#diabetic! steve

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.

(Steve would do the same for her).

Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.

64 and going down. Not a good sign.

Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”

Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”

His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.

“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”

Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.

“This tastes like shit, by the way.”

“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”

The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.

Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.

57 after he pricked. Thank god.

It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.

He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.

“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.

“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”

Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.

Chrissy would love her.

He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.

“How’s my blizzard?”

He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.

The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.

“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?��

[jadewritesficshere]

Anniversary

Steve Harrington x female!reader

You and Steve celebrate your one year anniversary.

Warnings: pet names (Honey), p in v, creampie, cum play, breeding kink (not really but I'm adding it just in case)

18+only

You could hardly tear your eyes from Steve. He had worked all day and had just come home. He had changed into some shorts and his red sweater. His hair was falling slightly into his face, causing him to run his hand up and back through his hair.

Steve looked no different then any other day, but in this moment, even with the tiredness seeping through his bones, you could feel the love radiating off him as he smiled at you. The adoration in his gaze filled you with warmth.

You scoot closer to him on the couch, his arm absently going to the top of the couch so you could get closer. You move so close your thighs are flush against each other. You lean your ear against his chest, hearing his steady heart beat.

Steady. That's what Steve is. Reliable. Strong. Always there for you. One year together, and you couldn't imagine life without him. You both had to work today, unfortunately, so you decided to celebrate your one year anniversary tomorrow.

"What are you thinking Honey?" Steve gently trailed his fingers up and down your arm. "Kinda want to give you your present today." You mumble, turning your face more into his chest. You inhale deeply, the scent of Steve's cologne mixed with his sweat being so tantalizing. It was Steve. You wanted to bottle that smell.

Steve's chest vibrates as he chuckles," I thought we weren't getting gifts?" You shrug slightly. You don't even care if he didn't get you one, you wanted to get Steve something. You could buy every item in the mall and it still wouldn't be enough to show him how much you loved him.

"Want to exchange gifts tonight?" Steve asks softly. You pull back to look into his eyes," I thought we weren't exchanging gifts?" Steve's face flushes as he gives you a shy grin," Well i couldn't not get something for my best girl."

"Best girl?" You raise an eyebrow," Better be your only girl." Steve blinks and smiles," You're the only girl, Honey. The best and most beautiful the-" you duck your head as Steve scoffs," You are stop it! You're beautiful and amazing, you are my only girl. You're it for me."

Your heart flutters in your chest and you can't stop the smile that spreads across your face. Steve lightly taps your ass to signal for you to move. You sit up and he grins at you.

Steve slaps his knees before standing up," Well, alright then." He motions for you to follow and you stand quickly.

You waddle after him and the image of a chick following a mother hen pops into your head. You giggle slightly as Steve looks back over his shoulder at you. "Watcha laughing about?" He asks and you shake your head in response. He smiles softly and reaches back with his hand, grabbing yours and interlocking your fingers.

He leads you into the bedroom and drops your hand to open the dresser and start rifling through it. You lightly kick the door shut as Steve searches under socks and underwear for the gift.

You go over to the closet to grab his gift. You can't help but start to bite your lip from nerves. What if he doesn't like it? What if it isn't good enough? You had spent hours trying to find it but-

"Enough of that now, Honey," Steve murmurs as his thumb drags your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth. You inhale sharply from shock, not expecting him to have been so close. You turn and stare into his warm eyes. Steve's thumb lingers on your lip for a second longer before he slowly draws his hand away.

You push the rectangular box into his chest, his hand coming up reflexively to catch the gift. Your hand drifts off the package onto his pec, fingers flexing slightly snd squeezing. Steve smirks eyes trailing up and down your form. You clear your throat and tap the gift," Happy anniversary, Babe."

Steve beams at you and hands you a small square box," Happy anniversary, Honey. Here's to many more." You giggle elatedly and take the small box.

He shakes his gift, as if it would give him a clue to what is inside. Steve can't help but half laugh at your amused expression. He loves seeing you smile and would do anything to make you happy. He carefully opens the gift, folding the paper to use again later. The lid slides off the box to reveal a hockey jersey.

Steve's eyes light up, "Holy shit!" "You know how hard it is to find these jerseys in the middle of Indiana?" You tease as you watch him hold it up to himself. Steve is rambling excitedly about the player as he runs his hand over the number. The statistics fly over your head, but you are glad he liked your gift. You look down at your own present.

You tear open the carefully wrapped box, definitely wrapped better than yours. Ripped wrapping paper falls on the ground in pieces. You lift the lid on your box, tossing it somewhere behind you. Inside is a silver chain with the letter S on it. "Wanted everyone to know you're my girl." Steve takes the necklace out and motions for you to turn around.

You do so and feel the coolness of the chain lay across your neck. Steve fumbles connecting the chain for second, mumbling about how small the chain is, before getting it latched. He walks around you and stares at the S that sits above your chest. "Beautiful." He mumbles before looking into your eyes.

"Guess I'll have to get you a ring so everyone knows you're mine." You hands slide up his shoulders and land behind his neck. Steve blushes slightly as he grins wildly at you," Not if I get you one first."

Steve leans in slowly, lips barely brushing yours. A shaky exhale from either or both of you occurs before your lips meet. Soft and sweet.

It soon turns more frantic. Soft and sweet becomes passion and lust. Hands roam, tongues sweeping into each other's mouths, teeth lightly clashing.

The back of your legs hits the bed, you weren't even aware of Steve moving the two of you. You pull away long enough to discard your clothes, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. Steve trips trying to take off his boxers, falling face first onto the bed. He grumbles as he turns around, but all grumbling stops as you climb atop his lap.

Steve's hands automatically grab onto your hips, pulling you closer to him. You lean over him, holding yourself up with one hand as the other threads through his chest hair. Steve licks his lips as he eyes your bare breasts.

You grind slowly against Steve, feeling the veins on the outside of his cock rub against your folds. The tip of his cock rubbing against your clit in just the right way. Steve's hands grab and knead your ass as his eyes focus on the S of your necklace swaying against your breasts with every roll of your hips.

"Oh fuck me," Steve groans, darting his head forward to kiss and lick at your chest. You gasp in surprise and try not to moan at the feeling. Every one of your senses feels alight. Steve trails kisses up to your neck, leaving an open mouth kiss pressed against you. You can feel the warmth of his tongue collide with the cool of the necklace.

You aren't sure how long has passed, it could be five minutes or fifty, but you can feel the pressure building. Steve doesn't stop kissing, licking, and sucking on every inch of skin he can reach.

Stars alight behind your eyes as your hips spasm. You can feel your muscles tense and relax, the feeling of immense pleasure rushing over you. You aren't sure if you said his name or just moaned, but Steve's murmurs of praise fill your ears.

When the orgasm subsides, you can feel your release dripping down your thighs. Steve slowly rolls the two of you over, him propped up above you. "Did so good for me," Steve murmurs, kissing you lightly. Steve reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom but you stop him and pull him back in for another kiss.

"I loved the present you gave me earlier," you mumble against his lips, pulling back slightly. Steve beams down at you, fingers trailing lightly down your face. "But it isn't what I wanted," you add, blinking up at Steve. Steve frowns slightly, brows furrowed. "Shit, did you ask for something and I forgo-"

"No." You smile, hand trailing up and down his lower abdomen, dangerously close to his dick. He shivers slightly at the feeling," then uh what was it you wanted? I'll go get it. Promise, anything you want I'll give you." Your grin turns slightly wicked as you slide your hands around to his ass, "I want to fuck you without a condom. Your cum. Inside me."

Steve groans and drops his head to your shoulder, faltering and pressing all his weight into you. His head burrows into your neck. His voice hitches," Fuck." You feel his dick twitch before a warmth spurts onto your abdomen. Steve moans as his hips stutter forward. You blink in shock before the realization hits.

"Did you just-" you look down as if you could see through Steve's body to your stomach. Steve whimpers slightly, nodding his head into your neck. "Sorry fuck sorry" Steve presses kisses into your neck with each word. Your hand trails up and down his spine, mind reeling.

You knew Steve would like the suggestion. You weren't expecting him to come just from saying it though. It was...kind of hot. The fact that he was so into you the thought of it alone sent him over the edge?

You shifted slightly under his weight as you felt that needy feeling appear again. Steve pulls his head back and gives you a pout," Fuck i wasn't expecting that. You can't just say shit like that." Steve props himself up and hovers over you, both of you looking at the evidence of his excitement smeared across your abdomen.

Steve sat up so he was kneeling between your legs. "What did you say you wanted?" Steve scooped some of the cum onto two of his fingers," My cum inside you?" Steve trailed his fingers down and slowly pushed into your weeping hole.

You moan at the feeling of his big fingers filling you up. It also felt slightly dirty, Steve fingering his cum into you. It was taboo, but so hot, you could feel yourself get wetter. Steve thrusts his fingers in and out, slowly at first before speeding up. He crooks his finger to hit that spot in you. You gasp as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts.

You grab his wrist haltering his movements, "Can you-? Are you?" You look down at his half hard cock," Need you." Steve swallows and nods, removing his fingers making you frown at the loss. Steve's fingers are coated in both of your releases, glistening in the light. He strokes his cock a few times, it hardening with each stroke.

"You look so good like this," Steve murmurs, leaning back over you. The tip of his dick catches against your hole, causing you both to inhale sharply.

You can feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly slides into you. Steve's brow furrows as his mouth falls open," Oh shit- can't believe you're- fuck." Steve moans slightly as he bottoms out.

He pauses only for a second before setting a brutal pace, fast and hard. Each thrust has you gasping. "Gonna fuck you so good. Gonna fill you up." Steve moans into your ear as he nips at your neck.

Each thrusts hits just right. Your breath catches, your heart beating wildly. The love and adoration in the room overflows, so sickly sweet. "I love you," you gasp into Steve's mouth as you kiss him. Steve groans into the kiss, licking deep into your mouth.

Your body shakes as you come undone. Your vision fades to black and the only thought you can think is Steve. Euphoria from every angle, pleasure alighting every nerve in your body.

Steve moans as he feels you clench around him. He picks up his pace slightly before he comes. You can feel the thick ropes of his release paint your insides. You half whine half moan at the feeling.

