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#“enemies” to lovers
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Hell Pride University AU: Charlie & Vaggie
Charlie and Vaggie are sitting out on the rugby field on campus. The "stars" are out for once as they just sit on a blanket on the grass. Vaggie pulls a half empty pack of cigarettes out of her leather jacket and lights one up.
Charlie: (nose wrinkles) You know those will kill you, right?
Vaggie: I don't remember asking the future Theater, Counselor, Vocalist, and Dance Technician for a diagnosis. (Takes a long drag that siphons half of the cigarette before blowing five rings in quick succession)
Charlie: (blushes at the sight of Vaggie's lips making a perfect O) You'd be able to run better during your training and rugby matches.
Vaggie: Again. Don't remember asking. (Takes another puff) You didn't have to come with me out here.
Charlie: N-No. I didn't, but I wanted to. Believe it or not, I do like hanging out with you. (Waves her hand in front of her face as a whisper of smoke floats her way) Even if you so smoke like a chimney.
Vaggie: Hmm.... (continues staring at the sky as she lays on her back)
Charlie: (sighs and pulls her knees up to her chest) I just.... wish you'd take better care of yourself.... You're really the first real friend I've had.... I don't want you to.....
Vaggie: (plays with the cigarette between her teeth with her tongue and glances at Charlie, the kicked puppy look causes a twist in her chest and she sighs) Alright. One sec. (Takes a deep hit and exhales a billow of smokel)
Charlie: What?
Vaggie: (snuffs out cigarette on her tongue, a flash of the steel stud in her tongue glints slightly in the far off glow of the parking lot lamps)
Charlie: (mentally) Holy fuck she has her tongue pierced! (out loud) Vaggie, what the fuck?! You're burning yourself!
Vaggie: (tucks the cigarette butt into her empty soda can) It's fine. I can't taste anything anyway.
Charlie: Not.... what I was getting at....
Vaggie: (hands the pack of cigarettes over to Charlie) Here.
Charlie: Vaggie, you know I don't smoke.
Vaggie: No. I know that. I'm giving these to you to hold onto for me. Quiting cold turkey sucks, so I'm giving these to you so I can only smoke when you're around and only when I'm at the end of my rope. Once the pack is gone, it's gone.
Charlie: (in awe as she takes the half empty pack) Really?
Vaggie: (blushing) Don't look too into it. It's not that deep.
Charlie: (sniffling and tearing up) Yes, it is! Gimme a hug, bestie!
Vaggie: (gets tackled back onto the blanket) Agh! Dammit! Charlie! Get off! Hahahahaha!
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ageofstarkey · 8 months
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untitled snippet: band!marauders x new-to-the-band!reader
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summary: You're James Potter's little sister and he asks you to join his band. Remus Lupin, the Marauders’ moody bassist, makes you regret agreeing.
content: bassist remus x singer/guitarist reader, potter!reader, "enemies" to lovers, mature content (alcohol, tobacco, and drug use, swearing, etc…)
note: hi so i've never posted any of my writing on here, but i recently started fleshing out this marauders band au in my free time, so i wanted to post a snippet to see if anyone like...actually would be interested in reading it if i were to write a Proper Fic™️
wc: 0.8k ish
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On one particularly late night, after a particularly infuriating comment from Remus, you snap. You stand up before he’s even finished speaking, letting your banged up acoustic clatter unceremoniously to the floor. Truth be told – you hardly even processed what he said, so irritated by the goddamn way he said it.
“Y’know what?” You’re overtired and practically seething, a half-smoked cigarette trembling between your fingers. “I’m fucking done. With all of this.” You toss your cigarette into the over-stuffed ashtray on the table, paying no mind to the way it bounces and falls, still smouldering, to the wooden surface below. “And honestly? It’s a real goddamn shame because I think you guys have something special. And I think we’d be really damn good together if he -” You jab a shaking finger towards Remus, who looked rather unmoved. “- wasn’t so fucking self-absorbed.”
James tries to defuse the situation, but you’re storming out of the room before he can finish a sentence, intently ignoring him on your way to the front door. You slam it harder than you mean to, shakily inhaling as you step into the chilly midnight air. With a trembling hand, you reach for the cigarettes in your pocket, sliding one hastily from the box. You feel the familiar sting of tears in your eyes, silently berating yourself for being so sensitive as they roll down your reddened cheeks.
