googley eye


Summary: Realization strikes you once you’re suddenly overwhelmed by your feelings for your roommate, blaming yourself for being so clueless all along to see what was really infront of you.

Word Count: 1,931.

A/N: Enjoy this Roommate!Bucky fic I decided to come up with. Surprisingly, I really like how it came out. Hope you enjoy! And as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Originally posted by buckynsebimagines

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anonymous asked:

describe how each high school year by semester went for you

9th grade: We don’t call it a play date anymore, it is hanging out, hanging by our toes like wet lipped fruit bats, like jungle gym monkey kids. Young and swollen. Blood, immature blood, pink blood, fresh meat blood pepto bismol up the wazoo, and spit under my bed. Code names aren’t for spies, they’re for 14 year old girls with googley eyes, not that we needed them. Kevin and Grace, Ellie and Joshua, Paloma and Matt which is weird because I’m hot for him, and they kinda look like siblings. Pink shorts, black tights, Jimmy Eat World, pizza bagels and lucky charms under a fresh white linen morning like detergent sealed crust between my eyelids, you tore them open. I mean, not yet. But soon. I discover neon sex scenes, Sky Ferreira, and Skins and this is where the final hopscotch box stops; at the end of the subway platform. This is where I’m supposed to jump. Monkey balls fall on our heads as we walk home, and autumn leaves crunch like drum line snare beats. All godless girls with snakes and cherry lollipops and 9 millimeters pointed at our clits, Bend it Like Beckham under your itchy wool blankets, Alice’s mom thinks I’m cool, and I stay for dinner and crack some risky jokes like a fox among wolves. (I think he looks at me when I look away). Me and Hana FaceTime I take screenshots of her dancing with her cat. The girls who play soft ball in short shorts, the girls who call them sluts, the boys who watch. We dance through rainbows in the sprinklers on the way to the Homecoming dance and pretend we don’t care we don’t have dates. We’re floating in the cytoplasm, floating on the cotton candy overdose cause our parents drop us off at the bowling alley but we are too loyal to sneak out the back. We pool our money every Friday after school for the spring break road trip we’re going on when Hana gets a car, and one of us has lost our virginity, and none of us are scared of the dark.

Miss Budd yelled at me for not standing for the pledge of allegiance, and I was 4 years old again. My English teacher held me back, and held my hand, and gave me a safety pin for my missing button, and told me it would be. Okay.

10th grade: We were on the news that year. Cristo’s curls on KTLA, solemn, and not the boy cross eyed and high with his pants around his ankles. Suddenly we’re all standing up straight, suddenly we’re being told we can’t wear leggings because somebody posted a video of Penelope having sex with Max on Facebook. Suddenly we’re underground in the girls locker room (red varsity knee socks, Dina drowning the spider nests with Victoria’s Secret rose perfume, humid with shame and lesbian suspicion) holding our arms in front of our naked breasts, single file like ants for the syphilis test. The boys who drew penises in fire and salt on the soccer field grass, like druid frat boys, but not the boys who put gorilla glue in the classroom locks, and not the boys who wrote their hit list in the red pen on the back of Mr. Chan’s syllabus and ended up in court, who called in a bomb threat, just to get the test pushed back. We all took turns getting our ghosts exorcized in the principals office. It was pompeii and pandemonium, and nobody was safe, not even us girls sleeping wrapped in the dust of library encyclopedias. You moved away from me like I was illiciting the restless black dreams on your grandmas shitty air mattress. The sheets are clean enough, but this attic is haunted, you keep waking up in the middle of the night to your body sinking like a pirate ship caught by the Kraken, the floor gnawing at your bones again so you just. Got up. And slept somewhere else. My English teacher held me back, and told me I was a good writer but don’t be so angry, and I cried right there, and she gave me a kleenex from her Shakespeare tissue holder and I blew this stupid pain head first out of my nose. I never told you about that. Maybe if I had you would’ve felt bad for me and stayed a little longer. But you hung out with those buckwild kids under the spot by the willow tree, and it was easy. it was just snuffing out an annoyance. A mosquito licking the ruby of your earrings that you shooed away. Our birthstones were both rubies, you know, we were twin cancers with balmy skin and busted appendixes, the aliens took you once and the only explanation was a scar on your spine, and I reckon I should’ve known they’d come back for you.

