Thanks to #mightyskins for my fantastic new laptop skin! Just slap my trusty Bucky and Cap wall clings back on and we are Ready For Duty! #marvelownsmysoul #buckybarnes #steverogers
Moments like these are what I live for. Real insight from the people who create these films and make them wonderful. Moments where they reach out and connect with the people who support their art and appreciate it and we appreciate them for their time and they appreciate us for our support. Moments where you can really feel like the distance is closed between those two realms of audience and cast/crew and just appreciate the art, together. Bond over that.
Also: The Russos are my heroes. I would love to work with them some day. I don’t care what it is. I would PA for them all day and just fetch coffee and firewatch trucks in a parking lot if that meant that I could just stand somewhere in their general vicinity while they worked.
Thank you @buzzfeed for throwing this event! Thank you @marvelentertainment for being you.
PS: Team Cap. Forever.
Because some days you just need to draw stick figures of superheroes you like to imagine together. #marvel #xmen #avengers #hawkeye #cannonball #samguthrie #clintbarton #fandom
How can you be confused about your sexuality? You're bi aren't you? You've had boyfriends and girlfriends, that's pretty simple.
There’s a million different ways to identify your sexuality. When I first came out of the closet, you’re right, I said I was bisexual. At that point though, I’d only ever dated men. So does that mean before I ever dated a woman I was only ever a hetero? I mean, the way you’ve just worded it, that’s how it would go right?
And okay, you’re right. I’ve only DATED people who are one gender or another, mentally but not physically. I have had two boyfriends with vaginas, a girlfriend with a penis for a brief amount of time. I’ve also slept with and found myself attracted to people who identify as genderfluid, genderqueer, so now exactly how do you define that? Are you confused? Yeah me too.
I wanted to say at one point that I was just a homosexual. I’ve had a bunch of bad relationships with men, bad as in abusive, as in rape, so now, when I see a penis on the person I’m in love with in the bedroom, I choke up, I flinch, I have ptsd flashbacks to the last time I had a real penis inside of me because it wasn’t there under my consent. But I still find myself attracted to men, with or without penises, but the penis part terrifies me and I don’t honestly know if I’ll ever again be able to have sex with a penis bearing male.
So that’s why I don’t know what I am. Am I pansexual? Am I bi? Am I just a slut? I’m sure you’d like to slap one of those labels on me, but I don’t know which one is the most appropriate, therefore, I have no idea what my sexuality is.
No, that's not confusing.
Let papa Bucky alpha break this down for you, sugar pants.
No, just because you only dated x or only slept with x, you are not x. Experience does not equate sexuality. If it did, virgins would be asexual. They're not. My best friend it's gay. Gaaaaaaaaay. But he's had boyfriend with vaginas, and he dated a chick in high school. Sexuality equates to what gender you are attracted to sexually. If you can be attracted to both, you are bi.
Pansexual isn't a thing. It's a special snowflake word that only further alienates and separates transgender people from their accepted sexuality. It's insulting.
Unless you are also sexually attracted to objects I suppose. That is a thing. Ask the woman who married the Eiffel tower.
And you don't bring enough strange ass home to be slutty. I don't see anyone making the walk of shame out of your room at midnight except for you when you want a snack. Giiiiiiiiirl.
Bucky alpha.
Because I still am, motherfuckers.
Scarlett: “Yep!” Chris: *nodding*
Jeremy: Repeating exactly what Chris says Mark: ...oh man. Am I on the right team?
Seriously? Again?
captainspangly:
insovietrussiawintersoldiersyou:
The crack of the door on flesh and bone makes Bucky cringe mildly, grabbing the handle of the door a second time with his left hand and holding it still lest Clint slams it on himself a second time. “You’ll scream and tell them what? You’re having a fight with your two boyfriends, the international hero and the assassin from hell?” Bucky shakes his head mildly and exhales a breath of tapered disappointment or helplessness, it’s hard to tell which comes out ahead when Steve gives his apology and Clint basically tells him to go shove it up his own ass.
