#does anyone know Latin and can tell me if I’m brilliant or dumb

[exclusivelyhomosexual]

At some point earlier this morning I half awoke from my hydroxyzine coma and forced my limbs to function so I could groggily write down this sentence I had come up with that I believed was too clever to be forgotten.

I didn’t remember any of this until I opened my phone again a couple hours later when I was fully awake and out of bed.

#wtf #my brain is short circuiting #I’ve never even studied latin??? #am I secretly brilliant or an idiot #does anyone know Latin and can tell me if I’m brilliant or dumb #my brain does weird stuff in the wee hours of the morning #ipsi dipsui #oopsie daisy #Latin #shit post #brain #weird brain #weird stuff #sleep #sleepy #half awake #dreams #subconscious #hydroxyzine #groggy

[thecousinsdangereux]

fic preview: over the wide skies up above (and the earth below)

Pairing: Blake/Yang (RWBY)

Playlist: On Spotify

Notes: This is a preview of a thing that I may or may not be something I actually finish post ski!au. Basically, it’s all for @twelveclara who wanted a Greek Gods AU. You’re lucky I adore you, you dumb bitch. I’ll fix this up and write more for you some day. Happy birthday. <3

                                                           — 

She was picking flowers: roses, crocus, and beautiful violets. Up and down the soft meadow. Iris blossoms too she picked, and hyacinth. And the narcissus, which was grown as a lure for the flower-faced girl by Gaia. All according to the plans of Zeus. She was doing a favor for the one who receives many guests. It was a wondrous thing in its splendor. To look at it gives a sense of holy awe to the immortal gods as well as mortal humans. It has a hundred heads growing from the root up. Its sweet fragrance spread over the wide skies up above. And the earth below smiled back in all its radiance. So too the churning mass of the salty sea

[From the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, translated by Gregory Nagy]

                                                            —

They meet on a Sunday morning, on the first day of Winter, under a cloudy and snow-filled sky.

It’s a collision only barely avoided; she swerves, but the white petals still brush against her cheek, sticking out every which way and thus not as easily dodged as the form carrying them (barreling around the corner without any particular concern or hesitation). The juxtaposition hardly stops there, because the resulting stream of expletives feels in direct opposition to what follows it: an apology that —  when directed at her — sounds soft and familiar, despite the lingering profanities.  

The thought doesn’t make any sense, but she hardly has time to consider its meaning when it first hits her; it’s quickly followed by a scent — floral and strong and overwhelming — that hits just as hard, turns the world over on itself, shifts the seasons, melts the ice around them. 

“Shit, sorry! I’ve got so many of these fucking things that I can barely see and I’ve got to get them to the greenhouse in like five minutes and I’m really running late and are you okay?” 

The flowers — she can see them more clearly now: long-stemmed and white with a brilliant yellow center ringed in red — obscure most of the woman’s face. But her long blonde hair spills outside of the boundaries of the dozens of stems barely contained to the two large buckets she holds in front of her chest. Blake finds herself briefly distracted again (distracted from a distraction), this time by the looping curls, the different colors of gold that glint among the strands despite the overcast skies. But then the woman shifts, trying to see around the stems, and with the movement, a new wave of the scent hits her and it’s all she can think about again. 

“What is that?” 

“What’s what?” The woman laughs and finally pokes her head through the flowers. The bright smile that appears is one that Blake cannot differentiate from the first bloom of Spring. “You mean like, the daffodils or — whoa.” 

She can’t pinpoint the reason for the change, but something makes the woman’s eyes (the color of the sky at 5:30 am in the middle of June) widen when they first meet Blake’s. The surprise steals her smile, but it returns almost immediately, stronger than before. 

“Whoa,” she says again. “Where have you been?” 

Blake’s a college freshman — one who got a fake ID at 16 and has been to frat parties and bars and clubs — and so she’s heard the line before (or something like it, ‘all my life’ tacked on at the end), but she’s never heard anyone say it like this woman does. The emphasis is in the wrong spot, the tone out of place, the emotion behind it incomprehensible. 

(Stranger than all that, her instantaneous thought — one she only just keeps from escaping her own lips — is waiting for you.) 

“I — what?” she says instead. 

“It’s the day before Christmas break! I’ve been here all semester and I’ve never seen you before. It’s not that big of a school. So, like, where have you been?” 

The girl shifts her cargo to the side — as though to give herself a better view — and the warm leather of her coat, the soft wool around the collar, belong on her frame as much as the dark gold belongs around her neck (a woven scarf, color deeper than her hair). 

“Not in the greenhouse,” Blake settles on. “I didn’t know we had one.” 

“Yeah, I could have guessed that.” 

It comes with a laugh and Blake’s not sure whether to be offended or not, but the woman quickly continues, before Blake can settle on any one expression.

“The Botany program is pretty small. Not too many people other than us visit the far field, let alone the Greenhouse.”

“Botany?” It’s not what she expects, but it feels right. 

(Blake’s not sure how she knows what feels right. But she doesn’t question it either.)

“Yeah. Plants are sort of my thing.” The girl lifts one of the buckets as though to prove her point, and Blake is once again reminded. 

“Yeah. What are those? They smell — ”

(Perfect. Like something she’s been searching for.) 

“Really good right?” She laughs again; a breeze, but one strong enough to bend the trunks of trees. “Yeah, people use it in perfumes all the fucking time. But I think I like the pure version of it best.” Leaning forward, the woman tips the bucket in Blake’s direction, allowing her to get another whiff. “Poet’s Daffodil. Narcissus poeticus, if you’d be into me showing off.” 

She’s leaning in, breathing in deep, but her surprise at the name is such that it nearly sends her rocking off balance and crashing face-first into the delicate stems.

“Oh, you are into me showing off.” The woman shifts again, but the flowers can’t obscure the brightness of her grin. “Hold on, let me take some notes for future reference. Is it the Latin, foreign languages in general, or the vast depth of knowledge that does it for you?” 

“No, I — ” Blake barely recognizes the laugh that escapes from her own lips. “No, it’s just. I’ve never seen it before. The flower version of Narcissus, I mean. But I’ve read about it a hundred times. The man, at least.” 

The woman’s head tilts in thought, but her expression clears quickly.

“Mythology nerd, huh?”

“Classics major.” 

“Oh, super mythology nerd.” She tips the bucket forward again. One of the flowers slides against Blake’s cheek. “You better take one then. You can show it off to all your friends. Spin it however you like. Something like, you got a mythological flower from a mythological girl.” She pauses. “Okay that didn’t actually make sense, I don’t think. I meant like, you got a flower from a goddess. Because I’m like -- uh, I dunno -- what’s the hottest goddess?” 

“The last person who answered that question got into an awful lot of trouble, in the end,” Blake quips, but finds her smile aches. (She also finds she has an immediate answer, though it’s not one of the three that Paris had to consider in the contest that lead to such trouble for the Greeks and Trojans both.)

“I think I remember the basics of that one. How about you take the flower and my number instead of a golden apple and we’ll skip the bad ending.” 

It’s sudden, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like Blake’s been waiting for a while. 

“Forward,” she says despite all that, because it’s almost as though she has to. As though there are steps to take that she’s not allowed to skip, lest she upset a balance she wasn’t aware existed before now. 

It’s a dramatic thought; she’d laugh at herself if — when she reaches into the bucket to grasp one of the stems — she didn’t feel the world sigh in relief.  

“I’ve never really seen the point of wasting time.” The woman shrugs, tone and words light, but only in the same sort of way (required, practiced lines). “There’s just not enough of it.” 

“You sound like you’re a hundred years old and on your deathbed,” Blake laughs, but oh, her heart is clenching. And she’s taking out her phone. She’s making a new contact. She’s already thinking about the first time she’ll text this woman and she doesn’t even know her name. 

(There isn’t enough time. Somehow, she agrees, and that makes her want to get all of it in now, while she has a chance.)

“Or I’m someone who is very late in dropping off some daffodils that don’t really like the cold much. Even if I have a very valid excuse in wanting to stick around.” She pulls away with several long strides backwards; it seems genuinely regretful, but she brightens a little, seeing the flower clutched in one of Blake’s hands (and her phone in the other). “818-815-6247. Let me know if you want to see the greenhouse. Or tell me about the prettiest goddess. Or do anything at all.” 

She takes another step back and Blake nods twice, before realizing she’s missing something. 

“Wait! I’m — ” It comes out sounding a little more desperate than she would have liked, but then, the woman turns back towards her quickly enough for a single petal to fall off of one of of the flowers, so maybe pretenses aren’t really something either of them are concerning themselves with. “I don’t know your name.” 

“Yang.” It’s not the name she expects, but it slides into place easily enough. 

“Blake.” (Somehow, that’s not the name she expects either, even though it’s her own.) “I’ll text you. Call you. Soon.” 

“Good.” She catches another flash of that smile before Yang turns away. “And I’ll be waiting. Or —  trying to. I’ve never been very patient, though you’d think I would have learned by now.” 

“A lot of practice?” Blake calls after her, takes a step towards her (doesn’t notice). 

“Too much, I think.” Her laugh carries, blonde curls whip in the wind as she walks off. “So try to have mercy on me this time.”

Afterwards, she smells of daffodils (of dark green leaves, of a meadow that stretches on and on and on, of mint and hay and dirt and weeds and the whole of spring), as though it’s coming from her pores rather than the flower she places in a small glass on her nightstand. The scent persists through showers and nights out and all the smells that come with living in a coed freshman dorm. It lasts for days (or eons) and stretches back in time, too; she finds it tucked away in memories where it has no place, couldn’t possibly exist. 

(She’s five and her mom takes her to pick blueberries, she’s fourteen on a field trip to the botanical gardens, she’s seventeen and trying to find a perfume that suits her, she’s nineteen and stepping out of her late night Byzantine history seminar. And it’s there — it’s always there — just out of reach: the field over, the next flower, a slightly different perfume, a whiff on the wind that she chases across campus for ten minutes before giving up.)  

(She’s older — ageless — and she doesn’t recognize herself, but it’s there too.) 

The scent of flowers lingers and Blake doesn’t mind. 

She also texts Yang before it can begin to fade.

—

They first meet on Helios’s Day, on the morning of the vernal equinox, under a bright and clear sky.

She watches from behind the treeline, but even from a distance, it’s obvious, the way the ground rises to greet her when the woman walks past: stalks lengthening, flowers unfolding, grass brightening into a more vibrant shade of green with each step she takes. The world is in bloom and it follows the unspoken instructions of only one creature that roams its face. 

Hesitation is not a trait often associated with the gods, but the god of the underworld feels it now, unwilling to interrupt the celebration that the very Earth seemingly wishes to partake in, but desiring it all the same. She is used to the damp, dark coolness of the world below, and the sun always seems beats down with an unfamiliar and uncomfortable heat, but today it feels indomitable and irresistible. 

Today, she wants to step out into the light. 

Vines wrap around her as soon as she does — nothing binding or restrictive, but welcoming — a soft touch that greets her in time with the smile of the one who controls them. She does not appear surprised at the intrusion, nor displeased, but when she walks closer and white flowers — fragrant and familiar — spring up all around them, certainty sprouts as well. 

“The receiver of many guests. Giver of good counsel. It’s not often we see you up here.” The tone is teasing, different from what she typically hears, and it warms her cheeks, places a shade of color there that others would not recognize. (She barely recognizes it in herself.) “What have you come to the surface for?” 

She has an answer to the question, but it’s an honest one, not one she typically gives freely. 

She gives it freely now.  

“Sometimes, I miss being around things that are alive.” 

The goddess doesn’t belittle when she responds — though her smile stays playful — like so many others would. 

“I may be able to help you with that.” 

The ground shifts again and one of the flowers at her feet lifts, stem lengthening to four times what would be natural, until it’s sliding between her fingers, depositing itself in her palm, releasing itself from the Earth when she lifts it to her nose and breathes deep. 

“Everything dies when I go below,” she says softly, and with regret. 

“Not this.” 

She stares into the goddess’s eyes (crocus, monkshood, bellflower, wisteria, lilac) and believes her words, impossible though they are. 

“I’m Kore.” The name doesn’t quite suit her, though the king of the underworld had known it before now. “You should call on me whenever you want to feel something that is alive.” 

“And what if I feel that always?” 

Kore laughs. The whole of the clearing blooms. 

“Then you should call on me always, Hades. Whenever you please.”

—

There’s no need for any pretense. No desire for it, besides.

They graduate from text to voice quickly — within the span of a week —  and when Blake calls, Yang answers on the first ring. When Blake asks if she wants to hang out, Yang rattles off seven different options without pause. 

(“I’ve been thinking about what we should do together since we first met,” Yang says, not really an admission, not when the truth is so easily accessible.

“That was four days ago,” Blake feels she has to add, but Yang just laughs.)

Yang — without flowers blocking her face — is more beautiful than anything Blake’s ever seen. It’s more than the sharp cut of her jaw or the muscles of her forearm or the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles; Yang is attractive and anyone would agree, but it’s more than that. (Something curls in Blake’s stomach and settles in place at the sight, roots growing quick and deep.) And maybe it’s more for Yang too, because her expression — when Blake steps into view, climbing up over the crest of the hill that marks the start of the far field  — holds more than Blake can measure. 

