#modern steve rogers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zenaidamacrouras1 · 1 year

Text

Writing Modern Steve Roger's Health Issues: A compendium

AKA How do Steve Rogers' MCU canon illnesses hold up in a modern setting?

I am writing something that is SO NICHE and so NERDY I feel absolutely, positively deviant about it. Who knew you could have this much fun while eating a burrito and sitting in the sun on your back porch?

OKAY! This one goes out to all of you writing modern AU's with a modern Steve Rogers. (There are literally dozens of us!). Let's go.

So, I find it somewhat problematic when people write disabled or otherwise medically complicated characters and are wishy-washy about the diagnosis they have. In real life, everyone I know with ongoing medical issues is a fucking expert on their exact shit. A great tumblr reference for disabled characters is Cripple Characters, but I also use reddit threads to read about people’s day to day experiences with different issues in their own words. If nothing else, just decide what your character has and take ten minutes and read through a basic website article about it.

So let's walk through what modern Steve's medical history and diagnoses might be. If you feel like I missed any details or got things wrong, happy to have comments to that end.

We'll start with the list of “ailments,” going with the MCU canon and combining the images from the museum exhibit and screen shots of Steve’s enlistment forms:

Asthma

Scoliosis

Fallen arches

Partial deafness

Scarlet Fever, Rheumatic Fever

Heart arrhythmia

High blood pressure

Palpitation or pounding in heart

Easy fatigability

Stomach ulcers

Pernicious anemia

Nervous trouble of any sort

Sinusitis

Chronic or frequent colds

Caveat: I am not a doctor, but I am a person who enjoys reading medical journal articles about illnesses I do and don’t have. The human body is a fascinating and terrible place to live. Talk to me about your medical complications - I will always find them interesting. I love small talk about Crohn’s disease and/or extremely graphic details about the time you had surgery because one of your wrist bones was the wrong length.

Sucks To Your Assmar: Asthma! How has asthma changed?

Kids who have their asthma well managed at a young age are going to have less scarring and lung damage (this is called airway remodeling). Thus a modern kid will likely have less severe asthma than a kid born in Steve’s time. Further, allergy medicines got way better from the 1990s, so kids with allergy induced asthma would have had fewer attacks. Fewer attacks as kids = less severe asthma as they age.

I would also note that asthma is highly connected to environmental issues. If Steve grew up in a house with cigarette smoke, cockroaches, rats, or mold present, as is fairly easy to imagine, especially without dehumidifiers in a swampy Brooklyn summer, those are environmental factors that would have made his asthma much worse.

They are also all factors that kids today certainly face, depending on how you write your modern Steve’s childhood. While people today certainly can have very severe asthma, it’s also entirely possible that modern Steve’s relationship to his asthma is pretty chill and easy to manage. (My partner has relatively severe asthma with a lot of environmental triggers; modern allergy medicine was a big game changer.)

Let’s talk about scoliosis ~~

There are a lot of variations to how scoliosis impacts people. I have very minor scoliosis and it's barely a thing in my life. I’m not trying to speak for everyone, but for what it’s worth, there are professional athletes with spinal fusion. I used Kyra Condie as my justification for writing climbing coach post-spinal fusion small Steve Rogers in one fic. My younger brother and best friend in high school both had spinal fusions.

In reality the athletic and physical abilities of people with spinal fusion vary pretty much exactly as much as people without spinal fusion, so you have a lot of leeway for how you decide to write a character with scoliosis. I recommend reddit threads to read about people talking about how their bodies felt before and after spinal fusion, or why they decided not to have the surgery, if you want to get a sense of how it might affect your character’s day to day life.

Wait, so how tall is modern small Steve Rogers?

You can see in this article that gains in height post scoliosis corrective surgery/spinal fusion varies, but the mean was 27 mm (1 inch) and the maximum was 66 mm (2.5 inches).

The more severe the curve in the spine, the more height gained with surgery.

We know Steve had scoliosis, we don’t know how severe it was (do we?). But if he was 5’4” without spinal fusion, and with all of his childhood fevers, and possible poor nutrition due to the Great Depression and untreated stomach ulcers, then it’s very reasonable that a modern Steve raised with proper nutrition and his gastrointestinal issues (see below!) properly treated and a spinal fusion could be easily 1-10 inches taller.

I think it’s great if you want to write modern Small Steve as 5’4” - but I tend to write him as 5’7” or so.

I think it is entirely likely that a modern Steve Rogers could end up being 6 feet tall given modern medical intervention and a healthy digestive system and adequate nutrition. As an example of how people with more or less the same genetics having different heights due to environmental factors, I know of one family of four brothers that immigrated from Italy in the 40s. Their height was 100% correlated to their age when they moved to the US/started having access to food: the oldest brother was around 5’4” and the youngest around 6 feet. The oldest was also a chain smoker and worked full time from around age 8, so you know, he was a fucking badass 5'4" Italian guy, if that's not clear.

What about fallen arches?

Fun story, but I have fallen arches/flat feet and had a lot of foot pain as a kid, but I thought it was normal. I wear custom orthotics and/or birkenstocks and do exercises to strengthen my feet muscles and it's fine now as long as I remember to do the things I just mentioned. My dad had to have multiple surgeries on his feet, so I think it helped that they caught it earlier in me.

Should I write modern non-serum Steve as deaf?

