#banana bread slugs

[thesunoficarus1]

may I present, my top four favourite animals

#look at the sweet boys! #theyre so cute ohmygod #animals #favourites #mecore #personal #zoology #banana bread slugs #anteaters #manatees #corvids #ravens #yes i know this isnt my normal fandom stuff well go back to regularly scheduled programming after this #from my brain™

[rebeccathenaturalist]

I've been threatening to make this meme for months. I like to joke on my tours that the black-spotted Pacific banana slugs (Ariolimax columbianus) are just banana slugs that are extra ripe, and now I've inflicted that Bad Naturalist Joke (TM) on all of you. This one doesn't do much except help people remember that these are banana slugs, but there are others like "sedges have edges, rushes are round, and grasses have nodes from the tip to the ground." (There's a naughty version of that one I don't share with the kids, BTW.) And a few months ago I was gifted a local mnenomic--"potato chips and bacon strips"--to help people tell the difference between the patchy, chip-like bark of Sitka spruce, and the long, grooved bark of western hemlock.

Anyone else have Bad Naturalist Jokes/Puns/rhymes?

#banana slug #banana slugs #bananas #banana bread #jokes #puns #mnenomic #naturalist #nature #animals #invertebrates #slugs #mollusks #gastropods #wildlife #ecology

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Promptober: Day Twenty Three

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 848 words.

The Byers household smelled like cinnamon and banana bread, the whole place warm and quiet, the sounds of the oven humming, Joyce fussing at the sink. She startled when she saw you, scarf still wound around your neck as you set your bag down on the kitchen table.

You smiled sheepishly and apologised, voice soft as if you didn’t want to interrupt the quiet but the older woman waved you away, dried her hands and pushed you a plate of cookies. You took one happily, starving after work as you joined her at the window, the two of you grinning at the sight.

Steve was bundled in a thick sweater, dragging a rake across the Byers’ back yard, collecting leaves of every colour. Dustin and Will trailed behind him, grins on their faces as they watched the pile grow, anticipation written on their features. 

Steve was scowling. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow him,” Joyce smiled, “Jonathan is away for the weekend with Nancy, and well, trying to pull Hop away from work right now is a whole other task in itself.”

You warmed, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal, but in reality, you weren’t sure how to explain that Steve wasn’t really yours to loan out for neighbourly duties. 

But the woman was patting your shoulder and smiling knowingly before pulling out her baking from the oven. “He’s a good boy,” she told you. “Keep a hold of that one.”

You couldn’t help but slip out the back door, wet grass and dead leaves under your boots as you made your way over to Steve. Dustin grinned at the sight of you and Will waved, but nothing beat the way Steve almost stumbled over the rake as he spotted you, face lighting up, eyes softening. 

“Hi,” the boy said quietly, holding out an arm for you to walk into, the hand catching at your waist. It was too tempting to kiss him, to push up onto your toes and press your lips to his cheek, to catch his mouth with yours if you felt brave enough. “How’re you doin’?”

But neither of you were really sure you were allowed to do that, not yet. It had only been one date. So you curled your hand into the front of his sweater, just to hold him to you, just because you wanted to. 

“M’good,” you told him, ignoring the way the two younger boys were smirking and snickering behind you. “S’cold though, you almost done?”

Steve nodded, regretfully letting you go to continue pushing the leaves into the growing pile. “Yeah, yeah, I won’t be much longer. You wanna go for food?”

“Sounds good,” you smiled, happy at the idea of spending more time with him. 

So you sat on the cold steps of the back porch, the sky above turning a navy grey as the threat of another storm rolled in. The grass was still damp from the last downpour, the only colours in the world seemingly coming from the fallen leaves. Red, orange, yellow, rusted and dotted brown in a world that seemed duller than usual. 

The yard became greener as Steve raked, his eyes flitting to yours every now and then like he couldn’t help it, cheeks pink, all flirt as he grinned at the way you hid your smile from you. He was oblivious to the boys tailing him, right at his ankles and he finished pushing the last big bundle of leaves into the corner. 

“I’ll just tell Joyce I’m all done and we can—”

There was a yell, a cackle and thump, and the once neatly raked leaves were back in the air. They painted the grass in colour once more and amongst the pile was Will and Dustin, lying across each other, shaking with laughter. Steve tried really hard not to look mad, but he pressed a finger and thumb to his eyes as you hid your grin in your shoulder. He sighed, heavy.

The boys were still squealing with laughter, crushed leaves in their hair, in their hoods, stuck to the wet of their boots and Will squeaked at the sight of a slug clinging to his jean leg, urging Dustin to get it off of him as they continued to roll around, casting the leaves back across the yard.

“Guys, I swear to god-”

But then Joyce was leaning out the back door, a wry smile on her lips as she waved Steve over and tried to shove a ten dollar bill into his hands. You watched them bicker, a fond look on your face as Steve kept shaking his head, gesturing to the leaves that were still over the grass, the two boys that were spread eagle in the yard.

But Joyce gestured to you and Steve turned pink, hands shoved into his pockets as he tried to suppress his smile as Mrs Byers tried her best to whisper about how he needed to ‘go treat his girl to a hot chocolate.’

And that’s what he did, the rake left in Dustin’s hand and Steve’s in yours.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #upsidedownwithsteve's promptober

[usoppsfattit]

His lovely Centaur

A SanUso FanFic

Usoppaka and Lugyao race each other for who gets,for the last Salmon croquet that Sanzara made.

Sanzara watches the race sitting close by.

Stronami and Rodusa watch from afar, Stronami thinks the races is stupid. Rodusa thinks it's it's cute.

Lugyao is close to the finish but before he can get there- "SLIP!!"

"HEY!! USOPPAKA YOU CHEATER!!" Lugyao sqawks out in frustration.

Usoppaka giggles as he'd had dropped banana peels on the ground by the finish. He prances to the finish with a smug smile.

"Hahaha!, but if course I won. I the great Usoppaka was only destin to win this mere race!"

Sanzara rolls his eyes.

"Here Mon Coeur." He grabs the salmon croquet hands it to Usoppaka, He softly smushes his beak against Usoppaka's cheek.

He crows a giggle with glee.

"Thank you my dear!"

In the blink of an eye Lugyao gobbles the whole thing up.

"Hu- Hey!! Lugyao my croquet!! Nooo, You greedy witless lizard!!" He yells out.

"Sanzaraaaa, my food" He cries out clinging to Sanzara.

"I'll make you make Mon Coeur, You should've expected Lugyao to do that. it's Lugyao we're talking about." Sanzara says as he gently pulls Usoppaka into a hug.

"I know I shouldn't- But still my croquet!" He whines glaring at Lugyao. Lugyao couldn't care less, he Snickers.

"Shishishi, that was soooo good Sanzara,Make more!!" Lugyao orders.

"Alright, Alright you hungry tail-turning slug!" Sanzara scolds sighing.

_________________________________________

As Sanzara stirs and seasons the salmon, adding

green peppers and onions. Then he forms the salmon mixture in a small pattie, dips them in egg wash, after coding all of the croquets into their breading.

He carefully placed all the croquets in the oil one by

one until all of them turn a perfect golden brown.

Sanzara makes sure to save a few for Usoppaka in a

small bag.

knowing Lugyao he'll probably would them all in an second flat including the ones for Usoppaka.

Once he opens the door Lugyao zooms pass him to

the Salmon croquets guffing them down his gullet.

Sanzara walks over to the pouting centaur sitting down beside him.

"Loulou, I made you those croquets you wanted"

He announce with a smile.

Usoppaka beams up eyes shining with delight.

"Oh finally I've been waiting forever." He cries

putting his hand over his head dramatically.

"Yes, Yes I bet You were and I'm so sorry about that, So enjoy Ma Belle~" He teases, gifting the croquets to his loving partner. Usopp cheerfully chomps on his croquet. He's in bliss pure bliss.

"I'm so lucky I have the best boyfriend in the world!!" He loudly praises. In a quick pause Usoppaka finishes his food then plants a BIG affectionate kiss, On Sanzara's beak.

"Oh Amour De Ma Vie I could spend hours on hours telling you how I'm the luckiest kappa on earth if you'd let me." Sanzara gushes the whole heart eyes and everything, with the biggest grin in the world.

His beautiful, amazing, lovely His beautiful, amazing, lovely Partner... His~♡

I hope you liked it!! ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨

#usopp #one piece usopp #op usopp #god usopp #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #op sanji #sanji #sanuso #sanji/usopp #usosan #sanuso fic #one piece #one piece fic #one piece monster au

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

Hey Sun, I know you're not open for questions right now, but I wanted to give you this! It makes little noises and if you have multiple you can pull them a part and change the colors with the other slug, and their nice to fidget with when your stressed. you can pull on this instead of pulling on your rays so you don't hurt yourself, I tend to pull my hair a lot when stressed to this always helps to have a few scattered around the house, plus their perfectly save for the little's to play with!

Also their super cute! And if you don't like slugs they come in different animals, and you can have this little version to use while working!

I hope you feel better soon, we all care about you and want you to be happy!

Sun: *giggles in between handfuls of banana bread* 'Gug!

Moon: You want the slug?

Sun: 'Gug! *takes it in his sticky hands and laughs*

Moon: I think he likes his 'Gug'. I'm sure he'll give you a proper thank you when he's feeling older. And...thanks for looking out for him.