Another squeeze to the nape of his neck which Bucky won so hard from their little bicker/struggle back and forth, running his thumb against the shell of that ear one more time in spite of the exasperated roll of Clint’s eyes.
Their relationship is a tense one and Bucky knows it. It’s physical. Visceral. It’s built around fire and passion and energy that usually singes both of them at some point. But Bucky tries to fend off the flames licking at him for the moment as he leans in with a controlled pull of tension on the back of Clint’s neck. Dipping his head to try to mouth a light kiss against the side of his stubborn lover’s neck, mumbling against his skin after. “Have fun with the girls. We’ll nurse you back from the hangover tomorrow.” A casual and slightly more lighthearted promise as Bucky lets that grasp relax and allows Clint to pull away the same time as he does.
His mouth doesn’t say it, but in a glance he does. ‘We love you, you fucking idiot.’ A sharp yank and thud of sound, Bucky unwedges his boot from its stuck place under the door, freeing up Clint’s escape route as he backs off.
Steve knows he deserved that, the way Clint shook off his apology like he hadn’t even remotely listened to it. Maybe Clint just needed the time to cool down, especially if he had actually had plans tonight to begin with and Steve’s teasing game that had led up to not being so teasing after all had ruined his mood for the night. It doesn’t mean that the kick doesn’t hurt a little but Steve does well to smooth it off his face with a smile that says ‘I’ll be here when you get back, I love you’. With a little mix of ‘and I am actually sorry, I hope you do know that.” Clint just needed some air, Steve had learned that as a lie or a stretch of the truth to tell himself when Clint was angry with him.
If or when, Clint leaves, Steve backs away. He goes to move away, to back up from Bucky as Bucky didn’t have any hands on him grounding him to one place. He doesn’t move far, just enough distance between them in case Bucky wanted space to free him from the cornering against the door. He determinedly keeps his eyes locked on the floor. He hadn’t meant for it to become as bad as it did. It had started off innocent enough, he’d thought. “M’sorry. It was just a game. It got heated when I was just.. I hadn’t meant to upset him. Or you.”
"Hmm, no— I’ll scream and tell ‘em that my fucking boyfriend is pretty much barring me inside our damn house, please send help, I think he’s gone crazy,” he says and does this little thing where he tenses and then instantly relaxes when Bucky’s hand squeezes around the nape of his neck. He can’t keep the moan in but he pretends like he didn’t make a single sound, pretends like he isn’t shivering at the light touch to his ear.
He lets Bucky lean in and he is the absolute worst for letting his ‘angry’ mask slip for a moment as he leans his neck off to the side. His breath shudders out of him and he lets out another soft moan, giving a violent sort of shiver when Bucky’s deep voice rumbles against his skin. He lets out a soft fuck and pulls himself away, pupils already starting to dilate, tilting out of the way as Bucky steps away from the door.
He wants to kiss him and Steve goodbye like this is the last time he’ll see them, but he doesn’t, wants to stay pissed for a little while longer even though it’s almost impossible to do so now.
At least he can act.
The blond huffs and sneers at Bucky. “Thanks, Prince Valiant,” he says sarcastically and slams the door open, digging his phone out of his pocket and checking the time. “I’ll be back in the morning, like I said— bond. Fuck. Find out that I’m not the only one that can suck dick,” he winks and clicks his tongue, glancing towards Steve and the look he’s given nearly melts the last bit of the wall of ice he’s been building up around his heart for the past twenty minutes of arguing they’ve been doing.
Nearly melts it.
Okay, maybe he’ll just stay long enough to do Nat’s nails and take a few shots and maybe watch a James Dean or Marlon Brando movie and then come home so he can properly apologize for being a stupid idiot.
He can’t help it. “I love you,” he says to the both of them, smiling a little, showing them the underlying warmth that’s still there, just for the two of them, before he’s pulling down his angry mask and storming out.