(You are gonna tell your kids about these cherry cola years of golden suburbia, and midnight blue debauchery snapping teenage knees, and furrow your brow forgetting the name of the girl you spent the first two calling your best friend.) You cheered at football games. You got drunk with them at night, and you were bursting and missing teeth like a watermelon smile, you rubbed up against each other like cats they touched you in all the right places and you didn’t text me anymore. You went to sleepovers and posted photos on Instagram, I wasn’t invited, I thought this bullshit was supposed to stop happening in elementary school. All the things we thought would never happen, lockdown drills, fire drills, earthquake drills and we still weren’t prepared. It was. Pandemonium. It was. Chemical fires in Mr. Dow’s science class. And me and my plans were just. so fucking boring standing next to your cherry blossom hurricane. You didn’t wait for me after class anymore and I just. Looked so stupid trying to catch up. Blood, mature blood, cows blood in the manure for the roses to eat. Black blood, like storm sky, I dish out this milkshake I pick the scab and I lick the blood away. Thomas comes out and dubs himself the gay cliche, we walk home together on the yellow brick road, and we pray a tornado will land the school library on our corpses so we can die with those sparkly shoes on. Those ruby shoes on. The Fates gagged me with a pack of jolly ranchers. I got straight A’s while Rome was falling. Nobody has ever made me feel so small.

11th grade: New school. The kids talk different here. Depression in California is like getting a cold in mid-July. So ironic it’s almost insulting. I’m pretty sure it was raining all year, but don’t count on it, I lived sub-terrestrialy with my mothers tulip bulbs. Today’s Wednesday? I thought it was Friday? I thought yesterday was Sunday? Depression in California is like running after a rabbit in the woods. It doesn’t matter how sunny it is, you will suddenly look up and it’s night, and the trees are not your friends, even when they are as skinny and shaky as you. You will get stuck in the swamp, leave your shoes behind, and not even remember why you were out here in the first place.

Headache. Stomach ache. Lots of those, those are easy to fake. Menstrual cramps, vomiting, gut wrenching, kinda vomiting. A personal favorite. I got to get my hands dirty for that one, I got to reach for the gag reflex like a remote control and press fast forward and feel my arc capsizing, until the static buzzed and I was pale like southern gothic tragedy, I’m not bulimic I just don’t wanna go to school. Depression in California is like an abandoned zoo. Everything echoing animal shrieks. They set them free but the cages were empty long before that. I make some friends, nice ones who laugh at my jokes, and I feel like I should get a sticker for it, but I do more nervous shaking than laughing.

Depression in California is like a badly maintenanced carnival. We’ve gone around the ferris wheel 8 times now and nobody seems to notice. The cotton candy polluting my blood, running slow and globby while the kids below spin, the kids drop, the kids could die, but they just giggle hand in hand with smiling clowns who pump them full of teeth rotting sweets, the winking lights are blurry this far away, and it feels like eons before we’ll get back to the bottom. I’m out of tokens. I think I’m just gonna jump.  

12th grade: Trump won. I think I might like girls. My dad jokes about his own death so I know what it means to be angry now, like femurs forged from the goddamn ring of Isildur. Is this what’s normal now? Fucking boys who are oil slick and easy living, and lose my socks in their dorm rooms? Meet them for diner food and xans on the weekend, and everything just temporary? Is that just what everybody wants now? My brother got a green card marriage, but I guess he loves her for real now. We watch the Walking Dead until the streetlights glaze over our eyes, he asks me if I have a boyfriend, no. If I’ve had any since I last saw him, no. If no is my favorite word, yes. Thing is I’ve never been anyone’s girl cause I’ve got a volcano where I should have a stomach. I know what it is to live on the red planet. But I ignore all that and go to concerts that bleed beer and swoon for boys who drink the blood. I guess we’re used to falling off of things so we do it on purpose now. It’s not over but I know how it’s gonna end. Cracked skull, and police lights. And to the break of dawn on Brandon’s roof, boxers stained with mayonnaise, and Deadpool is probably his favorite movie or some dumb white boy shit like that. I’m not gonna cry when I leave for college, I’m gonna cry at the car rental watching the sun bleed out on the trees. I’m gonna cry in the knothole of an oak tree, hiding from the freshman mixer party in the woods I knew I shouldn’t have come to once the social anxiety starts clawing up soaked in the gallon of strawberry Crush I downed to calm myself down. You know, in some other parallel universe, my parents never divorced and we dispute where the sugar pantry should be at inopportune times, and I don’t straight jacket myself with the echoplex sound of my mother screaming over my dead body just to not inhale the chlorox under the sink. I was so bloody, I just wanted to be clean.

