#they’re childhood friends to enemies to lovers

[no-144444]

FIC-TOBER

Hey everyone! I've decided to participate in the regualr kink-tober stuff (in my own way) :)

I have a fic fr every day, I'll try and get them out at roughly the smae time but with work and school I'm a little busy so please be mindful of that and also enjoy! Some of these are requests, so thank you to the people that requested and please enjoy!

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October 1st:  Making moves  Enemies to lovers -> Lando Norris x publicist  reader  Why did your client have to be such a pain in the ass? 

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October 2nd: The grid: Meet-cutes! 

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October 3rd:  New boy Brother’s teammate -> Jack Doohan x Gasly reader  It’s not your fault his new teammate is hot (smau)

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October 4th:  Private, but not secret -> Lewis Hamilton  Married? Maybe. But why does everyone else need to know? 

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October 5th: (smut) One bed trope -> Lando Norris x Fewtrell reader  One bed… what could go wrong? 

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October 6th:  Love and lies Fake relationship -> Alex Albon x reader “We don’t love each other, right?”

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October 7th:  mi señora Everyone else ships you -> Franco Colapinto x Williams reader  “We’ve barely ever spoken!” “He’s in love with you!” 

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October 8th:  Our fav commentator Y/n Y/l/n! Tweets about our favourite F1 commentator!

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October 9th:  Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide! Things heating up between you and Judgy McJudgy pants...

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October 10th:  Losing Battle Marriage of convenience -> Lance Stroll “Children?” “No way.”

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October 11th: (smut and requested) Temptations Skinny dipping-> Max Verstappen “Joining me?” 

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October 11th:  Accidental injury Injury causer-> Logan Sargeant x engineer! reader “Watch where you’re going please?!” 

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October 12th:  Why did it have to be me? Trapped in an elevator -> George Russell x driver! reader “Don’t move!” “I’m not moving!”

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October 13th:  Persistent Pestering Sworn off relationship and ‘I’m in love with you’ -> Charles Leclerc  Ferrari drivers are persistent. You’re not looking for love. Too bad he is. 

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October 14th:  The grid: Post wedding shenanigans ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

October 15th: Sunshine? More like demon spawn.   Sunshine vs. Grumpy -> Daniel Riccarrdo x RB mechanic! reader “Do you even stop smiling?” “Only when you’re not around.”

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October 16th:  Listening ears on Matchmaking gone wrong -> Zhou Guanyo x Bottas reader  How come when you try to set Zhou up, it always ends badly? (smau)

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October 17th:  Admin looking for love! Secret pining -> Carlos Sainz x williams admin! reader  Why did Alex Albon feel the need to post you on his story as a ‘lonely woman looking for love’? And why did Carlos Sainz dm you after it? 

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October 18th:  Creepy guy who isn't all that creepy Coffee mix up -> Ollie Bearman  Why does your cappuccino taste like shit? And why are you being followed by a random 6 foot man? 

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October 19th:  Opposites attract, right? Messy vs. neat -> George Russell  “Where’s my-” “Babe, stop leaving things lying around!” 

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October 20th:  Happy accident! Accidentally married -> Max Verstappen  Good night, right? 

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October 21st:  Stoic much? Secret baby -> Oscar Piastri  “You have a wife?” “You have a kid?!” 

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October 22nd:  The grid: Time for a hot lap! 

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October 23rd:  All grown up! Childhood crush -> Arthur Leclerc  “I had a crush on you as a kid.” “Same.” “What?!”

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October 24th: Breaking up (not making up) The one that got away -> Kimi Antonelli  “So we’re done?” “yeah.”

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October 25th:  Wallflowers like flowers too Friends to lovers -> Oscar Piastri  “I got you some flowers.” “Why?” “Because they’re pretty, like you.”

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October 26th:  Thoughtless love Best friends to lovers -> Paul Aron Being with him is just easy.

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October 27th: Lovers in denial Won't admit it-> Logan Sargeant  “I don’t like her!” “Exactly, you love her!” 

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October 28th:  Was it casual? Scared to commit -> Lando Norris  Aren't we just casual?

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October 29th: The Grid: Late for a date!

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October 30th:  The Grid: confesses! 

