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ma1dita · 16 days

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love me dry

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.5k

summary: (post-TLT) The one where he meets you at his mother’s house, though both of you didn’t expect the other to be there. A glimpse into May Castellan’s perfect day (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: sorry for the hiatus! been on the study grind and didn’t even notice, but i’ve been working on this for a bit! macbeth references (comment if you catch them/or ask and i’ll yap) and slight suggestive stuff under the cut—but anyways let’s just say the prophecy by taylor swift came out at the right time.

(posted 4/19/24, semi-edited)

—

The drive to Westport has become almost an afterthought in these past few years— in the way you unconsciously reach for your favorite hoodie on the way out the door or tuck in your chair before you leave a table, almost automatic but ingrained with a touch of care. With letters to May Castellan occupying your passenger seat instead of the boy who wrote them, you’d make the drive multiple times but stop short just before the property line. It took months of parking at the bottom of the hill and just watching the sun set on the little house, so clearly being able to imagine a smaller version of him running around and wreaking havoc.

Little Luke, with bandaged knees and feet that move as fast as his motor mouth, amber eyes glinting like windchimes in the summer breeze. His mom must’ve watched him play by himself through the bay window before calling him home when the clouds covered the horizon, wispy tendrils stretching over the rain gutter like how lovers hold hands. It must’ve reminded her a lot of his father, leaving nothing but the open air in his wake. Still, all of this was familiar to you too—despite having never stepped foot in the white house.

But knowing Luke meant knowing his home like it was a part of you.

The old hatchback’s engine gently rumbled against the quiet of the property each time you visited, and May would wait for you to come near— waiting for you to be ready to walk into a mausoleum of the boy you both once knew. You were familiar to her too, even as a blurry figure hunched over the steering wheel. She’s seen your face in the small glimpses between the shattering earth of her reality and the hazy foresight she lets herself succumb to remember what her son looks like. In every vision of him since he’s left, you’ve been there; and something about that quells the pain and anguish that it brings to her body when she sees it. But May Castellan is ever an observant woman, gift of prophecy aside. A mother always knows.

It also turns out that she makes excellent conversation over a plate of slightly singed chocolate chip cookies.

—

Luke Castellan is years older than the version of him that last sat at this kitchen table. He doesn’t know if he’s any wiser for it—wondering if he’s made a mistake in coming back here after all this time as he watches his mom hustle around the kitchen that’s suspiciously sparkling clean. A silver spoon clinks against the glass pitcher that May stirs mixed berry Kool-Aid in, his favorite, he remembers, and it makes him squint against the light that filters through the gauzy curtains of the windowpane above the sink. Luke could’ve sworn that there used to be badly patched rips in the fabric, but he attributes it to the dark corner of his memory he still hides away like a secret. Sitting there and taking it all in, he wonders what it would’ve been like to actually grow up here—to stay, for once.

But that’s something he doesn’t have the privilege of knowing. When his mom turns to hand him a glass with her shaking hands, wrinkles and laugh lines are mapped across the expanse of her face. He’ll never know how they got there. The wooden chair creaks under him, groaning under the weight that he carries and Luke once again feels uncomfortable in a place he once called home.

“Knew you’d come back. A mother always knows,” May mutters, voice disembodied like she’s floating just out of reach. Her hands clasped over his, rubbing her thumbs over the veins as if she’s checking his pulse (or the possibility of him being an apparition) and the crack in her smile mirrors his. But this isn’t the home he remembers—his frontal lobe was underdeveloped back then and the only plan it could form was the one to get him the hell out of Westport, there’s something different in the details. Tiny things, like the patio swing chain reattached to its post, a mended table leg, and ceramic tiles on the countertop unbroken and smooth. This is a home and a mother he once longed for as a kid, along with the feeling of comfort and safety you can only attribute to a place like this. Calculating eyes scan the perimeter of the kitchen, but no one knows he’s made the trip to Westport, not even his own crew. Surely nothing could mess this up for him, not here. This was his last step before his quest for redemption eats away at his physical body, and then it will all be out of his hands.

There’s not much left for me here, he thinks— there’s not much of me left here, either.

Then Luke hears you before he sees you—the sound of you humming under your breath mixed with the jingle of keys turning in the front door. With bags of groceries leaving marks on your arms and a soft smile he hasn’t seen you wear in ages, for once you look lighter again. For a moment, the thought crosses his mind that this must be what you look like when he’s not around. Nonetheless, he breathes easier when you’re near. Of course, you’re here, and the irony grips him by the neck almost as if to make it known why his home feels like home again.

“Yeah hon, I’ll have to call you back,” you laugh into your headphones before tapping them with one free finger to end the call. In a split second, your eyes meet. Staggering back at the sight of him sitting at the table and the absolute grin on May’s face, you decide to continue into the space ahead and start putting the groceries away like nothing is out of sorts.