College is strange, and the relationships formed within it, stranger still. She’d met Sun at a freshmen karaoke mixer that she’d been dragged to by her roommate, and in the span of a few hours, they’d gone through every stage of a relationship imaginable: strangers (the awkward first meet), rivals (when he and Ilia had picked the same song and Blake had been dragged along in solidarity), possible partners (when mixer had become unofficial and the alcohol had come out), and (finally) best friends (when the awkward flirtation and intoxication was behind them).   

But this — Yang taking her hand and leading her towards the greenhouse — is different, and that must be apparent to both of them, because Yang hardly looks surprised when Blake doesn’t step away, even once they’re inside. 

“Why botany?” Blake asks, tone softer than the question merits.

Yang’s lips curl and Blake gets caught on the corner like it’s a hook; she wants to press her fingers against the indent, and then do the same with her mouth.   

“I like making things grow. Wherever I go.” Her smile is unabashed, even when she continues. “Cheesy, I know. But I like making things come alive.”

(Blake thinks of vines growing in places they shouldn’t be able to, thinks of flowers sprouting from the cracks in pavement, thinks of the roots of trees spilling out over and digging into rock. She thinks — most of all — of Yang’s hands on all of them and on her as well, a different sort of challenge that Yang never took as such.) 

“It’s not cheesy it’s — “ As she searches for the word, Yang’s gaze does something similar with the planes of her face (searching, though Blake doesn’t think she finds what she’s looking for, and finds herself coming up similarly short). “ —  sincere? Earnest?” She shakes her head; neither are quite right. “Whatever it is, the world needs more of it.” 

The honesty doesn’t sound as sweet coming from her lips, but Yang doesn’t appear to mind. She smiles again, wider this time, and the plants around them pulse with a soft sigh, a tangible exhale of oxygen. And when Yang walks along the rows -- running her fingers gently along the leaves and petals and stalks -- when she speaks each of their names, Blake could swear the vegetation leans into her touch. 

The thought is less strange when coupled with her own: that she wants to do much of the same. 

She searches for patience, then. 

She’s had practice with it too. 

(She used to have more of it.) 

—

She doesn’t last long. 

But then, how could she? 

Only a week later, one of Yang’s friends throws a back-to-school party and Blake gets pulled along, as seems to be the new trend. 

(“It’s weird,” Yang says, much in the same way she always does, with a grin lighting her face. “She’s normally a lot more particular about her guest list.”) 

There’s alcohol waiting for them as soon as they walk in, and they each throw back a shot before moving any further, though the (surprisingly) fancy cocktail Blake picks up shortly after is one that she nurses for the rest of the night, at least until her hands find better uses. 

Yang’s hands find them more quickly than Blake’s; she’s tactile and gregarious and fun and she touches people as she greets them, throughout conversations, when she says goodbye. But she touches Blake most of all: her hand on the small of her back, her fingers threading through the hair that rests at the nape of her neck, her chin resting on Blake’s shoulder. 

It builds and builds and there’s not enough time and so Blake reaches down, tugs on Yang’s hand and pulls her outside. It feels like the only place they can be — tucked into the corner of the balcony of Yang’s friend’s lavish apartment with the night sky overhead — when she kisses her. 

There’s no surprise in the action, but there’s plenty of everything else. 

(Blake considers all the Greek words for affection, for feeling, for lust, for every form of love known to the poets, and disregards them all.) 

Her lipstick is dark, and it’s smeared over Yang’s mouth when she pulls back (later — that night and in the upcoming weeks and months and years — she’ll find it in other places: Yang’s neck, her thighs, her sheets). The stains Yang leaves is of a different sort, but Blake first notices it in the taste left on her lips. She runs her tongue along it, brow pinching in thought, and Yang laughs as she watches her try to figure it out. 

“Pomegranate,” she explains. “It’s the lip balm.” 

Blake can’t see how that accounts for all of it and kisses her again, just to be sure.

—

The first time they kiss, the world springs into revelry.

The humans flourish under the bountiful harvest; their yields triple, they write songs about the season, they throw feasts without excuse, and each of the gods benefit from an upsurge of tributes, from the smallest villages to the largest city-states. 

She hardly notices. 

Instead, she focuses on memorizing the way Kore tastes. 

 —

She meets a boy in her Ancient Greek Lit class, finds his translation of the first line of the Odyssey to be interesting. The word polytropos, he argues, should be taken as an active description; Odysseus is not controlled but in control of his fate. ‘Sing to me, Muse, of a compelling man; sing through me the story of a man who could shape the world around him’, the boy writes, and Blake gets caught on the intensity in his expression as he reads it, is taken by his confidence and passion (forgets to argue against the lengthiness and the clear liberties he takes). 

He greets her after class, suggests they study together sometime, and that’s what Yang finds them doing a couple days later, tucked away in a corner of the library, pouring over words translated a thousand times, Adam finding a way to disagree with every previous version of them. Yang slides into the conversation and the seat next to Blake without needing to be invited, her warm smile at ease even when Adam switches to Greek, speaks fast and condescending. 

“Well I don’t know anything about any of that,” Yang says easily. “But Blake told me that myths were supposed to be enjoyed by everyone, right? That they were passed on from generation to generation, like bedtime songs or campfire stories. Seems like getting all wordy and pretentious doesn’t really fit that idea, right?” She smiles, and Blake’s gaze shifts towards it, away from the clear ire in Adam’s eyes. “I’d go with Blake’s version.”

In the hour they’d been at the table, Blake hadn’t offered her own translation (hadn’t been asked), but it’s scribbled there, within the margins of the pages of printed out Greek, and Yang’s fingers brush against the pen strokes as she leans in, their shoulders brushing against each other. 

“Tell me about a complicated man,” Blake reads, voice soft. 

“Yeah.” Yang nods and completely ignores Adam’s glare. Blake finds doing the same to be easy, his magnetism fading away, swept aside by stronger forces. “Sometimes you’ve got to admit that something like that can’t be totally summed up in a word or even in a sentence. There’s something kind of beautiful about that too — I think — admitting the complexity in such a simple way.”

“I… think so too.”  

Adam doesn’t last for much longer, quickly tiring of not being the center of attention. He slams his books shut and shoves his chair out with force when he stands and Blake can’t remember what it was about him that appealed to her in the first place.

“I don’t like him,” Yang says after he leaves, a simple declaration as she steals a sip from Blake’s water bottle.

Blake blinks. Considers. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ll be studying with him again.” 

And she doesn’t. 

(It’s not normally that easy, she thinks, later on, and isn’t sure what she means by that at all.)

—

The humans tell tales about them, before their story is finished. 

Time is odd like that when you are immortal and infinite. Beginnings and ends and middles get jumbled in a way that they never do for those who have a life to live in a linear manner.  

It starts small: maidens whispering to each other, children making up rhymes, mothers telling stories to put their daughters to sleep. There’s a soft reverence in these traditions, and though she does not catalog the words they use, she picks up on the meaning. It settles in her chest — the warmth of it — different from the sort that presses at her heart when Kore is near, but significant in a distinct way. 

The tales change over time, warped by the teller and the listener alike, move further from the truth. But the humans could hardly know of the color of Kore’s hair, the tone of her skin, the color of her eyes, and what did it matter when the genders were confused or the courtship was pressed into a single day? The meaning persisted, the good intentions enough to sate the both of them. 

The stories lengthen, turn into poems, turn into songs, turn into performances, turn into epics. And one day Hermes tells them — amusement in his voice — that they have started to record them, to actually write them down.

But they carry on, much in the same way. 

What harm could human words -- written or no -- have on the lives of the gods?

#rwby #bumbleby #writing #this fic would be such a huge undertaking but here's a disjointed start just for you #Greek Gods AU #kinda #hfkjsadhfhalsd #gay egotistical bitches #Blake's translation of Homer is from Emily Wilson who we love and respect and admire in this house

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 228

Last time, Gohan “””fought””” Dabura, until Dabura suddenly took a powder and left.    Vegeta was already pissed about Gohan’s lackluster performance, but now he’s extra furious because he had to watch that turkey of the fight and it didn’t even accomplish anything.  

I know I already complained about Gohan vs. Dabura, but just to recap why the fight sucks:

Dabura made them wait three episodes before showing up to fight.

Everyone complained the entire time the fight was going on.

Nobody won.

So now we’re right back where we were five episodes ago, when Goku killed Yakon.

So tensions are running high in Stage 3 of Babidi’s ship, because they’ve been stuck there this whole time, unable to proceed with the mission.  So Vegeta takes out his frustration on Gohan, because who else is he going to yell at?   The Supreme Kai is God, basically, and Goku will kick his ass and he knows it. 

 Vegeta makes this a Saiyan thing, telling Gohan that he should have gone for the jugular in his fight with Dabura, and let nothing stop him from killing his opponent.  

“You’re right, Vegeta, I should have finished him off as quickly as possible.   Just like you did when you killed Cell.    Oh, wait, you didn’t kill Cell, did you?    You screwed around with him for twenty minutes, and then you let him become perfect because you were bored,” is what Gohan would say in the Sassy Gohan AU that I just made up.

Then Vegeta starts ranting about how dumb it is the way Gohan and the others fight for “justice”.   

Then he goes on about survival of the fittest, which is pretty cliche, even for Vegeta.  It’s almost like he’s auditioning for someone...   “You know, it’s a good thing I’m on your team.   If I was on Babidi’s side, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you all, and none of you would be able to stop me!     But that would never happen... unless...”

The only point Vegeta makes that really leaves an impression on Gohan is that he was fighting for the lives of Piccolo and Krillin.    Remember, they came here to kill Dabura, becaue that’s the only way to undo the magic that turned them into stone statues.   If Gohan had tried a little harder, if he had trained more diligently over the past seven years, they might be back to normal by now.

Goku sticks up for Gohan, but kind of half-heartedly, like he knows Vegeta has a point, at least to some extent.    But Vegeta won’t have it.   All he cares about is fighting Goku, and all he’s been doing is farting around on this dumbass spaceship because everyone’s too scared to blow it up.   

The Supreme Kai (once again) tells him not to do that, because if they accidentally break Majin Buu’s seal, he could destroy the whole earth, even at partial strength.   Vegeta flat out tells him he doesn’t care about the Earth or anyone on it.   

Finally, Goku steps in and tells him to knock it off, and Vegeta backs off.    I’ve never really understood this scene, but now I think I finally get it.    In the past, Vegeta wouldn’t just talk about blowing up the ship; he would just do it, in spite of anyone’s protestations.    Remember when he wanted to fight 17 and 18?   Everyone told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen, and no one could stop him, so he did it, to hell with the consequences.  

But in the Babidi Saga, he’s repeatedly suggested that Majin Buu probably isn’t that big a deal, and that they could settle this quickly by dispensing with the games and just blowing up the whole ship, and the Supreme Kai tells him not to, and he just backs off.    This is like the third time they’ve had this argument.  Don’t tell me Vegeta defers to the Supreme Kai, because I don’t buy it.   

I think what we’re seeing here is some of the maturity Vegeta has learned since he first started living on Earth.   He still wants to take the direct approach, and to shout down anyone who says otherwise, but deep down, he knows that’s unwise.  It bit him in the ass against Android 18 and Cell, and on some level he knows it could work against him here.    That’s why he threatens to blow up the ship, but he never actually follows through.   He’s waiting for Goku to stop him.

Meanwhile, Dabura has returned to Babidi with the idea of turning Vegeta against the others.   Babidi’s been watching them in his crystal ball, and he likes what he’s seen.    Vegeta’s not like the others, and it’ll be easy to control him, and it’ll save him from having to risk Dabura’s life in battle.  

On Stage 3, the Supreme Kai starts to suspect that this is what the bad guys are up to, but it’s too late.    Babidi casts his spell and Vegeta starts grabbing his head and crying out in pain.    Also he poses like a complete diva, because he’s still Vegeta, after all.

Vegeta turns Super Saiyan for some reason, and the Kai tells him what’s going on.   Babidi’s trying to exploit the wickedness in his heart, so he should empty his mind and not think of anything.    Not even the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man?

Now, later, Vegeta will claim to have fallen under Babidi’s spell intentionally, but it seems kind of at odds with this scene, where he appears to be resisting Babidi.  

But Babidi seems confident that he’s already won.    Kind of weird how he says Vegeta is “ours” now.  Who else is he referring to?   Dabura?   The rest of his crew?  They’re all mind-controlled slaves just like Vegeta.   But Babidi seems to be rather cordial toward his henchmen, treating them almost like friends.   I suppose he would enjoy their company, seeing how they wait on him hand and foot and cooperate with him in everything he does.  

Having secured Vegeta’s mind (I guess?), Babidi starts amplifying his power.    Remember, Yamu and Spopovitch were much stronger as Babidi’s minions than they were before, so this is apparently a side effect of the spell.   

But Vegeta was already one of the strongest guys on this whole show.   If Babidi can make him even stronger... hoo-boy.

And when the whole process is finished, Vegeta ends up with an “M” symbol on his forehead.   In the dub, they actually call it an “M”, I think, and Shin explains that it’s Babidi’s symbol.   The Japanese version doesn’t bother with this, probably because by this point we’ve already seen the “M” on all of Babidi’s stuff.   All his henchmen have it, it’s on his belt.   It’s printed on the hull of his spaceship, on all the doors, and on all of his equipment. 