Maybe! I think it’s lovely when people write characters with hearing issues. There are great blogs that cover ways to do that well (a good link, another one, and another one and I think this one on hearing aids is particularly good if you are trying to bring in subtle day to day routine differences a character that wears hearing aids may have. Another great option is, again, reddit, especially for questions around how sexual intimacy might vary in small ways that can be nice to bring in. (I am working on a fic with a seeing character whose ex is blind and also read a lot of couples first hand experience with sexual intimacy around that dynamic on reddit).

But how likely is it that modern Steve would be deaf?

I think that it’s reasonably likely that Steve’s hearing issues were a result of Scarlet Fever, which is a bacterial infection that can result in rheumatic fever, an inflammatory condition that develops in more severe cases of scarlet fever.

Scarlet fever caused deafness - in fact, both Helen Keller and Thomas Edison had hearing loss due to scarlet fever infections. Further, sustained fevers of over 104 degrees can also cause hearing loss, so there is a reasonable chance that some other fever caused Steve’s hearing issues.

Today, the kind of hearing loss caused by fevers and infections can usually be surgically repaired or never occur because we have better antibiotics and better medicines to treat fevers. However, I have a friend who has partial hearing loss and lots of other life long nervous system and fatigue issues due to complications from childhood chicken pox in the 80s (this vaccine came around in 1995).

I don’t know if it’s canon or fanfiction, but I often see Steve as having one bad ear. For what it’s worth, hearing loss in one ear is much less common than hearing loss in both ears.

However, potential causes of hearing loss in one ear are infections that result in a high fever and some kind of head trauma, both of which are easy to imagine would have affected a Steve born in 1918, and while possible in a modern Steve, also easier to avoid.

Heart Stuff: Heart arrhythmia, High blood pressure, Palpitation of pounding in heart, Easy fatigability

The aforementioned fevers that can cause hearing loss can also cause heart issues. I think it’s reasonably likely that Steve’s heart issues were from his fevers as a young kid, but I often write him with a congenital heart defect, because why not?

These days, most of the time, such issues are detected at or before birth and fixed when the person is a baby, but there are plenty of heart issues that can require multiple heart surgeries at various points. Regardless, a modern Steve would most likely either have had access to corrective surgery or medication to manage these heart conditions. Which is not to say that he wouldn’t suffer mental and physical trauma from this medical complication.

There are plenty of professional athletes you can find who have all of the above heart issues. And plenty of people with heart issues who have no interest in being professional athletes, so like, follow your bliss.

Digestive System Stuff: Easy fatigability, Stomach ulcers, Pernicious anemia

I have easy fatigability under heart stuff too, because lots of shit can make you tired.

My personal head canon is that Steve Rogers has celiac disease and/or lactose intolerance, it would cause all of the above. Both can also lead to poor growth - in fact falling off growth charts is one of the most common symptoms of celiac disease in children.

While people have been aware of celiac disease since there were people, gluten wasn’t identified as the clear cause till the 50s.

I typically write modern Steve with some kind of food allergy, and I think that addresses quite a few of his canon medical complications.

Because so many causes of this category of symptoms are relatively easily solved with modern medical intervention/avoiding the problem, I would point folks towards Crohn’s disease if you are looking to write a modern character with medical issue that is more likely to be an ongoing source of similar medical complications today.

(Also, kids with Crohn’s are likely to have reduced height. I have a friend who has Crohn's whose 3 siblings are well over 6 feet and he is around 5'8" (so 4-6 inches aka 11+ cm shorter due to his severe childhood illness).)

Nervous trouble of any sort

Kids with medical complications and food allergies are much more likely to have anxiety. I’m so proud of all the kids making it through the day with anxiety. Luff you anxiety kids, I see you working twice as hard to be present as the non-anxious kids. Tough as hell. Give yourself a high five. I’m so damn proud of you.

Sinusitis and Frequent colds

I mean, god bless modern decongestants and allergy meds. Celiac disease and lactose intolerance can both cause sinus issues, so here is another one of Steve's ailments that can be "cured" through that diagnosis.

Other stuff

When you look at the above, you can see a lot of scenarios where modern era Steve, like many children/adults today, had multiple surgeries and serious and scary health complications as a child, but as an adult would appear as a relatively healthy able bodied person, with the possibility of even becoming a top athlete if he was so inclined. It’s also likely that some issues like chronic fatigue etc, might linger into adulthood as relatively invisible illnesses that nonetheless affect his everyday.

In some ways his character arc given the advances of modern medicine could mimic his arc due to the serum.

Being medically complicated as a kid sucks. Even if you have surgeries to treat and/or learn how to live with things like Crohn’s and celiac and reduce flare ups, lingering mental health trauma can have an impact.

Lastly and most importantly, I have a personal headcanon that young Steve Rogers of any era spent a lot of time sick in bed and staring into a mirror learning how to raise one eyebrow and perform other eyebrow gymnastics so he could more effectively sass his nurses.

IN CONCLUSION:

I think it's actually reasonable for an author to say, "My modern Steve never had any fevers, and got his severe lactose intolerance diagnosed as a baby, and had good nutrition, had medications/clean environment that prevented his asthma."

So this Steve is 6 feet tall and healthy as long as he doesn't eat dairy and takes his daily zyrtec (cetirizine - it's an allergy med). The only medical issue he has from canon left is scoliosis, flat feet, and an astigmatism.

