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abarbaricyalp · 4 months

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👽🐈🚀

What Happiness Is

Sam was still getting settled on the bed when he answered the facetime call, so Bucky just let himself look at all the shaky cam footage of his broad chest--a bruise along one pectoral that Bucky would have to ask about--and his slightly grown out beard and the long curl of his lashes when the phone was suddenly right next to his face.

It was late in Louisiana--later in New York--and Sam seemed to have already turned off most of the lights. He was bathed in the pretty amber of the bedside lamp light they'd spent four hours looking for one day. At the time, Bucky had not appreciated Sam's insistence that they try out every. single. lamp. until they found the exact color tone they could both stand. Right now, he really really really appreciated it.

"Heard you got called out to something today," Sam greeted.

Bucky tore his eyes away from the curve of Sam's neck and shoulder to look at his face again. "You will not believe what it was," he groaned.

Sam grinned at him and Bucky's heart just about catapulted out of his chest. "Crashed spaceship, right?"

"Escape pod, yeah. It was ours. Something from SABER. Fury was on it."

"Fury was on it?!" Sam laughed. He shifted in the bed, fixed a pillow behind his back, and then folded an arm behind his head to lean back on. "Tell me more right now."

Bucky waited, because he now had to map out all of the musculature in Sam's arm. "God, I wish I was there with you," he groaned softly. "I miss our bed."

"Buck, focus," Sam ordered, though there was a pleased smile on his face. Bucky wanted to keep it there forever. "Fury crash landed in Central Park."

"Yeah. They asked me to go before they knew exactly what was going on, just that a SABER craft was rocketing back into the atmosphere. I still got there after the crash."

Sam nodded encouragingly. He used to tease Bucky that he told stories the way he filled out incident reports, but the teasing had eased once he learned how boring a verbose story could be instead. ("I know you can tell good stories," he'd said once. "You entertain the kids no problem." But it just wasn't the same, Bucky had argued. Sam always knew the truth and the truth was half as interesting.)

"So, anyway, I get there. Things are still smoldering. SHIELD is gonna have to pay another million dollars for the clean up. There are a few people around. And everyone is just kind of...wet?"

"Wet?" Sam asked, amused. Bucky was still in one piece and there seemed to be no indication of illness or hurt, so whatever caused the wetness was more interesting than worrying.

"Yeah. And there were a thousand cats around. Kittens, actually."

Sam's brow furrowed, but he was still grinning amiably. "Kittens? Did you adopt one?"

"I'm getting there," Bucky insisted.

"So we definitely have a cat now," Sam surmised.

Bucky waved him off. "Anyway, so there's all these slightly wet scientists, and Fury, and kittens! And then, and then, and then... Sam you are not going to believe this."

"Please do not keep me in suspense any longer," Sam played dramatically.

Bucky grinned at Sam and Sam grinned right back. "Sam. The cats threw up a bunch of Lovecraftian tentacles and more scientists," he said as slowly and calmly as he could.

Sam shot up in the bed and held the phone more firmly. "What?!"

Bucky had known this would delight and intrigue Sam and he was very pleased that it had. He preened as he sank deeper into the corner of the couch. Out of frame, his hand fell to the fuzzball snoozing in his lap.

"Yeah, man," he laughed. For a second, his eyes fell on his own image, tucked away in the corner, as small as it would go because sometimes he hated looking at himself and the smaller that box was, the more he could see of Sam. But, right now, he didn't mind how he looked. All crinkly eyed and happy. Younger and older at the same time. "Apparently there are alien cats out there."

"The world gets stranger every day," Sam sighed. But that lovely grin was still on his face. "What else happened?"

"Well, apparently it was a Captain Marvel thing," Bucky started again.

"You saw Carol?" Sam asked in excitement. The only person in the world who could rival Bucky's enthusiasm over Danvers was probably Sam. Apparently she was an entire celebrity in the Air Force. Bucky had heard no less than a thousand times that Danvers and Rambeau lived in Louisiana and clearly Louisiana produced the best superheroes in the world.

"Nah, she wasn't there. Had to finish the mission, or something. But this girl showed up. Do you remember Jersey City?"

"I try not to think about Jersey City at all," Sam answered, exactly the way Bucky knew he would.

"Remember, a few weeks ago, the Department of Damage Control got called out to Jersey City? It became a whole thing. It was on TV. Those teenagers totally pulled the rug out from under Deever?" Bucky insisted. "You were on call to do a bunch of PR if it got any worse."

Sam thought for a moment, then waved his hand in a so-so kind of way. "I never did have to do anything with it. What about it?"

