#in both accounts it's been very sudden and stuff that is like complete 180 from their typical online presence

[circusgoth-dotcom]

sad to see these asmrtists i really liked get into weird drama all of the sudden

[ally-the-turtle]

I don't know if you still do stuff for Noragami.. But can I have Yato with a fem! S/O who has like FABULOUS legs. Like they dummy THICC but they are so beautiful! (Bonus if she can do a split!)

woop sorry for the late response-  i’m not very active in this account since I switched into my art account on my other computer xD 

But hey, sure! Y’know what, I might make this account a multifandom writing blog. 

Noragami’s my favourite anime but it’s been a while since I last watched it :”)) I hope he’s not OOC! 

Warnings: You swearing like a sailor lmao Word count: 1467

~~~

No one would have ever thought that a girl with your legs could dance, let alone do the splits. 

It’s a stereotype, right? Thicc girl is too thicc to do anything blah blah blah

Well not you. 

You loved to dance. It was a form of art that you just connected with so strongly. Expressing yourself with just your body language was so extraordinary to you that you took on classes since you were just a child. Now a young adult, having just turned 19, you didn’t know what you wanted to do exactly. 

Future??? WHat’s thAT????

Currently, you were laying on your bed in your pyjamas which consisted of shorts and a tank top, under the sheets, looking up at the ceiling as random thoughts swirled in your head. Maybe you could go into the performing arts? Musical theatre performer? Dance teacher? 

“Ugghhh...” You groaned. “I don’t know what to dooo!” 

The performing arts was very physically demanding - that is, if you meant the requirements then you’re in. You had tried in the past to audition for dance classes and teacher positions but you had gotten rejected every time and all for the same reason:

Your weight.

What was most disappointing was that you had always been proud of your physical figure. You weren’t thin like a wire, you never were and unless you give up your happiness, you never will be. But you didn’t mind ‘cause fuck it - food is fucking delicious and people need to be more grateful of the awesome shit we get to consume. Ahem - anyway, you loved yourself. You love your body and you wouldn’t give it up for anything. You were beautiful. You had all the curves in all the right places. So many of your girl friends had told you they would give their soul to Satan to have your ass and legs. It was a weird way of complimenting you but you appreciated it either way. 

Still, you were upset. Just today you had auditioned for an elite dance class which fit your level. However you got rejected and even though they had told you that it was because you had come too late, you knew better, you knew it was because of your physical look which didn’t match their wants. 

“Beauty is so overrated.” You scoffed, thinking about how so many girls literally torturing their bodies just to fit society’s definition of beauty. 

wE LiVE iN A sOCiEty. 

“Societ...y...” 

“Huh?” You muttered, hearing a voice close by to you. 

“Beauti...ful...” 

“What the fuck?” You gasped, now fully aware that you weren’t alone in your room. Your eyes scanned the area and there in the corner, you saw floating eyeballs. 

“You’re not... beautiful...” It said. “We... can make you... beautiful...”

“Shut the fuck up! I AM beautiful!” You spat, getting your phone out to text your boyfriend, Yato, one word:

HELP.

You got up from your bed in a flash as the phantom grew larger and came closer to you. But how? You were confident with yourself, there was no reason why a phantom would appear right next to you. 

You were confident... right?

“Beautiful... Beautiful...!” It spoke again, its voice multiplying as if there were 500 children speaking at once. 

“Shut up!” You yelled, baking up against the wall until it touched your back. 

It attacked, sending black mist towards you. However, you lifted your leg high, a full 180°. Suddenly you had an idea. 

“You wanna dance? Bring it motherfucker!” You challenged. 

The black blob of eyeballs and mist multiplied and all began attacking you however, you were able to avoid them by lifting your legs and moving your legs in graceful manners, as if you were dancing. You even did a few gainer front flips (A/N: y’know those flips that ballet dancers do? yeah that.) You were skilled and it showed. You were cartwheeling around, flipping and twisting to dodge the attacks. However you were starting to feel tired and soon enough, one of your flips ended up with you hitting your head against the wall and twisting your ankle. 

“Ah fuck!” You cursed, holding your ankle and panting loudly. The blob grew larger and was about to launch at you until there was a flash of light. 

“Sekki!” A voice called.

Then, the blob exploded and on the other side was the all too familiar God in the light blue scarf. 

“Y/N!” He called rushing to your side. “Are you okay?!”

“Dude.” You panted, leaning against him. “It’s fucking 1 am, a Phantom attacked me, I sprained my ankle and I’m tired. What do you think?” You sassed. 

“Yatooo!” His regalia, Yukine called. “Release me!”

“Oh, right.” Yato said before releasing his regalia, causing the katana to glow and reshape itself into Yukine’s human body. “Get some ice.”

The blond boy nodded before leaving the room. Yato’s blue eyes locked themselves on your bruised ankle which was starting to change colour. His eyes then shifted over to yours, as if asking how it happened. 

“A Phantom was here and attacked me.” You briefly explained. 

“It wouldn’t just appear right next to you like that. ” Yato persisted, his voice growing softer. “Did something happen?”

You paused before sighing out. “They rejected me.”

“What??” Yato shrieked. “But you’re an amazing dancer! You’re the best one I’ve seen in centuries!”

That comment made you slightly smile. “Thanks... I guess I’m more upset than I initially thought...”

Yato frowned before bringing you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and yours were around his neck. You didn’t cry but your heart still felt heavy and having him by your side helped relieve the tension. 

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Yato asked, his thumbs rubbing against the thin cloth on your back. 

“I didn’t wanna disturb you. I know you’re a busy guy.” 

“I would’ve made time for you, honey. Nothing can ever be more important than your wellbeing.”

“Heh.” You chuckled, pulling away from him and caressing his handsome face. “Thanks.” 

Later, Yukine came back with a pack of ice and the two boys brought you to your bed with Yato holding the pack against your ankle. You suggested that they both stayed at your place since your parents weren’t home and they gladly agreed. Of course, Yato decided to sleep with you and Yukine took your parent’s bedroom. The idea of having a queen sized bed just for him made him so happy since he hadn’t been able to sleep properly due to Yato not having a proper shrine of his own. Sure, Yato’s “mini shrine” that Hiyori had made for him was registered but it was far too small for them to sleep in. 

Now, it was just you and the God of Calamity. 

“Did they tell you why?”

“They said that I came too late which was, in fact, not true, since I was one of the first to audition. They didn’t wanna say it to my face but it’s basically my weight. They think I’m too fat even though my skills are just as high as the other girls. Assholes...” You explained, furrowing your eyebrows. “Guess I’m far away from being in the performing arts...”

Yato frowned. “Don’t give up like that, Y/N, it isn’t like you.”

“How can I not?” You retorted. “I keep auditioning, again and again, and every fucking time, I get rejected! Why? Because of these fucking things!” You slapped your thigh in frustration. 

Yato’s hand was placed on top of your thigh, where you had just slapped and gently rubbed it. Then, he lowered his head and kissed it which made you blush, feeling awkward by the sudden affection. 

“Your thighs are beautiful, Y/N. They’re strong and yet so soft to lay my head on.” He smiled. “They can do amazing things. It’s just that no one is as privileged as me to see them in action~”

“Oh my God you perv.” You giggled, facepalming at the God. “Thanks.”

He smirked at you, moving his body closer to yours until his face was inches from yours. Yeah this was completely normal. You were 19, of course you’ve had sex with Yato. Hell, he was your first when you turned 18. It was not the best experience but you were glad it was with him. 

Yato’s hands moved upwards, his palms creating a soft sound against your skin, through the hems of your loose shorts until they reached your waist. His thumbs moved in circles which was pretty soothing for you. He rested his head against yours, smiling contently before kissing your head, then your cheeks and finally, your lips. The kiss started out soft but then it escalated quickly. 

“Your legs are beautiful, let’s see what they can do~”

~~~

Hope you enjoyed it!