“I see you have a visitor, Miss May. Is he staying long?”

Luke sips at his glass, juice extra tart just how he likes it. His lips pucker at the taste it leaves in his mouth and when he opens his mouth there’s a hint of blue. You try not to look too long.

“For the night,” he answers, even if you weren’t talking to him, but it makes May so vibrant with the notion of him not running again that she instantly hops to her feet and rushes to make the bed in his old room. “I won’t be in your way,” he swallows. You gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame, but move around his chair without touching him—further proving that Luke is, in fact, an obstacle you must overcome. He’s a stranger in his own home and you’ve found yourself at ease in it. You wonder if any of that will make a difference in the long run.

“She’s…”

“More peaceful. I’ve been practicing with my dad, so I do what I can to ease her fits but I’m not exactly equipped to lift a curse from Hades,” you mutter through a bitten lip. Luke stares at you but it feels nostalgic, like someone on the outside looking in. Well, shit. He’s been leading demigods to their deaths every summer and you’ve been trying to cure his mentally ill mother in the time you don’t spend trying to stop him.

“I don’t think I even remember the last time she made sense while talking to me,” he laughs hollowly. You purse your lips and shrug, “I visit her every two weeks. She still has her triggers, and she gets confused but she’s not in pain. Your letters helped.”

“Is that why you came here then?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” you joke feebly. It falls flat and yet he still smiles, even when you say, “They weren’t for me.”

“They were about you. All of them were.”

You know that too. May makes you read them to her before bedtime as you stroke her hair and send her off to Hypnos. You’ve relived your relationship with Luke a million little times, and he’s written about you and all of your yesterdays like it was the only glimpse of Elysium he’d ever reach. In those letters, you get to remember the good parts of being in love—laughing in the empty amphitheater, holding hands under the dining table, sneaking kisses in the strawberry fields.

You used to understand each other so well: every dream, every feeling. But there is nothing you understand about the man sitting across from you now. The both of you sit at the kitchen table and there is nothing more to say.

Luke doesn’t have to stay. While you were at the supermarket, he spent an hour trying to explain to his mother that he needed her blessing to swim in the River Styx. Through nuances and veiled simplicity in the words he weaved to convince her, there wasn’t much opposition in her half-empty, half-prophetic mind. May always knew that Luke loved to swim when she took him to the beach, and that was that.

There was nothing more to say.

—

He knows it’s too good to be true when moments later May’s screams carry through the halls of the little house, down the stairway you’re currently clambering up to reach her. By the time his boots reach the second landing, he finds the two women he loves most in a huddle against the linen closet, his mother’s glowing green eyes and empty groans rattling him to the bone. If he were any smaller, he’d be shaking. Even now he doesn’t know what to do— feet frozen as he watches you brush her curls away from her face and lull her to solace.

“Can’t find Luke’s sheets—he needs the Toy Story ones…” May mutters as she rocks on her heels, “My boy needs to be home…He’s meant to be home!” Her fingernails are cutting into your wrists and then she silences with a wave of your hand.

“He’s home, Miss May. He’s right there,” you whisper. When your eyes look at Luke, you watch him crumble—the cracks in his fortitude tumbling like fallen rocks at the sight of the two of you and then you see him. The boy you met at 14 who was angry at the world for making him run away from his mother and the hands of fate until it crept up to snuff him out for the sake of a prophecy foretold by deities who will never understand what it’s like to be human. But there are no second chances, and there is nowhere left to run. “He’s here for you. I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

“I see it, the two of you together. The worst will be over soon, and then it’ll all make sense,” she says breathily, licking her lips and straightening herself like nothing happened. Even after you send her off to prepare a basket for the beach, Luke doesn’t move when his mother pats his arm and walks around his body and towards the stairs. Neither of you speak until your fingers touch his jaw lightly, and Luke doesn’t know if you’re trying to help him or inspect him. He tilts down to look at you anyway.

“She thinks we’re still together.”

He blinks. Somehow that’s the most shocking thing he’s heard today. Fate is most definitely cruel and fucked up because he never expected it to be like this—once upon a time he hoped he could take you home to meet his mother when everything was said and done; no shackles from Titans or pressure from the gods. It was supposed to be different.

“The letters probably didn’t help as much as you thought they would then,” he mumbles, calloused hands guiding your hands over to his swiftly beating heart. You scoff, “Neither does bringing up my boyfriend. She thinks it’s you.” He’d believe anyone who’d say they watched you yank his heart out of his chest with that statement, everything bloody in your hands. It’s still yours, even if you don’t want it.

“Kit?”

You shake your head and shrug, “That was forever ago. But he treats me well.”

Luke wants to ask more but by the tension in your shoulders, he knows not to push. He’s not entitled to know anything more than what you give him. It’s not his place anymore. So his brow furrows at your next suggestion.

