#idk man I just see the whole thing and I'm like ''???'' about it

[elliesglock]

AI BABY ANALYSIS

so most of this live is spent without pazzi because they off doing sum freaky nasty in their dorm room or sum and can't join the party. big shocker i know. since there's not much from pazzi in this live this is gonna be a tiny analysis. hopefully you know how i like to yap. so welcome to part 458493 of redoing my analyses cause i nuked my account.

i'm gonna post the part 2 of the live because that's when paige and azzi decide to come up for air and join the gang. all time stamps in this analysis will be from that part 2 video i will link. okay guys girls and theys. these bitches are a freaky mess. 0:12 so everybody's vibing right and watching aubrey edits and then they start looking off into the distance and waving their hands for whoever just walked in to come in. now they're screaming and yelling and going NUTSOOOO right. and to me it's a teasy thing like they always do. they always scream and yell when paige and azzi join lives cause that's how we are and they think it's funny. but the energy gives this friend group's couple just walked in and everybody's excited, yelling and screaming to me funny. even aubrey is like yall have got to chill. they first start yelling at paige and personally i think it's because azzi's hidden behind her in the door and they think it's just her. their faces to me are like girl you're here but where's ur other half bookie! then eventually (i'm assuming azzi makes a face and comes into their sight due to jana's banshee screaming) because they all laugh and say azziii! and they don't look surprised at all. they're all so casual with the idea that paige and azzi walked in to together, this is an everyday thing. it's always assumed that where you see one you'll find the other because they just linger around each other that much. that's what this whole live gives. they off camera for most of it but it's sooooo noticeable how their friends act around them and treat them like a couple cause that's how they know them to be, insert example one how they react to them walking in. 0:30 azzi and paige poke their faces in the live to tease us and it's sooooo cute and why do they lowkey look exactly the same. idk this soulmate bs really messing around with them. kayla goes up to hug them and it feels sooo coupley, like i said being the friend groups couple. the friends all come to hug and say hi and ask how yall are doing because the love between you pulls people in, if that makes sense? i find it so sweet kayla went to hug them like they're everybody's moms who are in love with each other and in the best relationship known to man. it's also so prevalent in how jana looks at them, she just admires them so much it's so apparent in her eyes. because who wouldn't be happy watching their friends be that happy with their person. UGH OKAY WERE MOVING ON IM SICK. 1:00-1:19 alright yall im gonna get a little sick and twisted here and talk about the significance IN MY LIFE AND THOUGHTS of whatever the fuck is going w paige's hair in this live. it's in this like thrown up low bun kinda thing. and in a way it reminds me of a bun you put ur hair in when ur going down on.......yk. like u toss ur hair back and put it up quickly to get started and thats what her hair gives. she looks so lesbianism in this live im goofed. she also has this slow kinda walk to her and this goofy, playful energy around her that tells me she just got some before she walked in. this might be insane to put but im just saying it hardens my theory that they were busy doing something before they came to join. maybe kayla texted them to come over mid session and they came after yk. 1:19 also azzi kinda lingers in the back when paige goes to goof off with aubrey and it so gives she's watching her wife goof off with her buds and she's like shaking her head but in a lovey dovey wife way. idk just my projection but it def gives that. also everybody has this sus and funny ass look on their face watching paige walk cause hg is struggling bad. okay again im gonna be insane and say something, but to me paige's whole demeanor and look and fit and everything about her screams she just got kissed silly in bed for a bit, like she JUST rolled out of bed with her girl and came straight over. this is crazy to say but her energy gives she's been heavily loved that day and idk that sound weird but i can just see azzi holding, kissing, and loving on her in bed before they came and she still has that meek,

shy (only azzi) kinda facade on.

3:10 and this might constitute the teasy behavior they display in this next bit. so paige is talking to jana and then realizes she doesn't have her phone. idk if azzi is scrolling on it (she prob is) or if it's just laying near azzi, but paige asks azzi if she can have her phone. also the way she says please ugh that's your girl i know, i know ur so polite to her. this has been pointed out before on different accounts, but it seems as though azzi grabs her arm or hand and holds it and starts playing it. almost like she's playing with her fingers and hands because u can see paige's arm move. and she gets SUPERRRR tense like the kinda tense you get when ur pretty girlfriend is being touchy and teasy. she zones out because that's just what paige does when azzi touches her, it's literally like she's powering up everytime her girl even gets near her. and she's staring at the phone screen almost absentmindedly while her attention is subconsciously on azzi touching her. she has this awkward tense body language at the same time that doesn't paint a very single and not in a relationship picture lemme tell u. i just really love how paige responds to azzi. she's so sensitive to touch when it comes to her and it shows to me she really loves her and goes nuts when azzi even does anything close to fufilling her love language which i personally think is touch. and omg ill never forget the look on her face after she asks a few more times if azzi would please hand her phone to her. she accepts azzi just wants to hold her hand and she gets this little grinny/smirky look on her face like mmmm yeah that's my girl. LIKE SHES SO SMUG WHEN AZZI IS TOUCHY OMG I LOVE IT SO BAD. it's one of my favs cause paige really enjoys that shit. she wants to be claimed and she wants azzi to initiate, as one does yk, because it FEELS good to be wanted by someone you love so much. we never have to worry about it that spark ever goes away or if they get more casual as the years go on cause a sign of a healthy couple is ALWAYS if they still get nervous and smiley when their partner gets near/touchy w them. 3:24 eventually azzi lets go of paige's hand after she gives that look and she puts her hand down next to her. it also just screams to me that azzi DID have her arm or her hand because why else would paige just keep her arm there for no reason. after this, azzi seems so eager to give paige her phone back cause she knowsssss she's been touchy w her girl all day long and she just wanted to sneak in a little extra too around the familiarity of their friends. i ain't hating ur game azzi i know it.

3:34 now this next part :(((. it makes me so emotional omg im about to get my period but UGH it's literally so perfect, and sweet, and human the way they love each other. makes me want to put their love in a jar and never let anyone else have it. jana is showing paige a tik tok after she gets her phone back. she clicks on it and paige kinda reads through the slides and then her whole face lights up. SPECIFICALLY when a certain slide pops up she gets this huge shocked, happy face and laughs. now this specific slide is very dear to me because it's an AGENDA. it's an ai baby of what paige's kids would look like and i honestly think the original creator was being messy because they all look like paige and azzi's kids and not like one she just put in a random generator. ANYWHO. everybody around the phone looks at the video and smiles so wide at it. and it's very evident this is something that touches paige a lot cause she seems SO almost appreciative in her looks towards azzi but we'll get into that in a second. THIS MESSY BITCH JANA goes to the slide that paige was smiling at and says "this is yalls" AND NOT ONLY THAT BUT kayla's i don't have a poker face ass looks STRAIGHT at azzi as jana says it. perfectly describing to us whose kid it is. WE KNOW WHICH COUPLE IT IS THANKS KAYLA. idk the friends reactions get me cause again they admire their relationship so much and cheer it on so much that they'll send videos to paige about this being "their" kid. now paige just makes me so emotional during this clip and idk if it's the music in the background or if i wanna be loved this hard but the way she looks at azzi :( azzi's kinda confused bc she hasn't read through the whole tt yet and paige doesn't really wanna show the live what tt video it is because i honestly think she wants to keep it to herself. but paige looks up at azzi almost mapping her out and you can SEE how bad she wants a future w azzi reflects in her eyes when she looks at her. she sees the ai baby and she's like omg i want a life w this girl so bad. STOP, DEADASS IM STOPPING THE ANALYSIS THIS IS BS 💔. ugh one day these beautiful girls will be blessed w a marriage and babies and i'll be cheering them on so bad :(. i know they want it and i can see how much they want to have a future w one another and i think that's why this live makes me so emotional.