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October 31st:  Chancer Halloween party -> Oscar Piastri Can he figure out who you are at the masquerade ball before you leave forever?

[halfhissandwich]

listen, I just want logince to fight, cry, kiss and make up.

[ittgirl23]

TEASER FOR MY NEW JEGULUS FIC

SUMMARY: James and regulus meet one summer when they are children and become each other’s first friend. They think the bond they share is unbreakable, but will that prove true in the future, when their relationship is tested again and again?

“Hey Reggie,” James said suddenly, looking up at him from the ground where he was laying while Regulus swung back and forth in the tire swing. “Do you wanna play quidditch today?”

Regulus felt excitement as well as nervousness bubble up in his gut. He loved quidditch, but whenever he played with Sirius the older boy would fly to extreme heights, almost falling nearly every time. It made Regulus anxious that someone would get hurt.

“Sure,” Regulus said, feet in the air as he swung back and forth on the tire.

“Cool,” James said, smiling widely at him. “We can go to my house to get the brooms.”

“Ok.” Regulus said, hoping off the swing and following James to the Potter’s house.

Thirty minutes later Regulus’s arms were filled with quaffles and snitches while James carried both child-size brooms in his arm. The older boy was leading him down the path behind the Potters house that leads to the field where they spend most afternoons.

Once they get there James excitedly drops the brooms, and Regulus drops the supplies. James grabs the slightly larger broom because he’s a bit taller than Regulus and takes one of the quaffles. He mounts his broom and winks at Regulus before zooming away.

Regulus watches in awe as James glides smoothly through the air, the wind ruffling his unruly hair. James is a clumsy child, Regulus has observed this in the month or so they had known each other, however his grace on a broom is unmatched. He seems to instinctually balance the broom against the slight wind, keeping control of his movements in a way that should have Regulus envious of his skill, but instead he’s awestruck as James does a lap of the field before coming to hover in front of him.

James looks at him for a moment and Regulus can feel his cheeks heat because he knows he’s staring. He looks away and James laughs, but it’s kind, not in favor of making fun of his odd behavior. “Come on Reggie,” James says, smiling at him, “I’ll race you to the other end of the field.”

That has Regulus climbing on his broom and zooming after James, who had already taken off, the cheater. Using the broom is surprisingly easy compared to the one he has at home which is much older and for adults. Regulus has no trouble racing after James as he chases him around the field for hours, passing the quaffle back and forth.

“Hey Reggie, grab the snitch, I wanna practice my dives.” James says, sweaty and out of breath. Regulus feels momentarily anxious at the idea of James diving from the air, but then he remembers how graceful James is when he flies.

“Ok!” He says, already halfway across the field. He grabs the snitch from the ground, the golden wings unfurling in his palm. He regards it for a moment, looking at the way the sunlight glints off the golden ball, and thinks it’s beautiful. Then he lets it go and watches as it disappears.

He flies back over to James, who is scanning their surroundings with his hand shielding his eyes so he can see in the bright sun. His face is scrunched up as he squints to see the tiny golden ball. Regulus lets out an ungraceful snort that his mother would beat him for.

James turns to look at him, a mock accusing look on his face. “What?” He asks, and Regulus feels a smile light up his own face.

“I’m just surprised you can see, since your eyesight is so terrible even when you’re not staring into the sun.” He says, the smile on his face turning into a smirk.

James gasps in mock outrage, reaching forward to shove him, but Regulus flies away from him, shrieking in delight as James gives chase. As they chase each other around the field once again, a glint of gold catches Regulus’s eye from farther below them. It’s the snitch.

Before Regulus can even register what he’s doing, his broom is pointed sharply toward the ground as he dives for the tiny golden ball hovering above the grass. His surroundings blur and all he can see is the snitch fluttering tauntingly as he gets closer and closer.

The ground is approaching fast, too fast. He doesn’t think about that as his hand closes around the small ball and he tucks his arm to his chest, rolling off his broom before it can crash and landing in the soft grass, the wind knocked out of him.

“Regulus!!” James’s panicked voice shouts from behind him as he zooms into view. “Are you ok?!” James asks, quickly dismounting his broom and coming to kneel next to Regulus. James looks downright terrified, and with all the fuzzy energy and excitement thrumming through Regulus’s veins, he finds it funny. A loud laugh bubbles up and soon he’s absolutely cackling, gasping for breath.

