#my brain is kinda floundering right now with life so apologies if these thoughts are like...half formed

[gramoturtle]

Minamimoto is another character associated with both Lapin Angelique (you trade Lapin Angelique's 'Goth Bondage Coat', itself made from a Vampire Dress, to get Pi-Face's Coat, which has hilarious implications) and Cony × Cony (being the only character who has a Cony × Cony affinity thread, Black Lily). More Joshua × Sho parallels?

Hello anon! I'm assuming this is in reference to me saying I had a cool idea forming but couldn't complete it from this reblog about rabbits getting lonely really easily and how Joshua can be associated with them?

My idea was something really general and tied to OG theories but that thought has already been swept away like a dust bunny. But that's ok, I like what this new piece of info is providing me.

if this is about something else, uh, well, we're here now on this train of thought. But these thoughts are still feeling scattered but I'll try to add onto this! Or just throw ideas out there for others to play with, including my future self.

One piece of official art I really liked for parallels is their positioning in the 15th TWEWY & 1st NEO Anniversary art (Twitter). I didn't think much of it other than it was Neat cause I love these two. Why not place Those That Know Things and that have a Higher Agenda in similar poses? They're just watching the kids.

Perhaps Joshua and Minamimoto have found their buddies in NEO. Say Coco for Minamimoto and Haz for Joshua. They're two people that they talk to in a more familiar and friendly(?) manner compared to others. Sadly they're short interactions. Maybe it's the beginning of their buddy bonding.

As a note about vampire things, Joshua does get a Halloween vampire outfit from some TWEWY Anime merch.

And also Black Lilly's info from the wiki: This refined gothic coat with a lily-esque silhouette is themed after "the curse of love." The belts represent the shackles of a heart bound by unrequited yearning.

Maybe Minamimoto will discover a loving buddy soon.

But! (Warning: This is my post NEO AU brain kicking up.) If it's bunnies finding other bunnies, I dunno if Coco and Hazuki are bunnies themselves so...That would totally mean that Joshua and Minamimoto will become Best Bunny Buddies!

Ahem. I'll make note of this for my post NEO AU where they become, uh, "friends". Bunny Buds. Or something. An attempt will be made.

[ddarker-dreams]

Hello, rotting again too many thoughts, too little of a brain. SR is chillin with the one of the boys and its golden hour (when the sun hits just right and makes you look <33) and sun is hitting her just right making her look all pretty. And she's just talking about how a tomato is a fruit or not, and she turns to look at them, and her eyes staring at them with the sun hitting her so prettily is just so intense. That suddenly, they are unable to answer her,; just stuttering, or unable to find the the will to form words at all(seeing flustered Giorno or Bruno who always is so suave now trying to speak but their toungue feels so useless, unable to form words, and now simply opening and closing their mouths like a fish, trying to save their pride) as SR's eyes slowly go softer from her previous excitement into more of a mellow confusion, asking them if something is wrong, even putting their hand on their head to see if they are sick. And most of the boys have never had this experience before, seeing someone so pretty that they can't even speak properly (we've all had those moments irl, ik I have) and they 're all red in the face and even the ears are red. (even better if they're not dating and the boys just flounder about, Narancia genuinely thinking it's a stand attack fighting for his life just to form a sentence, while Fungo and Abbachio just can't handle and look away or even walk away 💀Mista trying so hard to make a joke out of it, while beat red in the face ) End of rot rant, sorry if i'm sending in too much stuff.

you have nothing to apologize for omg,... these are beloved asks... i am cradling them gently in my hands ....

