Oh This Has A Little Kick To It 🤭😋

me thinking about a vague idea for any piece of writing ever: hmmm. how can I make these characters hate each other so bad they wanna rip the others clothes off.

REGULUS BLACK | HOLD HER PART 2

SUM. : Regulus sees a glimpse of his future with you and it's all he needs to give in

TAGS. : sunshine reader x grump regulus ; regulus is in denial ; pandora lestrange being the ultimate bestie ; james is in denial too ; james is not a shipper ; reader is precious ; regulus finally gives in

LENGTH : 2k

PART 0.5 | PART 1

Today was a shared class in Divination. Regulus doesn’t see much use for the subject, the antithesis of his divination partner and close friend, Pandora Lestrange. She was a whimsical being with curious mannerisms but that was why Regulus found her so refreshing to be around. She points out what isn’t always obvious and never judges anyone for anything. For those traits alone, she’s the only person he’s been able to talk about regarding you. 

After the fiasco at the courtyard following your bogart lesson, it’s become incredibly obvious to Regulus how attached he’s become to you. And vice versa. Over Lupin, you had gone to him for comfort. He was the one to wipe away your tears, he was the one to lovingly pet your hair, he was the one to whisper sweet reassurance into your ear, he was the one who held you tight until your shaking figure calmed and you were no longer sobbing helplessly into his shoulder. 

“You like her,” Pandora had declared, matter-of-factly after the event. He had gone to her, unable to fully articulate his feelings and needed guidance from someone who wasn’t naturally disparaging. “As more than a friend,” Pandora elaborated further when her brief answer didn’t satisfy him, sending the youngest Black brother spiralling. It was a reality he had been actively denying in an attempt to distance himself from you. His family were dangerous people and so were his forced associations – he didn’t want to burden you with that type of peril. 

Ever since that day, owing to his whispers of protection, Regulus avoided you adamantly. It wasn’t easy, however. You didn’t make it easy. Being your precious, cheerful self, you didn’t antagonise him for his sudden distance. Whenever you would catch his eye, you would flash him a smile. It’s as bright and warm as he remembers – you haven’t changed at all in spite of his obvious avoidance. 

“You are conflicted,” Pandora whispers from beside him as the objectives for the lesson are laid out by their divination professor — they were to use their crystal balls to attempt looking into their partner’s future. The procedure follows the same steps as their previous lesson, where they were tasked with looking into each others’ past. There were only a few tweaks that needed considering for future sight so it was simple enough. “There’s no need to distance yourself from someone who brings you such peace, Regulus,” she smiles at him serenely, not a trace of judgement in her eyes as the professor finally allows them to commence their set tasks. 

“It’s for a good reason—”

“You aren’t protecting her,” Pandora takes the lead and begins the ritual as Regulus grumbles opposite her, “You only succeed in denying her and yourself happiness. It’s time to stop, yes?”

Regulus doesn’t want to answer regardless of her truthful observations, “Do you see anything about my future?”

With grace, Pandora allows the change in subject and focuses on her crystal ball. The two of them actively ignore a growing dispute occurring not too far from their table. The pair protests their tasks, questioning the validity of divination and doubling down on their claims of the subject being pointless once the professor makes his way over to interject. Regulus scoffs under his breath, eyeing the duo critically in his peripheral. 

“They’re only trying to divert attention from their own incompetence,” Regulus returns his gaze to Pandora, feeling apologetic over her needing to concentrate twice as hard because of the distracting background noise. 

Pandora hums in agreement but keeps her main focus on the crystal ball until she’s finally able to conjure up a light grey cloud. The achievement steals Regulus’ attention – he’s always been fascinated by his friend’s ability in the subject; she makes the practice more believable to the pale Slytherin and the lessons more interesting to partake in.