It's quick. Amazingly quick how Clint can strike a cord in Bucky that goes right to the root of him. Steve can do it, too, though the sheer physicality is Clint's forte. Bucky swears he can feel the very air around the archer tremble and begin to sway like the vapor off a hot New York sidewalk; distorting the scenery around it. That single whisper of a cussing word satisfying on that visceral level they exist on. He could try to pull him back. Try to calm Clint down enough and take him apart enough that his anger--real and pretend- simply...dissipates.
But anger is good sometimes.
Acting out is good sometimes.
Most importantly, not constantly being controlled is good.
So Bucky steps back and unlodges his foot, though it's with a deliberately slow taste of his lower lip where he at least imagines he can still taste Clint's skin as he hangs back and receives that sarcastic barb, which only manages to make the assassin smile in some quiet and secretive way.
"I prefer Lancelot. Princes don't get any of the fun. Knights are where it's at. And Lancelot gets to nail Gwen and Elaine." He smirks and slides both of his hands into his pockets--a rare gesture. He prefers both hands free and unfettered, or at least one, rarely are both tucked away in a clear sign of allowance. Hands off. Another secretive little smile at Clint's encouragement to himself and Steve, finally looking over toward his blond counterpart, his minute smile lifting just a hair as Bucky's feet slowly lead him 'round in Steve's direction. Like the moon orbiting the earth.
It's only with Clint's final parting words to them that a surprised breath of near laughter escapes his lips and his gaze lifts back to Clint. That's gotta be the most backwards 'I love you' ever, but it's perfect.
The door shuts and Bucky shakes his head mildly and turns his eyes up to Steve, still wearing that enigmatic smile on the corners of his mouth and eyes. A couple seconds pass and he reaches out, absently nudging Steve's elbow with the back of his hand. "C'mon." His voice low, absently warm and rasping just a little bit. "I'll make popcorn. You pick a film." Sure. Bonding.
★and I will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.
Bucky strolled quick beside Steve, the blond’s stride increasing in speed, the very click of his ‘old man shoes’ on the pavement sounded rife with irritation. Every click of his heel a silent strain, every tap of the toe a mute muttering. Bucky’s stride was as relaxed as could be in comparison, occasionally cutting a sidelong glance to his oldest friend. Both hands in his pockets, shoulders squared and walking side by side with the faintest swagger.
Halted temporarily as they waited for a streetlight, the brunet keeps his eyes queued on the sign ahead as he leans to the side slightly to mutter discretely to Steve, “You look so sexy when you’re angry at me." Leaning back in his own space nonchalantly with a habitual lick of his lips. Eyes still looking straight ahead.
They’re longer now, sure, but Bucky’s only about an inch shorter than Steve is, now and with a little bit of a jog to catch up initially as Steve weaves through the crowd of people in crosstraffic, Bucky smirks to himself as he follows and catches back up on the other side of the street, dropping back to Steve’s shoulder as reliable as ever. Their legs match now. Right, left, right, left, in perfect angry marching sequence.
Steve is granted a short reprieve in that crossing the street. Silence from Bucky’s lighthearted goading. Not for long however as he picks it back up a few seconds later, murmuring in a low, intimately conversational tone. “You know when you storm around, there’s this muscle in your jaw that tightens up and makes you look a little like a greek god.”
Pause.
left, right, left, right, left…
"It’s the same tiny muscle that pops out a little when you’re kissing me for a long time somewhere—ahem—private." Bucky suppresses a smile as he splits the pole they walk around and falls back in step beside Steve again. "Doesn’t really fend off my initial comment."
Steve’s jaw tries hard to stay clenched in irritation and Steve does try really hard to stay angry, he does even if it’s a task. It’s always a task to stay mad at Bucky when the jerk knows all the secret ways to make him smile but Steve remains firm, for now, even if the left corner of his mouth threatens to twitch up in a smile at being compared to a Greek god. And Steve starts to wonder if this is how Bucky reasoned with the women he used to date when they would become angry with him.