so it's a little more quiet from now on, i did yap so ofc there's more for yall to read and i stretched out this small ass live. i'm so bad w yapping my apologies. 7:11 paige kinda gives us permission to look at her girl for a second cause she wants everybody to see her so she turns to the camera to show everyone azzi the princess is here! she's like guys look at my gf!! she's so pretty! but you're only allowed to look at her when i say so! okay greedy ass we get it. oh look at me i'm paige bueckers and have an amazing relationship w this beautiful woman i've been in love with since i was born like OKAYYYYY.

grand finale folks:

they don't kiss BYE!

8:43 okay i'm kidding. now i don't know what was decided between paige and azzi because these next sequence of events tells me azzi decided to stay back for a second instead of leaving w paige. and ill explain why. paige waves goodbye to the camera and shuffles past everyone to wear azzi is standing off camera. the girls are watching tik toks and its very loud. i guess paige assumed since the music was on she could sneak a good bye kiss to azzi real quick but she gets caught oopsieeeeeee. personally at 8:48 i hear the kiss. it's def a goodbye kiss that paige is giving azzi as she says to aubrey she's going to go do some organizing or unloading or sum and she's leaving. it's like a bye baby i'll see u later kinda peck that accidentally gets caught cause they're so close to the camera. and ofc because this is always a teller, everybody's reaction around them makes me think they're like oh shit did the camera pick that up. cause kayla peeps it cause she can obv see more than we do and her eyes kinda widen before she looks back down at the phone to give them privacy and not draw attention. ice brady was in everybody's spirits this night. but yes i think paige kissed azzi rq to say goodbye and maybe said she loves her or sum like that. it's a quick kiss cause they're seeing each very soon again and that's the vibes.

here's what everyone anticipated the long awaited ai live analysis. hope you enjoyed and happy reading! feel free to leave ur thoughts as well pookies!! 💗

[familyvideostevie]

tlou season 2 episode 6 thoughts PART 2

this is in 2 parts bc tumblr hates me. part 1 here

this post is...the bad stuff. :)

spoilers for tlou hbo and tlou part ii below

EPISODE 6: THE PRICE

BAD -some folks call this a gee tar. my god I'm so sorry but this "southern accent" kills me like christ above -the more i think about joel making her the guitar instead of him finding it and giving it to her, the more it bothers me. yes, him making it is really nice. but in the game, he finds the guitar and fixes it up, but it already has the moth inlay on the fretboard. to me, the moth starts there. on something he finds and gives to her. and then she finds herself attached to it -- drawing it, getting it as a tattoo, etc. (i think there is some story about how they decided to have the tattoo and the guitar match later in the process but don't quote me there). in this way it's something joel brings into her life and she makes it her own but then it also is attached to him -- a symbol of death. poetic, right? but here, joel sees the moth in her drawings and then puts it on the guitar. it no longer has anything to do with him. it means death and he's worried about it. i just -- i don't like this. i think it undermines the entire symbol. -let's talk about the 17th birthday flashback. i hated every single second of this. every single second. i have imagined how we get from ellie living with joel to her living in the garage a million times. she suggests it, he doesn't know how to ask her to stay so he lets her go, etc. i did not imagine it as a punishment (this fits with the HBO version of ellie this season tbf but still). punishment for...joel being kind of homophobic???? like, okay, being a parent is hard or whatever, and she was smoking weed and getting a tattoo and fooling around, but. come ON. was that NECESSARY. and the way he doesn't apologize? i just. man, idk who this man is. the only thing i did like is how he will let her go into the garage if he fixes it up. i have written that myself in a fic, lol. but, christ! i hated all of this. how angry he is, how much distance is between them but about other things. -too many flashbacks in general??? why??? 15th birthday, 16th birthday, 17th birthday, 19th birthday, 19 and 9 months for the Night Before. the pacing of this episode was wack as fuck and frankly, after watching s2 of andor and seeing how they did a flashback heavy episode (210 if you're curious) successfully? its like, how did you make this so choppy! -ellie going on her first patrol at 19 does explain why she's a fucking idiot most of the time this season -eugene flashback...okay. i've written scenes like this -- what happens when someone is infected, what happens if they come back, how does the community handle it. the progression of infection being more rapid in the show makes this harder, obviously, but i just do not get what we are showing here. is this meant to remind us that joel is cruel? or that he has a capacity for mercy that is a little warped? (very look at the flowers coded iykwim). obviously this is meant to tie us back to salt lake and joel's choice and we're meant to question his choices and who he is doing them for. but he's following rules. his mistake is lying again to ellie. in the strings flashback (which is the closest one to this content-wise) he lies to her again but about the same thing. and he has the whole i know you wish things were different. i wish things were different. but they ain't. but here he is just lying again about more stuff. and frankly? i get why he lies to gail - he was laying it on a little thick, but. and then. GOD. ELLIE throwing a TANTRUM and making eugene's death ABOUT HERSELF. insane timing, insane use of i swore. also tommy being there -- is this meant to parallel the cold open? other people seeing what joel is capable of and calling him on it? just like. ugh ugh ugh ugh

-okay, deep breath. the porch scene. the promised porch scene. they had me in the first half, i can't lie. her reapproach, the way it starts, the coffee convo. and then. then it goes fucking off the rails. first of all, it felt like it was from joel's pov? which is a weird choice to me -- the framing and the focusing really put us with him emotionally rather than ellie. which i get, since the flashback starts in his pov. but this scene is about ellie. so the way they rewrote this -- they're combining the salt lake city flashback from the game where she cuts off their relationship two years ago and the porch scene in the game, where they finally come back together.

obviously that has to change since they've changed the timeline here. but instead we get joel crying out of guilt? for what? i know this joel is softer than game!joel but come on. all of his emotions and his dialogue in this scene are just so...manipulative parent? crying cause he's upset that he's hurt her, saying I'll pay the price because you're gonna turn away from me. and then all that shit about him loving her -- saying that he loves her in a way she can't understand. and making this about parents and kids -- and then quoting his dad???? i just don't get what this was doing.

i don't see how THIS ellie can possibly move from i don't need your fucking help to i was supposed to die to i want to try. to have the reveal of the hospital in the same conversation as her forgiveness -- or the hope of it. it's just such WEIRD PACING. and then for her to say the stuff she does the next morning about her and joel being her and joel, and all of that. it's such uneven emotional processing and while it retains the tragedy it's like. just not working for me.