“What was that, Black?!” one of the temperamental duo snaps, having heard Regulus’ snide comment. It wasn’t appreciated and the tension in the air suddenly came alive with the heated rage emanating from their combative classmates. But Regulus pays his aggressor no mind; he kept his attention solely on Pandora and the ball, which now swirled with a stormy cloud compared to the previous light grey — it took the concentration of both people to make the task work and Regulus wasn’t going to put his friend’s efforts to waste. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you—!” upset at being ignored so flippantly, the classmate reaches over and pushes their table. 

Suddenly, the crystal ball was flung off its stand, propelled by the forceful jolt and sent crashing to the stone floor. It was a majestic disaster with glass pieces sent flying across the cold stone as the stormy cloud from within the ball was released into the air in a screen of opaque, dark-grey smoke. All attention is on the emitted fumes and gasps can be heard about the room as the cloud begins to create a clear picture, painted in vibrant colours so that all witnesses had no doubts about what they were seeing.

The smoke formed the undeniable image of Regulus, only, this version of him looked a little older. But he had the same elegant nose, perfectly permed hair, steel-grey eyes and sharp features. It was, without question, Regulus. The only difference was his serene smile. It looked natural on this older Regulus’ face, his features appearing to melt into the expression as another figure emerged. 

It was you. 

“Merlin’s beard, is that their future?” Regulus hears a faraway whisper. It grounds him in the realisation that he might be seeing what his life entails with you in the picture. Unable to breathe or move, Regulus continues to watch what plays out before him like a man possessed. Because, maybe this had the answers. He can no longer deny that you were an important person to him. But will that entail withdrawn yearning or a shared warmth? 

Everyone watches as an older version of you appears before Regulus. You look so beautiful, mature and with an elegance that elevates your existing beauty. The way you look at Regulus makes it seem as if he had swiped all your troubles away; your beaming countenance conveys your carefree spirit while your smiling eyes convey a deep devotion to the Regulus you hold your hand up to cup the face of. 

Regulus watches as he leans into your touch, eyes closed and with a peaceful smile on his face. He says something, then you say something and you’re leaning up further so that your noses are touching and your lips are mere centimeters away from each other’s. His heart almost stops beating in his chest at this point. But you take it one step further by tilting your head and pulling the image of him into a deep, heartfelt kiss. Squeals of delight were heard throughout the room, mostly from the girls as the guys quietly gasped, unable to realise that such a contented version of their usually stoic Slytherin classmate could exist. 

It was at that moment that Regulus remembers Pandora’s earlier words: there’s no need to distance yourself from someone who brings you such peace. Regulus finally understands. All this time, he was being selfish. He was selfish by denying his happiness while simultaneously denying your happiness too. It wasn’t his intention but that was what he had been doing and the guilt that pinched at his heart was painful. How could he deny such a cheerful and innocent person something as wonderful as happiness? 

He was ashamed. But as he watched you and his future self embrace each other tightly before pulling away to look into each other’s eyes, something began to tug at the strings of his heart. It was a yearning, a craving, a desperate need to see you and hold you and pull you into a kiss he only plans to deepen and never pull away from.  

Future Regulus has his arms wrapped around your waist as your hands hold his face at either side, your fingers twitching in the temptation to comb through his inky, curled locks. It seemed like forever before you finally pulled away from one another and future Regulus leaned back to flick his wand, accio-ing a bouquet into his hands. 

With fond eyes, Regulus watches your future self’s reaction as if he were the one to bring you the flowers and not the future version of him. He savours the bright smile across your kiss-coloured lips and the little jumps you do. Cute. You always jumped like that to express your cute joy. It’s so incredibly endearing, no wonder his future self was entranced and fully committed to bringing you simple joys over and over again. The edges of the scene begin to fade as the cloud becomes lighter and lighter in colour. Eventually, the vibrant colours of the scene begin to bleach out just as you hold the flowers to your face for a shy smell of the blossoms. The image fully bleeds away just as everyone witnesses future Regulus bring your spare hand up to his lips, where he kisses your knuckles while his chin brushes against your wedding ring. All the while, his own, matching marriage band glistens on his ring finger. 