Steve's chest rubs against you with his labored breaths. He rests his weight on his forearms so he isnt pressed against you- not that you would have minded. "Did i say it back?" Steve asks causing you to blink up st him. His hair has flopped onto his forehead, stuck there from the sweat, "I love you too."

Steve slowly pulls out, eyes widening as he watches your combined releases slowly leak out of your hole. He licks his lips and lightly pats your thigh before getting up to grab a washcloth from the attached bath. He returns and cleans you up before laying down next to you.

"I love you so much," Steve wraps his arms around you," Definitely need to go look for a ring." You chuckle slightly and look up at him," Not if I find one first."

[littlemissomega]

How Low Can You Go ?

Diabetic!reader x Stucky

Summary: reader’s blood sugar drops in the middle of the night

Warnings: Dangerously low blood sugar, low blood sugar symptoms (head racing, shaky, brain fog), crying, blood, mention of glucose tablets (which is kinda a medication? It helps get your blood sugar up), orange juice, fluff, pet names (Ladybug, princess, sweetie, honey, etc)

Short and sweet enough to give your hyperglycemia (high blood sugar)

For reference, any blood sugar below 70-80- depending on your dr- is considered low

Masterlist

Why is my heart pounding? Y/N wonders groggily as her eyes flutter open. She can tell something is wrong. Her skin feels clammy and her whole body is shaking. Y/N slowly sits up, looking around confused. Her brain feels foggy and she can’t think straight. Tear well in her eyes from the frustration and she put her face in her hands.

“Are you okay, baby?” Bucky asks, voice thick with sleep.

Y/N bursts out in tears and he shoots up in bed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting a hand on her cheek. Her skin is cold and sticky under his palm, “Steve, wake up,”

Y/N feels Steve sturs and sits up on her other side.

“Ladybug, what’s wrong?” Steve asks, rubbing her back.

“Don’t kn-know can’t think heart don’t know don’t fee-feel good,” Y/N sniffles.

“What’s your blood sugar?” Bucky asks, turning on the lamp.

Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, nuzzles her face into Steve’s chest in the bright light.

“Huh? Don’t know too dizzy,” she whimpers.

“It’s okay, princess, we’ll make it all better,” Steve soothes, wrapping his arm around her and Bucky grabs her phone off the nightstand.

  Bucky goes straight to her Dexcom app.

“Shit,” he mumbles, pushing the blankets off and jumping out of bed.

“What? What is it?” Steve asks, tightening his grip about Y/N

“40.1 (2.2mmol/L) with double arrows down,” Bucky calls as he runs down the hall to the kitchen.

Bucky’s hands tremble as he grabs two bottles of orange juice from the fridge, as well as Y/N’s glucose tablets.

“Let’s manually check, baby,” Steve suggests, gently turning her so her back is against his chest. He grabs her diabetes bag off the nightstand and gets the glucometer (what checks how much sugar is in your blood) out. He quickly puts a strip in before getting the lancet (finger pricker) out. He quickly cleans her shaking index finger with an alcohol swab before pricking this finger.

“Oww Stevie,” Y/N whines.

“I know baby, I’m sorry,” he soothes, wiping the blood up with the strip. Steve lifts her still bleeding finger to his lips and sucks on it gently. 3…2…1…

“39.3, Buck!” Steve calls, releasing her finger with a pop.

“That bad?” Y/N slurs.

“Don’t close your eyes, Ladybug, Bucky will be right back,” Steve tells Y/N, gently tapping her cheek as her eyes start to close.

“Don’t li-like it,” she responds. Steve wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“I know, baby. Here’s Bucky!” Steve points out as Bucky plops down on the bed.

“Here you go, Ladybug,” Bucky voices, opening the orange juice and lifting it to her lips.

Y/N struggles to part her dry lips, still feeling confused. The sugary, tart juice is a shock to her system and she almost chokes on it.

“There you go, baby, think up,” Steve whispers, placing a hand on the back of her head.

“Take this too,” Bucky adds, opening the glucose tablets and getting two out. He gently parts her lips with his thumb and places them on her tongue before lifting the juice back up. She swallows them without hesitating.

“You’re doing so good, honey,” Steve soothes, “Keep drinking it,”

Y/N obeys, swallowing until the last drop is gone.

“Do you think that’s enough?” Steve whispers.

“I think? I don’t wanna overtreat and it goes high. Let’s just wait 15 minutes and recheck,”

“Bucky?” 

“Yes, baby,” Bucky responds, putting a hand on his girlfriend’s leg.

“I’m sor…sorry I woke you up,” she stutters.

“It’s okay princess! I’m sorry you’re feeling icky. You’re gonna start feeling better soon, honey,” 

Bucky places a hand on Y/N’s cheek and she leans into it.

“I love you,” she mumbles.

“I love you too,” Bucky smiles.

“And I love you,” Y/N repeats, flopping her head back on Steve’s shoulder.

“And I love you too, Ladybug,” Steve chuckles, “You’re our best girl. Always,”

Masterlist

Taglist:

@liidiaaag

@flourishandblotts-inc

@aagn360

@smromanoff

@butyoudontlookdisabled

[xd3str0yax]

Sweetheart

Diabetic teacher Steve & teacher Billy

Being a teacher was time consuming to say the least. Getting time alone during the day was a rare occurrence for him between classes and tutoring students during his off period and the students eating in his classroom during lunch. It was no secret that he was one of the more popular teachers.

What was a secret though, was why he always seemed to have his biceps covered. No matter the weather, he always made a clear effort to keep his upper arms hidden. That raised the question among his students: ‘what was Mr. Harrington hiding?’.

-•-•-•-

“How many times do I have to tell you two? Quit talking!” He typically didn’t mind his students whispering to each other during class but he’d been irritable the whole class period. “Now, I’ve noticed many of you are struggling with imagery in your essays. The key to effective imagery is good vocabulary…” He trailed off a bit as he spoke, feeling sick.

“Um… go ahead and note imagery in your independent reading books.” He said as he sat down at his desk. The behavior change was noticed by the class but with how on edge he’d been, everyone decided to keep their mouths shut.

Steve broke his ‘no phones’ policy, using it to check his CGM: continuous glucose monitor. “Fuck.” He muttered, unfortunately loud enough to earn snickers from a few students near his desk. His blood sugar level was only 57 mg/dl, AKA, too low.

He opened up his snack drawer… empty. “Crap… this is fine, everything’s fine.” He whispered to himself. Lunch was in an hour, he could wait til then. He sipped his water, hoping it would help soothe his nausea. He rested his head on his desk, hoping his students wouldn’t notice how sick he looked.

15 minutes had gone by and he felt like he was spinning. He looked up, visibly pale & disoriented, as he heard a knock and the classroom door opening. The students looked worried as they eyed their haggard teacher and the stranger approaching him. They began quietly speaking amongst themselves, unsure of what was going on.

-•-•-•-

Being a middleschool art teacher was a more relaxed job than Billy expected. He gave a lesson at the beginning of class then gave his students the rest of the time to work. After those first 30 minutes of class, he mostly just watched the class and pretended not to find humor in the many penises the hoard of pre-teens created.

He was talking to a student about an art contest she had entered when an alarm went off on his phone. He interrupted himself and rushed to his desk to check his husband’s blood sugar.

Billy went to get a teacher to cover his class while he rushed to the highschool. He grabbed the emergency bag from his car and ran over. He knew Steve had a habit of neglecting himself but he still expected Steve to take care of it after the first two alerts. Now though, it was his time to take over.

-•-•-•-

“Bills? What’re you doing here?” Steve asked. “You cant keep doing this to yourself, sweetheart.” Billy stated, coming around the desk and kneeling in front of him. The brunette’s cheeks flushed a bit as he realized all eyes in the room were on them.

“Im fine, babe.” Steve weakly protested as Billy took a case out of the desk and unzipped it. “I’m not gonna let you have a seizure in front of a bunch of teenagers just because you’re stubborn.” He said as he pricked the other man’s finger and squeezed the blood onto the test strip.

Steve was embarrassed and he wanted to be upset with Billy for double checking his blood sugar in front of his class but he knew he was right. He tried to hide his face a bit, he hated when people saw him while managing his diabetes. Even after over a decade with it, he’s still just as shy about it now as he was as a kid.

His thoughts were interrupted by Billy handing him a bottle of apple juice & bag of pretzels, it was small but should get his blood sugar up enough so he doesn’t die while waiting for his lunch break. He finished the carbs and decided to introduce the living spectacle that was lingering in the room, waiting so they could get lunch together.

“Class… this is my husband Bi- Mr. Hargrove. He’s a teacher at the middle school and he’s gonna be staying the rest of the period.” He managed to resist the urge to call Billy by his first name and then gave him the floor.

Billy was slightly panicked as the rooms attention turned to him. He wasn’t good with teenagers, that’s the main reason he didn’t become a highscool teacher. “Uh, hi! I’m Billy- or Mr. Hargrove- either one’s fine. I’m an art teacher at the middle school right across the street.”

He paused for a moment and leaned back over to Steve. “Is it ok if I explain it to them?” He asked in a hushed voice. Once he got permission, he faced the class again. “Basically, Mr. Harrington’s body can’t regulate its blood sugar so sometimes it’ll get really low and he can pass out or have seizures or die, or it can get really high and stuff can build up in his blood and he can go into a coma or die.”

He started explaining the different types of diabetes while Steve kept an eye on his blood sugar, eating carbs accordingly. Honestly, he thinks its a bit cute: all the stuff Billy’s learned just to help take care of him. It would’ve been so easy for Billy to just leave him to deal with it alone but he didn’t.

He watched billy dreamily, a fond smile crept onto his face as he started tuning back in to the conversation. At some point, Billy’s rambling turned from diabetes to a debate with a student about basketball. He loves watching those blonde curls bounce as he gets more animated when he talks about things he’s passionate about.

Billy finished his debate and came back over to check Steve again. “You feeling better, sweetheart?” He asked as he checked the monitor again. A smile growing on his face as he saw it was a somewhat normal amount again. He pressed a gentle kiss to his husbands forehead as the bell rang.

[corrodedbisexual]

Peeling fruits is a love language

Steddie (+ bg Ronance) | G | fluff | ~1200w

AO3 link

A little sketch inspired by this tumblr post, because it screamed Steve Harrington to me.

🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊🍊

Since the kids are hanging out at his place at least once a week, Steve starts buying more healthy snacks, so that they don't just stuff themselves on chips, peanuts and candy bars they bring with them all the time. He makes sure a large bowl in his living room is always filled with some fruits. Unfortunately, with things like oranges or grapefruits, turns out it results in sticky stains all over the carpet as the kids tend to rip into the skin like animals, squirting the juice everywhere (one time, Dustin even got some in Mike's eye, starting a screaming match that made Steve's ears ring).

So from now on, Steve just peels the fruits himself before passing them around. (He even keeps a small knife next to the bowl to peel the apples for El, simply because she doesn't like biting through the skin.)

Pretty soon, he starts doing the same thing for Robin when she's around, because she claims her nails are too fragile and she doesn't want to break one. Steve rolls his eyes and doesn't comment on the fact that her nails were just fine opening that soda can five minutes ago; he's rewarded with a grin as he peels a large grapefruit for her. And by proxy, for Nancy, because Robin hands one half over to her, which she accepts with a shy smile. It's something Robin does every time, Steve soon learns. Sometimes, he wonders what's going on between them, but decides not to pry. Robin will tell him when she's ready.

A week later, everyone's gathered in his living room again. The boys and Erica have their D&D game with Eddie while the rest just hang out, Nancy and Robin painting each other's nails and discussing colleges, Max and El bent over a stack of comic books and skateboarding magazines. Steve, as usual, is on fruit peeling duty, between listening to and occasionally joining various conversations around the room. At this point, he doesn't bother pretending like it annoys him. In truth, he likes keeping his hands busy. And this little ritual has become just another part of him taking care of his strange found family, even in small ways when there is no major apocalypse to deal with these days.

Or, almost everyone. He can't help but notice that Eddie's the only one who didn't ask Steve to pass him any fruits. He wonders, but there could be lots of reasons. Maybe Eddie didn't want to get his notes stained. Or he's allergic to oranges. Or he just doesn't like fruits. Come to think of it, Steve has hardly ever seen Eddie eat anything other than cup noodles or pizza.

But also, Eddie can be really strange around Steve. Sometimes, he's his usual, loud, obnoxious self, making flirty jokes and poking fun at Steve. Other times, he's almost cautious, keeping his distance, barely meeting Steve's eyes.

During a bathroom break in the middle of their game, Eddie approaches him with a teasing grin. "So what, that's a new item on the list of babysitter duties, Stevie? Peeling oranges for everyone?"

Robin grins at him from the other end of the couch. "Oh, not everyone. We're just special. Peeling fruits is Steve's new love language, apparently."

Her tone is teasing, and Steve rolls his eyes, but what she says isn't far from the truth.

And just like that, Eddie goes into distant mode. Nods, mumbles something about needing another soda and heads for the kitchen. And part of Steve wonders if maybe, Eddie doesn't know that this is something he could ask for.

He knows that he loves Eddie. He's still not sure what kind of love it is, it's certainly different from his love for Robin, or Nancy these days, or the kids. But he knows he does. Because of something the man told him himself once, actually, about what a sign of true love is; and Steve knows that if needed, he'd walk into the Upside Down and bite through a thousand more bats for any of the people in this room without a moment's hesitation. Any of them. But the gates are all closed, and grand gestures like that are no longer necessary, so he just makes sure everyone he loves is safe, and fed, and happy, occasional mother hen jokes be damned. And it doesn't sit right with him that Eddie isn't aware that includes him.

So he decides to fix it. Later that night, when everyone's gathering their stuff to head home, arguing loudly over who's going to get a lift from Nancy instead of taking their bikes, Steve asks Eddie to stay another while, have a few beers, watch a movie. And Eddie agrees, as easily as always, even if that strange, distant look is not yet completely gone from his eyes. As he puts on some horror flick, Steve tries not to dwell on the fact that he doesn't actually remember Eddie ever saying "no" to him.

Ten minutes or so into the movie (that looks terrible so far, but of course Eddie insists it's an absolute masterpiece), Steve reaches for the fruit bowl, grabs the final orange from it. Looks over at Eddie, who averts his eyes immediately towards the TV. Aiming for a casual tone, Steve holds it up to him.

"Hey, Eddie. You want one?"

Eddie's eyes are back on him, watching him with an unreadable expression for a moment. "Uh. Yeah, sure." Eddie reaches out, but Steve doesn't let him take the fruit, instead bringing it into his lap and quickly working on removing the skin. He doesn't know why his heart suddenly beats faster.

When he finally looks up, handing the now peeled fruit to Eddie, he's met with the most brilliant smile. Slowly, Eddie takes it, spins it around in his hands a few times, biting his lip, as if lost in thought. And then, he splits the orange in half and wordlessly holds one half of it out for Steve.

Suddenly, with that bizzarre silent exchange, everything clicks for Steve. Like puzzle pieces all coming together. There's the puzzle of Robin and Nancy he's pretty sure he's figured out now. But more importantly, the puzzle that's him and Eddie. His own uneven heartbeat and Eddie's sudden mood swings. His eyes always getting drawn to Eddie like a magnet, following him around the room. Eddie's smiles for him, always soft even when he's teasing. His 'Stevie', like warm rays of spring sunshine against Steve's skin.

Steve only waits long enough for both of them to finish eating their orange halves before taking a leap of faith, shuffling closer and reaching for Eddie's hand. Eddie stares at their joined hands with a look of disbelief, then chuckles quietly and looks up, his smile almost blinding up close.

Their first kiss tastes like oranges, their lips a little sticky, and so are probably their hands buried in each other's hair, but it's not like either of them cares.

(Days later, the first time they move on from couch makeouts to his bedroom, the first time Steve takes the shirt off of a slightly trembling Eddie, he can't help himself. "You know, if peeling fruits is a love language, you're totally my new favorite fruit." It's stupid and corny, but it makes them both laugh so hard neither of them is nervous anymore after that.)

[neonponders]

Billy had no idea what to wear to a ballet. He didn’t have a tuxedo. He’d grown out of the only suit he possessed. And the worst part of it, Robin being the only girl he could go to for such input, proved no help at all.

“I was going to ask you and Steve! But Steve’s Houdini-ing all over the place—it’s a wonder he even got my ticket to me in person.”

Indeed, Steve only got Billy his own ticket because Billy had taken to spending the night at Chez Harrington on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Which was extra weird with Max in tow, but that key was getting mileage since Billy had to take her home before midnight.

Now he and Robin faced reality: they had to ask an expert. The only person available to them was Robert Harrington.

[shipskicksandgiggles]

T1D Awareness Month Masterlist

for those who don't know me, hi, I'm Ellis, I have type one diabetes and an unhealthy relationship with characters with more trauma than they should reasonably have. I also write fanfiction. the result is this! I wrote for national diabetes awareness month (ndam), but haven't yet shared them with tumblr. this is a series, but I'm pretty sure you'd be fine reading any one of them on their too

Pins and Needles

Relationships: past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve Harrington's earliest memory is of a hospital when he was four years old. Everything that happened later was in part the result.

Warnings: Steve Harrington has Bad Parents, hospitals

Pumps and Possibility

Relationships: Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Max Mayfield

Summary: Thirteen is a big year for a lot of boys. It’s your first year of being a teenager, your voice starts to change, you start to notice girls.

It became a real possibility that Steve could get an insulin pump when he was thirteen.

Warnings: Steve Harrington has Bad Parents

No More Sugarcoating

Relationships: Eleven Hopper & Steve Harrington

Summary: Maybe it was the concussion talking, but Steve had a headache. There were four children in his car, which he hadn’t started his day expecting.

At this point, he decided to just go with it. Nothing could truly shock him anymore.

Except for maybe the girl with superpowers.

Warnings: Low Blood Sugars

What Family Can Be

Relationships: Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, developing Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary: The first person Steve willingly told was Dustin.

His worst low blood sugar happened around someone he never expected to need to tell.

Ever since 1983, Steve had seemed to collect a family.

Warnings: Low Blood Sugars, implied Steve Harrington has Bad Parents

[eaglesnick]

Double Whammy

According to Diabetes UK 4.3 million people in Britain have diabetes, 90% of these having the avoidable type 2 diabetes. Diabetes costs the NHS £10 billion a year, and in some hospitals over a quarter of beds are taken up by  people with diabetes. The number of people with diabetes has doubled in the last 15 years and is continuing to rise.

The great tragedy of type 2 diabetes is that it is largely avoidable. 

“Research shows that living with obesity is the single greatest risk factor, and accounts for 80-85% of someone's risk of developing the condition, and our previous data revealed that the number of people living with obesity in England has almost doubled in the last 20 years from 6.9 to 13 million."  (Diabetes UK: 05/04/21)

One of the major causes of obesity is the consumption of ultra-processed foods such as mass produced bread, pre-packaged meals, breakfast cereals, sausages and other reconstituted meat products, yoghurts with sweeteners or stabilizers, chicken nuggets, frozen meals, crisps, soft drinks, biscuits, etc.

We may think we can avoid ultra-processed foods but the evidence suggests otherwise. According to the Guardian (02/02/18):

“Half of all the food bought by families in the UK is now “ultra-processed”, made in a factory with industrial ingredients and additives invented by food technologists and bearing little resemblance to the fruit, vegetables, meat or fish used to cook a fresh meal at home."

As bad as ultra-processed foods are for adult health, think how much worse they must be for the heath of developing children, yet

“Almost a third of baby and toddler foods sold in the UK are ultra-processed, risking children’s long-term health and development."  (Guardian: 08/05/23)

This Tory government has known about the links between ultra-processed foods and the rise in diabetes for years.

“MPs have criticised the Department of Health and the NHS in England for being "too slow" to act in preventing and treating diabetes… Being overweight is the main risk factor for type 2 diabetes, and 90% of adults with type 2 diabetes are overweight or obese.” (BBC: 22/01/16)

Despite this knowledge, the government, rather than introducing policies to wean people off ultra-processed food, is actively promoting its consumption. As recently as February this year Sunak’s Tory government was recommending ultra-processed food as part of a healthy diet.

“An app launched by the UK government, supposed to encourage healthy eating, has been found to be promoting ultra-processed foods.” (www.schoolfoodmatters.org:01/02/23)

The Grocer magazine (25/05.21) asked this question:

“Why is government incapable of saying ‘avoid ultra-processed food’?”

