#samtember2024

[heyitsyav]

IT'S SAMTEMBER B*TCHES

[katatonicimpression]

Samtember Day 3 - Costume

Freewheelin' Falcon, 1977

@samsseptember

[siancore]

Samtember Day 3 - Costume

I love how scant the original Falcon costume was, and came up with this version. I think Sam in thigh-high red fishnets is neat.

@samsseptember

[samsseptember]

Samtember 2024 Calendar, Rules, and Guidelines!

Hi, Sam Wilson Nation! It’s that time of year again when we all get together to celebrate our beloved Sam Wilson’s birth month. That’s right, it’s ✰Samtember2024✰ !!!

As per usual, the event will be running from Friday, September 1st to Saturday, September 30th and there will be prompts set for each day:

Week 1:

Day 1 - Free Space

Day 2 - Bird Telepathy

Day 3 - Costume

Day 4 - Crossover/Multiverse

Day 5 - Canon Divergence

Day 6 - Hurt/Comfort

Day 7 - Future Fic

Week 2:

Day 8 - On Your Left

Day 9 - Move Your Seat Up

Day 10 - I Never Said Pilot

Day 11 - The Big Three

Day 12 - When Do We Start?

Day 13 - Man, Shut the Hell Up

Day 14 - Moon Stuff

Week 3:

Day 15 - Cap Quartet

Day 16 - Redwing

Day 17 - Mission Fic

Day 18 - Shield

Day 19 - Wakanda

Day 20 - Undercover

Day 21 - Co-Pilots

Week 4 + 2 Days:

Day 22 - Cookout / Boil

Day 23 - Birthday

Day 24 - Fishing

Day 25 - Louisiana

Day 26 - Lovers

Day 27 - The Paul & Darlene

Day 28 - Slice of Life

Day 29 - Wilson Family

Day 30 - Home

We will open a collection on AO3 soon. We will update this when the collection is ready, but when it is you'll also be able to find it by typing samtember2024 in the add to collections option.

You can also tag any works you post with #samtember2024 or tag this blog @samsseptember. Works will be reblogged every day throughout the month. 

What works count for this fan event?

Any of the following count:

fanfic

podfic

fanart

gifsets

photosets / moodboards / collages

graphics

Haikus

videos / edits

playlists

fic rec lists

comments

Whichever way you want to celebrate Sam Wilson, it’s up to you! 

The rest of the FAQ and rules are under the cut.

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a Sam Wilson fan event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all. Fill one prompt. Fill all the prompts on for the month. Do however many you please.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all 30 prompts at once with one piece of art or fic. If you can fill every single prompt from every single day in one fill, that’d be wild but it’s okay by the rules. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Should the work I make be Sam Wilson-centric?

Yes. You can make a gen work or a piece with any ship with Sam Wilson in it, but the main focus should be Sam Wilson.

How long will this event run?

It will run from September 1st to September 30th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There will be! They will come out daily.

Do I have to post my fic for the prompt on the day of the prompt?

You can if you’d like, but it’s okay if you post a piece on a day other than the day of the prompt.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the event?

For Everyone:

1. Remember to tag @samsseptember in the post as well as #samtember2024.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to Samtember 2024 Collection that you can find here.

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least three fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to all your wonderful works! ✰

[glittercake]

For Samtember Day 3: 'Costume' @samsseptember

“How long’s this going to take? Let me speak to Ayo.”

On his end of the line, Sam snorts, then does a quick scan of the workshop to see which Wakandan saw him smiling at his boyfriend this time. Okoye had already drawn an incredibly immature picture of Sam and Bucky and pinned it to the notice board in the palace foyer.

“Ayo doesn’t want to speak to you,” Sam says. He rotates his arm along with the hologram. It beeps a few times and records his biceps measurement, then moves to his chest. “Besides, it’s nice here. I ain’t in a rush.”

Bucky groans. Sam laughs again. “Yeah, you’re not. I’m dying over here.”

“Because you gotta work with Torres? Grow up, Buck.”

“He’s alright. No, I’m—”

“Before you say that, remember you’re calling on Wakandan tech, and if Aneka calls me Captain Lovey Pants one more time, I’m breaking up with you.”