[yasuda-yoshiya]

So, KH3 is over.

Wow. That sure was a thing.

Closing reflections on both the game and the series as a whole below.

I guess I’m not even really surprised that Xion pretty much got a whole five minutes of screentime in the end after all that build-up. Don’t know what else I expected, Nomura...

You know, KH has always been terrible at pacing, but I still can’t quite believe just how much nothing happened in the first ~20 hours! The Disney filler is fine and all (I mean, the game wouldn’t sell without it), but I have to admit that the initial rush of childish excitement at getting new KH content started to wear pretty thin after four or five worlds of it. Games like KH2 and BBS at least tended to break things up with some big plot events halfway through, right?! I feel like this game really would have benefited a lot from having some kind of breather somewhere in the middle, even if it was just a matter of moving things like the Aqua/Ventus rescue up a bit earlier. They really had to cram a lot into those last few hours, and a lot of things ended up feeling more rushed than they really needed to be as a result. But for all the game’s flaws, in the end I still felt like I was able to leave the characters I cared about most on a satisfying note, and I think I’m content with that.

I really loved the way Axel was portrayed in this game! I feel like they hit a pretty good balance with him in the sense that, yes, he’s obviously realised that he messed up horribly and wants to do better, but he still totally feels like Axel. He’s still very much an obviously flawed and self-centered person who still habitually puts his own emotional needs above others, still wants to frame himself as the hero of the story who will obviously be the one to save Roxas in the end - and I love that the game itself never really buys into that framing. There is honestly not a single scene in this game where I felt like the emphasis was on what a cool and good person Axel is. His constant apologies to Kairi feel incredibly uncomfortable, like he’s very clumsily trying to finally hold himself accountable for what he’s done but still has absolutely no idea to actually handle it. His boasts about being a Keyblade wielder feel like empty arrogant bluster that never really gets backed up. When he pointedly interrupts the big cast reunion to scream “Um, hello, what about ME?!”, it seems more petty and ridiculous than anything. And when we get to the final battle, he repeatedly and consistently fails, on every count. He tries to have a big badass moment rebelling against Xemnas, but Xemnas totally beats his ass, and in the end it’s Roxas and Xion who have to jump in to save him, not the other way around. He has absolutely nothing to do with saving Roxas, or bringing him and Xion back, or even dealing with Saix, despite how much he heatedly promised that he was going to totally do all those things.

In the end, the real crux of his arc feels like that moment where Xion tells him to step back and leave it to them, and Axel just smiles and admits that, yeah, when it came down to it, the two of them were always stronger than him. They don’t need him, and they never did. I love that so, so much. I love the way that when the three of them are left alone together after the battle, he’s just so obviously awkward and uncomfortable and has no idea what to say, until the three of them all just finally break down crying and hugging each other. It felt so totally genuine and powerful and heartfelt, and I couldn’t have asked for more. I really appreciated Axel’s acknowledgement at the end that they had a lot to sort out, and I expect they probably still do, and a lot of it’s probably going to be messy and painful and difficult - but I’m also fine with us not getting to see that onscreen or with the game dwelling on it too much, because in the end, what’s really important as far as the series’ themes go is that they’re all finally here and alive and free to be themselves, and the ending rightly puts the final emphasis on that - on the sheer joy and wonder of them finally being able to live in the world, as people, to be happy and confident in themselves and who they are. Xion showing up at the tower in those beautiful clothes was the point where I pretty much just started crying my eyes out and couldn’t stop for the entire credits sequence. I love that the framing of their final scenes doesn’t really put any real special emphasis on Axel at all; it makes it feel like their happy ending isn’t really about them reuniting with him as a trio (in the way that, say, the BBS trio’s ending is very much framed), it’s about a much broader sense of them being able to live, and to experience the joy of living, with all that entails - that he’s just one of many friends for them now, and that the days of their messed up co-dependent relationship where they all had to desperately cling on to each other to feel human are hopefully over. The only thing I don’t really like about it in the end is Saix being there, but hey, nothing’s perfect. I do wish that things like Xion’s return had been a bit less rushed, and that her and Roxas had more screentime than they did, but all in all, I feel like I definitely got the closure I wanted, and I’m overjoyed with it.

As for the rest of the game... well, I’d be lying if I said the overall plot wasn’t pretty much a giant incoherent mess overall - the finale had way too much crammed into it, a ton of the antagonists seemed to do sudden 180s at the end for no reason, and it was an absolutely terrible choice to spend such a huge amount of time on obvious sequel hooks and cliffhangers (the black box, Subject X, Marluxia and co secretly being ancient keyblade warriors or whatever the hell Chi is doing) in a game that should really have been firmly focused on giving closure to the existing arcs after all these years - but... well, it’s Nomura, and it’s Kingdom Hearts. I don’t think I really expected anything else. But I did feel like the game was generally charming and enjoyable on a moment-to-moment level, the quality of the dialogue and cutscene direction felt like a big step up for the series, and I did actually enjoy the sheer scope and ambition of the final boss rush for what it was. It was absolutely a mess, but it felt like a sort of final celebration of the series and its characters that made me feel really excited and nostalgic in a sort of “bringing out my inner twelve-year-old” way, and there were a lot of great individual moments in there - the RXA reunion, Repliku’s sacrifice, Sora apologising to Namine - that genuinely did manage to hit hard and leave an impact. I guess at this point, KH has been ongoing for so long that it’s just inevitably exciting to see all these stories finally coming to a conclusion instead of just stalling at the same point forever, however weird the execution.

The one big thing I’d say they totally dropped the ball on was the BBS trio; their resolutions just felt completely empty to me, way too easy and simplistic and without any real consequences or acknowledgement of things like Aqua’s fall to darkness and how it impacted on her, or Terra’s rock-bottom self-esteem and the ways Aqua and Eraqus contributed to that. (Hell, when Ansem and Xemnas’s last words gave me much stronger Terra feelings than Terra’s actual resolution did, something must have gone terribly wrong!) They weren’t really ever my favourite characters, so I’m not too upset about it, but I still think they deserved better than they got. And I pretty much just tuned out all the nonsense at the end with Kairi’s unbelievably transparent and cynical fridging (”You require motivation” oh my god get lost!!) and the drama over Sora being separated from her again becuse I just...really didn’t care any more. I’m sorry, I just didn’t. Those two can keep cycling through their same old boring plot forever if they want to, I just don’t care!! I actually barely even noticed Sora disappearing at the end because I was too busy crying over Xion, lmao. Thank god my favourite characters don’t have to live inside those two losers any more. They are free from their nonsense now, and so am I.

So, how do I feel about the series as a whole, coming out of KH3? I’ve spent quite a bit of time revisiting and reflecting back on the older games in the run-up to KH3′s release, and honestly, I think my opinion coming out is more or less the same as it was coming in. I can’t really honestly say that the series as a whole is good, and it’s probably not at all worth the investment for anyone new to the series trying to get into it now - but I do feel that there is genuinely a lot of good stuff in there among all the nonsense, and I’d have to say that my personal experience growing up with the series and following it all these years has been an overwhelmingly positive one, overall.