#tsams agere #the sun and moon show agere #lwyd moon #lwyd sun #sun agere #asks #montywithchildhoodtrauma

[teakoodrawz]

[ 💛 || harmless - Last mer AU ]

[ fan engines run. bubbles blowing out to air in the tank. fishes swimming left and right. slugs and crabs. corals and seaweeds. a mer in the large cave sleeps. bubbles popping out as he snores. tail swings. fins twitches. goggles with chains he wears. he scratches his neck as the collar around him locked keeping him in track and his heart rate and how it will electricute him if he tries to hypnotize others with his singing. his lightbulb flow from the water wave. a chewing toy afloats in his cave and other more stuffs he requested and collected right in the corner ]

[ a knock in the tank makes his ear fin twitches. another few knocks makes a tune. the mer yawned and rubbed his eyes. he blinked and smiled. knowing that type of knock. he then stretched and swam out of his cave. seeing a woman about mid 40's waving a him with a smile. long cheesecake-like color ponytail. pink lipgloss with a necklace she wears. a nametag in her labcoat with a clipboard she's holding ]

[ Mark swam close to the glass and waved ] " hi Mark~ did you have a good night sleep~? " [ she asked genuinely. the mer nodded. he spun happily and signed ] ' been great!! ' [ Suzu giggled ] " I see. you seemed happy and slept well~ "

[ Mark hummed. then he hears footsteps clanking at the top of the tank. a man with a bucket of sardines and salmon yelled ] " hey you! breakfast is ready! " [ he dropped all the fishes to the tank as Mark swam up. catches it and starts eating ]

[ Suzu started writing down in her clipboard. nodding. she then looked at him eating all the sardines. she then called ] " hey Mark? perhaps you can try to eat something else? something like other than fish and seaweeds? "

[ the mer stopped and blinked. Suzu added ] " you know dear. it'll help you have interest in other foods too. do you know any other foods? like berries? fruits? bread? pizza or any? "

[ Mark shook his head. unfamiliar with any. all the time he had been eating fishes and seaweeds as his daily meal. he never thought about it. that's almost mostly like his daily life aswell since he grew ]

" wait here, alright~? i'll be right back~ " [ her heels tap as she left the room. Mark hummed when she left ]

[ he did waited. he just floats there in the extra large tank that people made it called his home. as he waited. he got easily bored as he wants to play games right now. he dived down to the sand and starts burying himself in the sand ]

[ he then just started chasing one of his fish friends. he swam and swam until he catches them. it took a while for Suzu. the clocks ticks around 20 minutes. Mark was chewing his toy in his cave as the toy squeaks as he chews ]

[ He yawns. the door slides open as Suzu appears with bowls of fruit salad. she huffed ] " Sorry it took me a while! here. " [ she knelt down and showed him a bowl with various of fruits all sliced and mixed together in it. berries. orange. pineapple. mangos. apples. melons. dragon fruit. banana and more ]

[ the mer swims out of his cave and stares at the bowl of fruit salad. already craving. his mouth opens seems like he's drooling in the water. Suzu chuckled ] " hungry again? I will help you move up from the tank and let you eat it~ "

[ Mark nodded excitedly. Suzu went to the stairs with the bowl and walks to a bridge on top of the tank. she then held a remote where she can control the stoke basket down to the tank. Mark swam up to the litter and lay himself down to it. Suzu pressed the remote to go up and moves it close to her ]

[ she lend out the bowl to him and Mark started picking out some. he starts eating the fruits with two hands to his mouth. his fins twitches happily from the food that he wanted to eat this more often than fish and seaweeds. are there any other food like this? pizza? sandwhich? ice cream? chips and sodas? spaghetti? ]

[ He continued eating on the sweet fruits. this made Suzu smile that he found interest on his new meal ] " eat all of it dear~ it's alright " [ as kind and gentle she is. Mark picked up the bowl and eats the entire salad ]

[ he then gave the bowl back to her hands and chuckled ] " it's good isn't? " [ the mer nodded. he then signed ] ' I love this!! can i have more of these?! i want to eat them for lunch! ' [ the one in a labcoat nodded ] " sure! i will tell the others to makes this your next eating habit. I'll let you try on other meals~ "

[ Mark hummed. excited for the foods he wanted to try more ]

[ later on. the door slided open as a couple of co-workers walked in. with a smaller tank in a cart. they looked to the large tank thinking he's still in his cave. they knocked to get Mark's attention and whistles ] " hey Mark. just checking in. "

[ Mark looked below and hissed. not welcomed to see them. Suzu called ] " what is it? "

[ the crew below looked up to see Suzu with Mark in the stoke basket ] " oh! you already got him! that's great doc! we're here to take Mark to lab room b6. they wanted to check on his scales "

[ Suzu narrowed and frowned ] " already? like- right now? but- can't you just. delay it for a while? "

" can't. they wanted to look up on his features again. "

[ one of Mark feared the most is any of the laboratory rooms and materials. needles and scissors. and many more that confuses him in whatever humans had ever used. they most hurt him because of it. his fins lowered and frowned. he wanted to swim back down to the tank and hide ]

" if you don't bring down the mer the boss will fire you. "

[ Suzu sighed and looked at Mark. frightened. she looked back down ] " just- give us a few more minutes! "

[ she called him ] " hey..it's alright..i know you're scared...but...you needed this okay? i'll be there don't worry. "

[ Mark lowered his eyes and frowned. all he wanted was to hide. get away from everything that's been hurting him. ]

[ Suzu lend out her hand. he didn't want her to get in trouble too. she was so kind and gentle. like a family to him ]

[ he decided to reached his arms to her to pull him out of the stoke basket. Suzu carried him and he weightened that lighter than she expected ]

" don't worry. i'll tell the others to be more gentle with you. okay? i won't let anyone harm you. " [ the mer just nodded. she then started walking down. placed him to a smaller tank in a cart and left ]

#[notepad] #Last Mer AU

[bronzewool]

List of food items I am going to include in Aquarian but offer no explanation if I’m talking about the actual sea creatures or an edible fantasy equivalent.

Fried egg jellyfish

Cauliflower jellyfish

Chocolate Chip Sea Star

Pancake batfish

Garlic Bread Seacumber

Lettuce Sea Slug

Salty Sea Grapes

Orange Peel Doris

Pineapple fish

Banana Wrasse

Tomato Clownfish

Cherry Barb

#personal #I might just become a troll author #who likes to fuck around with their audience #and offer zero context for anything they read

[color-of-magic]

I like my fruits sour.

I bet you didn’t know bananas could be sour, but they are when they are unripe and so green you can hardly peel them.

And I like my oranges sour, little clementines peeled and seeded and underripe and basically a lemon.

And I guess you already know I won’t eat blueberries because it’s too hard to tell the sour from the sweet.

And I like my chicken tenders microwaved, because I like my chicken tenders soggy. Smothered in ranch and hot sauce until the breading falls off in a delicious mush.

And I love my food salted, so heavily it could kill a slug. I like my coke mixed with milk but my foods can never touch on my plate.

I like my things a little gross, a little repulsive, in a way that makes most people cringe.

So I guess it’s no surprise I liked you too

#tyler said a thing #@dolfinn #your kisses were sour but oddly enough I didn’t like that #it was only because you drank though #I never did quite get used to it

[bokubear]

dancing with pregnant s/o p.2

feat. suna rintarou + atsumu miya + sakusa kiyoomi + bokuto kotaro + hinata shoyou

notes ;

my procrastination has taken too long, hope this’ll compensate for the construction loves

^SUNA’S continuous grin caused his face to ache, he didn’t mind. you were clumsily splayed in his arms and might he add—looking like an absolute goddess. it’s like the sun circled around you, framing someone oh so beautiful. he was captivated to say the least. “rinnie, what’re you looking at, shouldn’t you be dipping me ?” you giggled at his lopsided smile, lovestruck. “you’re too pretty baby, i can’t stop staring.” he huffed you to his chest, his heart thundering beneath that sly exterior at just the thought of your little one running around the household, you being a mother. i think this is a fatherly development phase.” — “what in the world are you talking about you dork.”

^ATSUMU wiggled around the apartment like a disoriented slug, gleefully boasting about the atsumu onesie’s he’d found. “look at this-look at it-and if we get them a volleyball pacifier, they’ll be all set !” almost squealing with ultimate satisfaction, the idea of how adorable they’d look making his chest throb. “yeah well no matter how good they look, pray to god they don’t have your dancing skills.” you side-eyed the setter with discouragement. he utterly deflated. “mean !” he helplessly flailed ( adding to the disorientated slug part, except this time he was a walrus ) in a dramatic display. “wait ! i have an amazing idea !” he wagged his finger matter-of-a-fact-ly. a few seconds later returning with a too-small white suit top with a hat and a microphone ( where did he get it from ?) and began singing smooth criminal.. disappointing. but definitely not boring.

^SAKUSA found himself humming to the radio stations often when he cooked, pleasantly surprised when you curled your arms around his torso mid-hum—swaying as you pressed your face to his back. calm. “you sound nice omi.” he chuckled lowly at this, so precious with your bump nudging against him from the angle. he didn’t mind. “i’m flattered love.” the cutting of vegetables and far off melodies falling upon deaf ears, he began swaying a bit too, the chuckling transitioning to a soft laugh that rung nicely in the ears. “uhm-think you’re burning something.” you observed, nose pointed it the air. this was big even fro you considering what a sticker he was. sighing heavily at the heavily burnt banana bread. “all because of you.” he kissed your nose. no, he wasn’t mad at all. a side unlike him, you loved it.