This time, instead of complaining, Bucky cackles. It goes on for a few seconds. And yeah, Sam’s smiling again, all to himself.

“Stop,” he says fondly, listens to Bucky laughing on the other end. So maybe he lied. Maybe he could rush a little to get home. Maybe he misses this idiot just a little. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if they tossed this new suit through a speed cycle and threw him on a jet back home tonight.

“If you laugh, Captain, your chest expands and corrupts the reading,” Lerato tells him when she restarts the measurement. Again.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” Sam holds still, bites back a laugh. “You’re getting me in trouble, man. I gotta go.”

“Yeah, alright. Gotta get started on my dinner for one, anyway.”

“You’ll be fine, baby. I’ll send an update later.”

“Later, sweetheart.”

“Cheers, Buck.”

“Finally. My ears can not stand another second of that.” Ayo has come to check on the suit’s progress and gives Sam a sideways look.

Sam sighs. “Of course you heard.”

“It’s custom here to give the new leaders as much grief as possible—this is looking good. Any requests? James sent a list, but it went missing. Strange, hm?” A smirk plays around her mouth.

Sam smiles. Bucky is still very much banned from Wakanda despite his letter of apology. “Yeah, if it’s anything like his shopping lists, that’s a good thing. Uh. Just one request, really.”

Ayo fiddles with the inputs and projections and slides a few specs around. “I can not turn Redwing into an actual bird, Samuel. We talked about this.”

“That’s what you claim, yeah, and I’m gonna keep asking, but no, not that.”

She gives him a suspicious look. Probably because whatever is upgradable on this suit has been upgraded, it even has an unimaginable amount of secret pockets and he won’t admit it out loud but he’s using those for lube and condoms and gum and there is nothing the Kingdom of Wakanda can do about it.

“Alright, the suit’s a little loose in the back. That’s all.”

“In the back? Samuweli, uthetha ngantoni?”

“You know. Part of this gig is the image. I gotta look good.” He motions vaguely to his ass. “This just needs to be a little… tighter.”

Ayo stares at him, then blinks. “That old man has got you good, doesn’t he?”

“Hey, I see how you look at Aneka. Yesterday she mentioned peaches and what did you do last night—” Ayo groans, rolls her eyes. “—no, tell me what you did last night!”

Her mouth twitches, but she schools her expression, points at him. “Wena. You are on thin ice.”

“You baked her a whole peach pie, that’s what. You feel me?”

“She likes pie,” Ayo says with a soft little sparkle behind her eyes, regarding Sam for a moment before returning to the monitors. “Fine. Tighter in the back.” She fiddles with two of the measurements on the suit hologram, then presses Enter.

Sam gives her his best grin when the machine circles down to his hips. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Ayo gathers her spear and clipboard. “We are hosting a few Ghanaian warriors tomorrow night. They would love to meet you. Wear the new suit.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I guess ‘Captain Lovey Pants’ has a whole new meaning now, eh?” Sam groans, and Ayo throws her head back and laughs and then some on her way out of the workshop.

The scanner zips into motion, and within seconds, the material tightens around his glutes, squeezing.

“Uh, Lerato! Ayo? Not this tight!”

“Hm,” Lerato says, titling her head and peeking around at Sam’s behind, smiles then shrugs. “I don’t see the problem, Captain. Didn’t you say it’s all about the image?”

“Ugh, I did.” Sam regrets everything. These folks are relentless.

“Well,” Lerato says, a sneaky, mischievous look in her eyes. “This is quite the image.”

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Hello, Stranger

Hey, people! This is for @samsseptember's Samtember 2024 event for the prompt "Canon Divergence"! It's also the first of two Choose Your Own Adventure fics I've made for the event. Thank you @runzu for making sure the game ran smoothly and thank you, @katatonicimpression, for the magnificent art. Enjoy!

Hello, Stranger

|Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: M | WC: N/A |

Summary: A Choose Your Own Adventure tale where Sam Wilson goes back home to be there for the birth of his second nephew, AJ. Bucky may or may not be tagging along.

