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#like i specifically spent the majority of my therapy session this week deciding NOT to inform him of this

lazarettta · 3 years

Text

The Babysitter

Characters ( Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader )

Rating (T) Word Count ( 2.9k) Warnings ( None, bad flirting, writing while intoxicated)

“For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

It was another late night studying on the living room floor of the Mayfair-Richards household. It wasn't uncommon for you to spend a majority of your nights here during the week and sometimes the weekend if you were needed and you usually weren't. Not that you would've minded anyway, your weekends weren't busy—mostly spent either dead asleep or trying to get out of plans you didn't want to be a part of anyway to get more sleep.

But it wasn't everyday that you were able to work for a Senator either, so even if you were busy, you weren't going to tell Ally Mayfair-Richards that. Not that she was a mean boss or anything, she was the Senator for crying out loud. And...okay yes, maybe you idolized the woman a little though it may be because you're studying law but honestly who wouldn't idolize this woman? She went through so much shit getting to this point in her life and career.

And she was hot. She was really hot but you kept it in your pants, but your eyeballs? Different story. You were just grateful that she chose you to watch her son when she was away, especially after you knocked over your entire cup of tea in her living room on the very carpet you were sitting on, and you were just a hot mess.

You thought you blew the whole thing, but the moment she produced the NDA to you a few days later when she called you back for a 'second interview' which included Ozzy this time, you'd been ecstatic and nearly knocked over another fucking cup but Ally was faster than you that time.

The giant TV was playing in front of you across the room but it was just the news channel but the volume was pretty low because Oz was asleep upstairs and you weren't really watching it anyway, you had your airpods in listening to Beyoncé and trying to create a decent scenario for one of the ten theories your professor assigned. It was due the next day so you thought picking the easiest one would work in your favor but it was turning out to be your worst nightmare—and you'd regretted choosing sleep over this, kind of.

You'd been so engrossed in your work, and music, you didn't hear the front door open and shut somewhere behind you or hear Ally quietly talking on the phone, her high heels click clacking on her polished wood floors as she came into the living room. Ally paused slightly at the sight of you and her coffee table, your books and yellow pads scattered everywhere, your head bopping slightly to whatever you were listening to as you scribbled away.

Ally smiled softly, and continued on her way upstairs to check on Ozzy knowing that she was going to find him safe, clean and fast asleep with a full belly. You'd been his nanny for four months now and you were such a blessing for Ally, she'd been reluctant to hire and trust another person with her baby boy but her career was too demanding and Ozzy was only ten. He could stay home alone for a few hours maybe, but not days or even a week or two.

After everything, Ally did have cameras around her home on the outside and she had one directly over the stairs because it overlooked the foyer and parts of the living room from an angle. She didn't want too many camera's inside of her home in case they were hacked but she wanted something at least.

Ozzy's room was dark except for his nightlight by the door and Ally quietly made her way inside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing his curls from his face. She was ever thankful that he finally stopped having those horrible nightmares, it meant that she wasn't wasting her money on therapy sessions.

When Ally came back downstairs, you were predictably in the exact same spot you were in and Ally finally did away with her coat, placing it over the spine of the sofa and she stepped out of her heels before coming around and plopping herself down, careful not to knock over your stack of books.

The sudden movement startled you out of your skin and you quickly pulled out your airpods and looked at your boss, “Hey! Sorry, how long have you been home?”

Ally smiled down at you tiredly, practically sinking into the sofa and you could feel her exhaustion rolling off of her in waves, and you couldn't help but sympathize because damn, and you thought you were tired.

“I just got in, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, things got busier than I expected and then everything went into chaos.”

You smirked when she threw her hands up half heartedly with a roll of her eyes, “Would a glass of wine help?”

“No, but it would definitely be a start if you join me for a glass?” she raised an eyebrow, and as much as you wanted to say yes you've already procrastinated enough and you really didn't need alcohol in your system around her lest you say something you absolutely shouldn't.

“I would but I have to finish this and it's getting late. Do you mind waiting up until my Uber gets here?”

“It's really late, you should just stay the night, (Y/n).” Ally sat up then, waving away your comment, though now she was closer and hovering over you a bit, “I'll take you home tomorrow after breakfast, that sound fair?”

It wouldn't be the first overnight stay but it would definitely be the first time that she'd be home too and you just couldn't say no to that even though you probably should have insisted more that you go home, but you accepted her offer without further debate. You'd gone back to your assignment, minus the airpods this time, and Ally got up to go to the kitchen and you could hear her fixing herself a glass of wine.

Ally set a bottle of water next to you on a coaster before settling back in her spot and finding something to watch on TV, and of course you noticed that she was a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

Your pen had paused on the yellow paper and your eyes glanced over the same sentence three times before your mind processed that you could practically feel the heat from her legs next to your arm through her slacks, and if you leaned just an inch you'd be touching her. You fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, but instead you looked up from beneath your lashes and saw that she was browsing the movie channels at a snail's pace.

Behind you, Ally was sipping her wine in one hand and flipping channels with the remote in the other but her eyes were nowhere on the TV screen. But she noticed the moment your pen stopped moving and your shoulders tensed more than usual, she'd been watching you closely and curiously.

“You okay, honey?”

You turned around to answer her with what you hoped was a calm smile and wished that you hadn't, really. Ally was going to kill you sitting the way she was sitting, her energy screaming big dick and the top three buttons of her shirt were undone and her hair was a little messy. Either she was going to give you a heart attack or your libido would.

“Sweetheart?”

You blinked, coming back to reality so fast you would’ve gotten whiplash, “Uh, yeah...maybe I guess I’m just tired too.” Yeah right.

You chuckled nervously, embarrassed really, and licked your lips again and Ally tracked the movement with rapt attention not that you would've caught it because you were busy being mortified being caught staring like a creep.

“Are you sure? You look flushed, drink some water,” you smiled at Ally, ever the mom.

“I’m not—” not what? Thirsty? Yeah you were but not for some water.

“You’re not what?” Ally pressed, still holding you hostage with her eyes alone.

“Not thirsty for water.”

Ally raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching and you hate that you noticed, “Oh? Then what would you like to drink if it’s not wine or water?”

Good question. One you didn’t have a good answer to. Not trusting yourself to formulate words into an appropriate sentence, you just nodded and turned back around and grabbed the water she brought you. You were determined to ignore until you were finished with your work—for the sake of your sanity and dignity.

Fuck.

Still watching you, Ally laughed quietly into her wine glass and finally settled on a movie, keeping the volume low as she got comfortable. Deciding to let you off the hook for not answering her question. (This time.)

A few days later...

It was another late night for you but you weren't working for Ally tonight, so you went to the gym instead after studying. You were still wearing your tights and sports bra when you left, only throwing on a jacket because the night air and sweat weren't a great mix.

You didn't have anything at home to eat that wasn't expired or so frozen it came from the ice age...it all went in the trash so all you had left in your fridge was a case of water and cheese sticks. It wasn't surprising though, you spent a majority of your free time at Ally's home and you just ate lunch and dinner there usually. So you went straight to the grocery store after your workout with your trainer.

“Hey (Y/n)!” you looked up and internally groaned, rolled your eyes and threw a whole bitch fit.

You offered Sean a tight near sarcastic smile, “Sean. What is up.”

“Nothin',” he said, leaning against the counter he was standing behind with a cheesy smile, his eyes leering—and it made your skin crawl, “Just working...you?”

“Uh,” you were already over this conversation, “Same, anyway—”

“You still work for that crazy killer lesbian?”

You stopped, pivoting back around slowly to see if he was joking or not, of course it was hard to tell because he was looking at your ass, but the minute he turned around his eyes laser beamed to your chest. Specifically your pebbled nipples and the bars pierced in them. You moved the labels of your jacket to cover them fucking pig.

“Uh, my eyes are up here and two, that 'crazy killer lesbian' is your Senator.”

He shrugged, “I didn't vote for her.”

“I'm...okay, it was nice talking to you but I have things to do.”

“Well, wait,” he moved in front of you, stopping your escape, “That's not what I wanted to talk to you about actually, uh, but listen...do you maybe wanna go to dinner with me this weekend? My treat?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed with his audacity, “You literally just called my boss a crazy killer lesbian and now you're expecting me to go to dinner with you?” as if, you wanted to add but held yourself in check—barely.

“I'm sorry about that,” Sean only shrugged but he was bashful about it but it only served to irritate you further because it was obvious that he didn't quite mean it and you were mentally slapping yourself for just not ordering that damn pizza.

“Whatever, goodnight Sean.”

you tried to move around him but he shifted, keeping you in place and you knew you could've just turned around, you should've but he would've just followed you, “Well wait, you never answered my question. About dinner?”

“No.”

“Well, wait a minute...why not? The lesbian thing? It was just a joke. You can take one, can’t you?”

“And I'm not laughing, get the fuck outta my way Sean—”

“You—”

“I believe she told you to fuck off.”

Sean's eyes snapped up over your head slightly, and you would've laughed at his stupid face had you not been pivoting around yourself, your eyes meeting a very familiar chin and you looked up, but Ally's eyes weren't on you but instead glaring daggers into Sean. He'd be ten feet under if she got her way with that look. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. (Maybe another version of it...)

“S-senator?”

“Oh, I'm not the crazy killer lesbian anymore? How disappointing.” when Sean could only stare at her like a fish out of the water, Ally stepped forward—a lot closer to you and you didn't have the strength to move or even look away, “I believe you were told to leave. Oh and if I even hear that you looked at or said anything to (Y/n) incorrectly, you're going to have a lot worse than a harassment complaint from a Senator to deal with.”

You didn't see him leave but you heard the squeaks of his sneaker and in seconds flat you and Ally were alone in the cereal aisle and you had absolutely no idea how to even breathe at the moment, much less process that she just saved you from...whatever that even was.

When Ally was satisfied that Sean was gone, she finally looked down at you—there was still a fire in them that you couldn't place but her brown eyes were softer than they were a few seconds ago, and you felt your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat, taking a small step back—but you still felt exposed under her unblinking stare though not in the same way you felt with Sean, it was the complete opposite, “Yeah thanks to you, so um thanks...a lot. Your timing is impeccable, but what are you doing here so late? Where's Oz? Is he okay?”

Ally smiled at you, shaking her head disturbing her always perfect hairstyle, “Oz is fine, or at least he will be, he must've ate something today at school and it's not sitting well with his stomach,” Ally rolled her eyes but not at the fact that her son had food poisoning but that he had food poisoning from the school lunch. She could only imagine that other children—reforming school lunches was already on her agenda but now she was seriously considering moving ahead of schedule.

“Oh no, how bad?”

“Not too bad...he'll be okay, I'm just here for medicine to stock up on,” Ally reassured you, her eyes flickering over your shoulder for a second, “What are you doing out so late?” and wearing that? She mentally added, but held her tongue because she knew that it wasn't her place to comment on your attire—not that she was complaining about it, but Ally just didn't like the way Sean was leering at you either. She was a hair away from showing him how she earned her title.

Suddenly aware of how much skin you were showing, and that your jacket fell open again but unlike with Sean you didn't feel the need to really cover yourself (even though you knew that you should've). You appreciated her eyes more than his...and probably anyone else's.

“Oh, I went to the gym and since I don't have any food at home...”

Ally chuckled, “Is this your way of asking for a raise?”

“No! No, no you pay me plenty...I'm just too busy to cook is all and then I'm just too tired to eat sometimes. College life.”

“I was teasing, welcome to adulthood. It doesn't stop,” you laughed along with her but you both knew there was truth behind those words.

“I shouldn't keep you, I know you have things to do.”

“You know, I doubt you're going to get a decent nutrient meal here tonight, especially shopping while you’re hungry...” Ally hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something before opening her mouth to carefully speak those words, “You're more than welcome to come home with me for a late dinner if you have nowhere else to be. I'd be more than happy to feed you.”

Heh. Feed me what? You blinked, mildly surprised with how fast your mind went straight to the gutter and you felt your face heating up faster than a house fire, and you had no doubt in your mind that your boss knew exactly what she was doing to you.

But she didn't, Ally didn't have one clue to what was happening in your mind because her own mind was a pile of scrambled eggs while forcing her eyes to stay above your neck. You were both very much still in public.

And the last thing Ally wanted to do was make either you a cliché, especially with her being a public figure in a male dominant career field, both in politics and her restaurant.

“Unless you had your sights set on cereal?” Ally coughed lightly, suddenly nervous and you realized that you'd been standing there staring at her like a moron this whole time.

