Tina Fey, like Liz Lemon (the character she played for seven seasons on 30 Rock), has a strong aversion to revealing her feet. While there’s no public record indicating why, one might assume it has something to do with a botched pedicure sometime in her past. Or maybe, just maybe, she’s been foot-shamed one too many times by an animal. And when pet-icures (I’m so sorry) like the following ones exist, can you really blame her?
1. These two pals who wear pink on Wednesdays.
2. This happy wombat who thinks bitch is the new black, or black is the new bitch?—whatever, she just really loves black.
3. This kitten who is SUCH a flirt.
4. And this one, whose bae caught her sleepin’.
5. This bear who doesn’t want you to see which color he chose because you’ll probably steal it because you’re always doing things like that.
6. This dalmatian who is very meta.
7. This dog who doesn’t know how her life turned out this way.
8. This giraffe whose philosophy is to never look back.
9. This elephant who will never forgive herself for smudging.
10. This Chow Chow who doesn’t GAF.
11. This sloth who you know posts tons of #nomakeup selfies.
12. This adorable lion cub just sayin’ hi.
13. And this bitch.
Primp your own paws with pedicure deals on Lifebooker.
What about a cocky and flirty Bucky but really shy when you flirt back headcanon?
He’d been eye-fucking you all night.
It was something you were used to–one of the hazards of working in a bar filled with drunk men. Though this one was different from the rest. He wasn’t falling off his stool or making lewd gestures towards you. He hadn’t tried to slap your ass as you walked by, or wolf-whistled from across the room. No, this guy had class. His hair was neatly combed back. His face was cleanly shaven. His clothes were clean and fit him nicely.
You weren’t the only one to notice. The other waitresses had vanished to the bathroom at some point during the evening, only to return with freshly applied lipstick, primped hair, and a bit more cleavage than before. With each trip to the restroom, the tension between them grew thicker, and there was an unspoken contest going on of “who’s going to go home with this guy tonight”.
You decided to just stay out of it. You were relatively new to the joint, and you didn’t want to risk getting on anyone’s bad side. So you settled for watching him at a safe distance. And he watched you right back, breaking eye contact only to speak with whichever girl was taking her turn approaching him. It was sort of amusing, really. They all strutted over with their chests puffed out and a confident smile, only to be reduced to a giggling mess within a few minutes of talking to him.
It didn’t take long to learn that his name was Bucky, and that everybody had been too focused on him to bother getting the name of his scrawny companion.
One by one they approached him, and they were all greeted with that same smile that seemed to make his jawline look even better than it already did. And then he’d go back to fucking you hard with those cloudy blue eyes of his. It was getting harder to resist.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was Dolores, who was proudly informing everyone that he’d immediately given her the nickname of “Dot”. You rolled your eyes. Everyone called her Dot.
“And after he called me Dot, he told me that his name was short for Buchanan,” she gushed. You frowned.
“He told me his name was James,” another one of the girls grumbled, offended that she was given a fake name.
“No, James is his first name. Buchanan is his middle name. His friend gave him the nickname Bucky,” Dolores–Dot, continued to brag. “James Buchanan,‘Bucky’ Barnes.”
“What was his friend’s name?” you asked suddenly. Nobody responded. “Really? None of you know? None of you bothered to ask?” Again. No response. You rolled your eyes again. Bucky slipped away from your mind as you began to think of his poor friend. No wonder he’d looked so miserable all night.
Before you knew it, you were marching over to their table. Steve. His name was Steve, and he was even scrawnier up close than he was far away. But he was interrupted by the infamous Bucky.
“I was wondering when you’d come over,” he began. Oh god. His voice. Smooth and velvety and dripping with years of practiced charm. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night. Just ask Steve, here.”
This was the part where the girls turned to mush, and in all honesty, it was a little tricky for you to keep it together, yourself, but you did. It took a lot of willpower. But you did.
“I believe you,” you replied. Your voice was more of a purr than anything else. You didn’t know you were capable of that. “You’re pretty obvious, you know. Tell me, do I look good naked?”
He blinked and choked on his drink a bit. You’d caught him off guard, and god, was it satisfying. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve been undressing me with your eyes all night. So tell me. How do I look? Because I gotta say, from what I’ve seen, you have quite the body.”
“Oh, I…uh…thank you,” he mumbled and shifted around. It was clear that he was frantically looking for something witty to fire back with, but you didn’t expect much from the way his cheeks were turning pink as he nervously ran a hand down his face. It was adorable.
Steve burst into laughter, and borrowed your pen to scribble out a phone number on his napkin. “I think this is what he meant to say,” he grinned and handed it to you.
As you walked off, feeling an incredible sense of victory you heard one last snippet of a conversation.