sgt-buckys-eyeliner:

werewarg:

alwayslabellavita:

werewarg:

carryonmy-assbutt:

lost-princess-of-mirkwood:

Wait, is this…? I had never noticed this

realisation of Steve not needing his help anymore

was this really necessary

It’s also Bucky being more than a little upset that they turned his gentle, harmless friend—who Bucky wanted to PROTECT from the horrors of war—into a fighting machine.

was that really necessary

First of all, how dare you.

(Source: maria-sokoli)

lillyjkforreal:

Prompt fill for wanderingbark

wanderingbark said: Clint/Coulson why did coulson stop wearing cologne?

Let me preface this by saying that I once dated I guy who wore Creed cologne. It is insanely expensive but smells like every man should smell.

***

At first, he assumes that Coulson’s just had a rushed morning and didn’t have time to go through his normal routine. It’s been known to happen, even to the ever unflappable Agent Coulson. So, when Clint leans over Coulson’s shoulder to snag a pen and doesn’t smell the familiar woodsy musk of expensive cologne, it doesn’t really register. Coulson still smells good, like soap and a hint of sweat.

He chalks it up to a one-time thing and signs off on whatever form Coulson’s grumbling about and goes on his way.

The next day Coulson’s cologne is MIA again. Clint notices when he leans in close enough to pick an imaginary piece of lint off Coulson’s shoulder. “You in a hurry this morning, Sir?”

"It’s two in the afternoon."

"No, uh I meant…" Clint can think of no good way to ask what happened to Coulson’s cologne without sounding like a weird stalker type. "Never mind."

Coulson just gives him one of those little, “you’re an idiot” half-smiles and Clint beats a hasty retreat down the hall.

After the fourth day of no cologne, Clint’s starting to think Coulson ran out and hasn’t had time to pick up more. He’s a busy guy, after all, and cologne shopping is probably not high on his list of priorities. Even though it should be, because the scent of it is a little like catnip to Clint. Coulson has worn the same scent as long as Clint has known him and it’s familiar and comforting. Clint really misses that cologne.

The next day is Saturday and Clint finds himself wandering through a department store (ok, he spends an entire day going store to store) trying to track down what brand of cologne Coulson wears. He’s about to give up and just break into Coulson’s apartment to see if he can find the empty bottle in the trash when he finds it at the sixth store.

This is the store where where the sales lady looks at him like he’s something she scraped off his shoe. He can tell she’s losing patience with his, “I need to smell everything shtick” when he finds it. It’s ungodly expensive, which doesn’t really suprise him considering what Coulson must spend on his suits.

Clint buys the big bottle, and thank god SHIELD pays well because otherwise his bank account would be taking a big hit. He has her wrap it up in an ostentatious little gift box because hey, he’s going to leave it anonymously on Coulson’s desk so why not make it look pretty.

On Monday morning he creeps into Coulson’s office through the air shaft and leaves the package dead center in the middle of the desk. He makes himself scarce for the rest of the day just in case he looks like the kind of guy to leave anonymous gifts on a co-worker’s desk. Which, by the way, he totally is. Only it’s usually things like half-eaten apples or realistic looking fake spiders that he leaves as little “welcome to SHIELD” gifts for newbies.

Not things like $800 cologne.

On Tuesday he waits until just after 9 AM to saunter into Coulson’s office. He’s carrying two cups of coffee because he needs an excuse to lean in close and hand it off to Coulson so he can get a whiff. Of absolutely no cologne.

He grits his teeth and swears he’s not going to say a word but five seconds after that he slams his coffee down on Coulson’s desk so hard that about half of it sloshes over the edge.

Coukson scowls down at a pile of ruined paperwork. “What the hell, Barton?”

Clint reaches across the desk and grabs Coulson’s tie, using it to jerk the other man closer. “Why the fuck aren’t you wearing your cologne anymore, Sir?” And yeah, that’s as creepy sounding out loud as it’s been in his head.

Coulson’s eyes go wide. “That was you?”

"Yeah, Sir. And now I want to know why you’re not wearing it." A horrible thought crosses his mind. "You have a new girlfriend that doesn’t like it?"

Coulson smirks at him then, and leans so far over the desk that his mouth is right next to Clint’s ear. “My niece has been staying with me, looking at colleges. She’s allergic, Barton.” His lips brush across the side of Clint’s neck. “But she’s going home today.”

"Yeah?" Clint whispers, his hand fisting in Coulson’s tie. His head falls back, baring his neck to Coulson’s mouth.

"Yeah. In fact, you can come over tonight and help me break in the new bottle."

***

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