"It's the girl from that. She's called Ms. Marvel, I guess. I dunno, she mostly talked about me instead of herself."

"You?" Sam snorted. "What could she possibly have to say about you?"

"Man, she had an entire Wikipedia page of information. She asked me things I didn't even remember the answer to."

Sam laughed again. Bucky melted further into the couch. "So, don't keep me in suspense anymore, Barnes," he pressed one more time. "Show me the aliens we own."

First, Bucky flipped the camera around to show the black and white kitten with his spotted face. He was rolling a shiny pom-pom around, batting it to one side of the kitchen and then bounding over it to catch it before it could roll under the cupboards, then doing it the other direction again.

"That one's yours. I've been calling him Oreo, but he doesn't really react to it, so you can name him when you meet him."

"How are you gonna get an alien cat on an airplane?" Sam asked, but Bucky saw through his slightly sarcastic words to his big, gleaming eyes. Sam pretended like he wasn't a big pet person, but he was always the first one to volunteer for pet sitting duty around Delacroix and he fed more strays than Bucky had ever seen in one place. He had a whole circuit he did in the mornings on his run. Took a backpack with food packed in it.

"I'll just drive this time. I have a car, y'know."

"Uh-huh. What makes you think I want an alien cat?"

Bucky shrugged, even though the camera was still faced away from him. "Look at his little face. He's got spots. He's the best," he defended. "And look at this one."

He turned the camera around again and angled it down to show off the white kitten in his lap. "Gotta say, though, I think this one's just a regular cat."

"How can you possibly tell the difference?" Sam asked.

"Well, look at what she does," he said and poked the kitten's shoulder until she lifted her pretty little head and yawned all big like cats did. "Versus what Oreo does--"

He flipped the camera again and found the black and white kitten in the frame. He tossed a bouncy ball over to it. The kitten's eyes got huge as he watched the ball and then, all of a sudden, a dozen tentacles came pouring out of his mouth to catch the ball before it could bounce too far away.

Sam yelped on the other side of the call. "What the hell, Bucky?" he shouted. The kitten in Bucky's lap lifted her head again at the commotion, took stock the situation, and then climbed out of his lap to lay on the couch cushion next to him instead.

"I told you, man. He's an alien. But look at that face."

The kitten, now with tentacles hidden away again, was mewling softly and looking around for the ball. Sam grumbled, then admitted, "He's pretty cute. But can't call him Oreo."

"What do you want to call him?" Bucky humored.

"I dunno. Something spacey. What about Figaro?"

The kitten lifted his head at the name and came trotting over. Bucky raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I guess that's it," he conceded. "But why Figaro? How is that spacey?"

"It's not," Sam admitted. "But in Bohemian Rhapsody, it gets used next to Galileo and Magnifico. Besides, he looks like the cat from Pinocchio."

"You know the cat from Pinnicchio's name off the top of your head?" Bucky asked skeptically.

"Yeah, unlike you, I pay attention when I watch movies."

Bucky rolled his eyes at the ribbing. He was about to turn the camera around and do it again so Sam could see it, but Figaro, formerly Oreo, began scratching his head against the side of Bucky's phone and purring.

"Aw, Sammy, look at that," he cooed, saccharine and a little teasing. "He likes your voice."

"I can't see anything," Sam pointed out just as Figaro covered the camera again.

Bucky shifted the camera enough to show the not-cat again. He sat back and blinked at the phone. Sam made some sort of noise, but without seeing his face, Bucky wasn't sure what it was. Begrudging adoration, he hoped.

"What did Fury have to say about all of this?" Sam asked.

Bucky turned the camera around again so he was back in the shot. "That if I told anyone, he'd put me on a spaceship without an engine," Bucky admitted. "But everyone's gotta know I'm gonna tell you."

"You're a terrible spy," Sam agreed. But that lovely, pleased smile was back on his face. Bucky was getting better at being charming and polite, but being around Sam definitely skewed his results because Sam was pretty reactive as soon as Bucky got sweet. "Don't know how you got added to that reformed bad guys team."

"You of all people know how that ended," Bucky pointed out. Crashing, burning, screaming. A hundred disciplinary referrals on himself. "'How does Captain America keep figuring out our intel? Gosh, it just doesn't make sense.' It didn't take a genius to put it together."

"If it had, it never woulda been figured out," Sam finished. Bucky's gripes were very predictable. "When are you coming home?"

"As soon as Fury gives me the okay. He already gave me alien cats. Hopefully he'll want me out of sight soon too."