So, overall, i see that a lot of the things i don't like do actually work in the context of the writing and characterization we've been given for the show. however i don't like either of those things most of the time, so! :) the immaturity, the explosive anger, joel's worry and helicopter parenting. i just -- i was so ready to be on board but like. why are critics saying this is one of the best episodes. it was like a speedrun of the most important pieces of context we get. so, yeah. man, fuck. I'm so mad i hated it so much. UGH.

[thunderbolt-ing]

"I Can't Do It Alone." — 3

PART ONE | PART TWO Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Fem!Reader Summary: Denial is a river in Egypt. In other words, the signs are there, but you dodge them like bullets. Warnings: idk gunshots and distant gunfights, you'll see. idk if that's a trigger, but please tell me if anything in this chapter is. I'm really bad at this warnings part. A/N: NO CHANCE NO WAY I WONT SAY IT NO NO (you swoon, you sigh, why deny it uh oh) that was playing in my head while writing the majority of this part. Also, this is happening during thunderbolts if that wasn't obvious enough. if you haven't seen the movie, you'll probably be confused, or probably not. I've read through this several times but I'm sure there are still mistakes i didn't catch so i do apologize in advance. Word count: ~5.7k words. I hope this keeps you fed while my brain regroups.

Later that Same Evening Long After the Gala

Your flight, much to your mounting irritation, had been cancelled. At this point, it felt like the universe was dead set on keeping you in D.C., a place you didn’t particularly mind, but didn’t want to linger in either. You just wanted to go back to New York, back to your routine, and back to your job. 

Still, you weren’t helpless. Sure, you complained and cursed out every possible godly being, but you had things under control within minutes. You’d already opened three tabs on your phone, scanned for reasonably priced motels near the airport, and mentally mapped out your commute the next morning. 

Then your phone buzzed. 

Bucky Barnes: You’re not on the plane. You: no hi? hello? how are you? You: wait, how did u know that You: nevermind. sometimes i forget you used to be a major league stalker Bucky Barnes: I prefer the term retired assassin.                 You: that’s not any better                                                Bucky Barnes: Moving on. Bucky Barnes: Your flight was cancelled. Why didn’t you tell me? You: because i didn’t think i needed to tell you…? You: besides, i can handle myself you know. currently booking a room at a motel nearby as we speak Bucky Barnes: No need. On my way. Bucky Barnes: Before you can argue, I have a spare room. 

You stared at the message, blinking. Not only did he predict that you were going to protest, but he was already making his way back to the airport when he had just dropped you off hours ago. You sat down heavily on the nearest bench in the ‘departures’ terminal, trying to make sense of that familiar ache in your chest. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like this. It was little things, things he never pointed out, never made a show of. He just… showed up. It was as if no version of his evening didn’t include making sure you got home safe. 

You tapped your phone screen again, reading his text over. 

No need. On my way. 

You could’ve insisted, you should’ve insisted. You weren’t helpless, you knew how to navigate things alone, you’d been doing it your whole life. But somehow, with Bucky, the line between stubborn independence and reluctant comfort blurred just a little. 

You typed a reply. Paused. Deleted it. 

Then, you tucked your phone into your pocket and told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just Bucky being Bucky. It wasn’t about you. He’d do the same for anyone because that was just the kind of man he was: reliable, responsible, and frustratingly decent.

But then he’d do things that chipped away at that belief. It was gentle, subtle things that left you standing in the ruins of your own logic, questioning everything all over again. 

It was infuriating.

This, or rather he, was not what you were here for. You were hired for a job, a purpose. You were supposed to be focused on policy briefings, constituent emails, scheduling, and outreach. Not your boss’s inconvenient acts of quiet heroism. Your job was to make sure he passed legislation, kept his approval ratings high, and won re-election. He was good at his job because you were excellent at yours. You were a team, impeccably efficient, practically unbeatable, and you couldn’t complicate that. 

So you did what you did best: Deny. Bury. Move on.

The familiar, low roar of a motorcycle engine ripped through your thoughts like a needle scratching across a record. You looked up and there he was, just as he said he would be. 

Bucky was straddling his bike, helmet-clad, and still in the same dress shirt and slacks he wore to the gala. The black tailored jacket that completed the look was gone, leaving his sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. He looked less like a congressman and more like someone who belonged on the cover of a vintage motorcycle ad—windswept, timeless, and entirely unaware of the effect he had. 

You held back a sigh. You really wish he had taken the car instead. 

Bucky pulled up just in front of where you sat, killed the engine, and swung his leg over the bike with practiced ease. He removed his helmet and walked it over, holding it out to you wordlessly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You stared at it for a beat too long, then up at him. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight raise of his brow said, ‘Are you really going to argue with me about this?’ You were, you thought about it, but you didn’t this time. 

You took the helmet reluctantly, securing it on your head before tightening the straps of your backpack with practiced movements. Bucky then swung his legs over the motorcycle with ease, settling into the seat and steadying the bike with one foot so you could comfortably hop on. 

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were ready. “Hold tight,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm. Then, with the smallest smirk in his tone, he added, “On my waist, L/N. You know how this works.” “I know, I know,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You hovered your hands awkwardly near his sides, as if proximity alone could meet the safety requirement. 

You heard him sigh, low and amused, before his mechanical hand reached back and gently guided your arms into place, adjusting your grip until your hands were flat and secure against his waist. “There,” he said, his voice softer this time. “Now you won’t fall off.” You scoffed. You hated the way your chest tightened at the casual intimacy of it all and the way he didn’t even seem to realize what moments like this did to you. 

He rolled off into the streets with familiar ease, weaving through traffic as the city lights blurred around you. The cool air stung your cheeks, and your hair whipped wildly in the wind, but you barely noticed. Your gaze was distant and unfocused, caught between reality and thought. This was just second nature to him. Just muscle memory. Nothing more. 

You let a cheek rest lightly on his back, more out of necessity than affection, or so you told yourself. The low, steady roar of the bike filled the silence between you as he sped through the streets, guiding you both toward the safety of his apartment. 

You were fine. This was fine. 

You weren’t going to read into it, you never did. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

A little while later, he pulled into a quiet brick building nestled just a few ways away from the Capitol. As the motorcycle came to a stop, you swung your leg over and quickly stepped off, removing the helmet and letting it hang loosely on your side. The neighborhood before you was calm and unassuming, the kind of place where people walked their dogs at dusk and kids left their bikes on the steps. Trees lined the sidewalks, their branches rustling gently in the breeze, and clusters of native flowering bushes bloomed with the kind of effortless charm that only came from being carefully tended to. 

Bucky led you through the front doors of his apartment building and up to his unit, unlocking it with ease. He pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting you go in first.

“Make yourself at home,” he said casually, his voice warm as he hung his keys on a small hook by the door.