The answer is provided in Great British Life (18/05/23) when it reported:

“The Soil Association said it was “deeply concerned” about the influence of the food and drink industry on UK health policy as the NHS Food Scanner app continued to recommend biscuits, cakes, crisps, chocolate puddings and fizzy pop as “good” options for a healthy diet.”

The sad truth is, this Tory government puts corporate profit before public health. Our health,  and especially that of our children's, is being put at serious risk so that the giant food companies can continue to reap massive profits.

“Millions of people in UK facing food poverty as supermarkets announce record profits.” (Sustain: 22/05/22)

But this isn’t just a UK problem.

“Top 100 Food and Beverage Companies for 2022: A Year of Succulent Profits. 2021 could be called the year of meat and soft drinks. All of the top companies in those two categories had blowout years, adding billions of dollars to their top lines and similarly handsome increases to their bottom lines.”  (Food Processing: 05.08.22)

The food-processing companies and the big British supermarkets are both powerful and influential when it comes to determining government food policies. They are motivated by one thing only: profit. If the largest profit to be made is by promoting and selling ultra-processed food then so be it. To the supporters of neo-liberal free market economics the only duty of corporate management is to maximise profits for their shareholders. Any concern for the health or social consequences of their actions is in the words of Milton Friedman ”pure and unadulterated socialism” and no Tory government wants that.

But where is the “double whammy” of the title? It is in the insane situation whereby the government is now offering a “cure” for obesity by making a drug, costing millions of pounds, available on the NHS.

“THE UK should be "front of the pack" in dishing out weight loss drugs to obese Brits, Steve Barclay said today.

The Health Secretary last night announced a £40million two-year pilot that will look at ways to make obesity medicine accessible to patients outside of hospitals.” (Sun: 07/06/23)

Rather than curing obesity at source, by reducing the amount of ultra-processed foods we are being sold, the government is giving taxpayers money to the big pharmaceutical companies to produce weight-reducing drugs. The message is clear, people are to be to encouraged to go on eating ultra-processed food, and then be supplied with a drug to reduce the excess weight gain that results. It’s a win-win situation. The food-processing companies and super markets  go on making massive profits, and the pharmaceutical companies go on making massive profits. The only losers are our children and the 28% of England’s population who are already grossly over-weight, but who cares about them? Clearly not Steve Barclay or Rishi Sunak.

[sam24]

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Eddie, who becomes so in tune with Steve it’s actually crazy. Steve lovingly dubbed it as his “Stevie-Senses,” which Eddie loves and robin hates. Robin calls him a glorified service dog.

Steve’s blood sugar is low? Eddie brings over a juice box or a blue airhead.

Steve’s blood sugar is skyrocketing? Eddie nudges him and asks is he needs a correction.

Eddie even has the app on his phone that is connected to Steve’s pod so he can see where Steve’s levels are at even when they’re apart.

Eddie keeps the packet that Steve made for him on his person at all times, even though he doesn’t need it anymore. He keeps the needles, strips, alcohol wipes, and the monitor in a little pouch.

When Eddie is performing, he makes sure that there are a shit ton of snacks for him, as well as water and a place for him to relax if he needs to.

Steve has never felt so loved and so seen before, which helps solidify Robin’s endearment and approval for the couple.

[themorningsunshine]

Muffins

Pie - eyed over you - Chapter 3 

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist                        Series Masterlist

Previous Part 

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder, lots of fluff (gotta give the fluff before the angst for it to hurt more, yup I am evil), Steve and Sam being a menace 

Word count - around 6k 

a/n - So, after two delays, hell a lot of editing, and straight up changing the whole structure of this chapter and then combining it with another (hence the length), it’s finally here. Thank you so much to all of you for putting up with me. Please let me know what you guys think about this. Your kind words keep me going. 

You placed the muffins in a tray for display before making a note in your diary to buy more chocolate chips when you go to the market on the weekend. 

Running a bakery all on your own is a difficult job but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world. Even though you were not a morning person, the prospect of coming here and baking made it getting up from the bed every morning a tad bit easier. 

As you heard knocks on the door, you frowned before looking up, there was still some time left before it was time to open up the bakery. 

But when your eyes landed on the figure standing outside the door, looking like a complete misfit in his dark clothes and sunglasses and surprisingly, a baseball cap covering his forehead, a pathetic attempt at being discreet, you can't help the way your lips turn upward and your heart flutters. 

He was here just yesterday and yet it felt like you were seeing him after too long. 

Get yourself together. 

It's just a crush, it'll go away. 

You wiped your palms on your apron before walking towards the door to open it. 

You gave him a teasing smile before saying, "You're at the wrong place. Baseball convention is another mile from here." 

He rolled his eyes before stepping inside the bakery, bending a little, the door a little too short for him. "Hello to you too, sweets." 

You chuckled before walking towards the counter as he took his usual seat. Everything felt like a routine. Engraved in your soul as if it had always been there. 

"Gracing this bakery with your presence two days in a row. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Maybe I just missed my sweets." He shrugged as if it was obvious. 

"Continue this and you are going to get diabetic." You remarked with a smirk. 

"Not the sweets I was talking about, but okay." 

The smirk immediately left your lips as you could practically feel your heart beat out of your chest. He didn't mean it. He's just teasing. 

But no matter what you think, you can't help the way the red color crept up to your neck at his words. 

Okay, this crush is getting out of hand. 

"So, how's work?" You say in an attempt to change the topic. 

He tenses at your words. You had asked him what he did, and he had replied that he was a mechanic. It was becoming more difficult for him to lie to you. 

But maybe, he won't have to much longer. 

He was pretty sure Walker was on his way to screw things up. 

That son of a - 

"Earth to James!!" Your voice moving and your palm waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts. 

"I asked how was work." You said with a frown. James always got weirdly uncomfortable when you asked about work. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it, but you were no one to ask. 

"Oh, it's been fine. You know, the usual." 

"Yeah, yeah. Steve is a dorky idiot and Sam is an annoying prick. I know." You said imitating the words he had said to you not a long time ago. 

Bucky chuckles. Telling you about Steve and Sam was easier. Maybe sharing something about him which wasn't a lie, made him feel less guilty. 

He knew this was wrong. 

He was creating a web of lies that you will find out one day.

But Bucky Barnes wasn't a good man and he would take whatever time he has got before the inevitable happened. 

Which wasn't going to be today. 

He wasn't going to let Walker ruin this.

He will just sit there, hiding half of his face with the baseball cap. It would be easy. It wasn't like Walker would expect to see him here anyways. 

He was just here to make sure that he didn't hurt you. 

The both of you striked a conversation just like usual and you immediately felt better. You knew it was going to be a great day. Had started off on the best possible note, atleast.

The clock striked eight before you knew it and you got up from your chair to flip the sign at the bakery. 

"Why don't you hire someone to help you?" James asks, sipping his coffee. 

"Why, you're looking for a job?" You teased him with raised eyebrows. "Job at the garage doesn't pay enough for your baseball conventions?" 

He rolled his eyes. "When are you gonna let this one go?" 

"I think… never." 

He chuckled before asking again, "But, seriously, sweets, why not get a helping hand?" 

" 'Cause I am selfish." When he narrowed his eyes, you continued. "I know this sounds weird, but I don't like it when anybody else cooks the food. It's just never good enough." 

"So, why not hire someone to deal with the customers?" 

"That's literally the best part of the job." You half exclaimed. "People telling you whether they liked the sweets or not is the best part, James. Almost as good as getting to eat all the leftovers." 

James chuckled before setting his coffee mug down. "There is no pleasing you." 

You shrugged before walking behind the counter to get everything ready for the morning rush you were sure was about to walk through the door any moment now. 

When a few people came in, some regular customers and some students hoping to get in some caffeine to start the day, you saw as James involuntarily tensed. 

Bucky watched the front door with focused eyes as minutes ticked by. He knew Walker will be here any minute now. 

And he was proven right as he saw John Walker opening the door of the bakery and walking in with a smug look on his face, shoving away whoever came in his path. 

Bucky wanted nothing more than to pull him out of here, away from you and this warm place but he couldn't do that. There would be consequences, which he normally wouldn't give a second thought to, but the real nuisance would bring questions. 

He watched as you greet him with the same grin on your face that you used for all your customers, saying in a soft voice, "Hey, what can I get you?" And Bucky can swear Walker doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you.

"Why not start by paying off?" Walker said with a tone harsh and loud enough that a few customers turned to see what was happening. 

You frowned your eyes in confusion, "I am sorry." You were still speaking in a calm, soft voice, trying your best to get whoever this man was to calm down. You didn't want a commotion so early in the day. 

"Walker." He said as if it was enough of an introduction before continuing, "And I think you have an idea of where I am coming from. You owe us." 

James watched as realization dawned on your face and you stood straighter, your smile turning into a forwn. "I don't owe anyone anything."

He leaned towards you, keeping his arms crossed on the counter, speaking with a smirk, "Don't try to act smart, baby doll. Pay up and no one gets hurt." 

He watches as you cringe at the nickname  and almost take a small step back, discomfort clear on your face. 

Bucky almost gets up from his chair, his first instinct to slit off Walker's throat with the knife he had tucked in his jacket. He would make it less messy too, but painful. 

Control, he isn't going to hurt her. 

"I am not going to pay you a single cent, Walker. So, why don't you take your ass out of my bakery and leave me alone?" As you speak, your hand inches towards the knife that you keep below the counter for situations like these. Even though you hoped you'd never have to use it, it was better to be prepared than sorry. 

John clenches his fist as his eyes bore into your skull, "Don't make this difficult. You don't know who you are trying to mess up with. The people I work with wouldn't blink an eye before dumping your body in a dumpster. Just pay every month and we leave you alone." 

"I have said it before and I'll say it again, I am not going to pay you to let me live." It's as if something switches inside you. The slight fear or discomfort that could be seen in your features is completely gone now. 

Bucky watches as Walker growls in impatience before reaching for his jacket pocket. 

Nope, not happening

"Listen to me, you little bitch - " 

Walker is cut off immediately when a larger figure stands between him and the counter. 

James shields you from him, obstructing his view. 

"Leave her alone." The sound is almost a growl. And if Walker hadn't been too preoccupied he would have noticed how familiar that sounded. 

"And who the hell are you?" He spat. 

Bucky looks down at him and watches as all the color is drained out of his face when he recognises him. 