'And she's just talking about how a tomato is a fruit or not,' LMAO i love this it captures SR reader's energy so perfectly tyhjrtkmg

giorno would be sighing, resting his chin on his palm, feeling kinda bad for zoning out because he likes you to know you have his attention but. his brain stopped working properly. he can't think of anything especially dazzling to say, just that he sometimes struggles to believe you're real. bruno would be stuck in a similarly difficult predicament. you just make him feel so warm on the inside and in moments like this, it's almost too much. you make him feel human again. his responsibilities melt away, nothing aside from you registering. he could get drunk on the feeling.

fugo hits you with the legendary line 'stop... doing that. being... pretty.' shakespeare who? he screams into his pillow that night in embarrassment. it's amazing how you can turn such an intelligent man into a blubbering fool. he doesn't mind nearly as much as he lets on. abbacchio just getting up and walking away though PFF he'd be clutching his chest the second he left the room, trying to regain himself while your footsteps pad on over. you motivate him to get a physical again to make sure everything's working right in there. he's fine, though, just lovesick to a worrying degree. he has no idea how you do it.

narancia ... he's such a sweetheart... he already feels emotions so strongly, so this is messing him up. in a good way though. you'd have to reassure him that no, this isn't a stand attack (probably?), and that he's got to calm down. take some deep breaths. you'll think it's the cutest thing ever when he explains his reasoning. mista does a somewhat better job at playing it cool, since he always wants to give off this debonair vibe. chokes on his spit a little though and ruins the atmosphere. if pistols have been filched a snack recently, the little snitches will gather around to profess mista's innermost thoughts to you. apparently he's convinced a religion could be started in your honor.

[twilightofthe]

Aight, one last serious post for a bit. After that I think I might back off on some rants and stuff that I’ve been doing because I created this blog to be a positive place, and tbh, discussing stuff I don’t like just makes me upset, especially since I feel like I’m just shouting into either an unhearing void or at an audience that is watching and is distinctly unimpressed

Basically though, I wanted to apologize for the slightly salty posts I’ve made recently (and one like, yesterday lol) complaining about how people portray Anakin’s intelligence. I realize I came across as critical and accusatory of people who are just having fun and likely mean no harm, and it wasn’t fair of me to be all snappy about it. So yeah, I’m extremely sorry about that. I likely hurt people and that was not my intention. Please have fun and headcanon Anakin as anything you want. I love and support you and even if we can’t agree, we can def still be friends!

But, I will take this opportunity to kinda ramble a bit about my own personal experiences with this, and why I view Anakin the way I do, what his character means to me, and why it’s kinda exhausting sometimes to engage in fandom because I have the misfortune of having the unpopular opinion regarding a character, and how hard it is to respect other people’s takes when it seems that every time I give my own takes, it’s like I’m immediately shot down for them and refuted for the popular opinions, like I’m not allowed to believe this thing myself. Why I sometimes just gotta rant a little bit, and why no one should take it personal or as a criticism of them.

This below all delves very intricately into my own personal mindset and life experiences. It’s personal. Please remember this is a very personal post.

Now, to me, I totally understand Anakin has made every mistake in the world. I know he turns into a monster and hurts/(in)directly kills everyone he’s ever loved. I know that. I’m fully aware that he makes mistake after mistake after mistake. I know he’s a flawed character. I’m not saying he’s perfect. He’s far from it.

But at the same time, I can relate to parts of his character. His anxiety, his upset at not being able to live up to the standards he feels everyone’s putting on him when really no one is but him, the feeling of being constantly on the edge because you feel like your entire life is in a spiral and you don’t know how to stop it and every choice you make out of desperation makes things worse, how everyone around you just keeps making so much better choices and it’s like, why can’t I do that? What’s wrong with me? Why are they always right???????

And I love the fact that canonically, despite his utter disaster-ness, he has the potential to be good, to rise. That he is a canonical Gifted Kid, mega-intelligent but just totally unsure how to direct that so he flounders more often than not unless it’s in relation to his few specific interests, giving the feeling like I’m a fake and really there’s only one thing I’m good for. The need to do ANYTHING for validation from others because that’s what feeds you.

