#or will they fall in love with the neon lights and the nonstop action and decide they were meant to be a city dweller?

[guiltswept]

WE'RE  MAKING  OUT  INSIDE  CRASHED  CARS  /  WE'RE  SLEEPING  THROUGH  ALL  OUR  MEMORIES  /  I  USED  TO  WASTE  MY  TIME  DREAMING  OF  BEING  ALIVE  /  (  NOW  I  ONLY  WASTE  IT  DREAMING  OF  YOU  )  —  MEET  BABE  MORI.

...content warnings for... parental & familial death, mentions of a car accident, night terrors, stalking, harassment, implied gun violence, and drugs.

profile.

full name — paloma mori.

nickname(s) — babe! that chick over there. friend :)

place of birth — blue harbor, illinois.

date of birth & age — august 13th, 1997. twenty7.

gender / pronouns — demi woman, she / they.

sexuality — bisexual.

occupation — stripper at tba. amateur taxidermist. scene queen. professional raver. PLUR princess.

astrology — leo sun, leo moon, leo rising.

residence — her family's apartment above their beer & noodle shop in cardinal hill. the apartment is a mix of fratboyisms ( liquor bottles as decor, beer boxes as wallpaper, led strip lights half - falling off the walls ) and babe's... everything ( random crystals and band posters, cheetah print, loose plastic beads in every corner because none of them vacuum enough... so many taxidermy projects ).

interests — stick and poke tattoos; giving and receiving. edm. "scenecore". bright, neon colors. never washing her eyeliner off. pop punk. whiny vocals. nostalgic cartoons. fun and silly taxidermy. cooking for her friends; cooking as a release. dancing, in all forms. candy. glittery stickers. cheetah print. sex and love, and sex without love. skateboarding. reacting impulsively. demonias. fishnets. graffiti and vandalism. adrenaline rushes and cheap thrills. doing what she's told not to do. living her best life even if it's doomed. beer. her grandfather's recipes. mdma. loud, crunchy, static.

aversions — admitting that she has a god complex. taking responsibility for her actions. the way she can't stop when she cries. being dismissed. not being adored and loved. being alone for too long; long periods of silence. people who take themselves too seriously. being shamed. taking her medication. sleeping; her night terrors. thunderstorms, though she says she loves them. muted colors. art museums. bras. when she's not the one to end the relationship. being confronted with the truth, or reality.

quirks — falls in love and/or lust too easily, and will spend weeks fantasizing and obsessing over one person at a time. never lasts long in relationships except for one that's constantly on the frays. has no volume control in public and speaks without thinking. can be insensitive at times. loves convincing others to get matching tattoos with her. kicks in her sleep ( when it occurs ). always says she can handle her liquor but is always the first one drunk. is minorly allergic to alcohol but it will not stop her.

most played — IN MY MOUTH by black dresses.

notable features — straight black bangs and even straighter hair that's always tangled in the wind. a collection of glitter that never leaves her face. a few lovingly placed beauty marks and a full bottom lip that's always bitten raw.

general disposition — electric, energetic; a nonstop force until she's simply not.

character study — ilana wexler ( broad city ) & juliet starling ( lollipop chainsaw ).

background.

parental death / car accident; she's raised by her maternal grandfather and uncle, smack dab between her two brothers - their parents died in a car crash when her younger brother was just a baby, babe still too young to remember them much, or the accident that took place.

they live in a small apartment atop their grandfather's restaurant - a small noodle & beer shop that welds just enough profit for them to get by.

has been called babe her entire life - sometimes her grandfather says its because after her older brother had watched the movie of the same name, he thought she looked so pink and pig - like.

night terrors; is diagnosed with night terrors at a very young age - her cries and screams wake their household nightly, tiny limbs thrashing about like undergoing an exorcism. every night, on repeat - again and again. sleep paralysis becomes common - strange figures always lurking in her doorway, fingers curling over her doorframe - insomnia after that, because babe can no longer stand to sleep.

as a kid there's only so many explanations to her diagnosis - none feel right, a girl always in denial - settles on the belief that maybe she's a medium. that maybe what she sees are just spirits reaching out for her - wanting her help. she's so young, her family just thinks she'll grow out of the belief - but she never does. it's better than acknowledging the truth - of the deaths she's tethered to.

grows up the weird girl - the girl who talks to nothing, the girl who says she's really seen bloody mary in the mirror - the girl who's always bruised from taking a fall from her skateboard, over and over again - the girl who never learns. the girl who set the robotics club room on fire, and was banned from competitions from there on. always plenty smart - but terrible at utilizing it.

death; her grandfather dies shortly after babe's high school graduation - and college seems like a distant memory. she'd been serious about it, once - but now she needs to help out where she can. her uncle's taking over the restaurant with her oldest brother in tow - her youngest already picking up jobs when he should be studying. babe hates to see them struggle - hates how palpable the grief is in the air, how thick it is - how she can barely breathe.

she gets a job at the strip club as a dancer - she's young and charismatic, muscle built from years of roughhousing - it reels in plenty money, enough to help out her household and have some leftover. she picks up taxidermy classes, because college still seems so far away - babe knows how to move forward, but not how to pick up the pieces and continue where she's left off - dozens of projects left half - finished, plenty of relationships dropped without warning. the only constants are her best friend since diapers, practically, and the boyfriend she breaks up with, but never truly leaves. she's known him for so long - it feels impossible to ever really part.

stalking / harassment / gun violence; years later - babe's a known face at the club with a plethora of regulars, customers who adore not just her body, but her personality, who respect her - who pay her plenty. a new customer begins to get a bit too - affectionate towards babe. too close, too interested. the club's good about discomfort - and he's escorted off premises after he tries to follow her into the dressing rooms. it doesn't end after that - an obsession that carries outside of the club, that follows her - he follows her, to and 'fro - the police useless, because he hasn't touched her - and when her oldest brother finds out, he decides to take matters into his own hands. the man doesn't die - but he comes close to it, and when the police come knocking this time 'round - it's babe's uncle who steps up; who confesses to the crime. a crime he hasn't committed - but will protect his family from.

