#samtember2023

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?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to tag @samsseptember in the post as well as #samtember2023.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re using (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 The Samtember Collection (under Samtember2023).

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 or photosets, at least 3 gifs or photos.

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 10 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.

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.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift” and “Sam Wilson is a Saint”.

Sam wondered what Barnes' hands had felt like all those years ago. He'd become a big fan of skincare--the slippery slow from haircare--but Sam had seen his hands back then. Long fingered and elegant. Wrapped around a gun or clenched into a fist. Strong and sure, unhesitating. He bet they felt great when they weren't being controlled by marionette strings stitched into Barnes' mind.

Bucky touches him now every which way. Sometimes how Sam asks and sometimes how he needs without asking. He taps Sam's hip to step behind him in the kitchen. He grabs his shoulder to move him in a fight. He trails teasing, tickling lines up his thigh during meetings. He brushes along Sam's neck while they're watching a movie and Sam is slowly falling asleep beneath Bucky's arm. He puts his hand over Sam's chest to count his heart beat.

Sometimes, he grabs his shoulder and Sam feels a wing ripping away. The air rushing past him as he freefalls, stomach aching from a phantom kick.

Sometimes, he touches Sam's face and Sam is back in Germany, about to be thrown into an elevator shaft.

They're weird bursts of memory. Sam's interrogated it. He's not scared. There's no twitch or jump or moment of confusion or suspicion between them. It's not all the time. He trusts Bucky with his life, with his body, with his soul.

But still. There's this weird impression down through the muscle and bone of him, a bad bruise that isn't on the skin anymore but still twinges at the most random of times. A scar in the wood of him that has been buffed out but still, impossibly remains.

Bucky kneels behind him, pulls him off of his elbows with a gentle, firm hand around the neck and Sam moans and jolts and trusts him. Bucky puts his teeth to the meat of Sam's shoulder and Sam leans back into it. Bucky takes him in hand, the metal hand, and strokes him over the edge while Sam begs for more.

And then they fall over in bed and he brings his fingers up to Sam's temple to wipe away a drop of sweat and suddenly Sam is behind a glass wall in a prison beneath the ocean with a throbbing bruise across his face. He's on a jet and Barnes is looking at him, really looking at him, for the first time. And his fingers come up to the same spot.

"I'm sorry," he says for the first time.

"You didn't do this one, cyborg-brains," Sam answers. He's still running on fumes of insults and school yard names after seventeen hours in a car.

"No, I'm sorry for all of it. All the way back to your rental."

"Who the hell told you it was a rental?" Sam asks. And Barnes doesn't look over to Steve, but Sam knows anyway.

Bucky has said sorry a million times over. Sam had expected each one to erase a bruise, but it always seems to tattoo them down lower instead. A shadow in the water, the unexpected nip at his ankle. Never bad, just surprising. And Sam wouldn't dig them out for anything. They're not just a tattoo, a scar, a bruise. They're the foundation of growth exponential.

Bucky's fingers are on his cheek now and he leans over to kiss Sam's eyebrow. "Thank you," he says this time. "For all of it."

Sam wakes to find his head cushioned on the bench. He looks over to the cockpit where Joaquín and Yelena are arguing over the best bars in New York. Yelena stresses the importance of the actual alcohol, while Joaquín factors in food and ambience. He watches the way Yelena slouches in the seat, one leg swung over the arm rest. Her brow is knit in annoyance, but he can see her mouth twitch, fighting a smile. Sam watches the way Joaquín holds himself, back straight and head cocked to the side as he talks. He could wallow and allow himself to feel overwhelmed by the pang in his chest as he remembers how that exact view used to be of Nat and Steve.

But he feels pride bloom instead. These kids--yes, he still considered them kids, but they're his kids--have proven themselves time after time. They challenge him when necessary, and they give him shit when the occasion calls for it, but they follow his lead without hesitation. And he's proud to lead them. He can't help but smile.

"What're you smilin' about?"

Sam looks up to see that his cushion is actually Bucky's lap. He studies the curious smile on Bucky's face.

"Just thinkin' about our kids," he laughs and points with his chin.

Bucky glances over to the cockpit before smiling down at Sam. "You mean your kids? The only reason we function as a team is thanks to you. You know I'd leave them behind if I could."

"Yeah, right. I remember how excited you were when Joaquín mastered that knife flip you taught him, and how confused yet impressed you were when Yelena took you down during training."

Bucky shrugs. "But they're still here for you." He reaches over and places his left hand over Sam's heart. "You're the one Joaquín strapped the wings on for. You're the one Yelena trusts because her sister trusted you. You're the one with a good heart--and the fantastic chest protecting said heart." He laughs as Sam smacks his hand away, but just runs his thumb along Sam's jaw. "You're a good man, Sammy, and an inspiration to all of us. We're lucky to have you, Cap."

Sam reaches up and brings Bucky's hand to his lips. "Thank you," he says softly.

"No problem. Now tell me how great I am," he grins.

Sam sits up, shoves Bucky off the bench, and joins the others in the cockpit.