"S - si "

"Leave her alone and if you show up around here ever again, it will be you in the dumpster, cut into more pieces than you can count." 

Fear is obvious on Walker's face, as he completely forgets the weapon he was reaching for, trying to get his senses to work, confusion evident on his face.

Before he can ask any questions, Bucky takes a step towards him, with sheer coldness in his eyes as if he could slit Walker's throat right now and wouldn't blink. 

You watch as the man - who had introduced himself as Walker- saunters out of the bakery with quick steps. 

You frowned your eyes at whatever had happened here. 

You weren't going to pay the mob any money, you knew that. But you also knew that you couldn't have overpowered that man, especially if he had a weapon hidden under there somewhere. 

"You didn't have to do that, James." You said softly, in an attempt to get his attention away from the door he was boring holes in. 

He turned back and you watched as his expression turned into the soft one you were so familiar with. 

You walked from behind the counter towards where he was standing before explaining, "He works for the mob. Trust me, you don't want to get involved with them." 

Bucky's breath hitches at that. How could he explain to you that he wasn't just involved with the mob?

"It's okay, sweets. They won't hurt me." That was some truth. They were never going to hurt him, and before Walker could utter a single word to anyone about the events of the day, he would be fired. Bucky would make sure of that. 

"I know." You sighed, looking down at the floor as if contemplating something. It was silent for a moment before you looked up, "Thank you, James. It does mean a lot to me." You said with a soft, grateful smile on your face and your hand reached out to his. 

"Anytime, sweets." 

A moment passed before anyone of you dared to move. Your hand was now brushing his arm in slight touches. 

You broke the silence, "Come on, have some muffins. They are on me." You said before turning back and walking towards the counter. 

Bucky had to stand there for a moment because his skin had suddenly started to feel cold and empty. Like it wasn't enough without your touch, before walking back towards the counter and standing right in front of where you were taking out some muffins on a plate. 

"So, Ms Feisty, something against the mob?" He said, trying desperately for his voice to sound joking. 

You shrugged while passing the muffins to him and turning to pour some coffee for yourself. "I am not going to pay them money just because everybody else does. Why the hell do I pay taxes?" 

"But the way you were standing, you don't just want to rebel, sweets. You hate them." He said, an emotion in his voice you couldn't really place. He prayed that that wasn't the case, that he had read the situation wrong and maybe you didn't really hate the mob. 

"Hate is a strong word, James. I - despise them." You reply before looking up at him to meet his eyes, but he looks away, almost as if looking at you right now would physically hurt him. 

"I mean, they aren't really that bad, right? It's not like I know a lot about them but I have heard they protect the city." He tries.

"Uh-huh. They are not good people. You remember that day when we met? When it was raining and I had lost my way, and you were there - "

"I remember the day we met, sweets." He interrupts. Every part of that day was engraved in his mind.

"Yeah, yeah right. So, that day I was coming back from a friend's house. She has a daughter, Ellie, about 5 years old." 

He hums, nodding his head, not sure where you were going with this. 

"Both of them were switching houses. Leaving their home, that they had built, to live in a one bedroom apartment in the not so respected area of the town. You know why?" 

He narrowed his eyes. 

"Because her dad was killed." You took a deep breath, trying to keep the rage from bubbling up to the surface. "A 5 year old lost her father, James. And why? Because of some stupid mob feud." 

"What was her dad's name?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. 

"Jake" 

Bucky's moments halted as images came back to his mind's forefront. He had killed that man himself. Shot three bullets straight into his chest. He had felt no remorse then. That man was a traitor. Had joined hands  with the enemy, knowing very well what the consequences could be. 

He had felt no remorse then because he hadn't given a moment of thought to the people he might be leaving behind. It made his work easier. Pretending that there were no consequences to whatever they did. 

But now he could see the consequences. In the form of rage in your eyes at the tale and the hurt he felt in his chest, thinking about the girl. He knew how that felt. Being alone, and helpless. 

"She didn't deserve that. None of them did. Nobody deserves to lose somebody they love, James. But it hits the worst when it's unforeseeable. When the people who did it are out there in the world, as if their hands aren't tainted with blood, living their life and you can do nothing about it."  You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. Thinking about your friend and Elliot always brought you to tears. You tried to help them as much as you could, but there was only so much you could do. 

Bucky looks into your eyes and sees tears in the corner of your eyes. He wants to hold your hand, to comfort you, to tell you that they are going to be fine. But how could he, when his were the hands that were tainted with blood, that had taken the life of that man without a second thought. 

So, he just sits there, listening to you talk about the lady and her kid, even though each of your words is like a sword stabbed through his chest. 

When he knows you are fine, he takes his leave, bidding you goodbye before walking out and calling Steve. 

"Steve, I need you to do something." 

"What's up, Buck? Everything okay?" Steve replied in a concerned voice. Even after everything, his concern for his best friend never faded. 

"I am sending you some details of a lady and her kid. Send me the contacts of the person who bought their house." 

"Give me half an hour. But who are these people?" 

"They are going to be our responsibility, Steve." 

He cuts the call and sends a quick text with all the details he might need. 

He can't help but turn back towards the bakery to have one last look. He has made up his mind. He was going to tell you the truth. 

he didn't care if it meant you would hate him. There were many people in the town who despised him, what's one more?

But when he turns back and his eyes land up on you, handing a cup of coffee to a middle aged lady, talking to her with a softness unique to you. 

As if you can feel his eyes on you, you turn towards the window and as your eyes meet, your smile grows wider. A smile that's only reserved for him, he realizes. 

And he would have hated himself for how quickly his resolve fades away. 

But Bucky Barnes was not a good man. 

And maybe many people in this world did hate him, but he would be damned if you were one of them. 

He wanted this. The weekly bakery visits, the warmth, the sheer simplicity of it all, even if it was all this was ever going to be. 

And it was about damn time he got what he wanted. 

Why should he apologize for the monster he has become when no one ever apologized for making him this way?

Maybe, one day you'll find out the truth and hate him more for lying to you, but it wasn't going to be anytime soon. He will make sure of that. 

So, he straightens his coat and walks away from the bakery, choosing to not pay any mind to the inevitable doom that could leave the both of you shattered. 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*

"James Buchanan Barnes" 

He turns back from what he is doing to find you, cross armed, shooting daggers at him. 

"How could you, James? It's like you're not even trying." 

He can't help the smile that finds its way to his lips at the way you look. Your christmas sweater that you had deemed "perfect" for the occasion and a scarf draped loosely on your neck, trying to look intimidating, just makes you look even cuter. 

You walk towards him and take the candy decoration from his hand, to place it exactly just an inch away from where he was going to, because it looked in your exact words, "more festive" 

Bucky just smiles at you as he watches you ramble more about Christmas decorations. 

When a week ago, he had heard you reminding Pietro that he had to come over to help you decorate, he had stepped in and offered his help. He was free that day anyways, he had told you. There was an international shipment that he had to sign off that day, but that could wait. 

When Pietro had shaken his hand and thanked him for 'saving him', he didn't understand, but now he did. You were extremely particular about how each and everything had to look for christmas and was not shy to tell the other person what a terrible job they were doing if it wasn't exactly the way you had wanted.

But if the cute pout on your face and the warmth that it caused in his chest was any indication, it was worth it. The cookies whose smell reached him even in the living room was just an added bonus. 

Right now, standing in the middle of your apartment, surrounded by incomplete decorations that signaled the arrival of a festival he wouldn't have cared the slightest about a year ago, being scolded by you for not hanging the canes correctly, he regretted nothing. 

3 hours and a lot of debates later, all of which you won, the house was finally decorated enough for the festival. 

"Here you go." You said, handing him a warm cup of coffee and placing a plate full of cookies on the table in front of him. It was your way of saying thank you. 

Bucky looks around your apartment. It's just above the bakery and much smaller than the mansion he lived in. But it felt different in a way he couldn't point out. 

A shelf filled to the brim with books standing in the corner, pictures adorning the walls, each telling a different story. Some soft music playing on the speaker, it was like a blanket of warmth stood over your house. A little messy, but beautiful nonetheless. 

His eyes then land on you, sitting across from him on the sofa, sipping your coffee with a warm, content look on your face, your scarf now lying on the table. 

As if you could feel his gaze, you turn back to look at him and your breath hitches in the throat at the way he is looking at you. 

It's as if the world could crumble around him and he wouldn't blink an eye. 

You can't get yourself to look away. So, you just raise your eyebrows, because you have suddenly forgotten how to breathe and if he didn't look away right now, you are not sure you will be able to survive longer. 

He just shrugs and turns towards his coffee, as if it was a natural occurrence. As if your whole world hadn't stopped spinning for a moment there. 

Bucky looks at you through the corner of his eyes and watches as red color creeps up to your neck and you try your hardest to not smile. 

He now recognises the feeling. 

Your apartment feels like home. 

And the next realization brings with itself questions and doubts he wasn't ready to answer. 

He wouldn't rather be anywhere else. 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩

He clenches his fist as he drags his feet towards the bakery. 

It was pretty late. He knew that. 

But he just had to be there. 

He liked his work more often than not. The impending guilt and the danger aside, the reason that had initially brought him to this world still stood. 

It made him feel something. The adrenaline of each task, the satisfaction of seeing everything that belonged to his enemies burning down till there was nothing but smoke.  

The mafia world had welcomed the darkness that he had inside of him and made him one of their own, for which he will be eternally grateful. 

But for some time now, it hasn't been enough. 

The darkness that had surrounded and consumed him for so many years now was suddenly not enough. 

Something inside him changed. 

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had thought twice before shooting that man today. The whispers inside him that asked him every time 'if there was any other way' had become louder now and even the noise of the bullets couldn't silence it. 

He knew what was happening. 

He was seeking the light.

And every single part of him knew that this could only end in disaster. In a fire that threatened to burn every single thing to the last piece. 

But that didn't stop him from taking the next step. Or the one after that. 

He was still walking to the one place that could silence away his thoughts and make it all go away. Like a moth attracted to a flame. 

Maybe this was selfish of him. Maybe he was tainting you with his darkness. 

He will think about that some other day. 

When the bakery comes into view, he realizes just how late it is. 

You would be about to close now. 

Maybe he could catch a glimpse before you retired for the night. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. But it had to do. 

As he reaches the bakery, he watches as the door slowly opens and a young boy steps out. 