"And you're really bringing those things here?"

"The boys are gonna love them, " Bucky promised with a grin.

"You're taking care of the litter box," Sam warned. "And tentacle issues! I'll be on cuddle duty."

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly and held a hand over his heart. "I'll take care of the litter box."

"I miss you," Sam said softly. "Get back home soon. With your new minions."

"Everything that likes me first loves you more," Bucky reminded him. "They'll be your minions within a weekend."

Sam smiled and did not argue because he couldn't. "I love you. See you soon."

"Love you too," Bucky said, though it was drowned out by a plaintive set of meows and then Sam's laughter before he hung up.

Alien cats, Bucky thought as he watched Alpine chase Figaro. His sci-fi books hadn't prepared him for that one.

this has been sitting in my drafts since I saw the movie opening night. enjoy 👽🐈

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #flerken #alpine the cat #figaro the cat

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thatmexisaurusrex · 9 months

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Just Sam and Bucky, accidentally filling up their phones with cat photos.

#sambucky #the daily sambucky fluff diary #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky headcanons #domestic fluff #figaro the cat #alpine the cat #cat dads #my headcanons

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staying-elive · 7 months

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I so wish Figaro had been in TFATWS. Would've been so easy even if Hollywood doesn't like working with animals.

I can imagine it though.

Figaro chilling in the kitchen as Sam and Sarah talk...

Sam could've given him a cute little boop or a little forehead kissy kiss like he does to the boat. 🥹

Speaking of the boat, Figaro could've been chilling in the background while Sam worked by himself...

*bonus points if he gets another little kiss boop after Sam kisses the engine. (He's so cute 🥹😭)

(I'm just imagining him sleeping on that shelf in front of the window)

Figaro chilling while watching Sam and Bucky work...

(This would be his audition process for future fellow Cat Dad Bucky 😆)

Bucky waking up and Figaro's just chilling on top of him...

('Congratulations, human, you've made it through to the next stage.')

Basically, Figaro would be all of us! 🥰🥰🥰

Also, sets up nicely Bucky going... "Yeah, I want one of these too. This is nice." (Enter Alpine!)

Seriously though, from a more meta angle, Sam being a cat dad would've been a subtle hint to him not being the extrovert open book many people mistake him for. He doesn't open up easily until the time and effort is taken for him to trust someone. Plus I've always headcanoned that Sam adopted Figaro after he left the air force and Riley died. Like he became a support animal that helped Sam get up in the morning and take care of himself because he had a little buddy to also take care of.

Because I also imagine Figaro chilling in the background of Sam's CAWS home...

(Of course Nat would trust Sam right away. He's a Cat Dad! 😁)

And then during Endgame, Nat could've had Figaro with her! (Maybe Sam's neighbour who'd looked after him after Sam was a fugitive also got blipped and Figaro was sent to the Avengers Compound...)

Especially since this scene between Nat and Steve reflects on the people they've lost. i.e. SAM! The missing third person of their fugitive trio 😭😭

Basically what I'm saying is... I want more Figaro! Everywhere. He represents love and grief but also healing.

Love is stored in the Cat. Thank you.

#figaro #figaro meta #sam wilson meta #sam wilson #sambucky #sambucky meta #tfatws #sorry for all the gifs i just like envisioning a cute little cat in every scene #this got more angsty then intended #but still #give Sam his cat!#i'm gonna go give my own cat a little kissy kiss and a boop #sam wilson headcanons

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plantswithme · 5 months

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someone should write a fic where sam and bucky get interviewed by buzzfeed as they play with kittens

#idk how that format would work in a fic but i want it so bad #imagine like 11 kittens just climbing all over them #bucky loses his mind and turns into this absolute smiley mess and sam’s got 3 kittens asleep on his lap bc he’s so warm and cozy i can’t 😭#i’m weak for cat dads sambucky #they end up talking about alpine and figaro too & all the kittens they play with are from a shelter be that's where they got piney and fig #i imagine they also do what chris evans did and meet some adult and senior cats 🥺#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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centersy · 1 year

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#sam wilson #figaro #we had him for like 3 issues #but he will live forever

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babygirl-diaz · 8 months

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Samtember Day 08: Figaro | Sick Day

((I chose "Figaro" for Day 8 of @samsseptember))

Story: Sam moves from Delacroix to Harlem and after a fight with a bad guy, he adopts his kitten and names him Figaro. Together the two of them go on many adventures.