“No, I'd love to come home with you,” you said cheerfully, meaning every damn word for different reasons, and you smiled at her, before your eyes widened when realizing how forward you sounded, and suggestive as hell, “For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

Direct result after two blunts...sorry if it's kinda lame tho lmao I went in thinking I was writing smut and gave up somewhere

#ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair richards x reader #ahs cult #ahs x reader #sarah paulson #ahs imagine #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader

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sp3ncer-jean · 4 years

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&&guests may mistake me as (danielle campbell), but really i am (spencer jean + cis female + she/her) and my DOB is (03/15/1997). i am applying for the (event coordinator) position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite (209). i should be hired because i am (empathetic, honest & selfless), but i can also be (pessimistic, fearful & indecisive) at times. personally, i like to (blog & drink wine) when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work.

tw; rape, abusive relationship.

Born on the West-side of the city.

The youngest of 4 kids.

Her whole family didn’t have much growing up. Both parents worked weird jobs to get them all through financially.

She was really close to her older cousin, Dan from a very young age. He would take her out often and they got very close.

Most of the family didn’t think much of it until Spencer turned six, and even then it was just weird glances occasionally from family members.

Spencer herself felt like Dan hung the moon in the sky. He was always kind to her and never made her feel stupid. Plus he was older and gave her so much of his time so it always made her feel special.

It was not longer after her eighth birthday that Dan pulled her to the side and said he wanted to play a new game. She was hesitant at first to give him what he explained as “special touches” but he insisted that it would make him very happy, and she always wanted him to be happy.

This “game” went on until she was eleven. She explained it to her father who was horrified after he realized what this game was. He confronted Dan, who was now eighteen, and he denied it.

Not longer after, Spencer’s three brothers paid him a visit. He was found in an alley all alone the next morning, completely naked and unconscious.

Spencer felt like a husk after she no longer had any contact with Dan. So much so that she began to lash out and she wasn’t the bright and happy child that she had been.

Her mother and father started looking into programs for her but quickly realized that they couldn’t afford any of them. After much conversation and tears, they decided to pack her up and send her to her mother’s widowed sister, Maggie.

Maggie was always very eclectic and outspoken and she’d been lonely since her husband died before they could have any children together. She was so excited to have Spencer come stay with her that she gave her her own completely furnished room with a computer and TV.

Spencer was very hesitant to leave her parents and brothers. She knew that their home wasn’t much, but it was home. Maggie lived on the rich side of town and she wasn’t completely sure if she’d be able to fit in over there. Her mother and father both explained to her that she could come visit whenever she wanted and her brothers would come by as often as they could.

After reassurance from her parents, Spencer packed up the very few belongings she actually cared about and moved in with Maggie.

The first few weeks were a whirlwind of shopping trips. Maggie worked from home for a high profile company and her husband had left her a rather large fortune. And Maggie already adored Spencer and spared no expense for her niece. New clothes, games, furniture for her room. Spencer wasn’t exactly comfortable with all the money she knew was being spent, but she already felt as if she could trust Maggie more than anyone else she’d ever met.

Maggie got Spencer into therapy not long after she moved in. Her therapist explained as gently as she could to Spencer what had happened to her. No one up until that point had explained to Spencer that what Dan had done was wrong, because they didn’t really know how. Maggie had to take her home in tears after that specific therapy session.

Spencer’s therapist suggested different activities to help her cope. She began painting, writing, playing various instruments as well as throwing herself headfirst into her academics all while adjusting to her new life with Maggie.

Under Maggie’s guidance, Spencer breezed through middle school. She made a small group of friends and socialized fairly often in and out of school. By eighth grade, she was in all honors classes and even there she was requesting harder and more complex assignments.

Spencer visited often with her family and grew extremely close to her brothers. Her father often still blamed himself for her relationship with Dan but her mother often scolded him for this as lovingly as she could. As they watched their daughter flourish with Maggie, they both knew that they had made the right choice for her, even if sometimes it didn’t feel that way.

Her freshman year of high school, Maggie requested the school test her for her grade level versus just putting her into freshman classes. Maggie knew that Spencer had much more in her mind than she often led on, and insisted that she be tested. To Spencer’s shock, she tested out of both freshman and sophomore year. According to all of her test scores, she was at a junior year level. She was signed up for junior year classes and started her first year of high school.

Spencer was terrified of the potential bullying this situation would be her into, but much to her surprise, she made many friends with her upperclassmen peers. They often came to her for advice and homework help.

She graduated Valedictorian at the age of sixteen. She had colleges seeking her out before the end of her junior year but she didn’t want to leave Maggie. Over the five years she had spent with Maggie, they had grown very very close. Spencer adored Maggie and the little routine that they had just naturally fallen into.

Spencer took courses to become an event planner/coordinator. It was something she’d always enjoyed helping with as a kid and teenager so she figured why not. Plus living in the Chicago area, she knew there would never be a shortage of people needing an event coordinator. She was able to get all of the certifications she needed in a little less than a year. At seventeen, she began going to the University of Chicago. She majored in Psychology and minored in Visual Arts.

College for Spencer was amazing. She started dating not long after she started attending University because in high school she felt like it just wasn’t the right time after all of her trauma and hung out with the potheads on campus.

She met a guy named Tanner on her first day of classes. He was her ideal man, or at least what she thought it was. He held doors open for her, brought her flowers, and held her hand around his friends. But not long after they started getting physically involved, he started to feel like he had some entitlement to her. He started to convince her she didn’t need to spend time with her family and more importantly, Maggie. He started keeping her at his apartment as often as he could. And quickly, it turned physically abusive. He started to convince her she wasn’t worth any of the time anyone else but him was giving her.

Spencer was finally able to sneak away and see Maggie for a weekend. She was telling Maggie what had been happening and she watched her get angrier than she had ever seen her, even after telling her everything that had happened with Dan when she was a kid. Maggie drove her back to Tanner’s apartment and helped her collect her things, as well as reporting him to the campus.

Tanner did attempt to contact her after he was expelled from the University but Maggie was quick to help her get a restraining order just in case.

Spencer graduated with her degree at the age of twenty-one and on the dean’s list. Her whole family showed up for her graduation and she was given a bouquet by each of her brothers.

Her parents offered for her to move back in with them, but she politely declined. She wanted to stay with Maggie and help her with whatever she could.

Maggie would bring Spencer to the Malnati when she had bad weeks at school for a small get away, so when she found out they were hiring, she jumped on the opportunity as quickly as she could.

#character

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charlie-minion · 4 years

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What were the highs and lows of this year?

I didn’t do journaling on my blog this year, but I didn’t abandon my insightful nature either. I believe this year was better than last year and considerably better than 2017, so I’d like to borrow the last journal entry from last year in order to organize in my head the good and the bad of 2019.

LOWS:

I spent a long time staring at the word “lows” and trying to write something, but every time I came up with an idea, my brain provided a thought that made it seem like it really wasn’t a big deal and that it all worked out for the best, anyway. I guess my psychologist would be very proud of me right now! For instance:

I let go of some friendships and acquaintances.

After uttering this statement, I realized that this was more positive than negative because I learned to invest my time and energy wisely. I learned the importance of giving and taking in a relationship (platonic or otherwise) and the necessity of letting go of those who don’t make an effort. So, in this regard, I regret nothing.

I had another depressive episode and some serious moments of crisis.

This is another low that turned into a high. I started to feel the decline in my mental health again at the end of June and promptly looked for help. I realized the health care system in my country does offer mental health services for free, so I went back to therapy. I had regular weekly sessions with my psychologist for 6 months, and I was properly diagnosed by a psychiatrist. They discovered I had been wrongly diagnosed with major depression the previous times I had hit rock bottom, but in reality, I’ve had bipolar disorder all this time (which makes a lot of sense, truth be told). Without that depressive episode, I wouldn’t have gone back to therapy and many of the highs of the year wouldn’t have happened.

My social service project and master’s thesis took a lot longer than I expected.

However, I can’t complain much about this because everything worked out great in the end. And the fact that my graduation was in September gave my big sister the chance to come to my country and be here with me on such a special occasion.

It took me a long time to sell the missing half of my old property.

But it was worth the wait because a friend of my mom’s bought the house and I don’t carry that burden into 2020 anymore.

I didn’t get a job.

This isn’t true, though. I did get a job. I got a job as the vice-principal of a private school, but I decided not to sign the contract because there were things I didn’t agree with. I was offered two other jobs during the year and I just wasn’t interested in taking them. It took me some time to realize that I didn’t want to get a job because I wasn’t stable enough. I felt pressured to do so because it was expected of me as someone with both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree, but I didn’t really want to, so not getting a job was actually a good thing and the Universe knew better.

I burned the bridge with my ex-girlfriend (whether temporarily or for life).

When I broke up with my girlfriend, I didn’t do it because I didn’t care for her; I did it because I wanted to give her a chance to learn what she truly wanted. She’s still hot and cold and that’s understandable due to her age (there’s an age gap to consider between us). She kind of tried to communicate with me a few times (mostly when she needed something) and I tried to stay friends, but when she approached me a month into my depressive episode of the year, I was not in the right condition to keep playing mind games with her and decided to set very clear boundaries that would leave her out maybe for good. On the one hand, this could be one of the lows of the year, but on the other hand, I simply don’t regret a thing because I had to do what was best for me and my mental and emotional health.

Honestly, there’s not a single low this year that can’t be turned into a good thing. And I know that must have been true in the previous years as well, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to do so.

HIGHS:

All the aforementioned things are definitely highs, but they are the result of an automatic exercise my brain did to transform something negative into something positive. My therapist spent weeks and weeks working with me on this, and I thought this was the most difficult exercise of all, so that’s why I believe she would be extremely proud of me if she saw me doing this unprompted.

Now if I want to talk specifically about the highs, I can mention:

I had a spiritual awakening on January 28th.

When my depressive episode kicked in, I started to doubt the spiritual awakening had been true. Then when I learned about my mental illness, I thought that maybe what I thought was a spiritual awakening had simply been a hypomanic episode. But the truth is that my level of consciousness shifted and there’s no denying that. I may have a serious mental illness and I may be on meds for the rest of my life, but the fact that, from January on, I’ve been very in tune with my intuition has nothing to do with all that. There’s no need to go deep into this because I don’t feel the need to talk about it or convince anyone anymore, and isn’t that even better?

I got closer to my family.

I realized that I didn’t have to turn my back on my family because not everything is black or white. They may not be perfect, but I’m not either; nobody is. So, I made peace with some relatives and got closer again to some others. I’m a lot better at setting boundaries now, so I’m not a people pleaser, but I’m not nasty either. All in all, I feel good about the fact that I may not be as alone as I thought I was.

I released the two major sources of stress I still had.

When I finished grad school and sold my house, I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t have any more papers to worry about, professors or classmates to deal with, or fees to pay. I don’t have to clean my old house or continue paying the bills. I’m finally free! And there’s no better way to start a new year and a new decade.

I got diagnosed and was given the proper treatment.

As I mentioned before, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. It’s not that I’m happy about it, but I was treated incorrectly for so many fucking years, that it feels wonderful to be taken seriously for the first time in forever. I started medication in November and my psychiatrist has been really helpful. The effect of the meds has been evident! There haven’t been side effects and my brain has reacted beautifully to the treatment. It feels like I can use my rational mind now, and I can even keep it together when other people act in a threatening way (which has happened). I’m amazed at how different life feels like from this perspective. I never quite understood why people liked to be alive because all I felt on a daily basis was despair, so to me being alive used to feel like a burden rather than a blessing. It doesn’t feel that way now. I know both the meds and the changes in my life style have contributed, but I can say with 100% certainty that without the meds, I would not feel the way I do right at this time.

I look freaking fantastic!

I have lost over 80 pounds since I started exercising on March 20, 2018. I have a lot of energy and feel good about myself. It’s not just the fact that I’m not overweight anymore, though. I’m proud of myself because I’ve had the patience and discipline to do something that didn’t give me any immediate benefit. I see the results now and everyone praises me for what I’ve accomplished, but I exercised daily for over a year without seeing much of a change, and despite that, I kept going. So, this is definitely a high! I’m missing just 25 pounds to weigh what I want, and I’m confident I’ll be there soon.

I appreciate the people who are still part of my life.

I haven’t let go of every friend; I just got better at knowing when a cycle is over without taking it personally. Some people have returned to my life, and some others have left. That’s just part of life, I guess. The only thing I know is that those who remain mean a lot to me, and I’m thankful for them.

I finally learned what I want.

It was December of 2017 when my friend Kate asked me what I wanted after yet another failed suicide attempt. I couldn’t answer her question because I didn’t know; no one had ever asked me that, not even me. I’d always done what others wanted me to, or what I thought others wanted or expected from me. Last year, when I had to answer this question in my journal, I had trouble giving a straight answer. It was easier to identify what I DIDN’T want. That was progress, indeed, but still not enough. This year, I’ve continued to progress. I know what I want! I want to live as if I had already retired without feeling guilty about it. I want to feel proud about my academic accomplishments without feeling that I’m obliged to climb a professional ladder because of them. I want to have time to enjoy my hobbies and to enjoy the simplest things in life, even if I can’t eat out at fancy restaurants or buy fancy things as often as I used to. I want a humble, simplified life. And that’s exactly what I have right now!

I may not be where I thought I wanted to be 10 years ago, but at the time, I didn’t even know what I wanted. I was just acting in autopilot, following other people’s beliefs of what I should want. I’m convinced that 2020 will be an amazing year precisely because I am EXACTLY where I want to be, and if that’s not where others expected me to be, all I can say is that I don’t give a single fuck! :’D

Thank you for everything, 2019!

HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone, especially to those who read all of this! ♥♥

#not supernatural #personal #about me #charlie talks #highs and lows #2019 summary #it was a good year

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prorevenge · 5 years

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"You're gonna regret that winky emoji"

Buckle down, because if this was a rollercoaster it'd be the Tower of Terror. It's also very long, TLDR at the bottom, if you can find it..

Now, just as a little disclaimer, the person involved may not read reddit but her son very well might. So, I've changed names, places and specific details, and I'm not going to describe the person's appearance. I will however, be telling you of a revenge that started off petty in nature, has since had a pro outcome - and is still ongoing.

I'm a University student (f,19) in *Canada*, studying *history*. Since September, I've been struggling with both my physical and mental health. The problem with a free healthcare system is that sometimes there is long waiting lists for mental health services and despite being put on medication, my condition was worsening. I'd gone to a member of staff, who we shall call PC, to explain the situation. Initially, she was helpful, giving me extensions on assignments and special considerations for my exams. I passed the first semester with a whopping 62%, impressive given the fact I hadn't really been into any lectures.

After the Christmas break, my mental health was so bad that I ended up in hospital. I also struggled to get back into lectures as planned and submit much work. I was seeing the student support team the university had supplied, and the mental health team the hospital had provided. I have a personality disorder and sometimes find it hard to control my emotions, and PC is well aware of this. However, she is going -above and beyond- her normal duties and it's starting to get a little distressing. She'd offer to come to my GP appointments with me, constantly email me (3-4 separate email chains a day), and then got my personal phone number off the university system and started texting me. Being naive, I thought that having her phone number would be useful, as I check my texts significantly faster than my emails.

What. A bad. Idea.

What was confirming attendance for meetings quickly turned into "hope to see you soon", and asking how things in my personal life were going. The event that knocked me for six was when she turned up at my GP surgery after I had told her my appointment went badly. Luckily I was on the other side of town by this point, but she sent me a string of four texts starting with "I'm at the GP, where are you?" and ending in "I'm not going to nag you" before ringing me 3 times despite me hanging up IMMEDIATELY the first time.

(Side note at this point, she very obviously cares about me, but she's incredibly overbearing).

I had gone in for a routine procedure at the hospital to try and sort my physical health out (a cystoscopy, if you fancy a cringe), so she sent me a text asking how it had gone. I'd been put on the same antibiotics as I was before, and when I tried to explain to the consultant that I was already on them and that the pain hadn't stopped in months, I started getting a little angry and upset. Not enough to cause a scene - but enough for them to firmly tell me to leave. I explained this to PC and she replied with "stop arguing ;)". Now, given the nature of the procedure, the position of responsibility PC has and the fact it's coming from her personal phone number, I found this extremely inappropriate.

This kind of behaviour went on for a couple months, I'm trying to keep her at arms length - I still need her in terms of getting assignments in and stuff, but I don't want her reaching in to my personal life - but she keeps trying. She's told me repeatedly that I will have a "fit to work" procedure put in place due to the lack of assignments put in, which would decide my future at the university - and that the options would be getting suspended or getting expelled. This added a load of anxiety to my life and ultimately destroyed my mental health, so after a *not so helpful* session with the mental health team, I submitted the worst essay I've ever written with a sarcastic note at the bottom (still got 18%, success!). In hindsight, this was probably the worst way of trying to get back at her, as PC called me in for another meeting, but not before ringing my boss and my mental health consultant asking to attend my therapy sessions, and then telling me I'm "making it more than it needs to be".

This meeting was hell.

She started off by stroking my knee - not sensually, but wayyyy too close to be comfortable - which put my back up immediately.

She tried to get me to cancel the submission, which I wouldn't, and then told me I'm going to get her fired or reprimanded if I don't. (hello, emotional blackmail).

I repeatedly tried to explain I was struggling, and it's a case of mentally having to fight myself to get out of bed in the mornings, let alone research and write essays, do complex maths and attend 12 lectures a week. She kept shouting me down with things like "Just because you have a mental health condition doesn't mean you're special" and "it took me 3 years of intensive therapy to sort my head out, so you should be fine by August".

Eventually I was frustrated, sobbing and bent over, head to my knees in the chair. This cut off the circulation to my legs after 40 MINUTES of feeling trapped in her office, so when I finally got the courage to leave, I physically couldn't. I made it halfway across the room before stumbling. I didn't fall, I had hold of the table. PC shot up from her chair like she'd just won the lottery and HELD ME FROM BEHIND. I got out as quickly as I could. She later sent me a text (at 22:50) telling me that "it was really valuable".

Finally, the revenge;

I was so angry I decided I was going to come down on this woman like a ton of bricks. I spent 8 hours collating the year's emails and texts, annotating them all and putting them in a folder alongside evidence I was actively seeking medical help - a condition of the university for students who are ill. I affectionately called the folder The Brick, because if all else fails I'm going to hit her with it. This folder weighs at least 5kg, just to give you an idea of the amount of trees I had to kill for this. I submitted a complaints form for 3 separate issues (emails and texts/blackmail/physical contact), as well as a designated form for harassment. This would normally go to PC, but since I was complaining about her, I took it to THE DEAN. Phase 1 complete.

Phase 2 was the picking apart of her emails and making a case for mistreatment. The fit to work panel I attended (after 5 months of being told that it would happen), were going to expel me completely, until I whipped out The Brick and showed them 8 cases of unprofessionalism in ONE EMAIL. My "sentence" was reduced to only suspension, meaning I still have access to my uni email address, and student union services. Useful for phase 3.

Phase 3 is taking my case to the University Legal Team and holding this over the Dean's head until a satisfactory outcome is achieved, or I'll take it to court. I'll keep you updated.

And so, dear redditors, after successfully enacting phases 1 and 2, I can confirm PC has gone on 6 MONTHS of "sick leave". Let me tell you exactly why she's not on sick leave and has in fact been suspended - she was supposed to be on my fit to work panel, 3 DAYS after going on this sick leave; the whole department has been told not to contact her and if they have an urgent matter, they must send it to a different person through an online reporting system which will be "more closely monitored". We were also told that she would not be replying to emails because she's "ill", which made me laugh because she'd been wanting me to write 5000 word essays despite the fact I am genuinely ill. Given the nature of PC's role at the university (handling sensitive information, dealing with vulnerable students), this will be a major blemish on her record at the least, and could well cost her her job and prevent her from getting a new one in the same field. I have since left the university for health reasons, no doubtedly made worse by the actions of PC.

TLDR; tutor at the university harasses me in more ways than one, causes a severe decline in my mental health. I complain with 8 months of evidence and get her suspended/nearly fired, potential legal case pending.

(source) story by (/u/archercolne)

#prorevenge #by /u/archercolne #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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mca-attack21 · 5 years

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Riverdale: Deadly Definitions 6

Here we go again, I hope you guys are enjoying this series. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Feedback is always appreciated. @l4life

Find the other parts here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

The next morning Betty came over to apologize to Archie. The two of them walked to school together and were good again. Veronica had decided to call a truce with Cheryl and was also befriending Josie. Jughead had continued to piece clues together about what really happened the night of Jason’s murder.

That day during Lunch, you and Archie decided that you would work on music before school starting the next day. You were both excited and nervous. You 100% would do anything to help Archie no questions asked. But it was undeniably nerve racking for you to share something like this with anyone.

After school, you went to Andrew’s construction and Mr. Andrews explained in better detail what he needed done. You spent the majority of the time just trying to organize everything. Occasionally you would answer the phone, it was all easy enough. Afterwards you had him drop you off at Pop’s where you ran into Jughead.

“Hey, whatcha up to?” you ask.

“Just trying to figure out what Jason was running from”

“I mean if you were a child of the Blossoms, wouldn’t you want to run away too?” you joked.

“Yeah, but why now? What happened to make him choose now to get away?”

“Maybe he wasn’t running away as much as he was running to something” you ponder.

“Maybe. Oh well, I’m done for tonight.” he said as he closed his laptop, “How was your day?”

“Pretty good. How are you and Betty doing?” you wink.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you two look at each other. And how you too have started doing your own investigations.”

“We are just friends.” he answered.

“For now” you replied.

“In that case, what’s going on between you and Archie?” he asked.

“Nothing, I’m just helping him with his music”

“Sure. But just remember what happened between him and his last music tutor” Jug laughed.

“That is so not funny” you chime in smacking his arm.

“I’m just saying.”

“I think he likes Veronica anyways” you reply bringing the conversation back down.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

When you snuck back into the school (which is where you have been staying since the Drive-In was shut down), it was around 3 am. You went straight for the music room. As earlier stated, this was both exciting and nerve-racking. You loved music, but you had never performed in front of any of your friends before. So, you sat at the Piano and warmed up with some showtunes. Eventually, you pulled out your songbook, it had been a while since you sat down and just wrote music. You were running through a song that you had written, when you were interrupted.

“Wow, how did I not know that you were this good?” Archie asked.

You were so confused. What was Archie doing here in the middle of the night? But then you looked down at your phone. It was 7:15.

“I was just screwing around. Anyways, I’m going to grab us waters. I’ll be back in a minute.” you answer.

“Okay, I’ll get warmed up,” he smiled as he set his guitar down.

You quickly made your way to the closet where you were staying. You fixed your hair, changed shirts, grabbed some gum, and the two waters before heading back to the music room.

“Sorry that took so long, the vending machine didn’t want to take my money,” you said as you reentered the room, “so Archie, what exactly are you wanting to get out of these sessions?”

“I don’t exactly know. I’d like help taking my lyrics and turning them into actual songs. So I guess I just need feedback, and suggestions.”

“That works for me, let’s hear what you’ve been working on lately.” you smiled.

So then Archie began to play. You just listened, he had an amazing voice and was already so good on guitar. As he finished his first song you were in awe. It was so refreshing to hear someone sing about something that mattered.

“Well, what did you think?” he asked shyly as he set down the guitar.

“It was amazing Arch, it needs to be polished and there are a few lyrics that are off rhythm, but it is so good. You really have a talent for this”

“You really think so?” he asked

“Yes I do. Now do me a favor and sing it again but without the guitar” you say as you hope on the piano. You then proceeded to break down the entire song, and then you played/sang it back to Archie. This allowed him to hear first hand which parts sounded slightly awkward. You started writing down his lyrics and bouncing ideas off each other. Before you knew it, the ten minute warning bell for first period sounded.

“Wow, I can’t believe it’s already time for class. This was amazing Y/n, thank you so much” he said as he stashed his guitar away.

“It’s no problem Archie, I’m glad I can help”

And this was your life now. You spent your mornings with Archie working on his music. You went to school like a normal student. And then you walked to Andrews’ Construction. After organizing all of the paperwork you started working on a promotions campaign. You redesigned the business cards, created a free website and uploaded a portfolio of the various jobs they had completed. You answered the phones and helped Mr. Andrews create pitches that were customized to target the specific jobs. You also organized the work schedule and did anything else that Mr. Andrews needed help with. For him, you were nothing less than a godsend. You had already got them two bids and it had only been a week.

You were at lunch with your friends when Cheryl approached you. “Here. My mother has decided that you are all invited to JayJay’s memorial. Even you losers.” she said towards you and Jughead.

“I get that she is mourning her brother, but does she have to be such a bitch” Veronica said under her breath.

“Agreed” Betty chimed in.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to have to buy something to wear to Thornhill.” you directed to the two of them, “you guys want to go shopping tomorrow?”

“I can’t. My mother is still mad about the whole Archie thing” Betty answered.

“Veronica?”

“You know I’m always down for retail therapy.” she smiled.

So the next day you both went to the mall before you went to work. This was the first time that the two of you were hanging out alone.

“I bet that you saw malls in New York that make this mall look like a dollar store,” you commented.

“That is very true” she laughed.

“So I’m guessing that it is safe to say that you miss it?” you ask as you look through the dresses.

“Parts of it. I miss being a family and I’m not gonna lie the luxury of it all was grand. But I don’t know the people here, while simple, are real. It wasn’t like that in New York” she reminisced.

“What do you think of this one?” you asked holding up a black t-shirt dress.