Fans call this incarnation of Vegeta “Majin Vegeta”, although I’m pretty sure that’s not official.   “Majin” is a term for Buu specifically, because he’s an evil djinn.    Evil = “Ma”, “Ma” + “Djinn” = “Majin.”

As far as the symbol goes, I’m pretty sure it’s intended to stand for “Madoshi”, which is Babidi’s title.   But this never gets spelled out in the source material, perhaps because Babidi’s from outer space, and it wouldn’t make much sense for him to use the Latin Alphabet for his monogram.     In-universe, it’s probably just an alien glyph that just happens to look like a stylized “M”.   

The other thing is that you rarely ever see anyone refer to any of the others as “Majin”.   No one talks about “Majin Puipui” for instance.    I did see that once on an ad for a DBZ wall scroll, which featured all of Babidi’s gang.    for some reason, the ad copy listed them all as “Majin Buu, Majin Vegeta, Majin Dabura, Majin Puipu, Majin Yakon, Majin Yamu, and Majin Spopovitch.”   It’s like they were getting paid by the letter.   But that’s about the only time I’ve seen that.  

The Supreme Kai is all upset because he never expected this to happen.    There’s a lot you didn’t expect, Shin.   You kind of blew this whole mission.

Then Babidi teleports them all to the Tenkaichi Budokai stadium.    I’m not sure how he even knew about this place, unless he read Vegeta’s mind or something, but this is convenient, since the show has been switching back and forth between these two sets of characters.   Mr. Satan is in the middle of celebrating his second world championship victory, and the crowd is going nuts.   

Chi-Chi is pleased about this, because she thinks that if Goku beats the shit out of Mr. Satan right now, in front of everyone, then he’ll have a valid claim to the prize money.   Yamcha’s pretty sure it doesn’t work that way, but Chi-Chi’s pretty sure this is C-Z-fuckin’-W.    She wants Goku to drop Mr. Satan through a table covered in light poles.

The World Tournament Announcer is confused, but he sees Goku and just walks past Vegeta while he explains that the tournament’s already over, and that’s what sets Vegeta off.   Okay, so that’s brilliant, because he’s literally standing there, glowing yellow, and all WTA can think about is chatting with Goku.     That’s just Vegeta’s frustration in a nutshell.   

So Vegeta powers up, and his aura is so intense that WTA and Mr. Satan get pushed aside.

Satan crashes into the retaining wall, and I feel like that’s the second or third time this has happened to him today.

So Babidi’s all set to take this dude for a test drive.    First order: Beat up Goku, Gohan, and the Supreme Kai and take their energy for Majin Buu.

Vegeta’s reply: Fuck you sideways, Babidi.   All he wants to do is fight Goku.   Period.  

Babidi’s shocked, because this has never happened before.   Vegeta isn’t entirely under his control, but he figures that he can still work with this.  

Meanwhile, Mr. Satan finally realizes that these are the guys from the Cell Games.    You’d think he would have caught on before now, but Toriyama did a pretty careful job of keeping Mr. Satan away from the other tournament participants until the Z-Fighters left the stadium.    He only knew Goten and Trunks had super powers, but he didn’t realize that his opponents in the adult division tournament were part of the same group.   But with Vegeta in full on Super Saiyan mode, there’s no mistaking it. 

Just so there’s no confusion about Vegeta’s priorities, he points at Goku...

Then fires an energy blast at him.   Maybe this is Big Bang Attack?    I don’t know.    Goku blocks it...

But he can’t stop it from hitting the stands.

And it blows right through the crowd, and through several buildings along the way.  

Fortunately, Goku’s pals are in a different part of the stadium, although Bulma might wish it were otherwise.    She’s so horrified by Vegeta’s actions...

... that she faints.   

So yeah, there’s no room for interpretation here.   It’s about to go down.  

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #babidi saga #goku #vegeta #gohan #supreme kai #babidi #dabura #piccolo #krillin #mr satan #world tournament announcer #bulma #chi chi #master roshi #puar #yamcha

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Twenty-Five: The Wicked and the Divine”

Jughead has seen more “mob movies” than I have, so I can’t verify his “classic trope,” but he’s speaking my language

I found Archie’s Devil Wears Prada errand-montage zippy and playful, much like Hiram Lodge himself

especially the direction of the construction guy’s arm clapping Archie’s shoulder to add movement to the swerving transition (not a technical term) as he steps into the trailer

Hiram’s soft V-neck sweater is, I assume, cashmere

Veronica’s look is so inseparable from collars and pearls that she has a collar made of pearls sewn into her dress

RAS wanted a Veronica-confirmation episode, so by God, he is getting one, and Veronica’s age be damned! Hiram and Hermione wanted “the same monsignor” from Veronica’s baptism, who I guess has been on leave at the Vatican for five years okay!

Archie wants to know if Veronica will have “to memorize stuff”

Veronica’s confirmation sponsor is her grandmother, which is par for the course, as is volunteering at a soup kitchen for her like 8 hours of required community service. I also had to write a report on Saint Lucy and pray a rosary in front of an abortion clinic. Veronica probably won’t have to do that, since you can’t say abortion on Riverdale

do soup kitchens have any actual paid employees, or are they all stocked with kids who just need volunteer hours/Matthew Goode’s character from The Good Wife in his spare time wearing that blue sweatshirt to characterize him as being “just that nice”?

Hiram is such a fucking soap opera star when he says Veronica has made him “the happiest father ALIVE.” like, alive?

“ISN’T SHE A MIRACLE?”

on FP’s kitchen table is the same kind of half-gallon of milk that Jughead was drinking from the morning after his birthday party. the Andrewses kept a spare half-gallon of skim milk just for Jughead in their fridge? the nicest thing Fred ever did for him

Jughead doubts it: Jughead is VERY sassy with Sheriff Keller and FP loves it!!!! because Jughead can have an anti-authoritarian ’tude WITHOUT NECESSARILY being “a gang member” at that particular moment!

FP is so crisp and put together! FP looks GREAT! what up though, Gladys?

wow I can’t believe Jughead’s article wielded so much political power that its legal ramifications echo throughout the entire episode, as if Jughead were Nellie Bly

“CAN I GET A QUOTE?” this is the Jughead that FP plainly adores

Jughead and Betty both drink skim milk, so, their wedding will be soon

are men on webcams actually fool enough to ask the webcam girls if they can MEET IN REAL LIFE? I have no knowledge about this world, but I would imagine the answer would be “Have you ever seen a film, ever?”

50 Shades of Betty: Betty looks pretty great in that severe black fucking wig and I still want an apology from Chuck specifically about dissing the wig

“Catholic chic” means veils optional, like the stole in black tie

What damn high school in America: Jughead doesn’t have to wear the preppy Lodge uniform, I see? shame

Best costume bit: Betty’s heart sweater is possibly my favorite thing she’s ever worn. I want it BADLY

ARE YOU TELLING ME HIRAM LODGE WANTS TO SUE A HIGH SCHOOL NEWSPAPER?

“DEFAMATION OF CHARACTER”? IS THERE SOMETHING HE WROTE THAT WASN’T TRUE? ARE YOU ~NOT~ BUILDING BOWLING ALLEYS ON NATIVE AMERICAN LAND? I will fucking suit up and be Jughead’s lawyer on this. as has been demonstrated, I have seen every episode of The Good Wife and can probably practice law in Illinois (for instance I know that in Illinois you only need one-person consent to secretly record a conversation)

I love Betty and Jughead being in the same room, of course, but Betty’s gentle, poking “And...did you?” is EXCEPTIONALLY cute. Betty is so cute. and sometimes scary

Jughead’s least clueless moment of the season so far is him looking back knowingly at Betty when she says maybe he would do it to “avenge Toni’s grandfather”

“WE’RE PALS.”

Jughead kind of looks great leaning against the window. like the lighting or something. God, please let me one day see the two of them making out with Betty in her cheerleading uniform

okay, I thought Betty and Jughead, IT WAS IMPLIED, had already had sex, because I was shown them waking up together after they had slept together in the trailer. apparently they LITERALLY slept together. APPARENTLY THEY HAVE NOT HAD SEX YET. I should have known, from the sleeper biceps, that Jughead was still pining IN THIS WAY, FOR THAT! I should have KNOWN Betty had not RIDDEN JUGHEAD INTO THE SUNSET YET. fuck! what am I doing!

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: I also emotionally defend Betty’s ecru lie about not having “done anything” with anyone since the breakup since, as one will recall, immediately after her and Archie’s kiss they stared in horror at each other and have not talked about it since, thus cancelling it out as a real kiss (this is also a statute of Illinois law)

Hermione Lodge has some sort of skinny gold Lothlórien belt on over her deep merlot blazer

Archie > Dawson: Archie is sweet when he apologizes for making Pop double-check the order: “It’s more to make sure I get everything right.”

Archie hears Pop’s slip about Hiram being “the boss,” but other things happen and he FORGETS! at what inopportune time will he remember? when he’s physically embracing Jughead Jones?

although couldn’t Pop just play it off like Hiram is Archie’s boss? think on your feet, Pop

for the record I love Agent Adams and his whole deal. his plan is so insane that it might be brilliant. I just do still wish he were being played by either Sterling K. Brown or Max Greenfield

he doesn’t appreciate Archie’s attitude: “Is there a problem?” yeah, uh, Archie’s like twelve years old and not a trained undercover field agent? I love this stupid shit

oh, everyone’s being evicted from Sunnyside? if only Jughead hadn’t driven the southside’s only lawyer out of town with Kenickie Murdoch’s switchblade

OH MY GOD HERMIONE’S PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

according to everyone’s facial expressions, Veronica is under the impression she is doing good political maneuvering inviting the McCoys to her confirmation, Hermione is stunned she did so, Veronica really wanted to sing a solo, and Josie doesn’t know why she has to fucking apologize for anything

Josie being Veronica’s “gift” from Mayor McCoy is horrifying

Sixth period is Intro to Film: Cruel Intentions is a fantastic Catholic standard, containing as it does cocaine, “experimental” girl-on-girl French kissing, Ryan Phillippe’s ass, the line “I'm the Marcia fucking Brady of the Upper East Side and sometimes I want to kill myself,” and implied step-sibling fucking, all of which I think Riverdale should include more of

the blue and red lighting inside the Wyrm is still nice. does the Wyrm even count as a dive? strippers probably wouldn’t waste their time at dives

wow there are some true beards in this crowd

okay…..the idea that Tall Boy is a better suspect than Jughead…...because he’s physically taller…..is singularly the most fantastic thing…..I have ever heard…..

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: the sound of Archie shifting on the leather of Hiram’s couch is real good

“I RESPECT A MAN WHO WOULD GO TO SUCH EXTREMES.” HIRAM PLEASE!!!!! ARCHIE IS TOO DUMB FOR THIS!!!!!!

Gay?!: Ben? who the fuck is Ben? who is BEN? who the fuck?

OH MY GOD Jughead got in to see the mayor AGAIN! is Ethel Muggs her secretary???

Jughead interrupted Mayor McCoy eating her salad at her desk

for like the third time in the series she says she’s “always liked” Jughead, which, fat lot of good that’s done him

in Riverdale there is a red uniform at the soup kitchen, because even THE POOR must abide by aesthetics

Archie doesn’t know what cutting cigars means

Archie’s shoulders are nice under that polo

Betty’s plan about “treat it like a missing person’s case” and making it like this snooping Blue and Gold intrigue thing is of course welcome as a pretense for the two of them working together (on the show’s part), but in reality it’s just the fucking bare minimum that THE AUTHORITIES should ALREADY BE FUCKING DOING THEMSELVES

at this point I went to bed and had a very gripping, sexy dream about Veronica and Jughead. Veronica and Jughead

“Damn good coffee”: Hiram floating having to “bring Archie in” on the Lodge Family Tammany Hall is only slightly less absurd than the Federal Bureau of Investigation having already done so. what does Archie need to be brought in on, exactly? he’s just Veronica’s arm candy. he barely knows what a cigar is

while it is STILL ODD that Veronica has done a 180 on her accepting her father’s criminality, she still holds Archie up as a beacon of goodness, because, like I said, shoulders, polos

Jughead’s “order of the Ophidians” as he tapes up the Missing poster is either, so far as I can tell, an extremely obscure MMORPG reference or he’s just calling them snakes, but like, in Latin

Penny didn’t die of gangrene from her blistering wound like on the Oregon trail? probably a plus

FP is in some deep pain here. this is so far beyond his worst fears about Jughead joining the Serpents that he like never even fucking considered—I NEVER FUCKING CONSIDERED IT, IT WAS FUCKING RIDICULOUS

I certainly don’t think Penny’s terms are like, PARTICULARLY OUT OF LINE

ooooh Jughead’s little snipe at his father for fridging Jason!

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH “YOU WILL BE THE DEATH OF US,” THE ANGUISHED REALIZATION IN FP’S EYES, GLADYS STAY AWAY!!!!!

I can’t believe the sixth season of The Wire takes place in Riverdale and doesn’t even have Sonja Sohn playing Agent Adams

Alice’s angel wing-white Founding Father blouse and Betty’s textured peach sweater

Hal is REALLY skittish about Chic, considering that HE’S HIS SON, SO FAR AS WE KNOW. but Hal hordes important information until the bitter end, so he probably just knows some shit

The Blossom Whoever the fuck’s spawn: “He’s a stranger. That’s my beef.”

