sebastian stan and anthony mackie did the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge together, proving there is in fact a god

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense that he would be drafted, but I always liked the idea that he wasn’t drafted, you know, that he made the choice to enlist himself because I always thought that he, uh… When I read up on the comics, he was, you know, given his family background. He was always sort of following his dad’s footsteps, which would always had been in the army. So, he gave him — it kinda gave him no choice that he had made on his own to become — to be in the army, which later for me kinda gave him that angst to be unsure whether or not he wanted to be there." (x)

"I'll gladly double the butts I'll touch as a punishment."

|| Chasing Waterfalls ||

"I.. thanks." The warmth of the food immediately sank through the bag to pool across Bucky’s lap, further chasing the chill from his waterlogged jeans. Paper rustled as he peeked inside, the addictive scent already making his mouth water.

"Jesus, how hungry do you think I am?" Amused blue-gray eyes dragged pointedly down Sam’s lean frame, lingering on his stomach. "If this is your usual, then I got no idea where you’re packin’ it, man."

Folding a few fries into his mouth, Bucky wriggled back against the seat, allowing his ever-present guard to slip just a little further. He could still elbow Sam in the face and roll out of the door if the guy gave him any trouble, but he doubted it would come to that. He didn’t have much of the serial killer vibe to him.

“‘Sides, fancy can be overrated,” Bucky continued, unwrapping a burger and promptly dissecting it, pulling out the tomato with a wrinkled nose and letting it drop back into the paper. “This one guy took me to a high-end restaurant once; I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my whole fuckin’ life, and that’s sayin’ something.” He shrugged, eyes still on his burger. “Didn’t stop him from makin’ me blow him in the bathroom, though; even fancy places got their dark sides.”

Taking a bite out of the burger — it was good, definitely better than a lot of shitty fast food places he could mention — Bucky turned his attention back to Sam. “So, am I allowed to ask what you do?” He asked after he’d swallowed, ignorant to the tomato sauce smeared beside his lip.

"'Welcome." He bobbed his head without turning his gaze off the road.

He couldn't justify clogging his own arteries--and this Bucky dude's--but this was fast and convenient as well as hot and those were more pressing than a couple hundred more calories to burn off later. From the looks of this guy though, he could use a couple hundred more calories.  

Laughter erupted from Sam at Bucky's surprised tone and glanced over just in time to catch the blue-gray eyes venturing over his own body. "Hey, man! Half of those are mine, a'right? Touch those and I'm gonna fight you for yours!" He screwed up his features in a light-hearted snarl, teeth bared to frighten him and everything.  

Sam reached to his bag and grabbed another handful of fries to stuff in his own mouth. "--It's not." He mumbled. "Jus' in town to visit some.. folks. Don't eat this stuff everyday, they're not good for you." He wasn't trying to come off as a parent but a healthier food promoter...maybe.

He sat and listened to Bucky's story and inhaled more fries in silence, not even paying attention to the tomato being unfairly discarded. It feels oddly like he was talking to one of the workers he 'owned' back some time ago: taking names and habits and which human sex toy a client liked for future references. It was difficult to get such information from the crew he had to work with but nonetheless, it was a moment of bonding and he didn't know he was lying to himself that he felt better when they showed some hint of real, positive emotion. 

Back to the here and now, he just wished that.. "Ugh. Don't bring up dirty bathrooms when I'm gonna be eatin'!" He shrugged off the past once again with a topic change to lighten the mood.

Driving by a mostly empty parking lot, he pulled into a spot and set the car on park. "You can ask whatever you want, doesn't mean I'll answer all of them." He was letting his own guard slip but not this much. Turning off the engine, the constant humming almost immediately died away. He grabbed the keys as he put his other hand on the handle of the door beside him. "I might have a sweatshirt in the back or something.. probably not washed though but.. y'want it?" He took a better look at the guest in his car; it wasn't as lit up here as it was driving past the numerous shops and their bright signs but at least now his attention wasn't focused on not crashing the car. He gave his waterlogged appearance a once-over, deciding to turn up the heat when he makes the decision.

"Jus' stay away from high up places and you'll be fine."

#look at this dork getting excited over fishing #who the fuck wears a leather jacket when fishing

the same dork who wears skinny jeans and boots when playing tennis

Got Milk?

I fell in love with these amazing headphones by Axentwear (yes, they do have cat ears like that ♥ ) and I wanted to draw Bucky wearing them because I thought he would look cute (don’t ask).

The little Latté mascot on the milk carton is by Tokidoki.  Voilà, I’m done with my art-spam for this week. (Photoshop CS6).

punk!bucky yes

or maybe raver!bucky?