KH1 was a very conventional shounen story, but a charming and beautifully told one. CoM was a genuinely unique and unsettling game that pulled apart KH1 in a ton of interesting ways, and even if the series didn’t have the guts to really keep going with the ideas it set up, I still feel that it was really interesting and cool as a standalone. KH2 was a mess, but it was an epic mess that I totally loved and obsessed over as a twelve-year-old, and it set up some genuinely fascinating concepts with Roxas, the Nobodies and the Organization which 358/2 Days went on to capitalise on incredibly well. I genuinely find 358/2 Days to be a game that still has a lot of power and resonance for me even now; it’s probably the only KH game I’d say I wholeheartedly respect and admire from a writing perspective, and I still love how comprehensively it tears apart everything KH2 was trying to say (in a way that the series totally was willing to run with and expand on, unlike CoM, which even 10 years later is still kind of unbelievable to me). BBS’s writing was a big step down from Days, but there were still a lot of really cool and interesting characters and concepts in there, and even if KH3 ultimately failed to stick the landing on them, I’d still say that a lot of what the game tried to communicate with Terra’s character in particular has continued to stick with me. Re:coded and DDD were both pretty silly, but they were still totally fun and addictive games (debugging system sectors was great fun, and I can’t hate anything as transparently Pokemon-derivative as the Dream Eaters), and I loved how they both so unapologetically continued down the path Days set up in kicking KH2′s original conclusions about Nobodies to the curb. And KH3, for all its missteps, still managed to cap off the character arcs and themes that I most cared about in a way that was ultimately satisfying to me. The overarching plot might have been absolute nonsense, and the series more often than not a ridiculous and filler-bloated mess, but in the end I really can’t feel anything but happy and positive memories when I look back on any of these games. I can’t really hold the series’ flaws against it too much when it’s brought me so much joy over all these years.

I think the one thing I love and appreciate most about the series, looking back now, really is just how willing they were to scream from the rooftops that the sacrifices Roxas and Xion were pushed into making were categorically wrong, that they deserved to be their own people, right through to the very end. In the end, the series was already pretty much irreversibly going down the path of bringing them back and giving them their own happy endings by the end of DDD - which was amazing - so in the end all KH3 really had to do for me to love it was to just complete that obvious final step, and I was more or less guaranteed to be okay with whatever other nonsense it might do. But even so, there was a part of me that still couldn’t quite believe it seeing their happy ending at the end of KH3; I still almost couldn’t process that this was actually real, that they actually seriously did it. KH2 so obviously wanted its players to uncritically take Roxas’s choice to go back to being part of Sora as a good thing, and even Days left a heck of a lot of wiggle room for people to read Xion’s willingness to sacrifice herself as a positive choice, rather than something she very clearly did not want but was forced to convince herself was okay because she simply wasn’t given any other viable options.

And this kind of goofy shounen-adjacent series having a lot of disturbing and uncomfortable subtext beneath the surface of its seemingly conventional plotlines isn’t exactly a rare thing in itself, but I feel like it’s pretty uncommon to see a series like this go so far in explicitly bringing out that subtext and making it into text - unambiguously shouting from the rooftops and making it outright unavoidable canon that, no, Days was in fact not just a tragic story about people with no hearts who were always just tragically doomed from the start to sacrifice themselves and return to the “real people” they came from, but was in fact a story about perfectly real and complete and valuable people being subtly and systematically brainwashed into believing that they had no hearts and were less real and valid and important than others, about the horrible things those kinds of beliefs can do to people and about force them to willingly dehumanise both themselves and others to cope. Xion’s story was not a beautiful tale about accepting her true nature as a part of Sora’s memories and willingly returning to him, it was a story about a person who absolutely deserved and wanted to live for herself having her entire identity and self-confidence crushed and destroyed, about her being pushed into becoming actively suicidal even by perfectly “well-meaning” people. Roxas’s tragedy was in fact not just that he “didn’t get to meet Sora himself” before getting assimilated back into him - him being assimilated into someone else in the first place was the tragedy, because giving his own independently developed self up should never have to be something anyone has to do. Namine merging with Kairi was not a beautiful happy ending, it was an incredibly depressed and guilt-ridden person taking the first excuse she had to fade away because she no longer saw any value in herself and her existence, and Sora and Kairi uncritically validated that perception of herself by accepting her merge with Kairi as right in a way that they absolutely shouldn’t have.

None of this is reduced to subtext or interpretation, KH makes it all outright canon by implication - and not only makes it canon but actively sets up the entire main thrust of its epic multi-game arc to be about setting these mistakes right and bringing these people back and validating them as full human beings in their own right. And honestly, I just think that’s incredible. I love it, and I’ll always be grateful for it, and a huge part of what lets me keep coming back to games like 358/2 Days and still being able to fully appreciate them even now is having that knowledge that these interpretations are not just me reading too much into the text, but that they have been outright objectively confirmed as the correct readings within the series itself, over and over again, and only more and more and more explicitly and unavoidably as time has gone on. I honestly can’t express how much it means to me that KH is so loud and unambiguous about how much it loves and values and holds up these people as real and important, whatever their origins, whatever the fanbase might have to say about how bringing them back is “fanservice” and “ruining their original conclusions”. It’s so important to me, and I’m so thankful for it.

So yes, overall, I think I’m content with this game, and with the series in general! As long-awaited series finales go, I’ll definitely take it over things like Homestuck and Zero Escape’s efforts any day. I feel pretty much happy ending my time with the series on this note, and while I probably will still end up checking out whatever Nomura does next, I think it will probably be more out of vague curiosity than any strong investment by now, which is fine - the plotlines I cared about most within the series have now been pretty definitively closed, to my satisfaction, and I doubt anything else it does will manage to interest me nearly as much, but I’m sure I’ll still be willing to pop in again in a few years anyway for old times’ sake. For now, I am free, and I’d have to say that feels pretty good! I’m willing to forgive Kingdom Hearts a lot just because it’s brought me so much joy over the years, and I can’t think of any other series that has managed to stay emotionally significant to me for as much of my life as this one has. So in the end, all I can say is: thank you, Tetsuya Nomura! Keep on co-opting those beloved Disney movies to indulge your absurdly convoluted shounen anime nonsense, you wonderful, ridiculous man.

[osmw1]

Head Over Heels from the Scarf I Lent Her  Chapter 5—The Warm Sun, and Lunch

“So? What happened afterwards?” “What are you on about all of a sudden?”

Ōyodo Jun—my classmate who sits in front of me—leans his arm on the back of his chair and turns to me. It isn’t unusual for Jun to start rambling about something incomprehensible, but it sounds awfully as if he’s talking about Satsuki. She’s a total lifesaver for cleaning Tooru’s room. Jun lets out a dirty smirk and looks at Tooru.

“Something had to had happened, right? She’s totally fallen for you.” “What, do you think I’ve got the balls to do anything to a girl as cute as her?” “… you’re being serious. Well, I guess not.”

For some reason, Jun dejectedly pouts as he shifts his arm from the seatback to Tooru’s desk.

“What a letdown, man. You gotta get better stories to tell.” “Why do I have to make sacrifices just to amuse you?” “That’s the way how things work. Hurry up and get a girl.” “Ow, cut it out.”

Tooru pushes Jun away, who was smacking him on his head, and then places his elbows on his desk too.

“First of all, you don’t have a girlfriend either. You better check yourself first.” “Gah! Straight through the heart! You don’t mince words, do you?”

Ignoring his exaggerated reaction, Tooru instead overhears the conversation of another group.

“Didja hear about Miyamoto Amane’s little sister?” “Yeah, dude. They she’s a total babe, unlike Amane. Go hit her up.” “You crazy? I’m not about to poke the bear, thank you very much.”

Already famous on the second day of school, eh? Well, she was well-known to begin with anyway, so no surprise there. Seems like everyone is so scared of Amane that no one is willing to get close to Satsuki. That was Tooru’s plan too, but somehow things ended up this way.

Luckily, Amane is another class so Tooru hasn’t got mixed up in her business at all. Unlike Satsuki, there’s not much noteworthy about how Amane looks, save for her chest. She’s probably number one in school in that aspect. It’s a mystery what she thinks about her younger sister, but Tooru isn’t about to march up to her and ask. And why does Satsuki look so down as well? It’s gotta have something to do with her family, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it. As he’s just her acquaintance, Tooru can only remain an outsider—whether for her sake or his own. Seems like Jun has overheard the other group too. Still sitting backwards on his chair, he faces Tooru.

