The Falcon And The Winter Soldier (2021) Captain America: Brave New World (2025)

I wondered how I could update Arthur's style to current trends so he isn't wearing that godforsaken green sweater with a red tie that he's had since fucking 1930 lmao. A looser fit for his clothes esp his trousers and white sneakers for a casual look will do the job without losing his essence. Then I got carried away and gave him two more fits

Together they're the Rowdyruff boys 🫶 daft cunts, all of them

Sam completed the real world version of superhero school, where most candidates drop out.

Natasha knew of Sam’s mission by name and was shocked.

Nick Fury tried to recruit Sam after seeing him in battle one time.

They immediately tried to recruit him into the Avengers but Sam said no. Until he finally relented and joined up.

Literally every important character who has ever met Sam Wilson immediately tried to recruit him for their team.

We have known Sam’s qualifications for yeaaaars. Why is there any doubt he’s Captain America?

the best fanfic is the one the author had fun writing actually.

Problems:

I want this story to be written

I don’t want this story to be written by anyone but me

I don’t want to write this story

if you like it, maybe you should put a pin on it

Based on this post where Bucky finds Sam's board that's filled with pictures of Bucky with strings pushed into it when he was trying to find him back in 2014-2016 and Bucky puts post it notes grading him if he was correct or not. People in the tags commented about this spinning off to a proposal and this was born.

This is my first finished fic in years so, I may be rusty. I hope y'all enjoy!

One day, Sam looks over at the board again— amongst all the chaos and dangling string and pinned up pictures and paper…

He tilts his head, squinting, before blinking his eyes.

There, on the map, is a new picture, stuck through with a blue pushpin.

Familiar brick, that doormat given by his nephews, the dark wood door.

Home.

100%, scribbled in black sharpie, across the surface of a bright yellow post it.

But what catches his eye—

“Will you marry me?”

Sam turns his head, footsteps creaking the wood underneath Bucky’s feet. He’s wearing a suit, not uncommon these days, but something different than the typical navy and grey suits he’s pilfered from Sam’s closet along with his ties.

No, there’s a svelte silhouette to his form, as if it’s important the fit is right. He’s in a three piece wearing a pin attached to the lapel.

And in his left hand is a small, velvet box.

The words on the post it note ring in his head as Bucky steps closer toward him.

“You found me,” he says, close enough his heat emanates from his body, seeping deep into Sam's own.

His eyes, those nowadays soft eyes, hold a glimmer of trepidation, but also hope.

“I sure did,” Sam replies, smile smug. “I’m good at what I do.”

Bucky’s other hand is warm when he reaches out, his thumb resting over Sam’s knuckles in a solid grip. There’s a slight tremor that seems to ease and settle when he brushes his thumb over Sam’s skin.

“Wouldn’t want anyone else to try and find me.”

“Well, you said I was 100% right on the last time I found you. No one can top that.”

A smile blooms across Bucky’s face, his eyes glowing.

“You’re right.”

Sam laughs, the joy bubbling through him, light and airy and warm.

“Can I get that in writing? Or better yet, on video?”

With a flick of Bucky's vibranium thumb, the box gently opens.

“Only if you say yes.”

Sam shakes his head, the line of his grin softer but no less strong, his eyes peering down at the ring gleaming in the lights of their home.

“You drive a hard bargain there.”

Bucky releases his hold, the absence creeping in, until he pulls the ring out of the cushion. Sam’s hand is still hovering in the air when the cool metal slides along his finger.

”What, do you want me to beg?”

The box snaps closed; Bucky’s hand slips into his pocket before drawing it out, resting his left hand on Sam’s waist. His other is holding Sam’s, thumb resting on top of the ring.

Their bodies draw closer, not quite a dance, but movements of a beat they’ve done so often, it’s like breathing.

Sam’s lips brush against Bucky’s, not quite a kiss.

“That could be a start.”

Their foreheads are pressed together, touching, gaze so focused all they can see in the reflection of their eyes is each other. Their hands warming the other’s waist.

“Say yes and I’ll do anything,” Bucky declares.

He tries one more time.

“Marry me?”

He strains to hear in the silence but his enhanced senses register Sam’s whisper like a yell.

“Yes.”

The taste of triumph, of victory, of finding peace and home, is on their lips, and steals their breath before they part for air.

They don’t move far away, foreheads still leaning against each other. Sam’s smile is a bit devious now, a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

“Gonna hold you to that, husband,” he says, and Bucky just laughs.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

_

If you like my writing, feel free to check out my writing tag!

off topic but i really adore the history left behind by the nations. of them in photographs; their letters to each other over the centuries, paintings, polaroids, etc. it’s so distinctly and weirdly intimate and deep to me, like saying i’m here, and i have lived like any other being. just because the world found out about them in a later time didn’t mean they didn’t exist nor live a life before that. that despite being absolutely immortal and divine, they are still captured in photographs and there are ink stains on the letters they wrote that say, this is a life lived. they aren’t just mindless entities that equate to the representation of a society, they have genuine personal lives that are in the very proof of pages and papers.

#aph

i cant put this into words but. yeah. you know.

here you go professor. several pages of home brewed bullshit. as opposed to the chatgpt-brewed bullshit you're used to these days. i hope u enjoy it i worked very hard on it ❤️