Excerpt:

Sam Wilson walked through the streets of London, watching the jarring mix of new and old; buildings hundreds of years old and newly created; wide gridded streets and narrow, winding alleyways. Sam had been to many cities in his search for Bucky Barnes. Well. He had been to many cities as he visited Bucky Barnes, really. Sam found him the first time around. Lounging in a hole in the wall deep in the heart of Prague. Low lighting; his face only lit really by a candle on the small booth he sat at. Intense eyes on Sam. Sipping on something Bucky would later say was a Czech Mule; a fascinating cocktail that tasted like Christmas. Bucky hadn't been ready for Steve to know where he was then. Sam doubted he was now. And. Sam was a little selfish. He liked his days with Bucky. He liked talking with him. He like - he liked getting to know the man. And there was part of Sam that just wanted to keep it that way. A little bubble. Only for Sam and Bucky.

START THE GAME!

[ghost-sin]

“🩹ouch”

+ Hobie

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2

[tllgrrl]

The Favor by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Sam touched the biometric pad on the case, and heard three soft clicks.

[“I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”]

The last time he was in Wakanda, he was on a battlefield just outside Birnin Zana: The Golden City.

He and his friends were fighting to save…everybody…everywhere…but before the battle he’d gotten a glimpse of the Blackest nation he’d ever seen.

A nation that had never been touched by colonization.

Sam also saw technology he’d thought only existed in Sci-fi movies and books…or maybe in Tokyo…but even more advanced than that.

T’Challa introduced him to General Okoye, leader of the elite Royal Guard known as the Dora Milaje.

Sam was also briefly reunited with Steve’s friend Bucky Barnes, who Steve had taken to Wakanda to see if they had the technological wherewithal to remove HYDRA’s super-assassin programming from his brain.

Apparently they did, they were successful, and two years later, there he was. With what looked to be a brand new arm, Bucky was joining the Wakandans and the Avengers in the fight against Thanos and his forces.

And Sam met T’Challa’s younger sister, Princess Shuri. A Black, teenage, African Princess tech genius who, with her team of scientists, doctors and engineers, freed the brain of mildly annoying, staring, grumpy supersoldier Barnes, who is now his “co-worker”.

(… and who is also now trying to aim those blue eyes of his at my baby sister!)

Shuri was also responsible for, among other things, developing the newest versions of T’Challa’s Vibranium-infused, nanotech, fighting suit.

[“I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”]

Sam thought about that battle. How it ended with half the universe, including him and Bucky, turning to ashes one minute, then waking up the next minute…

5 years later.

Like a film clip, images started speeding through his mind: Things he’d experienced, people he’d met, places he’d been from the moment he met Steve Rogers—as they both were doing their morning run around the reflecting pool at the Washington Monument in DC—to now.

All of that…ending up here, back in the house he grew up in, staring at this fancy, high-tech case.

[“I called in a favor from the Wakandans.” ]

(I’m actually gonna do…this.)

He opened the case and took a breath to steady himself.

There was a schematic on the inside of the case’s lid, and what almost looked like some kind of hieroglyphs. Sam couldn’t decipher it, but he immediately knew where it was from.

He lifted the piece of handwoven fabric that seemed to serve two purposes: beauty and function, as he could see metallic threads woven throughout the rich, surprisingly dense protective cloth.

The fabric had Vibranium woven into it, and under it there were three items:

A wing pack like his broken StarkTech one, but lighter in weight. By feel he immediately knew that these wings, like his shield, were made of virtually unbreakable Vibranium.

A neckpiece that was similar to the one he saw T’Challa wear, but not nearly as large, also far less traditional and ceremonial in design.

And inside a pouch made of the same fabric as the protective cloth, was a beautifully carved wooden box holding a bead bracelet like the kind worn by nearly everyone in Wakanda.

He also found a large envelope containing some official-looking paperwork, and a manual for the items in the case.

On the front of the envelope were Wakandan glyphs, and underneath them it read:

Samuel Wilson - Captain America

He read the opening paragraph of the manual, slipped the bead bracelet (called kimoyo) onto his left wrist as instructed…and shortly felt the beads lightly vibrate as his cellphone rang…

* * * * * * * * * *

Fan Fiction and Fan Art Submitted for the @samsseptember Samtember 2024: Day 3 -Costume, Day 19 - Wakanda. I honestly don’t know where this falls. It’s kind of about the costume but it is more about where and who it is from.

Happy Birthday Sam Wilson!

[sassysambucky]

Broil's Well That Ends Well

short shot | rated E | ~11k | sambucky | meet-cute | modern AU

A chance encounter and a bump on the head leads Bucky to take the leap and ask Sam, a very busy stranger, on a date. ˚ · .

Ao3 ->

Samtember Days 22 (cookout), 29 (wilson family), 30 (home) @samsseptember

[heyitsyav]

Samtember day 2 - Bird telepathy

[katatonicimpression]

Samtember Day 16 - Redwing

Best. Of. Friends.

@samsseptember

[siancore]

Samtember Day 2: Bird Telepathy

@samsseptember

Sam: Hey Buck, a little birdie literally told me you’ve got a crush on me. Wanna explain?

Bucky: Nah, don’t wanna explain, but very happy to makeout about it.

[samsseptember]

Hi friends! We're only fifteen days away from ☆Samtember 2024☆!!!

If you need a quick refresher of the prompts, you can find the full event calendar here. We also have the AO3 collection up and running, and you can find it here.

*To add your works once the event starts, simply type in Samtember 2024 under [Add to collection]

[sarifinasnightmare]

Birds of a Feather

Author: Sarifinasnightmare

Rating: E for everybody!

Warning: None applied.

Summary: Young Sam had been blessed with bird speech. One stormy day it comes in handy when he receives a guest.

Notes: This is for @samsseptember. Sorry for the lateness, but I've been so busy and now I'm sick, but I wanted to support Sam Wilson.

_______________________----

One day Darlene left the window open to baby Sam’s nursery and found a barn owl perched on his crib. From her vantage point she could see her baby cooing up at the creature, smiling at it so she knew he wasn’t in any danger. The owl’s white heart-shaped face seemed to study Sam with great interest as if pondering his existence. Coming to a decision, the owl tossed its head before flapping its wings, blowing a current of air towards Sam. He crowed in surprise, kicking his legs and extending his arms as if receiving something. Darlene took a step forward and that was warning enough for the owl, who screeched at her before taking off through the window. Picking her baby up, she quickly examined him and found nothing amiss, then went to shut the window. She later talked about the incident to some friends at the hair salon. One of the oldest of the customers piped up.

“Them vodun think an owl brings the blessing of wealth, but the natives say they bring foresight.”

“Foresight?”

“Um-hm, you can sense things before they come, but maybe not. Owls are funny creatures. You got him baptized right?”

No one really paid attention to her words. Barn owls made their homes wherever they could cram themselves in, so it might’ve been a coincidence and soon the incident was forgotten.

_________________________---

Sam liked birds, or to be more specific, birds liked Sam.

Darlene and Paul had albums filled with pictures of him with a bird perched on his head at every age. He also had a habit of finding every injured bird on the property. The first time Darlene told him to throw it away little Sam burst into tears and begged her to help him save it. Unable to handle his big, sad brown eyes she eventually relented and soon took it to the vet to learn how to nurse the pathetic thing back to health.

Over time, Sam learned how to take care of them, and he’d have a shoe box or two containing a sparrow or a purple martin or woodpecker. Darlene and Paul could hear him talk to the little creatures, have full on conversations with them, but they just shrugged their shoulders and assumed he had an active imagination.

One day when he was thirteen during a particular bad winter storm, he had foolishly opened the window because he heard a sound and a peregrine falcon nearly bowled him over, flew itself straight into his room and perched on the old wooden chair by his desk.

Ten-year-old Sarah ran to check on him and yelped when she saw the bedraggled raptor flapping its wings wildly-there was something stuck on it.

“No, no! Stop screaming, the both of you!” He ordered them. Sarah immediately stopped and surprisingly so did the bird. Approaching the creature, he tenderly extended his hands out and coaxed his wings down. “You’re inside now. The storm can’t get you.” He reassured it, stroking the feathers, noticing the sticky fly paper that was enmeshed in them. “You’re confused about where you are, aren’t you? Storm blew you off course.”

The falcon blinked and lowered its head, exhausted.

“How’d you do that?” Sarah asked in awe. “You always know how to calm them down.”