“Must be tough then.” “It’s not too bad. We’re gonna be going home separately.” “Huh? You two are planning to meet every day?” “Ah…”

Tooru had dug his own grave and Jun has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’ve finally showed your true colors.” “It’s not like I’ve done any—” “Shut up! And treat me to something with your paycheck!” “What?! Why do I have to?!”

Tooru dodges Jun’s attacks and then sits back, spacing out. Satsuki’s face pops into his mind. They’re friends or something or other now, right? She’s not alone anymore like that winter day, right? His daydreams are cut short by the bell.

  Tooru always eats lunch at the same place—a sunny spot behind the school. It’s his daily routine to sit on the concrete outside of an unused classroom on the first floor. And of course, if it’s raining or snowing, he’d eat lunch inside instead.

But today, the warm spring air lulls the sandman. To have lunch while basking in the sun was Tooru’s thing and this is his place. Or was. He spots a familiar figure and waves.

“Hey, Miyamoto. Fancy meeting you here.” “Wha—?!”

Satsuki was sitting there about to open her lunch box. Her face is bright red like she was taken by complete surprise. After making sure not a single other soul was around, Tooru sits down next to Satsuki, leaving but a little room between them. On the other hand, perhaps still surprised, her face was still flushed red.

Sitting side by side again, Satsuki is small. She’s probably not even 160 cm tall. On the other hand, Tooru passed the 180 cm mark already. Sure, the average height of high schoolers is going higher and higher, but Tooru himself didn’t even think he’d grow this much.

That’s why it was natural for him to be able to look at what she has for lunch. Wieners cut into the shape of octopuses, omelette, and veggie stir-fry with a small portion of white rice. You could even say that this is the traditional Japanese packed lunch. On the other hand, Tooru’s lunch was fried chicken from the freezer section and rice. He had just had an earful from Jun, saying how he’s soon going to get fat. So, Tooru retaliated with a punch.

“Your lunch sure looks good.” “Oh, you think so?” “I’ve only got some previously-frozen chicken and rice. Probably isn’t doing my body any good.” “That’s true…”

Though he would’ve preferred her saying otherwise, Tooru relaxed after seeing Satsuki strain a laugh. He’s not sure what to make of it, but Satsuki suddenly waving her hands around.

“Umm, I would still like you even if you get a little chubbier too, though!” “Et tu, Satsuki?”

Tooru was at a loss as he opened his lunch box. Is that my future? I’m destined to be overweight? But even then, he’s busy in the morning getting ready for school and busy at night studying. He just wants to keep his grades up is all.

Still, how scary it would be to get fat before graduating. Like, actually. Not wanting him to feel down, the seemingly flustered Satsuki gives him a little fist pump.

“It’s okay. If you’re worried about it, then I’ll help you out!”

Satsuki bursts out with absolute energy. He had been hanging his head down but looks up at the girl so full of enthusiasm and responds like a burnt-out boxer.

“Support? What kind of support?” “How about making you both lunch and dinner?!” “Huh?!”

Of course, he was shocked. Not only is Satsuki bound to be busy in the morning, but wouldn’t she be like his mom packing him a lunch? He hesitates to put such a burden on her.

“No way I can do that to you…” “It would not be a big deal. If anything, it’s hard to cook just one portion, you know?”

He could only nod back. It doesn’t seem like she’s even half-joking. Tooru isn’t familiar with cooking enough to have a sense for that, but it sounds plausible.

And this would be good for his health too. Tooru could avoid the whole getting fat thing. However, he couldn’t just ask for this favor all of a sudden; it’s a lot more time and effort. Isn’t there something he could think of? Satsuki looks up at the thinking Tooru. Her youthfulness really felt like as if she were his younger sister. He’s seriously contemplating ideas, but still almost reached out to pat her head.

Needless to say, though, Tooru had neither the guts nor the feelings for her. He shakes the thought off and keeps thinking. And then, an idea, though a trivial one.

“In that case, I’ll pay you for each lunch.” “But, you’re…” “You’ll be using your own ingredients, right? It’d only be right for me to pay for my share.”

Satsuki looked like she wanted to say something, but she lets out a small breath and nods with a smile.

“Okay then, if you’re fine with that.” “Alright, it’s a plan. Thank you, Madam Miyamoto, for saving me from obesity.” “You’re exaggerating… and call me like you normally do.”

Satsuki waves her hand as if she were a little embarrassed, making him want to protect her even more. Even if she might be feeling down from her home situation, it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big deal to her.

“Anyway, shall we eat? Lunchtime is almost over.” “You’re right. I salute you, frozen food. You have served me well.” “Frozen food sure is handy.”

Tooru responds with a quipping laugh as Satsuki teases him. And then, once again, he looks at her lunch. It looked good the first time he looked, and it still looks good now. He’d love to try a bite. Seeing through him, Satsuki grabs a piece of omelette with her chopsticks and looks up at him. Her hair flows to the other shoulder.

“Want some? A taste-test.” “Uhh, you sure?” “Of course. Consider it research to see what you like.”

Oh, thank you so much. Even Tooru was doubting whether his chicken was enough for lunch.

“Oh, you don’t have to feed me it… it’s a little embarrassing.” “Oh, really?” “Aren’t you…? Anyway, you can just put it in my container and I’ll eat it myself.”

Satsuki’s face turns bright red again after hearing what he said. Then, she silently puts the egg on top of his food. So, it wasn’t on purpose yesterday after all. Tooru then looks down at the omelette.

It looks well-made and smells slightly sweet. There’s no way it won’t taste good. He opens his mouth and stuff his cheeks with the omelette. Tooru looks over to his side to find Satsuki with a nervous look on her face.

His eyes open wide.

Delicious. It’s perfectly seasoned with both salt and sugar. There’s even slight undertones of broth to it. Tooru has never had an omelette this tasty before. It’s even better than his mother’s.

“Miyamoto, this is amazing.”

He tells her with his mouth full of food and Satsuki chastises him for being improper. The tension had been completely cut and she relaxes her shoulders.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like it.”

Her smile is as dazzling as always. Tooru didn’t think she could smile this brightly at first, but now he knows better. Swallowing his food revealed a light aftertaste of sweetness and broth. She’s even accounted for aftertaste.

“I’ve got great hopes for tomorrow’s lunch now.” “Look forward to it, okay?”

Their time together was soft and comfortable, if over too soon.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /next/

(please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

[handle-with-utmost-care]

Cheerleader/Soccer player PART 5

Ok so I wrote this series years ago (i think like 4 yrs lmao) and I had a very uncharacteristic urge to finish several stuff I have lingering about.. 

and this was one of them…IDK If anyone is still interested in reading? Lol or even remember? Or maybe you’re new here bc of riptide but lmao surprise I wrote this cringe drabble that turned into a 5 part fic :)

I am like...70% embarrassed by this fic bc i hate mostly every previous part. it was hard to continue bc I had to get over my crippling distaste for sudden POV changes. maybe someday when I’m not too caught up in my own procrastination I’ll go back and rewrite and flesh out this mess and post it on AO3, but for now this’ll have to do.

to the person constantly harassing me to finish it YOU KNOW WHAT ANNIE I FUCKING IFNALLY DID IT OKAY. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS HAPPY NEW YEAR YOU ASS! @cherylsbosom

also apologies for any typos

PART 5

“Alright, status report girls.”

“I thought we were dropping the fancy lingo?”

“Yeah it’s kinda confusing to keep up with.”

“Status report,” Ally Brooke repeats, sharply eyeing the girls on her bed.

She had invited Dinah and Normani after school to continue discussing a potential plan B.

But from the looks of it, Ally’s got the distinct impression that that’s the last thing on their minds. If their giggling over Dinah’s phone was any obvious indication.

Ally clears her throat pointedly. When that has no effect, Ally stomps her foot. “Girls!”

Dinah drops her phone and Normani’s laughter immediately tapers off.

“We have to focus here. Lives are at stake,” Ally says, as she flips open to the newest empty page in her notepad.