I’ve suffered this same insecurity and anxiety and self-hatred I can see in him my whole life, the same inability to properly manage my life like I’m supposed to and that everyone else seems to have figured out, how I could be so much more if I actually knew how to rise to the occasion instead of constantly crash and burn

I love Anakin so much because he is enough like me that I can sympathize and feel for him, but also different enough that when I see him tear down the path of self destruction, I can feel relief that I’m never at that point, and also sympathy that he fell that far (amidst my anger at him for hurting my other faves lol)

I LOVE that he has that ability to be smart and capable but just doesn’t know how to apply himself all the time, love it so much, and that’s why it’s a struggle sometimes when I feel that every time I try and say something showing off that side of him, like comment on something smart and creative he would have done, or something he HAS done right, immediately there’s people responding to me like UH NO ACTUALLY HE IS NOTHING BUT A PURE DUMBASS :) :) :))))))))))) HE DOESN’T HAVE THAT ABILITY/WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO THAT BECAUSE IT’S TOO SMART/SENSIBLE/GOOD FOR HIS POOR FEEBLE MIND, PERHAPS YOU MEANT SOMEONE ELSE MORE CAPABLE?

I’m not kidding about this. I said Anakin was a good cook once? I immediately got a response saying no, he can’t be, he’s a feral gremlin who eats bugs. I tried to start a convo about him having an emotional/meaningful conversation with one of his loved ones about something because he notices something wrong with them? Someone instantly refuted me because “nah he’s too clueless and oblivious to have that kind of emotional sensitivity ever”. I write something in a fic that shows Anakin doing something cool? In comes a guest commenter passive aggressively with something along the lines of “oh your Anakin is SO MUCH smarter and capable than he should be it’s almost OOC, but I’ll believe it for now haha”

I’ve got more instances I can recount, but I’m stopping here. I totally respect people’s headcanons, and right to have fun, I do. I cannot stress enough that people can and should write what the want. But to me, when it feels like people don’t always want to ever consider my takes on his character, when it’s like fandom is constantly churning out reminders of how much they believe he doesn’t have a brain, well, like

It’s like, when you relate to a character like that and keep getting your opinions and ways to relate shut down by the majority no matter what you do or say, it just feels like everyone is telling me “SMART PEOPLE don’t ever fail at things! People with REAL gifts and talents don’t ever waste them or make mistakes. If you’re struggling, if you crash and burn, if you don’t quite have your life together, it can only mean you’re just plain stupid and a failure for the rest of your life. As a Fool, you can’t ever be considered successful or do something right— because that would be doing something Smart and you have Proven Yourself Dumb. All of your accomplishments and thing you’ve done right can either be attributed to someone else deemed More Capable, or could have been done better by something else, so those good things don’t mean anything. Since you acted the fool once, a fool is all you’ll ever be.”

I’ve struggled with that kind of talk from other people and especially from my own insecurities my entire life.

And I know that’s not what people really mean, I know fans are just sharing their headcanons. I know no one wants to hurt anyone, they’re just making a joke and having fun! I call Anakin a dumbass all the time! SW fandom is 99% good people who just wanna play with their own toys and gush about things that they love! I know this is like 90% good faith!

But it gets harder to believe sometimes the Dumb Anakin headcanons are just innocent headcanons and not genuine beliefs when people Will Not let me have different ones without playfully— or not so playfully —reminding me of how wrong they think I am and what they think about his intelligence level and abilities.

And because my own personal history with anxiety and self-destruction, being overwhelmed with that talk really just hurts, and I will never be able to make that hurt response go away, no matter how irrational it is.

But yeah. That’s how I relate to Anakin. That’s why I see him this way. That’s why I cannot resist complaining sometimes. I’ve been at a very low point recently and these negative thoughts have just been worse so I’ve been more cranky about it, but I promise I won’t bring it up too much.

Thanks for listening.

I’m probs not gonna post anything “rant”-related on here for a very long time— or do my damned hardest to try not to.

[idjitmonkey]

Promise Me

Summary: It’s Christmastime in 1942 and your sweetheart Bucky is talking of making promises you’re afraid he can’t keep. 

Word Count: 3,500

Warnings: Angst. Like, a bunch. Major Character Death. 1940′s Bucky. Yes, that’s a warning itself because we’ve all seen that lopsided grin of his with him in uniform. 

