Summary: There’s a charming man that enters the diner like he owns the place, like he owns the town. And when he’s calling you baby doll, with a devilish smirk on his face and a twinkle of silver in his baby blues, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from falling for the infamous Bucky Barnes.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: And this is it! We’ve followed the road and now we’re at the end. I’ve had a blast writing this series and the comments and reviews that I’ve received have been so inspirational and have kept me motivated! I appreciate that y’all have enjoyed this series so much and I hope y’all will hang around for my upcoming series!
If you could talk, you would. But you found yourself temporarily incapable of speaking a single word as the deep-fried Oreo left your fingers covered in oils and left your throat coated in a warm mixture of butter and chocolate creme. After you downed the last bite of the fatty treat, you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself before looking at Bucky, “God, that should not exist but I’m so glad it does.”
“Ya liked it, huh? I can get ya another one?”
“Nah,” You shook your head at his offer, “You’ve gotten me more than enough food tonight, Bucky. I feel like I’m about ready to explode. You’ll have to hose my guts off the cement.”
At your comment, Bucky couldn’t help the playful grimace that crawled onto his face.
You leaned back further into the small bench that he’d found for the both of you to take a break and relax on. It was questionably small and dirty. The wood was sticky at some parts, and you were more than sure that there were piles of gum stuck to the bottom of the bench. But the soles of your feet were starting to ache and your tummy was starting to feel uncomfortably full. After recalling everything that Bucky had encouraged you to eat, you suddenly remembered watching him devour nearly every food option in the carnival.
“How are you not full?” You asked before looking up at him as he slung his arm over the back of the bench, “You easily ate half your weight in hot dogs and cotton candy tonight.”
“I’m a bottomless pit, I guess,” He shrugged nonchalantly with a crooked smile. He watched you for a few seconds longer before he craned his neck a bit and he looked forward at the rest of the carnival. While he watched with nostalgia as kids ran around with balloons, as rings were tossed over bottles, as the brightly lit carousel turned soothingly, you watched the lines of his neck tattoo shift with his flesh. “Think I used to eat much more when I was younger, believe it or not.”
Now that was new. “Really?”
“Really,” Bucky nodded with a small smile, “I was a, uh, a chubby kid growin’ up.”
“That…to be honest, I can’t really picture that,” You chuckled, giving him a short once-over. “You’re kinda,” You waved at his physique awkwardly.
“I know. Lots ‘o…discipline, doll.” He smiled and you could see the devilish twinkle coming to life in his blue eyes as he leaned in an inch closer. And you had no capacity to doubt his remark, his powerful and strong physique more than enough proof. Hell, if you looked hard enough, you would be more than able to find the exact slopes of his biceps through the fabric of his Henley.
“Where I live, there are a lot of apathetic people. People who don’t care at all about what they do or how they do it. They let the world wash over them and barely notice anyone else is even there. Leslie Knope is not one of these people. She cares about everything and everyone in our town. I don’t know how she does it. People come to her with the pettiest, stupidest problems and she cares, like, really, actually cares what happens to them. And if you’re lucky enough to be her friend, your life gets better every day. She spends every waking moment thinking of new ways to make her friends happy. There is something wonderful about seeing someone who has found her true purpose on Earth. For some people, I guess, that’s being an astronaut or a hot-dog eating champion. For Leslie, her true purpose on Earth, her true meaning is making people’s lives better. That’s what I love about her.”
the Monkey will now answers his own damn questions, jerks.
1. If and when I decide to become a serial killer again. I would choose to use my inter-dimensional transporter to travel to universes where my alternate self is poised to add suffering to that universe. I would then eliminate my alternate self swiftly and as painlessly as possible as to not add suffering to that universe. I will stick to my moral code of not adding to the suffering of the universe as much as humanly possible.
2. My porn name would be Richard Oppenheimer as I would use porn as an opportunity to get my foot into Hollywood and because I probably wouldn’t last long in the porn industry (no pun intended) when it is discovered that I cannot hold an erection for more that 25 seconds and that I climax too easily. Such a shame for such a large appendage. TMI
3. When I win the lottery, I will not cut anyone out of my life. I imagine I would quit my job and finally have the time to put into healing all my relationships with the various individuals and fuck ups in my life.