^BOKUTO listened to doja cat far too often for his own good. his most played for 2021 was 99% doja cat. it was a crisis for both you and the baby growing inside you. he just .. vibes out. it was mortifying and cute at the same time. no inbetween. “we can play say so though !” he carefully pointed out, the lyrics conspicuously appearing on screen. “i don’t mind the cursing .. it’s just the overall idea is a bit much ..” you clicked your tongue, pointing out the suggestive portions with a raised brow. surely no hope. the ace already saying absolutely no to the kidz bop version, explaining that it wasn’t “original.” you didn’t blame him on that part. he tumbled around the furniture to woman—quoting the exact lyrics perfectly. trying very hard to be convincing. “fine. but only ones that are okay, and you know what i mean.”

^HINATA scrolled along his phone, bopping his head to old songs that flitted on spotify randomly. “how do you even know this one sho ?” even you recognized it, not the lyrics but just the age .. it was somewhat interesting. “i listen to them when i train, keeps me in check.” — “that’s pretty admirable y’know.” — “is it ?” he sheepishly chortled, the quiet mumbling persisting. “the guy who sang this one is really good at tap dancing.” he added, sparing a glance your way as you leaned your head to his shoulder. “tap-dancing ? that’s random.” you implied, huffing a sigh. “tired baby ?” he brushed a piece of hair from your face. “not really .. this little one is taking its toll. but i do wanna try tap-dancing now.” — “you sure ?” he lifted up, holding out his hands. rest assured you managed to learn a few moves. and something new about shoyou as well. he can tap-dance pretty well.

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

#hqxreader #haikyuuxreader #hq #maakwrites. #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #hinata shoyou #hinata x reader #hinata fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna fluff

[divine-mistake]

bitter fruit

Summary: “The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”

“Because you were going to die.”

Characters: Bucky Barnes/(f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut (oral fem receiving, Bucky is a slut for consent), language, graphic depictions of violence, blood

Word Count: 9338

A/N: This is a tumblr request for @buckybarnes101 who requested an enemies to lovers with eventual smut and I got so so carried away with this request and ended up writing this 9k chonker! (5k of it is smut so, carry on) HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! Enjoy!!

main masterlist | AO3

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you snap, “maybe about saving all the innocent people that’ve been trapped in HYDRA’s basement for god knows how long?”

Bucky snarls at you, grabbing the front of your tac-suit and pulling you up until your nose is inches from his. A striking pain shoots through your side like a bullet, which is funny, considering the hole he stitched up for you what seemed like seconds ago.

But just like your relationship, numb one second and blazing the next, it’s like some switch has flipped in his brain in a matter of minutes.

You should really give him some more credit—the man describes his brain as spaghetti most days. And as funny as it sounds, it really isn’t. You’re keenly aware of the haunted look that fills his eyes when he struggles with his past.

Except when he acts like this, it’s hard to remember that.

Something smells of smoke and gunpowder. People are screaming. The men who just ran through the door are shouting in Russian, you know, because you’ve heard the same language from Bucky’s mouth when he’s having nightmares. Faintly, you realize there’s a pain just above your hip. You don’t have time to look. The gun is in your hands and you’re firing. Someone—innocent, crying—bumps into you as they flee the scene. Your shot goes wide.

Bucky’s voice crackles over the comms. “Where are you?” He sounds panicked.

“Got held up,” you respond. “I’m on my way. Civilians headed to you.”

He curses your name. “I told you to get back to the jet!”

The butt of an assault rifle is hurtling toward you and you duck, rolling across the dirty concrete. The pain in your side flares up, burning. You think you might’ve gotten shot. You return the favor, killing two more HYDRA agents.

“I took a detour.”

A moment to breathe. Your eyes roam over the cells that you uncovered in the base, checking for any signs of life you previously missed. It’s all dead bodies and blood. You’re starting to feel weak.

“Get back to the fucking jet, agent! The base is rigged to blow!”

Before you can reply, someone grabs you by the hair, the muzzle of a gun pressed into your neck. On reflex and instinct alone, you thrust your elbow into his side and disarm him just in time. The gun goes off, bullet lodging in the concrete. Fucking slug would’ve ripped right through you.

“Bit busy,” you reply to Bucky.

Your name is lost to the sound of you firing the last few rounds into your attacker. When you’re sure he’s dead, you slump to the wet floor, knees unable to hold you any longer. The pain in your side is killing you—probably literally. A gasp escapes you when you press your fingers to the wound, trying to staunch the blood from the bullet hole, but at this point, you guess it doesn’t matter. The base is going to go up in flames in a few more minutes and you don’t have the strength to get back to the quinjet.

And really, you don’t want to. Bucky’s gonna be pissed.

“Hey, Barnes,” you wheeze through the comms. He doesn’t reply. “You know how you got all pissy at Sam when he ate your last loaf of that banana bread, and you put all those laxatives in his brownies and he was shitting for like, days? Yeah, that was me. I ate your banana bread.”

He never replies, but you chuckle all the way until you fall asleep, cheek pressed into a pool of someone’s blood.

He says your name now, catching your attention again, and when you roll your eyes at him he shakes you again. With a hiss of pain, you try and shove him away from you, but his dumb super soldier ass is too heavy.

“That hurts!”

“Good!” Bucky finally lets you go and you slump against your seat, wincing. “Maybe the pain will make you stop being so fucking reckless! You defied a direct order from your captain. You could have died.”

“Maybe I should have,” you mutter back, not looking at him.

“I should be so lucky,” he seethes. “If I hadn’t gone back for your dumbass, your body wouldn’t have even been recovered. You would have rotted in that damn HYDRA base. Is that what you want?”

You snort. “Ain’t like I got a family who wants my ashes.”

Bucky throws up his hands, exasperated, and then decides to pace up and down the aisle of the jet. He doesn’t look at you, and you only sneak glances at the rage painting his face when you’re sure he isn’t going to see you staring. He looks just as worn as you, the sole sleeve of his tac-suit bloody and ripped up, charred remains and soot skimming his boots where he’s tied the laces tight. Sweat-matted and probably dried with blood, his hair is falling in chunks from the bun he usually keeps it in for missions now, and he has to brush it out of his face every few paces he takes.

In another phrase, Bucky is fucking hot right now.

Maybe death would have been tragic, you muse, since you wouldn’t get to see the absolute specimen of your partner anymore.

For as much as you two hate each other, you can’t deny how gorgeous he is. Ripped to match the gods, carefully trimmed beard only a little more bristled than the one Steve sports these days, and god, the man wears a sweater like it’s Armani.

When you blink, you realize he’s looking at you, and your face flushes. It isn’t the first time he’s caught you staring at him hungrily, you’re sure, but most of the time he gets this stupid smug look on his face, lips wide in a smirk, and sometimes he’ll even throw you a flirty little line that has you gnashing your teeth and snapping at him to fuck off.

But this time, he’s so angry that he just stares at you, eyes narrowed in a glare.

“When we get back,” he says, nostrils flaring, “I’m benching you.”

“What?” you cry out, eyes wide. “Why the fuck—who the—who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Your captain!” he roars, and you almost swear the whole jet shakes with his fury. “You disobeyed my direct order to retreat to the jet and instead you almost cost us both our lives. Why the fuck shouldn’t I bench you?”

“I didn’t ask you to come save me!” you shout back, trying to stand from your seat. Almost immediately, Bucky shoves you back down.

“Not only am I your captain for this mission, but I’m your partner. I’m responsible for you. What, you just expect me to leave you behind?”

“The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”

“Because you were going to die.”

The way that Bucky is looking at you right now steals all your breath away, steals all the fight you feel in your bones. You watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way the vein in his neck jumps, the way he holds his jaw tight. His eyes, a blaze of blue, are looking at you like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve right in front of him, leaving behind a body bag of skin and bones and teeth. That’s all you are, maybe.

“Stay with me,” he says, voice so close to your ear. “Please, just stay with me, doll.”

It’s all hazy. The world is black. You can’t open your eyes, they’re so heavy. Your body hurts so bad, so fucking bad. Someone is jostling you and it hurts so bad and you just want to open your mouth and scream.

“You’re okay.” It’s Bucky, you realize in some vague fog of a dream. “You’re going to be okay, I’ve got you.”

Your leg feels like it’s on fire. The air smells like the fourth of July, all fire and gunpowder and barbeque. Burnt flesh. It’s hot and thick, the smoke you’re breathing in.

“I have so much to tell you,” he whispers, maybe. Or maybe that’s just how it sounds in your mind. “So much to say to you. So much to apologize for. I need to tell you something. You told me about that dumb fucking banana bread. I have something I gotta tell you, doll.”

What? What does he have to tell you? You want to ask but your throat is so dry and your lips are glued together.

You want to tell him you aren’t dying, and god, he’s being so dramatic. But you can’t, because you might actually be dying.

Instead, you try so so so hard to open your eyes, and a sliver of light invades your vision, and even with the way your eyelids shudder, you can see Bucky’s face. Just a little bit. He’s covered in blood, you think.

Oh, but his eyes. Fuck, you love his eyes. Thank god you opened yours so you could stare at his eyes before you go to sleep again. So blue. So deep. So icy and sad and hurt and beautiful.

“Please,” he says, and you swear it’s the only time he’s ever begged you for anything.

Of course, you tell yourself before your eyes close again.  I’d do anything for you.

“Why do you care?” you whisper, and he blanches, because you swear his damned super soldier hearing can even hear your thoughts.

But fuck it, you’re young, wild, and free, and you’re alive now too, so fuck it.

“Why do you care?” you repeat, louder this time, very clearly addressing him. “Why do you care so much if I die? You’ve hated me since the day you met me,” you spit the words out like poison.

