#the one and only sam wilson

[notcryingtoday]

me : i'm never going to watch a marvel's movie again, they ruined it for me

but what about deadpool and wolverine ?

me : deadpool doesn't count, it's more x-men than avengers

but what about the new captain america ?

me : sam wilson is a valid reason to watch it, even if it's shit anthony mackie will somehow make it good

but what about thunderbolts ?

me : DON'T BRING SEBASTIAN STAN AND FLORENCE PUGH INTO THIS

[generallyjl]

truly a game changer episode of all time

[artgroves]

Steve Rogers Learns to Fly by @gutterandthestars

[logicheartsoul]

Closeups of Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes Staring at the Other from Deleted Scenes from the trailers of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

It is going to be very weird and interesting to see bucky without his emotional support captain americas

[wenellyb]

The only way to upgrade an already iconic duo is to add Winston Duke into the mix

[liquorwrist]

Sam Wilson coming back from the dead after 5 years and his best friend immediately dies and leaves him with the pressure of being the America’s icon:

[thankstothe]

lines

[thatmexisaurusrex]

🛏 - Only One Bed for the microfic ask. Please and thank you.

Ooh, good choice! 🥰

Only One Bed

"Uh," said Bucky as he stared at what was definitely just one bed, "I was pretty sure there were two beds in this safe house."

They had been through it.

One of the most physically intensive missions he and Sam had been on. Bucky was tired. He had no clue how Sam was still on his feet.

"Whatever," said Sam as he kicked off his socks and flopped onto the bed, "It's fine. We can share for the night."

Bucky - Bucky might have been staring as Sam wriggled out of his jeans and basically wiggled enough until he was under the covers. Which wasn't exactly a strange thing for Bucky to do. Bucky stared at Sam all the time.

But still.

"Are you going to act like Edward Cullen and watch me sleep or are you joining me?" yawned Sam from the bed.

And.

And Bucky said, "I don't even know what that means," before he swiftly dressed down to his boxers and crashed into bed next to Sam.

The bed wasn't built for two men of their sizes. Sam didn't seem to mind, though. He simply tangled himself in Bucky, settling in comfortably with a contented sigh.

"Finally," mumbled Sam, "Now. Go to bed."

At first, Bucky wasn't sure if he could go to bed like this. So close to Sam. The way he could feel Sam's heartbeat on his skin.

But.

But it was nice. He felt all his muscles relaxing. He felt so comfortable tangled like this with Sam. And he was so tired.

Bucky closed his eyes, letting himself drift to sleep with Sam in his arms.

[mademoisellefantasy]

" There has never been another Steve Rogers,has there? " | Captain Ameri...

Actually, this is soooo trueee!!!!!

As much as I like Sam Wilson as a character, it just wasn't the right decision for Marvel to replace Captain America. Maybe it makes sense in the comics where, because the storylines literally continue over decades, passing on the mantle of certain characters to others is narratively helpful and refreshing.

But in the MCU, it feels totally wrong. The whole point of Captain America being Steve and vice versa is that NO ONE ELSE had the moral integrity and strength of Steve Rogers. That's the reason he was chosen and no one else, no matter how great of a character they might be on their own right, could ever feel in his role.

Kinda how no one else is as brilliant, eccentric, and self-sacrificial as Tony Stark, thus no one but him can be Iron Man. I think that Steve and Tony were kinda supposed to be mirrors of each other, the one the heart and the other the brain of the Avengers. And so both should be irreplaceable.

I also think that it would have been much more honorable for Sam to accept that his old friend left a legacy behind that shouldn't be changed or affected by anyone (including himself), and go make his own arc focus on the future of America, symbolized by him AS THE FALCON.

In previous movies, because Steve (and Bucky, tbh) was always the main focus, we never got to see the full potential, backstory, motivations, etc. of the Falcon, just vague mentions. He was just a loyal friend and sidekick to Steve.

Imagine if the Falcon FINALLY had an arc that didn't center Steve Rogers, imagine if he was allowed to keep his core hero identity but also evolve in it. It would have been SO MUCH BETTER.