4. I would be suspicious of anyone who cannot coordinate their wardrobe and accessories. Why would anyone dressed in black carry a brown briefcase? Were brown briefcases on sale? I would think that a black briefcase would be easier and cheaper to acquire. Pink lavender smoke? I hate lavender. Lavender is usually the scent most people have in the aerosol cans next to their toilet so they can mask their horrendous poop odors. Dammit, people. Just light a freaking match! The whole situation is one big bag of NOPE. I would NOT press the button. I would encase the briefcase in concrete and then throw it into a Siberian sinkhole.
5. I would hop into the spacecraft alone hoping that I can use it to either destroy the asteroid or change its trajectory with one last selfless and heroic act. Although I wouldn’t mind seeing humans exterminated, the rest of this planet and its inhabitants are unique, awesome, and should be saved. I would also use the death lasers on the spacecraft to shoot everyone floating towards heaven on my way out.
6. Not taking anyone with me on a suicide mission.
7. Pressed the button. You’re welcome, humanity, you undeserving fucks.
8. In the alternate universe where I let the earth perish and travel to the arachnid planet: I would question the intelligence of any civilization that would worship me as a god but I would stick around and learn everything I could from these technologically advanced creatures. I hate tofu but will subsist on it until my master plan is achieved. I would then use their technology to enhance myself into a superhuman/arachnid cyborg worthy of their worship. I would take their armada of spaceships and we would travel back in time to earth before the Armageddon asteroid hits. We would destroy the asteroid, kill all the floaters, and invade earth. I would then rule with an iron appendage, remove all borders, ban organized religion, and destroy all human weapons of mass destruction. If any two humans can’t figure out their grievances peacefully, then they can both agree to settle their differences via hand-to-hand combat in the dodecahedron of death. The lone survivor will be declared victor, but will then be judged to see whether or not they are fit to rejoin society. I mean, they just killed someone with their bare hands… they’d better come up with a good reason why.
9. In the alternate universe where I travel to the hot dog planet: First of all I would have filled up with fuel before leaving but whatever. Should I find myself stranded on the hot dog planet with no other option than to eat their entire civilization; I would refrain and commit seppuku to uphold my moral code of not adding suffering to the universe, unless completely necessary. Plus hot dogs are poison. Do you have any idea what they put in hot dogs? OMG.
10. In the alternate universe where I consume an entire civilization of sentient hot dogs and am forced to eat the person I had brought with me as a last meal: No ketchup. Only heathens use ketchup on their hot dogs. Where’s the goddamn mustard?! And I guess if had to take someone, anyone, with me… probably Ryan Reynolds since he seems like he’d be an entertaining companion and delicious in the form of a hot dog.
While the boys played soccer, Susannah entered the hot dog eating contest. She scoffed those hot dogs down so fast and didn’t even cough once. I guess when you are eating for two then 10 hot dogs are nothing. ;)
I had to go get my hearing tested the other day, and I don’t think the “speech recognition” figure I get is accurate.
This is because since the age of like 9, I’ve been hearing those words in the hearing tests. Say airplane, hot dog, cowboy, ice cream, toothbrush.
The thing is, I have memorized those words, and not intentionally. So when I can barely make them out, I can guess them. When they throw in a word or two out of the ordinary, I can see her scratch down that I’ve missed it. But if it sounds remotely like hot dog, cowboy, etc, I can easily guess even if I haven’t actually heard it clearly.
So even though my hearing is pretty distorted, my audiologist is always like “wow, it’s amazing how high your word recognition is.”
I think the way it’s tested maybe needs to be changed a little bit. But maybe I’m wrong. It’s not even a big deal, just an observation after years of hearing tests. Anyone else have thoughts?
Summary: Monsters don’t get sick, there’s no real way for viruses to take hold in bone and scales, they more or less slide off with little more than a cough or a sniffle. Sans knows better, though.
Characters: Sans, Papyrus
Word Count: 1797
A/N: Just a shorter little thing I whipped up during a study break, based on that idea that the skelebro’s magic changes color when they aren’t feeling too great. (I believe this awesome idea belongs to @bedsafely , correct me if I’m wrong!) I kinda took it in a strange direction, maybe one day I’ll fix this up idk