Bucky turns away, gaze trained on something other than you and your bloodied tac-suit.

“We’ve always fought about this,” you continue. “This isn’t anything new, Barnes. You knew I’d go down to save those people. You knew I’d risk my life to get them out. You know this and you still fucking went after me. So why?”

The silence eats at every edge you have until it consumes you, and Bucky never replies.

You watch him walk away, toward the cockpit, and you don’t have the energy to follow him and finish the fight.

“Get it through your pretty little head before you go on a mission and get yourself killed, doll.” Bucky’s smirk sends a shiver through you and you aren’t sure if it's anger or arousal. You bite down on your tongue to keep from lashing out. “You can’t save everyone.”

“Bullshit,” you say before you realize. Bucky’s eyes go wide. “I took this job because I have the ability to save people, so I’m going to save everyone.”

His mouth opens but you cut him off.

“I don’t care if you can’t save everyone, but me?” Your finger is braced against his hard chest and he doesn’t recoil. “I’ll save everyone or I’ll die trying.”

“Hey,” Steve says, trying to move between you two, but you barely notice his presence.

“You’re stupid,” Bucky hisses.

You smirk. “You’re not as skilled as you think you are.”

“Shut up,” he snarls.

“Make me,” you snap back.

“Guys,” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Meet me in the ring.” Bucky’s eyes are glaring down at you, heated. “Let’s see if you can handle me, doll.”

“Buck!” Steve’s hand falls on Bucky’s shoulder, working to hold him back from stalking off to the gym. But Bucky shrugs him off.

“Back off, Steve.” He looks over his shoulder at you as if daring you to follow.

And, fuck, you’ve never backed down from a challenge in your entire life, so you follow him all the way to the training room, watching the way his muscles strain through his tight t-shirt the whole way.

He’s kind enough to hold the ropes up so you can duck under easier, but you roll your eyes and leverage your foot against the spring and tuck your legs underneath you to jump the top rope easily. You throw him the same look that he did, a coy gaze over your shoulder, and then you beckon him forward.

His nostrils flare and you wonder what he’d look like on top of you in bed.

“Wrap your hands, for god’s sake,” Steve shouts, but you ignore him in favor of cracking your knuckles for good measure.

“I’m not planning on getting mine bloody,” you tell him, and Bucky laughs brusk.

“You should plan on losing,” he says, smirking.

With a twist of your jaw, you crack your neck. “Not planning on that, either.”

Like big cats, the two of you circle each other, toes so light the mat makes no noise. Bucky’s eyes are focused, narrowed, and beautiful like this, you think. He’s calculating every single movement you’re making and it sends a heat down to your core. This is all just foreplay to you.

Until he charges, and then it’s on. You’re a flurry of limbs, defensive stances and blocks. Bucky is unrelenting and the fucker is fast for his size. He never uses his metal arm to attack, but the manic whirr and click of it as he moves is alarming. There’s a window of opportunity when Bucky overshoots a right hook and you duck underneath his arm, and you’re able to get behind him and kick him the back of his knee. He falters for not even a second and then it’s back on.

It’s a dance, weaving between limbs and twirling kicks aimed at his head. You struggle to figure out how to take him down—he’s so big, like a fucking brick wall. There’s very little chance you can flip him. You’re going to have to try and get him in a hold, but there’s no way he’s going to allow you to do that.

But maybe you can bait him. You go on the attack now, whiffing a couple of good punches and sending a straight kick right at his jaw that he barely dodges. While you’re recovering, before your foot is even planted back on the mat, Bucky does exactly what you want him to do. He slides up with a fist and you feign a misstep, ducking right. His follow-through is too heavy and you grab his wrist, locking it in your grasp, and then your heel goes straight into his abdomen, right under his center of gravity.

He goes down and you relish in the moment his eyes blow wide with the shock of being caught off guard. You scramble on top of him but he rocks his hips up and starts to roll you both until you’re underneath him. In retaliation, you lock one foot around his calf and use your other knee to jab his stomach, and then you roll him underneath you instead. Your forearm presses against his neck, legs squeezing his middle.

God, he’s fucking pretty, his blue eyes all big and pants falling out of his pink lips. Sweat is dripping from his hairline and rolling off the bridge of his nose and it pleases you, the fact that you made Bucky Barnes bust his ass in a fight. You know you have to look like a drowned dog by now, so how the fuck is he still so pretty? For that, you press down on his throat harder until he taps the mat—a yield.

Immediately you’re off him, panting as you lean against the ropes, but a shit-eating grin is plastered on your face. Bucky looks anywhere but you, wiping his damp face on his shirt, which gives you the most perfect flash of his carved abs.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “we can agree to disagree, right?”

He stares at you for a hard moment, a longer moment than he has before, and you swallow as desire crawls up your spine. Then, Bucky ducks under the ropes, grabs his towel, and gets the hell out of dodge.

“Fuck you too, Barnes!” you shout, and you know he must’ve heard you.

He helps you walk off the quinjet and you hate literally every second of every moment that you have to have his arm wrapped around your waist. Mostly because you’re pissed at him and you hate being babied, but also because god, you can imagine Bucky holding you like this in a different context way better than you should be able to.

Those thoughts are the demons in your brain and you need someone to exorcise you. Probably Natasha. No, Natasha will make fun of you. Wanda, then.

As soon as you’re out of the hangar, Bucky asks FRIDAY if there’s anyone in the medbay, and your neck about snaps in half from how fast you turn.

“No,” you say. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to medical.”

He cuts you a glare. “As if you have a say in it.”

“I do have a say! It’s my body! This is the twenty-first century, Barnes. My body, my choice!”

“You’re injured,” he grits through his teeth. “We’re going to medbay.”

“I don’t need to go!” You start dragging your heels, trying to make yourself heavier, but Bucky is a super soldier and probably throws mack trucks for a living or something. “You stitched me up! The burns aren’t that bad, either. I’m fine, I’m not going to medical.”

“God, can you ever give me a break?” he groans. “Why are you always so fucking difficult?”

“I’m not being difficult!” you snarl, trying to push away from him, but his grip tightens. “Why the fuck do you care so much?”

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, maybe I am, since I don’t know why the fuck you give two shits about saving my quote-unquote dumbass who almost got us both killed, and I don’t know why the fuck you care about getting me to medical when you’re gonna bench me anyway! Right, thanks a lot Barnes, I’m so stupid for not fucking figuring it out!”

“You are!” he roars, and then your back is against the wall, his hand cushioning your head from hitting it. He corners you there, covering your body with his, ducking down so your mouths are so close you would only need to reach up a little to kiss him, and god, that’s tempting.

Not tempting enough when you’re this pissed off, though.

“So that’s what it is, huh? You just think I’m some stupid, incapable little girl who is so impractical because all she wants to do is save lives? You think I’m so stupid that I don’t know that people are going to die? And they’re going to die because I can’t save them? Maybe you should think about how I could never live with myself if I didn’t do everything possible to save them, so I risk my life to get them to safety. I would never ever risk yours, you stupid, arrogant, ignorant—”

Oh, Jesus.

His lips are hot when they crash against yours, pinning you between him and the wall. It’s desperate, the kind of kiss you’ve never had before. It’s so desperate and you want to pull away and ask him, Bucky, what are you so desperate for? He kisses you like he wants to keep you, his mouth swallowing yours like he can’t get enough of you. It’s hungry and begging and you don’t ever want it to stop, your teeth nipping blood from his bottom lip as if it’ll stop him from leaving, but he pulls away, leaving you breathless anyway.

“You’re stupid,” he repeats again and you watch his tongue dart out to taste the blood you’ve ripped from his skin. It sends a thrill of pleasure through you. “You’re so stupid.”

And he kisses you again and you decide that sure, maybe you’re stupid, you’ll be stupid all day long because he’s going to kiss you stupid.

It’s your hands that move first, you realize in some random corner of your mind. Your fingers twine in his brown locks, tugging the hair tie away and flinging it somewhere. Vaguely, you realize you’re still in the middle of the hallway, on the way to the elevator, but you don’t give a shit. The hand that isn’t twisting Bucky’s scalp finds the material of his tac-suit and starts pulling at all the straps and buckles, searching for a sliver of his hot skin in any capacity.

His own hand, the one not holding the back of your head, skims over your waist and flutters down your uninjured hip, grasping at the flesh underneath your suit. Suddenly, you’re overcome with the need to get these fucking clothes off, and immediately, and you break the kiss so you can suck down air and ask the man you’ve been hating, been pining after, to take you to bed.

As you do, Bucky trails a hot path of sloppy kisses down your chin, over your jaw, against your neck, until he finds the juncture of your shoulder and attaches his teeth there, nibbling on a patch of skin that is so distracting you forget about your question for a minute. And then your fingers run over a rough spot on his suit and you remember.

“Bucky,” you gasp out, and it sounds so heady that you nearly throw your head back. “Bucky,” you repeat, more urgently, when he doesn’t let up, your hand is tightening on his sleeve and tugging on it.

His head snaps up now, eyes piercing yours, concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asks, moving your hair away from your face to look closer at you.

“Bed,” you rasp out, but barely. “Now, please.”

He doesn’t move for a second, just staring at you like he’s scared, like he’s surprised you would ask. You see his eyes sort of glaze over, a reminder of the nightmares he’s seen, the nightmares he replays over and over in his head, but you’re selfish and your core is pulsing with a heat you’ve never felt this hot before and you need him here, not wherever his mind is taking him.

“Please, Bucky,” you say, and he blinks, and then he’s present again.

