I’m sorry but I can’t shut up, why give Sam and Bucky a connection that’s rare to see in the MCU, make Bucky happy again with the Wilson’s, make Sam let him into his world, only to make him miserable government who’s cranky and clearly uncomfortable and ALSO set him up against sam?? If marvel makes him fight Sam, it’s on sight
i feel like the youth should be reminded that the point of shipping is not for a ship to become canon. the point of shipping is to collect all the canon crumbs like starved mice, run away cackling and make some fun little scenarios with them just for the hell of it.
Sam, who loves wine and makes it a duty towards himself to treat himself to a trip to a wine yard every once in a while to buy a nice bottle.
And Bucky, who can only stare in awe as Sam's whole face lights up like a New Year's firework when he starts asking questions that first time he decides to tag along. ("You sure you want to know or you're just asking because you're bored?" "It was only ever beer back then, pretty much the only thing I could afford. And then, during the war... Let’s say most of the stuff Dum-Dum found us tasted like gasoline so yes, Sam. I'd like to know. Beer is getting old, I can't get drunk on hard liquor anymore, might as well expand my horizons now that I can." "Look at you, opening yourself to the world." "Fuck you, Wilson." "Don't threaten me with a good time, Barnes.")
Bucky, who scoffs and shoves Sam a little to hide the furious blush creeping up his neck at the cheeky comeback but still thinks it's worth it just to hear that full-of-himself, exaggerated short cackle Sam let's out everytime he manages to get a reaction out of Bucky.
Bucky, who frowns the first time he notices Sam losing steam and glancing minutely at him, as if worried Bucky didn’t mean it when he said he wanted to know more.
Bucky, who wracks his head for a question, even a stupid one, just to keep Sam talking, to keep him sharing parts of himself with Bucky because that's all he ever wanted, to be trusted with parts of Sam's being, however big, however small.
Bucky, who jealously basks in the warmth of Sam's sunny smile when he takes into the seriousness and focus on Bucky's face and starts speaking passionately again, about vintages and types of wines, about which ones to let sit and age and which ones are better young otherwise they grow sour and taste like vinegar.
Buck, who drinks it all in like the finest beverage, directly from Sam's mouth, dropping from his tongue like nectar from those precious grapes Sam is talking about and filling Bucky's ears with the soothing sound of his voice.
Bucky, who takes mental notes of everything Sam tells him about wines with every trip he accompanies him on and buys a new bottle every time they eat together, making sure to ask Sam what he'll be cooking when they're having dinner at his so he can choose the wine accordingly and earn himself a proud grin from Sam and a 'nice pick, Buck'.
Bucky, whose heart grows too big for his chest to contain when Sam gets two invites for a fancy wine tasting event and says 'who else? you're the one I want with me there' when Bucky asks if he's sure he wants to take him instead of someone else.
Bucky, who tries to school his scowl when Sam admits one time that it's nice to finally have someone who listens to him without either getting bored or calling him a snob.
Bucky, who's searched for literal months and finally gets his hands on a 1978 White Gigondas 2 days before Sam's birthday, because he wanted it to be special and thoughtful after all that time spent listening and learning from Sam, and what's better than the man's favorite wine, from the vintage of his birth year?
Bucky, who watches with batted breath as Sam runs a reverent thumb along the edges of the decades old label for what seems like years, almost worryingly silent.
Bucky, who stands frozen as a warm hand closes around his upper arm and squeezes. As soft lips brush, featherlight, against his cheek. As the words 'it's perfect' and 'thank you' glide across his heated skin and inside his ear, only to coil and bury themselves deep within the curve of his spine, soft and bright like a spring sun thawing out the last of winter's snow.
Bucky who watches Sam pull away just enough to pin him with those deep soulful eyes, earthy brown turning into liquid honey in the soft yellow light of Sam's living room.
Bucky, who answers the silent question within those eyes with a soft sigh and a gentle touch of his forehead against the other man's.
And then Bucky.