A/N: oooooh boy. This is my first fic in a long time and I’m excited and nervous since it’s also the first time writing for Bucky. Please be kind. Gif not mine. I own nothing except my brain that thinks up these awful things.

Tagging: @xetoilerouge​ @sugarfreecapsicle​ @captain-kelli​ @crispychrissy​ @rachel-ruby-rose​ @bolontiku​ @marquiswrites​

December 1942

      The smooth scratch of metal blades digging into the ice filled the silence that stretched between you and the young man who held your hand, his steady presence and warm grip keeping you from falling face first onto the rink. All around, other couples and friends did the same, everyone making laps on the skating rink, passing by the modest trio of trees, each one decorated in the colors of the flag, wooden stars and glass baubles in bright red, white, and blue. Despite the crowd that had turned out for an evening of fun, the mood held a more somber tone. Ever since President Roosevelt asked Congress for it’s Declaration of War last year, brave young men had been signing up left and right to head overseas in directions to both Europe and the Pacific. People were worried about their husbands, their sons, their brothers going off to fight and not making it back home. 

      That included the young man who was holding you close as the pair of you glided along at a more sedate pace than everyone else around you. Your Bucky. His right hand at your mid back was warm, even through the thick layer of your coat, his left clasped tight around yours as he provided the gentle pressure that led you both forward in the slow loop around and around Rockefeller Center’s ice rink. 

      “So, what do you want for Christmas this year, sweetheart?” His voice was honey thick at your temple, the mist of his own breath fanning out in front of you before dissipating into the evening air. It made you smile even as a shiver wormed its way down your spine to warm you up even more than his nearness. 

      “You don’t have to get me anything, Bucky.” After a moment of thought, the protest left your lips as a way to hopefully drop the subject. There was only one thing you wanted, and you were pretty sure Santa couldn’t deliver it. 

      “Uh, uh, uh.” He tutted in response. “There’s gotta be somethin’ you want, doll-face.” Extra pressure at your back prompted you to look into those steel blue eyes of which you were so fond. 

      “I dunno, I’m not really sure. There’s some really nice new handkerchiefs at Macy’s…” You floundered, tone unconvincing even to your own ears. The corner of your mouth twisted at how you sounded and you knew the jig was up when Bucky held your hand tighter and led you both off to one side, out of the way of the crowd still circling the ice. Leaning against the railing, those blue eyes focused only on you, taking both of your chilled hands between his, rubbing life back into them before he spoke. 

      “Come on, that’s the kinda present I’d give my Ma or Rebecca.” His expression was one of skepticism, but it morphed into that cheeky, lopsided smile as he reached to tip you chip up, keeping your gaze steady.

       “Y/n. I know you don’t want me to make a big deal outta this, but I want this Christmas to be special for you. For us.” 

      The reasoning of why he wanted it to be special wasn’t lost on either of you. Your eyes drifted down to the three bars that had recently been added to his dress jacket. James Buchanan Barnes had made the rank of Sergeant. He had more responsibility now in his unit. You also knew that more and more divisions were being sent out to Europe. 

      “Don’t say it like that. Not like that.” You weren’t sure if you were pleading with him or angry at him when you bit the words out. “Like it’s going to be the-” 

      “-Like it’s going to be our last one together?” He interrupted what was sure to be a tirade if he let you pick up any verbal steam.  “Doll, that’s not what I meant by that at all.” One side of his mouth turned up in that half smile that you could never stay upset at. You found yourself tilting your head, eyebrows lifting in an expectant expression: Please explain yourself. 

      The cloud of breath he expelled in a chuckle drifted up between you as Bucky shook his head a little, rubbing your hands between his again, only to reach up and brush his thumb across the apple of your cheek, cool to the touch from the time spent outside. When he spoke again, it was quiet, meant only for you to hear as his forehead came to touch yours.

      “I want this Christmas to be special because I want it to be the first of many we spend together.” 

      The sounds of the other skaters faded to nothing more than white noise when your brain finally caught up to your ears. Was he saying what you thought he was- proposing? 