You placed your backpack and his helmet on the couch, your eyes examining your surroundings. The apartment, much like himself, was understated but intentional. The space was minimalistic, but not cold. Everything had a purpose, and nothing felt out of place. The furniture was simple and functional, built for the comfort of a single man, yet it still gave the space a quiet charm. The walls were mostly bare, painted in muted, neutral tones. But above the couch hung a vintage map of Brooklyn, the colors faded with age, with corners slightly curled. A nostalgic tribute to the place he still called home in his heart. 

What truly drew your attention, though, was the bookshelf tucked away in the corner of the living room. You found yourself drifting toward the shelf while he headed into the kitchen without a word, the sound of the refrigerator opening faint in the background. The shelf was more than a storage space for novels; it felt like a time capsule. It held a collection of memories and fragments of identity that Bucky let speak for themselves. Dog-eared novels of well-loved paperbacks lined the shelf—Hemingway, Baldwin, Fitzgerald, and Twain. There were newer ones too, titles you recognized instantly because you were the one who had recommended them. You smiled to yourself, feeling a small tug of surprise and warmth in your chest. You never thought he’d actually take your suggestions seriously, much less keep them. And yet, there they were, nestled between the literary giants like they belonged. Some even had worn spines and folded corners, proof that he hadn’t just bought them to be polite, he had read them, really read them.

But it wasn’t just the books that captured you. It was the small trinkets nestled between them that told a different story. 

There were framed photos, some in color, some in black and white. A shot of him and Steve, mid-laugh in front of Coney Island, a frozen echo of simpler days. Another, more recent, with Sam grinning beside him, sunglasses on like he owned the world. And then there was the one that made you pause: a photo of Bucky in his 1940s Sergeant uniform. His expression was proud, boyish, and untouched by the weight of what would come after. You found yourself tracing the edge of the frame with your fingertips, wondering what kind of man he was back then, before HYDRA, before the Winter Soldier. Before the world tried to break him.

Your musings were swiftly interrupted by a soft mrow echoing from the hallway. Your eyes darted toward the sound, then flicked to Bucky, who was still in the kitchen, too preoccupied with ordering food on the phone to notice you snooping around his living room.

Curiously, you padded quietly down the hallway toward the noise. At the end of it, lounging like she owned the place, was a fluffy white cat. She was elegant, clearly a ragdoll, with a silky coat and mismatched blue and yellow eyes that tugged instantly at your heartstrings. Before you could even kneel or say anything, the feline rose and began trotting toward you with confidence, her little bell collar chiming softly with each graceful step. You crouched instinctively, a grin tugging at your lips as she nuzzled against your leg like she’d known you forever. You got hold of her collar and turned it around to see the cat’s name. Alpine.

“No, no, no!” Bucky called from behind you, his voice laced with sudden panic. “She—”

He stopped short as he watched you scoop the cat effortlessly into your arms and cradle her like you had done it a hundred times before.

“—bites,” he finished weakly, blinking in disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said with a soft laugh, nuzzling her fur as she purred contentedly in your arms. “She’s the sweetest thing. She just walked right up to me.”

Alpine rubbed her head against your chin, purring like a small motor and clearly smitten. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he was short-circuiting. This was definitely not how he expected things to go. He'd anticipated claws, maybe a hiss, possibly even you swearing never to step foot in his apartment again, not you holding Alpine like a baby and kissing her on the head.

“I locked her in my room before I went to get you,” he confessed, still staring at the cat in disbelief. “I don’t know how she got out.”

“What can I say?” you replied smugly, scratching behind Alpine’s ears as she melted into your chest. “Cats love me.”

Bucky let out a small breath of laughter, but the smile that followed was something else entirely. It was soft and unguarded in a way you weren’t used to seeing from him. It wasn’t the polite grin he donned at work; this was warm, and it pulled at something within you despite how hard you tried to pretend it didn’t.

Bucky blinked and cleared his throat, as if snapping himself out of whatever trance he’d slipped into. 

Then, the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, cutting through the moment like a blade.

“Pizza’s here,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven, almost like he had forgotten how to speak. 

“Yeah, I got it,” you replied quickly, a little too quickly. You gently set Alpine down, earning a small meow in protest, though you barely registered it. Your entire focus was on putting distance between yourself and his warm, disarming gaze that made you feel both seen and exposed. You bolted toward the door like it might save you because staying in that moment for a second longer would’ve cracked something wide open, something that you weren’t entirely ready to admit even existed. 

You returned a few minutes later, heading straight to the kitchen, clutching the box like it was some sacred offering to the gods of casual indifference. Normal. You just needed normal. 

Despite your best efforts to sweep everything under the rug, the universe seemed to have a sick sense of humor. Standing before you was Bucky, his white dress shirt now unbuttoned and hanging loosely on his frame. Beneath it, his white tank top clung to him in a way that made you wish you hadn’t looked at all. To top it off, his hair was tousled too, like he had raked his hand through it one too many times. 

You dropped the box on the counter a little harder than necessary, flipping it open. The two of you wordlessly reached for a slice, your fingers brushing his just briefly, but the contact sent a jolt up your arm like you’d grabbed a live wire. You felt the heat rush to your face. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You bit into a slice with unnecessary focus, hoping the act of chewing would drown out your incessant thoughts. 

Ever since the gala, your brain had been on a reckless little joyride of stupidity, teasing the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was something there. Something more than the long hours you two spent together, the satisfying banter, and the way he always seemed to notice when you needed something before you even asked. 

But that was completely ridiculous. You blamed it on the proximity, on the caffeine-fueled late nights, on the way his voice sounded at 2 in the morning when both of you were buried in policy drafts and half-eaten takeout. You blamed it on the fact that you hadn’t been with anyone in years, that you were lonely, and maybe your standards had plummeted into dangerous, shark-infested territory.

But none of that mattered because this was your boss. Congressman James Buchanan Barnes. 

He wasn’t supposed to be a possibility, not even a consideration. Not with his title, not with your job, and definitely not with the line you swore you’d never cross. 

Your internal tirade was thankfully derailed when your eyes landed on a small stack of untouched, unopened, and suspiciously pristine dockets sitting nearly on the far end of the counter. Those were the same files you’d handed him last Friday, neatly and painstakingly compiled in preparation for the upcoming congressional hearing on the veteran aid bill the two of you had been pushing for. 

“I gave these to you last Friday,” you called out, placing your half-slice down and crossing the kitchen with growing suspicion. You plucked one of the folders off the pile and flipped it open. “Don’t tell me you’re procrastinating, the hearing’s in like five days.” 

“No, of course not,” Bucky scoffed, replying far too quickly for your liking, and springing into motion as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. He practically lunged for the files, his hand landing just beside yours. “I’m a slow reader. I’m working on it.”

“Sure, I’ll entertain your lies.” 

“I am!” He insisted, pressing his metal hand on his chest as if swearing an oath. “Okay, how about this: let’s read it together. Like the partners that we are.” 

You let out a deep sigh, more dramatically than intended, but you were already gathering the files and opening them to begin reading. 

“Fine,” you said, waving a hand. “Whatever it takes to get this bill passed and to make sure you don’t crash and burn during questioning.”