Additionally, I think that most of that passing on the mantle stuff, is just pandering to minorities, which in of itself isn't bad AT ALL, but they were SO LAZY about it in TFATWS.... Seriously, the script was mostly trash (apart from the more intimate Bucky and Sam interactions and Zemo's storyline), and it didn't allow Sam, the AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN THE WHOLE SERIES IS ABOUT!!!! to actually evolve in his own right and be a truly good protagonist.

Anyways, after TFATWS it became apparent to me that Marvel is no longer interested in good storytelling, character development, and representation. So, at least for me, Captain America in the MCU will forever only be Steve Rogers.

[imgonnagetkilledbynutstink]

i love comparisons between The B-52s and Greta Van Fleet sm

Fred Schneider and Josh Kiszka

Gay, play the tambourine and practically nothing else, sing kinda funny, front man, class clown

Ricky Wilson and Jake Kiszka

Guitarist, physical similarities, quiet one

Keith Strickland and Danny Wagner

Drummer, physical similarities, jock, hipster

Cindy Wilson and Sam Kiszka

Youngest, physical similarities, whimsical one

[phoenixyfriend]

I think that in Marvel AUs, Kix should get to be Falcon

[bisamwilson]

It’s about as cool as it gets in Louisiana most days—a brisk fifty-two—and Sam’s bundled up like he’s back in Washington, DC in the middle of January. 

All those years away from home, and he still never had managed to get used to the cold.

Bucky’s only in a slightly thicker leather jacket, lined with some kind of fleece, mostly because the boys had warned him to bundle up. Bucky’s sweating now, but Sam knows their earnestness in trying to keep him warm means he’ll keep the jacket on all night, the sheer amount of heat his body puts off like a furnace be damned. 

It’s become a nightly routine, these walks, first starting during warm, wet, and hazy summer nights and continuing on even now, when the sun dips past the horizon entirely too early each afternoon. They never stray far from home, walk mostly in laps near the house, but tonight, Sam takes Bucky’s hand and leads them out a little farther. 

The Christmas lights are out on all the houses Sam knows are going to put them up, and he’s feeling a little nostalgic. 

Nostalgic enough to wander over to the old house nearby that he’d absolutely adored as a child, now worn down and unlivable, marred by years of neglect and abandonment and storm damage. A years-old “for sale” sign sits in the yard, weather-worn and illegible. 

Sam stops just in front of the house—a tall, dark silhouette amidst all the bright red, green, and white lights around it—and smiles. 

“I was convinced I was gonna live in that house one day,” he says, a little wistful. “Slightly older couple owned it back then, a Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. You’d never seen two people so in love, maybe other than my own folks. They’d invite us over for dinner after church sometimes—said it was a thank you for a sermon well delivered—and Mrs. Jackson always had it decorated so lovingly. They didn’t have any children back then—never had any at all actually—so there was no one to leave it to, and I’d always hoped I’d be able to buy after they moved elsewhere, wherever that might have been.”

Sam sighs, shrugging his shoulders and running a hand over the overgrown fence. “I was already out of Delacroix when Mr. Jackson passed, about a year after his wife, and no one else ever picked it up. Now it looks like this.”

Bucky squeezes his hand and Sam takes that as a cue to turn away from the old house and to his boyfriend, swinging their intertwined palms as he pulls them forward again on their walk. 

“A shame,” he says as they walk away, “what it looks like now. Mrs. Jackson’d be heartbroken.”

Five months later, almost to the day, Bucky asks to go for a walk in the middle of the afternoon. 

It’s rainy, like it always is in May, and Sam gives him a strange look while he gestures to the outside, the rain coming down in a constant, heavy stream, loud on the roof of the house. “In this weather?”

Bucky shrugs, a little sheepish. “I’ve got an umbrella?”

Sam’s not too keen about getting wet because of Bucky in the not-so-fun way, but Bucky’s got a heightened nervousness about him that Sam hasn’t really seen since the first time he asked him to dinner as something other than just a couple of guys, so he begrudgingly grabs his own umbrella and opens the door, gesturing for Bucky to leave first. 