#samtember #day 08 #figaro #sick day #sam wilson #captain america #tfatws #moodboard

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a-blind-bat · 1 year

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I was not gonna stop thinking about this until I drew it so here you go Sambuckies I hope you enjoy. (Tap for better quality)

#oh look original art #I gave same red nails because why not?#Bucky had his own frame but I hated it so you get tiny bucky instead #based on that one B99 meme #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #alpine #Figaro #q

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samsseptember · 8 months

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September 8 - Figaro | Sick Day

#samtember2023 #day 8 figaro | sick day #sam wilson #figaro #sick day

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livingincolorsagain · 2 years

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Saw a video and now all I’m thinking about is Alpine and Figaro getting kisses from Bucky and/or Sam before every meal.

And then one day maybe Sam is in a rush or something and he forgets and doesn’t give them their kisses and Alpine and Figaro are just.. standing there staring at him, waiting.

Sam stops and looks back at them, very confused as to why they’re not eating, so he calls for Bucky, worried, and when Bucky comes over he’s like Well, did you give them their kisses? then he goes and kisses their heads and Sam watches in complete bewilderment as they immediately start to eat.

#their cats are so spoiled #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #alpine #figaro #sambucky headcanons #a writes sambucky #for some reason i can’t even begin to imagine this has been sitting in my drafts for some time now #by some time i mean months

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katatonicimpression · 9 months

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Doodled some 616 sam ships just because

#doodle #still not anything like 100% brain wise #so you're getting half arsed unfinished stuff for the forseeable #sammisty #samchalla #samthor #sam wilson #figaro

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abarbaricyalp · 7 months

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Fill for the @samsseptember prompt Figaro! // Rated G // CW: Grief, depression (wow I did two sad fills)

Magnifico

Sam wasn't sure if the term caterwauling had any relation to cats themselves, but he was beginning to suspect it did. For the third time that morning, he got out of bed and went to the window, wrenched it open, and stared at the stray cat outside. It literally stopped its mournful cry as soon as Sam was back in its sights. It was a sad looking little thing. Dirty enough to look grey and brown instead of black and white. It had a little scar over its nose and a snip on its ear.

"You need to be quiet," Sam said. "Aren't you worried about attracting dogs to you?"

It had not been a good morning. Or night. Or week. Or really most of the days beyond that. The last thing Sam needed was to listen to a cat howl outside his window all damn morning.

"Quiet," he repeated. "Go back to sleep."

The stray had appeared about a week ago. It didn't have any collar and its little nose scar was more red back then. Healed fast, Sam noted the next time he'd seen it. He was pretty certain it had come from one of the other apartment complexes around. He knew there were always people gushing or bitching about the local strays in the neighborhood page. This cat was young enough that Sam figured it was booted out of a stray colony for being a boy. Did cats do that kind of thing? Or maybe it just wanted to sow wild oats or something. Well, not that either. The ticked ear meant it was fixed.

Sam pulled his window down again and turned to face plant on the foot of his bed. He did not get the chance. The cat let out another long mewl and Sam may have let out a cry of his own.

"Samuel Thomas, don't you feed that stray," his mama's voice echoed in his head as he stomped into the kitchen and pulled out too many slices of deli ham from the package. "It won't never leave, if you do that," she finished as he came back into his bedroom.

Well, his mama was the best of women and people, but she was hypocrite here because Sam had seen her feeding all the neighborhood strays on more than one occasion.

He ripped the ham into pieces that would probably be too big for the semi-kitten and then threw them out the window. The cat clearly didn't have Sam's concerns about the size of the ham. It scarfed down the food without chewing.

"Good, now be quiet," Sam said again. But before he could close the window, the kitten had jumped up onto the window sill. It pushed its head against Sam's hand for a second and then jumped down into his bedroom and carried on through the house.

Sam stared after it. "Um, excuse me," he called after it. "You don't live here."

This did not faze the cat. It poked its head into each doorway and genuinely seemed to be examining the rooms or closets. It was comfortable walking through the hallway and into the bright, sunlit living room, where it jumped up into the couch, turned in a circle, and then laid down.

Sam followed after it, feeling a little dumbfounded. "That's not your spot. Come on, let's go." He crossed to the door and opened it, then gestured outside. "Back to where you belong."

The cat looked at him and then the door, then let out one of those long plaintive cries again until Sam finally shut the door. A creature that small should not have that much air in it.

"Okay, listen. You're not staying here," he said. "But I'm exhausted and my chest hurts and I don't want to fight you right now. So if I go back to sleep, will you not destroy my apartment?"