Bucky grinned, “What would I do without you?” 

“Get expelled from Congress.” You deadpanned.

You didn’t miss the way he stood closer than he needed to be. Or the way his fingers brushed yours again when he handed you a pen. Or how annoyingly aware you were of how warm he looked in that god forsaken tank top. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The two of you worked in perfect harmony, like a well-oiled machine that had been running for years—each movement seamless, each glance understood without needed explanation. You highlighted and annotated key sections of the bill, patiently talking him through the language, coaching him on how to sell it with conviction. Your notes were meticulous, filled with cues and conversational maps, anticipating every possible question or objection he might face. You were the strategist, charting the battlefield with deadly precision. He was the warrior, prepared to defend the legislation like it were something sacred. 

With one last slice left in the box and the clock ticking well past midnight, the two of you finally closed the last of the files. Everything was highlighted, annotated, and flagged. For once, you were ahead of schedule and had plenty of time for Bucky to go back through and add his own thoughts. A small victory, but it felt like a triumph.

You exhaled deeply and leaned back with a stretch, arms overhead as your spine cracked in relief. “Finally,” you mumbled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Bucky reached for the last slice without looking up, flipping through the final few pages of the docket as he chewed thoughtfully. “No, it wasn’t bad,” he said, almost offhand, “but that’s only because you’re here.”

You barely had time to react before a dollop of sauce slipped from Bucky’s slice, landing right on the front of his crisp white dress shirt and barely streaking his vibranium forearm. Without thinking, you moved, reaching for a napkin and dabbing at the mess with brisk, practiced motions before it could soak into the fabric, or worse, find its way into the crevices of his mechanical arm. 

He stilled under your touch, his eyes dropping to your hands as they moved carefully and deliberately, as if this wasn’t the first time it happened. 

You don’t have to look out for me so much, you know?” he said, voice quiet and unguarded. 

You didn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t,” you deflected breezily, “I just didn’t want that shirt to get ruined. It’s a good shirt, looks expensive.”

Bucky huffed a small laugh and leaned back slightly to let you toss the napkin into the trash. Then, without hesitation, he shrugged off the dress shirt entirely, leaving him in the fitted white tank underneath. The fabric clung to his shoulders and chest, and you averted your eyes before your thoughts could spiral again. 

“Oh, but you do,” he said with that infuriating half-smile. His voice was playful, but there was something heavier underneath that lingered.

“At least it didn’t get in the arm. I hate putting this thing in the dishwasher.”

You glanced back at him, “Your arm is dishwasher safe?” You asked, grateful for the shift in tone. You tilted your head, a smirk tugging at your lips, “Wow. Innovation.”

He chuckled, “Wakandan tech.” He said dismissively as if it was the most obvious, most casual thing in the world. Then he moved on to clean the counter, tossing the empty pizza box in the trash. 

“But seriously,” he added, glancing at you again, “I meant what I said. You’ve got this way of looking out for people. For me. I notice it.” 

You tried not to let his words settle. “It’s my job,” you said stiffly, wiping down the counter and moving the dockets to a cleaner surface. 

He only smiled gently, “No, it’s not. Your job is to make sure I don’t screw up legislation on the Senate floor. To prep me for hearings. It’s not staying up past midnight to coach me through policy language I should already know. It’s not sprinting across the kitchen to stop a stain from getting on my arm.”

Then, he paused, eyes softening, “It’s not caring like this.” 

You froze. You didn’t want to look at him, not with everything suddenly cracking wide open like this. You could’ve said something cold and sharp. Something to deflect. But for once, nothing came, and your usual wit failed you. 

Instead, you said quietly, “I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s just easier to take care of other people than deal with my own problems.”

There was a long silence before he responded.

“I do that too,” Bucky said finally, his voice stripped of pretense. “Pretend I’m fine. Push things down until they’re out of reach. I still fight battles in my head every damn day. And sometimes, I look at who I am now and wonder if it’s ever going to be enough to make up for the things I’ve done.”

You looked at him, seeing right through. For the first time, you didn’t see the Congressman, the anti-hero, or even the man you worked beside every day. You saw someone fractured and still healing. Somehow, that made him even more impossible to ignore. 

“I think you’re doing better than you think,” you said softly. “You’re not perfect, Bucky. No one is. But you care about this bill. You care about people. That matters. You matter.”

His jaw tightened like he wasn’t used to hearing that, not from anyone who meant it. He tried to smile, but it faltered under the weight of the moment.

“You really scare the shit out of me sometimes,” he murmured.

You blinked at him. “What…?”

He let out a quiet laugh through his nose, something halfway between affection and disbelief.

“Because I’m smart and capable?” you offered, trying to deflect with humor.

He shook his head. “No,” he said simply. “Because you see me. And… I don’t know what to do with that.”

And just like that, the air between you thickened again. Not with fear, but with understanding. The kind of quiet recognition that neither of you were quite ready to say out loud. For one suspended moment, it was just the two of you, unspoken things hanging heavy in the silence.

Then came the reality check. 

Bucky’s phone buzzed sharply against the countertop, the sound almost jarring. The screen lit up with Unknown Caller in bold letters. You both looked at it like it might explode.

“You going to get that?” you asked, the question more of a lifeline than anything else, a gentle nudge away from the dangerous emotional territory you’d both just wandered into.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, grabbing the phone like it gave him something to do with his hands. He hit the speaker. “This is Barnes.”

There was a moment of static, then a soft voice came through. “Hi. It’s Mel. Valentina’s assistant.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, your eyes widening. It worked. The stupid gala and the Mission Impossible-esque stunt you two pulled, it worked. You elbowed Bucky hard in the ribs, silently urging him to say something before the girl got spooked.

“Oh. Hi. Yes—hi, Mel, thank you for calling me. I didn’t—”

“I can’t talk long,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “So I’ll get to the point.”

You stilled and held your breath. Bucky didn’t even blink.

“I want to help,” Mel continued, rushed and panicked. “Val told me to incinerate evidence tonight. Records. Files. People.”

You exchanged another look with Bucky, both of your pulses spiking.

“—People who know too much. She told me to get rid of them, but they escaped somehow, and if you’re fast, you can find them. Get them to testify.” 

“Mel, you don’t know how much this helps us.” Bucky said quickly, leaning forward, “We’ll protect you. My partner is here, she can coordinate witness protection—“

“Thank you, Congressman, but I’m not interested.” Her voice tightened with fear, as if someone was or had already interrupted her. “Have a great night!” 

The call ended. Silence fell once more, sharp and electric.

You stared at Bucky’s phone. “Holy shit.” You muttered, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, “That was it! That was the seed! That was our shot!”

“Barely,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “She didn’t even tell us where they are. We don’t even have a lead.”

“Barnes,” you said, gesturing towards his laptop that sat on a nearby desk, “are you seriously not seeing the solution here?”

He blinked at you. “What solution?” 

“Track her phone.” 

He recoiled like you just suggested something nefarious. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

“Track. Her. Phone,” you repeated, enunciating every word like he was a particularly dense child. 