“It’s been ~some time~ since my last confession” is usually the most accurate clocking I could give as well

I love the very dangerous clusters of candles inside the confessional

These students are legally children: NO ONE is helping Veronica. Veronica is trying to “find her thing” like, in the dark, lit by votive candles

I loved the circle of beautiful mob wives drinking wine and talking about how praying to “the Almighty” for “forgiveness” makes them feel better #aspirational

Hiram isn’t fucking around with Mr. Man “disrespecting Pop Tate.” Pop Tate is an angel, doing his best out here in a chaotic world. his poutine is probably great!

Archie’s stuck using the wrong kind of plunger

Poppa Poutine says Hiram lost his “mojo” in “the joint”

is Poppa right? is Hiram weak? if you subtract the Andrews boys, he doesn’t seem to have any problems

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie is back with killer witchy earrings, a lovely dress, and a fierce hold on the remainder of her personal agency

of course it’s “Bitter Sweet Symphony” but with harps. you know the Verve doesn’t get any royalties from that song? are the Rolling Stones the worst band in the world?

I LIKE THE SWOOSH FROM LARRY OR WHOEVER AND POPPA BACK TO ARCHIE WATCHING THEM

the back of the church is bathed in purple, the altar is yellow, the monsignor is in BRIGHT PALM SUNDAY RED, and this is what church should have always been like

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Hermione’s strong-shouldered structured white jacket is amazing and Jughead forgoed his hat, to be respectful

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: slightly strangely, Cheryl isn’t there at all this episode, but what we are truly robbed of is seeing what she would have worn to the confirmation

Veronica has a SUPER-SWEET very light pink/purple manicure!

Summer + Blair = Veronica: you better believe when Veronica was asked if she renounced Satan I was like, IS SHE GOING TO LOOK AT HER FATHER AND STORM OUT OF THAT CHURCH????? I THOUGHT SHE MIGHT!!!!!

instead I got an amazing thematic light show about Veronica choosing to believe in Archie’s unflagging internal compass and following his light (“the light of the Lord”!)

HE GIVES HER A TINY HAPPY NOD WHILE SHE’S THINKING, LIKE “YEAH BABE I KNOW YOU RENOUNCE SATAN!!!!!”

Veronica was rich: Veronica does look like a fucking angel up there

wow, Dilton isn’t DJing the afterparty? weird

why are Betty and Archie standing together AT ALL?

Abuelita is 100% right about pinching Archie’s cheek and Archie goes with it because he is respectful

Jughead eats: Jughead is so tormented he neglects the buffet!!!!!!

Jughead’s suit is very nice. I like the progression of his wearing better and better suits

Betty takes the news of Jughead’s CONFESSION that he “cut” Penny pretty stoically, as she did boil a guy once

POOR JUG IS RIGHT, IT DIDN’T EVEN MATTER!

Closed Captioning tells me the junkyard guy’s name is “JUNKYARD STEVE,” MY MAN

“If only we lived in a town where the answer could be no.”

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Jughead in his leather jacket OVER HIS SUIT JACKET is pretty good!

“BY ANY CHANCE WAS THIS GENTLEMAN TALL?” OH MY GOD!!!! CASE FUCKING CLOSED BOYS!!!!!!!

Hermione hauling Veronica back for the photographer

Archie looking up from behind the closing art deco elevator doors

The female gaze: Archie is of course so handsome and perfectly proportioned in his suit. his handsomeness is such a given that I take it wholly for granted, like how when not suffering an allergy attack I can breathe from both nostrils but when one hits and I’m sneezing up my guts I’m like, air coming in from both nostrils? true bliss, I’ll never forget it again

God, did he get rid of his tailored cranberry Blossom suit? not the WORST crime committed in Riverdale, but probably worthy of eviction

Fifth period is AP English: as @hangingonyourwords noted, Archie knowing the word “coup” is VERY surprising! GOOD, ARCHIE

Hiram Lodge is, I think, listening to that song from Carmen while pouring himself a stiff drink, the massive Rory Gilmore portrait of Veronica over one shoulder and the blue light of an antipodean sea streaming in over the other, using a rotary phone to call in A MURDER

Tall Boy having to suffer interrogation by Jughead, whom he surely must have always despised, is his final indignity 

Jughead calls Betty “one of us,” which has not been given enough fanfare by ANYONE in the show! Betty is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT as much a Serpent as Jughead, unless Jughead’s mother is a Serpent, except that she hasn’t had to shout their stupid rules into someone’s face yet

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: “YOU HAVEN’T ANSWERED MY SON’S QUESTION.”

the poor Serpents have been twisted around rich northsiders’ fingers for so long that they don’t have any fucking idea what to be doing when NOT at the behest of a blackmailer or bribery. I don’t know what it means to be a Serpent except that it means you’re poor and comely. and VERY civic-minded

“You’re a Judas, Tall Boy. And an idiot.”

Gay.: Sweet Pea raises both his arms to vote

FP’s gonna run Tall Boy out of town. a word of advice: one town over is not far enough

hell, Archie’s seen all those mob movies too! he and Jughead must’ve watched them together while Jughead was sleeping in his bedroom

Archie’s speech to Veronica is GOOD, ARCHIE, and what Veronica gets out just reinforces my thought that Hiram is literally starting a second town under Mayor McCoy’s nose, which would concern me expect that it has been definitely shown that even after things are executed on Riverdale I confuse myself and am invariably exactly wrong

I would probably kiss Archie too if he looked at me like that and said “I’m with you,” which I think explains Betty

HAHAAAAAAAAAAA OKAY!!!!!! SOMETHING IN THE WATER IN FP’S TRAILER

Jughead’s suspenders? a startling plus!

I like the quietness of “Maybe we can ask Veronica on Monday.” it reminded me of Archie’s face-saving some-other-time-definitely promise to go to the library with Jughead

“Maybe we should just investigate quietly until we know more.”

BLESSED BE THE CHILDREN and Jughead’s brusque scoff at himself for saying “my darkness”

in a move that the last few episodes haven’t shown him as having enough sense to make, Jughead puts his hand, not on Betty’s hand, but directly on the skirt of her dress

also Jughead knows that dress zippers have a point where you think it’s gone all the way down but really you’ve got a little further to go otherwise you can’t get the waistline over the hips? Jug’s got a little bit of game going on!

I like the silhouette of Jughead’s Adam’s apple

while Jughead is doing an excellent job delicately checking in with Betty’s sacral chakra, with his bare hand, I don’t want to overlook either his own gently crossed ankles as he holds her or his AMAZING SOCKS

when Betty tells him she needs to tell him something, he EXHALES a “What?” before he says “What is it?” WHOOP

she is missing a pretty sick meatloaf or pork of some more at her mother’s dinner table

I didn’t think there was a physiognomically scarier white guy around than Chic himself, but I was wrong!!!! it’s definitely that guy at the door!!!!!!

oh shit, Archie sort of got somebody (else) killed. this is like when Jughead didn’t mean to but definitely got somebody’s face beaten in by Tall Boy and Serpent Baby—holy shit what happened to that kid!!!! where did Serpent Baby go???

Certified pedigree: OKAY SENDING THE STATUE HEAD TO HIRAM LODGE VIA A CONFIRMATION “PRESENT” TO HIS DAUGHTER IS A PRETTY GREAT MOVE. I ASSUME THIS WAS YOU, FP JONES. FP IS REALLY GOOD AT PUTTING WORDLESS THREATENING MESSAGES INTO BOXES

in the shot bingo of Riverdale, the middle box would have to be Betty coming through her front door and pausing because she hears something suspicious

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: the squishy sound effect of the rags on the wet floor? her perfect hair? her bright blue turtleneck? “Elizabeth, did you lock the front door?” Alice is already three steps ahead!!! Alice Alice Alice!!!!!

Alice and FP have now both cleaned up somebody else’s murder’s cranial blood (I’m assuming Chic clocked this guy, which means it was probably Melody), further proof they belong together

Please protect Betty: Betty fucking Jughead probably saved her life

Next week: Cheryl shoots a bow and arrow!!! into my heart!!!!!!!!!

#i say #commentary #riverdale #tropes

[5hfanfiction]

there's nothing like me and you (and you know it)

there’s nothing like me and you (and you know it)

–

Famous Lauren sets up a dating account and uses her real picture. Camila meets up with her after the site matches them, thinking that she’s definitely going to get catfished.

Hit me up at jaureguicabello5eva on ao3/wattpad

–

Lauren has been looking at her computer screen for a good twenty minutes and she’s ready to call it quits and succumb to her ultimate fate of never finding anyone. She thinks she’ll be fine growing old alone with just her two cats if she doesn’t have to talk about what she likes to do in her free time ever again. Because now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t have much free time in her lifestyle anyway and so when she has a cleared schedule for the first time in almost two whole years, it’s like she’s forgotten how to function like a normal, social person.

She just finished her worldwide tour and has been give a couple months of break before she has to be back in the studio and although she’s thoroughly enjoyed it thus far, she was also reminded of just how single she is. Her best friend, Dinah, tired of her dramatics and constant complaints about being single finally pushed her to make a dating profile online because you never know, Laur. There are success stories in those things too, you know. Your last real relationship was your cheating ex and it’s time you get him out of your system, girl!

The raven-haired girl thought about it for a while and figured she doesn’t have much to lose.

What are your hobbies?

Lauren thinks about what she does when she’s not on stage or the studio or writing music. She wiggles her fingers, hovering just above the keyboard of her laptop as if that’s suppose to help her type up her profile.

“Okay,” she says to herself. “I like…to watch the food channel,” she says out loud as she types. “Oh! And hanging out with my cats. I also like to read anything and everything I can get my hands on.” Once she starts typing, she starts getting more comfortable and actually begins to feel excited to know that she has a life outside of music after all. “I prefer quiet nights in over partying in a club on the weekends and am currently learning how to knit.”

Lauren has a huge smile on her face when she starts to reread her profile, which quickly drops into a frown once she finishes going over it. “Oh my god, I’m a 90-year old grandma,” she groans as she drops her head on the dinner table and whines to herself. “God, this is stupid. How did I let Dinah talk me into doing this?” she asks herself. “There’s gotta be better ways to meet people.”

She reluctantly finishes the rest of her profile, citing her eyes as the first thing people notice about her (despite the question specifically saying “other than appearance”), music as the one thing she can’t live without, and the brain as the part of the body that she’s most attracted to. She figures that’s really not where that question was trying to lead her to but she doesn’t really give a fuck at this point. Whoever this site is going to match her with is just going to have to deal with her singing, knitting, and books-reading ass.

The green-eyed girl downs the rest of the wine in her glass and looks over the profile one more time, uploading one of her favorite pictures from her recent Vogue shoot as her profile pic before she clicks on submit. She heads straight to her bedroom afterwards and refuses to give the site another look, figuring that whatever happens, happens.

–

Camila’s attention is brought out of watching MasterChef Junior when she hears an unfamiliar chime on her phone. She raises an eyebrow at the notification when she sees it’s from the dating site she’s been on for a couple weeks now.

Her roommate and best friend, Normani, had created a profile for her without her knowledge because the girl thinks it’s high time Camila moved on from her ex and she couldn’t take the pouting and moping around anymore so she took matters into her own hands.

In Camila’s defense, it had only been, like, two years since…she who shall not be named, so it hasn’t been that long. And she really is over the girl. She swears on it. Maybe she still feels a tiny, minuscule, super small, barely-noticeable bit of care for the other girl, but that’s probably only because they grew up as best friends and she was Camila’s first everything. So yeah, she’s not going to just abandon and completely forget the girl, even though that’s what she did to Camila, but she is over her.

Anyways, to prove her point, after initially freaking out over a dating profile that she did not create herself, Camila eventually gave in, if only to convince her friend that she’s totally fine and is just completely enjoying the single life, is all.

She’s changed a few things on her profile that Normani would probably shake her head at, but she figures she should be as honest as possible as to not send the wrong impression on whoever matches with her.

The brunette looks at the profile that was matched to her and laughs out loud in her empty apartment. The girl is using Lauren Jauregui, famous world-wide, multi-platinum selling pop star, as their profile picture and has hanging out with her cats and knitting on their list of hobbies. This girl is unbelievable, she thinks. How dumb can she be to use an actual famous person to catfish?

She shakes her head at the person and at the site creators for matching her with an obviously sketchy person and is ready to reject the match and exit out of it when she comes up with a brilliant plan. She’s going to meet up with this person and give them a lesson about fooling people on the internet. The brown-eyed girl thinks it should be fun to call someone out on their bullshit.

–

Lauren is fixing herself some cereal when she gets the dating app notification on her phone and she makes a mad dash to retrieve it before Dinah gets to it. The blonde Polynesian raises an eyebrow at her, which the raven-haired girl just shrugs off.

“Oooh, you got a hot date, Lauser?” the taller girl asks teasingly, waggling her eyebrows for effect.

“Shut up, Dinah,” Lauren rolls her eyes at the girl and moves away from her to read the notification. “Why are you still here anyway?” she huffs while discreetly trying to read the notification.

“Ally’s running a little late,” the other girl shrugs, but Lauren’s attention is elsewhere.

The raven-haired girl smiles at the profile that was matched to her. The girl, Camila, listed eating bananas as a hobby and talks about writing music as well, immediately intriguing the singer. After reading more about the girl’s favorite author, Charles Bukowski, and music artists, Ed Sheeran and The 1975 among others, the green-eyed girl decides she’d like to meet up with the girl. The picture on her profile is a whole body picture so Lauren has a hard time really seeing the details of her face but she can tell that the girl probably has Latin roots based on her features and one thing that’s not hard to notice, is that ass.