Who can now say what it's like, to be kissed with so much love, it feels like being born again.
Just saw Brave New World in German and guys! Guys!
They translated "I love you, buddy" as "Ich liebe dich, Mann"
That's the almost exclusively romantic "I love you" instead of the more familial "Hab dich lieb" (which Ross says to Betty on the phone in a later scene, so they clearly know the difference)
I have been wondering how they would translate it because there really isn't an equivalent in German to the way Americans say "I love you" in a non-romantic way. "Ich liebe dich" is a romantic love confession, while "Hab dich lieb" is usually said in a familial context or with close friends, but I'm not sure grown men would say it between them as it's more... cutesy? I don't know how else to describe it. XD (I mean, grown men SHOULD say it more often, I'm just not sure many do.)
Having Bucky say ‘I love you’ to Sam is literally the best thing ever. They’re gay. And the best part is, is that even if someone disagrees with me on that, it’s still meaningful. If you don’t interpret it as romantic, that is one manly muscular dude saying ‘I love you’ to his manly muscular dude best friend. The other option is gay. It’s either, ‘dismantling toxic masculinity’ or ‘gay’ and there are no other options, and I think that’s beautiful.
Bucky, who loves reading and finally gets to sit down and enjoy all the literature he's missed for the past decades.
And Sam. Who watches that stunning smile bloom across his face like a morning glory at the first rays of sunshine the first time he gifts him a new book and decides he wants to witness that sight again and again and again.
Sam, who eyes the ever growing piles of books scattered across Bucky's apartment with a fondness that has long since done surprising him and snorts gracelessly at Bucky's stupidly proud smirk when he compares him and his book herding to Smaug herding the dwarves' gold in the Hobbit (they did a buddy reading of the Hobbit, LotR and the Silmarillion on Bucky's insistence, which was about when Sam found out that 1) Bucky could talk non-stop for at least half an hour with enough motivation, and 2) the asshole had no concept of time when he talked about books and Sam had woken up half a dozen times to at least one 20 minutes long audio message from Bucky rambling about Tolkien lore).
Sam, who learns how much Bucky loves poetry on a random night during a stake out because the man mentions that the only thing he's grateful for when it comes to the Winter Soldier conditioning is all the languages they've put inside his head so now he can enjoy poetry in every language that he speaks, because no poem is more beautiful than in the language it was originally written in.
Sam, who from then on buys Bucky poetry books. English classics, of course. But also Spanish and Turkish. French and Arabic. Japanese and Hebrew. Xhosa, Hindi, Greek, Portuguese. Old and modern alike.
Sam who listens with his eyes closed when Bucky reads him his favorite poem of each book, losing himself into the sudden softness of Bucky's voice, into his surprisingly beautiful diction, asking 'how about another one you liked?' when he feels especially greedy and wants to bask in the velvety quality of the man’s voice just a little longer, Bucky indulging him, always, too happy to share, the shyness of the first few times he'd done this long gone now.
Sam, who listens with a bleeding heart to Bucky as he explains why Tommorow, At Dawn and 'Tis A Fearful Thing are his favorite poems.
Sam, who goes on a cruisade against the Smithsonian to get his hands on Bucky's belongings from the war because he mentioned once a beat-up copy of the Ghost of Canterville he used to drag around everywhere with him across Europe because it was his favorite tale, the one his mother had read to him time after time when he was little, and it reminded him of home.
Sam, who gifts Bucky a collector LotR bookset he got from a small artist for his birthday, with handmade leather bindings and painted edges.
Sam, who has to sneak away and step out on the front porch for a second at the look of pure adoration Bucky sends his way once he's done running his flesh and bone hand along the carefully crafted leather spines of his brand new books, taking advantage of his nephews making a show of bringing their own gifts to their Uncle Bucky to calm the wild beat of his heart against his ribcage. (And if he pointedly ignores Sarah's knowing look on his way out, it's nobody's business.)