“I heard you,” he replied, frustrated. “I just don’t do that anymore.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “Yes, you do! You track me all the time.” 

“That’s different!”

“How is that different?” You threw your hands up. “You literally pinged my location last week because I didn’t answer your call during a Senate session.”

“That’s because you stopped answering me for four hours, and I thought you were dead!”

“I was at a dentist appointment!”

“Well, I didn’t know that at the time!” 

You stared at him for a beat, then gestured towards his laptop again, muttering, “You are so dramatic.”

He exhaled loudly, rubbing his temples. “Look, it’s not that simple. I’d need access to her internal files. It’s a whole thing.”

You tilted your head and gave him the look. The look.

“Don’t you dare give me the look.”

You didn’t blink, your gaze remained unflinching.

“I hate that look.”

Still no blink.

He groaned, defeated. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, getting up to fetch his laptop from the desk. 

“You know,” he added, pulling his laptop over and connecting his phone to it, “you are way too comfortable bossing around a former assassin.”

“Oh, just get to work, Barnes,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you smirked at him. 

There was a beat of silence, broken only by the sound of his fingers flying over his laptop’s keyboard.

Then, more quietly, more sincerely, he said, “I meant what I said earlier.”

You paused. “About what?”

“About you seeing me.” He met your eyes. “It still scares the hell out of me.”

You held his gaze for a long second before saying, gently, “Good. Because that means you’re still human.”

He smiled faintly. “Guess I better start acting like it.” The Next Day Brooklyn City Hall, New York 

You climbed the worn stone steps of Brooklyn’s City Hall, the early morning sun casting long golden shadows across the plaza. The chill of dawn clung to the air, but even after an early flight from D.C., your exhaustion faded and was replaced with anticipation.

Flanking you were a few of the event sponsors who were local business owners, nonprofit reps, and volunteers, each carrying boxes, tote bags, and clipboards as they trailed behind you. A local news van was parked at the curb, the station already broadcasting live segments as reporters flagged down early arrivals to get interviews. 

It had been a long, grueling week filled with late nights, last-minute approvals, a maze of calls and red tape, but somehow, you’d pulled it together. The Veterans Outreach event you’d been organizing was finally happening, and to your astonishment, it looked like everything might actually go according to plan. 

You pushed open the heavy double doors and stepped inside. Then you stopped, momentarily stunned at the sight before you. 

The main lobby of City Hall had been completely transformed. Booths lined the perimeter, draped in patriotic colors and banners offering support and resources for veterans. Each station was already buzzing with activity. Volunteers in matching t-shirts greeted attendees with easy smiles. A local acoustic jazz band played in the far corner, and the aroma of coffee and food truck fare drifted in from the open courtyard doors. 

You let out a long breath, your shoulders finally easing for the first time in days. 

Then, your phone buzzed in your hand, Bucky’s name and photo lighting up the screen. You answered quickly, stepping away from the crows and into a quieter corner of City Hall, tucking a hand over one ear to hear him better. 

“Barnes, this place is packed,” you said, barely containing your excitement. “The booths are full, the sponsors showed up, and even Channel 5’s out front doing coverage.” 

“I figured it would be,” Bucky replied, his voice warm despite the faint roar of wind and engine noise on the other end. “Listen… you’re going to hate me for this, but… I can’t make it.” 

You paused for a beat, then exhaled softly. “I know,” you said gently. “It’s okay. I figured when Mel called you yesterday.” 

There was a beat of silence that followed, filled with the low rumble of Bucky revving his motorcycle. Then—BOOM.

A sudden, deafening crash cracked through the line, followed by screeching tires and the unmistakable crunch of metal. 

“Hold on—” Bucky said abruptly. 

You froze, gripping the phone tightly in your hand. In the background, you heard the sharp click of a shotgun, followed by two loud bangs, then a barrage of gunfire. 

“Bucky?!” you hissed, instinctively glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one could hear you. “Are you out of your mind?! What the hell was that?!”

“Minor inconvenience,” he grunted. More gunshots rang out, his motorcycle revving again. “I’m multitasking.” “Are you being shot at right now?!” 

“No, not me. Hang on, you’re on my comms. Don’t hang up.”

Another crash. A deep, loud, metallic thud followed by the sound of a car door being ripped off its hinges. There was yelling in the distance, then silence, followed by Bucky’s heavy breathing and another round of shots. “Jesus Christ, Barnes,” you muttered, now pacing the quiet hallway like a storm in motion. “Are you seriously calling me mid-fight?” 

“I said I was sorry,” he replied, a bit breathless but still managing to sound maddeningly casual. “I found them. The people Valentina tried to get rid of. Contract workers. Assassins, maybe. Or former ones. Still figuring that part out.” 

“Assassins?! James, what the fuck?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, teetering on the edge of exasperation and just a tiny sliver of admiration. “You’re going to give me gray hairs. I’m going to develop a heart condition by the end—”

“—I’ll make it up to you,” He promised, a low laugh catching in his throat. “I just needed to check in. Make sure you were okay with the outreach and everything.” 

“You’re worried about me when you were just dodging bullets?!” 

“I knew you’d be fine,” he said softly, like a confession. “I think I just… wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your heart squeezed, traitorous and aching. You stood in stunned silence, letting his words settle like dust in a room you hadn’t dared to open. Before you could form a reply, the engine revved again on his end, and another crash thundered through the speaker.  

“I’ll call you back,” he said quickly, his voice clipped with urgency. “Let me just rein in these guys.” 

You sighed, even as the corners of your mouth betrayed you. “Be careful, idiot. And you better call me back.” 

You ended the call and lowered the phone slowly, staring at the darkened screen. An uninvited smile tugged at your lips. You hated how easily he could disarm you, how quickly a few words from him could slip beneath the armor you’d spent a long time perfecting. 

Of course he’d call you mid-fight. Of course he’d say something maddeningly sweet while dodging bullets. And of course, you felt your resolve crumbling all over again. It felt as if you were putting Band-Aids on a rapidly cracking dam. 

You had rules. Boundaries. Reasons. 

This was your job. He was your boss. You’d promised yourself this wouldn’t happen, that you wouldn’t entertain the topic of romance while building your career. You were busy and too focused. There wasn’t room for anything else besides work.

And on top of that, he was reckless, complicated, and always halfway out the door.

You knew better.

Yet here you were, standing in the middle of a quiet hallway with a stupid grin and a pulse that hadn’t calmed down since the call ended. 

You tried so hard to draw a line between you and him. You were supposed to be professional, responsible, even detached, but the truth was, you never meant for it to hold. 

“Boyfriend?” came a voice behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. 

You turned to see one of the younger interns, the one in charge of the event’s social media coverage, peering at you with a knowing grin. “Or was that Congressman Barnes? Are you two finally...?”

You narrowed your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “Get back to work, please.”

The intern laughed and raised her hands in mock surrender before disappearing back toward the courtyard.