James looks at him like he’s crazy before his lips start to twitch, and he too laughs. He collapses down next to Regulus, and they smile until their cheeks hurt.

“That was the most fun I’ve ever had James,” Regulus admits quietly, holding up the snitch in front of him, and watching the sun set over the trees in the distance. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t look at James but he can tell the other boy is smiling widely in that bright way of his. A warm hand closes over Regulus’s where he holds the snitch, and he looks over at James. “Anytime Reg,” he says, “keep that snitch. I have a feeling you might be a natural born seeker.”

When Regulus goes back to the summer house that night, he releases the snitch in his room and watches it zip around his ceiling, thinking of James and his bright smiles and warm laughter. When he falls asleep he dreams of laughter, smiles, and a warm hand holding his.

[idbetta-art]

My favorite senior couple 💍💕 /jk

[myrquez]

cant believe my delusional ass was the only one thriving while watching that bo-axe fight… tension was off the charts… they cannot tell me they haven’t been fucking at one point they were giving big petty exes energy

[saterise]

i havent seen naruto but i assume the two guys you drew are homosexuals

They are uwu (I’m delusional)

[ava-core]

re: Rory and Dinora

A cute scene that’s been stuck in my head since earlier this morning and fuck the episodes at this point I want to share them now

Context: Dinora’s been a vampire out of necessity (to save her mother, she made a deal with a lichen’s undead wife living under the bowels of Moonwood Mill) and Rory’s an alpha—we all know her story. Ever since Dinora came back from her job as a young surgeon, however, they’ve been at each other’s throats. Only now do they remember why the connection’s as strong as it is: Rory used to (and still does, honestly) have the biggest crush for Dinora back in high school, when she was still human, and she never really got over her. Surprise, surprise, so did Dinora.

[sodacowboy]

I think it’s funny that I usually Strongly Dislike childhood friends to lovers most of the time and yet that’s exactly what Sol & Lazul are

[homechashikjin]

Enemies to lovers trope have ruined some people heads cause why do people think that sexual tension and charged tension is the only way to show you have chemistry?? Why can’t chemistry be the comfort someone feels when they are around another person? Why can’t chemistry be having an awkward conversation after kissing your best friend since childhood that you have been pinning for for so long? Why can’t chemistry be breaking into laughter while having an out of this world experience with someone you longed to have ? I’m tired of people comparing polin and kathony saying kathony has better chemistry like they’re are two different circumstances. They are different love stories

[atrologynuances]

astrology observations pt1

(some are brutally honest and some are very very general)

all signs included!!

- cancer mars actually hate everyone in their head but will never show it.

- unevolved cancer suns are one of the worst friends along with leo suns, maybe is their need to shine brighter than everyone else

- libra mars, especially men, are scared to look weak in society so they’ll do anything in their power not to be in such position-it usually involves lying.

-people with saturn in the 4th house have had a rough childhood filled with limitations and oftentimes had to be displaced from their home at a young age.

-people with saturn in their 1st house do not really know how they look or their impact in society, some just exist if that makes sense.

-capricorn risings will go through hell and back before they find a lover, this is because their 7th house of relationships with other and open enemies is ruled by the moon which rules over emotions, and the moon is in detriment in capricorn.

-same concept with pisces risings, I find that they date people or might surround themselves with people that have a lower educational level than them (mercury is in detriment in their sign)

-pisces risings have the most beautiful captivating eyes yes, but they’re also pretty intimidating, an energy one cannot quite put their finger on, which is what makes it intimidating and scary.

-I know libra rules beauty, but all the libra risings i’ve met always had something off with their face (i’m so sorry). with them is more about the beautiful vibe they exude once evolved, as opposed to their looks alone.

-most scorpio sun men do look like rats, they’re small, talk fast, and have sharp teeth, or noticeable teeth.

-sagittarius seem to not like school that much or they really do, no in between.

-sagittarius sun men are the dirtiest men i’ve met, they’re also chronic liars and cheaters, and have the biggest victim complex. they will drop you if they think you bring them “bad luck.”