You can also choose to write a Steve with more complex medical issues, and there are lots of things that can be good and interesting and value about that. I think the main thing is to pick a diagnosis and write it realistically, hopefully this helps some with that!

#stucky fanfiction #smol steve #writing disability #steve roger #pre serum steve rogers #modern steve rogers #honestly whats wrong with me #I don't even know but I feel like I'm dealing with my mental illnesses well enough and I had fun writing this #meta #headcanon #stony fanfiction

441 notes · View notes

jen-with-a-pen · 1 month

Text

ALL TIED UP - FIVE

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: Steve's night is made when his barista ends up sharing a class with him. But Steve's paranoia gets the best of him– can he really trust his gut?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 2.66k

warnings: flirting, fluff, hand holding, closeness, steve is adorable when he's nervous, paranoia, unease, cursing, barista lore™

a/n: had fun writing this one as we build up to friday! i might be switching the days/chapters around in the next few, but we'll see. depends on the depravity of my brain 😈

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Thursday.

Learning how to draw, when he already knows how to draw, makes Steve feel bad at drawing.

Sitting in the lecture hall of the art school, he doodles over the half-assed notes he manages to take during the first thirty minutes of class. Usually, he loves Drawing 101; it’s his easiest, only late-night class each week and one of the only times he can relax without worrying about one of the brothers barging in with another stupid homework question. Usually, it's just him, his earbuds turned up a touch too high, and whatever subjects the instructor places in front of him. On Thursday nights, nothing stands between him, an easel, and two straight hours of sketching pots and people.

Except when a said-Thursday night happens to fall on ‘mandatory lecture’ day.

It hasn’t been an hour when Steve gives up trying to force himself to focus, instead choosing to mindlessly doodle over and around the page. The Drawing 101 guest professor continues to drone on about different types of graphite in the pencils kits Steve and twenty-odd other kids in the course were forced to buy. Steve doesn’t understand– nor does he particularly give a shit– as to why a 3H pencil is better over a 3B pencil, or how using an 8B pencil isn’t preferred over a 7B pencil.

A pencil is a fucking pencil.

Steve sighs, failing to stifle a yawn. No amount of coffee– not even the triple espresso concoction his barista had him try earlier that day– could save him from falling asleep in this godforsaken, decades-old room with dimmed lights and sporadically-filled seats scattered amongst the vast sea of empty ones. Honestly, nobody ever came to monthly lectures, save for when their usual professor mentioned the material would be part of their written midterms. Guest lecturers result in a lesser turnout, too, and Steve partially wishes he’d chosen to spend it back at the café or in the library. As the professor continues on to the next type of pencil, the double doors at the back of the room creak open. Still dazed in a bored stupor, Steve cranes his neck over his shoulder to see which unlucky bastard is almost an hour late to the snoozefest.

He immediately wakes up, shooting up in his seat as if a bucket of ice water were splashed on him. He can’t believe what he sees: it’s her. Her. His barista.

Mouth agape, he stares as she slowly closes the doors, careful not to draw too much attention to her late arrival. When nobody bothers to acknowledge her, she makes her way down the carpeted steps of the lecture hall in search of refuge in an empty seat. Her eyes dart across the aisles, desperate for just one, inconspicuous place that will draw the least attention.

As she combs the rows with a furrowed brow and bottom lip slipping adorably between her teeth, Steve realizes he’s got some sort of a chance. Eyes dart to the professor, then back to her. Steve subtly raises a hand, waving to get her attention. Locking eyes, she finally sees him. Relief and surprise replace her bitten lip with a beaming smile. Steve’s heart soars, skipping far more than several beats. He doesn’t– he can’t– take his eyes off her as she quickly shuffles through the row of seats, plopping down next to him and dropping a tote bag at her feet. She pulls out a purple notebook and pen, slouching back into her seat with a relieved sigh, knee brushing gently against Steve’s. A ghost of the sweetest-smelling perfume drifts into his nostrils and he has the urge to replace his oxygen supply with it.

Steve feels like he’s dreaming. Cloud nine, light as a feather, the whole fucking nine yards. He skims over her features in the dim light of the lecture hall– the curve of her lips as she whispers to herself, flipping through the pages of her notebook, trying to find a blank spot; her eyelashes that flick up and down as she copies down the date and class number. He trails down her neck, crossing over the gold bar necklace she wears every day, to her shoulders and arms, her hands. When his eyes drift back up to her face, she’s staring back. Heat blooms in his cheeks and nerves constrict his chest in embarrassment. She smirks, shaking her head and turning her attention to the professor’s current ramblings on B and HB pencils. Steve opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it.

What would he even say? How would he get away with trying to talk to her in the middle of the lecture? The professor would hear him, he’d get called out, everyone would see him–

She huffs, turning to another blank notebook page. Steve side-eyes her as she quietly tears the page out and scribbles something on the first line. Side-eyeing Steve, a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she discreetly slides the paper over to him.

hi stranger.

Steve can’t help but grin. It spills across his lips as more heat blooms, trailing up his ears and down his neck. Trying not to seem too eager, he clicks his own pen and scrawls a response. The professor’s voice fades into background noise, going through one ear and out the other. He’s a goner and so is Steve.

YOURE THE STRANGER, STRANGER

He slides the paper back to her. She scoffs a laugh, smile growing wider.

last minute class drop + switch. u know how it is.