To his surprise, they start out on their normal route, and Sam’s a little confused as to what’s got Bucky so on edge, outside of the rain. 

When he takes a slight turn off their normal path, Sam thinks they might be getting somewhere. 

They come to a very water-logged stop right in front of the old Jackson house, and Bucky’s anxious nervousness disappears abruptly, replaced by almost deadly stillness. 

“Why are we here, Buck?” Sam half-shouts, doing his best to be heard over the roaring of the rain. 

In answer, Bucky just pushes open the gate, the latch having broken probably a decade ago, and leads Sam up to the front porch. 

There’s holes in the little roof above the porch, and it’s only slightly less rainy under it than it is outside of it, but Sam closes his umbrella anyway when he sees Bucky do the same. He waits for Bucky to explain why they’re there, but Bucky just looks around the house, his fist opening and closing again—his telltale fidget—so Sam asks again.

“Why are we here?”

“I got pre-approved for a loan,” is all Bucky says, looking around the old place and fixing his eyes on one of the holes in the porch roof. “Haven’t put an offer on this place yet, thought I should talk with you first even though you were okay with me buying the house on my own, but I’m good for it if you want it.” He scratches behind his ear, his frame entirely too small for someone normally so large. “You said you always wanted to live here, right?”

Sam doesn’t answer, a little too stunned to speak both by the thought of all the work this house needs and by the way his heart is so full to bursting when he thinks about getting to live in it. 

Bucky takes his silence as cue to keep talking, his words a little more frantic than they were before. “I’ve always been good with my hands, you know? I wanted a bit of a fixer upper in the first place, even if this is more than I’d imagined. But I can make it just how you imagined, sweetheart, let you pick out the paint and the crown molding and everything just how you wanted it growing up. Can even make some of the furniture if you can’t find what you want anywhere. 

“And it wouldn’t all be me, you know? I’m saving a lot on a down payment and a mortgage since this house is all worn down, so I can hire some contractors for things as we need. Least to make it livable quicker, make it a house. But I want to make it a home myself, sweetheart. Make it our home. What do you think?”

Sam’s quiet for long enough Bucky goes still again, and the eerie lack of movement is enough to shock him out of his reverie. It’s his turn to not answer Bucky’s question. “Dance with me?”

Bucky blinks. “What?”

Sam takes his hands in his, guides them around his waist. He places his own around Bucky’s shoulders. “Mrs. Jackson used to open up the windows on rainy days. Her record player was just beneath it, and her and Mr. Jackson would put on some oldies and dance the whole rainy day away right on this porch. Louis Armstrong was always her favorite.” He starts to sway with the music, Bucky following suit, and raises up on his toes just enough to kiss Bucky solidly on the cheek. “Thought we should continue on with the tradition if it’s gonna be our house now.”

“Our house,” Bucky whispers, like a dream, as rain steadily pours down on top of them whenever they happen to sway underneath a hole in the roof. 

“The dining room’s going to be green,” Sam says with certainty, remembering how much he’d loved the color when Mrs. Jackson had it painted one year, citing a want for something new, something fresh. 

Bucky doesn’t answer, just tilts his head up to feel the rain on his brow before he kisses Sam’s droplet-laden eyelids. Sam hums a few notes of “A Kiss To Build a Dream On,” and feels Mrs. Jackson’s approval in the warm Louisiana breeze. 

Three months later, when the house is fixed enough to at least be lived in, the first thing Bucky does is buy green paint.

(also on ao3, post dividers found here)

[bbyboybucket]

I’ve seen a lot of people saying Sam’s not included in What If? bc Mackie is too busy to voice him. So do y’all think that maybe in his contract, it says he’s the only person who’s allowed to play/voice Sam? Bc thats the only logical explanation….or at least the only one I would accept

[u5an5]

Soapghost and Sambucky have the exact same energy.

[jimmywilsonschutzpah]

Writing fic to me means keeping in mind several details that might lead to canon divergence scenarios. For example, that the reason Wilson called and scheduled a date with Sam was because he took romantic advice from bisexual disaster Remy “Thirteen” Hadley.