-most taurus sun women are opportunistic and liars, they have the face card for it though, which is why they always get away with it.

-taurus sun men are the creepiest people i’ve met, there is always something sketchy with them. the type that will love bomb you two weeks into the relationship and then drop you the week after if they don’t think you’ll be useful to them.

-leo venus, specifically the men, will never be satisfied with their partner long term. they tend to “settle down” with partners they’re not that physically attracted to.

-i’ve noticed that aquariuses, regardless of gender always have pretty long hair (please confirm if this is you or if you’ve noticed this as well). if they don’t have long hair they have an eccentric hair colors like fuchsia pink or neon green.

-aries sun men look musty, or at least the ones i’ve encountered.

-on the other hand, aries women are the most gorgeous people i’ve met, they have a tall pose that exudes confidence; they do tend to be two faced though, still very beautiful. also, they always work hard for what they got! “mama i’m the rich man” vibe.

-people with north node in the 1st yearn for relationships, even if they don’t admit it.

it never seem to happen for them romantically, or at least not until the second part of their life.

-people with venus in the 7th are either loved of hated by people, they are mostly loved depending on the conditions of their venus but there’s something about them people can’t seem to shake off (something positive).

-a gemini anything will scam you and you won’t know until two years later lol.

-seriously though, am I the only one that has noticed gemini suns (only) being favored by the universe when it comes to them seeing the consequences of their actions. they could do half of the world wrong, and will still come out winning in the end. this is why most of them go about life like there’s no tomorrow.

-virgo risings struggle with their health from a very young age.

-virgo venuses are quite captivating, I know venus is at fall here but their elegance will have you second guessing why.

-since we’re talking about virgos let me add that virgo suns are very consistent with how inconsistent their personality is. they’re also picky eaters.

-if the ruler of your 5th house falls into your 6th house you might be a controlling and manipulative mother.

Guide

[cupidsdolll]

The Feeling Came Late

Prologue

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem!sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter .5/? (wc: 1.5k)

masterlist

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Fond memories ignored, thrown away in a second as if they meant nothing to him. Like the years of laughter were all just a dream, but they’re not. They were real and it drove him crazy. Harry only stared at the wall, face red and tears streaming down his face angrily. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. He was angry, angry at the world, at himself because that was his best friend and at her. 

He was just a boy, a kid when it happened. Happy in his “prime years” of high school, he was thriving academically and socially. He was on top of his class work and one of the top students in all of his classes, alongside his childhood friend. They stayed friendly whenever they competed against each other, giving their congratulations when the other won in anything. Harry enjoyed the thrill of trying to be the first one to turn in his assignment though, he enjoyed the friendly banter they shared afterwards and during. It became their normal, he looked forward to it. 

Then it happened, and he was left broken. A shell of the smart and extroverted boy he once was. He can remember every detail of that day, he had just come home from hanging out with his childhood best friend – they had just gotten done studying and finishing the last episode of the season of their favorite TV show – when his mom walked alongside with him. The ride back home from her house to his was silent, filled with a sense of sadness and Harry couldn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. His mom was happy when she dropped him off at school that morning. She sat him down in their living room and said that this was important, and told him. She kept apologizing and trying to reassure him that everything was being done, tried, efforts were being done. They were going to fix this, help him. 

Of course, Harry’s just a kid who’s already dealing with all the new emotions of puberty and teenage feelings, so he screamed at her. Yelled something along the lines of “No, you’re lying and I hate you” but that’s still up for debate, he doesn’t think of this day often. He’d stormed away from her crying figure, her apologies are no good to him, won’t make everything better. He cried, screamed and threw things. He destroyed his room, tearing down pictures and throwing trophies, his vision was blurred from all of the tears in his eyes. He hated himself, it wasn’t his fault though. Nothing he could’ve done would have changed what happened, he couldn’t have stopped it. He knows that deep down, but he has to put the blame on someone, and it only makes sense that it has to be him. 