Normani gives her a look of disbelief. Ally almost flushes at the expression, because, okay, maybe she is still getting a bit carried away with this Operation Camren thing.

But she had convinced herself that Camila and Lauren were both too stubborn to realize the obvious. This was all for the sake of love.

And Ally was a firm believer in doing things for the sake of love.

Her eyes glance down at the notepad in time to realize she had already spelled out the mortifying title. She hastily scribbles it out before the girls can see. Normani’s expression turns into an annoyed eye roll.

Fortunately she doesn’t comment, much to the Ally’s relief.

“Mila’s not doing so well,” Dinah says, finally returning her complete attention on the topic at hand. “She’s been ditching soccer practice lately and she never wants to leave her room whenever I try to invite her to go out.”

Ally figured as much. It’s been almost a month since that awful incident at the party, an incident that Camila has been very close lipped about.

Ally had lost count of the number of times she tried to get the girl to open up. Inevitably, each time had always ended in a very indignant frown and an annoyed: “Just drop it Ally, everything is fine, okay?”

Ally wouldn’t press after that. But it was clear that everything most definitely was not okay.

“Lauren is bitchier than usual and I don’t think it has anything to do with the freshman cheerleaders fucking up the pyramid formation,” Normani admits after a while.

Ally sighs at this. She’d been aware of the head cheerleader’s mood swings, witnessing a firsthand account of it yesterday when Lauren completely chewed out a freshman for missing a step in the routine. An honest mistake that really didn’t deserve such a harsh scolding.

Ally had tried to calm Lauren down at the time, but she was having none of it. Instead, Lauren had chosen to stomp off and cut practice short.

Normally, this wouldn’t exactly worry Ally. It wasn’t anything new for Lauren to throw tantrums when things weren’t going her way. But for the tantrums to be so closely followed by a complete emotional 180 was something to be concerned about. And recently Ally had caught Lauren in a state of severe melancholy.

It was a draining experience hanging out with the girls only to have Lauren bringing the atmosphere down with the frequent amount of times she would frown sadly. Or respond sadly. Or even just breathe sadly. Ally had lost count of the sudden urges to shake Lauren and demand what was wrong.

But then, Ally would catch Lauren staring at Camila.

And she had decided that perhaps leaving them alone really was the best option.

Ally plops down at the edge of the bed, defeated.

“And I really thought this was all going to work out.”

“Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be,” Normani offers, as she inspects her nails. “Even though their horoscopes say they’re totally compatible.”

Ally doesn’t question how Normani even knows Camila’s birthday.

.

.

.

Another month passes. Another month of the same strained atmosphere. Ally is sure the rest of the cheerleaders have picked up on their leader’s flip flopped mood swings. The girls on the squad learned to leave a wide span between themselves and Lauren.

The soccer team wasn’t faring much better. Ally had noticed Camila’s performance out on the field had suffered drastically to the point that she’d been sitting out on the bench more often than not.

It was a dreary month for all of them, despite the rapidly approaching homecoming game. Something that she, Lauren, and Normani had excitedly talked about at the beginning of the school year was a topic that had been seemingly forgotten.

Yet the school didn’t share the same sentiment. Everywhere, people were buzzing with pregame excitement weeks before. Hallways were adorned with bright posters and decorations. The school’s PA always made sure to add a final comment reminding students to buy their tickets. Many conversations between classes were heard predicting the outcome of the game.

Today isn’t any different, Ally thinks as she pushes past a group of guys on the football team hyping the other up. She rolls her eyes. The action makes her stop before the cafeteria. She wasn’t like this. Usually she’d join in on the hype. Relish in it.

This whole Lauren and Camila is seriously putting a damper in my mental well being too.

She sighs, pushing through the double doors leading to the cafeteria, feeling a wave of despair at the thought.

The cafeteria is loud and rowdy. More than usual, Ally notices. Her eyes flit over to the source of the noise to find a growing throng of students near the far end of the room.

The shouts and jeers echo across the cafeteria walls, mixing into a cacophonous mess. Ally can’t exactly discern what is being said or cheered. But from the school spirit that’s been thrust in her face recently she thinks she has a pretty good guess.

For a moment, Ally panics that this was a planned lunch event she forgot about, or in one of Lauren’s irrational moods, she’d decided to have an impromptu pep rally to punish the squad.

Ally quickly rifles through her bag, pulling out her weekly planner. After flipping to the latest date, relief spreads through her chest.

No. No scheduled event.

More students gravitate towards the crowd. Ally pushes through several people, in the opposite direction, until she finds Normani.

“What’s going on?” Ally questions, sidling up beside the girl. Normani simply shakes her head.

“I don’t know.”

Ally opens her mouth but Normani quickly cuts in.

“And no, I don’t want to know.”

Ally pouts at her indifference.

The both of them make their way to their usual table. And when Lauren joins them a few moments later, she makes no indication that she’s noticed the unusual overly eager students.

Well that rules out an impromptu pep rally.

Lauren takes a seat. Ally immediately feels a wave of sympathy upon seeing her friend. She takes in Lauren’s miserable frown, the distressed knit of her eyebrows and downcast eyes.

This was probably worse than the random angry outbursts the past month. Seeing Lauren so dejected always managed to pull at her heartstrings.

“Hey girl,” Ally greets, moving to take the seat across from her. Lauren barely lifts up her gaze as she tosses her food with the fork in her other hand.

“Hey,” she answers, casting her eyes down upon the untouched food again.

“You want some of my fruit salad?” Normani probes.” My mom put in some mangos, I know you like them.”

Lauren doesn’t even flinch at the uncharacteristically nice gesture.

“Maybe later.”

Ally and Normani exchange a look. This behavior had seemed to be going further and further into a downward spiral as the weeks progressed. Ally was almost tempted to go through with her intervention.

Look how your meddling turned out.

Maybe Normani was right. Maybe it would be just best to leave them alone.

Ally sighs, before pulling out her own lunch.

The crowd continues to go on strong. The jeers and sneers reverberate throughout the lunchroom even more so than before.

Ally begins to notice that the majority of students are starting to swarm the crowd. Her eyes glance around the people trying to determine the situation. That’s when she realizes something that makes her stomach drop.

“I think that’s the soccer team’s table,” Ally says. The tone of her voice grabs both girls’ attention. She watches as Lauren’s eyes dart towards the crowd and the similar conclusion comes to her. Her expression instantly sparks to life.

Lauren is out of her seat before Ally has time to register anything. She doesn’t even have time to tell her to wait because in the next second Lauren is shoving people out of the way and disappearing among the mass of students.

“Come on,” Ally blurts out, tugging Normani up from her seat to chase after her.

Their process is a lot less effortless than Lauren who had people parting like the red sea after her aggressive pushes.

It’s probably because of the hastily muttered excuse me’s that fall from Ally’s lips. Eventually Normani becomes so frustrated that she just hollers a very loud MOVE.

The students finally part, allowing them to push through until they reach the table…. only to realize that they’re too late.

Ally feels her blood turn cold when she sees her friends.

Slowly, her senses come into focus. And she realizes, dizzily, that cheering she heard earlier were actually people chanting FIGHT.

Dinah and one of the freshmen on the cheer squad are in an intense hair pulling scuffle, while Lauren is on the floor trying to aim a punch on another beneath her, who Ally suddenly recognizes as the girl Lauren chewed out at practice what felt like forever ago.

Ally lunges forward trying to pull Lauren up from the girl, as Normani attempts to pry apart the two other girls beside them.

She manages to get Lauren to her feet, not without a ridiculous amount of struggle. Because then Lauren keeps attempting to hit the girl on the floor. The victim of Lauren’s assault isn’t making things any easier for her either, as she continuously claws at them until Ally gets caught in the fray.

Ally feels her hair being yanked in an awkward angle painfully.

God, if she wasn’t a pacifist she swears she would –

“Stop! Stop! Stop this immediately what on earth are all of you – girls STOP IT!”