Finally, Sam. Who sucks in a sharp breath that same night when mismatched arms pull him into a strong embrace just as he's about to leave Bucky with a fluffy pillow and a warm quilt on the couch, the softest of thank yous dropped directly in the shell of his ear, two words that have never sounded so tender, echoing in his head long after he retreated to his own room.
In spite of his phone buzzing for the sixth time in the space of two minutes, Sam doesn't bother to check it. He's not slacking on the job: he's flanked by other superheroes, all of whom would also be getting notifications if something world-threatening were happening, and he's got AJ and Cass and Sarah in his immediate field of view.
The frenetic buzzing of six--wait, no, make that seven--text messages in no time at all can only be the work of one person, and that person is safely ensconced at the palace in Birnin Zana, undoubtedly being as much of a nuisance to his friends there as he is to Sam.
There's not much of a question as to what the text messages say, so Sam lets them roll in undisturbed, and makes sure that all of the cameras catch him emphatically not checking his phone. Instead he brings his attention to the students in front of him, crouching down to get a better look at the device that they built in their environmental science club.
He points to the receptacle at the top--it's a water filtration system--and asks the group how it works. They're very excited to answer, and when Sam asks specific questions about the mechanisms and how hard the process was, he watches them light up. He talks to them for so long that one of the PR people has to gently nudge him along to another group. Sam's phone periodically keeps buzzing away in his pocket, but he ignores it in favor of talking to all the students, doing his best to ask relevant questions and toss around jokes to make the shy ones laugh.
The event ends with plenty of pictures and plenty of questions about his own wings and how they work, and when it's all over, he feels the same pleasant exhaustion that he feels after a good workout or a mission where things went to plan. In the car on the way back to the house, all AJ and Cass can talk about is how cool all the Stark prototypes were, and Sam promises to let them mess around in his workshop tomorrow so they can do some inventing of their own.
It's not until he's back home that he remembers to even check his phone, putting it on the charger and laughing when the screen lights up to reveal thirty-two text messages from Bucky. The last one came in just a minute ago, so Sam flops down on the cozy armchair in the corner, Bucky's favorite place to curl up on nights when sleep is hard to come by, and calls him back.
The phone barely rings once before Bucky answers, skipping a greeting entirely so he can say, "You stole my sweater!"
Sam laughs. "Hi to you, too, baby."
There's a huff on the other end of the line. "Hi, sweetheart. I miss you, and also, you stole my sweater."
"Did I?" asks Sam. "How do you know that it didn't just find its way into my side of the dresser? You're not very careful about keeping our things separate, you know."
"Yeah, I do know," says Bucky. "That's why when I was packing for Wakanda, I asked you, 'Sam, love of my overlong life, man I would do anything for, have you seen my favorite green sweater?' And when you said no, I asked if you checked your side and you said that it wasn't in your sweater drawer, either."
That's because it was strategically placed in a laundry basket under half a dozen polo shirts that Bucky would never touch, Sam doesn't explain. "Sounds like it just got misplaced, and maybe someone shouldn't wait to pack for their trips until half an hour before they leave."
"Yeah?" asks Bucky. "Is that what it sounds like, and not like someone had their eye on my sweater and waited until I was distracted to snipe it and wear it to a public event where he knew I'd see him on TV?"
"Well that's just silly, Buck. Who would do that?"
"It's impossible to say," replies Bucky, making Sam laugh. Then, after a moment of quiet, he adds, "It looks good on you."
"Thank you," says Sam, and it shouldn't still make warmth rush to his cheeks when Bucky compliments him, but here he is. "Does that mean I get to keep it?"
Bucky snorts. "Let's not get carried away, Wilson."
"That's hardly getting carried away; we just established that I wear it better than you do."
"When did we establish that?" sputters Bucky.
"Are you saying it's not true?"
"Of course not," replies Bucky, without hesitation. "I saw how your arms looked in that thing; it's a fucking revelation. That's not the point."
"Ooh, I've never been called a revelation before," teases Sam.