–

Lauren: Hey (:

Camila: Hi ((:

Lauren: I read your profile and it says that you like The 1975? I love them and actually met Matty a couple times before

Camila: Really?! That’s so cool, I’d love to meet the whole band someday. *sighs* Anyways, I saw that you’re into knitting? How’s that going?

Lauren: It turns out I’m not as good with my fingers as I thought

Lauren: Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I totally didn’t mean for that to come off as sexual

Camila: lmao, well I hope your lack of talent in the fingers department is limited to knitting ;)

Camila cringes at the message she sends in the dating app’s messenger. Is she really flirting with this catfishing lady?

Lauren: haha, well that’s for you to find out ;) anyways, since the dating app gods have decided that we make a good match based on our profiles, would you be willing to meet up?

Camila thinks about it for a second and decides to go on with her plan.

Camila: Sure! Where do you wanna go?

Lauren: Well, I was thinking we could go somewhere kind of quiet? Like somewhere public, but also discreet. I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but I just don’t want big crowds

Camila re-reads the last message a few times and furrows her brows. Is this girl really sticking to the persona of Lauren Jauregui?

Camila: Yeah sure, your location says L.A., so how about the café by broadway and center street, it’s pretty low-key and only hardcore hipsters or 90-year old grandmas go to that one

Lauren: sounds like my kind of place. I’ve never been, but that should work. When are you free?

Camila: I have work all week so how does Friday night sound? Around seven?

Lauren: I’ll see you then (:

Camila: ((:

–

Lauren is fidgeting with her fingers as she nervously looks around. She’s wearing a baseball cap with her hair tied through the hole in the back and a grey NY hoodie with black ripped jeans so as to keep a low profile but she can’t help but think she’ll be found out. This is L.A. after all. She chose a somewhat hidden corner in the café and hopes Camila will be able to find her. As she surveys the area however, she feels a little relieved that not a single person is paying attention to her, everyone else too absorbed in their laptops and books and skinny lattes.

She had continued texting with Camila as they eventually progressed to exchanging numbers throughout the week leading up to their meet up and she can’t help but be excited. The girl is funny and intelligent and absolutely adorable from the conversations she’s had with the brunette and she can’t wait to learn more.

Camila, on the other hand, is rushing through the streets in an attempt to try to get to the café on time. She’d taken a nap after her work and slept past the time she was planning to get up for her meet up with Lauren. Despite enjoying her conversations with the girl, she’s still determined on calling out the girl for pretending to be someone else.

The brunette enters the café and looks around, trying to spot a baseball cap and a grey hoodie as that’s what “Lauren Jauregui” said she’d be wearing. She finds the back of the girl’s head in the corner and slowly approaches her, trying to replay in her head what she would say to the girl.

She takes the last few steps and gets in the raven-haired girl’s line of view, getting ready for her attack when her eyes land on Lauren’s face and her words die in her mouth. Her brown eyes widen at the sight of the girl, free of make-up but looking as every bit as flawless as she does whenever Camila had seen her on TV. Her green eyes are bright and her lips are plump and full while a single diamond stud rests on her left nostril and Camila is finding it hard to breathe.

She remains standing gawking at the girl before Lauren slowly stands up and awkwardly clears her throat, “Um – hello,” she says with a small wave of her hand. “I’m Lauren. You’re Camila, right?” she says while extending her hand and Camila snaps out of her trance.

“Holy shit!” the brunette exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at Lauren while the raven-haired girl’s eyes widen in panic as she looks around to see if anyone is paying attention to them. “You’re Lauren fucking Jauregui,” she continues at a volume that makes Lauren cringe.

“Um, yeah” the green-eyed girl responds unsurely. “We’ve been talking for a week and I posted a picture of myself on my profile,” she explains. “You didn’t know?” she asks with a confused face.

Camila just shakes her head to try to get her thoughts together. “You’re actually Lauren Jauregui!” she exclaims again. “What the actual fuck is going on?” Then she looks around and looks like she just figured something out. “Oh shit, am I on Punk’d or something? Is Kutcher going to come out or what?” she says while laughing and enthusiastically looking around.

“Um no,” Lauren says. “Look, Camila. You seem like a nice girl, but can you tone it down a bit?” she whispers. “I really don’t wanna draw the attention of the paps here.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” Camila says as she ignores the girl’s pleas. “Lauren Jauregui actually decided she wanted to meet up with me,” she says in wonder. Then her expression changes to one of anger? “Why didn’t you tell me you were the real Lauren?! This whole time I thought I was going to get catfished?”

“I’m sorry?” Lauren says, hesitating for a bit. “For not catfishing you, I guess. But seriously,” she says while looking around desperately. “You really need to be quiet,” she begs as she surveys the place and sees that a couple customers are now looking at them.

“Be quiet?! I can’t be ‘quiet,’” she says while making exaggerated air quotes with her fingers.

“I really don’t want to do what I’m about to do,” Lauren warns. “So please, can you just sit down and we can talk?” she tries one last time.

Camila just shakes her head vigorously with a matching wag of her finger. “Oh no,” she laughs. “We’re not just gonna ‘sit down and talk’ – OH!”

Her words are interrupted with a yelp when she feels herself being lifted off the ground as Lauren throws her over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her legs as she scurries towards the exit in the back.

“Oh my god, Lauren! Put me down,” she cries.

Lauren just continues to easily carry her to the far end of the parking lot and Camila feels herself being gently placed inside a BMW 3 Series. She sees Lauren hurry around the car and get in the driver’s seat, driving out of the lot after buckling her seat belt on.

“Put on your seat belt, please” Lauren says as she turns to a stunned Camila for a second.

Camila does as she says when she finally snaps out of her daze and looks around. “Damn, this car is nice,” she whistles. Lauren just chuckles and shakes her head,

“Thanks.”

The brunette notices that they pull in another small restaurant’s parking lot and she turns to the raven-haired girl, who’s turned in her own seat to address the girl.

“Okay, look,” Lauren says as she gestures to the place around them. “See, we’re still in a public place and you are free to get out whenever you want,” she clarifies. “I don’t want you thinking I’m kidnapping you or anything,” at which the brunette just raises an eyebrow. “I just didn’t know what to do and I panicked, okay? You wouldn’t stop freaking out and I really needed you stop talking before you drew any more attention to us,” she sighs. “I’m sorry for just carrying you like that,” the dark-haired girl says as she looks down ashamed.

Camila chuckles, causing Lauren to snap her head back up to look at the brunette. “No, no I’m sorry for being so extra,” she says with a light laugh. “I just – I really did not expect this to be real,” she shakes her head at herself.

“I mean, I don’t know why you were so surprised,” Lauren replies. “I posted a picture of myself and wrote my whole name in.”

Camila looks at her curiously, “Yeah, but ordinary people use famous people’s pictures all the time. I didn’t expect a famous person to be on a dating site and I definitely didn’t expect a celebrity to actually reveal themselves right away. I can’t believe you used a real picture.”

“Was I not supposed to use a real picture of myself?”

“Do you not know that you’re famous or something?” Camila asks amusedly while a faint blush forms on Lauren’s cheeks as she rubs the back of her neck. “Oh my god, you’re so adorable,” the brunette coos.

Lauren swats Camila’s hand gently when she tries to pinch her cheeks as she straightens up to ask what she was going to say, “So – um – did you wanna continue this date?” the dark-haired girl asks insecurely, eyes darting anywhere but Camila’s.

Camila smiles at the girl’s nervousness and nods her head enthusiastically, “Are you kidding? Of course! Yeah, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, um – nothing in particular. But I would like, if possible, somewhere low-key, you know?” she asks, meeting the brunette’s eyes. “I just don’t want the paps involved.”

“I know just the place.”

–

Camila gives Lauren directions and they eventually arrive at some hole-in-the-wall place that serves Cuban food.

“Their food here is absolutely amazing,” Camila says eagerly as they walk through the entrance, holding the door open for the other girl. “And the service is phenomenal. I know you’re Cuban-American so I thought you might like this place,” she explains as she looks around for a familiar face.

“Yeah, I’m definitely excited. I’m always down for Cuban food, you know?” Lauren smiles at the girl and the brunette can’t help but notice how a slight Cuban accent lingered around her words. Lauren looks around and marvels at how at-home she feels in the place. The restaurant is mostly dimly lit with dark shades of red painting the walls and fairy lights strategically strung around the entire dining area. There are also several framed photos that capture the Cuban atmosphere, Lauren notes as her eyes linger over the photos of street-cart vendors and narrow roads planked by antique buildings as well as Cuba’s beautiful beaches.

“Camilita!” they hear someone call for Camila and they turn to see an elderly Hispanic man walking towards them with outstretched arms, which the brunette eagerly runs into. “I’m so glad you can stop by, mija” the man says as they pull back, beaming at each other.

“Please,” Camila mock scoffs. “You know I can’t stay way from this place,” she teases the old man.

“Oh, of course. Of course,” he chuckles as he brings his attention to the the dark-haired girl, who’s still looking at the place around them.

“Oh, this is Lauren” Camila says gesturing to the girl as she introduces the the two. “Lauren, this is Alfredo, my second father basically,” the brunette smiles at the two of them as they shake hands.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir” Lauren says. “This is quite the place you have,” she says with pure admiration in her voice.

“Lauren?” Alfredo says as he scrunches his face in thought. “You look like somebody I’ve seen before, huh?” he muses.

Camila’s eyes find Lauren’s green ones and she’s able to figure out what the dark-haired girl is wanting to tell her without the use of words. “Oh, you’ve met too many people, Alfred,” Camila jumps in. “There’s bound to be similarities every now and then.”

“Ah, you’re right, mija” the man replies. “It’s the old age, you know?” he says lightheartedly. “It’s starting to get to me,” he chuckles. “Anyway, let me sit you and your friend, this way,” he says kindly as he ushers them to a corner.

Camila and Lauren continue their date as they bond over authentic Cuban food. “Oh my god,” Lauren moans into her food as she takes the first bite. “This is so good,” she says approvingly and Camila has to divert her eyes from the girl’s look of pleasure before she lets her imagination run wild.

“Right? I told you you’d love it here,” she smiles at the girl once she composes herself.

“I definitely do,” the dark-haired girl says while nodding her head. “So how do you know the owner?” Lauren asks after swallowing her food.

“Um, my parents have always been very busy people,” the brunette shrugs. “Being doctors and all, so I used to come here all the time when I was younger,” Camila smiles at the memory. “Alfred, and his wife Maria, are kind of like a second set of parents.”

“Oh, okay,” Lauren nods as she listens.

They learn more about each other, Lauren telling Camila some stories of her childhood, ones the younger girl hadn’t heard from the media or found out through Google, while Camila tells Lauren more about her own life and how she works as a writer for a major publication in L.A. They bond over their shared passion in music and talk about their similar tastes in music.

At the end of the date, Camila is glad she wasn’t catfished after all and Lauren feels like she hadn’t completely lost all of her social skills as she finds it easy to converse with Camila.

“Okay, since you decided on this date,” Lauren says as she wipes her mouth with a napkin, running her tongue over her lips afterwards to rid of any remaining food traces on her mouth, an action that Camila’s eyes immediately follow. “How about, I invite you for dinner for our second one?”

“At your place?” Camila asks, surprised.

“Yeah, why not?” Lauren shrugs. “I’ve been watching the food channel a lot and I really want to try this casserole I saw once and maybe I can impress you with my cooking skills,” the green-eyed girl says with a bright smile and who is Camila to really deny this adorable human being anything that she wants.

“But I could be a serial killer stalker or something,” Camila tries one more time.

“Are you?” Lauren asks seriously.

“No.”

“Well then,” the raven-haired girl claps her hands enthusiastically. “We’re on for the second date!”

Camila shakes her head fondly at the girl across from her. “Okay. We need to teach you how to deal with meeting people on the internet and inviting strangers to your home,” the brunette smiles as the other girl just flushes red.

–

Camila walks out of the elevator that leads directly into Lauren’s living room after getting escorted by the security to the dark-haired girl’s penthouse.

“Wow,” the brunette says to herself as she looks around, the place surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides. “Really living that rock star life, huh?” she teases the other Latina, who’s frantically moving around the kitchen, hair up in a messy bun and in an apron that has Know What Tastes Even Better Than My Cooking? with an arrow pointing down written on the front. “Nice apron,” Camila says with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah,” Lauren says dismissively, still stirring something on the stove. “My best friend thinks she’s hilarious. “Make yourself comfortable. There’s drinks by the bar or juice in the fridge or coffee or tea and I ha-”

“I got it,” the brunette responds with a light chuckle. “Just focus over there Gordon Ramsey,” she says teasingly while helping herself to a glass of water.

After a few more moments of small talk and Lauren working around in the kitchen, they’re finally setting up the table and Camila can’t help but be excited from the aroma that’s easily permeating the room. They sit down on one side of Lauren’s gigantic dining table and Lauren sets her forearms in front of her, waiting eagerly as the brunette across the table gathers some food on her spoon, getting ready to take the first bite.

Camila smiles at the girl, whose green eyes are wide and bright and she can tell the girl is holding her breath so she teases her and takes her time in lifting the spoon to her mouth.