He frowns before walking ahead, and his eyes almost widen with who he sees. 

"Peter, what are you doing here?" 

Peter looks up from the book he is currently holding and his eyes widen with fear at the figure who stands before him. 

"S - sir, I - I was just - " 

A voice from inside the bakery calls out to him. A voice Bucky recognizes all too well. 

"Peter, you forgot this." 

You step out of the bakery with a textbook in your hands as you hand it over to Peter. 

Peter opens his mouth to speak but then closes it. Too afraid about what was going to happen. 

You turn around and when your eyes land on James, your lips turn into a grin before you know it. 

"James, hi"

Peter's eyebrows shoot up as he looks between the both of you. You have a glint in your eyes as if you couldn't be happier by anything else and the man he had feared with everything he had for the last couple of years, had a softness to his features that made Peter wonder if he was somehow swallowed into an alternate dimension. 

"Hey, sweets." Bucky says almost on instinct, before turning towards the boy who is still looking at the both of them as if he just saw a dolphin flying in the air. 

You probably notice it too, because you then point towards Peter before saying, "James, this is Peter, and Peter, this is James Barnes." 

"James?" Peter says almost on instinct, confusion evident in his voice. 

"Wait, you know him?" You ask, looking between the both of them now. 

Peter looks at Bucky and almost crumbles with fear by the warning glare he is shooting towards him. But there is something else there too. Something, he can swear he has never seen in the mob boss' eyes. 

There is fear in them. A tiny flicker of it. He fears the answer he is going to tell you. Whatever it was, it was too important for him. 

"No, no. I don't think we have met before." 

"Oh, okay." You say, confused as to what had just happened here. "All the best for the test and tell MJ I said hi," You give him an easy exit from a situation he was clearly uncomfortable in. 

You watch as a small blush spreads across his cheeks before he bids you goodbye and glancing at James once, takes his leave. 

"He is a nice kid." You break the silence after Peter walks away, out of earshot. "Pretty smart. I was helping him with his test tomorrow." 

Bucky looks back at you and shrugs in response. "Good for him." 

"By the way, it's closing time, James." You say with a teasing voice and he is relieved that you don't ask any further questions. 

"Come on, sweets. You could make an exception for your favorite customer." 

You roll your eyes before replying. "What about this? You help me clean up, and I get you something special I made today." 

"Help you clean up?" 

"Aww. The prince doesn't like to get his hands all dirty?" You smirk. 

"This special treat should better be worth it, sweets." He huffs before walking inside the bakery. 

You walk in behind him while giggling. 

__

"And that's it." 

You look at him with a smile and silently clap your hands together with an impressed look. 

If any of his men would see him right now, wearing an apron with a bunny on it, hands covered in flour, working in a bakery with soft music playing in the background, their eyes would pop out of their heads. But he couldn't care less. 

"Great job for a first timer, Barnes. You have earned yourself a serving of something special." 

Bucky smirked before replying, "Something special, you say?" He leans in and sends a wink your way. 

You roll your eyes before turning towards the kitchen, hoping that it wasn't evident how flustered you were.

You take out something from a box and place it on a plate in front of him. 

Bucky looked at it closely with a frown. It was clearly made of chocolate and was shaped like a dome. He could swear he had never seen it in your bakery before. 

"Come on, give it a try. If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it ages ago." 

He picks up one and after a moment of close inspection, takes a bite. 

As the taste of chocolate invades his senses, he moans and puts the whole into his mouth. 

You watch as his head falls back in delight. 

Once he is done, which is faster than he would have wanted, he says, "Sweets, that was the best damn thing I have ever had." 

You chuckle, "You say that every single time, James."

"And I mean it every single time." 

You just smile at him before putting another on the plate. 

As he devours that one quickly too, he inquires, "What is it called?" 

You smirk before replying, "James." 

"Yeah?" 

"James. That's what it is called." 

His eyes widen and he takes a moment to reply, "You named a sweet after me?"

"Well, technically, you were the inspiration for this." 

He frowns. "How so?" 

"Well, It's full of chocolate and exceptionally sweet. It's exterior is hard but its insides are so soft, they practically melt in your mouth." 

Bucky looks at you, baffled and you look away, unable to meet his eyes. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is suddenly shushed by you. 

"That's my favorite song." You whisper, as if not wanting to obstruct the soft melody. 

Bucky listens to the sound coming from your phone.

Wise men say

"Only fools rush in"

But I can't help

Falling in love with you

He looks back at you and at the way you have a soft smile on your face, your features highlighted by the soft glow of the kitchen light. 

You look at him and with a teasing smile puts your hand forward, indicating to him to take it. 

He looks between your outstretched hand and your face with a frown.

"Dance with me." Your voice is so soft, he just can't get himself to say no. But, who is kidding? He will set the whole world on fire and watch it burn with a smile on his face if you asked him to. 

He slowly places his hand in yours as the music continues. 

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help

Falling in love with you

The both of you stand in the middle of the kitchen, the moonlight sweeping its way through the windows. 

Everything is brightened in a warm glow but you know nothing will ever shine brighter than the way his ocean blue eyes do right now. 

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

One of his arms finds its way around your waist while the other holds yours. 

You place your free hand on his shoulder and he gently pulls you closer. 

The both of you stay like that for the rest of the song, swaying slowly to the music. 

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

You don't know who  leans first but before you know it, the distance between the both of you starts decreasing. 

You hold your breath and your gaze move from his eyes to his lips. 

You would be lying if you said you had never thought of this before, of how his lips would feel against yours, how he would taste like. 

This man had occupied your thoughts since the day you had met all those months ago and you were pretty sure he had no idea of the effect he had on you. 

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

Just as the song is about to end and there's nothing but an inch of distance between the both of you, the door to the bakery was suddenly pushed open with a force and the sound of the bells invaded the comfortable silence that had covered the room in a blanket. 

The both of you took a sudden step away, and you needed a moment to calm your heart which felt like it was about to beat its way out of your chest, before looking up to see who it. was. 

You squinted as two men, one blonde and the other dark haired, stood at the door, looking comically too big, having no idea of what transcribed in the bakery before they had not-so-smoothly barged in. 

The blonde one speaks, breaking the silence, "I knew we'd find you here." 

You watch as he steps towards James, who looks at him with sheer annoyance. "What the hell are you doing here, punk?" 

The other man looks at you and forms a smirk before stepping towards you. "So, this is where you always sneak off to? I guess I understand why." 

James huffs in annoyance and with a sten face stops him, "Shut up, Wilson." 

You look between the men who looked like they were in a staring contest when realization hit you. "Steve and Sam?" 

All the men look at you at the same time and you feel like a deer caught in headlights before you stand up straighter reminding yourself that no matter how intimidating the situation was, this was your bakery. 

"And you must be y/n l/n. It's great to finally meet you, Ms l/n" Steve says, smiling. 

"Please, just call me y/n." 

"Or we could call you beautiful." Sam replies before stepping forwards, stretching his hand to take yours for a shake. 

You let out a chuckle before shaking his hand. "Y/n is fine." 

"What are the both of you doing here?" Bucky speaks up, shooting daggers at Sam, his fists clenched. 

"There's an emergency. We need to go." Steve replies, a serious expression adorning his face. 

Sam interjects them "What's the hurry? I have heard so much about this bakery. We could eat something before leaving." 

Bucky spats at him, "This bakery has closed, Wilson. Time's up. Get your butt moving." 

Sam pouts and you chuckle at the antics of these grown men, "Why don't you come here some other day, Sam, I have something that I think you'll like." 

Sam looks at you, a childlike smile replacing his pout, "I like her already." 

Bucky steps forward towards Sam, pulling him away. "Don't listen to him, sweets." 

Steve and Sam turn their head towards him so fast. you are sure they will get a sprain later. Sam raises his brows with a smirk on his face, while Steve looks at him with a smile on his. 

James then quickly bids you goodbye before pulling the both of them outside the bakery. 

Once they reach the car Steve and Sam had driven in, they both look at him with amused grins. 

"Back off, the both of you. What's the emergency?" 

Steve's expression turns serious as he replies, "Our shipment from Iran has been stopped at Morocco and they are refusing to comply." 

Bucky narrows his eyes at the information. Who would dare to stop their shipment and risk getting on his bad books? "Who is it, Steve?"

"It's Alexander Pierce." 

Bucky lets out a breath before looking in the direction of the bakery once more  and then turning towards Steve and Sam. 

"Get in the car. We need to leave right now. This is going to be a long assignment."

Next part

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[cripplecharacters]

Hello! First I want to say how much I appreciate this blog, and how cool it is that so many different people from the disability community have come together to share your perspectives on this blog!

Onto my question!

There are numerous characters existing in books, comics, tv shows and movies that have disabilities. Many of them are well known and beloved characters. But 99.9% of the time their disabilities are used as plot devices, traumatic backstory’s, and forgotten unless their disability is useful to add drama or make a slapstick joke. As a fan fiction writer who sees myself in many of these characters, I want to fix this poor and ableist representation when I write these characters. My question is, how can I do that? I want to maintain what makes these characters who they are, including their disabilities, while still keeping them true their development. I want to add that I have researched all of these disabilities in depth, and the information I’m seeking now is how to include them with proper representation.

For example Steve Rogers’ (Captain America) entire origin story is rooted in the erasure of his disabilities. He goes from being disabled and mocked and bullied because of that, to a super hero, who is strong, fast, has enhanced hearing and sight. He’s ‘magically’ cured. What we love about his character is that his newly acquired super powers don’t change his morals and beliefs. But his disabilities have still been erased.

For this character (and other characters who magically go from disabled to abled) would you recommend finding a halfway point? For example, Steve Rogers still gets tall and buff and gains super strength and stamina, but he still some of his disabilities like scoliosis, hard of hearing, or diabetes? Or keeping him how he looks before his transformation, but still having him have his super powers?