"Laying on the compliments now, are we Barnes? Propositioning me for sexual favors surprisingly didn’t work out for you so you think telling me I’m pretty is going to get you off of the couch tonight?" Steve says, managing to keep a bite in his tone though Steve’s starting to forget what he’s even angry about any more. Perhaps this was Bucky’s strategy, distract Steve from his anger until he forgot.
That's always been Bucky's game, hasn't it? Distraction at its finest. Whenever Steve's in a bad mood, his quick quips and non-sequitur commentary always did its best to remind him that, hey, there are worse things. And there are /better/ things! Even walking along, shoulder to shoulder with Steve fuming like he was, there were worse things than what Bucky tried to pull back there. And there were so many better.
"I'm not worried about that. It's a pretty comfortable couch. I made sure of that." Facing forward, splitting by the occasional person as they passed, Bucky's eyes were alit and a vague sense of satisfaction hung around him. "I'm more worried about you having a nightmare if you kick me out, you know. What are you going to do if you banish me to the couch to play halo and watch movies, and you have a nightmare, but I'm not there to chase the boogie man away? You know how sensitive you are, Kid, I'm just here to look out for you." Shithead.
"Besides, I wasn't complimenting you. I was stating an irrefutable fact. I'm pretty sure that's why you and Thor can't be on the same planet for too long--jaw timeshare rights." Bucky continues with his ridiculous addendum to distraction as they walked down the street, his steps matching time with Steve's. "Mjolnir would get confused if Thor didn't leave. Next thing we know, you get all hopped up on Asgardian Lightning Go-Go Juice, and with the hammer /and/ shield?" The brunet whistles low, his voice a perfect imitation of seriousness. "We'd all be in for it."
Pale eyes cut sidelong to his companion, trying to judge just how much trouble he was still in.
I usually call this size “Nano,” but I couldn’t pass up the alliteration. I didn’t have the perfect color for her hair in this weight yarn, so I tried putting in a strand or two of brown. You can’t really see it here; I’m not sure I like it. Her hair is way out of control in any event (as usual with my guys). If I can get Ming-Na Wen’s address, I’ll send her to her.
Common Sense saves the day again!
This poor young man forgot his pants on his way out today! Naturally, Clint offered to lend him his own pants out of sympathy (he can always borrow another pair), but they turned out to be the wrong size. Aw, pants.
(A.K.A. Clint and I stumbled onto the annual No Pants Subway Ride and asked permission to take this photo. It seemed appropriate!)
You don’t see that every day. Clint really gets around.
I recently bought a Batchix machina off ebay that I thought was pink, but I really couldn’t tell under the current paintjob. She’s not assembled correctly, which is why she wouldn’t stand for the previous owner. The paint job isn’t my style, so she’s going to be totally stripped off and redone, but I was so excited to discover that she is NOT pink, but a pale lilac shade! I like all my machinas to look totally different, so she will be a very delicate-looking lady when I’m finished with her. I’m going to do some headcap resculpting too. I’ll finish out the story when I’m done, but in the meantime, you can see the excitement and concern of the rest of the machina team for their new member!
Cast:
Ice: Handcast Gamma
Gage: Procast Gamma with alternate helmet
Four: Handcast Epsilon
Triple: Enchantmentdoll Alpha
Angel: Procast body with Faceless head sculpted by me.
Task: Procast Eta with a boy helmet
Mend: Procast Delta
(via fuckyeahursulavernon) GM fail. That should have been a Knowledge (Planes) roll.
(via squall-loire)
SPOTLIGHT ON: Mr. Anthony Misiano’s Joker cosplays. Harley’s Joker and Joker’s Harley, they call themselves, and their eye for imitation is uncanny. Lovely job
[James Barnes] My superiors offer you both this chemical in exchange for your renewed loyalty…
[Natasha Romanoff] We say yes.
Marvel: Black Widow: Deadly Origin Vol 1 #1 (2009) (wiki)
I’ve never met a man worth his salt who in the long run, deep down in his heart, didn’t appreciate the grind…the discipline…