Q: Rogers and romanoff!!!! Pweaseeeeeeeee (◕‿◕✿)
I like this PAIR^a^
[on diversity in media] I think its social responsibility. I think it’s our responsibility to stand up and say what we want. It think if you look at television in the past two years, it’s becoming the decade of the female. Like, all these new shows with female leads. Even if you look at television, as well as cable, as well as films, there’s been a resurgence, as far as the leading woman in Hollywood, which is great. And I think we’re also at the point now…you know, it’s interesting…x
ok but i’d like to point your attention to this picture of anthony mackie
Imagine everyone realizes how handy Bucky’s bionic arm is (and how much he enjoys being handy), and they start getting his help with everything.It starts when Natasha needs some help rearranging some heavy equipment and no one else is around; she asks him and not only does he happily agree to help, but while they’re at it, she sees in his face and body language just how much he appreciates not only being useful and wanted for company, but also getting to put his built-in weapon to use for something entirely benign.So after that, she starts finding other things to ask for his help with (most of them she could totally do herself, some of them she pretty much manufactures, but she also happens to enjoy his company so she figures it’s a win-win), but it’s not long before she starts running out of legitimate activities and starts turning down the road of the slightly nonsensical (she doesn’t actually need the help of super strength and a bionic arm to carry laundry down the stairs).It is around this point that other people (read: Clint and Sam) first catch on to what is happening and join in. It’s not long before absolutely everyone is getting his help with things any time he’s around — some of them are activities for which the extra strength is genuinely beneficial (under-fridge floor cleanings reach an all-time high), most of them range from the mundane (he opens about 50 pickle jars one month - no one’s actually sure who’s eating all the pickles) to the ludicrous (who needs a ladder when the Winter Soldier can just toss you up to the roof) to basically just doing scientific research (it turns out former assassins with metal arms and pinpoint aim can in fact throw arrows and hit the bullseye from 200 feet).He makes a good show of snarking about it, especially when it gets truly ridiculous (“Are cars not designed to move on their own anymore?” — “I don’t think a gallon of milk is actually that heavy” — “Iron Man can’t open a beer bottle?” — “I was an assassin, not a can opener”), but everyone knows he secretly loves it (especially when he gets to show off… or one-up Steve Rogers).
There may come a time when I don’t reblog this post but that day is not this day.
my icon’s sebastian stan but then i ended up drawing various stages of post-catws bucky in lingerie
"you bought what?" steve demands. he hopes no one notices his ears burning, even if he suddenly has to lean forward to put his elbows on his knees.
"it’s the twenty first century," tony says, setting a tiny pink gift bag on the coffee table next to bucky, "think of it as an introduction to the modern age." he points at steve. "remind me. did they have positions other than the missionary back in the day?"
"do you have a death wish," bucky asks, but it’s such a flat intonation that it doesn’t sound like a question at all.
"you sure you don’t want to model for us?" tony asks.
"i don’t want to be in this room," bruce announces, and leaves.
bucky crumples up the bag with his metal hand and throws it hard at tony’s face.
steve’s going through the last of some paperwork on his tablet computer in bed when the bathroom door opens. Steve glances up, looks back down at his tablet again—and then.
"bucky," steve says, staring.
bucky licks his lips, tucking a thumb underneath the waistband so that it slides a little down his hip, revealing more of the hair leading down to where his cock is clearly outlined under the lacy fabric. the panties are the only thing that he’s wearing—dark against the pale skin of his upper thigh.
"um," steve says intelligently.
bucky smiles a little then, advances on him. he crawls up the bed until he’s inches away from steve’s face, the tiny smile turning into a full blown feral grin. he leans in and breathes against steve’s ear: “don’t think i didn’t notice your reaction.”
"uh," steve agrees articulately. his hands can’t help themselves, his palms slide over the lace covering bucky’s ass before squeezing lightly. bucky makes this soft, surprised noise and any coherent thought that steve might have been attempting to formulate evaporates away entirely.
"let’s ruin them," bucky says against steve’s neck.
three weeks later, natasha knocks on steve’s door in the middle of breakfast. steve’s hair is still sticking up from sleep and bucky’s eating cereal with an array of knives waiting to be sharpened spread around him.
"this came for you," natasha says, handing steve a box, "i’m not going to ask."
steve looks down at the box from victoria’s secret and wants to die.
bucky shoves a spoonful of cheerios into his mouth and just smirks.