You lingered for a moment longer, letting your fingers toy with the edge of your blazer before finally tucking your phone away. The lobby ahead of you was filled with activity, volunteers guiding people, voices over the PA, distant music, but your thoughts were miles away, wrapped around the sound of his voice. 

You walked back to the main lobby, the weight of the morning pressed gently against your chest, and a curve of a smile still tugging at your lips. 

Damn him and damn the way he made you question whether the walls you’d built were really protecting you anymore. 

Maybe it was just keeping something good from getting in.

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if you're silent enough, you can hear me screaming

[1oftherottenones]

Hiyyaaheyhey can i request hyugo x gn reader? Idk any good plots .. mayb hyugo meeting reader for the first time like in the game when u see him on the roof? But instead u team up with him for the project? Idk if that's a good plot enough sorry

💙Hyugo Sugimoto x Reader💙

Reader pronouns: Unspecified

Pairing: Hyugo Sugimoto x GN!Reader

Plot: After a good crying session, this random student decides to threaten your life with a pocket knife! But now he wants to work on a school project with you...? What's up with him?

Word count: 2.1k

Extra: I'm sorry this is so ass. It's more of a warm up for me. It's not as romantic as I wanted it to be, so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy!

Your eyes burned from the amount of times you've rubbed them. God... You felt so dramatic for all that crying... It wasn't even necessarily a big deal, it just felt like one thing after the other and it was finally all crashing down on you.

You rubbed your eyes with your wrist one last time before standing up and taking a small breather. You'd been sitting on the roof to get away from everyone, to get away from life. Just sitting in front of the roof entrance and crying as much as you needed... It felt pathetic but at the same time a little relieving.

You let out a soft sigh, turning to leave and get to your next class. But you paused when you heard the sound of someone's voice around the corner of the roof.

Was someone up here the whole time?? Well that's even more embarrassing... Curiously, you peak around the corner and see a young man who was probably a year or two below you. He had perfectly smooth and pale skin, along with dyed light blue hair that was the color of the sky.

Maybe he was an art student...

He was talking over the phone in a hushed tone. But you couldn't make out the words, it actually seemed like he was speaking a completely different language. A foreign exchange student, perhaps? You've never seen him on campus before but he was wearing a typical uniform.

You then turn away and decided you no longer had any interest in him. Sure, you were nosey, but you couldn't even tell what he was saying.

But as you were about to walk out the door, you felt a strong hand grab your shoulder.

Before you could turn around to meet their gaze, you felt something cold and sharp against your throat, causing you to let out a noise of surprise mixed with fear.

"Who are you?" The man behind you asked in a surprisingly deep and cold tone, the same guy who was just speaking over the phone. "Speak." He then demanded.

You felt your heart quicken and your palms get sweaty. You couldn't even bring yourself to say anything, you were frozen.

"...Not talking, huh? You have the right to remain silent... But in this case I seriously recommend otherwise." His tone was the same cold and deep tone as before. This time his threat was added with the small knife edging into your skin, drawing a tick of blood.

You quickly try and use your elbow to hit him in the gut and catch him off guard, but he seemed to be a few steps ahead of you.

He grabbed your elbow that you desperately tried to jab into him and twisted your whole arm behind your back,

"Ow ow—!" You squeak out, finally you felt like you were out of moves, you give in and spout your name and class you're in out to him. You were unable to hide the panic in your tone.

"Hm?" He suddenly let go of you and you stumble forward, quickly turning on your heel to face him. You were ready to start throwing punches but you were surprised to see ... He wasn't even looking at you!! How rude. He glanced to the ground, tapping his chin in thought, "You're in class 4-B." He repeated. His expression was now soft and almost sweet looking. A drastic change.

You took the chance while he was distracted and pathetically threw a punch his way, but he easily caught your fist with his palm and looked back up at you. You let out a small noise of frustration as he caught your fist so casually.

His expression seemed far less intimidating but you still felt a shiver down your spine as he quickly grabbed your fist and looked you right in the eyes.

"You have such great timing!" He smiled, his smile bright enough to blind you ... This guy seriously had some issues. Threatening you with a knife just to act all happy-go-lucky!?

"...What?" You mutter, your own expression twisting into deep confusion.

"You see... My friend totally ditched me as a partner for my next class ... There's a partner project and since he left me for someone else, I'm kinda stuck on my own." He laughed before continuing, "Anyway, I really need to pass this class! But I can't do the project alone. But we're in the same class! Do you mind helping me out?" He requested with a grin and his hands resting on his hips.

You look him in the eyes with a look of absolute confusion mixed with horror... Who does this guy think he is!? Now he's asking you for favors?! And he didn't even apologize for trying to kill you just now!

"Woah woah! Hold on! You just tried to kill me and now you want my help? You haven't even introduced yourself!" You quickly spouted out, taking a couple steps back as if you were expecting him to attack again.

The man looks at you with a mindless look and just blinked before his face lit up, as if he only just understood your concern. He took a few steps closer to you as you stepped back, no regard for personal space. It would've probably flustered you if he didn't just threaten you.

"Oh! I'm Hyugo Sugimoto! I'm a year above you but I'm retaking a class you have since I missed so many days." He laughed as if failing a class was any laughing matter...! Wait he's a year above you?? His build and face totally suggest otherwise!

"Uhm... Okay... So why the hell did you attack me..??" You then ask, rubbing your arm awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable with this Hyugo guy.

"Oh, this?" He held the pocket knife up with his hand before closing it and pocketing it, "Self defense. The security here isn't all that reliable... Sorry about that!" He explained, still smiling.

You supposed that kind of made sense... But it's not like you were posing any kind of threat or something...

"It's... Fine..." You say, wishing he would take a few steps away from you. "But I don't think I can help you with the project." You said bluntly.

You could help him. But why would you!? Sure he apologized but you had a bad feeling about this guy! Despite his energetic and pretty face.

His expression shifted to look a little more disappointed, he then suddenly grabbed one of your hands with both of his, causing you to flinch a little.

He then, without warning, dropped to his knees,

"Please help me with this! I promise I'll make it up to you! I'm sorry about that whole knife thing, I thought you were spying on me, but I was wrong! I really need your help! Everyone else already has a partner and I always see you by yourself so I was just hoping we could work together! I really need to pass this class! Please please please please please please—"

"Okay okay!!" You yell out, cutting him off. Your face was bright red from embarrassment. Seriously? Getting on his hands and knees and begging to help him!? That was dramatic... "I'll help you... Just get up." You huff.

He immediately popped up to his feet with a grin, still holding onto your hand, "Thanks. I knew you'd help." He winked before you jerked your hand away from him. His hands just proved how soft his skin looked. They were cold but in a calming kind of way.

He gave you a small pat on the shoulder and leaned in, softly whispering in your ear, "Wipe away your tears. Crying doesn't suit people like you." He said with a small, more genuine, smile.

How did he know you were crying just now? Before you could ask any further questions, he was already walking down the stairs to the class you two supposedly shared... How have you never noticed him before? Well... It's not like you could think of a single person in your class. You clearly needed to pay better attention to the people around you.