it's been a year since then; her oldest brother's taken over their family's restaurant - and the guilt swallows babe daily. she's only semi - recently gone back to work, much to the protest of her brothers; her oldest brother still upset about her decision, and still not talking to her.

facts & temperaments.

has unironically called herself an empath and in her defense she sort of is. feels emotions so so deeply that they hurt. a big crier, can't help it. tends to let them get the best of her - an irrational thinker who always jumps to conclusions, whether it's about you loving or hating her.

a little performative, dramatic - feels like she needs to be, like if she's not a caricature of sunshine then she's just the girl with a should - be - dead stalker and an incarcerated uncle. the girl with the dead animals, and the profuse swearing of mediumship.

a big - time partier, a known raver; self - proclaimed scene queen. always wearing rave attire, even in the cold - loves big, bold colors, the more neon the better, her arms consistently covered in kandi that she gives out like candy to her most favorite people of the week, sometimes the hour.

drugs; big big big on psychedelics and like. party drugs. loves poppers. will never admit that she has a problem - thinks she can always just reel it in.

has probably said rawr :3 in the past 24 hours.

loud and bold and talkative - isn't afraid to point out things that others may not; doesn't get the hint when to shut up. a bit of a blabbermouth, but she can't help it.

needs to be validated often that she's still liked and loved and adored, it's a bit of a problem. tends to latch onto others and form the occasional obsessive attachment. it's no big deal. sometimes it lasts for days, sometimes months. she finds most people interesting, and sometimes the most random things draw her in. thinks there's more beneath every person and she wants to know Every Layer.

a little hypersexual - a coping mechanism to deal with. Everything. but also just loves love! will also get incredibly jealous at times, but it's almost as a joke? but only babe finds it funny, and only after everyone's like babe wtf? then she's like omg jk haha im not that possessive :3 (kind of is)

once again, a big crier - at minor inconveniences, at sad movies, at misunderstandings; even when angry, it's just more tears. purposefully wears mascara that runs for the aesthetic. has probably never taken her eyeliner off.

big on adrenaline - seeking and cheap thrills. loves the idea of overcoming danger. believes in ghosts and cryptids and probably wants to fuck mothman, experiences medium revelations like several times a day.

has several tattoos that are just the @'s of people she's fucked whether it's their instagram or twitch or what. she thinks it's funny. and it's like, girl? kind of matches how her shitty little honda civic that's always falling apart is covered in bumper stickers on the outside and like. actual stickers on the inside. like she's just vomited lisa frank.

downs several monsters or various other energy drinks a day. aforementioned car's floor is littered with the crushed cans and general. gross shit ngl. we love her though.<3

[jamesbvck]

change your mind | two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Modern AU, High School!Bucky) Summary: Senior Year: the last year to be a somebody or a nobody. A chance to fall in love, ace that final exam and make memories. After a terrible first impression, Bucky makes it his mission to fix the mistake he made with the new girl. Will they get their chance? Warnings: swearing, brief mention of drugs, implied sex (mentioned), ghosts? A/N: Thank you for all the nice comments on the first chapter!! Just an FYI these chapters go by months so they are longer! Feedback is encouraged! :D

CYM MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Happy Hogan’s Diner looked like it was taken out of a 50s movie. It was retro with a jukebox in the corner playing tunes, chairs and booths were clothed in faux red leather  and the floor was checkered. It had been a long time hang out spot for the group, you had learned. A place to get away for awhile and forget about school stress. You accompanied them more often than not. Saturday nights seemed to be the prime night. Someone was always inviting you to join along, usually it was Peggy or Steve but Sam and Clint were always enthusiastic when you joined.

You helped Sam push two long tables together and you opted to sit beside him. It was the first Saturday in October and rain poured outside. So what was better than burgers and milkshakes to cheer everyone up? Peggy, Steve, Natasha, and Bucky sat on the opposite side with Clint plopping down next to you. You couldn’t believe after a few weeks you had friends, genuine people that wanted to hang out with you. Truthfully if it wasn’t for Peggy you weren’t sure where’d you be. Probably sitting in your room doing homework and watching an old movie.

“What milkshake should I get?” You asked Sam, leaning over to look at his menu.

“Oreo, definitely Oreo,” he replied. “Or Peanut Butter.”

You hummed. There were a variety of options but Oreo did sound the most appealing. The table shared three large fries and onion rings, everyone getting their own burger. You hated to admit it but Bucky was right; the burgers were the best. You couldn’t tell him that though, he’d probably gloat and say ‘I told you so’ and would never let it go.

To your surprise he was quiet tonight. Normally at the lunch table him and Sam were the loudest ones. You snuck a peek at him. He was relaxed, arm over the back of Natasha’s chair. Some people greeted the table to chat about the football season and praise the boys for their work towards another trophy. Bucky remained cool, almost too cool for your liking. As if he knew he was la crème de la crème. After that first home game, Bucky had made you a ‘special promise’: Next touchdown will be for you, doll.

If you had rolled your eyes any harder they would have fallen out of your head.

You breathed in, glancing around at the neon signs. You tried not to eavesdrop but you were dying to know what Steve was whispering to Peggy. She was giggling and beaming. Natasha looked naeustiated and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Sam stretched out, smoothly resting his arm along the back of your chair. You tipped your head.

“Can I help you with something?”

Sam was cheeky. “Long limbs.”

“Right.”

He chuckled, turning to look at you. “How was your first month of school? I kinda wish we had a class together. Maybe next semester.”

Sam was genuine, you had learned that rather quickly. When he asked how are you, he meant it. He wanted to hear stories about your four other schools and how it worked out. Turns out Sam moved to Valhalla when he was ten and one of his best friends, Riley, was attending Ria High. He said he had a hard time entering high school without Riley but it seemed to turn out pretty alright in the end.

“I survived, so I guess it was fine,” you shrugged. “Can’t complain too much.”

“Exactly. You met me, so there is no complaining allowed.”

You liked Sam. Sam was good people, especially when he could get you to laugh.