      “Bucky, I-” Your train of thought was derailed when a pair of kids raced by you and your sergeant, nearly knocking into him in their haste. They called back apologies which you ignored. The moment, however, was broken, and Bucky gathered you close. 

      “Come on, I think we’re better off talking some place we won’t get knocked down.” His grip shifted to your elbow to guide the both of you off the ice and to a bench so that you could change out of your skates. Not a word was spoken as he slipped his hand into yours, walking away from the crowd and up the stairs to the gardens that overlooked Rockefeller Plaza. 

      As you walked, snow had begun to fall. Soft, fat flakes that floated down in silence to catch in your hair and on your coats. It joined the layer of white already coating every available surface, muting the sounds of the city traffic surrounding the buildings that loomed above, imposing structures of steel and brick that were feats of architectural brilliance. But the gentle quiet that had settled around you and Bucky couldn’t calm the racing thoughts in your head, nor the tripping rhythm your heart had picked up as he led you along to a bench, brushing the snow off before folding himself down onto the seat, a soft tug of your hand an invitation to join him. 

      “Bucky, were you trying to say back there what I think you were trying to say? Because as much as I care for you, I don’t think that I could be like the other girls in the office. Getting married before you get shipped out, only to wait to hear if you’re going to return to me or leave me a-” The words wouldn’t keep coming, your throat closing on them like a door being shut against the cold. 

      “No, no! God, sweetheart, that’s not what I meant at all.” Reaching out, his fingers wrapped around yours. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.I wouldn’t dare ask you to wait for me like that.” The shake of his head caused a lock of hair to fall across his forehead. “Plus I’m sure that both your Ma and my sister would kill us if we eloped in some afternoon courthouse ceremony where we’d just be a number in a line of people doing the exact same thing.” 

      “They’d never let us hear the end of it.” Your chuckle was thick, the emotions still  at the surface, lacing your words like the snow dusting the ground. “Steve would probably be upset he wasn’t invited too.” You added, tucking your hands into the pockets of your coat to retrieve your mittens, no longer able to take the biting evening air. 

      “Who do you think I’d ask to be a witness?” Bucky quipped. Those eyes you loved so much twinkled with amusement.

      But the words he said gave you pause. He’d actually thought about it? You turned wide eyes back to him as you tugged the second mitten up onto your wrist, the question clear in your gaze. 

      “Yeah.. Yeah I’ve thought about it, Doll-face.” 

      “But-” Bucky could tell what you were thinking so often that is answers like that never surprised you anymore. “You-” 

      “I what? I said that I wouldn’t make you wait for me, and I meant that, Y/n. I’m not going to marry you then leave you for however long it takes for this war to end. There are going to be far too many young widows who will never get to have a life with the man they call their husband after a trip to the county clerk’s office, Doll. I would never ask that kinda sacrifice from you.” 

        His words did something to your heart and your head. There was so much truth in what Bucky was saying, that it made you forget about the surprise and nervousness when you realized he’d thought about asking you to marry him. For a moment anyway. In an attempt to distract yourself, you brought your covered hands up and rubbed them together as you took in your surroundings, the people leaving the ice rink, some carrying their skates over their shoulders.Some people carrying packages from shopping. How many of the men you saw walking by would be gone overseas this time next year? And how many of them would not make it home to their loved ones?  You didn’t want to consider what it would be like if the man sitting next to you didn’t make it home. It made your chest ache as if a weight had been pressed there, making the breath you pulled into your lungs burn in the most awful way. 

      “I think we’d best be getting back to Brooklyn.” Your tone made Bucky frown and he reached out, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, urging you to look at him. 

      “I didn’t mean to upset you sweetheart. I’m sorry. But I meant it when I said I wanted this Christmas to be the first of a lot of holidays together for the two of us.” His thumb brushed your cheek, the ache in your chest easing off just enough to sigh. Before you could say anything else though, Bucky had scooted closer, invading your space to press a kiss to your forehead. It made you smile. 

     “You’re shivering, Y/n. Let’s go get some coffee or somethin’ before I take you home.” Knowing that it would only upset you further to keep discussing it, Bucky decided to take you back home. Helping you to your feet, he slid one arm around your shoulders to try and warm you up as the snow continued to fall around you. 