The sound of the principal makes them all spring apart from each other.

The six girls are huffing and red faced, attempting to catch their breaths.

Ally’s hand instantly comes to gingerly rub her sore scalp, before scowling at the culprit for the hair pulling. The freshman’s eye is already swelling, and Ally tries to quell the silly surge of pride towards Lauren for getting her good.

She glances at Lauren, sighing in relief that her friend looks unscathed for the most part. Her eyes then come to Dinah and Normani. Dinah is pouting as she tries to fix her mussed hair and Normani is pressing her fingers to her bottom lip in search of blood.

Ally sighs again, and that’s when she remembers the last girl. She searches in a frenzy for Camila, praying she wasn’t a part of this. But then she sees the soccer player, gaping wordlessly at them …completely covered in food.

The principal turns his attention towards them all.

“You seven. My office. Now.”

.

.

.

A month’s worth of scraping gum off the cafeteria tables seems a lot better than a potential suspension. Ally will take what she can get, she decides as they all disperse from the principal’s office.

The two offending freshmen pull Lauren aside to beg for forgiveness. Though from Lauren’s stony expression, Ally figures Lauren is already planning to kick them off the team. But then is momentarily shocked when Lauren accepts their apology stiffly, followed by a malicious threat to stay in line.

(Later on, Ally would find out the girls’ had decided to go after Camila in a misguided attempt lighten up their captain’s somber mood).

“Did you see that girl’s eye? You got her so good, Laurenzo. I’m kind of proud,” Dinah compliments, after the two girls slink away. Lauren’s lips tilt into a small smile.

“Yeah but you practically pulled out her entire weave. That’s impressive,” Lauren responds, a smile finally breaking out.

Not that Ally condones fighting, because, like, she so doesn’t, but it’s nice seeing them get along. Albeit for the wrong reasons. But there’s something so amazing seeing Dinah nudging Lauren in that friendly manner. As if they’d known each other their entire lives.

“You both are ridiculous,” Normani snaps. “I literally just got my nails done yesterday and this happened.” She lifts her hand up to show off a broken middle fingernail. They both laugh and after a while Normani cracks a grin. “But okay, yeah it was kind of bad ass.”

“Kind of? Did you see the other girls?” Dinah demands.

“I don’t really understand how you’re all so happy. We got a month’s detention because you guys can’t communicate like normal people.” Camila’s voice pierces through the lighthearted atmosphere. Ally almost forgets her presence because she had been so silent during their walk through the hallway.

She watches as Camila pulls out a spaghetti noodle from her hair and flicks it to the floor.

“We were defending you,” Lauren mumbles after a while.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Camila snaps. “I was handling it.”

“Clearly,” Lauren mumbles sarcastically.

“You know what?” Camila whirls around. “I don’t need your sarcasm. And I don’t need your stupid sympathy, okay? Today wouldn’t have even happened if you weren’t such a bitch.”

Lauren visibly recoils.

“Mila,” Ally begins but the soccer player shoots her a glare.

“No, don’t do that-“

“It wasn’t my fault,” Lauren begins hotly.

“Like you didn’t plan to have them dump the entire squad’s lunch on me. I have spaghetti noodles in places there shouldn’t be!” Camila snaps.

“Mila, she didn’t know that those girls were going to do that to you. You really think she would send those cheerleaders after you?” Dinah questions.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

It’s the statement that does it. That plunges the atmosphere completely into a subzero level. That makes Lauren look completely heartbroken. That actually breaks Ally’s heart.

.

.

.

It’s another week of radio silence between the two. Another week of Ally and Normani (and now on occasion Dinah), watching Lauren sigh dejectedly into her food during lunch. Sometimes she’d cast a few sad looks over to the soccer team’s table. And the girls would look upon her sympathetically.

Lauren didn’t know which was worse.

The pity or being ignored. While one was infuriating as hell, the other just…hurt.

This morning in particular was brutal. She had run into Camila in the hallway, accidentally knocking her duffel bag from her shoulder. When she tried to reach down to grab it, Camila scrambled to pick it up herself and hurried away head bowed. The exchange – or lack of one – left Lauren feeling like she was a ghost.

“Would you just talk to her?” Normani groans exasperatedly after Lauren recounts the events to the three of them in Ally’s room after school.

“She practically hates my guts.” Lauren mutters into her pillow.

“Look, as much as I love kicking you especially when you’re down I don’t think I can take any more of your moping. It’s actually starting to depress me,” Normani sighs, sitting down beside Lauren on the bed. “And I doubt she hates you.”

“Yeah, it’s impossible for Mila to hate anything,” Dinah chimes in from her spot on the floor.

“Except me.”

“She’s just really upset right now, Lauren,” Ally supplies. “And rightfully so. You really did a number on her. What the heck did you even say to her at the party?”

At this, Lauren feels her face redden with shame.

She had toyed with the idea of telling them, but she feared that they would hate her more than she hated herself. And she wasn’t ready for any more negativity.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lauren mumbles. “It was…it was really bad. And I feel really shitty for it too.”

“Then tell her that,” Normani snaps.

That’s easier said than being done, Lauren thinks. She makes a small grunt that earns an eye roll from her friend.  

Ally comes to sit next to her and places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Lauren, we’ve all seen the way you look at her.”

Lauren freezes at this. It’s the first time they all sort of acknowledge the big pink elephant of the room that is her more than platonic feelings for the soccer player. And she almost expects mockery or insults. But when she glances up to find them all staring at her supportively, she feels a deep seated worry slowly dissipate.

“And we’re all more than positive she feels the same way,” Ally continues, saying just the right thing to settle her confused doubt.

“Really?”

“Girl, of course she does,” Dinah adds in. “She looks at you like you put the pineapples on her pizza.”

“That’s disgusting, Dinah,” Normani retorts with a fake gag.

“Well where else are you supposed to put pineapples?”

“Um, not on a pizza.”

“It’s called Hawaiian pizza.”

“All that should be on my pizza is pepperoni and cheese,” Normani argues stubbornly.

“How can you not like pineapples on pizza? Who doesn’t like pineapples on pizza?” Dinah demands turning to look at them incredulously.

“I like Canadian bacon,” Ally says unhelpfully.

Lauren tunes the rest of the conversation after the two decide to settle the matter by ordering pizza. Her thoughts stray to the soccer player. And a pang of guilt hits her.

When the pizza arrives twenty minutes later, Normani demands (through a mouth full of Hawaiian pizza) that Lauren take her self-pitying ass next door and grovel for forgiveness.

Dinah agrees, and Ally rephrases that advice in a more encouraging manner. The thumbs up did little for her self esteem as they all but threw her out of Ally’s room and confiscated her phone lest she try to uber it back home.

And that’s really how she finds herself on Camila Cabello’s doorstep, desperately trying to think of ways to get out of knocking.

It’s stupid. This is dumb. There’s no way – absolutely no way Camila would even want to see her. The past week, the soccer player has been pointedly avoiding her.

No, that was an understatement. Lauren was getting the cold shoulder. That blatant icy treatment that left her feeling even worse than before the stupid cafeteria incident.

The last thing Camila had said to her was still plaguing her mind. Camila had insulted her, offended every nerve that could possibly be offended and yet Lauren knew she deserved it. Dinah may have been right – it wasn’t possible for Camila to hate anyone. But reducing Camila to the type of person who could be so incredibly harsh to another person just made the situation all the more worse.

Camila hated her. It wasn’t even something to debate.

Lauren hesitates ringing the doorbell. Her fingertips ghost across the button, brushing the smooth surface uncertainly.

A hundred and one things filter through her head and they all revolve around the girl somewhere behind the door.

She doesn’t get a chance to summon up much courage because in the next second the door is flying open and the Camila Cabello is standing before her.

She doesn’t look as surprised as Lauren feels, which is more than a little disheartening, but she tries not to let it faze her. Instead, she straightens up, almost to the point of rigidity.