“Just wait until she actually knows you, then she’ll complain nonstop,” Bucky pushed back his chair causing it to scrape the floor.

“You just hate the fact that I am likable and the cutest one of the group, man.”

Bucky flipped Sam off, getting up with Clint. The two exited through the side door. You watched them through the window standing under the awning to shield themselves from the rain. Bucky placed a cigarette between his lips, chatting with the few others out there. Clint mimicked his actions but you highly doubted it was nicotine due to his constant bloodshot eyes.

“Do you smoke?” You asked Sam. You had never seen him smoke, but there were such things as occasional smokers.

He shook his head, “Not my thing. Just whiskey and beer for me. Guess everyone has their bad habits and that’s theirs.”

You agreed, sipping on your milkshake. Your eyes found their way back to the window. Using the toe of his combat boot, Bucky squished the end of the cigarette and yanked open the door. Him and Clint returned to the table just as the food arrived. Clint’s new stronger smell was lingering to his jacket. He leaned over and grabbed a fist full of fries. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Clint could eat anything in sight.

The conversation flowed easily. Sam stole a few sips of your milkshakes when he thought you weren’t looking, although you scolded him after. A fellow student approached, Connie Anderson. You had seen her around school and sometimes you heard the boys speak of her. Connie was beautiful with soft brown hair and big brown eyes, her nose was turned up and cheeks rosy. She floated gracefully to the end of the table saying a brief hello to the group before her attention was solely on Bucky.

He was reclined, head leaned back to look up at her. Connie’s hand glided around the leather of his letterman sleeve and stopped at his hand, lifting it up to lace their fingers. You were puzzled. Were Bucky and Connie a thing? You hadn’t recalled but when did you really pay a lot of attention to Bucky? His hand rested on her hip, finger locking around the belt loop to tug her closer. She effortlessly obliged, going as far to use his lap as a seat.

You forced yourself to drag your gaze away. Staring for too long would be creepy and you weren’t in the mood for some snippy comment from Bucky. You felt a little awkward, shifting in your chair. There was an unfamiliar pang in the pit of your stomach that made you slightly unsettled. Nausea? Maybe. You scooted back, getting up and rounding the table. You caught Bucky’s head snap to watch you walk to the bathroom. Peggy was hot on your trail.

“What’s wrong?” Peggy caught the swinging door before it closed.

“Nothing, Peg,” you replied. “Just, you know, trying to go to the bathroom…”

Peggy blinked, almost unsure. “Right. Sorry. You got up quick from the table and I was on high alert.”

“Peggy,” you pushed out a laugh. “Go back. Steve will get worried about you.”

She had no counter remark. Peggy’s cheeks flushed, ducking her head before scurrying out of the bathroom. Your own smile faded as the door closed, breathing in deeply. The pang was subsiding. You rested against the subway tiled wall and mindlessly scrolled through your phone until an appropriate amount of time passed. Whatever that feeling was, it didn’t make you feel the greatest.

A few booths became occupied as you wandered back to the table. Bucky and Connie were gone from their spots. You eased back down to sit beside Sam, eyes lingering on the empty chair that was once Bucky’s. Everyone seemed to be finished with their meal having pulled out some cash.

“I didn’t get a bill.” Your brows furrowed looking at the others with their own checks.

“You sure?” Sam lifted up some napkins and looked around to make sure he hadn’t grabbed yours.

“I think Bucky paid for you. Saw him go up to the register and pay.” Peggy said.

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“Hey, don’t question it. You just got free food!” Clint patted your arm with a goofy smile.

No one seemed to have anything else to say, shrugging it off and getting up from their seats. It didn’t sit right with you. What was Bucky playing at? You didn’t need your meal paid for when you were capable of doing it yourself. You huffed quietly, following the others. The rain let up to a mist, pavement slick and street lights glowing orange. You got into Peggy’s car, closing the door and sighing. Peggy and Steve lingered in front of the doors, Steve talking and rubbing the back of his next. Peggy had her hands behind her back, nervously twiddling with her fingers.

Ridiculous, you thought. They were both absolutely ridiculous.

Peggy climbed into the chair a few moments later, starting the engine and smoothing down her hair. You were silent but gave her a knowing grin to which she laughed and reversed out of the spot.

“Is Bucky dating Connie?”

Peggy glanced over at a red light. “I won’t call it dating. Everyone knows Connie has had a crush on Bucky since the tenth grade but it’s not… well…”

You could piece the rest together. Bucky didn’t feel the same except for when it was convenient and he was down for a fuck. You weren’t sure why it surprised you. If anything it validated his lack of morale. Then again, it wasn’t of your concern as long as it was consensual. You continued to look out the window as Peggy drove back to your neighbourhood. She parked in her driveway and you jogged across the street, waving goodnight.

Evenings were quiet while your mother worked at the hospital on rotating shifts. You locked the door and left the porch light on for her, going upstairs. You settled into bed, taking the book assigned to you from your English Lit teacher to read. Your eyes scanned the words but your mind found itself drifting elsewhere.

Bucky failed to show up to first period on Monday. The desk beside you was vacant, no trace of him to be found. It was the first day it was quiet. He wasn’t there to poke at you with his pen or whisper something unimportant during Pierce’s long winded lecture. Too quiet, you thought. A strange new quiet that somehow made you feel uncomfortable. You actually wrote thorough notes, taking the time to highlight and underline emphasized words. You did, however, wonder what Bucky would say about Pierce’s continuously receding hairline.

“He’s going to turn into Skeletor.”

Your eyes rolled over to look at Bucky. He appeared quite content with his cartoon reference. He had his pen between his teeth, slouched posture with his left arm dangling off the desk.

“Does that make you He-Man?” You whispered back.

Bucky removed the pen, quite surprised you had humoured him in replying. He had a dumb grin on his face and immediately you regretted speaking.

“Only if you’re Teela.”

You scoffed, “Fat chance.”

The bell rang and tore you from you short memory. You packed up and headed to the second floor where you were greeted with Steve’s absent desk, too. You frowned, now today really was going to drag.