“Just pretend, Luke. For the day, so your mom doesn’t get agitated. I’m not asking for much here.”

It’s a terrible, terrible idea—even you know that. But you both have always been good pretenders. Liars, a voice corrects in the back of your mind. You reason that it’s for May and insist upon that fact, even if the heartbroken girl you left at Camp Half-Blood is raging at you from deep inside the recesses of your mind that you hide her in. What’s one day with him compared to the many you’ve gone without? You don’t need to know the rest of why he’s here, or what more he’s going to do— and you don’t ask.

Not knowing has always hurt less.

—

You’ve forgotten how good Luke is at playing the part of a good boyfriend. He offers to drive to the beach, carries the picnic basket and blanket for you all to sit on, and listens intently when May asks about your college classes. There’s no discomfort in the way he holds your hand as you walk in the sand or dusts your feet off before laying them across his lap. It’s easy to laugh at his bad jokes, it’s easy to act like the boyfriend you describe is anything like him (even if he’s the complete opposite), and it’s too damn easy to fall into the familiar rhythm that is you and Luke. The three of you lay down as the spring breeze covers you from the rest of reality, hiding away from the truth of a broken woman and two ex-lovers. By late afternoon, you find yourself enjoying it, and it’s cruel how the guilt isn’t rolling off you in waves, instead longing for him to follow you anywhere.

He meets you by the shoreline with both of you waist-deep in the water. May’s collecting seashells but she turns to look at you two every so often like she’s framing this memory in her fragile mind. Without saying it out loud, the both of you hope it will hold.

“She always talks about you, you know? Even without trying,” you mutter as saltwater pours from your fingers to the valleys made by the veins in his forearms. It’s like initiating touch without the consequences of actually doing it, and he immerses himself in the feeling as it spills over him, feet rocking against the tide.

“I do too. Can’t help it.”

When the sea ripples once more pushing you against the wall of his body, you end up holding on, and he doesn’t let go. You both smell like salt and sunshine, pressed together and nothing has made more sense. The silence goes on for a beat too long—he whispers, “You still talk about me? Your boyfriend must hate that.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk about you? For anyone to get to know me, they have to know you.”

Your shirt is stuck to your skin in the surf and Luke’s hands brush over the waistline of your underwear, daring to reacquaint himself with your touch and spur a reaction from you. You may be the best actress he’s ever known but anything is better than watching you be complacent with the false niceties of the day.

“There isn’t much worth knowing.”

“I’d never say that, Luke,” jaw tensing, you let out a breath when his hands encircle your hips, hidden in plain sight in the deep of the ocean. He chuckles and the sound tickles your brain to remind you it's the type of laugh he spits out when he’s hiding his anger, “There’s a lot we’re both not saying.” Your name slips past his lips, sneaking past your defenses and hitting you head-on like a bullet.

“Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why are you helping his mother, why aren’t you actively fighting and turning him in, why are you letting him hold you if he’s only going to leave again—there are too many questions and only one clear answer.

“Because it’s out of our hands, isn’t it, Luke? You love your mother but you wouldn’t have come here unless it’s too late. Annie told me you went to see her in San Francisco.”

He was never here to make amends or save face. There was no version of him that was going to ask you to run away with him because he knows you deserve more than always running from fate. He’d do it all over again as long as you got this— the life you’re living with your college degree, your boyfriend, and your happy family— and Luke has no place in that.

A dry laugh bubbles from his throat, sticking like seafoam when he says, “You hate San Francisco.”

You wouldn’t have come.

—

By the time you get home for dinner, your skin is sensitive and tingly from the heat of the sun. May’s tracing circles into the back of your hand as she leads you up the patio steps. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that makes you sway against the doorway.

“Too much time having fun,” she mumbles, patting your cheek, “Take a cold shower dear. Join us when you’re ready?” Luke’s eyes follow you all the way up the stairs and then again, he’s left to his own devices.

Most of the said shower was spent thinking about what your friends would say about you for playing house with the enemy. The guilt felt like ice along your spine, paralyzing you for wanting to be selfish, to choose what makes you happy even if it fucks the rest of the world. But looking in the mirror afterward was scarier—you recognized the girl that stared back at you as someone you thought you’d never see again. A version you left behind years ago, with her head held high and so sure of herself with your Luke by your side.

Surely, there’s no harm in indulging in this vice for the rest of the night. Not when you haven’t felt this relaxed in years.

Dinner is being served by the time you make your way back downstairs. It’s a simple dish you taught Luke how to make back at camp when you raided the kitchens at midnight. Nothing special, reminding you of your own home—but the fact that he remembered makes your smile widen as you take a seat and promise to wash the dishes. Luke chuckles the type that makes his eyes crinkle in mirth once he watches you dig into your meal, knees brushing under the table like old times.

Everything feels easier after that.

“Today was the best day,” his mother mutters as you tuck the covers under her chin. May kisses both of your cheeks before she shuts her eyes and you gently fold the letter she chose tonight back into her nightstand for safekeeping. This time, you read her the story of your first kiss with Luke sitting at the foot of her bed in the dim light of her room. It’s less scary here than he remembers, but maybe it’s because this time there’s no screaming and him running to hide in the closet. Your voice is much more pleasant than those suppressed memories, immersing you all in a more pleasant one— the both of you in the amphitheater kissing on the stage with his hands in your belt loops. Luke could recite every word on that page if it meant he could go back in time, not with Backbiter but with you, just to live through that moment again. I think I’m falling in love with her, is how the letter ended but by then he already knew. Writing it down to tell his mother always made it real.

This, you, right here—everything is real.

He’s silent even as he watches you smoke through the cracked window of his childhood bedroom, and you’re surprised when he steals a puff. His hands are shaking under the moonlight and suddenly it’s clear that he’s scared. Everyone feels fear, but in all the years that you’ve known him, Luke Castellan has never let you see it.

“Those things will kill you one day,” you mumble, watching him lean against the windowpane. It’s what he used to always tell you so that you’d quit, but old habits die screaming. It’s another vice you refuse to let go of.

“Wanted to try something new before I…” his voice drops off.

Lose myself.

Lose you.

Luke coughs as the smoke enters his lungs, a momentary rush hitting him brought by the nicotine. Your hands go to cup his jaw as you set your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to just be honest if there’s truly nothing left to lose.

“I’m out of time, trouble. It’s out of my hands.”

Shuddering at the feeling of him tracing every ridge of your spine, you think the way he says your nickname sounds like the way he used to say I love you. It’s raining outside now, the harsh pitter-patter of wet drops drowning out the sound of your voice, “What can I do? Is there anything left for me to do?” When his head shakes, your noses brush, and your breaths intermingle, almost magnetic. Perhaps the rain is getting in from the open window and you feel it hitting your cheek until you see the shine of his eyes.

“You think I did this because of you. I know you do, but you need to know I did all of this for you, trouble. I choose you and me. Every time,” Luke gasps, intertwining his fingers with yours, the both of you pushing and pulling in this embrace like the moon with the tide.

“Luke…”

You’re pressing yourself against him, face hidden in his shirt as your brain catches up to your heart, hasty breaths and every atom of your being screaming to be held together by him and then you’re on him, through tears and clenched fists tumbling towards the tiny twin bed. The only way he likens himself to his father is his yearning to be a true traveler, but what he knows best out of anything in this entire world is you. He knew this body once too— every birthmark, scar, and dimple. Who else has had the privilege to navigate the ridges of your spine, to know the pressure of your kiss? A tattoo peeks out to say hello at your hip bone. There are new stories and new marks, there are parts of you unknown to him now. Luke thinks that must be what hurts most about each time he leaves you.

But then why does this feel so good?

Warm palms caress your waist, nudging your shirt up in the hopes that this will be enough compensation for all his misdoings—the tears you’ve cried, the anger you’ve felt, the things you had to do and will have to do because of him. Luke is someone who’s gotten comfortable with manipulating time, but time has manipulated him and all of his plans for the both of you. Sleepy setback bedroom eyes meet his own that glow in the gentle light of the lamp on the nightstand. Maybe if you pretend again his childhood bedroom can turn into the star-speckled darkness of cabin 12. You can just lay down and tuck underneath his arms waiting for him to fall asleep. But he stays up this time, making you hiss at the feeling of his lips against your neck.

“We can’t… Angelface,” you say breathily, still leaning into the trail he marks across the valley of your collarbone, “We’re not together anymore.”

A kiss is placed on your pulsepoint, knocking against the cord of your necklace.

“We shouldn’t… I have a boyfriend.”

Another kiss rests against the warmth of your forehead.

“We’re on opposite sides of a war… You’re my enemy.”

Finally, his lips meet yours, for a moment as if to test the waters.

“Not tonight,” he says, and there is no other option but to agree. There is a lifetime to make up for in a night, and fuck it—they’ll crucify you anyway. You were never meant to be a hero, that’s what he always wanted. You just wanted him. Your head hits the pillow and he looms over you until you’re pulling him in for more than what’s necessary to accept an apology.

There’s nothing left to lose.

—

Before your mind can wake up dreading the consequences of last night, your socked feet take you to the kitchen to clean up the mess you’ve both left behind. The old floorboards creak underfoot and there’s a method in the way you’re washing the dishes, hot water and soap starting to seep through your shirt sleeve but you choose not to notice. Scrubbing at the dirt and grime left behind on the porcelain until your fingers start to prune, a lump forms in your throat before you can stop it. Maybe if you scrub hard enough at the glass that Luke drank out of last night it can eventually be clean. But it’s taking you longer than you thought, jaw tensing and fingers turning white at how hard you’re holding on. May appears behind you, guiding your hands away from the scalding water, and though you resist— the glass drops into the sink and shatters with a loud crack.

“Damn spot wouldn’t get out,” you sniff, turning away to look out the window and think of anything but him, but he’s everywhere even when he’s not here, so much so that it suffocates you. Guilt lines every shaking breath you take until lavender eyes meet amber at the sensation of her clasping your red and raw palms with a dishtowel.

You see him in her too.

“His fate is greater than the cards he’s been dealt with. You know that.”

It’s the clearest and most sensible May’s spoken in days. Perhaps when it comes to Luke, she’ll always know better. Eyes darting elsewhere to fight the tears that brim at your lash line, you look down at your swollen hands, palm up towards the heavens almost imploring, “Why couldn’t it be me?”

The question’s direction is unclear and you don’t expect to get an answer, turning away to grab some ice from the freezer and she remains standing there—staring at the windowsill at a compass that’s now found its home next to the faded picture of a man who’s left more times than there are reasons to stay. Just like his father, she thinks, a small smile quirking at the side of her lip where a scar would meet her son’s. Clicking it open delicately like how she used to hold his hand, there’s a photo of you and Luke resting against the cover ripped away from a memory frozen in time.

“It is you,” May says quietly, though you’ve already left the room.

A mother always knows, after all.

—

“Aphrodite,” I pleaded to the moon-drenched night sky. “Tell me; if love is meant to heal, then why does it destroy those who choose it?” From somewhere beyond the clouds, I heard the Goddess laugh. And I knew. -Nikita Gill

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan fanfic #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians

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randomsillyfangirl · 10 months

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Oliver Otto x Reader

To start this off. Ik many people think that Oliver is gay, which is alright and people are allowed to think whatever they want! Me personally, I don't really give him a label. But I do think he likes girls, since he's shown much interest in them. I do not mean any harm with this post! If you do not like it- please just scroll away 💕

But anyway, again I will still be writing Pablo Gavi x Reader. I'm just watching American House Wives rn and am obsessed with Oliver lol

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You and your family just moved to WestPort. Your father was a famous author while your mom was the ceo of a famous book company- matched made in heaven. You were an only child, their only daughter. And in a whole new country.

In the first week of your family moving your mom and Katie became besties, your dad and Gregg became friends. But you? You felt so alone. Everyone else seemed to be snobby. You didn't like them- you weren't raised like a WestPort kid.

Your family was going to the Ottos house, they invited you to their home for a barbeque. " and young lady, you better not be on your phone or reading the whole time we're there! " your mother warned and you sighed, you really missed home and didn't wanna be around WestPort type people.

Thankfully the Ottos weren't those snobby WestPort people, but you still wanted to be alone. Taylor tried talking to you, and you two did have a conversation. " what sports are you into? " Taylor asked, but before you could respond Oliver started to insult his sister, " all sports are useless they're to get into college. You're just wasting your time. " he said and you rolled your eyes.

" actually, that's not true. What's more important is experience." you corrected him, when you made eye contact with him you had to hold back a smile, he's so cute.

Oliver was going to give you a response before Taylor stopped his comment. " you dress so... Let me dress you!! " she started to beg. You sighed and nodded, " mom, me and Taylor are going to our place to try on clothes." you told your mom, but Katie demanded that you bring Oliver too.

At your place, Taylor went through your closest. " you have really cute clothes! Why don't you wear them?" Taylor asked. " because WestPort kids don't." you sighed sitting on three bed. Oliver stood against the wall, looking around your room.

(See below for the outfit + hair Taylor chose for you)

When Oliver saw you, he smiled. Taylor noticed and her jaw dropped abit- Oliver wasn't being a bitch? What's going on!

Oliver coughed to signal to his sister to stop being weird. You smiled back at Oliver. " you're in my English, aren't you?" you asked looking at him. He nodded and chuckled, " don't forget, also in your biology." you nodded and laughed, " almost forgot."

Taylor went to ' go to the bathroom '- aka give you two some time to talk. " why'd you move to WestPort? You seem like you hate it. " Oliver asked. You sighed, " my parents wanted to expand their business from (your country) to the states too. And here, we can make connections. Everyone loves it here but me." you sighed again. Oliver sat next to you, " trust me. It gets better."

The next day at school, you wore another outfit Taylor recommend for you. (See pictures below) You didn't have any friends, so you walked in alone. You got alot of attention. You weren't wearing skinny jeans that cost $300 with some ugly expensive grandma sweater. You were wearing a Pinterest type outfit that probably cost you $20, excluding the shoes.

You were getting attention from the girls, more of them questioning you. But the boys? They liked your outfit. Yawning, you walked to your class, you could feel peoples eyes on you and you hated it.

Oliver watched you walk in. " isn't she pretty? " he heard one of the guys say and Oliver nodded. Cooper nudged his shoulder, " ceo and successful writers daughter right? Perfect for your mission. " he teased, but Oliver wasn't listening; all his focus was on you.

In English, it was a pair assignment. Cooper wasn't in his class, so nobody interrupted his plan to ask yo- who the hell is that? Some WestPort snobby guy was asking you to be his partner. " so darling, you do the work my dad will do m- " the guy was proposing his idea until you interrupted, " I'd rather get hit by a car." which seemed to annoy him. You looked over at Oliver and smiled, giving him the confidence to ask you to be his partner.

" You? Me? Working together? What do you think? " Oliver said sitting next to you. You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that. We can go to my place after school? Since I've been to yours already " you chuckled and he did as well, " I've always wondered what the house of a ceo and writer looks like. " he said making you laugh.

You lived in one of the larger houses in WestPort. Oliver was checking out the place, amazed, it was a gorgeous house. You sighed, " sorry it's not very fun.." . " it's amazing!! " Oliver basically screamed, hearing an echo. You shook your head but chuckled, " it looks nice.. But it's lonely " Oliver listened to your words, " yeah, like cooper.. " he said, sighing to keep talking " but hey, you'll make plenty of friends." he said smiling, making you smile.

You looked at him, " wanna see all the useless and expensive crap I have? " he nodded repeatedly, " umm yeah! " and his reaction made you laugh. Going into one room, " this is where my dad keeps these random glass statues. " going on into another, " my moms old coats, boringggg " and then finally, " my records and record players " you said, going into the room next to your room.

In your room, you two started your group project. Your project would last for half the school year- a massive school project.

But the two of you started to get really close during the time. He was your friend friend in WestPort, other than Taylor.

" so I was thinking, we hang out. My place. " Oliver proposed the idea to you. You nodded, " yeah sure, I'll bring the study stu- " you were saying until Oliver intrupred. " no no. No books. Just you and me. Hanging out." he clarified. You smiled and felt you cheeks go light red, " I'd like that." you told him, making him smile too.

You two went up to his room later that day. You sat on his bed, " sooo, what we doin?" you asked him. He looked at you, a little panicked, " what are we doing?" he repeated and you looked confused.

" you have no plan? "You said and then laughed at the lack of response. You weren't laughed at him, you were laughing because it was sweet. You got up," wanna see what we just got at my place? " and Oliver nodded, so you took him to your place to show him.

Your parents got in a massive library. You ran to one of the shelves, grabbing the ladder and climbing up, " there's a book in here that reminded me of you!!" you yelled, looking for the book. By ' reminded ' you meant ' I specifically asked for this book, to give to you. ' hey, that's how girls work.

You came back down to him with a book, before you could speak Oliver already took the words out of your mouth, " how did you know I wanted this book!? " well maybe not exactly what you'd say, just rearrange it.

You nodded, " thought you'd like it." you gave it to the brunette. " you can have it." And you both smiled. Oliver coughed, " I was wondering if tomorrow, you and me, alone, go out somewhere. No studying, but this time I'll have a plan.." he said, fidgeting with the corners of the book.

You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that.." Oliver was trying to ask you on a date, Taylor said that he should.. " she likes you! " Taylor yelled at Oliver. " but how do i ask her? If I ask her to go out- she'll assume it's got studying! " Oliver argued. Taylor laughed, " then ask her to go out alone, and mention no study. And people call me dumb." Taylor scoffed.

------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed!! <3

Ik this is all over the place- but I actually had fun writing this.

For the people who asked to be tagged in a oliver otto x reader post: @y4sm1nsstuff @animesimp3456 @hunterluvr

#american housewives #oliver otto x reader #oliver otto #literally I'm the only one who wanted this

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drberfarious · 3 months

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wait what do you mean may castellan lives in westport, connecticut?

what do you mean she lives in one of the towns on connecticut's gold coast?

what do you mean she lives in one of the richest areas of the usa?

how the fuck is this single mom living in westport?

could this be a result of hermes trying?

could this be the extent of hermes' power? to put his kid in one of the best school districts in connecticut and the usa as a whole?

rick picked a random town in connecticut close to nyc and didn't realize how rich the area is because of nyc

#just weird that rick casually said that may lives in a town with a median household income 3x that of the usa #and offered no explanation #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #may castellan #hermes #rr crit #but not really?#pjo spoilers #technically

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hawkp · 16 days

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West Wing fan fic ideas that I need motivation to write that no one asked for —

“ Mirrors ” — With the Congressional investigation and tensions running high in the White House, Sam quietly develops an addiction to stimulants during preparation for Bartlet’s fourth State of the Union. Like everything else, Leo handles it.

“ Can You Hear the Music ” — Five times music is played in the White House.

“ Lineage ” — Leo puts in a call to Westport, Connecticut or Leo tells Josh’s mom he’s been shot.

“ Next to Me ” — Sam loses the election in California, Santos wins, and everyone slowly drifts apart. When nobody’s heard from Sam in over a year, Toby makes a long distance welfare check.

#pls bully me or ask me questions or give me ideas baaaaaaaaaaagghhhhh #why do I like to beat the shit outta Sam????#sam seaborn #leo mcgarry #josh lyman #jed bartlet #cj cregg #toby ziegler #donna moss #tww #the west wing #tww fic #west wing fic #ww fic #fic #or take them and write them pls I’m begging

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carrickbender · 5 months

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Just an update:

As of Saturday, at 6.10pm, I am done with my BS in Supply Chain Management. I was super worried about my final in my SQL class , so I was a stress cadet until late tgat night when my prof posted final grades and I had a solid B. Yeah, so that's done.

- Then on Friday, I had a great 2nd interview with a company out in Westport for a pretty substantial management position. The GM was really thorough, and I was pretty upbeat about the interview. Went and checked in on 2 'bridge' jobs that fell through, and I was just dejected. Stopped and got a Slurpee(like ya do!), then just as I was making the turn down the road to my house, the HR manager from the interview called me and offered me the Production Management position. It's a raise in the base pay of my old position at the mill, plus a 10% performance bonus, and a week more vacation. Mind you, it's going to be a challenge, but it's one I've been wanting for a long time. My theory?

We went and saw some cool trains. The caboose was one of the last commercially produced ever, and the long train car was owned by the Great Northern railroad and used exclusively for the route my mom used to take to see our fam in Wisconsin. Btw- the lady in the hat holding Bug? That's my mom.

(Fwiw: $3.99 for a box of glass ornaments, made in the USA? Thank you garage sales!!!)

Thank you to all of you for the good energy and faith across the miles. I'm not gonna lie, I shed a few tears of joy when I got the email with the offer. It's been so demoralizing having so many companies pass on me, telling me no when I knew I was a great choice. Now is my time to shine... And if you are in the same place, I am here for you and have lots of that same energy to give. In this house, we lift up, not punch down!

Much love yall- I couldn't have succeeded without you, and don't forget it. My gratitude will always be eternal!

#me #this is my life #dadlife #washington state #new job #supply chain management #stick and stay make it pay #in repair

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radicalreports · 11 months

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Extremists Links: LGBTIQ Community Celebrates Pride Month Despite Threats of Far Right Extremist Violence

The latest reporting on extremist groups within the Radical Right.

White Supremacists, Militia Movement, and Far Right Extremists

Communities Continue To Mobilize Against Anti-LGBTQ Attacks As New Fascist Formations Emerge [It’s Going Down]

Pride organizers promise safety at festivities amid anti-LGBTQ rhetoric [ABC News]

Utah Pride Festival security cost $300k this year — up five-fold due to anti-LGBTQ+ hate. [The Salt Lake Tribune]

Police welcome at Motor City Pride [Axios]

Pride Month Begins, as Attacks on LGBTQ+ Rights and Women’s Rights Escalate [Ms. Magazine]

‘Resilience of the community’: Coeur d’Alene’s Pride in the Park stays peaceful after Patriot Front arrests last year [The Spokesman-Review]

‘Reject the hate’: A look at North Idaho’s LGBTQ+ community after Patriot Front arrests [Idaho Capital Sun]

Tennessee pride celebrations showcase queer joy amid neo-Nazi threats and legal attacks [Raw Story]

'Fear and hostility': DeSantis legislation prompts Florida cities to cancel, restrict Pride events [USA Today]

Fight erupts at anti-Pride Day protest outside L.A. school where trans teacher’s flag was burned [Los Angeles Times]

Parents and LGBTQ+ advocates clash at Saticoy Elementary School Pride protest [San Bernardino Sun]

Hate Crime Probe Launched After LGBTQ+ Flag Torched at Elementary School [The Daily Beast]

Anti-drag & Pride protest in suburban Virginia just outside of D.C. [Los Angeles Blade]

Pride Day banner vandalized in Bolton over the weekend; hate crime investigation ensues [MassLive.com]

'It's horrifying,' Individual fires pellet gun toward line of people outside LGBTQ+ bar in Westport [ABC News]

Pro LGBTQ+ Brands Braces for a Right-Wing War on Pride Month [Insider]

More Than 530 Anti-LGBTQ Bills Have Been Proposed Across the Country in 2023 [TruthOut]

Russia Moves to Ban Trans Health Care [Human Rights Watch]

Incel-inspired Toronto massage parlour murder was act of terror, judge rules [CBC]

Prominent figure in German far-right party charged over alleged Nazi slogan [Associated Press]

Report: Even as Militias Disbanded, Anti-Government Groups Surged in US [VOA]

Moms for Liberty listed as ‘anti-government’ group by extremism watchdog [The Guardian]

You might not have heard of a far-right site called Poast. A hack reveals what's happening [USA Today]

The case of an armed far-right operative arrested in Genesee County [The Buffalo News]

Judge dismisses civil rights case against NSC-131, a blow to prosecutors seeking to rein in white supremacist group [NPR]

Utah Patriot Front Homophobe Sentenced for Child Pornography [Advocate]

Chesterfield teen threatened family and warned of death penalty, investigators say [St. Louis Post-Dispatch]

Failed Republican candidate charged in shooting spree aimed at New Mexico Democrats [Reuters]

Failed New Mexico GOP candidate indicted by federal grand jury in alleged shooting spree targeting Democratic officials’ homes [CNN]

AZ GOP senator proudly flies flag adopted by ‘fringe’ far-right extremists [Arizona Mirror]

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malloryhuitson · 8 months

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location: huitson residence, kitchen

status: closed for @nathanccrane

There was something peaceful about Colorado that Mallory noted as she and Aspen arrived back to town. Her daughter was happy, skipping around that for once her mom followed through to stay in Westport for a little longer, not even caring that there were still trips to the HPF headquarters, doing the school work that her high school in Providence Peak sent over due to the special circumstances noted when Mallory informed them that she’d be missing the first few days of tenth grade.

Despite missing the peace, Mallory also needed to clear her head from the mindless droning of Westport’s finest. With her daughter out with friends, catching up and sharing stories of their summers, she decided to take a page out of the teenager’s book, inviting Nathan over, for some sort of stimulating conversation.

“My mother was hinting at perhaps coming over for a few months on a trial basis,” She said, as she uncorked a bottle of red for them to share. “Completely overlooking one of the many benefits to me moving here was the distance between me and her.” She poured him a glass, sliding it over her marble breakfast bar he was perched on. “Though it would be amusing to see her in full Westport mode with the bitch 3 doors down. How has the neighborhood been in my well-missed absence?”

#nathanccrane

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americanhousewifeottofamily · 3 months

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GIVE US YOUR AMERICAN HOUSEWIFE HOT TAKES!!!!!!!!!!

I have so many but here are my main ones:

-Season 5 while the shortest season is still an amazing season and doesn’t deserve the hate it gets!!!

-Giselle Eisenberg did a phenomenal job of being Anna-Kat during season 5 and doesn’t deserve any hate for replacing Julia Butters!

-The original second breakfast group is irreplaceable and they made J.T and Tammi way too much like Angela and Doris; there shouldn’t have been a replacement second breakfast group for season 5

-Greg and Katie were both bad parents however Greg was the worse parent

-Oliver should have gone back to Ballet once his ACL was healed also should’ve made an episode where Oliver went to the doctor to see how his ACL healed

-Anna-Kat has the worst character development and Oliver has the best character development

-Greg and Katie should’ve either separated for a bit to see that they were good together or gotten divorced

-The only reason Katie is friends with Doris is because Angela and Doris go together like two peas in a pod and Katie liked Angela as a friend but couldn’t stand the way Doris acted like a Westport wife at first, but then got used to it

-Katie’s favoritism of her kids changed per season (seasons 1&2 Anna-Kat was the favorite, seasons 3&4 Oliver was the favorite, and season 5 Taylor was the favorite)

-Katie should’ve never shown/verbalized her favoritism

-Hans Gruber and Luthor while both cute storylines should’ve never happened because Greg adopted both of them without communicating with Katie first!!!

-Suzanne was the creepiest Westport mom

- British Greg and Viv starting their family should’ve been a bigger storyline

-they should’ve made one more episode for the finale where you could see Baby Otto and see how Greg and Katie handle the newborn stage, and shown all the kid’s weddings/raising their own families and their futures instead of the ending we got

-Anna-Kat should’ve had just a completely different storyline for the season 4 finale “season 4 episode 20: Prom” because Covid ended that season early which means that Julia Butter’s last episode as Anna-Kat was her portraying a bully which while she’s mean ti family members seems to be so sweet to her classmates and Katie’s reaction to Anna-Kat being bullied would’ve been a huge reaction and I feel like Greg would underreact to the bullying situation

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ma1dita · 3 months

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Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK

the perfect weekend

a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

alternate universe masterpost

words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)

summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise

a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE

(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)

—

This weekend felt like a dream.

Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.

But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)

Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.

But he couldn’t think of how.

He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).

When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).

He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.

Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.

“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”

“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”

Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.

“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”

And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky.

He’s never needed perfect.

He just needs you.

His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.

You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with?

“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”

His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.

“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”

You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.

“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.

“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.

“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”

Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.

“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”

“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”

The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.

“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.

You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.

---

(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #luke castellan imagine #🪽#જ⁀➴ jo answers !

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