Sam sighed like an old man. From the moment he could talk he’d explained to anyone who would listen that he knew what to do with the birds because they talked back. Birds came to him because they knew from other birds that the little human in the blue house by the lake could understand them. However, his family did not believe he was being literal and just thought he had a knack for birds. It was frustrating but it was probably for the best. The Wilsons have been known to run a joke into the ground, like the time his Uncle Winton who drank himself blind on his anniversary and crapped his pants. He still received the occasional brown pants for Christmas or birthday. Therefore, Sam stopped telling people that he could hear the birds and just let it be known as his special little talent.

“I just do. He’s in pain. Think you could run down and get the cardboard box in the kitchen?”

His sister eagerly ran down to get it and together they made a nest for the falcon while the storm raged outside. Sticky paper was a new problem, and the falcon complained that it would’ve dodged it had it not been for the winds that tossed it in his direction. The substance was thick and viscous, yanking his wings painfully. First thing he did was cut what he could off, making sure to be careful around the feathers.

“We need vegetable oil to get the residue off.” He mused.

Paul, hearing the commotion, went upstairs and found his children fussing over a raptor in the bathtub, carefully pouring drops of oil over the creature and gently peeling bits of tape off it.

“What in the world? What the hell is that?” He asked.

The raptor answered for himself, screeching in indignation before Sam interrupted. “It’s a falcon with sticky tape on it. I’m getting it off.”

Paul had seen his son rescue dozens of birds, and it always amazed him how good he was with them. This bird, however, had sharp claws and seemed the biting type. “Is he safe, son?”

Sam shrugged. “He’s grouchy but he’s letting us clean him up. He’ll leave after he’s dried and the storm passes. Do you think you could give me a little plate of raw beef?”

“Let’s see if your mother feels generous.” Paul replied, deciding his son had everything under control.

Darlene had been busy cooking and talking to friends, but didn’t bat an eye at the shenanigans going on. She just cut a few slices of frozen venison from her husband’s last hunting trip and passed it on to feed their temporary houseguest.

Sam allowed it to defrost as they washed and blotted the falcon, then used a pair of scissors to feed him the sliced meat. Sarah watched with great fascination.

“Ew, why does it have to be raw?” She asked.

“Because birds eat their food raw, it’s normal for them.” Sam explained. “Their bodies can’t handle all the spices and seasoning we put in our food. It would make them sick.”

“A life without spices sounds awful.” She mused aloud.

“Birds don’t have many taste buds so they wouldn’t taste much unless it was very strong.” He explained.

“They can’t taste stuff!” She gasped. “That sucks!”

The falcon gave her an offended look and screeched at her.

Sarah was startled. “Sorry!”

After feeding the raptor, their mother called them down for an early dinner, wanting to eat while the lights were still on, and the food was hot. Good thing too, because no sooner were the dishes in the sink, the lights flickered and shuddered before blinking out. Sam had to wash by flashlight, but did his best before tramping up to his room. His sister had had her fill of the falcon and decided to sequester herself in her room, not much liking the thunder and lightning.

Making sure she was snug tight, he prepared himself for bed still using his trusty flashlight. Settling himself on his bed he peered at the falcon resting peacefully in his box.

The bird blinked at him. Your sister is loud.

Sam shrugged. “Sorry, she’s ten. She only has one volume.”

Fledglings are loud too until they grow up and learn to be quiet and listen.

“Not everyone listens.” Sam interjected. “Adults don’t listen to us kids or to anyone sometimes.”

Humans are smart, but arrogant and fragile, very easy to break. Being a flyer is better. We live, we eat, we hunt, we breed. If we must fight, we fight, but if we die, we die. Understandable. That is life.

“But you didn’t want to die.”

Only because I knew you were near. Had I been alone, I would’ve accepted my fate.

“Well I’m glad you’re not dead. Birds like you make the world pretty.”

The falcon cocked its head. Pretty?

“Nice to look at? When you look at something or someone and it makes you happy then it’s pretty.”

No such word for pretty amongst flyers.

Sam frowned. “How do you pick a mate then?”

If she is healthy and biddable, she could be a mate.

“What about a tree? Don’t you want a pretty tree to build a nest?”

A tree must be strong, it doesn't need to be pretty.

“Oh well, when I see you guys fly up in the sky and do all those aerial maneuvers, I think that’s really pretty.”