“Anything for you, doll,” he whispers, and your legs nearly collapse beneath you at the thought. Bucky scoops you into his arms carefully, trying not to jostle your wound too much, and then he sweeps you into the elevator and you’re speeding toward his room and hoping to god that Steve isn’t prowling around.

In a haze of kissing and excitement, you barely recognize that Bucky’s opening his door until it’s closed behind you and he’s walking you through his room and to his bed.

God, you’ve wanted to be in his bed for so fucking long.

He drops you among the sheets gently, so starkly different from the harsh tone of his voice only a few minutes earlier when he was yelling at you, and you’re not sure what you like better. You want Bucky to fuck you, to rip you in half and put you back together like he always does. But you want him, so badly, to make love to you just as much, but you’d never admit that to him.

Bucky’s kissing you so sweetly now, and then his kisses get more forceful, more needy, and you suck on his tongue until he’s panting above you. His hands are everywhere, sliding over your suit, unstrapping and unzipping and unbuckling all your gear, and your hands fumble in tune with his, trying to help him get you out of your clothes.

Just before he takes off your vest, he kisses you and asks, “Is this okay?”

You rip the vest off yourself, sitting up on your elbows to rip your undershirt off with it, leaving you in a black sports bra.

And you revel in the way Bucky stares at this new flesh. His lips find your sweaty skin, covering every inch that’s been revealed now as your fingers start taking his tac-suit apart the way he did yours. Soon, you’re frustrated, and you whine and pull at it until he huffs a laugh and takes it off himself. His vest gets thrown to the side and his tank top follows, leaving him bare-chested.

Your fingers are shaky as they touch his tanned skin and you almost laugh at how nervous you are. You’ve spent so long looking at him, hating him, wanting him, and now you have this stretch of his wide chest in front of you and all you can do is let your fingertips glide over him, mouth parted, eyes hazy.

His pupils are blown wide, too, and Bucky takes your hand in his and presses it against him harder, and suddenly you’re feral.

Your hands slide over every part of him, taking in the expanse of him. His biceps, his strong shoulders, the hard planes of his body. As gentle as possible, you trail your fingers closer and closer to the scar where metal meets flesh, and you glance up at him, a silent question, and when he gives you the smallest nod, you smooth over the gnarled rift of skin. You don’t ask if it hurts. He gives no indication that it does. And when you reach up to press a soft kiss to it, he shudders above you.

“Please,” he whispers, so quietly. “Let me touch you, doll.”

You lay back and start to unstrap your holsters, gesturing for Bucky to help you with your pants. He unlaces your boots for you as you throw your weapons to the ground, the clink of belts and buckles mingling in the silence, a song that ignites the excitement inside of you.

Your core is molten lava, the apex of your thighs dripping and Bucky hasn’t even touched the most intimate parts of you yet. Every single fiber of your being is trembling in anticipation, and in your hurry to strip your pants off, a twinge of pain shoots through you as you bend the wrong way, stitches pulling.

Bucky curses—like he’s the one who’s hurt you and you aren’t the idiot trying to rip her pants off—and just like he can flip the switch on his attitude, he flips the switch on this, too. He’s off of you before you realize, sitting back on his haunches, staring down at you in panic.

“I’m—Baby,” he breathes, voice shaking. “I'm sorry.”

His hands are outstretched, reaching for you, trembling as he swallows hard. You watch as his eyes shift in the space between your face and the white gauze wrapped around the bullet wound in your side.

“Bucky,” you hiss and grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him down. He doesn’t budge, not much at least, but you meet him the rest of the way and your lips collide with his in a thunderous crash, and like instinct, he kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Doll,” he mumbles against your mouth and you drink the word from his tongue, distracting him. “We can’t.”

“We can,” you growl back, teeth reminding him of the pulsing ache between your thighs. In search of more, your hips roll up and meet his own, causing a groan to tumble out of his mouth into your own.

Fuck the pain—you’ll grit your teeth and bear it. This is the only moment you’ll ever have him, and by god, you need him.

Your hands return to your pants. “Help me,” you plead, breathless, unable to shimmy out of them. Bucky’s already pulled your boots off, socks coming with them, and his fingers find the heated flesh right beneath your waistband.

“Are you sure?”

All you can do is whine his name until he understands, and then Bucky is peeling your black pants from your legs, the rush of cool air rolling over your hot skin feeling almost as good as his hands are going to feel if he’ll just put them on you.

When his palms finally fall upon your thighs, rough and calloused and big and warm, you need much more, so much more. The way he trails his fingers down your knees, caressing your calves, brushing atop your ankle, and then coming back up to have his thumbs follow the ridge of muscles in your thighs, it all makes you shiver in pleasure. You’re so hot, sweat pooling in the small of your back against the bed, the dampness of your core becoming harder to ignore.

You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the ache and Bucky notices—of course he notices—and his mouth finds your neck again, sucking until dark bruises begin to mar your skin, until you’re bowing off the bed, arching toward him, trying to get something, anything. Anything from him.

At some point, you realize he’s just torturing you on purpose, letting his hands roam the stretch of your stomach, smooth over the hills of your hips, and then draw down your legs until you’re shaking as he kisses you so softly, and then so roughly, like he can’t decide if he wants to grow old with you or if he wants to ruin you for whoever comes after him.

You sit up and reach around, fingers intent on unclasping your bra, but Bucky stops you with a nip at your bottom lip.

“Will you let me?” he asks, so sweetly. Bucky’s hand finds yours and bats them away, his fingers on the hooks as he waits for your answer.

“Yes,” you moan as his other hand tickles down the curve of your side. “God, please, yes.”

“Bucky,” he says, smirking against the side of your neck.

“Shut up and undress me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, when you ask so sweet like that, baby.”

With a quiet click, your bra comes undone and Bucky pulls it away from your body, and then your breasts are bare before his eyes. Now, it’s your turn to be doused in ice, to freeze, for the switch to flip.

You feel shy beneath his gaze, the way he looks at your nearly naked body with such reverence, as though this is the moment he’s been waiting for. Your knees close and your elbows draw in over your chest without your permission. It’s not like you want to hide from him, but he looks so perfect atop you, so beautiful in every single facet, better than any dream you’ve ever had of him, and you can’t stop yourself.

What have the other girls looked like underneath him? Better than you, surely. Prettier, skinnier, smaller, sexier. For fuck’s sake, you’ve got a nasty burn on the side of your leg and were shot through your left side only a few hours ago, your middle wrapped in medical tape. You can’t be that pretty a picture.

You’ve had your shot at him and you’re gonna lose it.

But when you look up, Bucky’s looking at you like you’re everything. His face is flushed, red creeping down his neck, and his eyes are soft, hazy, glassy. Gently, his fingers find your jaw and cup your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“Let me look at you, baby.” His voice is almost as rough as the worn skin of his hand, dry and gravelly and thick with lust. When Bucky moves to grasp your wrists, you let your eyes flutter closed and nod, allowing him to peel your arms away from where they hide you, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes.

“God,” his voice shudders. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. I couldn’t have dreamed you up if I tried, and I promise you, I tried.”

Your eyes fly open at this. “What?”

If it bothers him, he doesn’t act like it. Bucky leans down to nuzzle his nose against your collarbone, kissing and licking your skin like he’s making constellations out of your body—bruises connected only by his tongue.

“I’ve thought about this since the day you kicked my ass in the ring.” He sounds like he’s reciting a prayer, all whispered desires. “Your perfect lips, what they’d feel like, how soft they are. If you’d touch my scars, and how your fingers would feel on them all if you did.”

His mouth closes over the mound of your breast, the clash of tongue and teeth upon your nipple forcing you to arch into him in pleasure. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and you aren’t quite aware that you’re even whining until his free hand crawls up from your hip and cups your other breast, thumb strumming over your peaked nipple. The breathy moans that pour from your mouth fill the room and only seem to make Bucky work faster, work harder, as he drags every drop of pleasure out of you with every instrument he has. Your hips buck up and into his, your thinly-clothed core catching the tent in his pants—his tac-suit, you realize, is still on—and it makes you both groan in a symphony of need.

“Need you,” you somehow manage to get out between your heavy panting, hips still searching for something to relieve the ache in your center. “Bucky, please.”

He releases your nipple from his lips, the chill assaulting the wet bud making you bow from the bed once again. Bucky places a kiss on the other, letting his tongue lave over it until it's just as wet and hard.

“I imagined what you’d sound like,” he says against your stomach, punctuating his words with a smattering of kisses across your skin. “Thought about what you’d—fuck, baby—I thought so much about how you’d look beneath me all spread out, just for me.”

The sound you make in reply is almost embarrassing as how soaked your panties are.

“Wondered how you’d taste.” He lets his tongue drag across the hem of your underwear and you press up, trying to get his mouth closer, but his hands settle on your hips and gently hold you to the bed.

“Bucky!” you try and growl, but it comes out an octave too high. “Please!”

“What is it, babydoll?” His fingers curl underneath, thumbs riding the line of skin just beneath your panties.

“I need you!” You throw your head back against the pillow. “I’ve thought about it too,” you admit, breathing hard. “How you’d touch me like this, how you’d feel inside me, please, so please just—I need you, Bucky.”

“You got me, baby,” he says and it sounds so fucking beautiful. “I’m right here. I got you, doll. Gonna take care of you, okay? Will you let me give you what you need?”

You answer by trying to press your hips up again, and Bucky shifts until his hands are cupping your ass and he drags you down the bed, closer to him, closer to his own hips where you can feel the bulge of his cock begging to be released.