TRUE. DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE AN ART KID

She shakes her head, quickly scribbling when Steve cocks his head, mouthing a ‘what?’

film kid. have to take art class for credit. only one available.

Steve’s surprised at her response, nodding once he thinks it over. It makes sense.

She makes sense.

It fits her. It fits the way she moves, the way she carries herself, the ease in which she comes up with witty comebacks. It’s then and there Steve really thinks about the contrast between the two of them– the way he’s perceived versus how he perceives her. He’s a frat brother, a six-foot-two guy with muscles he doesn’t know how to use yet, and a lifelong artist who doesn’t fit in– no matter how much he tries to claw and fight his way out of the hole people dig and throw him in.

If anything, he doesn’t make sense.

Brow furrowing and jaw set, Steve’s caught in the downward spiral he’s been fighting to keep at bay since coming to Richards– since he pledged his life away to Sigma Theta Beta and the never-ending identity crisis the brothers force upon him every waking moment. But, it’s with her that he feels more like himself than anywhere else in the goddamned world. It’s with her he wants to– willingly– be himself. He wants to be himself with her.

He, however, doesn’t realize the hack job he’s performing on his poor cheek tissue until a soft hand covers his, squeezing lightly. Warmth spreads like wildfire across Steve’s skin, breaking him free and bringing him back to the real world. Concern veils over his barista’s expression; her soft, searching gaze jumps between his baby blues.

‘You okay?’ she mouths, studying him, hand still on his. Her brow twitches upwards when he still doesn’t respond. Steve holds up an index finger and goes back to responding on the paper.

SORRY. LOT ON MY MIND

She nods heavily in agreement.

same. pencildick up there is putting me to sleep. how do you even do it?

Steve bites a laugh back.

DRAWING, COUNTING THE CLOCK

Before she takes it back Steve adds,

AND NOW YOU.

Her smile is bright enough to light up the darkened lecture hall.

Two whole pages are filled by the time class lets out. Front and back.

Steve allows his barista to take the lead in following other students out of the lecture hall. Buzzing conversations reveal a shared eagerness to get the hell out of there and go spend the rest of their Thursday night doing something else more worthy of their precious time. Steve slings his bag over his shoulder as he follows close behind, verbally continuing their written conversation about her shift from earlier in the day and swapping ridiculous ways on how they’ll manage to work every type of pencil into their midterm.

As he plods next to her, Steve fights an innate urge to place a light hand on her lower back to guide her out on their way to the parking lot. Instead, he gets the door, jokingly half-bowing with an outstretched arm to the second set of double doors. Continuing out of the building, Steve takes a breath, deciding now is the perfect time to ask if she’s busy tonight. Instead, though, she stops abruptly. Steve runs directly into her, arms jutting out instinctively to steady both of them out of sheer instinct. Grabbing her shoulders, she spins around to face him, closer to his chest than either realized.

Steve feels his ears turn red again. She looks up at him, blinking before taking a step back, lips parting slightly. An awkward beat hangs in the air before Steve clears his throat and rubs his neck.

"You, uh,” he swallows, preparing himself for the inevitable, “You maybe wanna go grab a bite t’eat, or somethin’?"

Her eyes widen, lips twitching at the corners. She looks like she’s about to answer before quickly realizing something, as if internally scolding herself for even looking excited. Pressing her lips together, her eyes dart back to her phone.

"Shit, I–" she quickly types a response and shoves it back in her pocket, exhaling in frustration.

"What is it?"

"I would love to, Steve. I really would, but," she closes her eyes and sighs, "I can't. My sisters need me back at the house. They said it’s an ‘emergency.’" She adds sarcastic air quotes, rolling her eyes.

"Oh!” Relief fills Steve’s chest, thankful she’s not purposefully blowing him off with some shitty excuse. “Okay, no yeah, I–I totally get it, family can be-"

She smiles softly, shaking her head and taking his hand to run a thumb over his knuckles. The gesture is so casual, so soft, yet it sends goosebumps up Steve’s arm.

"Oh, no. No, they're not my actual sisters. They're, um, my sorority sisters." She flinches as 'sorority' leaves her lips.

Steve blanches, swallowing a disbelieving laugh. He can't help the lopsided smile spreading across his face. He can’t help taking both her hands in his and holding them in excitement. The odds of it– all of it– all the things, of all the people, she’s the one to make him feel less alone. She’s the one that understands everything.

He tries, and fails, to contain his excitement.

"No, I– I completely get it. My frat brothers are insufferable and I'm the newest pledge, so–"

It’s her turn to blanche. "You? You’re a new pledge, too?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I’m required by my scholarship–"

"Oh thank God it's not just me!"

"There's one for sisters, too?" Steve gawks. He’s truly in shock at the audacity of Richards to make any student required to endure the circle of Hell that is Greek life. He squeezes her hands. She matches him.

"Of course there is, meathead,” she snorts. “Title nine, or whatever the hell."

Steve nods. "I can’t tell you how glad I am not to be alone in this. It's fucked up, but maybe not as much now that I know you're in the same boat as me."

He pulls her ever-so-slightly closer. She lets him.

"Guess that makes you the Jack to my Rose."

Steve furrows his bro, cocking his head like a confused puppy.

"Oh God– Don't tell me you've never seen Titanic," she gasps, feigning offense and sending Steve off course, thinking he’s fucked up somehow.