“It’s okay, but why don’t you try this one on,” she replied, holding up a simple but beautiful black dress. You grabbed it and held it up in front of you. It was perfect. But then you ventured to the price tag.

“It’s great Veronica, but I can’t afford it.” you reply putting it back on the rack.

“Nonsense, it’s my treat. I insist.” she said, “Now go try it on”

As you had learned, you never argue with a Lodge. There is no point, you won’t win. “Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yes, it’s the least I can do after you have extended your friendship to me” she chimed, all but pushing you in the fitting room.

You tried on the dress and were in love. “What do you think?” you asked as you showed Veronica.

“You look amazing. I have done it once again” she laughed.

Next, she forced you to find a pair of heels. Her argument was that it would be a crime to wear such a nice dress with average shoes. On the way up to the cash register Veronica had grabbed some other small things. She placed all of it on the counter and pulled out a card.

“Seriously Veronica, you didn’t have to do that” you said as you got into the car.

“It’s fine Y/n, just consider it an early Birthday present.”

“My birthday isn’t until next month” you laugh, “Seriously though, I owe you one. If there is ever anything you need let me know.”

“Okay, and now moving on. What is between you and Archie?” she asked.

“Nothing, we are just good friends who are working on music together.” you answer.

“Sure. The same way that Betty and Jughead are just friends.”

“I’m serious Veronica, and even if I did have feelings for him, I’m pretty sure he likes someone else.” you add.

“Really? Who?” she asked intrigued.

“I’ll give you a hint. She is new in town.”

“No way. There is no way Archie Andrews has a thing for me.” she said in disbelief.

“He hasn’t explicitly told me so, but still it’s kinda obvious.” you say as the car slows to a stop.

“Do you want me to drop off your bags somewhere?” she asked realizing that she still had no idea where you lived.

“No, I’ll hold on to them. Thanks again Ronnie.”

That night you went to the school and showered. You tried on your dress again, this time with the shoes. You looked through the other bag, Veronica had also bought you a necklace and earrings along with simple make-up palettes and perfume. She was good, you hadn’t even seen her grab half of this stuff and you were right next to her.

The next day you accompanied Mr. Andrews and Archie to the Memorial Service. Archie had decided to give Mrs. Blossom Jason’s old jersey. She was almost in tears over it. Everyone sat down as it was ready to begin. Before Penelope could begin speaking, Cheryl burst in wearing the white outfit she had worn the last time she was Jason. She gave a speech about how she missed him and failed him and then was dragged off by her mother.

And from there things were only going to get worse.

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loulougoingsolo · 4 years

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My thoughts on Rhett’s story

Rhett telling the story of his spiritual journey made me feel more than I thought was possible for me, and this post is my attempt to put my feelings to words. I don’t know if any of what I wrote under the break makes any sense, but if you’re interested, go ahead and click through. Just in case, TW: religion and TW: mental health, although I didn’t really go into anything specific.

And because my text is a bit of a mess, if it leaves you with thoughts or questions, I’m open for discussion. Right now I feel like there is a bouncy ball going randomly around in my brain, and I need to spend the rest of this day in trying to make it stop.

I spent most of my 60 minute therapy session yesterday talking about all the things Rhett’s story on Ear Biscuits made me feel and think. I’ve been in a bit of a loop all week, trying to figure out why I felt so much. I’ve never really been able to believe in a god or a higher power, yet hearing Rhett tell about how painful his process of losing faith was, made me feel his pain, and somehow my own, and it confused the heck out of me.

I planned to write a more comprehensive commentary post about this Ear Biscuit, but every time I’ve started, my emotions have taken over me, and I had to skip the original idea of including the links to the books Rhett mentions. Instead of being factual, logical and scientific about this, I’m just going to explain how I felt, why I felt it, and what I think about all this.

So, I’m not religious. Most times, everything outside of logic confuses me. I want to know facts, and base all my decisions on the real things, and that’s just the way I am. I have serious trust issues in my everyday life, but in a way, also when it comes to spirituality. I also have serious issues with maintaining control, and the thought of losing this control freaks me out – in small things and major, life-changing things. Losing control feels like someone suddenly pulls the rug from under my feet, and I fall from an airplane without a parachute. Or as if I was first sitting safely in a boat, but suddenly, I was dropped into the ocean in the middle of open water, with nothing to hold on to, and no solid ground beneath my feet. At this point, if you’ve listened to Rhett’s story, jumping from a boat to water is how he described the moment he realized he could no longer believe in the god he had believed in for his entire life.

Rhett’s religion was based on the bible, and on a complete trust in god and Jesus. His faith was what provided him security, happiness, way of living and a path to follow. He had everything figured out, and all he needed to do was follow this path. There is such security in knowing what you are supposed to do.

I wasn’t raised to believe in god. I believed, and still do, in science and knowledge. At around the same time as when Rhett decided to pursue a path as being a missionary, and saving the souls of non-believers, I was absolutely certain that I had a similar path all paved and ready. I was going to be a science-woman, I was studying environmental biology in the university, and was driven by my desire to save the world. I had found my passion for environmental work as a teenager, and everything in my life was directing me to this path.

Rhett had to really push himself over the years to be able to ignore his doubts. He wanted to believe, because his faith was the basis for his entire being. When he finally couldn’t erase all of his doubts, he suddenly had nothing to believe in – and even though he says multiple times he wasn’t traumatized by anything in the church, he most certainly experienced massive trauma when he had to let go of it all. He didn’t choose to lose faith, yet he did, and losing everything you believe in is traumatic.

Not believing in higher powers, and having all the trust issues I have, I’ve ever only been able to believe in myself. Too bad, it turned out around when I was 23, that I wasn’t quite as trustworthy as I believed myself to be. I’ve been socially awkward, anxious and a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and because of my anxieties, I didn’t ever really get close to other people. I survived through high school and childhood mostly by being pretty smart and just clueless enough to actually realize if someone tried to bully me. I knew I never really had very good friends like the other kids, but I was an introvert, and perfectly happy on my own – and it was my fortune that I grew up in a small community, and went to school with the same kids from kindergarten to end of high school. Life was stable and safe. Too bad, it didn’t really prepare me for the big world, and when life got too complicated for me to handle, I lost faith in myself and was left with nothing.

I tried to be what I expected myself to be, and what I assumed my parents, the society, my high school teachers and everyone around me expected me to be. At 23, I couldn’t return to my university classes after the summer break, and I was in the deepest personal crisis I have ever been. I felt like a failure, and I felt I could never again face anyone I knew, because I had let them and myself down. I sought help, went to therapy, and at one point, realized that the path I assumed I would follow wasn’t for me. I had to tell my family I wouldn’t be going back to university. I had to accept that I couldn’t control all of my feelings with logic, and thus lost the foundation to my existence.

It took me quite a few years of therapy and rebuilding myself to get to where I’m at today. First, I found my joy of making art – something that the science life had almost successfully deleted from my life. I went to study jewellery making, and slowly started to believe in myself again – only to experience quite a few relapses along the way. Despite finding a new path in my life in doing art and making jewellery, I still had to come to grips with the fact that I was on the asexual spectrum, and bisexual, and I’m currently, with the help of my therapist and psychiatrist, figuring out if some of my lifelong problems might be based on being neurodiverse (I’ve been going to tests for this for a while now). All of this has forced me to accept that I can’t control my life quite as much as I’d like, and I’m still trying to find a balance between the logical and the emotional parts of what makes me, me. I feel so much more whole now than back 20 years ago, even though there are so many things I can’t know for sure.

Rhett had to rebuild his belief system, and re-evaluate what his core values in life were. He has gone through the painful process of telling his loved ones that he no longer believes the things they still believe, and he basically had to rebuild his marriage from a different perspective – and by the sounds of it, he and Jessie are now in a good place in their relationship.

What struck me most about listening to Rhett’s story is that despite him starting out as a devoted Christian, and me starting out as more than anything, a religiously scientific, somehow, in 40+ years, we’ve somehow come to many of the same conclusions, and despite the obvious differences, we have a lot in common. We both lost the foundation to our lives and had to rebuild ourselves on firmer ground.

I wouldn’t describe myself a hopeful agnostic, but I have to admit there are so many things in this universe I can’t fully comprehend, and even though I can’t believe in a higher power, I feel connected to everything in this world through nature. Thinking about the universe, I’ve understood that the human existence is such a tiny fraction of everything that sometimes it feels absurd how much time and effort our species has spent trying to explain it all. In the end, all religions are attempts to explain the things we don’t know for a fact, and what we believe is only the result of the culture we’ve grown up in. In the grand scheme of things, we are friggin’ small.

I need to end this (probably very incoherent) post before I get sucked into the loop again – but I also have to get this posted so I can get it out of my system. I think Rhett’s current philosophy of living his life the best way he can, and focusing on this one life he can be certain of instead of worrying too much about what happens after he’s dead, is a pretty good idea. In my own life, I’ll continue on my path of learning to accept myself with flaws and all, and instead of trying to fit into a specific box of any kind, I’ll focus on shaping my own kind of container. I still struggle with accepting that not everything can be controlled, but sometimes losing control can create something pretty amazing. I kind of lost the control of my emotions while listening to Rhett’s story, but after almost a week of processing everything his words brought to surface in me, I am grateful for him sharing his story. I’ve never felt more proud for being a Mythical Beast – being a part of this community has enrichened my life more than words can express.

#ear biscuits #Rhett's spiritual journey #ear biscuit 226 #my thoughts #tw: religion #tw: mental health #rhett and link

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hoonbunn · 6 years

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Side Effects

In which Terra just came back from his surgery and is very high on painkillers. He sees Aqua and asks if he could go out with her. She says she’s married (but didn’t mention she’s married to him) So he looks at her for a moment as it slowly sinks in and he starts a high pitched noise before he cries in despair. (prompt by @chachacharlieco)

Forgive me. I may have had a little fun writing this. I do happen to work at a hospital (non-clinical) and I’m pretty familiar with the surgery process at my specific location. I also wrote this while at work too so LOL. I do plan to make a small comic based off of this too!

Read on Ao3

‘What’s your relationship to the patient?’

‘…’

‘Ma’am?’

‘H-huh? Oh! I’m his wife.’

The woman at the desk smiled. ‘And your name?’

‘Aqua.’

The woman reached over to a stack of what looked like pagers on her desk and handed one to the blue haired woman. ‘Alright, Aqua, if you want to, you can go ahead and have a seat. That pager I just handed you only works here in the hospital. The tracking number you were given earlier-‘ the woman gestured to a large television mounted on the wall. ‘-the numbers cycle automatically and will let you know where your patient is within their procedure.’ The woman turned in her seat to point to a corner in which Aqua’s gaze followed. ‘In that corner we have complimentary coffee and hot water for tea. Feel free to help yourself.’ Aqua nodded in understanding. The look on Aqua’s face must have looked concerned because the woman smiled again. “Don’t worry sweetheart, He’s in good hands.

She stood at the desk for a moment before decided what she should do. Aqua could go for a wander around the hospital, maybe stop at the cafe, but she didn’t want to miss the doctor if he were to come out and tell her how the surgery had gone.

Opting for the later option, Aqua found a set of chairs on the far wall she could sit in and wait. She had brought a book with for the wait considering the surgery could take close to 3 hours; easily an hour and a half alone for the recovery room.

This was the first time Terra was getting a pretty major surgery. Sure he’s had to have stitches for stupid things here at there, but this was the first time he would actually have to be put under anesthesia. When his doctor told him the 6 weeks of physical therapy hadn’t helped his torn rotator cuff, the earthy man nearly looked like a ghost leaving the office after hearing he would need surgery and more physical therapy.

Aqua recalled the moment Terra came home from work complaining about how bad his shoulder hurt. Since Terra worked in construction, he was always doing stupid things at his job. In the past, he’s pulled a few muscles here and there and even then for the few days he was in pain, all he could do was complain. Aqua couldn’t help but be amused as she attempted her usual methods to shut him up; a gentle massage that would usually result in Terra always managing to get Aqua undressed and in bed… or on the couch. Unfortunately this time the results were different.

Terra had been in so much pain that he wasn’t even interested in sexual activities, which was rather odd considering how ‘handsy’ he got most days. Half of him actually complained that the massage wasn’t working and it hurt more. The following nights, Terra wasn’t able to sleep properly due to the amount of pain he was in. After almost a week of trying to convince him, Aqua was able to drag him to the doctor where he found out about the rotator cuff. Terra was forced to take a medical leave from work so he could attend his mandatory physical therapy sessions, all of which Aqua attended. They both thought the therapy was working until a week ago when his doctor told him nothing had changed and that he would need it surgically taken care of.