Either way, amazing talent

Hmmm, not punk!Bucky (even if I wouldn’t know how to define the style above). For punk!Bucky, I would have drawm him less “cute”, maybe a bit like this, with a shaved head and tattoos:

Yes, he has a “Steve” tattoo :3 So much for “less cute”, ha! Thanks a lot for the reblog and enjoying the art ♥

Bucky  (from)

You know what I want to talk about? I want to talk about Bucky, about the pre-war days, about what an absolute nightmare it must have been to love Steve back then.

Because let’s face it, Steve was ridiculously sickly and didn’t give a fuck about that.

I mean, just imagine yourself in Bucky’s position. Seriously, do it.

You’re born right at the end of the worst war in man’s memory, possibly history. Miraculously enough your father returns and your young childhood is possibly almost idyllic, living with your parents in an era characterized by abundance and optimism.

You start school and it’s good, you have friends and you like learning things. Then one day there is this little shrimp of a fella getting pushed around by some of the boys in your class and you decide to intervene, because damn, it looks like the fella is going to break if you so much as breathe on him. Your classmates aren’t good at taking a no, though, so you take a swing of your own. Of course you do, you can’t let them kill the little shrimp.

You take out the boys because they are more bark than bite, but to your surprise the little fella helps you out. He’s pathetic, obviously, but he just keeps getting up and going at it again and again.

Once the boys are chased away, you turn to say that he doesn’t need to thank you, but you stop when you see the little fella glare at you. I had ‘em on the ropes he says through his broken nose and sounds petulant.

You can’t help it. You laugh. The little fella looks hurt and you hurry to explain that Yeah, of course you did and you can’t stop grinning at this amazing, surprising, insane little person. I’m Bucky you say and offer your hand.

Steve. Steve Rogers says the little guy as he shakes your hand and you’re in love.

  So after that, you and Steve become inseperable. Of course you are, because Steve is like a very skinny Zorro. That part worries you a lot, actually, ever since you saw Steve have an asthma attack for the first time. You know that Steve’s father is dead and that his mother is a nurse, so she can probably help, but you still want to be of help too. Steve is your best friend and you don’t want to see him hurt.

So you start trying to protect Steve - you fight his battles for him, you keep him away from things that can trigger any of his illnesses, you always ask if he’s okay.

You do this until Steve yells at you to stop treating him like a baby. You have a huge fallout about it and don’t talk for a week, until you show up at Steve’s door and take him to Coney Island and ride the Cyclone with him. He throws up and laughs.

  Then the Depression hits and everything goes to hell. You are one of the lucky ones - your father still has a job - but all the optimism and abundance you grew up with is gone. It’s tougher, it’s rougher, but it’s okay. You still have Steve by your side and that’s all that matters.

As you grow up, you start getting worried again. The bullies Steve fights are getting bigger and stronger, but Steve is still the same little guy he’s always been. You remember your only big argument and device a new strategy: you step in when Steve is beat and quickly take care of the bullies for him and don’t act like it’s a big deal. You train yourself to not show your concern and worry as you help Steve to his feet, and in time you get really good at it.

You also get real good at fighting dirty and taking out multiple fellas quickly.

Girls start to become insteresting as well. (Boys too, but you don’t talk about that.) They still have nothing on Steve, but it’s fun to take girls out. Especially when Steve comes with. You honestly don’t understand how they are not throwing themselves at Steve while at the same time you’re guiltily glad that Steve is still yours alone. (You want him to always be.)

  Then Steve’s mother dies. It takes a while to convince him, but eventually you and Steve move in together in a miniscule apartment of your own. It’s cheap, which is the important thing, because you need the money for Steve’s medicine and art classes. The neighbourhood might not be the best but you don’t care.

You work as much as you can manage to provide for the both of you. Steve is doing his part, of course, but you know that he might get sick at any time and you need to have enough saved away to manage when that happens. You still don’t mind - you are living with Steve, the two of you have your own place, you have a job. It’s good, it’s real good.

Can you imagine that? Can you imagine that being your life? Can you imagine meeting someone before you’re even a decade old and just knowing that yes, that is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, that one? Can you imagine your life being so entangled with that person that you can’t imagine it without them? Can you imagine loving someone this much?

I’m sorry, I don’t even know if this is meta or fic or headcanon. I just had to write it out because it was tearing me apart. Now if you excuse me, I need to go and bawl my eyes out.

Bucky Barnes is the best.

(Now has a sequel!)

Sebastian Stan on GMA featuring Anthony Mackie (x)

Prep him.

I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry at all. 

GIVE ME THEIR AMBIGUOUSLY GAY BUDDY COP MOVIE AND GIVE IT TO ME NOW. 

CARE BIRD STAAAAARE~