--------

Hyugo and you made it to your art class, and just like Hyugo said, today was the last day to pick partners for the project.

You sigh, not even wanting to get up and meet with your new partner... 'Luckily' for you, he seemed to already take the courtesy to go up to you instead.

Hyugo stood in front of your desk, putting his hands on the table in front of you, "Let's get started on this project!" He said enthusiastically with his usual smile.

You found it hard to believe this was the same guy that threatened you on the roof...

"Yeah... Let's." You mutter as he takes a seat next to you. The both of you pull out the supplies you may need for this art project and set them down on the table.

"So we need two pieces... What should we do?" You ask, deciding to get his opinion first.

"Hmmm..." He tapped his chin and thought for a moment, "Oh! Let's do portraits. You draw me, I draw you, yeah?" He suggested.

That wasn't a horrible idea ... You figured it would be simple enough but possibly fun.

"You know, you really have the face for it too. I can totally imagine seeing your pretty face in art museums or something."

That was ... Oddly really flattering. "Oh... Thanks." You say, your face turning a little red. "I could say the same for you," you respond. It wasn't really a lie. He was definitely very pretty. You were jealous of how perfect his face was and how wonderfully flowy and soft looking his long hair was.

"Aw, shucks. You're sweet. I knew you were the right person to ask." His tone was a little teasing but still harmless.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, "We should get started." You quickly change the subject, "We can get some quick sketches down of each other for today at least and we can focus more on detail the following days." You say, taking some initiative and deciding you'd draw him first.

"Sure," he agrees, nodding his head. He shifts in his seat as he sees you decide to draw first. He moves in a more flattering angle for the sake of the drawing and holds still.

After a few minutes of you looking between him and the sketch you were working on, you sigh.

This guy talks... A lot... Which was not only distracting, but also causing Hyugo to unintentionally move his head too much.

"Could you please just—" you start before cutting yourself off with a huff.

"Hm?" He tilted his head in confusion at your sudden words.

You gently reach your hands out and grab his face, repositioning his head to be in the correct angle, "Now don't move."

He seemed a little surprised but then smiled, "Ya know, if you wanted to touch me you could've just asked." He said with a teasing tone and laugh.

"Don't ... Say it like that..." You mutter, your face turning red for a third time today from the same guy.

Hyugo squinted his eyes a little, "What? Why?" He asked cluelessly, but you were willing to bet he was just playing dumb. He knew exactly what he was saying...

"Shh. Stop talking too." You shushed him, looking back down at your sketch pad.

He only huffed in response, clearly not happy about you shushing him.

But he was silent for the rest of the time.

Finally you finished the sketch, enough at least to where it wouldn't matter if he started moving again. You gave him the signal that he was good and he immediately leaned over to look at what you drew.

His eyes quickly lit up with sparkles, "Woah! This is seriously good!" He said, seemingly very impressed. "You should let me keep it after it's graded." He said, his gaze going from the sketchbook to your face; only now are you realizing how close his face is to your own... Again, this guy has no sense of personal space!

"What? You want to keep a portrait of yourself? Talk about ego." You said, mostly just joking though and poking back at him since he'd been poking fun at you this whole time.

But instead of getting an amusing reaction out of him, he still seemed totally serious about keeping it, "But you made it. And your art is clearly amazing. I'd like to keep it."

Your smile faded and you felt your heart beat a little faster, but not in the way it did at the roof. It was more... Flustering.

"I mean... Okay... Sure... Only if you let me keep the one you make of me." You bargain, the smile slowly returning to your face.

He grinned, "You've got yourself a deal." He agreed with a wink.

Gosh... His smile, his eyes, that wink... It almost made you forget about your quarrel on the rooftop!

At least you had a much better feeling about doing this project with Hyugo...

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

the x files au where everything is exactly the same except mulder takes home the child neanderthal from the jersey devil episode and raises them as his own

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Aypierre just said his mods will ban any idiots in the chat being stupid about the QSMP situation, lmaooo. Absolutely based, get their asses.

[moe-broey]

Down time...

Just some VERY messy quick doodles. But it's soooo important to me.... bite bite kill kill bite chew gnaw chomp kill maim murder

+ some extra expressions I like enough to post (but please look away this is private........... like you don't really See Anything/it's cropped out, just suggestive LMFAO)

Mostly just bc of Moe tbh. I like how silly it is LMFAO

[non-un-topo]

Kind of obsessed with this nickname actually

[thedreadvampy]

my therapist spent today's session making Faces at me about getting an ADHD diagnosis

which

I can honestly say I have never seriously considered the possibility of seeking an ADHD diagnosis but she might not be a billion miles off

I was describing how I get "fizzy bored" where I have no energy or ability to move and nothing holds my attention but I feel like my bones are trying to vibrate out of me with the desire to be Doing Things and she was like 🤔 and I got onto the fact that I often need to be doing 3-4 things at once to ease into focusing on one and she was like 🤨 and then I mentioned how I find it really difficult to start doing things but once I'm in it I'm super focused and she was like 😌 have you considered the possibility of an ADHD diagnosis?

and so I explained that I don't really see the point because even though, unlike EDS and autism, a diagnosis could suggest an actual treatment, I don't really feel like anything I've described is disabling me cause I have the tools to manage it now most of the time and I feel Fizzy Bored WAY less often these days. and she was like 🤨

and I was like yeah to be fair actually I did use to think that about chronic pain, trauma and having shit eyesight and doing something about them did really change my experience. and she was like 😌 and I was like and actually now we mention it the fact that I sometimes for NO REASON AT ALL simply put off doing things even though they would be really easy to do and I want to do them for LITERAL YEARS is maybe. A thing that it might be nice to change if I could. And she was like 🤔 and I was like OH FUCK I'M GOING TO HAVE TO GENUINELY CONSIDER THIS POSSIBILITY AREN'T I?

anyway after talking a mile a minute and overrunning by 15 minutes I then got a quarter of a mile away on foot and realised I'd left my glasses on her table. she opened the door I went HEY SPEAKING OF ADHD

[ruvviks]

toying with the idea of making yancey's friends not real. would that be too evil

[autumnrory]

woooo my niece took 5 of my 13 lego sets, one of which was one of the three larger ones, so that's one huge box out of the way and i'm just glad she wanted them because like they ARE twenty years old and they look fine ofc but sometimes kids aren't gonna want stuff that isn't new and shiny ya know, but she did seem to want everything which would've been fine with me but i knew there was no way they would take all that with them, and at least i still have stuff of my own to sell, plus should get at least a cut of my brother's stuff for doing the inventory and putting together that stuff that wasn't already done

[wizardlyghost]

i can't keep my silence anymore so i'm gonna say it: i do not get the gale-is-hot hype. like i'm happy for all of y'all but that man loves the sound of his own voice so much. i enjoy him as the annoying talking animal friend but i cannot see the sexual icon that has inspired so much of the fanart i'm sorry.

[four-bastard-bustle]

"You say 'i want to be your girlfriend', but do you want to be my man?" is the singular lyric from my t/ordmatt toxic breakup playlist that drives me the most insane