It came to your attention at lunch that when the boys had an away game that they got the day “off” due to travel. The bus didn’t leave until the afternoon but sometimes they’d have full morning practices. Or, as Natasha imputed, most of them would just fuck off and sleep like Clint until it was time to go. From your spot at the lunch table outside you could see the student parking lot. Bucky’s Jeep was in its usual spot so he had to be around, maybe in the weight room with Steve, you thought. The bus would be rolling out soon. The table was mute with Peggy doing homework and Natasha on her phone. You missed the chatter.

Even at dinner with your mother you were quiet. Your fork mulled over the green beans, elbow propped on the table with your palm pressed to your cheek. There were no new things to tell her about and overall you felt slightly gloomy. Perhaps it was the changing weather, that always seemed to affect people's mood. Scientific fact. Tomorrow would be better.

You couldn’t decipher if it was a hickey or a bruise from a football collision on Bucky’s collarbone. The collar of his black crew neck shirt was slightly stretched out and dipping downward to reveal the purple-ish blemish. It wasn’t massive, but it was noticeable. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to ask him what happened, you cared a miniscule amount and if it was from Connie’s mouth then, well… She was certainly marking her territory. There was that foreign pang again.

Bucky shifted, noticing your not so secretive examination and adjusted his shirt. Your cheeks burned and you mentally scolded yourself for letting him catch your longing stare. Surprisingly he didn’t say a word, nothing snarky or witty to get you to groan. Instead he packed up as the bell sounded, shoving his books into his backpack. You scooped up your belongings and took long strides to the door, making a B-line back to your locker. In three quick twists your lock was open and you breathed out, replacing your history textbook to the top shelf. You couldn’t even recall what the last twenty minutes of class was about. Hopefully nothing dire.

You exchanged your green notebook for your red English one and grabbed the novel from your bag.

“I know you.”

You turned seeing Tony Stark casually leaning against the lockers. His arms were folded with a smirk on his lips, appraising your face.

“Correction: I think I know you.” Tony amended. “Jog my memory for me?”

You half laughed, a brow risen. “We sort of met. I’m friends with Peggy and Nat. Just moved here a month ago. Honorary new girl status. Sorry I crashed your party.”

“I wished I would have invited you myself,” he said. “Would have personally given you a grand tour of Casa Stark. There’s always next time.”

You grew intrigued. Tony must have had the resident party house. “Oh? When’s next time?”

“What’s next time?”

Bucky’s voice came from behind and you tensed for a moment. Tony looked past you, eye narrowed and crossed arms tightened. You could already feel hostility between the two.

“Run along, Barnes. Don’t you have footballs to catch?”

Bucky snorted, glancing down at you. “Is he bothering you?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Tony was already snapping back. “That’s rich coming from the dick who dumped his beer on her to get her into bed. Can’t expect that to work on every girl with a pretty face, Barnes.”

Your eyes darted between the two men, appalled with the accusations. Tony did know you.Your mind buzzed, slamming your locker door closed. You wanted nowhere near this conversation and your next class was going to start in two minutes.

“Hey—“ Bucky jogged around to your front, halting your brisk pace. “He’s lying. You know it was an accident, I apologized. Still trying to.”

“Bucky. Just leave me alone. I don’t care.” You cut around him. He continued to follow.

“Stark’s an ass, he’ll say anything to better himself and get a girl under him. I don’t do that shit. You don’t know him.”

“Then what is it that you’re doing? Interrupting a conversation I’m having? Stalking me down the hallway? I don’t need you to be looking out for me, I don’t need you monitoring who I talk to and I don’t need you to buy my meal. I’m a big girl. I can handle shit, too. You don’t know me.”

Bucky’s mouth formed a firm line. He shut up, but you knew he had something else to say. He opened his notebook and retrieved some loose papers and handed them to you. “I guess I don’t know that these are your study notes that you rewrite every other day. The pink highlighter means exam worthy and yellow is quick notes.You dropped them when you bolted out of class. I was coming to give them to you. Sorry for trying to be a decent guy.”

You looked at the papers in your face, grabbing them from his fingers. They were crinkled now but he was right; you’d just rewrite them another day. Bucky pivoted when the bell rang again, marching down the hallway and disappearing into the cluster of students. You sighed and folded the papers, tucking them into your notebook and heading for the stairs. Another pang bounced in your stomach, but this time you knew it was guilt.

Lunch. You dreaded the thought.

You had leftovers from the night before: pasta salad and some banana bread. You plopped yourself on the end of the two picnic tables beside Clint. Bucky sat at the far end of the other side; shoulders tight and head resting against his hand and occupied his other hand with his phone. Clint didn’t sit long, getting up for his lunch break smoke. Bucky declined but handed Clint his black lighter, threatening him if he didn’t get it back he’d kick his ass.

“You okay, Buck?” You heard Steve ask.

“Tired.” He mumbled.

You sighed, setting your fork down and closed your eyes. You did feel the need to apologize. Peggy sat across with her tray of cafeteria food, friendly smile. “Rough morning? Pierce draining your soul?”

“Something like that.”

Peggy placed her brownie in between the two of you and divided it in half with her plastic knife to share. You gave a small smile, breaking off a piece and popped the chocolatey treat into your mouth.

“Bucky! I need ten dollars.”

Bucky’s head rose from his phone as you glanced over seeing a younger girl walk up to his side of the picnic table. She wore ripped jeans and a slouchy sweater and her wavy brunette hair was brushing her shoulders.

“What happen to the twenty dad gave you yesterday?”

The girl shrugged, folding her arms. “Come on. I’ll pay you back.”

Siblings.

You had heard Bucky did have siblings, three actually. He was the oldest, only boy and the rest were girls. You watched their encounter, surveying their body language to one another. Bucky was annoyed as his little sister was nagging him for money.

“Steve, tell Bucky I’ll pay him back.” She pouted.

Steve chuckled. “I can’t help ya there, Becca.”

Becca sighed, looking back at her brother who still wasn’t budging to get his wallet.