That morning when they arrived at the hospital, Terra could not sit still. When the nurse had come to get him so they could prepare him for surgery, He almost made a mad dash for the exit. When Aqua was able to see Terra before he was sent in for surgery, she had to contain her laughter at the sight of him. The hospital gown that was given to him hardly fit; his muscles were so constrained in the sleeves of the gown and the back of the gown couldn’t be tied around his upper body. The length of the gown was even more amusing considering it was so short on him that it hardly covered half the surface area of his exposed thighs. At one point, he was about to rip the stupid thing off and lay in the bed butt ass naked.

When the anesthesiologist entered the room to talk with them, Aqua sat next to Terra’s bed and rubbed his arm softly to keep him calm. When it was time for the procedure to begin, Aqua gave Terra a kiss and plenty of reassurance that everything would be fine.

At the moment, Aqua had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the woman from the desk was now standing in front of her trying to get her attention. ‘Excuse me, miss?’

Startled, Aqua looked up. ‘Y-yes?’

Her reaction was clearly common seeing as the woman dismissed it. ‘The doctor will be out momentarily to tell you how everything went. So, for patient privacy reasons, if you’ll just come with me, I’m going to put you in one of our consultation rooms.’

Aqua quickly gathered her things as she followed the woman across the room to where the consult rooms where. When the doctor came in, he told her exactly what she wanted to hear. ‘Aqua, everything went great. We were able to make all the necessary repairs we needed and with just a bit more physical therapy, Terra should be good to go in a few months time. Considering he’s such a… large man…’ The doctor was referring to Terra’s over all size; height and weight, ‘it could be a while before he wakes up. So hang tight here in the surgery lounge and a nurse will bring you to him when he’s coming off the anesthesia.’

Aqua sighed with relief as she thanked the doctor. Before he stepped out entirely, the doctor turned to add something else. ‘Also, Aqua, for the first 12 hours, he’s going to be under some pretty strong pain killers. Since we don’t know his history with such medications…’

Aqua smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll keep a close eye on him. Chances are he will just be extra tired and hardly do anything.’

When the doctor left, Aqua went back to sit down. She pulled out her phone to let everyone know how the procedure went. Their good friend, Ventus, was the first to message back saying he was on his way over to the hospital to visit.

Aqua spent the hour switching between text messages and her book. When the nurse had finally come out to get her, she was anxious to see how Terra was. As she was lead back to the post-op recovery room, she sent out a few more text messages before losing phone service entirely; the hospital unfortunately had it’s dead zones and the post-op area was one of them.

When they got to Terra’s bed, he was passed out cold with a thick line of drool running down the side of his mouth. Aqua considered this to be the first time he’s gotten decent sleep since getting the injury.

Another nurse readjusted some equipment as Aqua sat down in the chair next to Terra’s bed.

‘He was awake not long ago but it seems as though he’s out cold again. You can thank the medication for that. I’ll be back shortly to see how he’s doing and if he isn’t awake, we will see about getting him up.’

Aqua nodded. ‘We’re in no rush. Thank you for everything. By the way, I have another person coming to see Terra… will it be alright if he comes back as well?’

The nurse scribbled something down on to her clip board and smiled. ‘That’s not a problem at all. So long as they’re over 18, we allow two people back here in the post-op area. I’ll inform the nurse liaison.’

‘Thank you.’ And with that, the nurse stepped out and Aqua was left with her unconscious husband. She sat there holding his hand, rubbing her thumb against the side of his hand as he slept. Considering he showed no signs of waking soon, Aqua opened her book on her lap and started to resume her reading.

It was when she felt Terra’s hand clench and his rough voice that it snapped her out of the enchanting book she had gotten sucked into. ‘Gosh… you’re really pretty Aqua…’

She placed her bookmark between the pages and set her book aside. ‘Well good morning there sleepy head. How’re you feeling?’

Instead of responding, Terra lifted the hand in which she was holding so he could look at it. ‘Your hands are really soft…’

She stifled a laugh as she forced his hand back down to rest on the bed. ‘Well, yes but that’s not what I ask-‘ Aqua paused. The medication… ‘Terra, how are you feeling?’

Terra again ignored her response as he tried to lift his hand and reach out to her. ‘Hey… do you think I could take you out for dinner and a movie? I’d like to get to know such a pretty woman such as yourself…’

Aqua internally sighed. The drugs he was on clearly had him delirious and he seemed to have no recollection that the two of them were actually married. ‘Terra, no… you can not.’

‘But why?’

‘Because.’

‘Because why?’

He was playing with her fingers now. ‘I really want to go out with you.’

She chuckled. ‘I’m sure you do Terra, but I can’t. I’m married.

There was a pause. His fingers slipped away from hers as a soft ‘Oh.’ slid past his lips. His gaze drifted to the light fixture on the ceiling. As Aqua was about to ask him again how he was feeling, someone knocked on the door. ‘Come in!’

To her relief, it was Ven. ‘Hey Aqua! Hey Terra!’ Aqua waved but Terra’s attention seemed to remain on the light fixture. ‘How’s the big cahoot feeling?’

Aqua shrugged. ‘Not sure. Since waking up, he’s done nothing but compliment me and ask me on a date. The pain killers he’s on clearly have him delusional…’

‘What did you say?’

Aqua looked at Ven with a confused expression.

‘You know…’ Ven leaned over to whisper to Aqua. ‘Did you say he could take you on a date?’

Aqua snorted. ‘Of course not. I told him I was married.’ Just didn’t mention that I was married to him…

The moment Aqua said the word ‘married’, the pair was startled by a strange noise coming from Terra.

He lies in the bed, eyes streaming with tears as a low whine comes from him. His whine eventually cracks and becomes high pitched to where he’s full on in tears; his eyes closed and his chest heaving.

Aqua immediately is at his side trying to soothe him. ‘Terra! What’s wrong? Are you in pain?’

He doesn’t respond to any of her questions as he shifts in the bed, trying to curl up but all the equipment attached to him prevents that.

Aqua goes to run her hands through his hair in another attempt to calm him. ‘Terra…’

After a few minutes of his loud wails, Terra eventually falls back into a half sleep. He mutters just above a whisper, ‘She’s married…’ before he’s out cold again.

‘What was that about?’ Ven had plopped down in the second chair and leaned back.

Aqua sighed. ‘Ven… this is going to be a long 12 hours…’

#chachacharlieco #kingdom hearts #terra x aqua #terra #aqua #terraqua #modern au #fanfiction prompt

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

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things only you know 1/2

Plot/summary (kind of, not really):

The heart remembers what the mind forgets is what they say, right? At least you hope so.

Otherwise known as your very typical and very cliché amnesia fic (two-shot).

this is my first time writing in second person and I honestly cannot gauge if it’s terrible so let me know how it is

—

You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you let the night breeze wash over you, the cool wind spilling over your skin as you look out into the sprawling metropolis before your tired eyes.

You haven’t slept much these last few nights, the reality that she’s coming back dawning closer and closer until it’s finally here, and your poor, wearied heart hasn’t stopped beating so erratically. Its rhythm getting lost with every memory that tries to fight its way through the seams of your mind.

The New York skyline has always been something that has given you the type of peace that you couldn’t ever fully understand if you tried. It’s why you chose your apartment (you try not to think about how you chose it with her), because the balcony gives you a breathtaking view that reminds you to ground yourself. Maybe it’s the way it makes you feel small, a reminder that a whole world goes on with or without your troubles. That everything is temporary.

You know just how fleeting everything actually can be.

She’s back. You’ve known it was coming for a while. Dinah and Normani are both your friends and you knew, despite your ardent pleas, that Dinah would never not invite her to the wedding, amnesia be damned. You’d reached a compromise with your best friend, however, and you’ve come to an agreement (not without Dinah trying her best to convince you otherwise) that she can invite Lauren as long as everyone keeps mum about your past with her.

It’s the hardest decision you’ve ever made. Deciding that you wouldn’t actively pursue Lauren, that you wouldn’t try to remind her that Hey, I’m Camila. We were very much in love before you jumped in front of a bullet for me and forgot all about me.

Her mother, Clara, had begrudgingly kept in contact with you in the past two years (twenty-five months and two weeks to be exact) if only to make sure you aren’t executing an elaborate plan from across the Atlantic of trying to remind Lauren of her past with you. Her mother had begged and cried and gone down a step from her self-righteousness for you to keep quiet and you couldn’t really do much but agree. Lauren doesn’t remember you. There’s no point. She does remember, however, her mother.

You know all about her relationship with her mom. They had been best friends, closer than any mother and daughter that you know until Lauren went off to college. Until Clara found out that Lauren had no intention of marrying her childhood best friend, who is conveniently the sole heir of one of the Jaureguis’ major partner companies. A marriage would have sealed the deal of the merger of the century. Lauren chose you over her inheritance. She chose you over her family. She chose you over her own mother. She chose you over and over and it tugged at your heart in the most agonizingly beautiful way.

Because as much as you saw the sincerity in her green eyes whenever she reassured you that she loved you more than anything else in the world, you also know how much it broke her heart to have such a strained relationship with her mother. She chose you, but you knew how much it hurt her.

And now, now is her chance for a new start with her mom and who are you to stand in the way when she doesn’t even remember you? You don’t have a claim on her anymore and that’s okay. You have to be okay with that. You know how much she wanted to repair her relationship with Clara and you’re finding it hard to take that chance away from her.

Especially now that she’s come back. Clara had told you that Lauren had spent the last few months trying to fill in the four-year gap in her memory and she’d convinced Clara to go back to New York in her pursuit of her old self.

The bullet that had been lodged in her brain had given her nothing but minor memory problems at first. The doctors had deemed it too dangerous to try to take the bullet out and they had been content in leaving it in Lauren’s brain. That was, however, until it led to increasingly persistent seizures and blackouts. You saw how her memory problems also became more and more severe. When her family found a neurosurgeon in London that was brave (crazy) enough to try the surgery, Clara didn’t hesitate to fly Lauren over and have the procedure done immediately.

You learned that the surgery was relatively successful. There were huge risks of paralysis, speech impairment, permanent brain damage, life-threatening seizures – the list went on and in the end, Lauren came out mostly unscathed. The only major consequence was losing her memory of recent years, specifically her last four years – or as better described, her time with you.

You tried to keep in touch while she was in London as much as you could but it wasn’t long before you found out about her memory loss. They told you the damage to her brain affected one type of memory the most, which means she remembers most things. Her implicit and procedural memory remain intact (she hasn’t forgotten how to drive) and the semantic part of her declarative memory is mostly unaffected (she can remember most general facts, like how the government is supposed to work). Her episodic memory, however, which is the type of memory that is in charge of personal facts, has been largely affected.

You didn’t believe it at first, convinced that it was one of Clara’s many attempts to keep you apart. But then she sent you video diaries and therapy sessions of Lauren and you watched in agony as the love of your life struggled to remember anything about her life in the last few years. You felt your heart crack in your ribs and you knew then that you’d lost her.

You met as sophomores in college and it took a couple months of stubborn back and forth before you both got your heads out of your asses and finally got together. You’ve been together since and moved into an apartment right after graduation, living a full year of domestic bliss before the rug was pulled out under your feet.

Your friends don’t know much about Lauren’s life in London, just that she lost her recent memory and doesn’t remember the last few years in the same way Lauren doesn’t know much about her old life in New York. She knows she has friends there and knows about Dinah, Normani, Zayn, Niall, and Liam because she grew up with them and their parents worked together in the same business circle, but Clara of course, had been less than willing to let her know about the people she’s met in college, namely you. She remembers them as her friends before college but doesn’t quite remember the experiences she had with them while in college. But you discover soon enough that Lauren took the chance to go back when she got the wedding invitation and found out that an old friend had invited her to their wedding. You learned that she wanted to take the opportunity to learn as much as she can from the years missing in her head.

When Clara asked you to not say anything to Lauren regarding your past relationship, you wanted to scream at her. Tell her that Lauren deserves the truth. That you wouldn’t be part of her scheme to keep her daughter in the dark. But then you saw pictures. Pictures of Lauren looking the happiest she’s ever been with her mom while they were in London and you can’t help but think that maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that your time with Lauren wasn’t meant to be forever, that this is her chance at a re-do. That you had been nothing but a mistake.

So you let go. You figured you might as well get started on the whole process of moving on in case you might see her again. It’s two years later and you don’t think you’re anywhere near moving on but you figure that the universe hasn’t always been the kindest to you anyway. Giving you the best thing that has ever happened to you, only to take her away while leaving you with all the memories.

So you swallow hard and woman up. You can do this. You can face the love of your life who remembers nothing about you.

—–

You can’t do this.

You decide that the moment your feet touch the gravel path that leads up to the entrance of the private resort where Dinah and Normani’s wedding is going to take place as you get out of the cab that’s brought you here.

You’re in Oahu because it wouldn’t be a Norminah event if it wasn’t extravagant and not even the breathtaking scenery that surrounded you on your way to this resort has taken any sort of edge from your body at the thought of seeing her again. You’re going to actually see her and hear her voice and feel her presence after what seems like a lifetime and you don’t know if you could do it without your heart beating out of your chest or your breath leaving your lungs completely.

So you stand like a fool in front of the gigantic resort house while the employees patiently stand to the side, unsure of how they’re supposed to act. After welcoming you and taking your luggage to your room (because yes, you have your own room in this house slash mini-mansion), they’ve given up on trying to communicate with you when you couldn’t say anything intelligible beyond your name.

You take a deep breath and run a hand through your hair, silently praying that it’s not as bad as you think after that eleven-hour or so flight and make a move to open the door and actually let yourself in. You see the employees take a subtle breath of relief now that they’ve seen that you can, in fact, move on your own.

You enter the house and you’re greeted with an open foyer that’s brightly-lit by all the natural light being brought through by the glass walls that make up most of the place. Across from where you’re standing, you can see the other side of the house ends with a huge sliding door that opens to a wide outside porch, and beyond that, the beach is only a few yards away.

You take in the serenity around you and try to use it as much as you can to calm the nerves you can feel buzzing inside you, your heart beating thunderously in your chest, almost drowning out the voices you can hear floating from the where you assume the living area is. Where everyone – including her – is undoubtedly catching up on everything they’ve missed since graduation.

These are the people closest to your heart. You’ve built quite the formidable circle of friends through your college years, and even though you never thought for a second you’d actually make any real friends, much less meet the love of your life while studying bioengineering, you’re forever grateful you’d met them and at the same time regretful that you hadn’t made as much effort in the last couple years in keeping in touch.

You’re the last of your group to arrive because you had done your best in delaying the inevitable, citing work and a busy schedule in your attempt to spend as little time as possible being in the same island as Lauren.

And as you walk into the living room, you hear the talking die down for all of two seconds before the room erupts in obnoxious (you’re really actually quite endeared, but you won’t ever say that aloud) cheers and variations of Well nice of you to join us and Aye, Cabello in the house! And Damn girl, did your booty get even bigger?

You’re lost in a sea of hugs and I’ve missed you much before you’re enveloped in a familiar, bone-crushing hug after seeing a blur of wild, curly, blonde hair rush towards you and you can’t help but smile as you return the enthusiastic embrace of your best friend.

She’d been there for you more than anyone else you know in the last couple years and you don’t think you would have survived with your sanity (mostly) intact if it hadn’t been for Dinah. You see a much more graceful and composed Normani come up to you and wrap you in a hug that’s just as sincere and warm and you’re almost overwhelmed with emotions as you’re surrounded with the people you love most.

Then you see her and your world stops.

You’re sure it actually stops in the second it takes for your eyes to meet hers and it feels like the weight of the last two years is crashing down on your entire being.

Nothing – no preparation, no warning – could have made you ready in seeing her again, in seeing those green eyes focus on you across a room full of people as if there isn’t anyone else but the two of you.

You’re thankful Normani still has you in some sort of side-hug because you feel your knees giving way with every second that she has her eyes on you.

You almost want to laugh out loud at how you ever thought you could genuinely see her again without your heart pulling you right back into the past, right back into how she made you feel every day that you were lucky enough to be with her.

It’s instantaneous and mind-numbingly slow all at the same time. The way your breath catches in the back of your throat, how you feel the blood running through your veins thrum loudly to the beat of your erratic heart, your entire body attuning itself to no one and nothing else but her. Like it’s never known anything else but her.

She’s all-encompassing and the way she holds you captive is all-consuming and you don’t think you have a say in the way your heart jumps out of your chest, only to perch itself in the palm of her hands, making itself comfortable in the only place it recognizes as home.

It feels as if everything and nothing is the same. She doesn’t look different in the slightest bit - the way soft lashes flutter over the most mesmerizing pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen, plump lips that curve in soft smiles, high cheeks that tinge in the slightest shade of pink whenever you called her beautiful, and soft, wavy dark hair that frames her delicate features in the most captivating way – she looks like no time has passed and she very well could be returning from work and you’re waiting for her at home, having cooked her favorite dish because you know she probably ate little to nothing during lunch, too consumed with her work to eat anything.

Except everything has changed. It’s been two years of her not remembering you, not knowing that you were supposed to be in love. Not having a single clue of how much of a hold she still has over your heart. Not knowing that she’d promised you forever but now you’re left with nothing but memories instead.

It’s been two years of these memories – memories of how she woke you up with light kisses and bright green eyes, tender smiles and reverent touches. Memories of her dealing with every single breakdown you had in college. Memories of you and her cuddling all night and just talking about everything and nothing at all until the rays of the sunrise peeked through the blinds of your bedroom window. Memories of her making you pancakes at two in the morning for no other reason than you wanted some and she loves you. Loved you. Memories of her fighting for you.

Memories of her loving you.

You used to share all these memories with her, but now you’re left to carry all of it by yourself and each memory feels like a burden that’s been weighing down on your heart until it’s been crushed into nothing but shattered pieces and you really wish you could forget too.

You wish you could forget how her touch had the ability to calm you like sunshine after a rainy day. How her lips on your skin feel like tiny sparks that alight your nerves – your entire being – until it’s spread through your chest like wildfire. How her eyes could see through your smile and the façade you put up for everyone else. How she can read you like a book, know every word that makes up every part of your mind that you hadn’t even read yourself. How she used to know you like no one else before and now you’re not sure she’s even gotten the chance to learn your name yet.

Have they talked to you at all in the few days they’ve been here?

You find out the answer to your question when Dinah’s voice breaks your staring contest and it shatters through the moment like lightning flashing through the sky. You blink hard and fast and try your best not to get lost in those damned green eyes as you try to compose yourself, trying hard not to give too much thought about how she looked at you. How she stared at you with confusion marring her beautiful features yet at the same time, it was like she was figuring you out. Almost like she was curious. You tell yourself it’s your imagination playing tricks on your poor, hopeless romantic of a heart because hope is a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“And this is Camila,” Dinah’s voice brings you back to reality and her next words almost make your heart stop. You may need to see a doctor after this whole thing is over because your heart can only skip so many beats before it starts to just give up on you. “She was your best friend.”

Of course. You should have known Dinah wouldn’t completely let S.S. Camren go. She’d been instrumental in getting the two of you together when you and Lauren had been too stupid to do something about your feelings (see: it was mostly you that was stupid. You had genuinely convinced yourself that there was no way Lauren Jauregui, heir of the biggest global shipping company in the world, collegiate superstar of like a million different sports, and the same Lauren that has girls and guys constantly fawning over her, had any real interest in you, Camila Cabello, an essential nobody in your gigantic university).

Dinah was there to put you two together and you really should have expected that she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She’d sink with this ship long before she surrenders to something as trivial as amnesia. You shouldn’t have been so silly.

So here she is, smirking like the goddamn Cheshire Cat while you try to subtly glare at her for trying to exploit loopholes in your agreement, while you swallow hard and hope Lauren can’t see the way your pulse must be thrumming against your skin with how hard your heart is beating in your chest. You’re sure that your ribs are actually starting to bruise. It’s been 2.52 seconds of being in the same room as Lauren and you’re ready for the emergency room. You hope you can make it out of this wedding alive.

So they haven’t told Lauren that you used to be in love, but they’d settled with you being her “best friend” apparently, and knowing that Lauren had been in pursuit of trying to fill in her memory loss, you know you’re going to have to pretend to help Lauren remember her past without telling her your actual role in her life – or at least, what your role used to be. Because everything that has to do with you and Lauren is in the past. You have to remind yourself this fact, lest you do something you’re not prepared to face. At least it won’t be hard to explain why you and Lauren were always next to each other in all of your group photos – if she ever came across one. You were “best friends” after all.

“Camila,” your name falls from her lips with the same sweetness it used to and it knocks the air right out of your chest, rips the strength from your knees and you wonder if everything would be easier if you just succumbed to it all and passed out right there. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” her brows furrow in the most adorable way, and lightly chuckles through her next words. “Again. I’ve heard so much about you.”

You’re not sure if you want to strangle your friends or give your first born child for all of them to share.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak out despite everything that seems to be overwhelming you at the moment. It’s like every cell, every fiber, every muscle in your body are all aching to reach out to her and take her in your arms, feel the warmth you know she probably still has and just bask in all of Lauren like you always used to do whenever everything felt like it was closing in on you. She had the uncanny ability to calm your soul with a single touch, ease your mind with a few soft words, and lull you into a sense of peace with her soothing voice. You used to lie your head on her chest and feel the steady rhythm of her heart beating against you, using it as your own personal reminder that no matter what happens, Lauren will always be the one thing in your life that’s steady.

At least, that’s what it used to be.

She reaches her hand out for a handshake and you want to laugh at the way her face contorts in the subtlest of ways, as if she was berating herself for doing something so formal, but you want to ease her worries and you don’t hesitate to take her hand in yours.

You regret it immediately.

Her touch ignites sparks that run from the tips of your fingers and spread through your veins, heating up your entire being and making you feel the most alive you’ve felt in the last couple years. Her touch burns you in the most beautiful way until you’re nothing but embers of the memories you used to share, floating helplessly through the air and you briefly think that you’d gladly be reduced to ashes if it means you get to bask in that touch.

It burns because you remember when that touch was purposeful, running along your skin with utmost reverence, lighting up your heated skin as she had her way with your body. You remember when that touch was gentle and warm, comforting you in the most delicate way, holding your seams together when you felt like everything was falling apart.

You wonder what’s going through her mind while yours is bombarded with memories of what used to be.

Your moment is broken for the second time when Harry clears his throat and you pull your hand away, immediately running it through your locks because you can’t trust yourself not to reach out again. She seems to come out of her own daze and shoots you a small smile before the attention is brought back to Hailee, who – bless her heart – starts telling the whole group about her plan of fulfilling her dream of hooking up with someone at a wedding. You briefly note the frown on Niall’s face at the mention of said plan and you wonder how long it’ll take for the two idiots to realize they’re in love.

The rest of the day goes on without too much trouble for your heart. You think you’d done a good job of keeping your composure while being in the same room as Lauren. You commend yourself when you didn’t go full on heart-eyes whenever she let out a laugh or did that smile that always manages to take your breath away, even when it wasn’t directed at you, but the look on Dinah’s face and the subtle shake of Normani’s head in your direction tells you that you might not have been as subtle as you think.

You find out that your closest college friends, Lauren included, are all staying in this gigantic mansion resort house thing, while Normani and Dinah are staying in two different houses within the same private resort with their respective families, and the rest of the guests are housed in a nearby hotel.

You hope and pray that your room is on the opposite side of the house from Lauren’s, but because the universe is out to get you – or really, your friends are massive dicks – you also discover that they’ve managed to assign the bedrooms so that yours is not only right next to Lauren’s at the end of the hall in the second floor, you’re also sharing a bathroom with her.

You need a cigarette and you don’t even smoke.

******************

A/N: flashback to the college years

You sigh as you set your bag on the designated table in the learning center of the library and pull your notes and necessary textbooks out, neatly laying them over the surface and picking up a pen to twirl around your fingers as you wait for the person you’re tutoring today.

It’s the first semester of your sophomore year and you’re ready for the challenge ahead. You’d successfully survived your first year, passing all the fundamental “weed-out” classes (named as such for challenging introductory science courses that weed out students who aren’t really meant for the hard sciences) of your engineering major with a biological sciences track and managing to do so with little to no scandal to your name, which is a lot more you can say than some of the people on your dorm floor.

You’re tutoring for a class you aced in your very first semester and although you’d like to tutor a slightly more challenging class, you found out that they reserve those spots for the upperclassmen so here you are, paying your dues until you can move up the academic ladder.

The person is, of course, late and you wonder why someone would waste your time like this as you scowl at the entrance of the center, wondering who it could be. There’s an online sign up for available spots for tutoring and all you know is that somebody has registered for your slot. They simply get directed to your table, which is labeled with a number, but you essentially don’t know what to expect. It’s like a blind date. An academic blind date. You really need to get out more.

You wait a couple more minutes until your attention is drawn to the door once more and you see no other than Lauren Jauregui walking in with her leather jacket and combat boots and messy hair and green eyes, and really, who does she fucking think she is walking in like she’s in a goddamn runway. You silently pray for the poor soul that has to tutor her until you see her green eyes scan the room, land on your table, and promptly start walking towards you.

The poor soul is you. Of course. You watch her eye you up and down and a smirk spreads across those plump lips as she seems to glide towards you. Honestly, it’s like everything you’ve ever heard about this girl is true. And you’ve heard plenty.

Everyone knows Lauren Jauregui. Soccer slash softball star. Mega-rich daughter of the world’s largest shipping company and walks around with the world at the tip of her fingers. You’re pretty sure her goal is to sleep through all the 10s in the university if you’re going by the stories you’ve heard. It seems like everywhere you go, some girl, some very very attractive girl who could probably get anyone they wanted, is crying over a broken heart or condemning Lauren to hell for sleeping with them only to never call them back. She beds them and breaks their hearts. She’s even slept with your friend Sarah, who swore off women for the longest time after the disaster that was Lauren Jauregui.

She’s like the girl version of John Tucker. Honestly, you’re convinced John Tucker is the male version of Lauren Jauregui. Those fuckboy movies you’ve seen? All based on Lauren if anyone asks you.

And now, of course, you have to deal with her. Not that she’d definitely want to sleep with you. Her type is more that of a supermodel than the average bioengineering major.

“Hey, princess,” she greets you in a husky tone you did not expect, which really, you should have just assumed that her voice would be sexy as hell too. It only makes sense to complete the whole package.

You groan internally as you force a smile you know probably looks more like a grimace. “Hi, I’m Camila and I guess I’ll be your tutor this semester.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” You really want to do something to wipe that stupid smirk off but you need this job.

“Okay, Lauren is it?” You ignore the rise of her eyebrow at you knowing her name because you know she’s used to it. She must know people know who she is. “Look, this is important to me and I’d really appreciate it if you took this seriously.”

Her face looks serious for a second as she mulls over your words and a smile forms on her lips that you think could definitely pass for genuine. “Sure, yeah of course. I do need to pass this class,” she gives you an easy shrug and you sigh at how much harder you thought that was going to be.

You wonder why she’s in this class anyway. This fundamentals of biology class is an entry course that’s required for science majors mostly and you know Lauren is majoring in business to prepare for her eventual taking over of their family’s business. You find out the answer to that question when she tells you she registered too late and the basic science class that most non-science majors take to fulfill their science requirement had been filled up by the time she registered. So now she’s stuck with a more challenging science course and she explains that she really needed to get her general education requirements out of the way before she can get started on her upper-level business courses.

The next few weeks of tutoring Lauren turns out to be quite enjoyable, to your utter chagrin. She’s incredibly charming without trying. You’d expected the flirting. You figured she was the type to flirt with anyone with a heartbeat and yet what you didn’t expect was how effective it was. It wasn’t obnoxious or overly sexual like you’d assumed it was going to be. It was subtle and sweet and even genuine at times.

She’d compliment you about your smile in your most unguarded moments and then look at you with those stupidly green eyes like she’d actually meant it. She’d bring snacks to the tutoring sessions and she’d mastered the very specific way you like your coffee after one time of you casually mentioning it. She even walks you to your dorm whenever your sessions are scheduled at night and it lasts longer than you both expected.

She’s also very smart. You have long conversations about the state of the world and you see the compassion and fire in her eyes, hear the sincerity in her voice when she talks about human affairs and how we should be doing better, working harder as people living on the same planet instead of constantly tearing each other apart.

She also has no problem understanding the material at all despite her saying she hates science at least twice every tutoring session. You wonder why she’s continuing to avail your services after she shows you the third major exam that she had aced, presenting it to you like it’s a prize as she smiles widely, cheeks bunched up and eyes twinkling before she proceeds to take you up into the nicest hug you’ve ever gotten. Because you’re at this point in your relationship. You give each other hugs and smile at one another when you see each other on campus.

You’re pretty sure you’re friends. Sarah would be so disappointed with you if she ever found out.

She’s also introduced you to her closest friends, Dinah, Normani, Zayn, Niall, and Liam. And you find out that even though they’re all filthy rich as well and have inheritances that could have them set for three lifetimes, that they don’t embody the rich kid stereotype. Dinah and Normani are high school sweethearts and you learn that Zayn and Lauren are very close. They’re like bromance close. It’s cute really, but you’d never say that to her in person. You have a feeling she doesn’t take to being called cute very well, what with her badass reputation she has to uphold.

You somehow have managed to introduce your own friends, Ally, Hailee, and Harry and you’ve formed quite the circle of friends. Everyone gets along surprisingly well despite coming from different backgrounds and you think that tutoring Lauren Jauregui might not have been the worst thing to ever happen to you.

—

The thing about spending a lot of time with Lauren is that she’s very pretty. And smart. And honestly, an actual cinnamon roll and you can feel yourself falling, which – is very problematic for various reasons. You’ve both given up on using the tutoring sessions as a very thin-veiled excuse to be together and have since spent time together just for the sake of hanging out.

You know you should really stop this whole falling thing because it can only end badly for you. She’s Lauren fucking Jauregui after all. You’re 87 percent sure she doesn’t do relationships and you’re even more sure that she wouldn’t ever like you like that and you really need to get a hold of your feelings before you make it weird and lose a pretty good friend.

“Hey, Camz,” she comes up to you bright and happy and you lose yourself in the green of her eyes as she casually drapes an arm over your shoulder as you both walk to – you’ve forgotten where you’re walking to. You tend to lose all sense of things when Lauren’s presence is all-encompassing and you’re completely at her mercy.

“Hey, Laur,” you say with a smile of your own and you hope it doesn’t look as lovesick as it feels.

“You wanna go out tonight?” There’s a subtle tremor in her voice, a quick dent in the confidence that always surrounds her, that you wouldn’t have noticed had you not been so close to her and if you weren’t so – you know – completely in tune and smitten with everything that is Lauren. Which makes you wonder because, why is she nervous? You go out all the time.

“Sure,” you say with an easy shrug and a smile you hope is comforting. “Let me put it in the group chat to see if anyone can join us.”

You’re in the middle of pulling your phone out when Lauren’s voice stops you and your breath hitches at the back of your throat.

“I was kinda hoping it’d just be the two of us?” she asks unsurely and she’s taken the hand that’s not around your shoulders to mess with her hair and now you’re sure that she’s nervous. “I just feel like we haven’t had much time together without everyone being there you know?”

“Uh sure, okay,” you agree because she’s right. You used to spend a lot of time just the two of you. And you love your friends, you really do, but you do miss having Lauren all to yourself.

—

“That’s what we’re using?” you ask incredulously as you stand on the curb with your arms crossed against your chest with zero plans of moving because if Lauren thinks you’re riding on that two-wheeled death trap, then she’s absolutely lost her mind. She owns like, at least four other cars. Why she chooses to risk her life like this, you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

A smile forms on her lips that is simultaneously infuriating and endearing as she stands up straight from where she was leaning on her motorcycle. “Yes, come on. Stop being such a big baby,” she says teasingly as she reaches out for her leather jacket, which was draped across the seat.

And oh god she’s putting the leather jacket on. You’re helpless against the leather jacket. You can feel your resolve crumbling as she approaches you with her spare helmet, charming smile on full display. “Come on, princess,” she smirks as she puts the helmet on your head, ignoring your poor attempt at a scowl because you really can’t be mad at a smiling Lauren.

She gently brushes your hair to the side as she secures the helmet strap around your head, winking at you for good measure and she really doesn’t even have to try hard for you to follow. You watch helplessly as she swings a strong leg over her bike, secures her own helmet, straps her backpack to her front, and reaches out a hand for you.

You hesitate only for a second before taking her hand and letting her help you get on the motorcycle, wrapping your arms around her midsection loosely before you feel more than hear her laugh.

“What?” you ask in your best attempt at trying to seem annoyed.

“You’re gonna want to hold on tighter, baby,” she says as she turns her head slightly and you just know she’s smirking behind that stupid shield. Her words barrel right through you and wrap around the pit of your stomach as you don’t think you’ll ever get used to her calling you things like “princess” and “baby.”

“Whatever,” you mutter to yourself.

“Okay,” she shrugs as she leans forward in the slightest, lightly revving the engine and slowly positioning the motorbike to get ready to go. “Suit yourself.”

You yelp and instinctively hold onto her tighter as she speeds down the road, her laugh filling the air around you and you’d totally smack her if you weren’t holding on for dear life.

You make it to the beach with all your limbs intact and as you struggle to fix your helmet hair, you watch in awe as Lauren disembarks the bike, removes her helmet and shakes – yeah she actually shakes her hair out like she’s in a freaking movie or something – her hair out flawlessly, her dark, wavy hair flowing in the wind, her scent easily mingling with the sea breeze and your heart is beating so hard in your chest you wonder if it’ll manage to completely jump out and hand itself to Lauren.

You pretend it hasn’t already done that and that you have some control over your heart.

She leads you to a part of the beach you haven’t seen before and takes your hand in hers and you have to pretend like her touch isn’t causing a pandemonium inside your chest, a beautiful kind of chaos erupting from the depths of your poor, smitten heart.

You come across a lighthouse and you don’t even question it when she casually pulls out a set of keys that open the humongous doors at the base of the lighthouse, replaces the keys into her backpack and takes your hand once again, giving you a cheeky smile when you raise your eyebrow at her.

You’re sitting at the top of the lighthouse, out on the surrounding balcony that faces the ocean and your legs are dangling haphazardly through the railing while you sit side by side with Lauren, drowning in the way she smiles at you, in the way that the setting sun is painting wonderful colors on her features and highlighting her mesmerizing eyes in a way that keeps taking your breath away.

You wonder if your heart will ever beat at a normal pace whenever she’s around.

It feels like a date. You know that it isn’t, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from fluttering or your cheeks from reddening whenever she’d focus those eyes on you. Whenever she lets your name roll off her tongue in a way that makes you question whether she meant for this to be as platonic as you’ve assumed.

You find out that the backpack she brought contains the best sandwiches you’ve ever had as well as a Bluetooth speaker where she plays for you her favorite songs, talks about her favorite albums, who her greatest inspirations are, all while asking you about yours, engaging you in the type of conversation that you can’t help but open up.

You don’t know what it is about Lauren but you tell her things you’d never even told Hailee and she’s been your best friend since second grade. She listens like your words are the air she needs to breathe, absorbing them with rapt attention and mulling them over in her own mind before telling you just what you needed to hear. She has the ability to always know what to say and you can’t even remember how you were living your life before Lauren.

She drives you back that night, bringing you back to your door safe and sound and as you both stand awkwardly at your door, she leans forward and takes you in a hug that says she doesn’t want to let go. You relish in it, bask in the warmth of her arms, and wonders whether the thundering sound in your chest is coming from yours or hers as you both stay in the safe embrace where you don’t have to confront your true feelings.

—

“So when are you going to, like, properly date?” Dinah’s voice breaks your concentration as you watch the puck slide through the table and go into your goal.

“Oh dammit, Cheech! Stop distracting me with your words,” you exclaim as you watch her taunt you with her winning dance, which really, isn’t much of a dance as it is her just sticking her tongue out at you while shaking her hips.

It’s almost midnight and you’re spending your time in the game room on the third floor of your Commons Building because Dinah thought this would be a good idea to spend the time while she waits to pick Normani up from the airport, whose flight lands at an ungodly two in the morning.

“Anyway,” she says as she feigns fixing her shirt while leaning her hands on the table, watching you with curious eyes. “So when are you and Lauser going to date for real?”

“Wh-what?” You squeak out as you try to be as convincing as possible when you let out your next words. “Why would we – why would we date? We’re friends!” You scoff out and you think you should’ve taken an acting class or two as an elective because Dinah is barely containing her laughter at your failed attempt to be nonchalant.

“Come on, Chanch. What’s taking you gays so long?”

“She doesn’t like me like that, okay?” You let out with more bite than you wanted.

“Oh please,” your friend dismisses your words easily. “I know Lauser. She looks at you differently.”

“Really? Do tell please,” you say with a kinked eyebrow as you cross your arms across your chest and match her stance across the table.

“I mean we know how she is,” Dinah says with a vague gesture in the air that you think is supposed to somehow refer to the many “friends” Lauren has over as her reputation would show. “But with you, it’s different. She doesn’t look at you like she wants to bang you.” She scrunches her nose and then shakes her head. “Well, actually, yes she does,” she corrects herself and you try to will the blush you can feel creeping up on your neck at her words. “But,” she says as she holds a finger out, as if you’d ever think about interrupting the one and only, Dinah Jane Hansen. “She also looks at you with, like, massive heart-eyes. Like she wants to get in your pants, but also make you breakfast in bed the next morning, you know?”

Okay, now you’re sure your cheeks are red because you can’t help but picture Lauren in nothing but an oversized shirt approaching your bed, the morning light bathing the crumpled sheets, with a tray of your favorite breakfast foods and giving you a soft smile that never fails to make your heart jump out from your chest. You’d probably forego the breakfast foods and insist on having her instead if that ever happened.

“You’re insane, Dinah,” you manage to say after you shake yourself out of your very inappropriate thoughts. “Lauren would never like me like that. You’ve seen her type and besides,” it’s your turn to hold up a finger when you see her about to interrupt you. “I mean it’s Lauren,” you scoff as if it should be obvious. “She doesn’t do relationships. She’d sleep with a pole if it had a skirt on it.”

And wow, you regret it as soon as the words fall out of your mouth. Dinah looks at you like you’ve just stepped on a kitten and shakes her head disapprovingly. You want to defend yourself, tell her that these are the things you tell yourself, the things you have to tell yourself as an attempt to stop yourself from spiraling down into the abyss of falling in love with Lauren Jauregui. You can’t risk your heart like this, is what you try to say to yourself. You pretend that it isn’t too late.

“You know what I mean,” you say in a less judgmental tone.

“No I don’t, Chanch,” Dinah tuts sadly. “I thought you knew Lauren better than.”

“Look, I just – ” you sigh because she’s right. Lauren has never given you any reason to not trust her and you should know better than to believe the rumors especially after getting to know her. You haven’t even seen her talk to a girl outside of your group of friends since meeting her. “I’m just protecting myself, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” you say dejectedly and Dinah comes over to your side of the table and puts an arm around you while looking at you like you’re missing something right in front your face.

“I get that, Chanch. I do,” she tells you softly. “I just don’t want you to miss out on something great because you’re scared.”

—

You haven’t seen or talked to Lauren in three point five days and you’re pretty sure she’s ignoring you. You’re not sure what you’ve done but you want to fix it before it gets out of hand because you don’t know how many more mornings you can go through without her smiling face and your favorite coffee in hand as she walks you to your first class of the day, waking up at an ungodly hour just so she can be with you even if her classes don’t start till midday.

Normani has an unreadable expression on her face when she lets you in the apartment that she shares with Lauren. She merely tells you that the green-eyed girl is in her room before retreating to her own room and you have to take a calming breath because she can be really intimidating when she wants to be.

You knock hesitantly on Lauren’s door and when you hear a faint Come in, you let yourself in, preparing to grovel and beg and do whatever it is to fix whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into.

You see Lauren packing up a suitcase and the duffel bag she uses when she has a game out of state and you hate that she’s leaving for a game and you didn’t even know because you hadn’t seen her in three point five days.

“Hey,” you say meekly as you stand by the door.

Lauren’s head snaps up from her packing at the sound of your voice and you watch her expression harden before she resumes her packing. It’s unnerving because you’ve never been on the receiving end of that expression before and now you know that you’ve truly fucked up on something.

“Are we – is everything alright?” you ask as you watch her barely pay any attention to you.

“Yup, just packing for my game this weekend.”

“Lauren, come on.”

“What, Camila,” she says and her voice is cold and her tone harsh and it slams against you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. “I have to catch the team bus, so I’m a little busy, can we do this some other time?”

“Do what? I’m not even sure what’s-”

“I mean don’t you have better places to be than be here right now?” She’s abandoned her bag in favor of turning towards you and giving you all her attention. “I mean I’m kind of in a rush. I have to pack, catch the bus, and you know,” she shrugs and lets out a self-deprecating laugh before letting out her next words. “Gotta fuck the next pole in a skirt that I see.”

The words feel like a stab in your heart and you watch briefly as sadness washes over her cloudy green eyes.

“Laur-”

“No, you know what, Camila,” she cuts you off and her voice is steely with just a hint of a crack beneath it. “I know what people say about me and that’s fine. Really. Because they don’t know who I am. I expect that kind of thing from people that don’t know me,” she keeps her gaze on you even as you watch her eyes fill with unshed tears. “I thought you knew me better than to think I slept with everyone and everything in sight without regard for anyone but myself.”

“Laur, I – I’m sorry, I was just – I panicked and I didn’t-” You know you’re not making sense. You want to say so many things and the words are getting jumbled on your tongue and your heart is pounding too loudly in your ears for you to hear your own thoughts and you wish you could tell her you only said those things to help yourself get over her. That you didn’t mean it, but you needed to convince yourself that the two of you could never happen.

“I went to the game room a few days ago because Dinah said you were there with her. I was going to surprise you and invite you to my tournament this weekend in Boston because I know you’ve wanted to go for a while and I know you’ve been studying hard for finals and I thought you deserved a break, you know?” Her voice cracks at the end of her sentence and you hear the same thing happening within your chest. “So imagine my surprise when I hear somebody I consider my best friend talk about me like that.”

“Lauren please, let me explain.” Your voice is desperate and you don’t even care at this point that you can feel hot tears streaming down your face.

She shakes her head and gathers her bags together, throwing on that leather jacket you love so much before carrying her things to the door while you follow her helplessly.

“And for the record,” she says as turns to you one last time. “Your friend Sarah was the one who came onto me. I told her I wasn’t looking for a relationship and she was the one that insisted it was just going to be sex. Then she had the nerve to spread rumors about me when I didn’t call the next day.”

With that, she clenches her jaw and looks away from you as if the mere sight of you is bringing her pain and leaves through the door, leaving you with your heart shattered in your chest.

A/N: end of flashback (for now)

***********

You breathe in the night air while you lean your forearms against the railing, enjoying the way the serenity descends onto you in the same way your comfort blanket did when you were a child seeking solace from the thunderstorm outside. You’re glad your room has its own balcony because it’s providing you the much-needed privacy and quiet for you to gather your thoughts.

You didn’t think today went too bad, considering you hadn’t seen Lauren in two years and you’re still very much in love with her even though she doesn’t know you anymore. You think you’re doing quite well. You hadn’t let out any ill-timed declarations of love and you hadn’t murdered your meddling friends, so you take it all as a victory.

You take this time to yourself to calm your heart, which hasn’t stopped beating erratically since seeing Lauren and you hope that you have the strength to make it through this week.

You’re about to go back inside when you hear the door slide behind you and you’re reminded that not only do you share a bathroom with Lauren, you share the balcony with her too.

“Hey, princess,” her voice rips right through you, taking you back to when you first met her and her words roll out of her mouth and run through the dip of your spine, coiling at the base of your stomach and making you feel like you’re back in time.

“Wh-what?” You barely manage to let your words out as you turn to face her and you have to tell yourself not to reach out and touch her because she looks as beautiful as ever under the moonlight. Her alabaster skin glows with a soft radiance and her hair is in its messy-but-still-somehow-looks-good natural waves and her eyes are as bright as ever. Nothing has changed and yet you have to remind yourself, that this is a different Lauren. This is a Lauren that doesn’t know she has your heart.

“Oh uh,” she brings a hand to the back of her neck like she’s embarrassed and brings it back down to gesture to the print on your shirt. You look down and you see a crown emblem on its front. Oh. “I just thought because – your um – your shirt,” she chuckles nervously. “Sorry, that probably was weird,” she scrunches her nose at herself and you barely resist the urge to smoothen the lines that form on her face at the action.

“Oh yeah no, it’s okay.” You try to ease her worries with a small smile and she takes it in gratitude.

She moves to stand next to you and leans her own arms against the railing, bright eyes fixed on the ocean waves glinting under the shine of the moon and you try not to get lost in everything that is Lauren.

“You know, you can ask me whatever you want,” she says as she turns her head slightly to face you, a small smile forming on her lips. “Or say whatever is on your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs before looking out into the ocean once more. “I don’t know, it’s just that – it seems like everyone is kind of tiptoeing around me? Like I’m glass that’s going to break or something,” she tries to hide the concern in her voice behind a small laugh. “I came back for the truth and I’m prepared to hear whatever. I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

Oh.

Your heart is thundering in your chest and you want to just blurt it out. Tell her who you really are – were – in her life before she forgot about you. There’s nothing more in this world you want than to remind her what you were supposed to be to one another.

But telling her isn’t going to bring her memory back. She’s not going to magically remember she was supposed to be in love with you. All it would bring back is her strained relationship with her mother and you don’t think you could stand in the way of their relationship twice in a lifetime.

So you take a breath and you try to steady your voice when you speak, hoping that she can’t hear the small tremor in your tone. “Well, you can trust me.” The words feel like razors coming up your throat as they fall from your lips, cutting any chances you might have had in getting Lauren back. “I won’t hold anything back from you and whatever it is you want to know about your past, I’ll tell you as best as I can.”

The way she focuses her eyes on you, like she’s trying to look into your soul, picking your words apart for the lie that they are, you almost want to back down and end this charade once and for all. But then she gives you a smile, one that you haven’t seen in a while, the kind she gives you when she wants to calm you down, ease your mind, and steady your heart – one that says she trusts you.

And you suddenly wish that it was you who forgot how breathtaking that smile was.

—

Your friends are massive dicks.

You’ve known this for a while and you should have known they were going to pull something like this out of their asses and put you in a situation where you’ll be at Lauren’s mercy.

Because Dinah and Normani’s wedding isn’t exactly traditional and they share the same group of friends, they essentially have the same entourage – which is basically just your group of friends divided into two groups so that Dinah has half of your friends on her “side” and the other half goes on Normani’s.

They’ve been planning this for months and so you know you were supposed to be paired up with Harry. He was the one that’s supposed to be rehearsing with you to walk down the aisle and do all that jazz because they’d known beforehand that his boyfriend, Louis, wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding. There was a scheduled conference or whatever in the same week or something.

So you’re a little confused when you walk into rehearsal and Louis comes barging right through the group of people mingling about, and promptly envelopes you in a tight hug while simultaneously complaining about his delayed flight, all while you’re wondering how and why he’s here at all.

“Oh yeah, Camila,” Harry pipes up from behind Louis with a smug-looking smirk. “We forgot to tell you but Louis can make it after all.” You don’t fucking say. “And so he’ll be my partner,” he says gleefully. Which is okay. You’re fine. You don’t actually have to be part of the entourage. You know you don’t mean any less to Dinah or Normani if you’re relegated to just a common guest. Less responsibility for you and more time to pine for Lauren.

Everyone already has partners. Zayn is with his girlfriend, Gigi. Ally and Liam are paired up. Niall and Hailee are (of course) partners (you’re still wondering when that is finally going to happen), and now, Harry and Louis.

But then, of course, your friends had actually already thought this out. In fact, you’re 98 percent sure this was the plan all along.

“Oh but you can still be a part of the entourage, Camila.”

“Yeah, we just need to find you a partner.”

“I wonder who it could be.”

You wonder if you’ve watched enough crime shows to get away with actual murder.

“Oh, Lauren!”

Yeah, now would be the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

You watch as she snaps her head up from her phone where she’d been standing to the side waiting for rehearsals to begin. She’s not part of the entourage because no one really knew if she would even be able to make it, or if she’d want to go to a wedding of people she knew before college but don’t quite remember spending time within the last four years before she lost her memory.

“You can be Camila’s partner!” You love your friends, you swear you do, but it’s in moments like this that you want to smack all of them across their stupid, smirking faces.

“Um well – uh,” you watch as Lauren gets flustered with all the attention on her, the wedding planner watching her like a hawk.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to add another pair. Your entourage is relatively small compared to the size of the rest of the wedding,” said wedding planner pipes up with her unwanted opinion.

“Well then it’s settled,” Harry claps his hand together like he’s come up with the brightest idea in the world. “It’s up to Lauren now. Do you mind being part of the entourage?” Up to Lauren?! Up to her?! What about you? What if you don’t want to be subjected to the kind of torture where the love of your life is so close to you, but you can’t do anything about it. It’s all a lie, you know you’d jump at the opportunity to be close to Lauren no matter how much it might hurt.

“Uh well,” her cheeks flush a darker shade of red and green eyes find your own, as if asking you if you were okay with it and you honestly want to laugh. You want to laugh at the thought that you might not want to be paired up with her because if it were up to you, you’d take Lauren and march her right up the altar and marry her right there and then, if it weren’t for the small problem that she doesn’t exactly remember you. It’s not as if you had been planning to do just that very thing the few weeks leading up to the incident. You try not to think about the ring still hidden in your apartment. “If Camila’s alright with it, I don’t mind.”

“Sure,” you shrug casually and you hope you didn’t sound as excited as you feel.

“Awesome!” Harry exclaims and if he claps his hands together one more time, you swear you’re actually going to go up to him and smack him in the head.

Your friends are massive dicks, but you actually love them.

—

A/N:

hi everyone! im back from my unannounced/unexpected hiatus (unlike 5h)

hope y’all are doing well

sorry if y’all were expecting a homh update. I prolly will try to finish this two-shot (maybe three-shot) before I work on the next ch for homh

as always, I’d love to hear what y’all think so far

feel free to leave a vote/comment/feedback if ya feel like it!

-madds (wattpad/ao3: jaureguicabello5eva)

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #humour #romance fluff #submission #things only you know

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