Sarcasm isn’t his strong suit.

"I, uh– no, not that I know of. I–I mean I've heard of the Titanic, but I don't remember the– well I know there's a movie, but I–"

She laughs, full and genuine, stepping forward as her hands leave his, placing one on his shoulder. Her touch is soft, gentle, more comforting than anything he’s ever felt.

"I'll show ya some time. Don't worry."

Squeezing his bicep, her fingertips glide down to his hand, grazing his fingers for the slightest moment before slipping between them, lacing them together. Electricity shoots up Steve's arm. Without another word she leads him out of the building, walking down the sidewalk lit by the moon rising overhead and scattered street lamps illuminating the parking lot.

Steve decides then and there he’ll go wherever she takes him. Anywhere. Everywhere.

She stops at the edge of the parking lot and turns to him. "This is where I leave ya, my car’s over yonder.” She nods to a blue sedan with a Richards sticker on the back windshield sitting underneath one of the street lamps. “Plus, I’d like to save you walkin’ me to my car for another night.”

Butterflies. Steve nods. She scoffs a laugh.

“Text me, meathead. I'll see ya tomorrow?"

“Tomorrow.”

She releases his hand in slow motion and Steve hopes she’s relishing every bit of physical contact with him as he is with her. He heads to his own car parked in the darker side of the lot under the shadows of the perimeter trees and dimmer lamps, swaying languidly and ambling across the pavement in a trance. Steve makes a note to himself: watch more movies, because he sure feels like he's in one.

The trance is broken when a split second of what sounds like a scream echoes over the lot and is snuffed out just as abruptly as it started.

Steve freezes, key halfway into unlocking the driver’s side door. Ears prick up, breath held firm in his chest. Turning over his shoulder, he gasps, startled as a blue car– her car– slowly backs out from under the streetlamp and exits onto the road casually. Steve watches it disappear from view. The sound of the engine gunning it down the road leaves Steve alone in the dark, a sick uneasiness pooling in his gut.

He gets in his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat and pulling out his phone.

You okay? Did you hear that?

Steve turns the engine over and throws the car into drive, foot hard on the brake before checking her text back.

Hear what? I’m okay! :)

The uneasiness doesn’t leave him. She doesn’t usually text like that.

“Fuck, get a grip, Steve,” he mutters to himself, resting his head against the steering wheel. He takes a second to gather himself and calm his nerves. The paranoia he’s been trained to feel thanks to his brothers, in combination with the fear of fucking everything up with his barista tonight, must be mixing together and clashing against every active nerve in his body. He’s fine. She’s fine.

She’s obviously driving right now, of course she wouldn’t fucking text how she normally does. She’s probably using voice text. Calm. Down.

Steve sends another text before tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat, the unease refusing to dissipate. He turns on the radio, turning up the song blasting from the speakers in a sorry attempt to silence his racing thoughts.

No big deal. Get home safe.

His phone stays silent the rest of the night. It stays silent as he gets home, as he throws a bowl of ramen together, as he throws himself onto his bed and flips open his laptop to watch some random brainrot he finds on Netflix.

He nods off, letting himself be taken by exhaustion as the uneaten bowl of ramen sits on his desk, growing colder, while the dim computer light and hum of dialogue pull Steve further and further into a dreamless sleep.

His phone dies silently in his hand.

93 notes · View notes

reducedemtasketch · 2 years

Text

Brooklyn Steve

Commission for @ribbonsflyingoutthewindow (thank you!)

#fanart #Steve rogers #steven grant rogers #modern Steve Rogers

147 notes · View notes

darthbloodorange · 1 year

Text

Captain America visits the Hospital where Steve works. Steve's colleagues tease him about his excitement, saying it rivals the kids in their ward. A slight exaggeration… but Steve would be lying if he says didn't admire the man or find him very attractive.

For the: ✦ @allcapsbingo , prompt: “AU: Hospital Setting” [N1] (Card: AC1069)

Word count: N/a - Moodboard Title: A visit from Captain America Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Warnings: Hospitals Major Tags: Hospital AU, Medical AU, Fluff, Nurse Steve Rogers, Captain America Sam Wilson, Modern Steve Rogers, Pining Steve Rogers ~ Summery: Captain America visits the Hospital where Steve works. Steve's colleagues tease him about his excitement, saying it rivals the kids in their ward. A slight exaggeration… but Steve would be lying if he says didn't admire the man or find him very attractive.

#AllCapsBingo2023 #SamSteve #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Hospital AU #Medical AU #Fluff #Nurse Steve Rogers #Hospitals.#Captain America Sam Wilson #Modern Steve Rogers #Pining Steve Rogers #DarthBloodOrange #DBO Moodboards #Moodboards

27 notes · View notes

lilyinthesnow · 1 year

Text

I'm back! New Stucky! Eee! 🥳

Link in the replies because I don't trust tumblr lol

#my fic #ao3 #stucky #bottom bucky #bucky barnes #modern bucky #steve rogers #modern steve rogers #top steve rogers #valentines #fanfic

26 notes · View notes

lynlee494 · 4 months

Text

Dawn of Salvation

For the record, it was not the Winter Soldier who brought on the end of humanity.

It was more of a group effort really. And that clutz Murphy, a product of Hydra nepotism putting someone in a position they shouldn’t be in.