“She’s his little sister, right?” You whispered to Peggy.

She nodded. “Becca’s a sophomore. Her and Sam’s sister Sarah are really good friends. And you know Peter Parker, the photographer for yearbook? He has the biggest crush on Becca. It’s adorable.”

You smiled. Peter was a sweet kid. You had chatted a few times but it was nothing serious. He always had a camera in his hand and a smile on his face.

Becca sat down on the bench, huffing. Natasha had an amused smirk as she munched on a small bag of plain chips. “How do you deal with him? He can’t even give his own little sister ten dollars!” Becca was dramatic with big hand gestures and exasperation.

Peggy laughed softly as Nat spoke. “We tend to ignore him more often than not.”

Bucky grumbled, throwing a balled up napkin at her from across the way. Becca shook her head, glancing over at you with newfound curiosity. “Hey, you’re the new girl right? Bucky talks about you. He is, right, you are pretty. Usually he dates girls that--”

Becca was yanked away by the older Barnes, ten dollars slapped into her hand. She had a satisfied grin plastered on her face. Pure triumph. Bucky scolded her silently, telling her to get lost.

“Goodbye friends.” She waved, successfully skipping off back to her little group of friends.

You sat in confusion. You weren’t sure why you were surprised Bucky talked about you. Everyone was bound to talk about the new girl in school to their families. Besides football and classes, you were probably the most interesting topic. Bucky appeared frustrated. His fingers dragged through his hair as he shoved his tray aside and got up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Sam spoke but Bucky took off down the path to the east wing of the building.

“Bad News Barnes going to take his emotions out against punching bag?” Clint took Bucky’s seat. “Becca get under his skin that bad today?”

“He’s fine.” Steve got up, though. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Guess Barnes isn’t getting his lighter back.” Clint quipped.

You watched Steve head down the same path, slipping into the school before the doors closed. You turned back to your barely touched food. Hunger didn’t exist right now. You felt bad for snapping at him and now his little sister dampened his mood more.

“I’ll see you in yearbook.” You murmured to Peggy and excused yourself from the table. Peggy frowned but let you go.

The rest of the day was slow, dragging on for what seemed like a century. Yearbook felt the same but at least it distracted you enough from feeling terrible. The halloween fair was quickly approaching and planning was underway for the event. It sounded exciting. The fair was set up in one of the farm fields of a booster parent. There was going to be a corn maze, hayride, haunted house with games and fun. Apparently it was always so extravagant. Yearbook didn’t have to run it but there was going to be a page dedicated to it through Peter’s photography skills.

Peggy offered you a drive home but you politely declined, opting to walk to clear your mind. Truthfully you were moseying around until football practice was over. You could see the team heading back into the locker room so you had time to sit around and think of something to say to Bucky. You hovered by the side door, gripping the straps of your backpack. Sam and Steve emerged, walking towards the gate to venture home. Clint trailed behind. Bucky was one of the last ones to exit, slow pace as he scrolled through his phone and headed towards the student parking lot. You breathed in and forced your feet to move.

“Hey,” you called. Bucky glanced up from his phone, arching a brow. You approached him and his car. “I um, I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

“Today,” you replied. “I was kind of a bitch this morning so I wanted to apologize for that.”

Bucky shrugged. He was somber and cool. “Don’t worry about it.”

You nodded. At least your apology was out there whether he cared or not for it. Your hands slipped into the back pockets of your jeans. Silence fell over the two of you for several moments accompanied with awkward half stares and shifting.

“I gotta get home for dinner,” you mumbled. “See you in class.”

You turned on your heel, wishing you could simply teleport home from this encounter.

“I’m not like that. What Tony said. I promise.” Bucky stated. “I guess you don’t gotta believe me but…”

You stopped and looked at your shoes. Admittedly, you weren’t too sure what to believe. Both Tony and Bucky had thrown each other under the bus to make themselves look better. You twisted back to look at Bucky. He had his keys in his hand, eyes darted away as if he was nervous and wanted to jump into his car and speed away.

“Okay.” You nodded to him. It was acknowledgment.

His blue eyes shyly found their way to you, nodding too. “Okay.” He echoed.

Another set of stares, this time less awkward and more acceptance. Bucky unlocked his car and climbed into the front seat. You quickly turned and went on your own way.

At least the dust had settled for today.

A clump of sweaters lay on the floor beside your closet as you searched for the warmest one. A brisk wind was sweeping through Valhalla and you knew that being outside all night was going to get to your bones. You tugged a burgundy woolly sweater off its hanger, pulling it over your head and looking at yourself in the floor length mirror. This would do, you thought. It accompanied your black jeans nicely and you were going to chuck on a coat over top. You grabbed your Adidas and tied them to your feet just as a horn beeped outside.

“Mom! I’m going!” You called, jogging down the stairs. Your mother emerged from the cinnamon scent-filled kitchen with a wide grin and treats in her hand.

“One for you and Peggy.” She said, handing you some cinnamon rolls. “I’ll leave some here for you, and the rest I’m going to bring for the girls at work later.”

You smiled, shrugging on your coat and took the autumnal treat. “Thanks, mom. Have a good night at work.”

She opened the door for you, waving to Peggy who happily waved in return. You slid into the passenger's seat, handing Peggy the roll.

“You mother is a baking genius.” Peggy gushed, taking a bite before driving off.

You laughed and clicked your seatbelt. “No Nat?”

“She’s with Clint and Steve. They’re going to meet us there.”

You munched and looked out the window. The sun was low in the sky; orange and red swirls that matched the changing tree leaves. Peggy took backroads to the country side of the town and there were a line of cars parked on the road leading up to the farm for the Halloween Fair. Peggy pulled into a dirt lot, parking the car. You got out with her, tightening your coat around yourself as the breeze swirled around you.

There was a two dollar donation fee at the front gate and once paid, you got a Casper stamp on your hand and a sticker. It was a little silly but you liked the sticker. You trailed behind Peggy taking in the extravagant decorations. You felt like you were in a Halloweentown movie with the orange and black scheme going as far as the eye could see. There were light up pumpkins, scarecrows, and people dressed up as monsters. Hay was stacked like mountains and there were small food stands scattered around. Bobbing for apples, face painting, s’mores pit. It was truly incredible.

“Pegs!”

Peggy gripped onto your arm and hauled you towards Steve and the others. Clint already had caramel corn in his hand, munching away contently.

“Couldn’t wait?” You laughed, stealing a few pieces.

“No way, this shit is good.” Clint grinned.

“The stragglers have arrived.” Nat popped her gum with her arms folded over her chest. You followed her eyeline to Bucky and Sam. In tow was Becca and Sarah, splitting off to go find their own friends.

Bucky had on a dark grey hoodie under his lettermans jacket. His hands were shoved into the front pockets of his dark denim jeans, feet cladded in his well worn boots. He stood next to Steve, taking one hand and combed through his hair with his fingers. The wind was bound to be his nemesis for his too good perfect hair. It was annoying that he looked like a male model for a autumn line preppy campaign.

“Ready for some thrills?” Sam swung his arm over your shoulders.

You winced. “Might have forgotten to mention I’m not so good with pop outs.”

Sam gave a toothy grin. “You’re in luck, sugar. You’ve got me to protect you from any harm that comes your way.”

“A true hero.” You laughed, patting Sam’s chest.

You caught the tail end of Bucky turning away and rolling his eyes. Your teeth bit down on your tongue, starting to walk when Sam did. His arm never let up not that you really mind. Sam’s body shielded you from the cold and he was a warm person.

Peggy and Steve lead the pack. You watched as their arms bumped and hands brushed. Peggy pulled him over to one of the vendors that had apple cider and he paid for the both of them. The forever ongoing chronicles of two lovebirds too shy to make a move. It was sweet, something you thought of every so often. The thought of being longed after and those fuzzy feelings. The last crush you truly had was a few years ago back in Illinois. Freshman year, really nothing special but he was cute. You got a kiss out of it right before leaving for Indiana.

Twisting in Sam’s hold, you peered behind you. Natasha and Bucky were lagging behind in a discussion. All you could make out was Nat calling him stupid and Bucky shrugged her off, head shaking and hands deep into his jacket pockets. Something about him read agitated. Your brows furrowed but you turned forward with the gigantic barn coming into view.

The old red barn had been transformed into a haunted house. Already your skin was crawling, stomach in knots. Thankfully there was a line to wait in and gain some form of confidence. You reminded yourself that there were people under masks and everything was fake. Yet… you still had the heebie-jeebies.

“They can’t touch you, ya know. If they do, sock ‘em in the jaw.” Clint nudged. You gave him a small smile and nodded.

The line proceeded to move, small groups entering in at a time. Your plan was to stick to being in the middle that way you had people around you. Luckily you did have Sam to protect you, like he said, and upon entering you tightly looped your arm through his going into complete darkness.

Lights flickered with menacing music and shrieking audio hitting your eardrums. Your eyes darted from each side of the small pathway; a masked monster popping out at your left and a Jason Voorhees swinging from the right. Your heart raced at the frights, death grip on Sam’s arm. He, too, was jumpy. Peggy screeched with Steve holding her close and from behind Clint swore loudly.

This was a poorly thought out decision. Your own damn decision.

Your eyes squeezed shut then reopened them as you passed an open casket with a mangled body. The group turned around a corner, coming to a sudden halt. You walked into the back of Steve and searched around the pitch black room for something but nothing came into vision. Within a quick second, strobes of light were flashing illuminating the room.  An inhumane voice cackled and goosebumps shot up your spine. You leaped back as ghouls and the undead popped out. You covered yours eyes for a moment, whipping around and grabbed the air to find Sam again. A demon emerged from the darkness, stunning you backwards and a scream jumped out of your throat.

A hand gripped your arm. You latched onto the familiar leather sleeve and held on for dear life. It felt like your heart was going to explode in your chest. Your head was dizzy with gorge and horror.

“You’re okay.”

Your eyes slowly opened at the voice in your ear. It wasn’t Sam, nor Clint. It was Bucky. In that moment you didn’t care who it was you just wanted to get your ass out of the damn stupid barn. You moved when Bucky did as he found an exit. You cut between some black curtains and squeezed out through a half open door to the outside. Letting go, you stumbled before sitting down on a hay stack; head in hands and feet digging into the dirt.

“Are they going to be mad at me?”

“Why the fuck would they be mad at you?” Bucky sat down beside you. “You didn’t have to go in.”

“I know,” you mumbled. “Thought I was brave enough. Stupid really, to be scared of people dressed up.”

Bucky shrugged. “Fear of the unknown.”

You lifted your head and breathed out a sigh. You could hear screams and laughter. At least it was entertaining some people. You, on the other hand, were glad to be outside.

“Come on,” Bucky stood. “I think I saw mini donuts and hot chocolate.”

You looked up at him, brows furrowed but you rose to your feet. There was no way you could pass up mini donuts.

Cinnamon and powdered sugar donuts filled the white paper bags. You nibbled on one as Bucky got two hot chocolates and carried them over to the small round wooden table you sat at. He took the seat across and placed the paper cups on the table. Mini marshmallows floated in the steamy drink. You sipped as he dug his hand into the bag.

“When we were seven, Steve and I watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre and I had nightmares for three months. Slept with my light on, too.”

You half smiled, “That’s awful.”

“Yeah. It was the edited version too because it was on TV so most of the gory shit was cut but still. Freaked me out.” Bucky laughed at him, taking another donut. “So I don’t really care for haunted house stuff either.”

“Then why did you go in?”

His shoulders shrugged. “Changed my mind.” “What made you change your mind?” “You went in and I thought I was brave enough.” He echoed your words.

You stared at him for a few moments, although Bucky’s blue eyes danced around to everything but you. There was that shy appearance again that you had only seen once before.

“What the hell is this?!”

Clint’s voice boomed causing your heads to snap. The others wandered over each with their own amused expressions. Clint stood in front of the table, arms securely folded over his chest; impatient and foot tapping.