The class is silent as the professor vanishes the smoke completely and broken glass pieces with a flick of his wand. 

“50 POINTS TO RAVENCLAW AND SLYTHERIN!” everyone is jolted from their frozen states at the booming elation of their divination professor, “Congratulations on a successful future reading Miss Pandora and Mr Black,” he turns to the argumentative student from earlier and remarks somewhat patronisingly, “your pair could learn a thing or two from that,”

The gossip chain was immediately in motion after the class. By the time dinner had arrived for everyone, the entire school was privy to what had happened and Regulus was on the lookout for any indication that you may have heard the news too. 

“WhAT?!” James Potter’s incredulous squawk of disbelief was heard by everyone and Regulus had to bite back a smirk. Trust Potter to make things obvious – if James knows then you know too. “THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! NOOOO!” James’ protesting sobs soon became incoherent as he slumped against the dinner table, those closest to him patting his back as others avoid his theatrics completely, wanting to have a normal dinner for once. Some things were coherent enough such as: ‘corrupted’, ‘married’, ‘please no’, ‘never let it happen’, and ‘not her’. All were expressed in varying degrees of distress and despair, as expected from someone who took it upon himself to adopt you as his baby sister despite the absence of any blood relation. 

For now, Regulus can wait, he can hold his tongue, and he can keep himself from reaching out and pulling you into a long embrace. He had yet to apologise for his pathetic behaviour – what was he thinking distancing himself from you, thinking it would keep you safe when that only leaves the two of you vulnerable and deprived of the future you had the potential to share. 

Looking over, he watches with fond eyes as you comfort James in a vain attempt to distract yourself from the gossip and becoming overly flustered. You’re too precious. He’ll allow himself one full day; he can, at least, keep himself away that long to help you digest what happened. 

Appearing to sense his lingering gaze, you look up and meet his eyes. As predicted, you’re immediately flustered and look away but not without trying to face him again and offer your usual warm smile. It’s as if you’re telling him it’s okay, that you’re okay with what’s happened and what it all means for you. You look adorable, so cute and sweet. Why do you have to look like that and torture him further?!

No… he can’t last a full day. 

He won’t even make it past the hour.  

navi.

A/N : why is it that I’m inspired at the most inconvenient times? I couldn’t go to sleep because I had this scenario stuck in my head until I finally gave up and decided to write it on the spot at 3am. It’s super cute so I hope you darlings like it too hehe~ 

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

beckondorf is soooo european/aus. ‘methinks’??? ‘git’???? ok english boy…

AKSO OMG ONG ONG THIS CHAPTER,??!

⋆· ༘* so american !

pairing ★ jock!luke castellan x drum major!reader

synopsis ★ the one where things start wrapping up too fast. the seasons change, and suddenly everyone knows something that you don’t. (3.4k)

content ★ no reader pronouns, cliches ie PROMM, major actually kinda knows but dismisses it as being delulu, s-tier clownery, will they won’t they? - i think they will !!

notes ★ double take dhruv carried this so hard bless that genius man for making thee song abt falling in love w ur friend

series masterlist

Sports | Castellan flys high into final season, speaks about future

Heralds Vol. 77, Issue 10

[ IMAGE: a shot from a low down-up angle. Castellan’s jersey is black and orange, his surname and jersey number 11 in white block lettering. His back is silhouetted, arms stretched for a spike, the gym lights haloing his outline in a fuzzy white. ]

It’s all thunderous cheers when senior and varsity vice-captain Luke Castellan nails his final spike through the blockade. Zeus City High School played its final game of regionals against Kane Academy—famous for its strong blockers and—won 3-2 last Thursday.

“It’s a really great feeling,” said Castellan. “Spiking through that block was tough, but getting the points is all that matters.”

Castellan is an outside hitter and has been doing sports since he was a child, passing a volleyball to his mom at three. He also participates in football, and capped off his last season with an unprecedented win.

“I’ll definitely miss football,” Castellan commented, and joked that he while he will miss his teammates, he will not miss practicing. “The team spirit was really good, we really had synergy this year. I’m glad that we did our best in the championship, and I hope we do good with volleyball too.”

The team will advance to the state championship, and perhaps junior nationals, where they can fully showcase their athletic abilities to recruiting colleges. Castellan does not plan to attend a higher institute of education on a sports scholarship, citing that he would like to explore other interests.

“I’m gunning for engineering,” he shared. “It’s been an interest of mine since I started watching motorsports, which is like—forever. I’ll still play, but not on a super competitive level because I’d like to focus on my education.”

You aren’t quite sure how you ended up sandwiched between Luke and the door of your locker.

‘Cause the thing is, you’ve got your back facing the open maw of your locker, and Luke’s nearly chest-to-chest with you, saying something about Silena and Charles. Your shoes are side by side, faces hidden by the door.

Your locker is located next to a wall—a lucky assignment for privacy so—to the average passerby, well, it looks like he’s very close to you. Maybe even kissing, although you blink that thought away in a fluster.

“You okay?” Luke asks, touching his knuckles to your forehead. “You look like you’re getting dizzy.”

Becoming ‘friends’—the context of which you use extremely loosely—with Luke comes with some lessons on his character. Lesson one: he enjoys football, likes volleyball, and loves motorsports. Two: he wants to be an engineer and a photographer and also a full-time couch potato gamer-slash-F1 commentator. Three: he’s naturally touchy because him and his mom’s love language is physical touch, and it is a constant of which can never be changed.

( You’d stopped by the Castellan residence every day after school during last semester’s final project for stats. She’d greeted you with a hug each time. )

“I’m fine,” you grit, hands tightening around your dusty textbooks. They’d been in your locker for the entire year, and now you’re about to be late for returns. You take a breath—oh, now his cologne is invading your senses. “I just—uh, I have an appointment at the library for these.”

You lift your books. Luke’s mouth parts in an oh and he steps back, holding his arm out dramatically. “After you.”

You slam the locker shut.

[ IMAGE: two pairs of beat-up sneakers peeking out from under the door of a locker. Luke Castellan is unmistakable, curly hair and tall frame half-obscured, one arm bent to hold the door. The tag on the metal is hard to see, but if you went to the school, you’d know exactly who that locker belonged to. ]

Liked by tankadreww and 715 others

centaurlookout 😮

“You going to prom, major?”

You look at Travis, eyes narrowing. There’s something incredibly off about his question, something suspicious in his too-wide eyes and smile.

You pinch your lips together, regarding him. “Maybe….”

The junior beams, eyes glittering. You squint suspiciously at him with a sidelong glance when he doesn’t leave.

“Need anything else or…?”

Travis shakes his head adamantly, curls bouncing. “Nah, just wondering.”

You nod slowly, drawing out the syllables. “Right.”

“G’day, major.” Travis begins to slink backwards, keeping his eyes on you.

“Uh-huh, yea.”

You recount this to Luke during lunch, gravel crunching under your feet as you walk to one of the fields.

Now that football isn’t in season, the practice field behind the bleachers is empty and overgrown with clovers. You sit in the plush greenery and pick at a blade of grass that still has some remnant of white paint on it.

Luke agrees with you as he unwraps his sandwich. “That’s so weird. I mean, the only interest he’d have in prom—”

“—would be to pull pranks, yea,” you finish, peeling back the plastic of the instant noodles. Luke nods, repositioning himself to lay on his stomach, elbows pressing into the grass. “I dunno, everyone’s been weird now. Percy called me major last week, like actually major and not sarge.”

“Maybe they’re sad that you’re leaving?”

“Nah,” you tell him, uncapping your bottle and pouring water into the noodle cup. “Connor uninvited me to his sixteenth birthday party after I ran him off the platform in Smash. I thought it was a joke until I showed up and he slammed the door on my face.”

Luke grimaces mid-swallow, mouth twisting. “Wait,” he says, propping himself higher on his elbows. The sun’s barely out, hidden behind a wall of grey clouds that shouldn’t even be there because it’s mid-May. “Are you actually going to prom, though?”

You shrug and stab a spork into your noodles.

“I already have tickets,” you confess, fiddling with the handle of your flimsy spork. Luke inclines his head, taking another bite of his lunch. “On-duty discount for Heralds.”

“You’re working on prom night?” He says like less of a question and more of a what the fuck, major, I thought we’ve gone over this before.

“For like, a few hours,” you say. Luke frowns and rolls over onto his back, thigh dangerously close to your kneecap. “What? It’s the last issue of the year.”

“It’s prom.”

“It’s an expensive party with free food and bad DJs. Gradnite’s more worth it.”

Luke shrugs and sits up; his nose almost runs into yours, the point of it sliding a hair’s breadth from your cheek. Here, you can see every individual eyelash of his and the flecks in his irises.

You can’t breathe. “Uh—I’m….”

Luke leans back a little. “Going to have fun during your last months as a senior, right?”

“Yea,” you say, the words sounds decidedly stupid, “course. I’ll have fun for you.”

Oh god, what are you getting into?

He smiles, the curve of his mouth small and real enough to snap you out of it. You rip your gaze away from his mouth—why were you even looking there in the first place?—and gnaw at the inside of your cheek, waiting for something to happen.

Luke sits back on his elbows, gazing up at you. It makes something thrill along your spine. “So,” he draws out the vowel, licks his lips, “you have a date or—”

He’s cut off by a long, echoing blare—saved by the bell, literally. You dump your spork into your now empty cup of noodles and stand, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.

“Office hours,” you excuse, jabbing an awkward thumb in a vague direction towards the buildings. “Need help on—er, my stats final.”

You scream inwardly, because you’re both in stats and it’s a terrible excuse because you likely don’t have a stats final after the AP test and you’re such a bad liar that—

“Okay? Have fun.” He’s unbothered, gazing at the thin clouds.

Bless Luke Castellan and his all-around obliviousness.

TO: becky g

(12:50) what do i do (12:51) bc methinks that luke tried talking abt (12:51) prom dates infront of me 🤢

FROM: becky g

(12:53) oh so jts luke now?? (12:53) awfully interested for a frenemy 🤨🤨

TO: becky g

(12:54) ew what frenemy i still think hes stoopid

FROM: becky g

(12:55) uh u git called him ur friend last week

TO: becky g

(12:55) FREUDIAN SLIP 😭

FROM: becky g

(12:56) freudians r subconscious feelings yk 💀

TO: becky g

(12:59) STFU GO MAKE OUT SLOPPY UR GF OR SMTH 🖕

♫ Dhruv ・ double take

[ IMAGE 1: a 0.5x picture with the flash on. The camera is angled towards your forehead and you’re looking up at it with an exasperated expression.

IMAGE 2: a zoomed-in picture from far-off, most likely across the dance hall. You’re standing in formal clothes—black shirt and wide leg slacks, sleeves rolled up to your elbows, like all the other staff and volunteers—and holding a camera slung around your neck. The lights in the ballroom paint over your frame mesmerizingly, not unlike the time you had been in the Ferris wheel watching fireworks. ]

Liked by luvvbeaus and 528 others

lukestellans (the real) your highness of prom

view all comments

majmajmaj sorry i thought that I was the official photographer. what r u even doing on ur phone at prom.

↳ lukestellans what r u doing on duty at prom. ↳ luvvbeaus i’ll do u one better: why aren’t u two dancing together at prom??

“Come on, major,” and Luke’s got his fingers wrapped around your index, tugging, “you only get one prom.”

He’s in a pair of fitted slacks and a white shirt, the jacket of his suit long discarded at one of the tables, glasses reflecting prismatic party lights. You try not to pay attention to the exposed parts of his arms, where his sleeves have been rolled to his elbows like yours. Is it just you, or is it getting kind of warm in here? It must be all the dancing bodies crammed together on the floor.

( Why is he even wearing computer glasses to prom? Not that you’re complaining—they look rather nice on him. )

You tug back, insistent. “I just need a few more pictures.”

Luke groans and lets your finger slip from his hand. You’re about to give in to his demands when he begins to stride furiously across the ballroom, towards—ah, right, Hermes is chaperoning the dance.

They exchange words, Luke gesturing passionately with his hands and his dad looking so fucking lost that you almost have to laugh. Luke and Hermes must have come to some agreement, because the jock—well, he’s a lot more than that now—is crossing the ballroom with an insane speed, legs working overtime to reach you.

He smiles, face all soft under the party lights. “You’re welcome, I just got you released from duty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Why would I talk to my dad willingly?” Luke laughs, warm hands coming up to cover yours. You’re holding the camera together now, and he finds the off switch easily because you’ve learned that he has a Sony like yours but prefers the navigable interface of Nikons and the quality of a Canon.

You frown and look at anything else but him. “I’m serious, I wanted to be on duty. There’s more fun in pictures than dancing.”

It’s half truth buried in a full lie. You like taking good pictures, and the lighting here challenges you, and you did want to be on duty, if no one else signing up for photographer meant that. And really, you’re not comfortable with dancing, but the way Luke’s looking at you with full, glassy eyes and a pleading upturn of his brows makes you want to.

Not that you’ll admit that.

“Listen,” he starts, pulling the camera strap up and off your neck, “remember when I cornered you in the hallway? That was like, a so long ago.”

You nod dumbly, confused as to where he’s going.

Luke continues, “Point is, life’s short. I want you to have fun while you can, so if you aren’t gonna do it for yourself then you should do it for me.” He holds out his hand expectantly, beckoning. “Come on, I know you want to.”

You laugh in defeat, handing over your camera bag. “You win, Castellan.”

His smile at that is so bright that it almost hurts. Hell, he’s so pretty under the soft, colorful lights that it shreds something in your chest to a bloody pulp—that might be your heart. Of all the ways you thought your senior year could go, this was definitely not one of them, though the surprise is welcome.

“One more thing,” and he’s looping your index fingers together, and you have to hold back the urge to take his hand fully in yours. Luke leads you to the tables, weaving around deflated balloons and crumpled streamers until he stops at a chair with a jacket slung over the back.

He sets down your camera bag gently on the seat, kneeling to rifle around his suit pockets. When Luke stands, he’s got a bunch of flowers wrapped around his wrist and—oh, he’s attaching a boutonnière to your breast pocket with a pair of safety pins.

You laugh awkwardly, face burgeoning with a warm blush because it’s starting to get really hot in the ballroom.

( Right? Right? )

“Y’know, usually girls wear the corsage,” you tell him, and he shrugs, puts a palm on your shoulder.

“So what? I think it’s pretty,” Luke responds, looking at the flowers on his wrist. “Plus, it just means that everyone’s gonna know I’m here with you.”

( It sounds like he’s asking you out on the lowdown, but alas, you try not to read too far into things even though the thought of you and him is…well. )

“Funny,” you manage through the fluttering of your pulse, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Castellan.”

He laughs airily, tilts his head in suggestion. He still hasn’t moved his hand away, fingers moving cautiously to graze against your nape.

“Maybe you shouldn’t know better, major.”

( Oh, what the fuck, what the fuck. )

You’re in the dark area of the ballroom, haloed in pink and shadowing Luke from disco lights. Somewhere far off—you hear it muted by the rush in your head—plays slow music for the prom queen and king, except you can’t find it in yourself to care, because it’s just you and Luke here.