“Cameeelaa,” Lauren whines. “Just taste it already.”

“Okay, okay,” Camila concedes while laughing at the girl. “Stop looking like an over-eager puppy and distracting me then.” Lauren flushes pink and rolls hers eyes to try to hide her embarrassment.

Camila finally takes a bite and it’s – horrible. Like, absolutely, without a doubt, incredibly horrific. How Lauren managed to make such a simple dish seem like it was concocted in a lab by mad scientists is beyond Camila.

She keeps it in her mouth with a tight-lipped smile and starts to chew slowly, so as to not accidentally swallow huge chunks and choke to death. Lauren is still looking at her with her excited eyes and her dazzling smile and Camila wants to throw up, but at the same time, it would be like kicking a puppy if she told her the truth. If it were anyone else, Camila would have simply gathered her things and ran out. Maybe call the police for attempted poisoning, but she figures Lauren is too pretty for jail so she stays.

“Mmm,” Camila says as she swallows the first bite, fighting the urge to cough as the rough texture of the food remnants scratch at her throat. “That was sooo good,” she says with a pained-looking smile.

Lauren’s facial expression drops and she pouts. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” It’s horrendous actually, but the brunette thinks she doesn’t need to be technical. “Let me taste it,” she says while trying to get some food from Camila’s plate.

“No!” Camila exclaims, pulling the plate out of reach from the girl. She doesn’t want her to be poisoned as well. Camila gathers more food onto her spoon and shoves it in her own mouth with a slight grimace. “See? It’s good,” she says around a mouthful of the devil’s casserole. “It’s really good,” she moans exaggeratedly. “You’re gonna put Bobby Flay out of business,” the girl insists.

Lauren watches the girl, absolutely endeared by her antics. She shakes her head as she gently pries the plate away from Camila and starts to put away the dishes. “I appreciate you trying to spare my feelings, but you look like you’re going to vomit so” she says as she continues to put away the dishes. “While you go ahead and do that, I’ll order us some pizza. How does that sound?” she asks the girl, whose eyes light up at the thought of edible food and Lauren feels like she’s falling a little more each day.

–

They continue to date secretly but not secretly at the same time. Lauren isn’t going to hold any press conferences anytime soon detailing her new romance, but she isn’t exactly hiding it either. She’s given up (as well as her manager) a long time ago on trying to convince other people on a certain image so she doesn’t care if people see that she’s dating a woman. Her biggest concern is worrying about keeping Camila from getting too involved in the messy paparazzi so she tries to find quiet places to take her to.

They’ll go on a few dates out every once in a while, but for the most part, they stay in watching movies and just enjoying each other’s company, basking in how they can go from intellectually stimulating one another and keeping each other on their toes, to cracking stupid jokes.

celeb_entertainment: Singer-songwriter Lauren Jauregui spotted leaving a restaurant in West Hollywood with unnamed brunette bombshell. Check out the pics of these gal pals! www.celeb_entertainment.com

@jauregayforlmj: 👀 👀 👀 

@ilovelernjergi: damn @LaurenJauregui…what’s her @…asking for a friend

@noticemelauren: okay but when are you going back on tour @LaurenJauregui???

@slutforjauregui: guysss!!! I found her! @camilacabello97 hi (((:

@jaguarnation: what are your intentions for our smol human bean? @camilacabello97? ✋👊

@marrymelauren: y’all delusional I swear

–

Camila: Lauren!

Lauren: Camila!

Camila: your fans are blowing up my twitter )):

Lauren: Aw, poor baby. This is what you signed up for when you decided to date me tho so

Camila: I cant even use twitter w/o it crashing :((

Lauren: are they being mean to you?

Camila: no, well, most of them aren’t. they’re just looking out for you

Lauren: give me their @s

Camila: lo, it’s okay. I blocked those one or two accounts *shrugs*

Lauren: im sorry, camz

Camila: Laur, it’s really fine. trust me. most of your fans have been actually pretty sweet

Lauren: okay, if it gets out of hand, just let me know

Lauren: anyway, im coming over. I need cuddles

Camila: is that all you need

Lauren: and I gotta eat too

Camila: I don’t have food

Lauren: good thing I didn’t mean food

Camila: Get. Here. Now.

Lauren: yes ma’am

–

Camila picks up her ringing phone and braces herself for the inevitable yelling coming her way. “Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao!” her mom’s voice rings through the receiver and she moves the phone a tiny bit from her ear to preserve her hearing. Lauren smiles amusedly against her neck as they cuddle on the couch, the green-eyed girl leaving soft nips along the column of her throat while sneaking a hand under her shirt and rubbing the warm skin.

“Hi mami, I miss you too,” she greets her mom, who huffs at her reply. She holds onto Lauren’s wrist, stopping the girl’s wandering hands from going any further than the underside of her boob and gives her a glare, which the dark-haired girl kisses off with a cheeky smile. The older girl opts to sitting next to Camila instead and intertwining the brunette’s hand that’s not holding her phone with her own, kissing the back of it sweetly before playing with her girlfriend’s fingers. Camila’s lips quirk up in a soft smile at how affectionate her girlfriend is.

Her mom’s voice brings her back to their conversation and she fights the urge to roll her eyes even though her mother can’t actually see her. “You’re dating a pop star?!” she yells again and Camila is really starting to worry about her hearing.

“Mami, please calm down. Yes, I am in fact dating a pop star and it’s going well if you must know,” she says with a smile. The girl next to her smiles instinctively as well as she continues to play with the brown-eyed girl’s slender fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” and the slight hurt in her tone is enough for Camila to drop the attitude and appease her mom.

“I’m really sorry, mami,” she says sincerely. “I honestly was just making sure this was real,” she says while meeting the green-eyed girl’s curious gaze. “I had a hard time processing it in the beginning because it seemed too good to be true, so I’m really sorry I hadn’t told you.”

She hears her mother sigh and she knows she’s forgiven. “Alright, mija. But I want to meet this girl that’s got you all lovesick,” her mom teases her, letting her know that all is well.

“Okay that sounds good. When are you free?”

“I’ll drop by this weekend. How about this Saturday for dinner?”

“Yeah that works,” she says while kissing Lauren on the spot between her eyebrows, immediately easing her worries when she sees her scrunch her face in thought.

“Okay, take care, mija. Te quiero”

“I love you, mami. See you soon”

“So?” Lauren asks after a few seconds and goes back to nipping at Camila’s neck.

“My mom wants to meet you,” she says while closing her eyes tightly and preparing for Lauren’s reaction.

“What?!” the dark-haired girl says in surprise, jerking away from Camila in a panic.

“Can people stop yelling in my ear?” Camila says while cringing.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Lauren coos and sits back down next to Camila, rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her. “But did you say that I’m going to meet your mother?” she asks nervously, the circles on the younger girl’s back getting progressively faster.

“Okay, hold up,” Camila says while taking Lauren’s hand in her own before the girl burns a hole in her back. “You’re gonna do great, baby. My mom will love you, I promise,” she says certainly. When the green-eyed girl just pouts, the brunette moves to straddle her and starts to kiss and suck the sensitive skin alongside her jaw and down her neck as Lauren closes her eyes in pleasure. “How about…I ease your nerves a bit?” she asks while pulling back with a smirk.

“That could work,” Lauren replies and abruptly flips them over so Camila is on her back.

–

Dinner with Camila’s mom, Sinu, goes better than either of the girls expected. Sinu is as welcoming and warm and kind as Camila is and took a liking to the dark-haired girl in a heartbeat. Sinu sees how Camila’s eyes light up every time the brown-eyed girl so much as looks Lauren’s way. The way they both get lost in one another and how they can’t seem to get enough of each other, always keeping close or playing with one another’s fingers, Sinu knows her daughter is in love with someone who cares just as much, if not more, for Camila and she couldn’t ask for anything else, especially after what Camila went through with her ex.

Sinu sees glimpses of how Lauren takes care of her daughter. She sees it in the way Lauren keeps a hand on Camila’s back wherever they go, no matter how short the distance. She sees it in the way the green-eyed girl looks at her daughter with tender eyes and soft smiles. She knows it by how the girl genuinely finds Camila’s terrible jokes to be the funniest thing to ever exist and in the way she comforts her with a sweet kiss when Camila pouts at her mom for saying only Lauren laughs at her jokes.

She has seen it in how Lauren had no qualms in standing up for her girl amidst media speculations and outrageous gossip, not caring about her own image as long as Camila is protected and kept safe.

After getting Sinu’s unwavering support and approval of their relationship, the two girls continue a relatively problem-free relationship. Camila cooks for Lauren while the dark-haired girl thanks her in kisses and orgasms. Lauren brings Camila to premieres and red carpets, giving her backstage access to meet her favorite artists and the brunette thanks her girl with her own kisses that take Lauren to heights she’s never been.

They learn to compromise with one another and it’s easy and comfortable and they fall for each other with each day that passes.

Lauren eventually learns to read Camila and her moods, mastering how to effectively deal with her jealous tendencies, knowing when to push her limits and when to back down.

They’re lounging on Lauren’s couch, the dark-haired girl lying on her stomach with her head on Camila’s lap and turned towards the TV while the brunette is sitting upright and browsing through her Instagram.

“Can you stop pouting so loudly?” Lauren’s voice is muffled by Camila’s sweats.

The brunette scrunches her face at the back of the dark-haired girl’s head. “How do you know I’m pouting?”

“I have a Camila Cabello pouting radar.”

When Camila doesn’t respond, Lauren reluctantly gets up from the comfort of Camila’s lap and stares at her girlfriend, who’s still pouting at her screen. “Come on, what’s got you all pouty?” she says as she paws Camila’s legs with her toes, making the girl squirm.

“Nothing,” she mutters.

“Okay then,” Lauren shrugs as she returns her attention back on the TV.

“I just think it’s funny that-” Lauren smiles at her wildly and the brunette catches herself mid-sentence and abruptly stops talking. “Oh my god, I’m a crazy girlfriend meme,” she pouts even more.

“Okay, how about you actually tell me what’s going on,” the dark-haired girl says while gently prying the phone away from Camila and setting it on the table before turning towards her girl to give the brunette her full attention.

“It’s nothing really,” she says as she crosses her arms across her chest and stares straight ahead. “Your best friend slash ex just likes a lot of your pictures on instagram, is all” she shrugs as if she’s not affected.

The green-eyed girl fights to keep her smile contained as she moves to straddle the girl and gently grabs her wrists so she can uncross the younger girl’s arms. She then brings a finger under the girl’s chin and slowly lifts it up so she can meet her eyes. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” the smaller girl scoffs, bringing her eyes down again from Lauren’s piercing ones.

“Aw baby,” Lauren coos as she dips her head to nuzzle Camila’s neck. “You’re my main ho, you know that right? Keana knows that” she yelps at the sting of Camila slapping her arm.

“Lauren!”

“I kid I kid,” Lauren says pulling back with a smile and leaning forward again to kiss Camila’s pout away. “You know I love you.”

They both freeze the moment the words are out of Lauren’s mouth and Camila opens her mouth, only to close it back again, opting to continue to stare at her girlfriend with wide eyes instead.

After a few tense moments, Lauren lets out a nervous laugh as she runs a hand through her choppy hair. “You don’t have to say anything back. I’ve known for a bit and I didn’t wanna scare you, but I guess that’s all out the window now,” she explains, still chuckling nervously. She meets Camila’s shocked brown eyes and smiles. “I love you and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way yet, I’ll wait.”

“Laur-” Camila doesn’t really know what to say so she’s thankful when she’s interrupted by a gentle hand on her cheek, Lauren’s thumb softly stroking her skin.

“It’s okay, I promise. Don’t feel like you have to say it back just because,” she says with gentle eyes and Camila’s heart constricts at the sight. She does love the dark-haired girl back. She knows it. She knows it by the way her heart speeds up every time someone so much as mentions the green-eyed girl. She knows it by the fact that whenever she’s with Lauren, it feels like it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

She doesn’t know why she can’t say it though.

So she kisses Lauren. She kisses her hard and passionately, bringing her hand to curl around the dark-haired girl’s neck as she pulls her down closer, swallowing her girlfriend’s gasps as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. Camila kisses Lauren as if to say everything she can’t with words.

–

Dinah, Normani, Lauren, Camila, and Ally, which Camila learns is the green-eyed girl’s other best friend, whose job is to balance the crazy that the blonde Polynesian brings to her girlfriend’s life, are all sitting around Camila and Normani’s apartment, attempting to play board games like civilized human beings. Key word on attempting.

They’re playing monopoly at the moment and is on the verge of ruining every relationship they have formed with one another. Well, Normani and Lauren are still playing, the rest have resigned to their fate of defeat. Dinah was the first to go bankrupt after buying random properties and failing to build houses on them, while Ally eventually lost her money because she gave too many breaks to the other girls, feeling bad when she had to collect rent from them.

Camila had tried to seduce Lauren into paying with sexual favors instead of money for rent and was left unsatisfied and broke as the other girl rejected her advances, too focused on blocking Normani from building an empire on the New York properties while trying to build her own at the yellow spaces. Camila eventually relented when she went bankrupt and decided she was safe anyway because Lauren’s money was hers as well. She’d gladly have Lauren as a sugar mama.