I thought it was like the 80’s, the rusty exhaust pipe of Matt’s car turning the snow black while he’s wasting time daydreaming of my piston pumping sloppy hips, and rumored things that happen in the backseat, and kicking cans in no particular direction, and first love sticky and first love stabbed into your kidney and you never really recover. I thought it was sixteen candles, and say anything, but it’s getting bloodshot squirrelly smoking hash in the disabled bathroom stall. It’s a personality disorder grown up from the ground like a mushroom that is poison to the touch, and thrown away birthday presents, and valentines day balloons stuck in the trees. It’s dropping the last slice of college acceptance celebration cake on the floor for your dogs breakfast, and cartoon rain puddles for eyes talking about how scary it is to drive on the freeway. Karina and Maddie rough housing like pit bulls in fifth period cause we don’t do shit in that class and pretending that we are not all gonna be strangers in 6 weeks before we. Before we. Please don’t make me say it out loud.

My English teacher held me back, and told me to make up the quiz I missed, and that was the only time I will ever be happy that some strangers just stay that way. And Daddy, I will miss you when you leave me, and Daddy I will meet you in the next life you just gotta wait for me ok?

I am not the kind of girl people have crushes on. I am the kind of girl who can survive 18 stealing food from parties, couch surfing, living like a lightning bolt. There one minute, and gone the next.

The Boy Named Yoongi (Part 3)

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: 1,681 words

Summary: Valentine’s day is coming up and you had no interest in that but that was only until you realized you still liked your middle school crush; the boy who harshly rejected you.


Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

When you wake up the next morning Yoongi is still by your side. Somehow during the night his arm ended up around your waist. You stare into his face and when you see his face twitch awake, you pretend to be asleep. He jumps a little when he sees you and then quickly leaves the room.

You wait for about 15 minutes to go by before getting out of bed too. The warmth of where Yoongi was gone and it made you feel lonely. You go to the bathroom and wash up and walk straight to the kitchen where Yoongi was.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?”

“I’m making pancakes for breakfast. You like them right? You used to eat my mom’s pancakes all the time.” He flips a pancake.

“I’m surprised you remembered that.”

“Its not weird for a genius like me to remember simple stuff like that.”

You giggle a little as his confidence. He actually sounded proud that he remembered that. Then you realize something.

“Wait. I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”

“I can cook. I just don’t like cooking.”

“Oh… So I didn’t need to bring you dinner last night.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you need any help?” You change the subject to forget about what happened.

“I’m just about done. Can you just set the table?”

“Sure.” You grab some forks and knives and walk to the cupboard to get some cups. They were a just a little too tall for you to reach so you tiptoe. Your fingertips can just barely touch it.

“If you couldn’t reach it you should’ve just told me Y/N.” He comes just from behind and reaches up and easily grab two cups. You could feel his breath on your ear as his fingers brush past yours. “Here.” He hands them to you and goes back to cooking.

He walks to the dining table with two plates of hot pancakes and sets one in front of you along with a bottle of syrup.

“You liked it with syrup right?” He proudly recalls.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Both of you ate in silence which was pretty awkward because it’s been awhile since you actually had a normal conversation with him.

“Yoongi, you’ve grown a lot taller, I didn’t even notice.”

“I’m a man, of course I’m going to be taller than you.”

“I just didn’t notice how tall you were because it’s been so long since we spoke and stood next to each other.”

“I’m pretty sure it was you who stopped talking to me. I think in middle school.” He stops eating and looks at you.

“I had good reason to.” You don’t meet his eyes.


“Nothing.” You can’t believe he doesn’t remember that you confessed to him.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I have to do something. I can do the dishes when you finish.” You shove the last piece of the pancake into your mouth and put your plate and cup in the sink.

You go into the room and stare at nothing. You had nothing to do. You just needed to get away from his questioning. It was humiliating how he rejected you and even more so that he forgot.