On that brilliantly bright field, in his car nerd room, in that lit-up Ferris car, and here too, some nowhere dark corner in a ballroom with a stupid bawdy love song playing in the background and pink-blue-purple lights all around.

“Your laces are loose,” Luke mumbles, averting his eyes. His head is bowed, and if you strain hard enough, you can see his eyelashes. He’s so close. “You’re gonna trip when we go dance—”

You lift his head—oh, he’s closer than you thought and—mumble shut up against his mouth. In the back of your head, you think that this is such an American cliché, first kiss at prom, but it’s in the back of your head for a reason. So.

Luke tilts his head and suddenly you find yourself very, very deep in this whole…you don’t even know what it is. His glasses are slipping down his nose, pressing against your skin and he’s pulling away, ripping them off, and reeling you back in, hungry.

You think that your teeth clack together, feeling that blunt blow and you crane away to let out a laugh—Luke’s already chasing your lips, pecking senselessly until you grab him by the waist and pull him flush against you.

You register faintly that he’s stepping back and hitting the wall, his hands grasping at the front of your dress shirt and yours in his hair and you’re sucking face at prom and it’s all fireworks and polaroids and stadium lights in the space between your lungs because you don’t give a damn.

FROM: becky g

(22:42) what happened to hanging out w my best friend at prom where r u 😭😭 (23:15) silena said u might be at the back tables?? i think i see u w luke (23:15) OH NAH NVM 😨‼️ (23:15) goin home early i’ve seen ENUFF

Some tongue and no more teeth—he’s a fast learner and—soft fingers tracing shapes on your waist and hands tangled in his hair. Half-leisure, no fucks given and maybe-oohs in the background, some money passed between palms.

Everything, nothing, something. Tangible and free-falling at incredible speed and oh, Luke’s hugging you close and hiding his warm face in the juncture of your neck. He smells like curl products and Sprite. You can taste the soda bubbling in your mouth too as you catch your breath.

Luke smiles against your skin, reverent. You throw back a glance, checking your surroundings with a grin that freezes when you make eye contact with Charles, standing bewildered—eyes wide and open mouth wider—in the middle of the tables with his phone in hand.

( Oh—fuck! If there were an emoji depicting your mortified face as you stare at your best friend who just caught you making out with your rival turned friend turned friend whom you kissed passionately with tongue at prom, it would probably be 😃. )

“Uh,” you manage, and Charles starts doing a double take in disbelief, “maybe we should go?”

Luke kisses you full-force. It’s brief and hard and knocks your breath away and when he pulls back, his pupils are blown to black hole proportions.

He grins, “Dancing, yea?” The sugar-kiss-drunk flush of his face keeps your gaze captive as he twines your fingers together and tugs you towards the dance floor.

You turn to look at Charles one more time. He’s going through the five stages of grief with his head in his hands.

At least Silena’s there to comfort him. Except, she’s jumping up and down in celebration.

Well. You don’t look each other in the eye for the rest of the night.

FROM: Castellan (Maybe)

(23:59) text me when u get home (23:59) also u up for 3am taiwan popcorn chicken after gradnite 😛

TO: Castellan (Maybe)

(00:01) ur paying for it right (00:20) im home hbu??

FROM: Castellan (Maybe)

(00:21) yea jst took a shower

TO: Castellan (Maybe)

(00:21) wayyy too much info mate 😨😨

FROM: Castellan (Maybe)

(00:22) we’re splitting the snack bill bc equality (00:22) and i think we’re more than mates now?? ur a good kisser btw 😮‍💨

[2 updates]

Maj. Major changed Castellan (Maybe)’s name to suzuka boy

suzuka boy changed Maj. Major’s name to monza baby

♫ PONCHET・ I Like You The Most

[ IMAGE: Luke’s corsage-adorned hand braced against your sternum, on the side where he’s pinned the boutonnière against your black dress shirt. The flowers match, baby’s breath and pale orange roses, the lights a pink-purple-blue, everything grainy and dim to give the appearance of a nostalgic, Y2K digital camera photo. ]