When he calmed down some, he’d taken all of his pictures off the wall, he couldn’t look at all of the times he was happy. It only reminded him of the feeling in his chest, and he stashed them all away in a box to be kept in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind he hopes will be the cause, but he kept two pictures. He couldn’t bear to have them forgotten, even if they were going to be locked away still. They were special, the people in the picture were special. They’ll always be special, so he cried some more as he placed them in his nightstand drawer. He spent the majority of the night crying, the tears seemed never ending and he hated it. He ignored his mom calling him for dinner and his sister who knocked on his door to check on him. She only sighed and reminded him that she loves him and will be there for him if he needs anything before she left him alone and headed back to her own room. 

Over time, he changed. It wasn’t gradual though, it was very noticeable. He stopped trying to compete with her, stopped trying to be the first anything. He stopped raising his hand, stopped putting efforts into presentations and powerpoints, stopped caring. He started getting into weed, he refused to try any of the harder stuff – not like his friends would give him any, they still had somewhat good morals and he also tried drinking. (A good thing about having older friends is the easy access to these types of things.) He stopped wearing soft and colorful clothes and started wearing darker clothes, jeans with rips in them and short sleeved shirts tight enough to showcase his growing muscles. He worked out more, wasn’t the lanky little boy she used to know anymore, his language expanded, started using more curse words and his tone grew disinterested and mean.

 He knew she watched him from a distance with sad eyes, he knew she tried to help him. He listened from his doorway as his mom talked to her, saying any excuse she can think of to not worry the little girl. 

‘Harry’s just not feeling very good, dear.’ ‘Harry’s just tired, he’s had a long day.’ ‘You know teenage boys can be difficult dear, he’ll come around soon,’ and other excuses were told to his friend when she came to check on him. He couldn’t exactly make out what the girl was saying in response to his mom, she’s always been such a soft speaker, and it upsets him more. He just wants to be left alone and she cares so much for him that she just want to help in any way,  and he doesn’t want to be rude and tell her to fuck off so he has his mom deal with it. She’s the emotional support thinker, not him. 

After a couple of minutes he hears the door shut so he closes his bedroom door and sits back on his bed, the two pictures laid out on his bed as a reminder of the love for his two closest friends, but also as a reminder of the pain he feels and the tears shed over something that wasn't his fault, the blame he put on himself. He sighs sadly as he looks at them once more before he gathers them and sets them in his nightstand drawer. He tries not to look at those pictures too often, he hates how they make him feel. Any time he looks at his best friend’s photo, it fills him with overwhelming sadness, bitter and hurtful. It fills his chest and makes him feel like he’s drowning in sadness, there’s sometimes a hint of anger but that’s never at him. It’s always directed towards himself, not his friend. He could never be mad at him, he was the closest guy friend he’s had and will ever have, he won’t have another one. When he looks at hers, it used to be happiness, love and adoration but it’s turned into anger and  jealousy. Her name will always leave a bitter taste in his mouth, his lips will always turn into a frown at the fleetest thought of her. 

He hates her, hates how smart she is, how she’s always somehow better at everything than him even when he spent hours working on something. He loathes how she just always knows what to say. He hates how she never fell off or even wobbled off the hill she was on no matter what was going on in her life. He dislikes how much he wishes he could be like that. He abhors how much even though he wants nothing to do with her right now that he still longs to be those little kids playing together and studying and gossiping. He especially hates how deep down he hopes that she’ll wait for him or beg for him to let her in, how he actually wants her to fight for their friendship. He loathes how much he misses her.

Instead of acting on those terrible ideas in his head on rekindling their friendship, he focuses on his popularity. High school ends and during the summer he experiments with his look, becomes a ladies’ man and immerses himself in that. He enjoys sex, the feeling of it all. The intimacy of something shared between two people, the feverish kisses and the sounds of his partners enjoying themselves. It’s a very good distraction from the one person who doesn’t seem to leave his mind. His reputation as a ladies’ man and a very skilled person grows, he becomes popular not only with the ladies in school but also with the fellow jocks of the school. He dabbled a little bit in the sports aspect of his education, he also tried out for the soccer team at his school. He’s always loved the sport, even as a little boy, something about the running and kicking balls amused him. He was also a pretty fast learner which helped his case a lot, but he still passed. He dabbled in a lot of different sports, not wanting to tie himself down to just one thing which applied to multiple different areas in the boy’s life. He tried anything to rid himself of one of the two names that haunts him no matter what.