He expects another grouchy reply, but instead, Bucky just says, "Yes, you have."
Sam actually stops and pulls his phone away from his face to make sure he's still connected. "What was that?"
"Nothing," says Bucky. "Tell me about this science thing that was so important you had to steal my sweater for it."
"Uh-uh," says Sam. "Nope. You tell me who's going around calling me a revelation."
"Sam."
"Bucky."
"You know who it was."
And yeah, Sam's good enough at putting together evidence to get to that conclusion, but he wants to hear it from Bucky all the same. "Tell me anyway?"
"All those times when you crashed into my life in all those different cities, you brought something with you. Do you remember that?"
As if Sam could ever forget. "My folks raised me never to show up empty handed, you know that."
It had been more than that, of course. He hadn't known how else to get Bucky to trust him, sure he was still struggling to trust himself most days. The whole point had been to make sure that Bucky was safe and whole, so the first time Sam managed to cross paths with him, he'd brought a loaf of bread and some strawberries from a roadside stall. Another time, it had been flowers, other times cups of coffee or books.
"Every time you showed up and forced me to take the thing you were giving me, I had to figure out how to be a person about it. I'd forgotten what it was to be annoyed or impatient or to want someone to stay even when you knew they couldn't."
Sam's breath catches in his throat a little, but Bucky doesn't stop.
"And then you would just talk at me for a couple minutes, and then you'd get your stuff and be on your way, and I'd have to find a safe place where I could face up to the fact that you knocked me on my ass with some wilted daisies that you bought for five euros. What else do you call someone who brings you a part of you that you thought you'd never see again?"
"What the fuck, Barnes?" breathes Sam, rasping a little because of the sudden lump in his throat.
"It's the truth!" says Bucky, suddenly defensive.
"Yeah, well, you couldn't have waited to share that truth until I could hear it in person? So I could kiss the shit out of you the way you deserve?"
"Oh," Bucky says quietly. "You know, I could--"
"Absolutely not. Whatever you're thinking, absolutely not. You just managed to earn the Wakandans' trust again; you're not stealing a talon fighter for a booty call."
"It wouldn't be a booty call, Samuel."
"It would a little bit be a booty call, and Ayo would never let you hear the end of it."
Bucky huffs again. "Fine," he grouses. "But I'm coming home as soon as the last repair is done on my arm."
"Good," says Sam. "That'll give me time to steal the rest of your sweaters."
"Sam," Bucky all but whines, and Sam laughs in response.
"Fine. I'll only take most of your sweaters, and maybe one of your hoodies. Just one."
"If I say no, you're just gonna steal more, aren't you?"
"Probably," says Sam, shrugging even though Bucky can't see him.
Bucky sighs. "Fine," he says. "We'll work out a trade when I get home."
"Well, hurry back," says Sam. "I'm kind of curious about your negotiating tactics."
There's a loud laugh from Bucky's end, and Sam can still hear his smile when he speaks. "Back home as soon as possible, sweetheart," says Bucky.
"Gonna hold you to that, baby," says Sam. Then, just as Bucky's about to hang up, he tacks on, "I'm stealing your maroon sweater next!"
When he ends the call, Bucky's only halfway through indignantly crying his name.
These two really came a long way. I’ve been rooting for them since day one, they truly have a special bond. Bucky saying I love you to Sam brings me back to episode 5 where they shook hands and had a sincere conversation for the very first time. It takes me back to episode 6 where Bucky said jokingly that he would love to move in with Sam. It takes me back to the moment Bucky looked at Sam with a smile as he fought for the first time as Captain America. It takes me back to the moment Sam defended Bucky when Zemo attacked people who have superserum in their system. It takes me back to the moment I first met these two and fell in love with their relationship. God bless.
I would have loved to put more moments but I got censored by the 10 images limit haha
dailybridgerton
stormborns
2087
izzy806
romaincrisis
gummygunk
pixelskylines
theartofmadeline