And now several years on Bucky has a lot of confusing memories, but at least the fast paced environment and literal walking nightmares means he doesn’t really have time to dwell too much on the more distant past.

In the end none of it mattered anyways.

Bucky is merely surviving, avoiding best he can the lingering human population and avoiding Empties when possible.

This task is going well, until he gets stuck with a small but fierce blonde named Steve Rogers.

*Story complete*

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Stucky #Fanfiction #Pre-Serum Steve #Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes #Shrinkyclinks #Alternate Universe #Post Apocalypse #Hurt Bucky Barnes #Protective Bucky Barnes #Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse #Modern Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers is Not Captain America #Bucky/Steve #Wintershield #Stevebucky #bbe masquerade 2023

2 notes · View notes

louikazooie · 2 years

Text

Bucky comes home and finds Steve waiting.

A pwp with face fucking, bukkake, and a little bit of a spit kink.

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #steve/bucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #this is pwp #my fic #ao3 #ao3 stuff #captain America bucky barnes #modern Steve Rogers #shrankyclanks #pwp

9 notes · View notes

spiderstarki · 8 months

Text

• MODERN FAMILY

Yes I love the series so much

900 notes · View notes

incorrectquotesmcu · 1 month

Text

Steve: Yes, I'm a caring a person. And without Tony, I would just keep giving and giving and giving. I'm like a big runaway charity truck and Tony is my off-ramp full of safety gravel.

Tony:

Steve: He knows how to say no. He can always put himself first. He certainly can turn his back on someone suffering.

Tony, looking offended:

Tony: No, really, keep going.

Steve: He—

Tony, looking at Steve: Don't keep going!

#source: modern family #steve rogers #steve rogers incorrect quotes #captain america #tony stark #tony stark incorrect quotes #iron man #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes

195 notes · View notes

kurozawa46 · 4 months

Text

A very Stucky holiday season ☆ ⋆｡°✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎ

254 notes · View notes

super-marvel-dc · 6 months

Text

Soap: The floor is lava!

Ghost: *helps Y/N onto the counter*

Bucky: *kicks Steve off the sofa*

Steve: *lays on the floor*

Soap: ...Are you okay?

Steve: No.

#yes i do love to mix up fandoms and no you can't stop me #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect call of duty modern warfare quotes #incorrect call of duty mw2 quotes #call of duty mw2 incorrect quotes #call of duty

320 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 9 months

Text

Windfall

Summary: You are the last unmarried lady. A spinster.

Pairing: Royal!Stucky x Royal!Reader

Warnings: 30+ reader, modern royal au, old fashioned society when it comes to the age of unmarried women (kinda), polyamorous, throuple marriages are allowed in this world, mentions of rejection, the reader is a loner, bitchy ladies, established mlm relationship,

Square filled for @allcapsbingo: B5: Loneliness

Words: 940+

The ladies sneer when you pass them by. You don’t spare them a glance, aware that they do not like you.

People always fear what they do not understand. Like a woman who wants more in life than being her husband's arm candy.

“I don’t know why she holds her head high like that. She’s the last unmarried daughter. Even her younger sibling and almost every cousin are engaged to a gentleman. The last one will be married soon and the poor soul not getting the chance to marry one of the younger ones will settle for the windfall.”

The other women giggle at Lady Dorothy’s words. “You’re right. No one wants the old spinster. A man wants a young woman, a beautiful innocent blossom. Not a withering rose.”

You don’t take their words to heart. They are not wrong. All the gentlemen roaming your parents' house only came for your sister or the cousins your father took in after their parents passed away.

“Lady Y/N,” you sigh when Lady Sharon makes her way toward you. At least she’s kind enough to talk to you in public. “There you are!”

“My dear,” Lord Loki, Sharon’s husband greets you. He bows and presses a chaste kiss to your hand. He’s one of the few men seeing you as more than an old spinster. Loki appreciates your wit. “How have you been?”

“Fine, Lord Loki,” you reply. Unlike the other ladies in the room, you look him straight in the eyes. You’re not the kind of woman cowering in front of a man only because he has a cock between his legs. “I hope you are well too.”

“Very well,” he smiles at his wife. “My brother finally got engaged.”

“Again,” Sharon adds. “He’s a little fickle when it comes to courting for a woman. He should grow up and settle for one lady.”

“I understand him well,” you nod thoughtfully. “It isn’t easy to find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. You should choose with your heart and mind.”

You barely escaped the nagging ladies and their gossip. Now you are hiding at the library to read another book. Loki and Sharon wouldn’t mind. They invited you to use their library when you are around and read as many books as you want to.

Nose burying in another book you don’t recognize someone sneaking inside the library.

“Stevie, you look so good today.” Your eyes flit up when you hear voices behind one of the shelves. “I can’t wait to put my hands on you.”

“Buck, we can’t. Not here.”

Frowning you listen closely. There is commotion behind the shelf, and you are sure, the men are up to no good.

You close the book and get up to find out what’s going on. If someone tries to steal Loki’s books, you will stop them at all costs.

Silently sneaking toward the shelf, you practice your speech in your mind. You’re not shy, but two men can be intimidating. Especially when they try to commit a crime.

You round the shelf, stopping in your tracks as you face the men. Your breath hitches in your throat because the men do not try to steal Loki’s books. No. They are kissing each other passionately.

You recognize the men. James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. You heard rumors about them being in a relationship but never talked to them before.