Another example (marvel again, because marvel uses disability and subsequent disability erasure as one of its main plot devices) is Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier. He is a forequarter amputee who is given a science fiction prosthetic. This prosthetic required invasive surgery and implants (all of which was non consensual). His prosthetic is very strong, stronger than his right arm (even with super soldier serum that already makes him stronger than other humans). This technology doesn’t exist in real life, and this prosthetic (and prosthetics in other media that has amputee characters) is treated like a fix all: like a new arm but even better so then the character who went through dramatic trauma for the plot doesn’t have to be disabled anymore. Here is my conundrum: the winter soldier has a prosthetic left arm that he can fight with is an important part of his character. To not write him as an amputee erases his disability completely, but to write him without his high tech prosthetic also takes away from other important parts of his character. So my question is, when writing this character (and other amputee characters with similar situations) is it best to find a halfway point? Let this character have his advanced super strong and dexterous prosthetic, but have him actually treat it like a prosthetic (for example, he takes it off, doesn’t sleep with it, and knows how to do tasks without it). Or would it be better to make the prosthetic more realistic? As strong as his other arm, he can’t use it like a battering ram, etc. Or would it be more appropriate to find different ways for characters to do what they do without advanced prosthetics?

I would love to hear specific suggestions for these characters but it would be great too if you had some broad suggestions for repairing disability erasure within any existing work of fiction. Thank you so much for all of the hard work you all put into cripplecharacters!!

Hello,

My time has come.

So Steve Rogers is a product of his time. Back when he was created, living with the disabilities he had was far harder. But nowadays we have medications and treatments his creators would've never thought possible- I mean, this was the time when smoking was the treatment for asthma- so consider incorporating those. For some of them, like what's probably rheumatic heart disease from the scarlet fever, a halfway point would probably be best (more on that in a second.) For other things, modern treatments will do just fine. If Howard Stark can create a flying car, he can create iron supplements and blood sugar monitors. Let's see what he has and how he can be accomodated;

Asthma- the serum can strengthen his lungs and lessen the severity, or you can skip that step and instead look at modern treatments for asthma, which include breathing exercises, slowly increasing exercise to improve the body's tolerance, and a lot of medications. Without knowing the type of asthma he has it's hard to know what his asthma attack plan would be, but considering he has no mentioned allergies, it's probably non-allergic persistent. This can be treated with a combination of long-term control medications, which are taken on a set schedule to help prevent asthma attacks, rescue medications that are used as-needed for asthma attacks, and possibly biologics, which are injected medications for people with severe asthma. These medications are a bit similar to immune suppressants, suppressing the body and immune responses that cause asthma attacks. He can also do breathing exercises to strengthen the lungs and slowly build up exercise tolerance. The bigger lungs due to his bigger body should also help.

Diabetes- there's a massive range of insulin pumps, blood sugar monitors, sugar tablets, and whatever else have you that makes life for diabetics. He'd also benefit from a diet plan, which will take in his level of diabetes, what his pancreas can handle, and potential problem areas to create a diet that works for him and helps him avoid hypoglycaemia and hyperglycaemia.

Astigmatism- contacts, or just some form of glasses or goggles. That's assuming his vision is bad enough to need correction at all, because some people with astigmatism can get by without. He's gotten this far without any form of corrective lense and he's not a long-range fighter, so he might not even need them. Still, they would be useful for him to have in his day-to-day life.

Rheumatic fever- this is one of the biggest problems. Rheumatic fever and scarlet fever mess the body up bad, and I'm willing to bet these are what cause his cardiac arrhythmias (irregular heartbeat.) The serum could strengthen his heart. He can also use a vast range of hypotensives (for the high blood pressure,) any number of heart medications, maybe anticoagulants to reduce risk of blood clots, a pacemaker or other implants, maybe surgery to replace damaged heart valves, and regular check-ups on the health of his heart. If all else fails, a heart transplant might be on the table.

Bone deformity- the treatment is going to depend on which bones, the severity of the deformity, and the cause. They didn't specify, so you can find what you think you'd best be able to work with and go from there. Treatments can include surgery, braces, physical therapy, and some medications that can treat the underlying cause.

Scoliosis- probably can just be left alone, maybe a little physical therapy to help him reduce pain. If you've decided he has a severe case, he can get surgery to straighten his spine. (Personally, I would love to see a character with scoliosis who has rib cage deformity.)

Nervous trouble- probably an anxiety disorder, can be treated through a combination of therapy and medication

These writers didn't live in a time where a soldier could have these disabilities, but now we do. There are treatments available for him that can help him, things the writers never could have imagined back in the thirties. He can still be a super soldier with his disabilities.

As for Bucky, take my opinion with a grain of salt because I am not an amputee. But you're right, him losing his arm and Hydra forcing a replacement on him is a huge part of his story and would be incredibly hard to change. The easiest way about it would probably be to keep it the same, he loses his arm and Hydra gives him a new one, but he gets rid of the arm once he's free.

The arm has failsafes in place to protect his handlers and he has no idea what kind of risks it holds, like if it has a tracking device that could lead them right to him. It's a liability and could put him in danger. He also didn't want the arm in the first place and, based on the scratch-mark scars where the metal meets his shoulder, he has tried to remove it before. Plus, if something goes wrong, he can't fix it. That arm is centuries ahead of modern technology, created by Hydra top scientists, it's a titanium alloy, he has no idea how it works or anything about how it was made, the tools required to fix it are probably hundreds, thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars (or tools that only exist because one Hydra guy created them, meaning Bucky can't get them and probably can't recreate them-) look, he has a high school education from a century ago. There's no way he's going to be able to fix or even maintain such an advanced piece of technology. Even if he did somehow know how to do it, he doesn't have the funds to do it. Sooner or later, the arm is going to be a problem. So he would probably get rid of it. Tony Stark would jump at the chance to help him remove it, he would love to get to stick it to Hydra.

Getting rid of the arm can also be a freedom thing. It marks him as the Winter Soldier, it's a symbol of Hydra's control of him. By getting rid of it, he's one step closer to being free of their hold on him. He doesn't need the arm. The movies demonstrated that he's perfectly capable of getting by without it, showing him easily running his little goat farm in Wakanda without his bionic arm or even a realistic prosthetic, just using his remaining arm. (Additionally, did you see the look on his face when they gave him a new one? The exhaustion in his voice as he asked where the coming fight was? He did not want that new arm, he wanted to keep happily existing peacefully on his farm and having the arm meant he couldn't do that. He wouldn't want a new bionic.)

For Bucky, I would recommend letting him ditch the bionic as part of his quest for freedom.

In general, my main recommendation would be accessibility and medicine rather than magic cures. If you have any other specific examples because Marvel very, very rarely did disability representation right, feel free to ask if you need help improving them. It's my passion. You have no idea how excited I was seeing this in the ask box.

Mod Aaron

Hi!

Going from deaf or hard of hearing to having super hearing is a bit tricky. I'd recommend this way of doing both:

The ranges that are affected by his specific hearing loss stay hard to hear (with only very mild improvement if any).

The ranges that aren't affected get amplified, possibly even to a debilitating degree.

For many deaf/hoh people, hearing things, especially if the sound is louder than we expect, is very overwhelming. The solution above somewhat mimics the experience of wearing hearing aids, but since they are his powers they can't be removed the same way. (It would be very interesting to explore that through the lens of paralleling forced oralism...)

Mod Rock

[xd3str0yax]

Type one diabetic Steve holds a special place in my heart and I’d love to write it but alas, my knowledge of diabetes is limited to the internet, my physiology class, and what i remember from a T1D friend i had as a kid.

Im gonna take a crack at it but if there are any diabetics that would like to consult please DM me!

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Anonymous request: You're also an Avenger and you love the Christmas time but everyone else doesn't. So you kinda get sad every year as you're the only one enjoying the time. One day you decide to put on some Christmas tunes and start making cookies when Bucky starts watching you from the other room, smiling to himself as he sees you all being happy and cute. He decides to change his mind and joins you, helping you make cookies, even though he's clumsy but you enjoy his presence (as you both have feelings for each other). In the end you're covered in dough and stuff and he grabs you and kisses you, admitting both your feelings, while the rest of the team watches you both happy from afar.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,195 words

Warnings: tooth rotting sweetness, beware of diabetes!

A/N: Shoutout to @samodivaa for aiding and abetting this endeavor!

To you, they were family. And Christmas was supposed to be a time for family. At least that is what you'd been raised to believe, even though you weren't a Christian or religious. To you Christmas was a time for togetherness, for helping others, showing kindness and love and having hope. Shortly before joining the team, you had lost your family and the Avengers had become a surrogate family of sorts. You loved them dearly and wanted them to experience the same joy you did at this time of year.

Tony had graciously let you order a magnificent tree, which you'd basically decorated on your own, with the assistance of your inhuman powers. The others had watched you or walked by showing various degrees of enthusiasm for your activities, ranging from praise to outright disregard for your endeavors. Despite your gratitude, your friends’ lack of interest did dampen your spirit a little.

The closer it got to Christmas Day, your resolve to spread some Christmas cheer grew stronger. It helped that you’d hung a blown up photograph of your own family’s last Christmas picture opposite your bed.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll get them to come around. I won’t let the love die. I promise,” you whispered in front of the image before starting your day.

You had come up with a plan to try and win your friends over to the festivities. No one could ever say no to your sister’s secret cookie recipe. She had had people practically drooling in anticipation of stuffing their faces with her Christmas concoctions. So after a morning of grueling training with Steve, you took a shower and headed to the store to purchase the correct ingredients. Upon your return, you found Sam, Steve, Bucky and Nat congregated in the living room adjoining the kitchen. They were pouring over some plans over their next mission.

“Hey Nexus! What you got there?” Sam called as you entered the room.

You rolled your eyes at his use of your superhero name. You hated it, but the media had used it far too often and you were stuck with it.

“None of your business, Falcon!” you snarked back at him.

You made a pit stop at the table they were sitting at, Nat and Bucky trying to hide their sniggering faces behind their hands. Steve’s face remained relatively passive, giving you a kind smile for which you were grateful.

“Come on, Sugar. You bring me something sweet?” Sam certainly knew how to turn on the charm, especially in front of Bucky. He knew that the Winter Soldier was harboring a little crush on you and he played up in front of him to see if he could provoke Bucky into acting on his feelings. So far he hadn’t succeeded, but he could definitely hope for a Christmas miracle.

“Here.” You pulled out a bag of his favorite treats which you’d bought back for him from the store.

“So anyone interested in helping me bake some festive cookies?” you asked, shaking a bag of chocolate chips in front of their faces.

“Sorry, Sugar. I have to go talk to my sister. She wants me to buy some new fangled toys for the boys.” He pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek and took his leave.

