’m serious.” he props himself up on his elbows. “we’ll make playlists. stay in janky motels. get gas station snacks that’ll probably kill us. it’ll be perfect.”

you hum, eyes fluttering shut. “we’re always saying ‘one day.’ you ever think about making it this day?”

he doesn’t say anything for a long second.

then, “i’ll steal a car.”

you snort. “please don’t steal a car.”

“fine. borrow one.” he nudges your arm. “c’mon. you know you want this.”

you do. gods, you really do.

and maybe that’s why two weeks later you’re throwing a duffel bag in the backseat of an old car luke somehow managed to “legally” obtain (you don’t ask too many questions), a worn paper map stuffed into the glove compartment, and three half-charged burner phones just in case.

you don’t even pick a destination. that’s the point.

it’s about the drive.

the first few days are the best kind of disorganized. you get hopelessly turned around trying to get out of the city, miss your turn like, four times, and end up on some weird detour through a town that seems stuck in the 1950s. you eat breakfast-for-dinner at a diner with cracked red booths and a waitress who calls you both “sweethearts.” luke leaves a doodle on a napkin and tucks it into the jukebox.

the road stretches ahead like a ribbon of possibility, glittering under the sun. the heat blurs the horizon, making everything shimmer like a mirage, and the sky is that kind of obnoxiously perfect blue that feels more like a postcard than real life.

the a.c. in the car gave up somewhere around three days ago, so the windows are rolled down, warm air rushing in and tangling your hair, sticking your shirt to your back. it doesn’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.

you've got one foot propped on the dash and a half-melted slushie wedged into the cupholder, condensation dripping down the sides. the map—the one you swore you didn’t need, and luke insisted you bring anyway—flutters against your knee every time the wind hits just right. it’s already creased and stained, with corners starting to curl. neither of you are really using it.

a cd clicks softly in the stereo, and a hazy guitar riff spills out—something easy, something old. the kind of music that makes you feel like you’re in a movie.

you hum to the songs you know, watching the scenery blur past in golden smears of light and heat.

luke’s driving one-handed, the other resting lazily out the window, fingers tapping against the door in time with the beat. sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose, and there’s a sunburn blooming along the edge of his jaw that he keeps forgetting to take care of. he looks over at you, grinning.

“you’re gonna fly out the window if you lean any further.”

“worth it,” you say, hair whipping across your face. “this breeze is all that’s keeping me alive right now.”

he chuckles, reaching over to tug the map from your lap. “you’re the one who said we didn’t need to stop for sunscreen. or, y’know, ice.”

“and you’re the one who didn’t want to stop for directions,” you shoot back, watching him squint at the map like it personally offended him. “so now we’re two thirsty idiots lost somewhere between nowhere and hell.”

“romantic,” he says, tossing the map into the backseat. “just the way i like it.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s affectionate. always is with him.

the wind smells like dust and wildflowers, and every few miles, you pass a road sign faded by time and sun. one of them promises a lake in twenty minutes which probably is not true. the next, a diner with the “best pie in the state.” you don’t stop for either. maybe the next one.

you were supposed to take turns driving. that was the deal—fifty-fifty, no arguments. but luke, being luke, never sticks to the plan. he always insists he’s fine, even when you catch his eyes fluttering shut at a red light, head tilting slightly like he’s about to nod off right then and there.

“i literally saw you close your eyes for five seconds,” you say when he pulls into a gas station, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he parks.

“it was just five seconds,” he groans.

“five seconds away from crashing,” you mutter, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “move over.”

he sighs, dragging himself out from behind the wheel with all the theatrics of someone who’s definitely not fine, even if he still insists otherwise. he grumbles under his breath as he slides into the passenger seat—and is completely passed out the second his head hits the window. no “i’m not even tired,” no “just resting my eyes.” just out cold. mouth open, snoring, even drooling a little.

you drive comfortably after that. there’s less tension on your shoulders now that you’re the one in control, and luke’s quiet snoring is oddly comforting.

he stirs sometime later, sleep-warm and rumpled, his voice still thick with it when he reaches across the console. his hand finds yours with ease, like it’s muscle memory. his fingers slot between yours and, without a word, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. soft. slow. like a thank-you.

somewhere between a cracked-out diner with the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had and a pit stop at a quiet national park, you start feeling it—that warm, slow burn that only summer with luke castellan can bring.

it’s in the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. it’s in the casual brush of his thumb over the back of your hand. it’s in the way he steals bites of your food, complains about the heat, and still tucks a cold bottle of water into your hands without being asked.

he’s quiet during the hikes, but he always slows down so you don’t fall behind, even when you insist you’re fine. he keeps snacks in his pockets for you, things he knows you like, things you didn’t even notice him buying. and when you sit beside him on the edge of a cliff, watching the sun drip like honey into the horizon, he kisses your shoulder so gently it sends goosebumps across your skin.

he takes so many pictures of you. most of the time you don’t even notice until he shows you later—sun-drenched, wind-tousled, blurry with motion but sharp with love. he says he wants to remember you like this. you laugh and roll your eyes, but still smile a little too hard when you see them.

you two stop at a few motels every now and then. they were nothing special. peeling paint, flickering neon sign half-buzzed out, and a questionable stain or two on the carpet—but it’s cheap, and it’s got just enough charm to feel like part of the story. luke leans against the counter while you check in, tapping the bell repeatedly until you swat at him.

the old woman behind the desk gives you a room key and a knowing smirk like she’s seen a thousand versions of you two before: sunburnt, road-weary, eyes too bright to be anything but in love.

sometimes, impulses get the best of the two of you. like when one day luke spots a faded little hand-painted sign pointing down an overgrown path off the side of the highway. beach access. there’s no one around. no cars. just the sound of cicadas and wind through tall grass.

you both follow it on instinct, barefoot and laughing, racing toward the sound of crashing waves.

and then there it is: a hidden stretch of shoreline tucked between two cliffs, like a secret carved out just for you. no footprints, no noise except for the ocean. the sand’s hot and soft under your feet, the sun dipping low on the horizon and casting everything in amber.

you run straight into the water, still half-dressed, splashing and shrieking when luke dunks you under and then pulls you back up, breathless and dripping. he kisses you then, water-slicked and grinning, hands on your waist like he’s never going to let go.

and later, after you’ve both sprinted back to the car, giddy and dripping wet, after the sand’s stuck to every inch of your skin and the sun’s painted you gold, you end up tangled in the back seat. skin sticky with sweat, your bodies pressed close in the heat of the car, breathing in tandem.

the windows fog up, the air thick with salt and sun and something heavier. the radio hums low, some lazy summer song playing beneath the sounds of your bodies shifting, touching, needing. his hands roam like he’s mapping you out all over again, rough in the way he holds you but gentle in the way he touches, like he knows exactly where to press to make you shiver.

he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the taste of salt on your lips, like he wants to bottle this exact moment and keep it somewhere safe. and you, half-laughing between gasps, fingers twisted in his curls, mumble against his mouth, “i told you the backseat would get too hot.”

“guess we’ll have to open the door,” he says, voice low and teasing. “get a breeze in here.”

you roll your eyes, breathless and flushed. “fuck off, if we get caught by some poor park ranger—”

“worth it,” he grins, before kissing you again. deeper, slower this time.

and when you’re breathless and half-dressed, your back pressed to the warm seat and your body aching in all the best ways, you lie there with your head on his chest. his heartbeat is loud in your ear, steady and real.

you tilt your face up toward him, the fading light painting him in gold. “same time next summer?”

his arm tightens around you, his voice soft and full of something you don’t have a name for yet. “you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

[alexversenaberrie]

“I will not Fight you.”

[ash-short-for-trash]

The fact that both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka think that the other died during order 66 and spend years mourning the other when they both survived is so heartbreaking

[keylimeart]

valentines day is huge for the gay people in my phone

full color for my pookies 🫶

[demigods-posts]

luke fumbling in recruiting percy has to be one of his greatest failures. a beautiful thing the show does regarding luke and percy's relationship is building rapport between them through shared moments like settling into camp, eating meals together, but especially through swordfighting lessons. the swordfighting scene at the beginning of episode 8 not only reveals that percy and luke already share similar beliefs about the fear-based system the gods have cultivated, but it's clear the conversation stays with percy when he fights ares and later calls out zeus on his waning skills as a father and a king. however, luke's plan fell through the moment percy learned that the winged-shoes were meant to drag him to tartarus. not only that, but the shoes nearly killed grover, a friend percy cared for deeply. if nourishing loyalty and trust was the key to ensuring a partnership with percy, then it was luke's faulty planning, arrogance, and impatience that cost him the greatest ally he could ask for.

[bluewolfangel01]

Favorite Parent Challenge with Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, & Satan

(If you don't know, it's basically a challenge to see who the pet's favored human is)

-Lucifer-

Done with Cerberus

Cerberus is very confused when Mc and Lucifer walk in different directions while he stays

Each head looks from left to right, unable to understand what he's supposed to be doing or even who to go to

He begins to whine

Mc gets a bit closer to comfort Cerberus, reaching their hands out to offer pets

Only then does Cerberus decide to move

Lucifer: "I don't think it counts if you bribe him"

Mc: *doing their best to pet all 3 heads* "Well he doesn't seem to mind, do ya boy?"

Cerberus: *tail wagging very fast, looking very happy*

Mc: "If you want, I could give you some pets later tonight~ seeing as you seem a bit jealous."

Lucifer: "Well I'm not jealous, but I'll happily accept your offer."

-Mammon-

Done with a few crows familiars

The crows look between the opposite directions where Mammon and Mc went

The crows stay where they are for a few moments

It almost seems like they'll never move

Then they fly and land at Mc's feet

One crow even lands on Mc's shoulder

Mc proceeds to give the crow that landed on their shoulder, some scratches

Mammon: *walks towards Mc* "They're my familiars, why do they go to ya?!"

Mc: "Aw dont feel so bad, haven't you ever heard that pets copy the personality of their people?"

Mammon: "Yeah. So?"

Mc: "So that means that they only went to me 'cause you love me so much."

Mammon: "Gah... silly human."

Mc: *grabs Mammon's jacket collar* "Tsundere demon." *gives him a smooch*

-Levi-

Done with Henry 2.0

Levi and Mc stand on opposite side of Henry 2.0's tank, rather then walking in different directions

The small fish doesn't swim to either side

He kinda just floats for a moment before lazily swimming around the fish bowl

It's clear that Henry 2.0 doesn't understand the challenge

That or he just doesn't care

Mc: Well, I don't know what we were expecting, but that result seems about right.

Levi: Why did we decide to do this again?

Mc: The new co-op game we've been playing is getting updated so the servers are down and for the memes.

Levi: ...

Levi: For the memes.

-Satan-

Done with a few stray cats

Satan and Mc sit a few feet away from each other outside the H.O.L

They both agreed to have no items or smells that could possibly draw in the cats

They both sit there for awhile while waiting for the strays to show up and pick one of them

Suprise, suprise the strays end up going towards Mc

Satan: "They almost never come to me, it's like they hate me."

Mc: "Aw, don't say that, they don't hate you."

Mc: *Picks up and holds Kuro in front of Satan's face, who meows cutely* "See, Kuro likes you~"

Satan: *smiles and lowers head in defeat* You...~"