Normani is on the verge of winning and forcing Lauren to mortgage her last property when they hear the doorbell ring. Camila looks around confused and Normani shrugs her shoulders because it’s almost eleven and the brunette was not expecting anyone that wasn’t already in the room.

The brunette gets up with a huff when she realizes no one else is going to get it and moves to open the door, yelling back at her friends, “Yeah no it’s okay, don’t get up. I got i-” Her words get caught in her throat when she turns around and sees who’s at the door.

“Luce?”

–

Dinah and Ally are with Lucy and Camila in the living room as they try to make small talk with the new girl while Normani and Lauren have retreated to the kitchen, pretending like they’re doing something other than burning holes to the back of the brunette visitor’s head.

“So, what brings you here?” Camila asks Lucy and she prays that her voice isn’t as unsteady as her heart.

“I was in town, so I thought we could catch up,” she meets Camila’s eyes pleadingly.

“So where are you based now?” Dinah tries to ease the tension in the room.

“Um, New York,” Lucy replies quietly.

“What do you do?” Ally jumps in the conversation.

“I’m a model.” There’s a flash of pain that crosses Camila’s features and the conversation hits a lull.

  “So, Lucy?” Lauren questions Normani as they stand idly by kitchen counter. “Who is she?”

“Um,” Normani laughs nervously as she fails to meets Lauren’s eyes while rubbing the back of her neck. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “She’s Camila’s ex. Her first love, first everything. She was Camila’s go-to person because her parents were never around. They were best friends before they started dating and Lucy left her to follow her dreams in New York,” she gets it all out in one breath and Lauren can see anger in her brown eyes. “Camila was an absolute wreck when she left and she didn’t even bother to check on her,” she scoffs disbelievingly.

Lauren lowers her gaze to the ground, her heart thumping in her chest as she swallows the lump in her throat. She tries to steady her heart enough to get her next words out.

“Do you think-,” she breathes out a shaky laugh. “Do you think she still loves her?”

Normani doesn’t need the clarification on which girl she’s referring to when she sees the hurt in Lauren’s green eyes.

“She cares about you a lot, Laur,” Normani says sincerely. “I know for a fact, you’re the most important person in her life right now.”

“Right, of course,” Lauren nods while furrowing her eyebrows, not sure if she’s agreeing with Normani or trying to convince herself she’s okay.

After a few more moments of awkward tension, Normani finally kicks everyone out, telling them it’s late and she needs her beauty sleep. Lucy seems disappointed, Camila looks like she’s still in a bit of a daze, while everyone else just seems relieved. Normani decides she’s staying with her boyfriend for the night, giving Lauren a wink at the end to let her know that she should talk to Camila.

After cleaning up after their friends, Lauren looks around the apartment and sees through the balcony door that Camila is leaning against its rails, in deep thought. She takes a deep breath and prepares her heart as she picks up the blanket off the back of the couch and nervously makes her way out onto the terrace to join the brunette. She gently cloaks the girl with the blanket and wraps her slender arms around the smaller girl’s waist delicately, resting her chin on her shoulder and she feels her girlfriend sigh and relax against her, as if her touch was all she needed to release the tension from her body.

“Are you okay?” the dark-haired girl asks quietly, her warm breath hitting Camila’s neck and sending shivers down the girl’s spine that has nothing to do with the night air.

Camila turns her head to meet concerned green eyes and nods her head in the slightest bit.

“Yeah,” her answer comes out breathy and she gives Lauren a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The green-eyed girl wraps her arms a little tighter and closes her eyes, reveling in the girl’s warmth, hoping that the girl is really okay. That they’re really okay.

–

“Hey, honey, I’m home,” Lucy playfully sings through the apartment as she sets her things down and spots her girlfriend cooking in the kitchen. “Oooh, what you got over there?” she asks Camila as she sidles up behind her and hugs her from behind, leaving kisses down her neck while the girl just smiles at her actions. Camila turns her head to meet Lucy’s lips in a kiss before she gets back to cooking.

“Your favorite,” she says with a soft smile. Lucy reaches over and turns off the stove. “Luce!” she squeals as Lucy wraps her arms tighter around Camila and carries the laughing girl through the apartment to their bedroom.

“I’m craving a little something different,” she husks in her girlfriend’s ear as she sets her down on their bed before crawling towards Camila and seductively hovering over her.

–

“No, Lucy! Please don’t do this,” Camila sobs as she grabs hold of the girl’s retreating arm, her eyes pleading and desperate. “I love you. I love you so much, you don’t have to do this.”

Lucy looks at the pain in the girl’s eyes and she swallows hard while trying to keep her tears at bay. “I do have to do this, Cami. It’s what’s best for us.”

“No it’s not! How is this best for anyone? Why can’t we stay together while you’re in New York? We can make this work, I promise,” the girl continues to sob. “Please don’t leave me like this.”

“It’ll be too hard and just hurt us in the end, Cami. I have to do this on my own, it’s better that we end like this and we can look back on it and say we broke up on our terms and not because we slowly tore each other apart because of the long distance. I’m sorr-,” her words are cut off by a searing kiss as Camila tries to pour her heart out in the only way she knows best. She brings her hands to cradle Lucy’s face with both hands as she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, conveying every emotion she’s feeling through this kiss. She pulls back and leans her forehead against the brunette.

“I love you, isn’t that not enough?” Camila can feel her herself losing her hold on Lucy. She can physically feel the girl pull away, taking Camila’s heart with her.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy says one more time, prying Camila’s hands from her face before going out the door and leaving Camila’s life and heart in shambles.

–

Camila is mindlessly flipping through the channels on her TV when someone knocks on her door. Begrudgingly, she gets up and opens it without really expecting anyone in particular and her heart drops at the sight of Lucy nervously wringing her hand in front of her.

“Hi,” the girl says quietly while meeting Camila’s eyes with a sad smile. “Can we talk?”

Camila feels like she’s on autopilot when she lets Lucy in and they decide to go on the balcony to talk even though Normani isn’t home.

  Lauren is going through the familiar streets that lead to Camila’s apartment, her movements practiced and easy as she’s been to the girl’s place for as many times as she’s been in her own penthouse. She’s quietly opening the girl’s door with a key Camila gave her with one hand, while trying to keep the bouquet of roses secure with the other when she’s finally able to push it open. Her girlfriend has been feeling down for the last couple of days and she plans on taking her out on a getaway weekend, because it’s been too long since she’s seen the brunette with a genuine smile and Lauren couldn’t take it anymore. She doesn’t really want to think about why Camila is sad because it feels like a stab to her own heart.

She finally spots the girl in the balcony and moves to surprise her when she halts in her tracks as someone else comes into view. She sees Lucy step towards Camila and cradle her face before leaning forward and taking her lips in a soft kiss. Lauren looks on and she can feel her heart tighten at the sight, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tries to keep her tears in. Oddly enough, she doesn’t seem too shocked, although that doesn’t really make it feel any less painful.

  Camila stands frozen as Lucy leans forward to kiss her and she instinctively closes her eyes at the familiar lips. She doesn’t reciprocate, but she doesn’t push the girl away either as she stands unmoving for a few moments. She’s finally snapped out of her daze when she feels Lucy swipe her tongue across her lips and she immediately pushes the girl off.

“No, Lucy,” Camila says with a shake of her head. The movement allows her to see somebody in the living room from her peripheral vision and when she turns to look, her heart drops to her stomach.

“Lauren!” she yells after the girl and hurriedly opens the balcony door as she sees the green-eyed girl slipping out the front door. “Lauren, wait!” the brunette yells down the hall as she tries to keep up with the girl’s pace.

The older girl abruptly stops and turns around with Camila almost running into her. Her green eyes are cloudy with unshed tears and she’s gripping the bouquet of roses so tightly that her knuckles are turning white. A myriad of emotions are visible on her face, pain being an obvious one, but to Camila’s surprise, anger isn’t one of them. Lauren just looks broken, and the brunette almost wishes she was angry instead. She’d take anger and yelling over the absolute anguish that’s marring the girl’s features. She looks a lot like someone who’s given up. Like someone who’s already lost the fight.

“Lauren, I can explain, please,” Camila begs.

Lauren just looks at her with the same hurt expression, staying silent the whole time.

“I – um – I’m sorry, I was –” Camila runs a hand through her hair frustratedly as she tries to gather her thoughts. When she can’t formulate a coherent response, Lauren just nods sadly,

“I thought so,” the green-eyed girl responds with a shaky breath. “You know I came here to tell you that they approved my request to postpone the few extra tour dates they wanted me to do before going back to the studio. I fought for this extra time so I could spend it with you because you’d been so down lately,” Lauren’s eyes drop to the ground. “I guess it’s best that I go on those tour dates after all.”

“No wait! Lauren, I love you,” she cries when she sees the girl start to turn.

Lauren gives out a pained laugh and shakes her head, as if trying to erase the girl’s words from her memory. She doesn’t want to hope for too much. “No you don’t. That much is clear to me,” she responds calmly, and her quiet demeanor chills Camila to the bone.

“Lauren,” Camila takes her hands and searches for her eyes. “I do, I love you,” she tries to convey her sincerity. “I was just caught off guard, I – it was – I’m sorry. I made a mistake by not pushing her away but I mean it when I say I love you,” tears are now streaming down her face.

“This is when you decide to tell me?” Lauren asks with a crack of her voice. “I’ve been dreaming of the day you say it back and you tell me when you think you’re gonna lose me,” she responds and Camila sees Lauren’s tears finally cascade down the slope of her cheeks.

“Laur, please belie-”

“I get it,” Lauren nods resolutely as she gently takes her hands away from Camila’s grip. The brunette’s heart shatters at the loss of Lauren’s warmth. “I can’t compete with that, now can I?” Lauren asks sadly. “First love, first everything?”

“There is no competition, Laur,” Camila sobs. “You’re the one I want.”

“Do you still love her?” Lauren asks as she watches Camila’s brown eyes swim with uncertainty.

Camila only hesitates for a second before she answers, “No.”

“Yeah, you need to work on your acting skills, babe” Lauren says with a sad smile as she brings a hand up to wipe the tears from Camila’s face, unable to help herself. “That’s why you couldn’t say it back, right? Because you still love her. And that’s okay,” she replies in a broken tone, as if conveying to Camila that she’s letting her go.

“No Laur, please believe me. Maybe I still care for her because we were friends for a really long time. I’ll always care for her, but I am not in love with her anymore, Lo. I love you,” she tries to convince the girl desperately.

Lauren just shakes her head once more. “I know what it’s like to be someone’s second choice, Camz,” she says, her voice barely audible. “Don’t put me through that again. Sort your feelings out, for your sake and for mine. Just –” she takes a deep breath in an attempt to steady her voice. “Take this time to make sure you know what you want, okay? I love you,” she says one last time before leaving a lingering kiss on the brunette’s forehead.

Camila watches Lauren go as she takes half of her heart with her. She walks back to her apartment, trying to keep herself from completely falling apart in the hallway and she sees Lucy sat on her couch.

“Get out.”

Lucy turns at the voice and immediately walks up to Camila, who takes a step back with her hand held out. “Cami, forget about her, okay? I’m the one that’s here, we can try agai-”

“How fucking dare you?” Camila spits out venomously, her tone low and her eyes cold. “How can you think that you can just walk out of my life and come waltzing back in like you didn’t completely break me when you left?”

“That’s why I’m here, Camila,” Lucy replies. “So we can try again”

“Really? You came back here because you’ve loved me all along and regret everything you did or is it because you saw on the news that I was with someone else. That I was happy?” she asks the girl with an icy tone. “Are you really that opposed to my happiness that you’d come back here just to ruin everything again?!”

“Please, we deserve a second chance,” the girl pleads.

“No we don’t! You don’t deserve another chance. I fucking followed you to New York,” Camila says, her voice cracking at the memory. “I tried to fight for us. And you sent me away, you were too busy living your dream, remember? You don’t love me, Luce” she shakes her head. “You love the idea of us. And now that you see me happy with someone else, you can’t stand it. You were my best friend, Lucy. If you truly care for me, you’d let me be happy,” she says resignedly. “So if you have nothing else left to say other than trying to get me back, you can go,” she says without looking at the girl.

Lucy looks at the girl pleadingly and hesitates before she finally leaves through the door, leaving Camila to break down in her own living room.

–

Lauren goes on tour and puts on a show for her fans, pouring all her attention on performing and tiring herself out so she wouldn’t have to cry herself to sleep. She doesn’t know if leaving for tour was the best decision, but she does know that her heart is tired and as much as she loves Camila, she needs to take care of herself too. She needs to put herself first.

Camila still stalks the dark-haired girl’s social media accounts, following her likes and reblogs, trying to keep up with the girl’s life even if it’s through a screen. She sees the green-eyed girl like a post about missing someone and heads to twitter, only to be met with her mentions being bombarded with #camrenisover tweets and it feels like her heartbreak is under a magnifying glass for the public to agonize over.

She’s moping again in her living room, scowling at the fact that Lauren’s newest picture has multiple comments from Keana, the girl leaving kissy face and heart eyes emojis all over the comments section.

“Okay, I can’t take this anymore,” Camila’s head snaps up at an irritated Normani standing over her. “This whole –” she gestures vaguely around her, “-moping around and being sad and I miss Lauren so much look isn’t attractive, Mila” she says sternly.