Liked by perciusjakcsn, lukestellans and 357 others

majmajmaj guess who 🫱🫲

view all comments

lukestellans where my hug at 🗣️‼️

↳ luvvbeaus need me to walk u to class 😏😩 ↳ beckydwarf STOP IM TRAUMATIZED 😭😭😭 ↳ perciusjakcsn SUPER SENIOR AHH POST

conmanstole i just dont think hes good for u

↳ travstole how do u know whats good for major ?!?! ↳ conmanstole THATS MY OPINION 🗣️🤬👺‼️😡😾😾🤡🤡🤡

p.s. ★ rip luke 'tryna strike a chord' castellan, u wouldve loved where my hug at. but honestly that book scene was so icky and tho i enjoy luke as a complex character i will NOT defend him like some ppl ive seen. anyways one more chapter left >:)

sharing is caring, so pls rb and also lmk ur thoughts ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ᡣ𐭩

luke tags; @melllinaa @amortencjja @arsonnaire @ma1dita @m00ng4z3r @saltair-and-palemoonlight @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 plagiarize, translate, or use ANY works to train ai

read this 17 times atp

The Olive Theory

Luke Castellan x Reader

word count: 641

summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”

a/n: based on the olive theory from himym

@repostingmyfavs

There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.

You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.

Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.

Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.

You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.

Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.

“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.

Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.

“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.

His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”

You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.

“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.

Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.

“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.

“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.

“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.

“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.

You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.

“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.

“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.

“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.

Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.

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.

YEAH THIS GUYS GETS IT

huh? what's on my mind? oh, nothing much. ( i cant stop thinking about luke castellan humping your used clothes, sniffing your perfume and using everything you did to jerk off )

Hey girl idk if u know this but the master list link isn’t working 😢

NAUREEEE

thank you for telling me! i’ll fix it in the morning xx

WAIT GUYS PLEASR COME BACK

guys my pjo ocs ^_^

remember when i used to write fanfiction daily. rip vauxxy nation (jk lol i have sumn in the works 😝)

thinking about post-prank remus lupin who has NO FRIENDS and NO JOB and NO SNEAKY LINK. he gives the marauders the cold shoulder in the dorm room. he sneaks out in the middle of the night KNOWING the marauders are still awake. then he comes back to the dorm at 3 am, and passes out.

what’s he doing? talking shit with regulus.

their little ritual of meeting up to talk absolute dog shit about their friends started in remus’s third year when he was going through his little skinhead phase. regulus was having issues and would just read in the astronomy tower every night, until remus started showing up.

at first he’d tell him to fuck off, but regulus would eventually warm up to remus, forming a very quiet friendship.

remus would slowly stop showing up after gaining security in his friendship with the marauders, but was still nice to regulus.

that’s until the prank, of course.

post-prank remus CONSTANTLY visits the astronomy tower; he lives there. and so does regulus, even after all this time.

remus tells regulus all the shit his brothers been up to (leaving out the werewolf part, obviously) and regulus reciprocates the gesture with terrible tales about sirius.

eventually regulus tells remus about his weird attraction to james- how he gets flustered when james goes to shake his hand after a game of quidditch. how he even invites him to a few celebratory parties in the gryffindor common room. how it makes his head spin.

remus and regulus form a sort of alliance where the just complain about everything together. they don’t give advice, nor do they comfort each other- yuck. they just complain.

the thing about remus is that his friendships mend. they get fixed. he grows. remus doesn’t stay in the astronomy tower forever. regulus on the other hand, doesn’t have a choice. so when weeks pass without talking to remus, regulus remains bound to the quiet corner where they used to spend hours talking.

the strange thing about regulus and remus’s relationship is that it meant more to regulus than it did to remus, yet remus would act like regulus was his only real friend. until the marauders made it up to him again- leaving regulus alone yet again.