I enjoy moving through the air. Do you find that pretty?

The boy nodded.

The bird cocked his head the other side and fluffed his chest feathers. I am pretty. He mused, tasting the word.

Sam bunched his pillow underneath him and stared out into the dying storm outside. “I wish I could fly, but fly like you do, without fear.”

I’ve seen humans in those solid things fly much higher than me.

“I guess that’s flying, but to really fly, with the air in your face, swooping and diving. That would be so cool.”

Flapping his wings a little, the falcon replied. To do that you need to follow your intuition. All us flyers learn to listen to the wind, heed the change and act accordingly. It takes great skill to do what we do.

Sam reached out and caressed a wing. “Maybe I’ll join the Air Force and learn to fly.”

Then let me give you a gift should you reach the skies. Come close to me, friend.

The boy didn’t hesitate and soon he lowered his head until their faces touched. A warmth pressed against his forehead that made him feel good, then the bird withdrew.

Should you get your wings, friend, then fly like my kin.

“Thank you.” He replied kindly.

The storm softened enough to lull them both to sleep and by the next day they awoke to some mild flooding, but the electricity came back.

Sam and Sarah carefully carried the falcon to their private dock, wearing their rain boots to wade through the muddy water. Paul kept a careful eye on his children as Sam carefully lifted the bird from the box.

“Have a nice life and thanks for the visit.” He murmured to his feathered friend.

The falcon allowed Sarah one gentle stroke over its back before flapping his wings and swiftly catching air, taking off into the bright morning sky.

They stared at it until the raptor was just a little speck in the distance.

“Hey sis, I’m thinking of joining the Air Force. What you think?” He mused aloud.

Sarah paused. “You want to fly, dontcha?”

He smiled. “Yeah, why not?”

“I want to fly too!” She threw out her arms and started to run, jumping onto the watery path and back to their daddy’s side.

He patiently followed behind her.

___________________----

Several decades later.

Sam was taking a well-deserved break from being Captain America. Currently, he had his magnificent wings stretched out in the garage giving them some much needed detailing.

Sarah strolled in and admired the grace, beauty and power of them. “Hey Uncle Sam, got a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, glancing up briefly from his cleaning.

“I know you’re on vacation, but the neighbors called asking if you still took care of sick birds. Got one that’s all tied in fishing lines.”

He straightened up. “Sure of course. Tell them to bring it in.”

She grinned. “Always ready to save the day.”

“Absolutely.” It was the least he could do. After all, they gave him great blessings. Only right to return the favor.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Winding Roads

This is for @runzu for their birthday! Happy belated birthday present 🤣 This is also for @samsseptember's Samtember 2024 event for the "Free Space" prompt. This is also also a sequel to the fic Moonshine. Enjoy! 🥰

Winding Roads

| Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: M | WC: 4.8K |

Summary: Sam Wilson has been dating one of the getaway drivers his family's moonshine business hires, one Bucky Barnes, for a little over a year now.

Excerpt:

“You know, you’ll probably be out of a job soon too,” said Sam, not helping anything, “I heard as soon as the end of the year, prohibition will be a bust.” Bucky laughed. “Why’d you have to bring that up?” “We’re opening up. I’m just saying. At least I’ve got investments in clubs, but don’t look to me as your sugar daddy if the work isn’t there,” laughed Sam, “You got to diversify your skills now while you can, Buck.” “For your information, I’ll just be out of an under the table job. Could be transporting goods and services with a license,” said Bucky with a wink, “But enough about some loathsome void coupons and some takesy backsies, I’d rather focus on you.” Sam couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Me, huh?” asked Sam playfully. “I’ve been climbing the walls all week stuck in backs of speakeasies because your brother feels like I can’t do my job,” said Bucky, rolling his eyes, “Stuck with nothing to do with my time as I waited for our weekly appointment. I was practically cutting out paper dolls as I waited for tonight.”

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[incrediblygrassy]

Samtember Day 1: Free Space

Sam Wilson was going to die.

He wasn't on the ground in some abandoned wear house bleeding out. He wasn't in an ambulance as his heart stops. He wasn't turning blue in the arms of some maniac.

He was starting into the furious eyes of his sister.

He may or may not have backed into the porch.

Sam Wilson was going to die.