      “But you still didn’t tell me what you want for Christmas.” 

Christmas Day 1942 

      The sound of someone knocking at the door had you setting down your cup of coffee. When you opened it, Bucky stood on the other side, brushing snow off of his coat and out of his hair. His smile was bright enough to light up all of the Empire State Building, and it was contagious. 

      “Merry Christmas Doll!” He had a couple of small packages under one arm, readjusting his grip on them as you stepped back to allow him into your small but warm apartment. He looked around as you shut the door, then pivoted to face you. 

      “Where’s you mom? I’ve got a present for her too.” 

      “She’s down the hall with Mrs. O’Connell, helping them get their dinner ready. Mrs. O’Connell slipped on the ice coming home from midnight mass and sprained her ankle.” 

      “Oh…” He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s nice of her.” Then he was stepping into your space, the fingers of his free hand curling around your waist the same time that his lips slanted over yours in a sweet and slightly prolonged kiss. When you broke the kiss, you tried your best to look reprimanding. The fact that your heart was beating wildly inside your chest made your expression a little more dreamy and a lot less stern. Your grip on his shoulders shifted, fingers toying with the short locks of dark hair at the nape of his neck not hidden by his collar. 

      “Bucky! My mom could walk through that door any minute!” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

      “What?” There was that cheeky half smile you loved so much again. “I thought I saw mistletoe hanging above the door. Isn’t that the tradition? Kissing the person next to you when one of you steps under the mistletoe?” 

      You huffed and smacked his shoulder in a playful manner, then stepped out of his reach, crossing the living space to pull another cup and saucer down from a kitchen cabinet. “You are positively incorrigible, James Barnes. What am I going to do with you?” Holding up the cup in a silent question, he shook his head and finally moved to set the packages under his arm on the table. 

      “I can’t stay too long, Steve’s sick again but insisted that I bring your gifts over before you and your mom went to church tonight.” 

      “Oh. I hope he’s not too bad again. You could have waited until tomorrow to bring those by, Bucky if Steve needs you to look after him.” Steve didn’t really have anyone else but Bucky in this world, and you by association. 

      “No, he kept saying that if I didn’t bring them over he was going to get out of bed and bring them himself. And since the punk can’t even get up without falling face first into the rug, I gave into his demands.” Bucky laid a hand on the rectangular package that was fairly thin. “This is from him to you. And the other box is something that I thought your mom might enjoy.” 

      “But before you open Steve’s gift, I want you to open mine first.” From the inside pocket of his coat, Bucky removed a small square box wrapped in a blue ribbon tied into a messy bow. It made you chuckle when you saw it. 

      “Yeah, I know I’m not one for wrappin’ boxes up to make them pretty. I’m better at making a bed look up to regulation.” He joked, holding it out to deposit in your palm. 

      Pulling at one end of the ribbon, it unwound and you let it fall to the kitchen table while you lifted the lid. A gasp left you when you saw the ring. The band was simple, and the stone was a deep green, cut into a trillian style. On either side, four small diamonds flanked the emerald in a four leaf clover setting. Tilting it one way, the light caught inside the stone and sparkled beautifully. You put one hand up to your mouth, shaking your head. 

      “You didn’t- there’s- Bucky it’s so…” A dozen different thoughts ran through your head. How could he have afforded this? It was beautiful, but you couldn’t accept it and you told him as much. 

      “Y/n, sweetheart, it’s not what you think. And I didn’t have to pay a dime for the ring.” Reaching into the box, he lifted out a thin chain that you hadn’t noticed at first, the ring looped into it. “It’s a promise ring. It was. It belonged to my Ma. One of the few nice things she ever had in this world and Becca has kept it for a while now. But she knows just how much you mean to me. And I want you to know that I promise I’m gonna come back to you. This ring is a physical token of the promise that once this war is over, I’m gonna come back and do things right with you, Y/n.”  As he talked, Bucky undid the clasp, standing up and stepping behind you. You swept your hair aside so that he could fix it around your neck. It was perfect. 