Camila tries to hold back her tears and Normani’s face immediately softens, opting to sit next to the brunette instead. “I just miss her so much, Mani” she nearly cries.

“Okay, you fucked up,” she ignores Camila’s glare. “But shouldn’t you be doing something about it?”

“What do you mean?” the brunette sniffles.

“Do you lover her?” Normani asks pointedly.

“Yeah, I know that now. I’d been waiting for closure with Lucy for so long, thinking that’s what I need to move on and then –” she hiccups from crying so much. “When I finally got it, like, it didn’t even matter. Seeing Lucy again only let me know that I really am over her. I will always care for her because she was a big part of my life, but,” she sighs. “I just don’t love her like that anymore. I love Lauren and I hate that it took losing her for me to finally admit to my feelings,” she cries even more and leans on Normani’s shoulder.

Her friend tries not to move away from the wetness she can feel seeping through her clothes and gives Camila a comforting pat on her shoulder. “But have you told Lauren about how you feel?”

“She said I didn’t know what I felt, but I do, Mani. I really do,” Camila says almost urgently as she pulls back to look her friend in the eye. “It’s like I don’t know what to do without her. I miss her smile, her eyes, her company, just all of her, and I feel so lost.”

“Okay, then maybe you should let her know just how much you love her,” Normani says gently. “Maybe she’s just waiting for you to fight for her.”

So Camila finds herself on a plane to Paris the next day where she knows Lauren is staying for a couple days before performing on stage for the city of love. She’s determined to let Lauren know that she’s nobody’s second choice. Not to Camila anyway.

The brunette quickly checks in the same hotel as Lauren’s crew (she contacted Dinah and bribed the girl for information in exchange for mending her best friend’s heart back from its shattered pieces) and takes the elevator to Lauren’s room, ringing the doorbell before she loses her nerve.

Her breath gets caught in her throat when it’s opened by Lauren, dressed casually in ripped jeans and a plain black v-neck shirt, hair looking like a carefully organized mess and face bare of make-up. She’s as breathtaking as Camila remembers, eyes as green as ever and lips looking as soft as when she last felt them on her own. It’s only been about a week since they last saw each other but Camila feels like she’s missed too much already.

“Camz,” Lauren breathes out, shock evident in her face. “You’re here. In Paris,” she says disbelievingly. “What are you – what are you doing here?”

The younger girl is about to answer when she hears Keana’s unmistakable voice ring through the room, “Who’s there, babe?” and the words grip at Camila’s heart.

“Oh – it’s um- it’s just Camila,” Lauren says as she looks back to where Camila assumes the girl is and Lauren’s words hurt even more as they seem to drag Camila’s heart through the confines of her ribs, throwing it on the ground to helplessly fend for itself.

Camila wills her tears back as she says in a small voice, “Can we talk?”

Keana comes up behind Lauren and her eyes widen at the sight of Camila. “Um,” she laughs nervously as she runs her hand through her flawless hair, Camila notes. “I’m gonna go for a walk,” she says as she moves out the door, ignoring Lauren’s pleading eyes. “Call me when you’re – when you figure it out, ya?” she finishes while walking away.

Lauren lets Camila in silently and before she can say anything, the brunette speaks first.

“I’m here to fight for you,” she says determinedly with a resolute nod of her head. “To show you that I fucked up by not immediately pushing her away, but I’m here to prove to you that I was honestly just caught off guard. It’s you that I want. It’s you that I love,” she says quietly.

Lauren shakes her head and starts to pace the floor. “Don’t do this if you’re not sure, Camila. It’s okay if you don’t know it yet, but don’t rush into things for my sake.”

Camila lets out a frustrated growl and looks at confused green eyes before she moves forward and wraps her hands around the back of Lauren’s neck as she pulls her forward for a hard kiss. The brunette swallows the dark-haired girl’s gasp and feels the girl relax when Lauren’s hands rest on Camila’s hips as they fall into a familiar rhythm. Their lips move against one another in a sensual dance and they fight the burning in their lungs to stay connected.

Camila pulls back as she tries to catch her breath and sees Lauren’s eyes still a little dazed. “I. love. you. I’m sorry for what I did but I know that I love you. I want to be with you and I’m going to do everything to show you just that,” she breathes out, keeping Lauren’s gaze as she tries to convey her feelings. “The first step is to tell you I love you, and that’s why I’m here. But I want you to know that I’ll still be here when you get back from tour and I’m going to win you back, okay?” she says with a smile.

“I’m – I -,” they’re interrupted when Lauren’s manager comes strolling in the room.

“Lauren we have to g-,” he stops mid-sentence when he sees the two and raises an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”

Camila fights the urge to respond “yes,” and watches Lauren’s conflicted eyes move from Camila to her manager.

“I’m sorry, Camz,” she says as she gathers her things. “I have to go.”

“It’s okay, I’ve said what I needed to say,” Camila says as she picks up her jacket from the couch. “Just know that I’m going to wait for you. You deserve someone fighting for you, Laur,” the brunette says with a smile.

–

Lauren is standing outside of Camila’s hotel door (she’d contacted Normani about Camila’s room in exchange for fixing her best friend’s broken heart) and tries to calm her heart that is thundering hard against her chest.

The tension she feels dissipates immediately when Camila opens the door dressed in SpongeBob sleep shorts and a shirt with a small rainbow flag. She’s wearing huge glasses and her hair is in a messy bun, her bangs stubbornly framing her face while a pizza is hanging halfway in her mouth and Lauren knows she’s in love.

“Laur,” she squeals in surprise, her voice muffled by the pizza. She quickly sets the pizza on the box lying on her bed and hurriedly wipes her hands on her shirt as she chews quickly, flushing a deep red when she sees Lauren watching her with an amused smile.

Lauren lets herself in and turns around to address the flustered brunette.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Which one?”

“About you loving me?”

“A hundred percent,” and Camila sees relief wash through Lauren’s features as her plump lips curve into a soft smile.

“Okay then.”

“Okay then what?”

“Okay then we can try again,” she shrugs as if she hadn’t just shocked Camila’s heart back into life. “I love you and you love me and I don’t want to waste any more time apart,” she says sincerely as she meets watery brown eyes.

“I love you,” Camila whispers as she surges forward to kiss Lauren deeply, instinctively wrapping her arms around the girl’s neck as the green-eyed girl wraps her own slender arms tightly around her waist, lifting her in the air. Lauren’s heart flutters in her chest and her nerves alight at being able to touch Camila again. She can taste pizza and love and Camila’s laugh in the kiss and she can’t get enough. Eventually, their smiles are too wide to maintain the kiss so they break apart reluctantly.

“So, you’ll be waiting for me when I finish the tour?” the green-eyed girl asks as they pull apart slightly, arms still around one another.

“I’ll wait for forever if I have to baby,” Camila responds with a cheeky smile.

–

@camilacabello97: there’s nothing like me and you and you know it 🌙

@LaurenJauregui: I know it ☀

@jaureguicabello5eva: excuse me, some people are tryna sleep @camren

@camren4lyfe: for the love of god, camren, leave our hearts out of this

–

A/N:

Hey everyone,

Hope y’all are doing okay and living your best lives, and if not, working on it at least.

Shameless self-promo: if you haven’t already, check out my full fic in progress, Hold Over My Heart. It’s available in all your known platforms, 5hfanfic/ao3/wattpad (@jaureguicabello5eva). Will be updating that soon ((:

As always, feel free to leave a vote/comment/feedback if you feel like it!

Hope everyone has a fantastic weekend and stay safe please (esp. if you’re getting snow).

-Maddox

#UPDATE #one shot #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #humour #romance fluff #submission #theres nothing like me and you and you know it

[lumos-star684]

All of them. Just to be a pain

Can’t believe I’m about to answer these but its either this or a marketing assignment so here goes…

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

more cereal

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

Yes! 

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

blank revision cards and raffle tickets

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

white with sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

yes

6: do you keep plants?

non but i would like to (in fact, I’m going to buy one next week)

7: do you name your plants?

nope

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

none im not very creative :(

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

yep

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

side or stomach usually

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

hmmm can’t think of this (wait you should know this any idea?)

12: what’s your favorite planet?

Pluto

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

my little niece started talking to me about flying pigs

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

like the friends apartment with loads of little quirky shit

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

Venus is the only planet that spins backwards relative to the other planets.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

good ole simple pasta with tomato sauce and cheese

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

dark purple 

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

i have no stories omg 

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

non

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

don’t have one in particular, depends on the person really 

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

there was my little karrimor rucksack that i had all throughout (most of ) secondary school and it broke on the day before the last day of Year 11 but still holds a special place in my heart

22: are you a morning person?

nooooooooo (unless its morning where you’ve been up all night)

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

make tea and watch tv

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

nope (i don’t have a lot of secrets though??)

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

a hotel kitchen (by accident i should add)

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

at the moment, my black boots

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

mint?? idek

28: sunrise or sunset?

sunset

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

there’s this one little shit that always sends me asks on tumblr

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

yes

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about sock

socks, my friend, are a fucking brilliant invention. i have a bit of love-hate relationship with socks because i feel like they confine your feet (i mean why would you want to lock your feet into little pockets of cloth?) but on the other hand THEY’RE SO CUTE. little socks with funky patterns and little animals and the super soft house socks as well. having said that, all my socks are black with either pink purple or blue on the foot and heel parts. SO, my favourite thing to do is always wear mismatched socks - but nobody can tell because the main part of the sock is black. It’s like a little secret I can wear all day knowing that my socks are not the same even though it looks like they are.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

we’d just left a club in prague and headed over to burger king. we sat down and then out of nowhere in the middle of prague this group of gujarati kids came and sat down next to us. I had a conversation with them and forgot that the other girls hadn’t the foggiest idea what the fuck we were talking about. we were leaving and then one of them asked me to marry him……

33: what’s your fave pastry?

er…something with chocolate? or apples

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

there was this little black dog that used to be my sister’s, i can’t remember what i used to call him but I’ve still got him somewhere

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I absolutely love them but can never bring myself to use them (I eventually did and my Latin notes are so fucking pretty)

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Bahamas

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

messy but organised messy

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

when people walk slowly in the middle of the street and when people think they’re better than you

39: what color do you wear the most?

black

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

i have a little harry potter necklace i got for my 16th which i wear almost every day

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

me before you

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

don’t like coffee shops much

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

nobody

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

last sunday

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

no lol they’re shit

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

all puns are good puns

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

ermm dunnoo

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

can’t remember exactly what my biggest fear was, but it’s not the same as today (although probably quite similar)

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

nope don’t own any

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

empty glue sticks

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

you - la vie en rose

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

LOOL some of the trump and theresa may ones have been pretty good

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

no but they’re all on my list to watch

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

probably a stranger on the train

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

moved out 

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

people tagging in posts and memes

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

currently ill in bed so i didn’t even move -_-

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

keef is the wine mom and i reckon you will be the vodka aunt :)

59: what’s your favorite myth?

there was this one where zeus was cheating on hera and when he got caught he turned the woman into a cow

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

yes! usually just snippets i read on the internet though

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

given is what we gave keef and received…i don’t think ive ever received a stupid gift?

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

sometimes yes, either the innocent strawberry and banana smoothie or the orange and passionfruit tropicana

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

music yes, it all has to be in particular playlists and books no, they’re just stacked randomly

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

bright blueee

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

you :( and a couple of people from school actually

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

tiny little black red and purple flowers

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

a bit eh actually, but also nice if i’m inside and in bed

68: what’s winter like where you live?

not great, just a bit grim and rainy and no snow

69: what are your favorite board games?

monopolyyyy

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

nope

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

breakfast tea

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

1000000% yes

73: what are some of your worst habits?

picking at the skin around my fingers and overthinking (the standard tbh)

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

newcastle born and bred sarcastic little shit who can be a bit annoying but also has a heart of gold

75: tell us about your pets!

MY LITTLE BABYYYYY Goghi is my cat - black with little white paws, a white stripe down her front and a white moustache. Softest fucking fur EVER. She has one funny eye, hates people and sleeps all day. I also have about twenty fish in the pond and two little ones in a tank inside. Varying sizes and no names

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

a marketing assignment, the laundry and cleaning my room 

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

noooo idea..

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

fanclub. they’re one in a minion those things

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

little things like when people come and see me i cant think of a particular example

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

beige and nope we just painted the whole house that colour

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

*can’t remember what anyone’s eyes look like*

82: are/were you good in school?

yeah i was a pretty good student

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

the airborne toxic event and green day’s american idiot

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

yesss but not sure yet!

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

nope

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

i have never heard of concept albums (upon googling it appears i do like some of them, yes)

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

3 idiots, dead poets society and kuch kuch hota hai amongst others

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

non

89: are you close to your parents?

eh

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

Londonnn - its just….everything (but also expensive)

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina  and hopefully a couple of other city breaks

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

drowns

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

hair down if its straight or pony tail if its curly

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

my little cousin’s birthday was yesterday

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

stay in be all weekend drink tea and eat soup

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

procrastinate, all the time

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

INTJ/INTP, gemini and ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

ncs? loved it but also hated it because i don’t like climbing

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Current favourites: Sometime Around Midnight, Vampire Smile and Wasn’t Expecting That

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

Future - five years ago i was there and twas a bit shite

oh my god you don’t know how long those took me YOU BETTER READ THEM ALL @findinganiqa XXX

#aniqaunderground #messages #bloody hell this is long #this took me all week