Minutes have passed, and you’re halfway through your second fag when you hear the familiar creak of the front door opening behind you. With a soft sniff, you wipe hastily at the lingering tears on your cheeks. You look quickly over your shoulder, hoping for James and sighing quietly when you see Remus standing just beyond the doorframe. His hands are tucked coolly into the pockets of his jeans, and he stares at you unflinchingly.
You turn back around, taking a long drag from your cigarette before stubbing it out on the damp concrete. “If you’ve come out here to offer your two cents on my lyrics, I’m really not interested.” Your voice is clipped and steady when you speak, despite how badly you want to scream and shout in his stupid arrogant face.
His converse scuff lazily against the ground as he takes a few careful steps towards you. Your eyes remain intently trained on your boots, back firmly facing Remus and the house. “I didn’t come out here to talk about your songs, Y/N.” His voice is soft and your heart pangs strangely in your chest. You don’t say a word. He takes two more steps. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to apologize?”
You scuff the toe of your boot against the ground with a scoff. “Not really.”
“I didn’t think so.” Remus laughs softly, and you swear you can hear the smirk on his face. It’s infuriating how amusing he seems to find the whole situation. He takes another step, and suddenly you can feel his tall figure looming behind you. You want to turn around – you want to say something, but you can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. “Whether you believe me or not, I am sorry. I’ve been a proper arse and…” He trails off, evidently searching for his next words. Your heart thumps anxiously in the silence. “You haven’t done anything to deserve it. So I’m sorry.”
His words are followed by a long stretch of silence where neither of you speak. You open your mouth once, twice, trying to offer a response, but you come up short both times. Remus eventually speaks, his shoes scuffing against the damp ground as he takes a step back. “I’m not trying to change your mind or anything, but for what it’s worth, I think we’d be really damn good together too.” His voice is low, steady, and effortlessly confident. Without another word, he leaves, and you don’t dare breathe until you hear the front door shut behind him.
When you finally find the strength to stand, you walk home with your thoughts racing a million miles a second. Needless to say – you’re back at the Marauders house the very next morning. James – who’d been calling you all night, smiles with wide eyes when you walk into the living room behind Sirius. His shoulders drop in relief, and you almost feel guilty for intently ignoring each and every one of his calls.
Remus, in a surprising turn of events, is the first to speak. He’s sprawled lazily on the couch, a ring clad hand resting on his upper thigh. There’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and he wears a knowing smirk that makes you want to cuss him out. “Not giving up on us yet, hm?”
His stare doesn’t falter when your eyes find his, and you hate how quickly you look away with warm pink cheeks. “Don’t make me regret it, Lupin.”
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bamsara · 4 months
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"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years
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babsvibes · 9 months
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One of the funniest things about enemies-to-lovers ships is how they’re almost always obsessed with each other. Like if a character actively chooses to interact with another character over and over again instead of simply ignoring them? Throw darts at it all you want, but you still printed out a picture of them to hang on your wall
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socksandcrocs · 3 months
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Charlie would definitely make her dad participate in the hotel exercises lmao
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greykolla-art · 1 month
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Alastor: “Now, let’s talk about literally anything else please!”
Me: “Good! Cause I don’t know where you went so I can’t go further with this!😂”
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lesbianshepard · 7 months
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while frustrating, the funniest response to historical erasure of same sex couples is people wildly overcorrecting and assuming any interaction between two men in history was a secret homosexual relationship covered up by Big Historian. i saw someone on r/sapphoandherfriend sincerely ask if Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were lovers.
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elainiisms · 1 year
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i want you carnally *shoves a knife into your abdomen*
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inkskinned · 5 months
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in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!
they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.
they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.
you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.
but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.
where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.
and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?
doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.
but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.
what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.
just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?
your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.
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deboracabral · 2 years
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come get ya juice
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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months
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Behold! The Seventh Score. A wlw romance about two rival thieves who have more in common than they think. Layla and Rivka learn to get along under the cut!
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If you enjoyed this you'll probably like my other queer comics.
Tips are always welcome and appreciated on my Ko-fi! Comics are a labor of love and take a ton of time, thanks for enjoying!
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obamerzslop · 3 months
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Adam being jealous of a literal rubber duck, he's so stupid
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maiooo-0 · 7 months
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RAAAAAAH I LOVE THEM
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artofdyingslowly · 1 year
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enemies to lovers but with myself
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pocchi-poket · 4 months
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If my wife handed me my ass in combat and then kissed me after pointing a katana at my throat, I would recognize the gesture as the peak of romance it is and would fall even more in love with her. Rip to that guy Mizu married for like a year but I'm different.
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