The cat blinked at him and then started making biscuits on his cushion. Sam sighed. He didn't have anything to give a cat. He hadn't had a pet since Sarah begged their parents for hamsters when she was fourteen. Those had been enough of a spectacle, much less an entire feral cat.

He opted for some canned tuna in a Tupperware lid and some water in the bowl of it. He had to Google what an acceptable cat litter substitute was. The last thing he needed was for this cat to spray his entire house right before he was planning on packing up and moving out of DC and away from all the memories it brought with it. Evidently, there were plenty of foods that could be used, but Sam had half a bag of potting soil and that was probably better than filling a shoe box with rice.

"This is yours," he told the cat. "Don't scratch anything."

It took until he was laying in his dark bedroom again--curtains drawn back over the windows--for it to occur to him that he was giving the cat instructions like it could understand him. He'd fully lost it. This must just be a wild dream, concocted from the sound of the cat outside and a late night binge through the neighborhood app and its drama.

None of which stopped him from falling right back asleep anyway. Right back into the same nightmares and tossing and turning that left him so damn exhausted all of the time. It was funny, the trajectory of his sleep patterns. As a teenager, he could sleep through hurricanes, his mama said. And then in the military, he’d become accustomed to jumping at the slightest sound. And now he was stuck in some perpetual torture chamber of the middle. Awaking at every creak in his old house on the good days and sleeping so hard he fell right into the waiting arms of nightmares on the bad ones. He was exhausted all of the time. And when he woke and had to deal with the walking nightmares, rest never managed to find him then either.

DC had been his idea. This house had been Riley’s. And now, again, Sam found himself in a relentless middle. Stuck in a house that was haunted by a man who had only been in it for the tour and stuck in a city where none of his dreams were accessible anymore. The only reason he’d said DC was because they were supposed to be growing the Falcon program. Lobbying for a bigger team, better tech. Training with other branches. Making a name for themselves. Together. And now the program was dead and Riley was…

Sam was so damn tired.

Hours, or maybe minutes, later, Sam woke up, choking on a cry. And the weight on his chest. His hands fell from their wild grab towards nothing at all and settled on the furball using his chest as a bed.

“You had the whole couch,” he said. The cat did not care that his voice was watery. It didn’t even look up at him. “And you chose the two feet of space I’m taking up?”

The cat’s purr just got deeper, burrowing down to Sam’s bones. He wasn’t as tense as he normally was after a nightmare. He couldn’t be with this thing vibrating it all away. Idly, he stroked his fingers over the cat’s fur until it tucked its head under his hand and he stilled again.

“You’re gonna stay, aren’t you?” he asked with a sigh. The cat purred. “Yeah, you’re gonna stay. I’m gonna keep you.” It would require more googling. And he should probably actually walk into a store to get supplies, rather than wait for it to ship to him. God, that was going to suck. It’d involve a shower and clean clothes and digging his keys out from wherever they’d been last time he’d thrown them across the room because the house key was supposed to be Riley’s. He’d have to plaster on a smile and make small talk. Small talk was like salt in the open wound of grief, he’d found.

Still, the cat needed litter and food. Canned tuna wasn’t good for anyone long term.

“You need a name too,” he told the cat. “I’m gonna bother you for a second,” he added and then picked up the kitten and looked under its tail. “I assume you’re a boy. I’m not really a cat guy, I dunno. Maybe you’re just weirdly fuzzy. But probably not.”

The cat mewled and chirped until Sam set him down on his chest again. Then he went right back to purring away, though now he was looking up at Sam as well.

“What about the cat from Aristocats?” Sam suggested. “Ah, nah. I don’t remember his name. What about Max? Oreo? Is that too on the nose? Sir Crumpet Von Fox Huntington III. Fox? It’s kind of funny when animals have other animal names. Would be an ode to the fact I haven’t done anything except switch out X-Files DVDs all week.”

The cat crept up Sam’s chest and he worried he was about to be attacked in the face. But he just settled down against Sam’s throat and started up his purr motor again.

“Okay,” Sam conceded. The kitten’s weight turned his own voice into a rumbling purr. “We’ll figure out a name a little later. Maybe something from a song. Marvin? Bowie? Freddie? Franklin?”

The cat licked the underside of Sam’s jaw and it was both extremely unpleasant in texture and delightful in sentiment. “You can’t eat me yet,” Sam said warningly. “Give a guy a few days to make a good impression. Let me clean first, y’know. Treat you to some fancy food.”

The cat purred his agreement and Sam smiled for the first time in days.

#sam wilson #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #figaro the cat #samtember2023 #writing

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