[melrodrigo]

friends? - cairo sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: A new class leads to some heated feelings

Warnings: Finally wrote an enemies to lovers, they’re academic rivals ur honor, my writing, cairo being a meanie, quite an excessive use of italics

Word Count: 1k+

A/n: wanted to practice some, tell me what u think? do you want a part two?

“Cairo Sweet.” You read aloud, scrolling down your class list for the next year. Winnie —your best friend since childhood—laughs quietly at the sound.

“Funny name.” She mumbles when you quirk an eyebrow at her.

There was no reason to think ‘Sweet’ was a weird surname; however, Winnie, at the moment, was high out of her mind, so you let it go.

“Jacob Weinstein, Sophie Bell, Anthony Smith—god I don’t know any of these people!” You whisper, the slightest bit of anxiety creeping in.

Your first day is tomorrow, and you’ve sworn to yourself not to check who is in your specific class, wanting to try to spontaneously make new friends.

The keyword was try, because god you were bad at small talk.

Even in her mellowed state, Winnie could tell the nerves were settling in. She reaches out and draws you towards her, sitting so you’re facing each other, only a finger away from completely pressing into one another.

She swirls the lollipop in her mouth around, angling your head to look her in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it, please? It makes me sad to see your pretty face in distress.” She spoke evenly, making you feel like you had steady ground to walk on, helping you come back to earth. You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding.

“You’ve got to stop flirting with anyone and anything that moves.” You tell her, lightheartedly. She had helped taken the edge off, for now.

-

Bless her heart, Winnie’s reassurance lasted about until she left for her own home, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the big lonely house you had to call home.

It takes a book, or maybe two, for your eyelids to flutter shut, comforted by the smell of old paper and the feeling of coarse parchment.

Walking to school is no different. You listen half-heartedly to whatever Winnie decides to babble about this specific morning, your mind elsewhere.

As you near the doors of your next class, Winnie gives you a quick wink.

“Good luck soldier.” She says, smiling an almost teasing smile.

The minute you push open the doors you’re taken by surprise. It was fairly early, and though you expected no one would be there yet, there was a girl sitting smack dab in the middle of the class. Her head rested on her hands, staring blankly at the chalkboard in front of her.

You walk up silently to the desk behind her, far enough so you weren’t in the first few rows, but close enough that you wouldn’t be sitting with all the slackers in the back.

You slip out a book, kick your feet up to rest on the wooden table, and relaxed slightly. She seemed to pay no mind to you, and didn’t seem to want to pay any mind to you.

After a few pages in, you realize you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again, not quite comprehending the letters that now looked like a random jumble.

There was a sinking feeling starting in your stomach, as if something were twisting and screaming for your attention.

Table or chair, wind or sun—you couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was bothering you.

Your eyes wandered from the page to your surroundings, trying to pinpoint what it was.

You must’ve been making quite some noise, because the girl in front of you turns around, an obvious distaste on her face. The moment you lock eyes you feel it.

Ah, I know what it is now.

It seems almost silly to say, but you could swear, she was the root of your problems.

There was an almost inimical aura about her, the way she acts—the flick of her eyes, the slight clench in her jaw, her rigid robotic posture—was enough for you to cower.

Of course, you had never even talked to the girl, but you could tell all at once, you weren’t going to be good friends.

“Could you stop moving so much? It’s distracting me.” She tells you, in a manner too rude to be a real request.

Her eyes narrow when you don’t answer. You had elected instead to stare at her freckles, ones that littered her face. Not counting your current feelings for her, you couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

However, the way she was acting now was more than enough for you to be sure she was not someone friend-worthy, and you ignored her remark.

In a quiet retaliation, you wait till she titled her head back that you scratch the rug beneath you with the heels of your feet.

It creates a faint screeching sound. When the mysterious girl turns back once again, this time with fury in her eyes, you avert your eyes and look around the room, whistling.

You could tell you were pushing her buttons, but oh boy if it wasn’t just the most fun. If it weren’t for the sound of the door opening you’re positive she would’ve gotten up and confronted you.

In walked a short, scruffy, middle-aged white man whom you concluded must have been the teacher.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be in yet. Students aren’t usually thrilled to learn my class.” He said, sounding pleased with himself to have two new focused students.

