Steve's Diary

July 4, 2025

Dearest Diary,

Agreeing to something like this in the '30s was really my only viable way of telling Bucky I wanted him.

Now, even as I'm clearly able to simply say those words aloud, I still feel that urge inside me making my mouth say want to say 'yes'... you know, to going to Coney Island. Again.

I suppose, now more so than ever before, it's because of that tradition that's been built up over the years. Every spring, we'd use our saved up money for entrance tickets into the park and spend a whole day there. The date, when it wasn't chosen at random, would tend to fall on my birthday, seeing as it was usually too cold when his came around.

I can think back and be brought right there again- just the two of us at dusk, lit up by the orange streetlights and colorful carnival rides, hoping everyone might just disappear on the carousel as we dreamed of kissing at the top every single go around.

Yet, there's still that fear that looms around my head and pools in my stomach. Sure, theme parks are supposed to be fun and, sure, I'm literally Captain America... but I threw up last time I was on the Cyclone, and I know Bucky's gonna wanna ride it again.

—————

Originally, we had invited Nat and Banner and Tony and Clint and their respective families to join us on my birthday this year, but after a few of them cancelled (namely Clint and Tony), we decided to rescind the invitation and request that we be there alone for old times sake. I think I'll have more fun this way- we both will.

We arrived at 4pm and planned to stay late into the night, as we always did.

It felt the same, too; immediately, upon walking in, I sensed it all come rushing back to me. I looked over at Bucky and saw that selfsame expression upon his face as rested upon mine. I hadn't made it up, I couldn't have, he felt it too.

"What first, old man?" he asked as we passed that initial shock and proceeded fully into the park.

"First, I'll be correcting you in that you're a year older than me," I joked. "Then, we can get some funnel cake. I bet it tastes like the '30s."

"I bet it does," he smiled, taking my hand in his and walking over to the nearest stand.

"One large funnel cake, please," I requested as we stood there. The woman handed the cake to me in awe after she realized who I was. We payed and walked away, sitting down at a bench and digging in.

"This place... it's so much bigger than I remember," he started, a mouth full of food.

I chuckled. "Well, it is. It's gotta be at least three times the size it used to be," I pointed out.

"Yea," he agreed. "I think we should stick to this side, though. Some of the newer rides look kinda-"

"Unsafe," I jumped in. "And ridiculous and, yea, I agree, let's stay over here."

"Don't think over here excludes The Cyclone, mister," he tore off more cake and ate it.

I sent him an appalled face. "Whaaaaat?" I bluffed. "The Cyclone? Of course we're riding The Cyclone... pfft, why wouldn't we?"

"Steve," he came in, food in his mouth, trying not to choke. "You really are riding The Cyclone."

"Am I though?" He said nothing and just looked at me. "Fine," I rolled my eyes.

He smiled. "Good, because that's where we're off to next."

"Woa, woa, woa- we just ate."

"And?"