“Your pants,” you remind him, wrapping your uninjured leg around the back of his thigh. “I want to feel you, please, Bucky.”

“Okay, doll,” he says, laying a kiss just above your panty line again, and then he’s pulling away and you whine despite it.

You listen as Bucky fiddles with his gear, going through the same motions as you had to go through earlier. The clink of his knives, the buckles of his holsters, the heavy soles of his boots as he throws them off. When you sit up, Bucky is standing in his black boxers, the faint light streaming into his room highlighting the shine of the scars that cover his body.

He looks as breathless, as flustered, as aroused as you feel. His hair is mussed from your hands, falling over his shoulder in the thick waves that feel so soft between your fingers. The lust is evident in the way his eyes roam over your body, his pupils blown wide, and then he’s moving toward you and fitting himself between your legs on the bed.

Bucky slides his hands over your heated skin yet again, a reminder of how much he wants you, how much he loves the feel of you, before his fingers hook inside your panties and begin to pull them down. Before he gets too far, he stops again, gaze flicking up to meet yours.

“Is this alright?” he asks.

You nod, lifting your hips as carefully as possible in order to keep from jostling your wound, and Bucky slips the last piece of clothing from your body. You hope, fucking christ you hope, he doesn’t realize how soaked they are when he peels them off, but maybe that’s a lost cause.

Because as soon as you’re naked, your glistening core bare to his eyes alone, all bets are off. There are no more barriers, nothing for you to hide behind, no sharp words to keep your feelings at bay.

His fingers skim over your lips, collecting all the honey you’ve made for him as his knees widen to spread your thighs. The simple movement has your hips rolling already in search of more, whimpers falling from your mouth as Bucky stares at your naked form beneath him. Eyes lidded, you watch as he brings his fingers, wet with your juices, up to his mouth.

“Shit, doll,” he curses. Bucky’s tongue envelops his digits and he groans at the taste, sending shocks like a fucking earthquake through your body, through your bones, straight to your core.

He moves closer to you, sliding your thighs onto his shoulder and locking his metal arm around the top of your hips, far enough away from your wound that it doesn’t hurt. Bucky peppers kisses along your inner thighs, biting and sucking in intervals that has you pressing your mound to him, begging for more.

“You taste so good,” he mumbles, breath ghosting over your quivering pussy, pulling a wanton whine from your throat. “Will you let me taste you, baby?”

“God, yes, please Bucky,  please, I need it so bad.” The words are frantic, strangled, a mess of moans of breathless gasping.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

And then his mouth is on you, hot and slick upon hot and slick, his tongue parting the valley of your lips and delving into your dripping center like he’s a man starved and you’re the first meal he’s tasted in years. You keen in pleasure, thrashing your head against the pillows until your hair is a tangled mess as Bucky’s tongue flattens on your clit, licking a wide path until it’s well-traveled and your hips stutter, held back only by the cooled metal on your heated skin. Your hands find purchase in his hair, fingers tugging at his scalp, and the motion makes him groan into you.

You call his name like it’s the only word you know, chanting it over and over like it’s a spell similar to the one he’s weaving with his tongue upon your aching clit. He doesn’t let up, tracing words you can’t make out and drinking in all the wetness flooding his mouth. The gentle scratch of his wiry beard burns just right, contrasting with the curls of pleasure coming from your sensitive clit. Without realizing, you grind your core against Bucky’s mouth, the friction only serving to make you into a trembling mess, your insides throbbing with a need to be filled, pussy clenching around nothing.

As if he feels you, Bucky slides his free hand over your leg and to the apex of your thighs, the first thick finger entering you slowly, like he’s testing the waters. You cry out, begging for more, and Bucky relents. His second finger follows as his tongue continues to lap at your pussy, letting you gyrate against his face as you try to fuck yourself on his hand.

“Bucky,” you pant, each letter of his name a stutter with moans, “please!”

“Please what, babydoll?” His voice sends another wave of arousal through you, juices slicking his fingers up more than before. Your stomach is tightening, pleasure in tight curls between your legs, center so close to snapping that tears are beginning to leak from your eyes because Bucky won’t fucking let you move your hips in the way that you want. He chuckles against your pussy, breath teasing over you, vibrations making you quiver.

“I’m gonna—”

Bucky curls his fingers inside of you, stroking your spot, just as his mouth envelops your clit in its heat and he sucks, hard, and the thin thread coiling in your core snaps and you come apart, harder, and a scream tears itself from your throat as warm tears fall into your hairline.

He never stops. As his suckling turns into kitten licks upon your clit, his third finger breaches your opening and slips inside, pumping into you as you ride your orgasm out on his hand. Your hand is tight in his hair until it all becomes too much and it falls to cover your mouth, your teeth finding your knuckle to bite back the sound of your moans.

“Oh no, baby, no,” Bucky says, and when you look down, he’s between your legs, watching you in the aftershocks of your pleasure. His fingers leave your pussy and you clench around nothing, a whine leaving your lips at the emptiness, until Bucky’s metal fingers are pulling your hand away from your face.

“I gotta hear you,” he whispers, the hand covered in your nectar finding your mouth. “Need to hear all those pretty little noises you’re making, baby. I’ve dreamed about ‘em. Would get my cock all hard thinking about ‘em. You gotta keep making ‘em ‘cause now that I’ve heard ‘em, I can’t get enough, babydoll.”

When he moves to trace your bottom lip, red and swollen from his own, your tongue darts out to taste the salt and sin on the pad of his thumb. Bucky places his fingers at your parted lips and you suck them into your mouth, licking all the juice from his skin, tongue swirling around his digits. You wonder if his lips taste like this, too.

He groans as he watches you, his eyes lidded and hazy and lovely, and then his metal hand finds the waistband of his boxers and yanks them off his hips. In one perfect movement, his cock slaps against his stomach, hot and red and already leaking, which makes you flush at the fact that Bucky liked making you come.

Subconsciously, your tongue snakes out to lick your lips as you take in the length, the thickness of his cock, and Bucky gets that familiar look on his face—cocky, smirking, knowing that he’s pushing your limits. He presses you back down upon the bed, his arms bracketing your head as his nose brushes against yours, his heat pressing into the subtle dip where your hip and thigh meet.

The feeling of his cock, hard and heavy against your naked skin, sends you into a frenzy of arousal, of want, of need. You reach out and take him into your hand, your thumb brushing over the velvet head and smearing his precum along his length. Bucky’s jaw tightens, muscle twitching, as you pump your fist around him and drag your fingers along the blue vein riding up the underside. The groan that falls from his lips, the stutter and jerk of his hips, the way he shakes above you is addicting, and Bucky has to pull your wrist away from his cock in order to stop you from getting him off just like that.

“Baby,” he breathes, resting his sweaty forehead against yours.

“Bucky, please,” you beg again. “Please, I need you inside me.”

“You want me?” he asks, and even though his voice is scratchy and thick with desire, he says it like he’s surprised. As if you could never want him.

You’ve always wanted him.

“Yes, god, Bucky. I want you,” you moan, threading your fingers into his hair to smash your lips together in a sharp, bruising kiss. “I need you,” you say against his mouth. “I need you so, so bad.”

“I need you too, babydoll. Need to feel you,” he says, the sound strained, almost like he can’t stay away from you any longer. You feel it too, the ache without him, the way your pussy clenches in anticipation for him.

The head of Bucky’s cock nudges at your entrance and your slick coats him. The soft skin of him brushes your over-sensitive clit and you keen, and he does it again, and again, until you’re shaking, until you wrap your ankles around Bucky’s back and pull him into you, raising your hips to meet his.

“You want this?” His voice is heavy when he asks.

“Yes,” you moan out, rocking against him.

He says your name and it sounds pained on his tongue. “Are you sure?”

“James.” Your teeth snap and gnash on his name, and it awakens something within him that sets every place he touches you ablaze with a new sensation, and Bucky enters you with a slow thrust of his hips. 

And it feels so fucking good.

Like straining a muscle you haven’t used in a while, it aches as he enters while you stretch to accommodate his size. The way his cock feels inside of you—touching you in places you never thought you’d be touched, filling you in a way you never thought you’d be filled.

He’s finally, finally yours. If just for this moment, Bucky Barnes is yours.

Your nails incise his back, making new marks among the sea of scarring he’s suffered, as you cling to his body in any way to feel him closer to you. Bucky leaves kisses on every surface of your face, your jawline, your neck. He kisses you everywhere and you wish you could tattoo the feeling into your skin.

“Are you alright?” he mumbles faintly into your neck and you can feel how hard he’s trying not to move, not to hurt you, to give you time to adjust to him. Your fingers trail up and down his spine, drifting into his hair, scratching against his scalp.

“Yes,” you hiss, undulating your hips and making a similar sound fall from his lips. “Bucky, please.”

You don’t know how many iterations of that same phrase you’ve said all night, but you’ll keep saying it, over and over, if he’ll take you like this. Just like this, with his arms trapping your body to the bed, his hips flush against yours, panting above you as he stares into your eyes all lustful and dark and wanting. He smells like the Bucky you’re so familiar with, your partner, Barnes, gunpowder and explosions and blood, with the clean scent of whatever deodorant he uses. If he’ll keep you like this, where you can pretend your his for this moment, you’ll say it over and over

Bucky, please—Bucky, please—Bucky, please—please—please—

When he finally moves, thrusting into your heat with a growl, it feels like time stops.

Bucky fucks you like he loves you, slow and steady, pumping into you fully and deeply until you lose your mind. He fucks you like he wants to ravage you, fast and quick and hard as he holds your hips to keep you steady, and you ignore the dull pain that flares up in your side because he’s fucking you like he needs you, like he can’t exist without you. He fucks you like he’ll never get another chance to touch you. When he fucks you like this, his thrusts falling out of rhythm, out of time, he rests his forehead against yours and you lean up to capture his mouth with yours, tongues sliding over one another sloppily.

The heat is building up inside of you again, and when Bucky lifts your hips and drapes you over his knees, pressing you up with his metal arm, his cock hits the spot inside you that makes you scream over and over. The waves are cresting. The crescendo is approaching. Every grunt and groan he makes mingles with your moans and shrieking pleasure, and it’s all going to culminate into one big moment, you can feel it.

Bucky pulls back to slip his hand between your bodies, sweaty and hot, and his thumb presses gently into your clit. With one sharp thrust, your body arches off the bed as you snap, screaming his name, and Bucky holds you through it.

Your vision goes black—you aren’t sure if it's because your eyes are screwed shut in pleasurable pain or if it's because you’ve passed out. Bucky’s hips jerk wildly into yours and you tighten the grip you have around his waist with your legs, digging your heels into the small of his strong back.

“So tight,” he hisses into your ear. “So fucking wet, baby. Feel so fucking right, made for me, aren’t you doll?”

“Yes, James,” you moan out as you ride the waves of your orgasm. “Made for you!”

Bucky works at your clit again as his rhythm starts to fail, and even with how sensitive you are, you feel the pleasure curling inside you again, hot inside your stomach. You clench and jolt whenever his cock hits the right angle, and all of a sudden, you’re on the edge yet again.

“I can’t,” you cry out, nearly a sob lost to the sound of his hips snapping against yours.

“You can,” he says, so gently. “You can, baby, just for me. You said so, right?”

How is he still talking? For fuck’s sake, your tongue feels like its detached from your mouth and all you can muster are the moans and whines that come from the back of your throat Bucky is forcing out of you.

“Come with me,” you beg, you plead. “Please James, please, come with me.”

“Baby—”

You break apart silently, clinging to his body, holding him to you as every fiber of your being is torn into pieces, shattered. As your pussy clenches and spasms around him, Bucky stutters in his thrusts and you pull him into you, willing him to fall over the edge with you, and he follows dutifully.

He groans out your name as he comes inside of you, liquid heat searing the deepest part of you. Falling back against the pillows, you whisper his name and drag him with you, mouth meeting his for one last clumsy, haphazard kiss. Bucky stills inside of you, still throbbing, and then he whispers something against your lips.

“I love you.”

You freeze, eyes wide, and Bucky pulls away from your embrace to look at you.

“What?” you ask, swallowing thickly. “What did you say?”

“I—” He looks nervous now, but his blue eyes are so fucking sincere. “I’m—I’m so sorry, fuck.”

Bucky moves to pull out of you, to leave, but you tighten your legs around his hips and trap him against you. The cocky smirk he wears, the confident smile, even the look of desire he wore while fucking you—it’s all gone. Left in its wake is the ashamed look Bucky wears that makes him seem small, and you want to smooth it away until he looks at you like he wants you again. Like he wants you to be his. 

Like he loves you.

“Why are you sorry?” you ask him, stroking a hand through his hair.

“Because—fuck—this wasn’t supposed to happen.” He glances away from you and glares at the floor and a heartbreaking pain shoots through you. Now, he pulls out of you, shifting to get off the bed and clean up, but you can’t stop the words before they tumble out.

“You didn’t want me?”

“What?” Bucky turns and cups your face in his hand, searching your eyes for something, and his thumb wipes away a stray tear you didn’t realize had fallen. 

Oh fuck, here it comes. He told you he loved you in a fit of passion and now you’re the stupid, clingy girl that he needs to leave behind. You’re partners, first and foremost, and you shouldn’t have forgotten that.

But god, he made you feel like you were his, and you wanted that so bad. You want it so fucking bad.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, voice shaking and you wonder if you mean it. “I know I’m stupid, and I know you hate me, and I know it was just sex—”

“Baby, no, please.” Bucky brings your face to his and kisses you softly, sweetly, like he adores you. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry because someone like me shouldn’t love someone like you. God, I shouldn’t love someone as perfect as you. I can’t have you, doll. And I’m sorry.”

Oh. Bucky does love you.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

You surge up and slant your mouth over his, hand gripping the back of his neck to pull him down, fingers twining in the fine hairs where his scalp meets his skin. In this one kiss, you pour everything you think you can into it, everything you feel now, everything you’ve felt since you met him, everything you’ve ever felt at every moment you’ve shared with him.

“I love you,” you say when you pull away. “I love you so much, Bucky. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

His eyes are so wide, so afraid, so confused.

“You do?”

“I do,” you tell him. “God, I’ve wanted you for so long, Bucky Barnes, you stupid man.”

You expect him to kiss you now, but he doesn’t. Instead, Bucky cradles your head in his hand and pulls you to his chest, embracing you in his warm arms. He rolls onto the bed, carefully lifting you until you’re situated on top of him, where you wrap your limbs around him and lay upon his warm body. Bucky lays kisses on the crown of your hair, holding you so tightly against him you think you might suffocate.

“I’ve loved you since the day you kicked my ass, doll,” he admits. You laugh.

“Are you kidding me? I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you,” he says. “I hated that you would sacrifice yourself for others. I still hate it. It’s why you got hurt today and god, the threat of losing you, it scares me doll. I didn’t know what I would do if you died right there in my arms and I never got the chance to tell you all this.”

You glance up at him, at his beautiful face and his beautiful eyes, the man who you hated and who you wanted and who you love. God, you really do love him.

“I’m not going to leave you,” you whisper, pressing an awkward kiss to his bare chest. “Now that I have you, I could never leave you.”

He laughs at that. “Babydoll, you’ve always had me. I can’t believe you never knew.”

You think back to all the times he’s looked at you, dopey grins and cocky smiles and coy glances. You think about how long you’ve leaned on each other in the two years you’ve been partners, how he’s the only person you’ve ever trusted with your life, how you always work to come back to him. You think about the butterflies that stirred in your stomach the first time you met him, when he shook your hand and gave you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen, the same smile he has plastered on his face right now as looks down at you.

Sitting up, you look at Bucky Barnes, chin resting in your palm lazily.

“Maybe I’ve always known,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe I did, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #one shot #drabble #fic requests #inbox me to request a fic! #thanks for supporting me! #bucky barnes smut #smut fic #divine masterlist

[juniors0possum]

🐾Creative Animal Food🐾

Hello peoplez, I don't think anyone cares, especially because this is completely different then my casual content, but today I did a little fun project and built some special meals for our animals-

I loved doing it and will definitely do it again next week.

Here's the log of it! (A zookeeper guide of preparing enrichment)

[Long Post Warning]

-The Fantasy Sea Slug Fish-

This one was our first project we did spontaneous because we got ultra huge courgettes we didn't know how to feed-

So first we made small holes and filled it with nuts and grapes. Then we added scallions as antennas and tomatoes as eyes. After that we put some dried bread as fins in and some Belgian endive as- hair?

After giving it the name "Yoshi" we brought it to their new home- the Rhesus Macaques.

It was fun carrying Yoshi through the park lol

And here's what happened then:

The nuts were actually the only popular (and the bread) the rest got just destroyed and left behind- it was still really interesting to watch it.

Next one we did were some

-Fruit Birds-

Some simple sweet snack we did because the first idea wasn't possible haha- but I really like how they turned out.

Just some melons with banana necks and strawberry heads- plus a little veggie bonus with Belgian endive tails and radish.

Then we placed them in the next enclosure:

Yes I even fed the fruit birds-

It took a moment till they got noticed

First their new friends were a bit confused by them, but wanted to say hi soon. Sadly the meerkats weren't that impressed and only destroyed everything beside eating it. But it was still fun!

And last little building, I definitely want to rebuild next week but bigger

-The Cucumber Car-

For this one I sadly have no after pictures, but our guinea pigs LOVED their new vehicle haha

The car was literally gone after two minutes because they all ate it with a passion.

This one was just a cucumber with some carrots as passengers and radish seats-

Okay that was my random post about animal food haha

I hope it wasn't too boring-

#zookeeper #animals #zoo animals #meerkats #apes #macaques #animal food #zoo keeper #zoo life #zoophotography #creative #long post #animal love #zookeeper journal

[rebeccathenaturalist]

After two and a half years, I finally got to get back out on Long Island in Willapa Bay! The barge tours held by the Friends of Willapa NWR, as well as Refuge staff, were put on hold due to the pandemic. But small-group outdoor activities are basically considered to be very low risk these days, so instead of several dozen people getting on the barge and going around to the southwestern side of the island to take the shortcut to the Don Bonker Cedar Grove Trail, we instead were shuttled over in small informal tour groups of less than a dozen at a time to the dock just on the other side of the water. It meant a longer hike--two miles to get to the cedar grove trail--but it was a perfect day for it weather-wise, with just a smattering of rain in the morning to green everything up, and then cool and mostly overcast the rest of the day.

There's nothing quite like the grove--almost literally. Almost the entirety of the Willapa Hills have been clearcut at least once over the years to fuel the endless demand for timber, which means almost all of the ancient cedars and Sitka spruce that once covered the land were taken down. Boeing is situated in Seattle, BTW, because they wanted all the old growth spruce for early planes, which is why they're often scarcer than old growth cedar.