You look around his room. It had so many things you didn’t know how to use. He had two computers and a large flat screen TV above it, and some musical things you didn’t know the name of. But you did know that it was his studio. He had a few toys of Kumamon. You recognize one particular old one; it was given to him by you.

“How many years has it been since you gave me that?”

You whip your head around. When did Yoongi come in?

“I’m not sure but it’s definitely old. Do you need something?”

“Oh yeah, I need to go out for a bit so I need to change.”

“Oh… Oh! Let me get out of your way then.” You hurry out but run into the corner of the table and double over in pain.

“Y/N! What happened? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He rushes to your side and gently holds you.

“I’m not okay. My hip is dying right now. I have not experienced this pain in so long.” You dramatically call out.

“Haha so funny. Now get out, I need to change. Unless you want to stay and watch.” His smirk makes the hair on the back of your neck stand.

You get up to leave but trip over your feet and almost slam into the door but Yoongi catches you.

“Were you always so clumsy? Maybe it’s better if you just stay in here, I don’t think you make it outside my room alive at this rate.” He places his hands on your shoulders and seat you at his desk. “Just don’t turn around while I change.”

“Why would I?” You blush and close your eyes even though if they were open you wouldn’t see anything anyway. You open your eyes just a little bit and stare at the computer and almost scream when you realize you could see his reflection from his computer monitor. His skin is so milky white, and smooth, you want to look away but you couldn’t.

“Are you looking at me through my computer screen?” He pulls a sweater over his head.

“What?! No! Why would I?” You close your eyes again, trying to play it off as if you really weren’t looking.

“I’m done so you can open your eyes now. I’ll be back in an hour or two. Are you going to be fine on your own?”

“Yeah. Have fun.”

“If you’re bored, you can listen to music.”

“Okay.” And with that he left.

You were looking around his room again when your phone begins to ring causing you to jump. It was your best friend, probably wants to hang out or something.

“Y/N? Let’s try out that burger place that just opened. My boyfriend went without me so now I have no one to go with.”

“Where should we meet?”

“Meet at the burger place. I’ll text you the address.”

You get dressed and head out. When you see your friend, she runs up to you and hugs you like she hasn’t seen you in months.

“Let’s go in now! I just saw Yoongi go in so we get to feed our stomachs with delicious burgers and feed our eyes with Yoongi.” She pulls you in very suddenly but you were quite excited yourself.

“Let’s sit over here, Yoongi shouldn’t be able to see us.” Her eyes widen and she rubs them, “Is he on a blind date? Why? If he’s taken then how are you going to make him love you!”

You pinch her arm, “Stop! He and I don’t have anything going on. He doesn’t even remember that I confessed…” You explain what happened and why you’re staying at his house. You might have left out details like you peeking at him while he changed.

“Oh my god Y/N! This is the best for you to make him like you.”

“No it’s not. I don’t like him anymore.”

“Oh look! The girls are here.”

Three pretty girls sit across from Yoongi and his two friends. They’re all smiley and you can tell one of them already has her eyes set on Yoongi. You didn’t like Yoongi but it did make you upset thinking about him liking someone. That was probably your petty side talking, saying something like ‘if I can’t have Yoongi then you can’t’ - just some nonsense.

“Oh that’s our buzzer, I’ll get the food.” The buzzer snapped you back to attention while your friend excitedly gets the burgers.

“So your name is Yoongi? I’m Soo Mi, nice to meet you.” You can hear her getting ready to flirt with him.

You stare at her as if it would make her stop being interested in Yoongi.

“Y/N stop staring so openly.” Your friend was already eating her fries. When did she even get back? “Heh Y/N, you’re jealous aren’t you? It’s okay, it’s natural to not want your crush to be taken by some girl.” She tosses a fry at you and laughs.

“I’m not jealous!” you take the fry and throw it back at her.

“Whatever you sayyyy” she says it in a sing-song way that you can’t be mad at. “Anyway, Valentine’s day is coming up. I wonder if my boyfriend will get me that teddy bear that I said was cute.” She slurps her smoothie and looks out the window like she was in a music video.

You peek at Yoongi’s table and see that the girl, Soo Mi, was staring at Yoongi with googley eyes. You admit it did make you feel annoyed and maybe, just maybe a little jealous. It also made you feel a little mad at Yoongi for going to a blind date. It’s not like you owned him or had anything going on but it made you upset.

“I have to go now.” Yoongi suddenly gets up and Soo Mi looks like an abandoned puppy.

“Oh oppa. Let’s go together! I also have to run some errands.” She gets up and runs over to Yoongi’s side and casually loops her arm through his.

“Um. Y/N. Your fry, why are you doing that to it?” Your friend looks at you with a worried face.

You look down to see that you had completely smashed up the fry in your hand.

“Nothing.” You quickly say before turning your attention back to Yoongi.

“Hey! Y/N. I didn’t tell you about my plans yet.” Your friend snaps her fingers to get your attention.

“Sshhh.” You hold up a finger to shush her while you look at Yoongi leaves with Soo Mi.

“Are you done eating? Let’s go!” You grab your tray and throw out your trash.

“What? Go where? I didn’t finish my smoothie.” Nana throws out her trash and follows you. “Really Y/N? Not jealous?”

“Fine. I am jealous. I can’t help it if I like him.”

Sorry it took me so long to update this! I’ve been so busy lately so thank you for being patient

anonymous asked:

Well, at least we know now why Even joined Kosegruppa :')

Ahhhhhhh I K N O W 


Okay but do you think when Sana and Vilde invited him in ep 1 Sana saw him blatantly ignore them to make googley eyes at Isak and Sana was all 👀 I seee you. And so that is why she made Isak’s punishment for hiding the weed, to go to Kosegruppa….

Or after she blackmailed him, she noticed Even making the googley eyes because he would have totally been in Sana’s sight after everything that happened with balloon squad, like she would have kept her eye on him. So maybe she noticed and then gave him the “Hey I think you should come to kosegruppa, don’t look at me like that trust me. I said trust mee. Just come as a favour for me okay? Takk” - Just like I wrote in my fic “The Reason” a million years ago. 

Not saying I am psychich guys but….the fanfiction don’t lie lol. 

AHHHH I am freaking out tho, seriously what do you guys think?? 

If Sana isn’t the maid of honour at this wedding I am gonna be screaming

anonymous asked:

Hey Google I feel like I haven't annoyed in awhile so here it goes... * jumps on googles back * GOOGI, GOGGLE, GOOGS, GOO GOO, GOO BEAR, G-DAWG, MR.G-IPLIER, AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE GOOGLEY EYES HOW ARE YOU?

…If I knew who you were I’d kill you.

You Ain't Slick Pt 4

Alexander x Reader
Word Count: 1863
A/N: really creative title, I know (I forgot I said I was going to post this today I was in a hurry)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You hated that he had this type of effect on you; you hadn’t for a moment stopped thinking about him, but didn’t have it in you to act on it. So, you did the only thing you thought reasonable to do—you asked Angelica.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed, hitting you gently in the arm, repeatedly, in her excitement, “I knew he likes you! He makes it so obvious, he’s got googley eyes on whenever you walk into the room,” she laughed, practically vibrating in her chair. “And, I know it’s not really what you want to hear, Y/N,” she said, suddenly lowering her voice, “But you DO owe me ten dollars.”

You rolled your eyes; “We can go to the diner later,” you deadpanned, “Now tell me what to do!”

“What do you mean,” Angelica laughed, “He didn’t ask you out on a date?” She asked, furrowing her brows.

You shook your head; “I may have been avoiding him,” you replied, nearly ashamed.

Angelica groaned; “Y/N,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “What am I going to do with you?”

You shrugged, kicking a stone the two of you passed by,

“Go talk to him! He’s a cute guy; I mean, definitely the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, but cute nonetheless… And you like him, too, don’t you?” She asked, eyeing you expectantly.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know,” you answered earnestly, “I’ve never really thought about it before; he’s always just been my friend. Before he kissed me, I was going to tell him NOT to kiss me, but he just cut me off…”

Angie sighed; “So you don’t think you like him?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

You shrugged; “I don’t know,” you sighed, “When he kissed me I DEFINITELY liked him… And I haven’t stopped thinking about him… But I can’t tell if that’s because I’ve been trying so hard to avoid him, or because I have feelings for him,” you explained, before looking up at her, “I think I’m just confused.”