“I’m quite excited to see how it’s going to go, I’ve never learned with a favorite author of mine.” The girl spoke, this time with no venom in her voice.

The professor let out a strangled sort of squeak, obviously caught off guard.

Great. She’s also a suck-up.

“Well, i’ll be damned. I’ve never met someone that’s read my book— other than my wife. Although I’m not sure if she even read the whole thing.” He said, failing to hide the excitement and disbelief he was surely feeling.

“I thought it was amazing commentary on modern marriages and love through difficult times.” She said, the light from outside lighting her hair up a lighter shade of brown.

Blah, blah, blah. Someone save me.

As if hearing your prayers, another student entered the room, effectively cutting off that godforsaken conversation. More pupils start filling up the class, and even though you can tell the professor wants to keep talking to the brunette, he steps up to the small platform.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr. Miller, and I’ll be teaching you english literature.” He announces, voice full. You can tell he’d practiced this beforehand.

Your plan to make friends, to both your joy and dismay, get crushed almost immediately. There are no group activities or opportunities to even speak to the other people in the class, all attention directed to the front while Mr. Miller scrabbles on the chalkboard.

The brunette’s name, you learn, is Cairo. She manages to be the first person to raise her hand, to challenge Mr.Miller, to question almost every single thing on the board.

And even though that nagging feeling you felt when you first saw her is gone, you let yourself dissociate and simply stare at the girl. If the class was going to be boring, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy, would it?

“Now, who can tell me exactly why Orwell chose to use these sets of words? What do they give to the overall tone of the book, umm-y/n?” Mr.Miller called, looking from his list of students.

You stir in your chair uncomfortably; you have not been listening to him. The air had turned very cold; your heart picking up its pace.

“I don’t know.” You mumble after a while of every face turned your way, impatience in their gaze. You shrink into your seat.

You hear a little scoff from ahead of you, coming from none other than Cairo Sweet.

You bite back an insult, and try to ignore the disappointed murmur that comes out of Mr.Miller.

Before you know it the hour is gone, and the sound of books stacking against one another breaks you out your daze.

Winnie’s waiting for you outside the door, quite creepily, you tell her as you walk together to your next class; a subject that you both have.

“So, how was it?” She nudges you lightly, smiling expectedly.

You flash her a tight lipped smile, then let it drop when you know she’d be able to see right through you.

You grip her arm and lean in closer, checking around you.

“There was this one girl, she was horrible!” You whisper, a new spark of energy flowing through you at the prospect of telling Winnie about it.

“She was the BIGGEST teachers pet, and she said something so rude to me before class, so like we were sitting and…” You continue to recount the story, trying your hardest to recreate Cairo’s glare.

When you get done, you turn to Winnie, waiting for her to join in on your gossiping.

“So am I going to witness an enemies to lovers type of thing right in front of me?” She sighs, exasperated.

You’re so shocked you don’t follow her into the class, stood rooted to the spot at the door.

“Wait, what?”

[vroom-vrooms]

So there’s Lando who is in love with Carlos, who have been together since the moment they met, but Carlos is also probably sleeping with Charles, even though their relationship seems to be falling to pieces, but Charles is also in love with Max, who is his literal soulmate and they’re obsessed with each other, but Max is also in love with Daniel, who was his older, cooler teammate who he pathetically fell in love with, but Max was also kinda in love with Carlos when they were younger, and now that’s over but Lando now has a weird thing going on with Oscar, who is his younger much calmer teammate, but Oscar has a thing going on with Logan, who is his childhood friend, and Logan is teammates with Alex, who loves his girlfriend but also kinda loves George, who is also his childhood friend, and George also loves his girlfriend but also kinda loves Alex, but George also has a weird thing for Lewis, who is his teammate and a big thing in f1, and Lewis had a lovers to enemies thing with Nico, who used to be his best friend, but he also had cute little thing with Seb, who was his rival but in a cute way, and Seb was basically married to Kimi, who had a soft spot for Seb, but Seb also had a toxic thing with Mark, the promising Red Bull driver that never accomplished what he wanted, and Mark was absolutely gone on Fernando, who was also absolutely gone on him, but Jenson was also gone on Fernando, who was his teammate at mclaren, and Jenson also could’ve had a thing with Seb and a thing with Nico, but—

PART TWO

[janicemarieaudio]

Okay, so I started watching the new Fairly OddParents show called “A New Wish,” and apparently it’s a semi-serialized series, unlike the original.