You swallow thickly. What can you do? Say something? Tell them to not do such a thing at Loki’s library.

The only thing you can do is turn back around and walk toward the armchair to read your book. If you leave the library now, they will know you saw them. If you say something, they will get mad.

So, you sit back down, open your book, and start reading. You can still hear them kiss and moan but try to blend the noises they make out. It’s inappropriate to listen to their lovemaking. Not to mention sinful and forbidden.

You close your eyes and bite your lower lip. Their moans go straight to your lower half, the sacred garden you only touch at night, hidden in your bedroom.

“Aw, Bucky. Look at that pretty angel touching herself for us. Do you think we should help her out?”

Your eyes snap open as you feel eyes on you. You didn’t realize that the book slipped from your fingers and that you bunched up your skirt to slip your hand into your panties.

“I-no. I didn’t,” you lick your dry lips. “I wouldn’t… no. This is a misunderstanding.” You furiously shake your head.

The men watch your move your fingers, smirking as you cannot stop yourself from touching your clit.

“Doll, you are rubbing your sweet pearl for us, huh?” Bucky’s eyes are glued to your spread legs. “Tell me, did you like watching Stevie and me?”

You nod.

“Did it make your petals all wet?” Steve husks. “Did you touch yourself because you wanted us to touch you?”

You nod again.

“Stevie,” Bucky whispers lowly. “Do you know who she is? The angel no one dared to marry. It’s said that she’s a fiery little thing. Untamable and mouthy.”

“I’m not!” You grunt. “How dare you say such a thing!”

“Fiery and naughty, my beloved,” Steve cups his lover’s face to kiss him deeply. He moans into Bucky’s mouth, making you gasp loudly. “I guess she needs two strong pairs of hands to tame her.”

“Indeed,” Bucky smirks. “I bet her father will be so happy when she gets married to not one but two Lords making her an honest woman…”

Tags in reblog.

#stucky x reader #stucky x y/n #stucky x you #allcapsbingo #allcapsbingo2023 #bucky barnes #steve rogers #modern royalty au

482 notes · View notes

jen-with-a-pen · 2 months

Text

ALL TIED UP - FOUR

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: A look into the House of Sigma Beta Theta (ΣBΘ). Annoyed with the vague hinting at the party on Friday, Steve confronts Clint and stands up for once– and it only slightly backfires.

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 1386

warnings: cursing, food mention, meeting the rest of the brothers, dudebro Clint, fuckboy Tony, singling out/exclusion, power dynamics, Steve's just trying to make it through the day man

a/n: we get to meet the rest of the fraternity! so sorry it's been a while. the holidays, seasonal depression, and work happened and i didn't really have the motivation to write for steve again until recently. hope yall like it ❤ p.s. thank you all SO SO much again on the continuing love for filthy impetuous souls. it means the world ❤

This chapter was not beta'd by anyone else. All mistakes in this chapter are my own.

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥ Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Wednesday.

Dribbles of cereal milk splash onto the kitchen table as Steve switches between eating breakfast, drafting a perfect-but-also-not-too-perfect text to his barista, and reading the newspaper. The newspaper thing makes him feel like an old fucking geezer, but it reminds him of mornings with his Ma back home. He misses her.

He makes a mental note to call her this weekend.

Munching on another spoonful, he nearly chokes at the sound of slow, calculated footsteps descending the stairs. Normally he’s the only one home on Wednesday mornings. Normally he can sit in comfortable silence in the kitchen without needing to sneak around the fucking house. However, this specific Wednesday morning was not normal– all the guys were hungover from the party the night before. Upon realization, Steve reluctantly swallows the half-chewed gob of Cheerios. It lands in his stomach like a rock as he frantically looks about the scene on the table; he can’t decide fast enough whether to hide the newspaper, or his phone– or himself– before whomever is around the corner sees him outside his bedroom, outside his element.

Tony Stark is the first to stride into the kitchen. Jet-black hair slicked back with yesterday's pomade complimented by a face riddled with stubble. He’s a mismatched mess of a worn Yankees jersey, khakis, and the newest Nikes, all of which are covered by the stench of luxury cologne and seven types of vodka. Even with designer sunglasses on, he winces at the fluorescent kitchen lights while dragging his feet straight to the coffee pot.

"’Sup, Rogers."

As far as they are into the semester, it’s the first time Tony directly acknowledges Steve in a way that isn't sarcastic or followed by a snooty comment under his breath. Steve quietly tips his chin to Tony out of politeness. From his perch at the kitchen table, he watches Tony pour a mug of coffee before slyly taking a mini Fireball out of his shirt pocket, dumping it into the hot liquid. He stirs his concoction with a finger, tasting it with a faint grimace before sipping.

To each their own, Steve thinks.

"Are you really reading the fuckin' newspaper, old timer?" Tony remarks behind his mug. Last night’s party and lack of proper hydration makes his voice raspy, deeper than usual. Steve shrugs, nodding with a faint 'yeah' in response. Steve sips his protein shake.

Tony sniffs a laugh. "Soon enough, you'll be on it."

Another slurp.

"What?" Steve chokes, a chunk of unmixed protein powder lodging itself in his esophagus.

"Hm. Nothin'."

“No, what did you–”

"Whoa! Sure is a party in here," Clint Barton jokes upon entering the kitchen, following in Tony's footsteps to the coffee maker. Compared to Tony, Clint takes his hangovers in full stride. It figures, too; the guy is a kinesiology-finance major with a nutritionist-business major of a girlfriend. Eyes full of light and mischief, hair already stylishly spiked even though he just rolled out of bed, he’s already in his usual workout shirt and sweatpants. Clint whistles to himself, taking a large tub of protein powder off the top of the fridge before fixing a shaker of protein coffee. Tony steps out of the way to the other side of the kitchen to lean against the stove, watching, lurking.

"Not until you got here, Clint," Steve attempts. Clint doesn't turn around until he's shaking his protein shaker. Loudly.

"You say sumn'?" He asks, smirking when Steve begins to shake his head and go back to his phone.

"Steven, I kid, I kid.”

Steve gives a tight-lipped smile, looking down at his soggy Cheerios. The knot in his chest tightens. The milk smells sour.

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve looks up, locking eyes with Clint. He swallows, hands gripping the newspaper and crumpling the comics section– his favorite.

“You have fun last night?” Clint asks, dropping more powdered supplements into his shaker.

“Y-Yeah, it was fun.”

“You see any cute honeys you like?” Clint waggles his brow.

Steve’s face burns. His eyes dart to Tony, who’s hiding a knowing smirk behind his coffee mug.

“I think, yeah,” he shrugs.

Clint laughs, lips morphing into a knowing, dark grin. “Well if you think they were cute last night, just wait ‘til Friday. You’ll believe it, then.”

Another vague nod to Friday. Steve’s brow furrows, leaning forward in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

Clint blinks, surprised at the confrontation, and sets his shaker down on the counter before approaching the kitchen table, hands slamming into the wood. Steve’s cereal sloshes, splashing a bit onto the screen of his phone.

“You wanna ask me that again, Steven?” Clint hisses with a challenging smirk. “Go ahead, y’know I can’t hear real well. I didn’t hear ya the first time.” He leans in with a hand cupped to his ear and a mocking face. “What’s that? Huh?”

“Nothin’,” Steve mumbles.

“Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s knuckles are white.

“Sorry! Come again?” Clint’s smirk grows wider the further he leans in.

Steve stands abruptly, slamming his own palms onto the table. “I said–!”

“You said what?”

Steve and Clint turn to the direction of Bucky’s voice as it drifts into the kitchen before he and Sam do. Hands pocketed, brow raised, ponytail bobbing, Bucky looks sternly between Steve and Clint. Sam mirrors him with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Steve straightens instantly; Clint follows suit, stretching a hand out to Sam to exchange high fives. Steve’s eye twitches.

“Hm?” Bucky questions, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. He looks from Tony– who just nurses his coffee, checking stocks on his phone– to Clint– who lifts his hands in defense, acting confused– and finally to Steve– who sets his jaw, trying his best to level his breathing and frustration.

Steve swallows, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t say anything.” He tries to keep his tone level, convincing. Bucky nods, gaze shifting to Clint.

“Nothin’, boss, y’know me.” Clint’s lips twitch along with his brow.

Bucky’s eyes dart between them before he turns back to Sam, who leans against the fridge with crossed arms. Steve locks eyes with him for a second longer before he turns to Bucky and shrugs. The moment hangs in the air, silent and tense, like every other time all five of them are alone in the same room. Steve’s always the one that feels the tension, though.

“As you were,” Bucky concludes. The kitchen reverts back to normal as everyone resumes the start to their days. Steve stands idly by, looking down at his milk-coated paper and phone, his breakfast soggy and ruined. He sighs and begins to clean up. Before he leaves the kitchen, Bucky grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Forgot to ask. You inviting anyone?”

Steve responds with a confused look.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “To the party, Stevie,” he clarifies, flashing a smile differing from his usual, knowing smirk.

Steve hesitates, looking to Sam then back to Bucky. “Kinda, yeah,” he shrugs. All eyes are on him and the kitchen stills once again. Bucky’s brow rockets up his forehead.

“Yeah? Who?”

Steve’s Adam's apple bobs. “Uh, just–just a friend. From class.”

“But who?” Bucky’s grip on Steve’s arm tightens.

“She’s just a–” Steve immediately bites his tongue. It's too late.

“She? You have a she-friend?” Clint asks incredulously. Even Tony looks at Steve from behind his lowered sunglasses. All eyes are on the blond whose eyes dart around helplessly.

“I–Wh–She’s just a friend from class, that’s it,” Steve defends, heat pooling in his cheeks as he stares pointedly into Bucky’s cool blues. Bucky holds him for a second more before releasing his arm, dusting off Steve’s shoulders, smiling.

“We’ll make sure to give her a real warm welcome, then,” Bucky winks.

Unnerved, Steve quickly makes his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room while mixed conversations from the kitchen chase after him. He doesn’t bother listening. Once he enters his room, he triple checks the locks on the door before slouching into his secondhand office chair. Popping in earbuds, he hits play on the album he fell asleep to the night prior as his fingers fly over his phone’s keyboard, coming to a stop when the adrenaline does.

He reads over the text, chewing his lip, and hits send.

Hey, it’s Steve

who?

Meathead.

oh i know just wanted to hear u say it

Don’t you mean see it?

damn. got me there

nice first attempt at texting btw. solid 8/10, good introduction

8/10??

What can a guy do to earn a 10/10?

hmm

come by the cafe later and try a new drink i made ;)

Deal.

68 notes · View notes