“Uhh,” Bucky blinked. “We’re sitting…?”

“You guys got mini donuts without me? Me! Barnes, you know I love mini donuts and you went ahead and replaced me?” Clint was melodramatic, arms beginning to wave around frantically.

You couldn’t contain your laughter as it was far too entertaining.

“Barton, relax.” Bucky shook his head. “They’re just donuts, you can go get some more.”

“Just donuts? Nat, you hear this guy?” Clint turned to Natasha, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb back at Bucky. “He said they’re just donuts. Un-fucking-believable.”

“Tragic, really.” Natasha drawled.

You reached forward, grasping Clint’s arm to turn him back. “Clint, how high are you?” You asked, offering him the paper bag.

“Not enough,” he beamed and gladly took the bag, shoving a powdered donut into his mouth. “At least someone has manners around here.” He muffled.

“Hey uh, Peggy and I are going to go to the corn maze.” Steve had a nervous quiver in his tone, pointing towards the corn maze sign. No one really said anything, simple nods as they ventured away.

“Five bucks says Cap makes his move.” Sam bet when they were out of earshot.

“Five bucks says he pussy’s out like he always does.” Nat countered.

Sam turned to look at her, “You challenging me, Romanoff?”

“What’s there to challenge when I’m already right?”

You smile to yourself, holding onto your hot chocolate that was now more lukewarm. The marshmallows had melted and it tasted more like water chocolate. Still, it was decent. You glanced over at the corn maze as Steve and Peggy disappeared inside. You hoped for the best but Steve (nor Peggy) seemed to have the best track record in trying. Looking back, Bucky had finished his drink and got up to throw away the garbage.

Natasha’s confidence prevailed and sneakily Sam slipped her a five dollar bill. She pocketed it with a wick smirk, patting his shoulder.

“You couldn’t have asked her out?” Sam hissed to Steve from behind you.

“Were you betting on me again?” Steve whispered back.

“Yeah, remind me to never do that again.”

The walk back to the parking lot seemed farther than when you originally arrived. You had lapped the fair a few times and perhaps you should have worn better shoes. Your nose was cold and you shoulders hurt from bracing yourself from the wind. Despite the haunted house, it had turned out to be a relatively fun evening. Bucky’s arm brushed against yours when he caught up to you.

“Think you’ll have nightmares tonight?”

“Don’t know. Maybe I’ll sleep with the light on.” You said.

He smiled at you, “Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Bucky! Unlock the car, it’s freezing!” Becca yelled from the trunk of her brother’s car. She had her arms wrapped around herself and Sarah Wilson dancing around to keep warm. “Hi new girl!”

You waved, half smiling. Bucky dug out his keys from his pocket and unlocked the doors. The girls sighed in relief and climbed into the car. “She’s knows your name. Becca’s just annoying.”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged. “Guess I’ll see you Monday.”

“8:30, bright and early.” Bucky quipped.

You spun away, catching yourself softly laughing as you made your way to Peggy’s car. She was already in the front see ready to go. She had a mischievous look on her face, gripping the wheel as you settled in.

“You and Bucky seemed rather buddy-buddy tonight.” Peggy commented.

“Can’t be rude when someone buys me donuts.” Your tone was dulled, downplaying it a little. Yeah, you and Bucky were on the same page tonight and truthfully it was nice to simply be and talk. Maybe you were turning a new leaf about the guy.

Peggy hummed, not convinced but didn’t press. She started the car and drove home. It was mainly quiet. You were lost in replaying the evening and Peggy had her own distractions.

“I think I love him.” Peggy’s voice was just above a whisper, nearly hard to hear over the radio. “Steve, I mean.”

Your head rest back against the seat. “He loves you too.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

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[thecutofmylove]

When You're High

Sad Alex Turner for my anon who requested

It was a warm Friday night. The sun had just begun to set over the tops of the buildings in the west, painting a pink and orange tinge across the sky as a sort of backdrop for the city. The top of the city was lifeless but down below, the concrete jungle was thrumming with life. The store windows were illuminated with neon lights and signs. The corner store with a small flickering ‘open sign’ caught your attention first before the array of color coming from a bar below. Several signs littered the windows, advertising music, alcohol, and darts inside. The other shops along with the corner store and the pub, like the tattoo parlor, the small tourist attraction, and the auto repair were casting a messy rainbow of colors onto the sidewalk while the street lamps rained a muddy brown onto the busy asphalt. People came and went beneath these lights, entering shops and clubs as the time crawled by while others climbed into taxi cabs in rout to apartment buildings and the motel six around the corner. There seemed to be no pattern to the way they all moved; not in masses and not alone. Each moving dot below had it’s own destination.

A clock displayed a dull red glow from the other side of your room. The empty apartment was partially illuminated from the light trickling in beneath the front door and you could barely hear what sounded like the murmurs of arguing from the room next door. It was an odd time for the neighbors to begin their scuffles since it was barely eleven o'clock. Most of the building’s inhabitants were awake, more than likely, and would surely give any loud occupants a piece of their minds.

You couldn’t make out what they seemed to be arguing about but you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing. It was uncanny how similar they sounded to you and Alex when he used to come home from a night of drunken escapades or when he used to call your phone nonstop at the earliest hours of the morning. They weren’t fond memories but you couldn’t prevent your mind from rolling over the usual events, or rather, what used to be the usual events.

You knew before his drinking had gotten bad that Alex was on a downward spiral. It started with weekends out, seemingly harmless until he would stumble through the door long after the sun’s gone down and trudge up the stairs to wake you from sleep. It was the same argument and the outcome each time; you would leave your shared bedroom and stomp downstairs to the bathroom where you would cry because even though his words may have been faulty, the pain was real. You would fall asleep after what felt like hours and you would clean yourself in the mirror the next morning. Alex would wake with little to no memory of what happened, he would apologize with roses or chocolates or whatever seemed fit, and you would go about the week acting as if nothing had happened.

After a couple months the drinking had escalated to every night. He would disappear for countless hours without a trace, still returning in the early morning hours, still stomping up the stairs, and still screaming but his argument intensified into wild accusations of you cheating.