Relax Lauren. Jesus. Okay. Here we go-

“What are you doing here?” Camila asks just as Lauren begins to form the apology that was burning to in the back of her throat ever since she Camila ran out of her bedroom crying.

Lauren hesitates, suddenly feeling the little flicker of confidence she fabricated fade away. Camila looks all around unimpressed with her display and this only serves to turn her nerves into jelly. Abort, Lauren. Abort.

NO. You will fucking stay and say your peace or so help me god you dumb shit.

“I asked you a question,” Camila snaps. It seems strange, so completely out of character seeing her so angry. There’s a venom that wasn’t there before in her voice, in her sharp expression that leaves Lauren wishing she had come better prepared for this.

A stab of guilt pricks at her chest as she realizes the only person who made this happen was herself.

Lauren swallows thickly, fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist. The attempt to occupy herself with something besides Camila’s steely gaze is pitiful. But then again, she is a coward. She’s not even sure she can look the girl in the eye anymore.

“Look, if you’re not gonna say anything you might as well just –“

“-I’m sorry!” Lauren blurts out. The desperation of the outcry overwhelms her. She’s not going anywhere until she makes Camila listen – to everything. Because she knows deep down this is her only chance. Her only shot at fixing anything that she’s so despicably good at fucking up.

Camila’s glare softens slightly. It’s very miniscule but it gives Lauren the hope she needs.

“I’m sorry, Camila,” she says again, internally quivering at the name that rolls so effortlessly off her tongue.  It comes out so naturally, almost as if it had always sort of had its own place in her voice. As if she was supposed to say it over and over again. Which, admittedly she would do…in the privacy of her room…in the dead of night…where literally no one would be able to hear.

(Of course she would deny ever doing that if anyone asked her).

But it’s the first time she’s ever called Camila by her name. Well the first time non insultingly. And it’s something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the both of them.  Lauren feels her face flush suddenly, and Camila’s eyebrows rise.

“Camila,” she pauses, feeling the nervous little buzz building in her stomach at the name. “I didn’t –  look, about what happened at the party – I didn’t mean it.”

Camila’s eyes narrow and the walls are back up again.

“It sure didn’t sound like it. Just because you defended me last week, which I didn’t even freaking ask you to do by the way, doesn’t mean I’m going to be welcoming you into my life with open arms,” Camila says. “You humiliated me.”

“I know.”

“No. I don’t think you do, Lauren. It hurt. Like a lot, okay?” Camila blurts out. “I’m not even sure I can forgive you.”

Lauren feels that little glimmer of hope crash dive. This isn’t going as planned. Oh what did she know? There weren’t any plans or any go-to instructions for this kind of situation. How were you even supposed to convince the girl that you’ve been stupidly in love with for four years that you want her?

She flushes at the thought and the familiar wave of denial bubbles up in the pit of her stomach. She can barely even admit that fact inside her own head. How could she possibly even begin to explain it to Camila?

The girl practically thinks she hates her, which she doesn’t. Oh god, she doesn’t even hate her at all.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, Camila,” Lauren begins, feeling her voice tremble. “I really don’t. I just – I just wanted to explain.”

Camila stares at her expectantly.

“I didn’t know what people were going to think if they found out,” Lauren mutters and Camila rolls her eyes.

“That’s not enough.”

“I was scared.”

“That’s still not enough.”

“Camila, please.”

She sees the girl’s expression soften again, the aggression slowly crumbling away. It gives her the courage she needs, the motivation to bring down her own stupid barrier preventing her from being vulnerable.

And this time, when Camila speaks her anger has soundly melted. “Don’t be scared.”

It’s just a small request, not even louder than a whisper but Lauren can hear it. The conviction behind the three words. The ounce of moral support beneath them. The figurative hesitant arms being slowly opened for her to walk into and it’s enough.

Lauren takes a deep breath, her heart pounding. She swallows thickly and tries to calm the rapid beating.

“I really didn’t mean what I said to you at the party,” she begins

Lauren almost anticipates Camila to make another sarcastic comment, but she simply stares at her so she continues.

“I didn’t mean it when I told you that there wasn’t anything that would happen between us. I didn’t believe it in the slightest because…I wanted something to happen,” she admits in a rush. “And all that stuff about you being no one was just about the shittiest thing I’ve ever said and I feel terrible. It’s not true at all, Camila. Not even a little bit. I was just – I wanted to hurt you because I was the one feeling like the loser. I’m a shitty person know I am.”

“You’re not a shitty person Lauren,” Camila sighs wearily. The admittance makes her hesitate. Makes her stop and stare at Camila keenly, feeling her chest ache suddenly.

Even in her anger, Camila will still defend her. Lauren isn’t even sure if this should please or upset her.

“I am though. And it’s not even about the night of the party. I know I’ve put you through hell for like years. I’ve just been such an idiot about all of this because I was just so fucking scared of what it all meant.” She stops and runs a nervous hand through her hair. “Because I’ve never felt this way, like ever about anyone and I knew, deep down that you had the power to hurt me in the worst way. And I just, like I just refused to give you that power so I thought that if I hurt you first…” Lauren trails off, shaking her head. The shame that’s kept her up all night for weeks manages to creep back up.

She averts her gaze, feeling the all too familiar burning stinging building. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Camila.

“It’s stupid I know,” Lauren mumbles. “It makes no sense – that logic. I’m an idiot and I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t want to be that person who gets scared over every fucking little thing, or the person who cares more about her popularity than the things that really matter. I just don’t care about that stuff anymore. Camila, I don’t care. I don’t even – I can’t even properly articulate how fucking sorry I am. For everything.  For making your feelings seem like they don’t matter because they do, Camila. They matter so much to me. And…I’m done belittling my own feelings as well because…because they matter too.”

She feels Camila’s eyes burning into the side of her face, almost as if prompting her to turn and face her. But she’s afraid of what she’ll see. Disgust? Anger?

She doesn’t expect the softness. She doesn’t expect the understanding. She doesn’t expect the feel of her fingertips brushing against her. In comfort. Acceptance.

Camila’s warm hands come to grip hers, undoing her tight fist. She feels a palm press into hers and it feels so incredibly intimate that Lauren is almost tempted to pull away. The sudden fear springs up again. The fear of being hurt.

But when she looks up at Camila’s face again, the fear melts.

“What do you feel?” Camila asks gently.

She poses the question that went unanswered in that stuffy room during the party. She’s opening the door of vulnerable opportunity. She’s allowing Lauren a second chance. One that she knows she doesn’t deserve.

A gentle squeeze of their hands prompts Lauren to speak again.

“I feel…” Lauren’s voice dies, as a lump forms in her throat. It’s stupid to get this emotional, she thinks. But god it’s been such a long time since she’s felt anything remotely similar to this. “I feel a lot,” she finishes lamely.

Camila tilts her head. For a second, Lauren feels that she’s going to laugh at her dumb attempt at opening up. But Camila is patient, something that Lauren is beginning to feel grateful for. She’s nothing like Lauren.

“I think you should know, that I…” Lauren trails off uncertainly. She stammers on the spot for a moment. It takes another gentle squeeze for Lauren to calm her nerves. “I think you're the most irritatingly adorable person I've met. I get butterflies every time I'm even in the same room as you, or even when you just look at me because you make me so nervous. And you make me doubt everything and it pisses me off but at the same time I love it because it’s you.” She pauses, releasing a shaky breath. "You’re just – like – I don’t even think you realize how extraordinary you are Camila.”

Lauren averts her eyes. Blearily glowering down at her shoes. Shifting weight between each foot. But Camila’s hand is still in hers. Intertwined. Giving Lauren just enough courage to continue.

“And I know it’s stupid because I’ve been such a bitch to you all of these years. I know it probably doesn’t mean much to you, saying all of this now. I just,” Lauren pauses, searching for the proper words. Her pounding heart isn’t exactly making it any easier. Camila staring at her so intensely isn’t making it any easier either. “I just wanted your attention. And I didn't care if it was negative attention.”

