I sketched this earlier on the year when I had bronchitis and because it’s now starting to get really cold but mostly because I just wanted an excuse to draw Steve being taken care of while sick for once I went and colored it!
Also because I miss zeeewa’s cuddly colortful comfort drawings ;__;
Skinny de-serum’d Grumpy McGrumperson gettin’ cuddles~
(click pls! tumblr doesn’t do much for formatting)
Genderqueer/Genderfluid winterfalcons 8I
I wrote a little story about this which I will put beneath a read more so you can reblog without a big paragraph of my silly writing attached.
I’ve seen lots (and lots and lots) of Sam comforting/taking care of Bucky in this ship, and others even.
But listen, Sam is a person, he has good days and he has bad days too…
You know what would be really awesome and disturbing at the same time? Markiplier reading all those (x reader) fan fictions about him. How hilarious would that be?
You act like I haven’t seen EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM…
cODE RED CODE RED
I hate that I laughed at this
“Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there,” and another one appears. And dodges the downward sweep of claws, darting to the side, bouncing off the pentagram’s barriers, and tripping over the demon’s tail. “In the Vatican!” she cries out as she moves, using the State Farm Agent summoning charm to modify the situation as she was taught, and mentally thanking her trainer for expecting her to be fast enough to do it on the first incantation.
Most State Farm agents, when they run into trouble, have to get the customer to do the jingle a second time. That guy with the buffalo was lucky.
The magic takes hold, and she materializes in the aisle of St. Peter’s Basilica, still holding the demon by the tail, in the middle of Sunday morning Mass. The music clatters unprofessionally to a halt as laypeople, deacons, priests, monks, nuns, and the Pope all turn their attention to the surprised demon whose fifth course of dinner has turned, unaccountably, into a visit to one of his least favorite places on Earth.
There is chanting in Latin, and vaguely cross-shaped gestures, and clouds of incense, and the demon vanishes in a puff of smoke, whether from the efforts of the clergy or of his own volition no one can say. The Agent doesn’t wait, fleeing towards the doors and escaping in the confusion.
She gains the exit and walks, purposefully, toward Rome proper; there, she ducks into the nearest alley. A burner cell phone comes out of one of the less-used pockets of her purse, and she dials a number from memory.
“Allstate,” says a smooth masculine voice after three rings.
“State Farm,” she answers. “I’m calling in a favor.”
“Yeah?” Interest. “What sort?”
As she talks she’s pulling out her smartphone, keying an app that was activated by the summoning, and pulling up the policyholder data that enabled the incantation to work.
“Insurance fraud,” she said, and can almost hear teeth sharpening on the other end of the line. She gives him the name, the address, the policy number. “Someone needs some mayhem.”
“That’s my name,” the man says.
She smiles. “Someone needs all the mayhem.”
He chuckles. Slow. Evil. Even with the echoes of demonic laughter ringing in her ears, she’s impressed. “Don’t worry,” he says, almost purring.
“You’re in good hands.”
idk who keeps buying steve these ridiculous skintight underarmour tshirts but god fucking bless
He buys them himself - or he thinks he does. Somehow, the size that fit perfectly in the store, always turns out to be incredibly formfitting once he gets the shirts home. He’s starting to think he’s doing something wrong. Is he shrinking them in the wash? Is it just really humid out on the days he happens to buy these things? Do department stores in the future have some kind of shrink ray at the doors to force their customers to come back and keep buying more and more stupid shirts?
It amuses Sam to listen to Steve bitch and moan about the shirts. The guy looks fine in them, so Sam figures this is just Steve venting about nothing to let off steam. He mostly ignores it until he catches them in the act.
“What the hell?” he asks, planting both hands on his hips.
Barnes shoots him a toothy grin, one leg on the fire escape. He offers Sam a sharp salute and then he’s gone - they’re on the fifth floor, but someone Sam isn’t worried about the guy. Natasha pops her gum in Sam’s general direction as she finishes shoving Steve’s brand new shirts into a shopping bag.
It’s Victoria’s Secret, not Under Armor. The bag. Smooth, Sam admits to himself.
She scoops a pile of equally new shirts - all in the exact color and style as the ones Sam has just spent the better part of an afternoon watching Steve buy (after checking the sizes six times) - and drops them into Steve’s dresser drawer.
“That is devious,” Sam says. “And mean. And expensive. Those shirts are like forty-five bucks each. Aren’t you unemployed?”
"Stark likes a good joke,” Natasha says, shutting the dresser drawer with her hip. She wraps the Victoria Secret bag around her wrist and strolls toward the door. “He gave me an expense account.”
“And Barnes?”
“Delivery,” Natasha says, like it’s obvious. “If I’m with Steve all day, then there’s no way I could be responsible for this.”
“You all suck,” Sam says. “Do you know how much time I have spent listening to him complain just in case it was some precursor to a PTSD-related - I have been to the Under Armour store four times this week. I hate all of you.”
"Uh-huh. Stark said if you caught us I was supposed to tell you that your new wings are ready.”
“Hate is a very strong word.”
“And there’s a little wiggle room in the expense account.” Natasha waved a credit card so black it probably had its own mass.
“I am easily bought, aren’t I?”
Natasha snorted. “Not as easy as Barnes. He’s in it for shits and giggles.”
“Yeah?” Sam gestured for her to go through the door first. He had the sudden urge to keep her where he could see her. “And you and Stark?”
“We just like seeing Steve in tight shirts.”
Welp. I guess I’m in Bucky has a nice day mood. Afer hairdresser. Steve is pro at selfies obvsly.
horrible doodle animation because i have no time D”: I’m ashamed#i 100% believe this is how they got Dean back into the room
The number of art involving tonykitty (or Tony with kitty parts) is getting alarming.
(/OAO)/ I am museless
(how to simple perspective?)