Over the first few months you’d had plenty of time to swallow your pride, and so you would roll over and shut your eyes tightly, keeping a steady breath until Alex would finally give up and stumble out of the room. For those months it was him sleeping on the couch and cleaning himself up in the morning. He never stopped apologizing, but enough time had passed and his apologies began to mean very little until eventually they meant nothing at all. They became dead roses, melted chocolate, and breathy slurs.

You kept telling yourself you could salvage something and that your relationship was still manageable, but after the drinking came the drugs and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. His friends hadn’t noticed or hadn’t bothered to bring it to Alex’s attention, but he was becoming a shell of his former self. The nightly bar trips turned into a few beers and a rail of coke which Alex never lied about. He was truthful when you accused him of using drugs, he would just decline to state which ones.

It was during those drug filled months that you had stopped sleeping in your bedroom. You’d begun leaving after dinner and only returning in the morning when Alex was sober. He neglected to ask you where you’d run off to, because surely he’d noticed coming home to an empty bed, much less an empty house and you neglected to talk about it. And so, your interactions became few and far between. His touch was cold, his kisses felt hollow, the sex was meaningless, and he’d stopped telling you he loved you. Occasionally he would take you out during the day, usually to a diner and rarely would he ever take you anywhere else. It was because of this growing oddity that you began to doubt your relationship, and ultimately after you considered the options you decided it was never going to be okay. Alex was falling apart and he was dragging you down with him. It was inevitable, you had to leave and when you did Alex wasn’t there.

You had packed only your clothes into a small suitcase, leaving the rest of your belongings behind because you couldn’t bear to have the emotional attachment to who Alex used to be weighing your thoughts down. You took what money you’d managed to save and you moved into an apartment on the other side of town; no forwarding address, no goodbye letter, no attachments.

After you paid the first month in full you tried to rekindle your friendships but Alex had permanently severed ties and burned far too many bridges for you to count. Nobody wanted to speak to you and nobody was there to console you. You grew lonely in every sense of the word.

Sometimes, on nights similar to tonight when you were watching the people on the streets below, you thought you’d seen him walking. Each time you would feel a cold shiver down your spine and an intense stinging behind your eyes, but tonight was quiet. The people you watched showed no familiarity and showed no interest in the other bodies moving along.

You could hear your phone buzzing for the fourth time in a short span of time but you hadn’t found a reason to leave your seat on the windowsill. You ignored the message tone and continued watching. At least, you had tried. Even simple actions such as watching strangers on the sidewalk below reminded you of him. Despite your efforts to erase him from your life entirely, Alex continued to find his way back in both directly and indirectly.

It was a week ago when you saw him last. You were walking home from your favorite cafe and he had come from the smoke shop a few buildings down. Just as you walked in front, Alex had exited with his face buried in his hands and his eyes concentrating on the flame that licked at the end of his cigarette. He was maybe three feet in front of you, standing casually after not seeing him at all for what felt like years but had really only been three months. You’d thrown yourself into a state of panic and you remembered turning sharply on your heals and ducking in front of a man carrying a briefcase long enough to drape your scarf over your head. Fortunately you had made a clean getaway, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what may have happened if Alex hadn’t been so preoccupied. Would he have spoke? Would he have apologized?

Another pattern of frantic vibrating sounded from atop your nightstand. You tore your eyes away from the street and looked over to the bright light coming from the screen of your cell phone. You looked to the clock next, but the numbers appeared fuzzy. You wiped at your eyes with the heels of your hands and it was then that you realized you’d been crying. You felt stupid for having cried without remembering, but you weren’t going to think about it. You couldn’t afford to.

You inhaled deeply though your nose and finished drying your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. You couldn’t allow yourself to be upset by him anymore, you didn’t deserve that. So you wiped the tears from your hands on to your jeans and hastily pushed yourself from the windowsill to see who had been trying so hard to reach you.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the number you’d been trying so hard to forget for months. Alex was trying desperately to reach you.

-You up?

-Where are you?

-I wanna see you

-Why no answer?

-Text me so I know you’re ok

There were seventeen messages total but you couldn’t bring yourself to read any more. You had been working so hard these past few months to put everything behind you and to try and forget the year your relationship went sour, but here was Alex worming his way back into your life. It didn’t make sense. Why would he wait and why didn’t he chase you months ago?

You felt the burning behind your eyes growing and the threat of spilling tears became imminent as more messages rang through. Your phone vibrated four more times in your hand before you began to fill in the blanks. You didn’t need to read those messages to figure it out; Alex was drinking.

From the messages you did read, he didn’t seem like the same person you left and you wanted so badly to hold on to that sliver of hope. You wanted to call him and tell him that you’re safe and that you’ve been living in an apartment of your own. You wanted to tell him that you saw him a week ago, and that he looked good. You didn’t want to believe he was still using because you so desperately wanted the old Alex back; the gentleman you met at a local concert before he began the decent into despair, but you couldn’t. Somewhere in the back of your mind that little voice that told you to leave months ago was resurfacing. It was screaming for you to keep running-

More ringing and another message.

-I’m sorry

As the last message popped into your screen your eyes happened to catch the previous two unintentionally;

-Can we talk?

-Please?

A part of you, nearly all of you wanted to say yes; the same part of you that held on to hope that entire year because​ you couldn’t stop wishing for Alex to get help. You never stopped missing him, but it wasn’t the same person. He would never be the same Alex you fell in love with and no matter how badly you wanted, things would never be as they were because he was now the Alex who made you fall out of love and move out of your own house. He was the Alex that woke you up for an entire year screaming at you and accusing you of cheating with a different man each time. Alex may have been the man that once tied your stomach in knots and made your entire body tingle, but he was now the man that caused tears to spill from your eyes and a pit to form in your same stomach.

Your phone vibrated again, but this time you willed yourself not to look. So you turned it upside down and placed it on top of your nightstand, and you crawled into bed beneath the cold sheets, trying to generate enough warmth to get you through another night alone.