Lauren lets out a shuddering breath. The hand in hers loosens, and Lauren quickly tightens it, keeping their fingers firmly interlocked.

“I wanted your eyes on me. I wanted you to know me. That’s what I’ve always ever wanted, Camila."

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The homecoming game falls on a chilly Friday night in October. The winds send a biting chill as the sun falls into its daily descent. The bright lights of the stadium highlights the puffs of breaths exhaled from excited students as they find their seats on the bleachers.

The football teams congregate on either side of the field, huddling for their plays. The cheerleaders form a tight group on the track, coming closer for warmth behind their short, pleated skirts, awaiting their captain’s presence.

The frosty air extends past the field, curling and slithering beneath the cracks of the school’s double doors, spreading through the empty hallways. Even faintly permeating within the small confines of the girl’s locker room. Where the conveniently absent head cheerleader has dragged a more than willing soccer player away from the loud crowded football field.

Lauren presses Camila up against the locker. She feels Camila squirm beneath her weight and she gets a thrill out of it. Her lips brush against Camila’s forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin, finally resting upon her mouth. Lauren moves them slow and sensually, closing and parting her lips in a delicious rhythm she has become quite familiar with.

Lauren parts her lips again, taking in the Camila’s bottom lip. Her teeth close around them, almost playfully. It would be playful if Lauren’s hands aren’t currently trying to cop a feel beneath the girl’s shirt.

Camila pulls away breathlessly. Her pants beat enticingly against Lauren’s lips, tempting her to close the gap again. But Camila is resilient, even angling her body away slightly.

“Did the girls give you a hard time?” Camila asks, her hands loosening their tight grip in her hair.

“No, it’s not halftime yet.”

Camila nods and leans back against the locker again.

“Do you think they suspect anything?”

“Please. The girls are still betting on Ally’s dumb Operation Camren plan,” Lauren scoffs. Camila laughs. Lauren feels Camila’s fingers play with the ends of her hair, twirling a few strands.

The uneven pace from the kissing has melted, warming Lauren up inside, as if she had her own personal Camila sweater. The thought almost makes her cringe. When did she turn into such a sap?

“You know, without Ally’s dumb plan this probably wouldn’t have happened,” Camila murmurs.

Lauren wants to disagree. She wants to protest and go through her detailed argument of how very much it would have happened anyway. How they were inevitable from the very beginning. It was only a matter of time because they were made for each other.

But it’s stupid and makes her sound like a weenie, even in her head.

Lauren is a lot of things. But she is most definitely not a weenie.

“Should we thank her?”

“Hmm, probably not,” Camila says, glancing down at Lauren’s lips. “I think she’ll be disappointed that she couldn’t plan our first date.”

There’s always the wedding.

For a horrifying second, Lauren almost says that out loud. It takes her a moment to recover from her almost blunder. She secretly thanks the big man upstairs for gracing her with the ability to keep her mouth shut.

(She makes a mental note to go with Ally to church more often).

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Lauren finally responds, eyes roaming across Camila’s face. Her flushed expression. Her red, bruised lips, tousled hand blown out eyes. Lauren feels a quiver of happiness and something not quite as innocent fluttering below her waist. Her nails dance around her skin lightly. Camila shivers beneath her touch.

“Are you cold?” Lauren asks in a soft voice.

Camila glances up at her from beneath her eyelashes and Lauren swears she feels her heart stop.

“A little,” Camila murmurs. Lauren doesn’t hesitate in shrugging off her lettermen and draping it over Camila’s shoulders. “Wait, no I was kidding kind of. You can’t give me this you’re gonna get cold and plus everyone is going to see-“

“I’m not gonna need it during the routine,” Lauren reassures in that same soft tone. “And you’re my girlfriend now. Let everyone see.”

Oh god, did that really come out of my mouth? That stupid cheesey dumb good for nothing line that’ll probably make Camz totally cringe. that’s it I’m becoming a Satanist –

But then she looks at Camila and she’s is staring right back at her with an expression Lauren can’t quite put her finger on. But it easily becomes one of her favorites.

She doesn’t get a chance to speak because Camila is pulling her face down for another long, deep kiss. Their lips move at a heated pace. Lauren can feel the message conveyed in the very contours of Camila’s mouth.

I love you.

It’s not time yet. It’s too soon.

But eventually.

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.

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Ally bundles up in her letterman, standing next to Normani on the track field. The noise of chatter from the onlookers on the bleachers is a comforting sound, setting in her cold body pleasantly. Her eyes glance towards the football field, watching her boyfriend Troy in his gear, stretching by the bench, before running out into the field to replace another player. It’s the last game of the season and the excitement is tangible.

“Any sign of Lauren? The quarter is about to end. We already be preparing for the routine,” Normani complains.

As if on cue, the head cheerleader runs on to the field hurriedly, looking much too flushed for this cold weather.

“Hey,” Lauren greets, unevenly, making Ally and Normani exchange a furtive look. Lauren catches this. “What?”

“You’re all red,” Ally supplies, rather sheepishly because thinking of Lauren doing whatever she was doing (or who she was doing, rather), isn’t something she wants to picture.

“And you’re …flustered.” Normani smirks.

“Where’s your jacket?” Ally adds.

Finally Lauren snaps. “What is with the third degree? Jesus, I’m here aren’t I? You know what just get into formation.”

Both Ally and Normani resist the urge to laugh at the blushing girl.

Ally doesn’t have the heart to tease her further. Instead, she follows Lauren’s lead, falling into place with the rest of the cheerleaders.

However, as the routine progresses, Ally can’t help but notice something –someone – emerging from the very same double doors their head cheerleader had burst from just moments ago. Out comes a very flustered, but very happy soccer player, wearing a very familiar letterman jacket. And if Ally hadn’t noticed Lauren’s obvious shivering, the fact that Jauregui was engraved across the back in gold letters was telling enough.

Ally watches as Camila practically skips up towards the bleachers to sit beside Dinah, looking absurdly pleased with herself. The sight brings a silly grin to Ally’s face.

She glances over to Lauren who is too busy staring down at her shoes. But Ally notices the distinct pink tinge to her cheeks.

Her attention shifts to Normani and sees that she, too, notices Camila’s sudden wardrobe change. Normani smirks. But both remained tightlipped.

Once halftime is over, Ally watches as Lauren scurries back through the double doors leading to the locker rooms. She doesn’t even wait to have a quick debriefing of their routine, which Ally finds almost irresponsible. Well, she’ll talk to her about that later. It’s not like she doesn’t know what’s got Lauren all flouncy. Or who.

As if to further demonstrate this, Dinah approaches Ally and Normani down from the bleachers with a smug expression on her face.

“I see Laurenzo isn’t with you.”

Normani glances over Dinah’s shoulder.

“Neither is Camila,” Normani states, a matching smirk growing on her face.

They all sort of giggle at their observation.

Camila and Lauren were not discreet at all. Whatever secret they think they had was about as subtle as a neon sign. A blinking one. With dancing interchangeable lights. And fireworks lighting up in the background.

If all of the times Ally’s caught Lauren waiting by Camila’s locker weren’t an obvious indication. It’s probably the hickeys she’s absently seen as Lauren tries to hastily change into her uniform for practice. Or the nights she’s caught Lauren wearing what looked like one of Camila’s jerseys during sleepovers. Or the flowers Camila swears were from her father the days leading up to the game, (even though Ally distinctly remembers her father never buying flowers because of his allergies).

Not that she confronted them about it. At least not directly.

A little teasing maybe. Something that both of her snickering friends could agree with and had wholeheartedly participated in.

But no. No. She’s definitely learned her lesson about meddling…at least until that potential future wedding she’s begun making plans for comes into play.

Which, in that case, Operation Camren 2.0 is definitely a go.

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A/N: happy 2018 !