And I’m not sure if the new series will chronicle Hazel as she gets older, again, unlike the original series, but with the development that Dev has gotten with his relationship with Hazel, they’re definitely giving childhood enemies to friends to maybe even possibly lovers in the future.

I can see Dev develop (haha) a crush on Hazel as the series goes on, if it is actually gonna be a semi-serialized series.

Again, I don’t know if this new show will end up going that route since the series literally just started a few months ago, and the characters are 10-11 years old, but it would be pretty cool.

Also, um POOF- I’m sorry- PERI?! He’s a full blown adult fairy now! Also, why he looking kinda… 😳😳😳

[breadbrobin]

Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?

Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)

But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!

two hearts

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

summary: (as above)

warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)

word count: 3.5k

(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)

———————————————

if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.

you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.

when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.

“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.

“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”

“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”

and that was that.

it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.

monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.

sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.

you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.

the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.

you woke up abruptly.

at first, you were confused as to why.

then you saw the figure on the hill.

it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.

you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?

you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.

luke.

it was luke.

the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.

his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”

“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”

“they’re gone,” he said absently.

you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”

“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.

you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”

his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.

“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”

“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”

“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.

he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.

after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.

you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.

you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.

he didn’t stir.

it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.

sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.

a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.

you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.

“y/n?”

you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”

“where are you?”

you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.

when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.

“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”

and he did. he always did.

there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.

“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.

you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”

“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”

you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.

“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”

you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”

“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.

he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”

and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.

“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.

you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”

“missed me?” he half-grinned.

you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”

he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”

you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”

you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.

it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.

annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.

you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.

it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.

once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.

“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.

you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”

he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.

“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.

you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”

he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.

that was only the beginning.

within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.

“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.

“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.

you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”

“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.

“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.

finally, he was out of the infirmary.

finally, you could work in peace.

finally, you could— oh, what the hell?

“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”

you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”

“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.

you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”

“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”

you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”

“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.

“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.

“you can’t do that,” he gasped.

“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”

his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.

luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.

there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.

he probably did.

his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.

in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.

“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.

“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.

you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.

you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.

“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.

he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”

“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.

his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”

“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”

he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”

your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”

“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.

“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”

he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.

no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.

you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.

maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.

he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.

you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.

“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.

you stayed quiet.

“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”

you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”

he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.

you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.

“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”

“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”

he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”

maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”

he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”

you, you thought. you didn’t speak.

he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”

you swallowed tightly. “luke…”

he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.

“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.

your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”

when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

The enemies to lovers in me wants me to make an enemies to lovers AU of payneland, but they wouldn’t be enemies to begin with if they just fucking talked to each other. (Charles doesn’t like Edwin cause he looks stand off-ish/know-it-all — maybe he did something accidentally condescending — and Edwin doesn’t like Charles cause Charles doesn’t like him.)

Edwin gets bullied or insulted or something for being gay and of course Charles can’t have that, then Edwin helps patch him up because at the end of the day he’s kind to a fault, and now they’re both confused. Edwin stubbornly refuses to do anything about it because obviously Charles still doesn’t like him he just hates homophobia more. Duh.

And Charles has to consult with his friends (Niko and Crystal) about this guy he’s been borderline fueding with, but also he patched him up??? Niko, upon hearing Edwin’s name, immediately goes, “Edwin? As in Edwin Payne?! Oh my god! I haven’t seen him in years!!” Turns out Edwin is her childhood friend or something and Oh No™️, Charles has been fighting his close friends’ childhood friend! Over an assumption!!

Next time he sees Edwin he cringes because. Well. It’s just kinda awkward now. But Edwin doesn't really pick up on this and holds his usual cold, distant, haughty attitude; and gets taken off guard when Charles is like, “Um. I think we got off on the wring foot. My bad.” Insert slowburn, Charles falls first Edwin falls harder. (Yes, Charles is actively flirting with Edwin.)