      “I don’t know what to say. I want to tell you that I can’t accept this because it belonged to your mom, Bucky. But if Rebecca let you have it, I know better than to argue with her.” Your fingertips rubbed over the stone gently. 

      “I love it.” Getting to your feet, you threw your arms around him, not caring if your mother might actually walk in to see you being so affectionate with James. 

      “But you’d better keep your promise, Sergeant.” You mumbled into the lapel of his coat while he held you close and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

      “I will, Y/n. I will come back to you.” 

January 1945 

      You sighed as you wiped your forehead with the back of one hand, loose strands of hair falling back into your face as you scrubbed at the pot in the sink before rinsing it clean and setting it aside to drip dry. Another week gone by without a letter. The sporadic contact that had come from both Bucky and Steve was wearing down both your morale and your heart even though you knew you were lucky to hear anything at all from anyone. Sporadic letters were better than the telegrams or official letters delivered by a priest in a military uniform. Your neighborhood had seen too many of both of those over the last three years and everyone prayed for this war to end. 

      Reaching for the coffee pot, you began to fill it with water. As it did, your mind wandered back to your sergeant. You hoped that he was okay. That he and his regiment of misfits that he’d written you about, along with Steve were okay. So consumed by your thoughts, you missed that the pot was now overflowing. Cursing to yourself, you reached out to shut off the tap. As you leaned forward to empty out some of the water, there was a metallic clatter, the feeling of something falling over your blouse. Bucky’s promise ring rattled in the sink and you tried to grab it...only to miss as if fell into the drain. 

      “Oh no. No no no!” The pot was set aside as you felt the chain around your neck. It had broken. And your promise ring was gone. “Oh no. No please!” 

      Kneeling down, you pushed aside the curtain that hid the plumbing from view. A feeling of panic bubbled up, expressing itself in a sob as you twisted fruitlessly at the pipe under the sink. It couldn’t be gone. What would Bucky say?? Would he be upset that you’ve lost his mother’s ring? Of course he would! Your fingers hurt from trying to loosen the U-shaped pipe, then you gave it a few smacks with the heel of your hand, thinking that might knock it loose enough to do some good. You had to get it back. Maybe the landlord downstairs had some tools that he could use to retrieve it. Letting go of the pipe, you swiped at the tears now slipping down your cheeks in an attempt to calm yourself.  You would go downstairs, beg Mr. Gordon to come up and get the ring out of the sink and it would be okay. Bucky wouldn’t even have to know what happened when he came back.

      Just as you pushed yourself to your feet, the telephone receiver rang on the table down the hall. “Oh not now.” But your answered it anyway, worried it could be your mother. 

      “Hello?” Any other time, the voice on the other end of the phone would be a welcome distraction. You loved hearing from Bucky’s sister, but right now she was the last person you wanted to talk to, and you really didn’t want to explain why.

       “Rebecca! Oh, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I can’t talk right now, I’ve got to get the landlord for a problem with the sink, could I please call you back? It’s a last minute problem, but it’s really important.” The words rushed out as you tugged the now useless chain off your neck and tucked it into the pocket of your blouse. You hoped she’d say yes because if you continued to talk, you would definitely tell her what had just happened and that was the last thing you wanted.  From the other end of the line, however, Bucky’s sister started speaking quickly. Your fingertips that were anxiously toying with the cord stopped moving, nails digging into the thick black rubber coil.

      “I’m s-sorry I-” You hadn’t heard her correctly through her own sniffling and tears. “What’s… What’s wrong? Is-” 

      “It’s Bucky, Y/n. He’s gone. He didn’t make it, Y/n.” 

      The world shifted and swayed as something inside your chest cracked, the pieces of your heart splintering into shards as your worst nightmare was now made into your reality. The receiver dropped from your hand, clattering on the hall table as you tried to steady yourself by grabbing the wall. 

Some time later, your mother found you on your knees crying, the phone still off the hook, your Bucky’s ring still out of reach.