Yet here on Long Island, most of which was also clearcut to include as recently as the 1960s, 274 acres of old growth cedar remain, and former Washington congressman Don Bonker was a huge champion for saving this special place from similar devastation. You can still see dozens of cedar trees, some of which are a thousand years old, that remain as a testimony to what greed and ignorance stole from this land. We have only fragments of the grand forests that were once here, but as I walked along the trail that went through younger forests--some consisting of nothing more than thin, close-growing "doghair" young trees--I imagined what it must have been like for this entire island to be the same as the grove.

Many of the ancient cedars, like the one at the center of the photo, have multiple leaders--the top portion of the trunk that continues to grow upward. Because the island is so close to the ocean just on the other side of the Long Beach Peninsula, and the grove is high on the island, the tops of the trees frequently break in the heavy winds characteristic of our winter storms here. Multiple breaks throughout a tree's lifetime are not uncommon.

I got to spend several hours on the island, more than I've been able to in the past. Guests had the choice to either self-guide, or to go along with volunteer tour guides like me. My group hovered around six people, and the individual members changed throughout the day as people wandered off or joined in. But it was pleasant, and I got to share some of my favorite things about this place with guests. Plus there were all three colors of banana slug--perfectly ripe (yellow), overripe (yellow with black spots) and banana bread time (black)!

#forest #old growth #old growth forest #Willapa Bay #Willapa National Wildlife Refuge #cedar #western red cedar #nature #trees #plants #botany #wildlife #old growth logging #Washington #PNW #Pacific Northwest

[whattolearntoday]

August 27th is...

Banana Lovers Day -  Whether you like it straight from the peel, sliced on cereal, or baked into a banana bread, the whole world loves bananas.  What you may not know is that the whole world is eating ONE kind of banana, and that banana type is not the same thing your great-great-grandparents were eating during WWI or WWII. Banana’s have been one of the biggest examples of monoculture in our history, and sometime in the past hundred years we had a massive plague hit, wiping out every banana of this strain in existence. So an entirely new banana was introduced and is now the one that is grown everywhere.

Daffodil Day -  As the first flower to bloom in Spring, daffodils quickly became a symbol of hope when cancer societies started using the flower in the 1950s. The image became iconic, forever tied to the efforts of volunteers, researchers, and those who wanted to raise awareness ever since.

International Bat Night - Established to help promote the good image of bats, and to help start creating some clarity on the facts about them above and beyond the rumors and Hollywood image. While we often think of bats as nocturnal predators feasting on the blood of the innocent and harboring rabies, the truth is quite different. Yes, there are bats that feed on blood, but they mostly feed on insects and believe us, you want bats to be out there patrolling the night and helping eliminate them. Bats are one of the major contributors to keeping down obnoxious night insects like mosquitoes. There are also bats that feed on nectar and fruit, and actually help to pollinate and spread the seed of plants, in many cases they’re the only ones working to help those plants procreate.

Just Because Day -  Every day we all do things that are expected or required of us. Sometimes we even do things because we have to do them; we don’t know why.  Well, on this occasion, that does not apply.  This day is a chance to do something without rhyme or reason.

Petroleum Day - Contrary to popular belief that it is a substance humanity has only recently started using because it was needed for vehicles, petroleum has been used in one form or another since ancient times. According to the renowned Greek historian, Herodotus, petroleum was one of the substances used to build the walls of Babylon. The ancient Persians also used petroleum for lighting purposes, filling their lamps with it, as well as for various medicinal purposes. In the mid-1800s, Scottish chemist James Young began distilling petroleum, resulting in the production of kerosene as well as a thicker, darker oil that was perfect for lubricating machinery. Today, about 90% of the world’s vehicles are powered using petroleum. 

Pots De Creme Day - Recipes for this delightful French dessert date back to the 17th century. Its name means “pot of custard” or “pot of creme” which also refers to the baking dish. On the spectrum of custards, pots de creme is a loose custard. It should not be set when baking completes.  Recipes vary, however, the basic ingredients in pot de creme remains the same. Count on needing eggs, egg yolks, cream or milk, and either chocolate or vanilla for flavor. The mixture is baked in the porcelain cups at a low temperature. A water bath helps the custard bake evenly. 

Tug-Of-War Day - Tug-of-war is a competitive sport that takes place around the world and has a long and ancient history. Two teams hold each end of a large rope and attempt to pull the other towards them in order to win. Contests often take place over bodies of water or muddy areas so that the losing team suffers the indignity of falling in, which is preferable to the Viking version of tug-of-war when teams competed over a pit of fire.

World Rock, Paper, Scissors Day - Rock Paper Scissors is considered the oldest hand game in the world. In fact, the game dates all the way back to the Chinese Han Dynasty. This era began in 206 BC and ended in 220 AD. There are also accounts of this game in Japanese history. The earliest versions of this game consisted of a slug, snake, and frog. Rocks, papers, and scissors were used in a later version of the game developed in the 17th century. It wasn’t until the 1920’s that the popular Asian hand game made its way to Great Britain. In 1932, an article in the New York Times described the rules of Rock Paper Scissors.

#bananas #daffodils #bats #just because #petroleum #pots de creme #tug-of-war #rock paper scissors

[uglyseason]

I love flowers, gay people who make art, banana bread, a funky little bass guitar, bodies of water, tamarins. I luv fried rice I love overalls I love super strong coffee and I love sea slugs tbh. What a magestic creature

[rinielsaerwen]

27. Is there a homily or a priest's advice that will always stick with you?14. How would you describe your perfect day?23. describe your dream date?40. write your name with your non-dominant hand15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?21. obsession from childhood?50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?73. favorite weird flavor combo?76. what’s your favorite potato food? 🍯 🌟 green tea - pick 3 top songs for a road trip, what are they? Sorry if that's too many lol

27. Is there a homily or a priest's advice that will always stick with you?

The most recent homily that struck me was when Father said, "Sin is deliberate stupidity"

14. How would you describe your perfect day?

I like to start my day off with a workout and taking Duncan for a walk. I would go to that used bookstore that I've been wanting to go to. I would love to spend a few hours at the lake...reading a book...wearing a pretty dress :) And then I would make a home cooked dinner and wind down with a movie and maybe some stitching.

23. Describe you dream date?

Okay the dream date in my head is that we (my SO and I) go to dinner (not super fancy, but not casual either) and we just talk. And maybe after dinner we could walk downtown enjoying the nightlife and each other's company with the streetlamps lighting the way. ....anyway...

40. Write your name with your non-dominant hand:

15. Favorite book you read as a reading assignment?

I would say To Kill A Mockingbird

21. Obsession from childhood?

🐎 Horses...I was the horse girl lol I still love horses they're so gentle and beautiful

Star Wars

The Lord of the Rings

50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

When we were kids my sister and I would play with our Barbie dolls and my brother would have his Ninja Turtles take over the Barbie house, but of course Barbie would always foil their plans and escape in her bright pink Slug Bug and run over a few turtles.

...maybe you had to be there, but remembering us playing like that together still makes me laugh.

73. Favorite wierd flavor combo?

Okay you can judge me for this I guess lol

So I start with Macaroni and Cheese, then a layer of peas on top of it, slice some sausage and layer that on top, then finish with a ketchup garnish.

(If this grosses anyone out I am so sorry 😂😂)

76. What's your favorite potato food?

Hashbrowns!

🍯 What's one food that will always remind you of home?

Chocolate chip banana bread

🌟 What's one memory you will always look back on fondly?

The times with my friends where we just talk until 1 in the morning

Green tea - Pick 3 top songs for a roadtrip, what are they?

Your Wildest Dreams by the Moody Blues

Castle on the Hill by Ed Sheeran

Something Just Like This by Coldplay

#thanks for the asks! #ask #rs

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Facts About The Year 2020:

2020 is a leap year, meaning there will be 366 days.

This is the year that the Indubrizzi calendar predicts will mark the end of the era of humankind, and the beginning of the era of the sea slug.

Numerous countries, including the USA, will have presidential elections.

The Challenger Sea Mount Laboratory will open underwater with 250 crew. Though it will perform serious climate science, it will be a mere parody of itself by 2021.

Several plant species are expected to go extinct in the wild, including the Dutch Elm, the Lilac, and the modern Banana Tree, which has been unable to maintain itself due to long-term genetic modification by humans. The last bananas are expected to sell for several thousand dollars each, while unsold bananas will rot and be used to make banana bread that will cost several thousand dollars a pound.

The new Lemony Snicket series “The Holy Mountain and How I Climbed It Naked” will debut with its first book, “A Decent Beginning.” The new series is said to be lighter in tone, but darker in print, with twice as much ink used as his previous series.

2020 will be the 100th anniversary of the founding of Aleister Crowley’s “Abbey of Thelema,” a small house in Italy where he performed an inaugural ritual designed to end the world in 100 years and make way for a new epoch in which human souls would leave their mortal bodies for new ethereal forms that he likened to “ectoplasmic sea slugs.” Current Abbey leader Edwin Naustrel affirms that “Mankind is at an end, in 2020 humanity will undergo the great reduction in which we will all faint one day, and on the next be reborn as glowing sea slugs, provided we have sea slug eggs to incubate in. The more eggs we own, the greater shall be our dominion over the realm. All who lack them will simply cease to exist.”

Bradley Cooper is expected to marry Jennifer Lawrence, David O. Russell will perform the ceremony.

Edwin’s Sea Slug Farm will have its opening sale with 1lb of sea slug eggs for $10, Monday-Thursday 10AM-8PM, or use the code “SLUG-ERA” on the website “www.seaslugsshallruletheworld.moc.”

#2020 #new years #aleister crowley #sea slug #nudibranch #trivia #facts