“Understandably,” Angelica agreed as she pulled out her phone. “It’s Hercules,” she sighed, “Said they’re all heading to the diner… Wanna go with them?”

You had a moment of an inner-war with yourself, before Angelica stopped it.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” she said, “We just have to rip off the band-aid.”

You nodded your head, begrudgingly, “You’re right,” you sighed, “Let’s go with them—I owe you a meal, anyway.”

“Good,” Angelica grinned, “Because I already told them we’re on the way.”


At the diner, Alex, Lafayette, Hercules, John, and Emma were sitting in your usual booth; they all had milkshakes and were sharing a few plates of fries. Across from Alex was your favourite flavour of milkshake, and beside Emma was Angelica’s.

You grinned awkwardly, taking what you assumed to be was your seat. “You got me a milkshake?” You asked to nobody in particular, as you took a sip.

“I said I’d buy you another, didn’t I?” Alexander asked, trying to hold eye contact with you.

You looked down at your drink, awkwardly; “I didn’t think you’d remember,” you admitted shyly. You hated that he was making you feel like this. You were kind of awkward in general; you didn’t need a stupid boy coming in and making it any worse.

“A man of my word,” he replied, pushing his plate of fries towards you; “Hungry?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

You just shook your head.

“You don’t have to worry though, Alexander,” Angelica grinned teasingly, “We were just at mine, we had some snacks there.”

Emma laughed in response, nudging Alexander with her shoulder, “Our little worry wart,” she grinned, stealing one of his fries for herself.

She had been feeling more like herself, recently. She still went into little fits of sadness once in a while, but on the whole, she seemed to be getting happier. I guess in hindsight, she was able to see how toxic her relationship was with George, and began appreciating the split. You couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

Alexander rolled his eyes while he took a resentful sip of his strawberry milkshake.

For the next hour, the seven of you just sat, talking. You and Alexander made awkward eye contact, which you always broke, not really ready to confront the situation. You wouldn’t put it past him to tackle you with it sometime soon, though.

Luckily, though, the boys had a movie planned for tonight that was beginning in fifteen minutes, so they took off. As soon as he left the diner, you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders; it immediately returned though, once you realized that it was only temporary, and that you would have to face him sooner or later.

Right when the boys left, Emma scooted from her seat to Alexanders, across from you; “Guys,” she said hurriedly, “I have some big news.”

Both you and Angelica grinned, giving Emma your full attention. “What is it?” You asked; if would be nice to have something distract you from Alexander.

“It’s Alexander.”

You seen Angelica’s head swing to look at you out of the corner of your eye, but you refused to acknowledge her, and kept your eyes trained on Emma. “What about him?” You asked, trying to keep your voice at the same level of enthusiasm.

She sighed, her eyes wide, like a child’s; “I think I’m starting to really like him.”

Angelica coughed uncomfortably; “Really?” She asked, sounding somewhat disgusted, “He’s kind of a player,” she said and you instantly knew what she was trying to do.

“Angie,” you said warningly, finally working up the courage to look at her, “He’s our friend.”

She widened her eyes at you, her own warning. “I was just saying,” she said more gently this time, turning her attention back to Emma. “We all know him…”

“You don’t think he’d be good for me?” She asked, nearly pitifully.

Angelica shook her head softly; “It’s just… You and George just ended things… You don’t think it’s too fast?”

Emma shrugged her shoulders; “He’s just so different than George… He’s so sweet, and understanding, and smart, and… I don’t know, I think he’s really cute,” she explained, making your stomach sink the tiniest bit. “I thought you’d be proud of me for moving on.”

“And I am!” Angelica said quickly, “It’s just… Moving on to Alexander?”

Emma sighed; “If you don’t think it’s a good idea—“

“I think it’s a good idea,” you cut it, “It’s great that you’re moving on. Two weeks ago, leaving your room was a huge deal, and you’ve come so far already. This is perfect, Emma.”

Em smiled at you, appreciatively; “Thanks, Y/N,” she beamed. “That means a lot to me.”

Angelica bit her lip, but didn’t say anything more.


“What were you thinking?!” Angelica exclaimed as you flopped down on your bed, ready for her spiel, and getting comfortable for it. “Now I wholeheartedly agree with Alex—you’re nuts. If you like him, go get him! Why would you hand him over to Emma on a silver platter? You’re crazy, Y/N, crazy in all sorts of ways.”

“Angie,” you sighed, “I don’t even know if I like him—and it’s not like we were anything, anyway, we just kissed a little bit. It’s not a big deal!”

Angelica rolled her eyes; “It is too a big deal!” She argued, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “And so what if you don’t know if you like him or not! That means you should give yourself time to figure it out, not totally dispose of him! Y/N, why would you… I have never been this frustrated before.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s hyperbolic, Angie, and you know it. I’m okay! I’m fine! I’ll just… Find someone else. I couldn’t be with Alex, anyway…”

“And why’s that?” She questioned you, placing her hand on her hip.

You sighed; “He’s so… You know… Open… And emotional… And I’m so not. It wouldn’t work!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Angelica sighed, “You’re crazy emotional—just not when it comes to guys. And even if you won’t tell me why, I know that’s true. I don’t know who hurt you, or how they did it, but Y/N, you’re letting that interfere with all of your potential relationships! Alex is a great guy, who’s so into you! And you just… Let him fly on by, all because you’re too afraid to be vulnerable with a boy?”

You rolled your eyes, but she just kept on going; “And don’t tell me I’m wrong, because I can see it with my own eyes, and I know it’s true,” she said knowingly, raising her eyebrows, challenging you to disagree with her.

“You don’t think I know that?” You groaned, “Of course I do! I’ve been dealing with it since forever—I just need practice, and maybe I just need to be with somebody… Less emotional… You know, somebody who’s kind of an asshole, to help me get out of my dating funk.”

Angelica rolled her eyes; “Y/N, that is, no offence, the stupidest idea I have ever heard of.”

“It’s true,” she exclaimed, “You’re just trying to get out of feeling things, like you always do! You haven’t been ‘dealing with this since forever,’ you’ve been AVOIDING dealing with it since forever. And I hate watching it, you’re like a self destructing robot; you just go around blowing yourself up, over and over again!” She blurted out, “And I’m tired of seeing you give yourself wholly to other people, never leaving anything for yourself, and refusing anybody giving you anything back! I am not having it anymore! You have to tell Emma what’s going on between you and Alexander. And you and Alex have to work this out. And for once in your life, dammit, just do what’s going to make you happy, Y/N. Seriously. I’m sick and tired of this, you deserve to be just as happy as the rest of us,” she asserted, looking you dead in the eye.

“Angie,” you sighed, biting your bottom lip gently, “I’m just afraid,” you said, urging yourself not to cry and break down, for what would the millionth time over this exact subject. “And you said it yourself—you can’t make Emma feel something she just doesn’t feel, and you can’t make me feel something I don’t feel. I can’t be with Alexander, because maybe I do like him a little bit; but admitting that is only going to make me vulnerable, and give him all of the ammo he needs to really hurt me—“

“You think he would hurt you?” She asked, “Y/N, if you think that he would do anything that could ever, remotely, hurt you, you’re wrong. You’ve seen the way he cares about you, you’ve seen how much he likes you.”

“Yeah, well, George started off really liking Emma, too, didn’t he?” You challenged her, biting your lip harder, “And I don’t want to go through that, especially not with Alexander,” you argued. “And you’re just going to have to accept that, Angelica.”

Make the First Move

“Where do you want to go tonight?” Your best friend Rose asked you as she checked herself out in the mirror.

“I don’t care as long as there’s alcohol involved.” You say, throwing some bracelets on your wrist and doing a little dance in the mirror. School was stressful like always and your home life was more stressful than usual lately, so you were looking forward to a night out on the town.

“Well… I heard Isaiah’s gonna be at the Garrison.” She says, making googley eyes at you.

“So?” You ask, ignoring the immediate butterflies taking flight in your stomach.

“So…do you want to go there or not?” She said.

“If that’s where you want to go.” You said, biting your lip in hopes that she’d say yes. And how could she call herself your best friend if she didn’t realize that you and Isaiah were caught in this kind of limbo where you two flirted constantly, and it was obvious that you liked each other, but that was just it; it never went any farther. She wasn’t the only one who took notice either, practically everyone in Birmingham knew it.

“Yes, it’s where I want to go Y/N, so we’re going.” She gave it, rolling her eyes as she hurried you out of the house.

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