Nat stood up with Steve. “We can’t stay. We have to show our faces in front of some high powered windbags,” she wrinkled her nose before giving you a hug. “Save some for me though!”

“Me too,” Steve dropped a quick kiss on your forehead before following Nat out of the door. He was in on Sam’s plan to light a fire under Bucky’s ass.

“Buck?” you asked dubiously. 

“Not sure that’s my thing, Doll.”

“Your loss,” you replied in a slightly sing-song tone of voice and shuffled over to the kitchen with your bag of goodies, letting Bucky go back to brooding over the book he had pulled out of his jacket pocket.

Sauntering around the kitchen, you laid out the ingredients. You grinned as a happy thought entered your brain and you pulled out your phone letting FRIDAY connect to your bluetooth. Bucky looked up as a tune started to play, it didn’t surprise him in the least that you had your very own Christmas playlist. He couldn’t help but be distracted from his novel as you swayed around the kitchen measuring out flour and butter. But it wasn’t your dance moves that eventually got Bucky’s attention, it was the sound of your voice.

The singing voice you’d been born with was silky smooth, no one would have guessed that you were in possession of such a sweet instrument. Ever since you’d come into your powers, you had the ability to project your voice much further, sing louder with a lot more ease. But you never quite got the confidence to use it publicly. Bucky, however, knew better. He followed your schedule closely enough to know when you’d be in the shower, and he would excuse himself to put his ear to the vent to listen to you belt out your favorite tunes. And it was pure luck that today he would be getting a private concert. He sat, chin resting on his vibranium palm, lost in a fantasy of dancing with you.

This reverie was broken by your sudden gasp and a clatter of a bowl falling to the floor. Bucky was out of his seat in a flash, by your side, helping you clear up your mess.

“Thanks, Bucky!”

“No problem,” he grinned shyly. He always felt a little nervous when he was in such close proximity to you. He wondered if you could hear his heart pounding. “Looks like you need a little help.”

Had you just heard correctly? Was Sergeant Bucky Barnes offering to help you bake Christmas goodies?

“Really?” you asked, hopefully.

There was no way Bucky could say no to those shining eyes, the sincerity behind them when you looked at him. He wanted to be close to you, but at the same time he wanted to run away in shame. Why would someone as pure as you be interested in someone like him? At least, that’s what he always told himself when you smiled in his direction. The two of you were friends, there was no doubt about that, but you were friends with everyone. Bucky wanted more. He wanted all of you.

“Well, I can’t have you accidentally hurting yourself making baked goods.” A faint blush stained his cheeks as he spoke.

Not that you noticed, attributing his color to the rising temperature from the oven.

“Can’t have that at all!” you giggled. “Here, want to measure out the flour?”

You move over, giving him space to do his own thing and pick up the eggs for your next recipe. Your concentration in avoiding dropping shell pieces into the mix was broken by the sound of Bucky’s voice singing quietly to Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. It took a lot of effort to bite back the smile the vision brought to your face. No one would believe the sight; the big bad Winter Soldier singing Holiday singles while baking festive treats. You never understood why people were frightened of him, why people would cross the street to avoid him. It made you angry when people shot fearful looks at him, you gritted your teeth when his reputation was slated in the media. Why couldn’t they see the soft hearted man you had come to love? You had given up trying to hide your grin as you imagined him in an apron with the words “kiss the chef” printed in bold red letters across it.

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice interrupted your fantasy, he was sporting a slightly concerned look. “You okay? You’ve gone really red.”

“Yeah, fine,” you squeaked. “I should probably stop drinking the wine.”

“Doll, you haven’t even opened the wine.” Bucky frowned at the empty glasses and corked bottle on the counter.

You tittered nervously, “yeah, right, umm, it’s just a bit hot.” You fanned your face, trying to disperse the deepening crimson color that was starting to look the same as the wine bottle before you.

Bucky shuffled closer to you. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, really, Bucky. Why don’t we start mixing this together?”

You handed Bucky the softened butter and were about to instruct him to beat it together with the sugar, but before you had the chance, Bucky had dropped the entire block into the bowl of flour he had just finished measuring out. A tiny yelp left your lips, which turned into a smothered giggle as Bucky’s flour coated face emerged through the mist created by the crater in the bowl. Without hesitation, you grabbed a clean towel and started dusting his maroon Henley.

Bucky was laughing along with you as you dusted away the flour. Eventually you'd cleared up most of the flour, but he had missed a spot. You mustered up your courage to reach up and brush your fingers over his nose.

“Did you get it all?” he asked. 

He was standing impossibly close to you. And you wondered if you had imagined the way his eyes flicked down to your lips for a fraction of a second.

“I think so,” you smiled bashfully. “But maybe you should let me finish up on this.”

“Do you want me to do anything else?” Bucky felt a sudden pang of discomfort. What if you didn't want him around at all.

“Yes! I suck at opening those bottles.” You pointed at the wine. “Do you mind pouring a couple of glasses for us?”

“No problem!” Bucky completed his task efficiently and with enthusiasm. 

He waited patiently for you, watching you mix the batter with expertise. You rolled out the dough and held out a couple of cookie cutting molds. 

“Which one? Snowflake or Christmas tree?” 

Bucky grabbed the snowflake from your open hand and went to work on the dough. You couldn't help but notice how cute he looked as he tried to fit as many cookies on one roll without having to re-roll. It was adorable how his tongue stuck out a little as he concentrated on the task before him. You let him arrange his concoctions on the baking tray.

“What now?”

As if on cue, the oven binged, indicating that the cupcakes you'd put in earlier were done. 

“Now, we swap this tray for that one!” you pointed at the oven.

“No problem!” Bucky opened the oven and shoved his left hand inside to grab the baking tray.

“Bucky!” you shrieked. “You don't have any oven gloves!”

Bucky chuckled.

“Doesn't it burn?” you demanded, a little distressed by his nonchalance. 

“Doll, calm down.” He put the tray of cupcakes on the counter and showed you his metal palm. “It's fine, metal, remember?”

When your heart finally stopped pounding from panic, you covered your face in embarrassment. Bucky took your fingers and gently pried them off your face, smiling down at you, his eyes filled with more mirth than you were used to.

“So want to frost the cakes?” You grabbed the closest cone of frosting, trying to hide behind it.

“Sure.”

Bucky leaned into your side, making you squeeze the frosting filled cone with unease and painting your face with a green glaze. Bucky was having the time of his life, the thought that he was making you uncomfortable was giving him a much needed confidence boost to do what he wanted to.

“Errr, Doll, you have a little.” He motioned at his mouth.

“Oh,” you wiped a small spot off your cheek, not quite getting all of it. “Did I get it?”

Bucky sucked his lips in for a moment, contemplating his next move. “May I?”

You nodded. He placed his hand on your jaw, his thumb next to the edge of your mouth. “There's just a little…”

Bucky leaned in slowly, his eyes focused on yours for a moment looking for signs of discomfort from your part.

To you, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Gently, Bucky covered your sugar coated lips with his and licked it off. His tenderness took your breath away.

As he finally drew back, he stopped, his nose brushing yours. His eyes searched yours for a reaction.

“Is it gone?”

“Want me to do it again, to make sure?”

“I'd like that.”

This time you kissed him back, letting his tongue tango with yours. Bucky's warm hands brushed your arms, coming to rest on your waist while yours found purchase on his sturdy chest. When the kiss ended, you felt flustered but the corners of your mouth wouldn't stop turning up. 

Bucky picked up another colored cone. “So this can't be too hard, right?”

You laughed, showing him how you liked to decorate your cakes. Even though you'd not spoken the words out loud, you and Bucky had a mutual understanding about how you felt for each other.

And unbeknownst to you and Bucky, your friends watched the blossoming romance unfold with knowing smiles and a mild frown from Steve who forked up $50 to Sam for his accurate predictions.

[neonponders]

Caramel Heart - Harringrove x ballet!au - ch. 31!

“MOM!”

Billy’s eyes opened where he lay on a foam roller in the home studio. Annette sighed from where she ripped off ice packs from her calves and hip. “What’s that about?”

“He has a pimple,” she informed, earning a barked laugh—

Steve burst into the studio without a shirt. “Mom! What the heck is this?”

Billy craned his head to see upside-down, but wound up rolling onto his side to better see the red speckles all over Steve’s chest. Annette hobbled a little to accommodate for her overworked hip, but did not take long to know his problem: “You need to take a break from shaving.”

“Huh? I can’t not shave. I have cleavage the whole show!”

“Some chest hair will do you good,” Billy crooned, eyes dragging over the promising trail of hair next to Steve’s cgm on his lower belly.

Annette snorted delicately but focused, “Your costume will cover the stubble. And then we can get you waxed.”

Steve’s face froze as he internally recoiled.

[urhoneycombwitch]

thinking some thoughts about Dad!Steve

he wants kids so bad and his baby fever gets crazy the older he gets, especially as his Kids™ start to grow up and graduate and live their own lives so he's basically a 25 year old empty nester vibrating in his skin when he sees a baby in the grocery store or a little kid getting ice cream in their little baseball gear

he reads baby books and the like "What to do when you're expecting" pregnancy advise books, even before having the serious conversation with his partner that he'd like to start trying. I think it settles in pretty quick for him that even though he supplies half of the DNA, he doesn't actually do any work during the 9+ months of pregnancy and he really buckles down to help as much as he can. You ever watch Father of the Bride 2 when Steve Martin takes care of his girls and has the house the perfect temperature even though he's freezing and runs around all over town at different shops for takeout cravings? Yeah, that's Steve. Reader can't eat certain foods due to them making her nauseous/for health reasons like gestational diabetes? Steve isn't eating them either. Like he's fully committed to suffering alongside his partner and doing everything he can for them because he got them pregnant and that's his love, why wouldn't he??

And oooh, he does not stand for anyone putting down his partner and/or the baby? He lets his parents into that part of his life as a second chance, but the moment his mom or dad start to become monster in laws- nope! He packs everyone up in the car and cuts his parents out because no way are you gonna fuck up being a grandparent/in-law like you fucked up being a parent. Like he absolutely takes no shit when it comes to the people he loves.

He's just so Househusband/Dad like that's his destined role and he's so excited to fill it. Some people have dreams about riches and big houses, but he'd trade all that in a heartbeat for a family of his own - a house full of giggles and stains instead of pricey things just for decoration.

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHH.