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zenaidamacrouras1 · 1 year

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Writing Modern Steve Roger's Health Issues: A compendium

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

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

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

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

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

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

Asthma

Scoliosis

Fallen arches

Partial deafness

Scarlet Fever, Rheumatic Fever

Heart arrhythmia

High blood pressure

Palpitation or pounding in heart

Easy fatigability

Stomach ulcers

Pernicious anemia

Nervous trouble of any sort

Sinusitis

Chronic or frequent colds

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s talk about scoliosis ~~

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

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

Wait, so how tall is modern small Steve Rogers?

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

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

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

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

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

What about fallen arches?

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

Should I write modern non-serum Steve as deaf?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nervous trouble of any sort

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

Sinusitis and Frequent colds

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

Other stuff

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

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

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

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

IN CONCLUSION:

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

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

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

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

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sayahs-corner · 6 months

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Stony Regency Era PodBid - iam93percentstardust

The Prompt: An Austen setting where Tony is chaperoning a young Alpha and a hopeful young omega. The problem is that the young Alpha only has eyes for Tony.

If you enjoy historical romance, omegaverse, and May-December romance then this is the auction for you!

only $5 minimum to join!

That's about the same price as a cup of coffee, and you'll get a wonderful story from the talented @iam93percentstardust . Seriously, go check out their work. It's amazing. Allow yourself to feel the satisfaction of money well spent as your donation goes directly to charity! It feels good to give back, and even better when you get a little something for yourself in the process.

Contact @Ruquas on discord if interested.

Or join us directly https://discord.gg/C2MzhB3mj6

COME JOIN US!

THANK YOU @laidraws for the lovely artwork!

Thank you willdothefandango for the Prompt!

#stevetony #stony #mth 2023 #steve x tony #podbid #stony fanfiction #tony stark #steve rogers #fanfiction #cool kids only pod #seriously its great #come join us #we have donuts #we dont actually have donuts #that was a lie #im sorry please help us anyway

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kandisheek · 6 months

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*bats eyelashes* Stony drunken Tower shenanigans? Your choice if it's pre or post getting together. 😊

Drunk shenanigans, ey? With pleasure 😁

---

Tony heard rambunctious laughter as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, his lips twitching up in a smile. He’d had the kind of shitty day that deserved to be drowned in alcohol, so a pick-me-up was much appreciated.

Tony rounded the corner, a hand raised in greeting. “Hey, gu-” He stopped dead as a glass hit the door frame in front of him, shattering on impact. Tony cautiously leaned forward, poking his head into the kitchen.

“Another!” Thor yelled, leaned so far back in his seat that it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen off yet. Tony’s eyes automatically swerved to Steve who seemed to be laughing too hard to do anything else, slumped over on the table with tears of mirth streaming down his face. Clint was balancing a bottle on his nose, and Natasha was stacking more and more bottle caps on top. Apparently the team had started without him.

Tony knocked on the door frame. “Did someone order a genius?”

“Tony!” Steve shouted happily, throwing his arms out wide. Tony had about two seconds to be surprised before he got dragged right into Steve’s lap, manhandled like a ragdoll. Tony stiffened, trying to act natural even as his mind chased itself in panicked circles. Oh god, Steve was piss drunk, wasn’t he? He’d never be okay with any kind of PDA otherwise.

The rest of the team didn’t even know they were together yet.

“Heeey,” Steve said, stretching the one word to at least four syllables. “You smell good. I missed you.”

“Hey, Cap,” Tony said, his high-pitched voice drawing the attention of Natasha whose eyes instantly narrowed.

“What are you doing?”

“He’s so soft,” Steve sighed, squeezing Tony’s middle as he nuzzled his neck, which - okay, rude - but Tony was focused on fending Natasha off when she got out of her seat, wobbling a little. Christ, were all of them hammered?

“No! It’s okay, stand down!”

“He’s groping you,” she growled, and - dear god, was that a knife?!

“It’s fine! I promise it’s fine, please sit down.”

She stopped, her steely glare wandering from Steve to Tony. “Are you taking advantage of him?”

Oh shit. “No! No, he’s - I mean, we’re -”

“Oh.” Steve tensed at his back before he turned his chair, making Tony flail as he was tugged along for the ride until Steve had positioned himself between Tony and Natasha, glaring daggers at her. “You can’t have him. He’s mine.”

“What’s happening?” Clint slurred as he finally put down the bottle, a look of unholy glee crossing his face when he saw the knife in Natasha’s hand. “Are we sparring?”

“No! Absolutely not! No weapons!” Tony rushed out, surging to his feet. Steve sat with his arms still outstretched, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Why?” he asked miserably. “Don’t you want me?”

Great. Natasha was looking between them like she didn’t know who to threaten anymore, and Tony sighed, wiping his face with both hands.

“All of you, knock it off. Steve, we’re leaving.”

“Poppycock!” Thor yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. Tony winced at the spidering cracks that appeared in the wood. He’d just bought that table. “Drink with us, friend Tony! Partake in the revels!”

“I wasn’t aware we had revels,” Tony said, grabbing one of Steve’s hands to try and tug him off his chair, to no avail. “Fucking Christ, would you - where’s Bruce?”

Clint blinked. “Where is Bruce?”

“Lab,” Natasha said, and Clint made an ah sound so long it was practically an acceptance speech.

“J, tell Bruce to come up here? We need to wrangle these idiots into bed,” Tony said, and Steve’s eyes lit up as he jumped to his feet, almost knocking Tony off balance with the sudden motion.

“Bed?”

“To sleep,” Tony said firmly, and Steve pouted. Literally stuck out his lip, the fucking - okay, yes, it was adorable, Tony couldn’t lie. “You’re drunk, Steve.”

“You’re drunk,” Steve said mulishly, and Tony sighed.

“I wish I was.” Tony patted his arm before he turned to Clint, offering him both hands. “Okay. Up and at ‘em, Merida, we’ll -”

Tony blinked when he was suddenly in the air, lifted by a firm grip around his waist. “What the -”

“He’s not coming to bed,” Steve said firmly, glaring at Clint as he carried Tony over to the door. At least he still seemed coordinated enough not to run them into a wall. Small mercies. “Just us.”

“Steve - come on, we need to - Bruce!” Tony called out when the man himself stepped out of the elevator, giving them a bewildered look. “Tell Steve we need to put the others to bed!”

“What?” Bruce asked, and Steve gripped Tony tighter, practically growling under his breath.

“You’re not coming either. Tony’s mine.”

Bruce’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he looked at where Steve was holding on to Tony. “Uh. Is this a kidnapping, or -”

“Totally consensual, I promise,” Tony said, and Bruce nodded slowly.

“Right. Okay.” He gave Tony an amused smile. “I’m happy for you? I think?”

“I’m happier,” Steve said petulantly, now cuddling Tony like an oversized teddy bear, both arms wrapped around him. “Happiest.”

“It’s not a competition, big guy,” Tony said, barely holding in a hysterical laugh as he stroked Steve’s forearms. To Bruce he said, “The others are just as fucked up. Give me a second, I’ll -”

“No, it’s okay, I got it.” Bruce’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he turned away. “You’re occupied. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony shouted as Steve carried him into the elevator where he buried his face in Tony’s hair, grumbling under his breath. Tony chuckled. “You know, you’re kind of cute when you’re drunk.”

“You’re cute,” Steve mumbled, and Tony laughed, patting Steve’s hands before he pressed a kiss to them.

“Sure am, Cap. I sure am.”

#marvel #stony #fanfic #stony fanfiction #snippet #fanfic asks

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stonyauniverse · 4 months

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Welcome to Stony jAnUary!

Find rules under the cut.

Join us on Discord!

You do not have to participate in the Stony AUniverse Bingo to join the Stony jAnUary challenge!

♡ Each week you are given an AU theme. Your work must be based in an Alternate Universe within that theme. Use your imagination, and feel free to use your bingo card. You do not have to use your card, but this is an easy way to spark some inspo! You don't have to be signed up for the bingo to participate.

♡ Feel free to make as many works in a week as you please! We just ask that you wait until that week to post.

♡ NSFW works are welcome for all weeks!

♡ Works must be Stony-centric, but polyamorous relationships are allowed!

♡ There are no work minimums or maximums.

♡ No underage works with sexual material are allowed.

♡ We have a dedicated AO3 collection for Stony jAnUary event. In addition, if you @ stonyauniverse and/or tag us #stonyjanuary on tumblr or twitter, we will reblog/retweet your post!

Let us know if you have any questions!

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blotmath41 · 2 years

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AA Stony

#stony fic #stony #stevetony #stony fanfiction

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amaranthmori · 2 months

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Come join our discord community for your fave characters. All fandoms allowed, 18+, kxnk friendly! Multi fandom, fandom ships welcome. Post your art, stories, content or enjoy other’s work. Be part of a friendly, awesome community with fun weekly events and so much more!

https://discord.gg/EZh4QkUqtp

#stony #stony fanart #stony fic #stonyedit #stonyauniverse #616 stony #stony fluff #stony fanfiction #steve x tony

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perlmutt-perl · 7 months

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Jinx my heart

A Stony Hogwarts AU

It's Tony's sixth year at Hogwarts. After studying abroad in Ilvermorney for a year, it's both heaven and hell to be back. Heaven, because he missed the castle like crazy. Hell, because it means facing his childhood friend Steve Rogers again.

Tony wants to either push the Gryffindor up against a wall to kiss him or down a flight of stairs.

Pepper betting on what he'll do first is not helping at all.

#stony #tony stark #steve rogers #steve x tony #stevetony #marvel #ao3 fanfic #stony fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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darsynia · 11 months

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Nearer, My God, To Thee | Stony | Ch. 1

STORY MASTERLIST | TONY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST NEXT

Written for ZaraMelMercury as a part of @tonysbirthdaygala

Summary: Steve Rogers appreciated his unexpected promotion to Fourth Officer-- until it became clear that it was more about being a novelty American-born officer of the White Star Line than it was about his skill at the job. After another frustrating shift attending to First Class, he was rescued by the devilishly handsome Tony Stark, a notoriously brilliant troublemaker annoyed by his own role as the most tempting eligible bachelor on the ship.

Stark suggested a mutually beneficial agreement-- Steve would stand as a duty-borne chaperone to Tony's worst tendencies, thus saving Steve from endless hours of small talk in First Class. As soon as they shook on it, however, both realized their partnership carried much more potential. Length/Warnings: 3,603 words // light D/s themes For @the-slumberparty prompt: "I'm the reason you're still alive"

Note: After years of being captivated by the wreck itself and the stories therein, I couldn't resist choosing a Titanic AU after seeing my giftee's request involving hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, and historical AU! Please note that this is not based on Jack & Rose from the film-- a Stony retelling of that already exists.

This is a fast burn, passionate romance between two people who happen to have met at one of the worst possible times. It's been pure joy to write, and I am so delighted to share it with you now!

Tags: @chickensarentcheap @linnadhiell @sobeautifullyobsessed

Excerpt:

“You look like you could bend metal, with a grip like that,” an amused voice said from behind him.

Steve released the rail, noting the stiffness in his hands. “I beg your pardon, sir,” he said as he turned toward the speaker. The man was impeccably dressed, with facial hair that brought to mind a mythological satyr, but the most compelling thing about him was his eyes. Where every other inch of him spoke of elegance, class, and condescension, this gentleman’s eyes were warm and kind.

The man’s eyebrows lifted, and Steve realized he was staring. He stammered an apology using the only thing he could think of. In the handsome stranger’s breast pocket sat an elaborately embroidered handkerchief, the perfectly-even blue stitches standing out proudly in swirls and knots on the white cloth.

“Forgive me, your handkerchief has caught my--”

“Oh, this old thing?” The man’s accent was American, but he affected a British one for his interruption, patting at the distinctive object. “It’s my signature. I’m never without it. Tony Stark, prince of industry, at your visual service,” he said, dipping his head in a small bow. His lips were twisted in a clearly amused smile that suited his devilish look perfectly.

Chapter One: There let the way appear, steps unto heaven

Being a Fourth Officer on the Titanic was a point of pride for Steve Rogers, even though in practice he spent more time in First Class keeping the rich passengers happy than fulfilling his maritime duties. Lightoller had already pulled him aside to ‘freshen’ his serious expressions into friendlier ones. He’d been reminded that there were no other American-born officers at his level, and that he was doing the White Star Line a service by offering their wealthy American guests ‘the sound of home.’

Steve knew better than to object that his accent had nothing to do with his skill at his job, and neither did the small talk with the Rothschilds or Astors. He kept his uneasiness at bay by stepping out onto the First Class deck space, hoping the brisk air would help calm his mood.

As always, his excitement to see his childhood friend once he arrived in New York kept Steve going; saying goodbye to Bucky Barnes was one of the hardest things about moving to London from America. Their letters to each other came few and far between, particularly now, with Buck in the Army, and Steve at sea.

For a man of limited means, working his way up at White Star was one of the only ways he could get to see his friend again. The promotion to Fourth Officer had been a last-minute surprise, but as much as he hated being cynical, it seemed that it was driven more by a hope to placate passengers than anything useful.

Once a half hour had passed, he was still frustrated. As they had the day before, the passengers outdoors had been delighted to call him over to stand quietly in his uniform as they chatted to each other. It seemed that his duty time on the bridge every day was to be his only respite from the upper classes.

“You look like you could bend metal, with a grip like that,” an amused voice said from behind him.

“Forgive me, your handkerchief has caught my--”

“Sub-Lieutenant Steve Rogers, sir. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Too late, Steve realized he used the convention of a regular introduction, not the more deferential one for men who were not equals. Before he could apologize, Stark waved him off.

“They’ve got you parading through here at every opportunity, it’s only natural you slip into a more familiar greeting. I won’t reveal your mistake if you don’t reveal mine.”

Steve was out of his element; Stark embodied a certain First Class playfulness without somehow grating on Steve’s nerves. Most of the others just gave Steve barely a glance, maybe a nod of recognition of his rank and then moved on, but not Stark.

The man in question lifted his head and sniffed in a full breath of the crisp sea air. He seemed disappointed. “You aren’t going to ask me what the mistake is, are you?”

“With respect, no sir. I am not.”

Stark’s sudden grin hit Steve in the gut in a way he hadn’t felt in years. “Good. I haven’t done it yet. I’ll let you know.”

A young woman walked over to Stark to engage him in conversation. She fully ignored Steve, which was more familiar ground. He stood politely with one hand on the railing, but to his shock, Stark reached back as though bracing himself-- except, he not quite. His hand, undoubtedly precisely placed, was now pinning Steve’s uniform cuff to the railing.

The move was so unhurried, so casually dismissive, that Steve would have been convinced it was exactly as it appeared, if it hadn’t been for Stark’s behavior in the following conversation.

The young woman was dreadfully dull, and his witting captor seemed to offload his annoyance in being stuck listening to her by feigning fascination. Every few minutes, the clever man’s hand slid further in Steve’s direction, taking Steve’s with it by necessity-- and every few minutes, the expression on Stark’s face grew more like a caricature of interest than it had before.

Tony Stark was practically embracing him by the time the young lady said something cutting and flounced off.

“That,” Stark sighed, “--was almost worth it.”

Without explaining what he meant, he stepped back and looked at Steve with a narrow-eyed speculation that made something tighten in Steve’s chest. The ache in his arm was gone in an instant.

“Am I right in assuming you’re tired of playing the toy soldier?”

The right thing to do would be to school his face to impassivity and espouse his duty, but the words died in Steve’s throat. He didn’t want to lie to Stark. Still, his loyalty was to his superiors, and--

Stark clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t choke on the platitudes, man! I understand you perfectly.”

“My apologies,” Steve tried, but the other man shushed him.

“You’re here for my amusement second, and the pride of the Line first, I know. Speaking of the former-- did you know my father is an inveterate womanizer?”

All Steve could do was work to prevent his face from showing shock. This seemed enough for Stark, however.

“I am, of course, following in his esteemed footsteps, but for some reason, my dear papa finds that irritating. He deals with it by lobbing marriageable young women in my direction at every opportunity.” Stark turned to rest his forearms on the railing. “Perhaps we can be of assistance to each other.”

Steve thought about being asked to step into a conversation with any of the young, unmarried women of First Class. The resulting nausea prompted him to turn and face the sea as well, once again gripping the metal tightly.

“Precisely!” Stark said, nudging his elbow with his own. “That was unkind of me. My intention is to ask my father to intercede, state that I’m volatile--” He stopped, pulling out a pipe to absently shift between his fingers. “I am, of course --and ask for an escort, a goodwill gesture to protect the reputations of both passengers and ship. A respectable Sub-Lieutenant such as yourself would be a fine choice, even if you weren’t begging for death with every successive minute you spend in First Class.”

A whistle sounded before Steve could formulate his response. Stark slapped his empty hand on the railing decisively, tucking away the pipe.

“The womenfolk will spruce themselves up before luncheon, meaning I am free to speak with Major Butt about getting the President’s ear for our business. I have no intention of drawing you into my scheme if you’re unwilling, so what do you say?”

Steve took a moment to contemplate, and Stark’s patience during those seconds did a lot to recommend him. The man was certainly engaging, and the respite he was offering was too enticing to give up. “If by ‘scheme,’ you mean your intention to request myself as a personal escort, sir, I am willing.”

“Good man! I’ll speak with my father, then. Do us both a favor and appear exceedingly boring and unruffled by anything I say and do, eh? In public, I mean. In private, I’d expect you to treat me as an equal.”

Stark’s warm eyes and smile of approval sparked something in Steve’s chest, something not entirely made of pride. The ‘out of his element’ feeling returned, for a different reason, now-- but this he could do. Protect this fascinating man from the very things Steve himself was intimidated by? Absolutely. Spend more time together? Please. The chance to escape the strictures of toy soldierdom was a side benefit.

“I can, sir.”

Stark almost ruined things for both of them by reaching out and grasping Steve’s hand for a second. The facade of politeness on Stark’s face faded as quickly as the veneer of cold duty did on Steve’s. There was coalfire in that grip, enough to warm his entire body.

It was sheer luck that most of the passengers had already sought to move inside, and didn’t see them.

Steve was summoned by his superiors an hour before dinner.

“You’re to have priority for laundry, Rogers, as I’m certain you have but one dress uniform, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Howard Stark has requested to speak with you, something about his son and wanting a companion among the officers to keep him in line,” Murdock said. “Tell me now if you have any objections to get out of the way before I send you down to accept?”

That was loud and clear. “No objections, sir.”

“Good. Run and change into your best, then.” The First Officer made a face as he looked him head to toe. “I’ll do my best to find you some pieces to supplement with. If you’re to spend every waking moment with that upstart son of his, you’ll need them.”

The words ‘every waking moment’ fumbled Steve’s fingers on his buttons as he changed clothing in his cramped compartment. Thanks to his efforts in keeping quiet, his sleeping crewmates barely stirred, which was the most kindness he could offer given the lamplight he’d flooded the room with. He wondered if he’d be similarly able to filter out Tony Stark’s light in the days to come. The other man had been perceptive, and his provocative questions had sent Steve’s mind reeling even before he’d realized he was physically attracted.

He’d thought those feelings were behind him, in truth. Years working his way up in maritime commerce meant years surrounded by other men, and nothing had stirred. In a few brief moments, Tony Stark had brushed away the cobwebs, shining his bright smile into the darkest corners of Steve’s mind.

Steve looked down at himself, realizing he’d paused for contemplation at the very worst of times. Well, Stark had implied he would be a bad influence.

Once finished, Steve was painfully conscious of both his need to hurry and the desire to appear calm and unruffled. After all, a hurrying seaman on a ship such as this was liable to concern the passengers, and that was not at all appropriate.

He got to the designated suite of cabins and checked his pocket watch. He was right on time, which was a relief. Steve thumbed the empty place where the picture of his mother used to reside. It fell out in Southampton, and he wouldn’t be able to replace it until he was safely back in England.

Howard Stark turned out to be the back-slapping, gregarious sort. His son was nowhere to be seen, and Steve soon understood why-- Stark Sr. wanted to give him the third degree, asking about his childhood (he dearly missed Brooklyn), his hobbies (Steve kept his sketchbook double bagged at sea), even his love life (nonexistent and not looking). As the time passed, Steve’s legs hurt from holding himself so stiffly, and the thought occurred that Stark couldn’t possibly ask such invasive questions of the young women he sent after his son.

Then again, perhaps the younger Stark was right about his father’s view of women, and he wasn’t sending them over to share Tony’s mind, just his--

An internal door burst open, revealing Tony himself, a long metal tool of some sort in his hand. “Damned thing was locked! Imagine if I had to evacuate! You might have needed to look sideways at my mother to perpetuate the dynasty.”

Howard Stark’s demeanor closed off immediately, and his eyes rolled skyward at Tony’s impudence. “The dynasty is just fine, I’m planning to entrust it to this young man’s capable hands.”

The words may have been spoken with a clear intent to chastise, but with Howard’s back turned to his son, Steve was treated to the full glory of Tony’s reaction. His eyes widened in obvious delight, and one side of his mouth turned up, emphasizing his unique goatee in a way that felt decidedly naughty.

“I hope that means I’ve met with your approval, sir?” Steve said, his heart racing in his chest at the possible double meaning.

“Did you ask him about his hopes and dreams when he was a lad?” Tony asked, coming over to look Steve over as if he were a piece of merchandise. He was carrying the handkerchief that had caught Steve’s eye, and made sure to flick it in his direction a few times, much to his father’s annoyance.

“It’s for your own good, not that you know anything about such things,” Howard griped. “Well, young man, I see that you’re in your dress uniform. Since a different officer shared our table at dinner yesterday, it will be no unusual thing for you to appear there tonight.”

“Am I appropriately dressed? I haven’t shined my shoes since we disembarked, and I--”

Tony’s hand came down on his shoulder from behind as a brusque embrace. “Oh, you shouldn’t have! He’s worried about decorum. This will be fun.” The words were dismissive, but the reassuring squeeze at his shoulder before Tony moved away hinted that it was an act.

Dinner was simultaneously boring and exciting, depending on where Steve allowed his gaze. The scattered nature of seating at the table meant that Steve was across from Tony, who was only a seat away from his father. That left Tony able to make subtle faces behind his fork which Steve was obligated to remain composed in the face of. There was something so captivating about his impropriety, the kind of freedom that Steve could only dream of having.

He ignored the number of nightmares he'd had over the years that involved breaking protocol and reaping the consequences.

Howard’s interrogation made more sense now. An impressionable, fashionable young woman with the need to make a wealthy match would find it near-impossible to resist Tony Stark’s specific charms. The question was, did Howard have other concerns? Was Steve one of a long line of ‘reputation minders?’

“Sub-Lieutenant?”

Steve started in surprise, looking up to see the entire table’s faces arrayed toward him. He’d been staring down at his bowl for so long the shape was burned in for a few seconds. Tony’s expression was smug, as though he knew he was the cause of the woolgathering.

“My apologies,” Steve said, covering his discomfort by touching his lips with his napkin.

“Not at all!” one of the women at the table said kindly. “I confess I forget the question. Someone called out your name in concern you were fatigued, I believe?”

Thinking quickly, Steve decided to go for a kind of flattery. “I’m embarrassed to say I am not. I was caught up in memories of other lively conversations, which made me think of friends I haven’t seen for a long while.”

“I hadn’t considered that!” Mrs. Astor exclaimed. “It’s much harder to see them as often, when you’re away aboard ship, isn’t it?”

The unspoken sentiment that finances were the real impediment hung uncomfortably in the air for a few seconds, and Steve didn’t dare look over at Tony as he nodded.

“The prestige of this voyage should set you up nicely for years, I imagine,” Howard remarked, and the conversation passed to other things. Steve didn’t dare look over at Tony for the rest of the meal, but after a good ten minutes of this, he did notice more noises coming from the table across from him.

The impish man seemed to be baiting him. Steve’s instincts told him he’d be most rewarded by remaining stoic, just as Tony had instructed on the deck earlier that day. It was the first time he’d chosen to be cool and professional because it was exciting, rather than out of duty.

He only slipped up once, but the image of Tony Stark slouching petulantly in his chair, a golden fork in his fingers mid-strike against his plate for the fifth time in a row was well worth the split-second glance.

Unfortunately for the man in question, he was busy speaking to his father and missed it.

When the ladies and gentlemen broke to spend time in their respective after-dinner areas, Steve made his way over to the Stark men for instructions. Tony was already agitated when he got there.

“--tedious, and you know it. It’ll be better for business if I’m not there.”

“I don’t know how you could come to that conclusion,” Howard said drily.

“Just--” Tony broke off, dropping his gesturing hand to jitter at his side. Then he caught sight of Steve. “Just send me onto the deck to ‘think about’ my behavior at dinner and let Sub-Lieutenant Rogers explain all the maritime terms until my eyelids fall off. He’ll do it, look at him! He’s a statue carved by duty.”

The sharp look Tony shot his way certainly sliced through him, but it wasn’t duty that held the knife.

“Go on, then,” Howard said, lighting his pipe. “Keep him distracted from the ladies, would you, Rogers?” he added before turning to follow the group of esteemed men heading for the smoking room.

“I’m still not looking over at you,” Steve whispered to Tony. The act of even saying that sent his heart racing, and the two of them hadn’t even defined what it was that he was avoiding.

“You’re more nervous than a skittish thoroughbred!” Tony whispered at his back, as Steve led him out onto the promenade deck. There were few others out there, but he kept walking until they were standing at a railing the farthest from the door.

He turned around and anchored himself with one hand on the metal, just as before. His heart sank to see the way his companion couldn’t stand still, his eyes darting about. Was he drunk?

“Forgive me, Mr. Stark, but were you serious about the equals thing?”

Stark clenched his jaw. “It’s Tony, and yes.”

Using his first name seemed like acknowledging that there was something unspoken, and Steve was ashamed to admit he wasn’t brave enough. He sidestepped the issue by not using any form of address at all. What he wanted to do was confront Tony about his behavior, which seemed the height of reckless disobedience, exactly the thing Howard wanted Steve to curtail. Was this some sort of game?

It wasn’t like him to risk his employer’s reputation with that kind of confrontation. “You didn’t have to do that.” Tony’s furrowed brow and possible inebriation led him to elaborate. “Compli-- Speak of me on such high terms.”

“Oh, it wasn’t just for you. I was starting to worry about whether your smile joints work. Angering my father was gravy.”

“I noticed,” Steve allowed, somewhat mollified. He looked down at his shoes. “You told me to remain impassive.”

He could hear Tony’s grin in his response. “So I did! You were magnificent.”

Did the railing just give under his hand? Because he felt he could only say something this outrageous after a clear moment of goodwill between them, Steve said, “Was that all to get a rise out of me, or your father? With respect, I don’t think I’m a good target for such things.”

Tony stepped closer, his expression sobering. After a few seconds of scrutiny, he nodded thoughtfully. “I appreciate your candor. Both, I’ll admit. I see now why you might have found it uncomfortable, rather than the game it could have been.” He set his hand next to Steve’s on the railing, without touching. “Can I guess at something?”

Steve nodded.

“The situation made you feel responsible for me, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe that I was misusing my power over you? In creating culpability?”

The reluctance in Steve’s tone turned it gravelly. “Yes.”

“What if I told you I preferred it the other way? That I find it exhausting to always hold the power?”

Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest on hearing that. In fear, yes, but also some other motivator, one that hid in the shadows of his mind, sometimes warring with his sense of what was right, what was just.

“Rogers?”

His instincts told him what to say, but did he have the strength?

“I don’t mean to talk past you, do not trouble yourself. Just a gripe on the imbalance of--”

“My name is Steve,” he interrupted Tony. “Please use it.”

He shouldn’t, couldn’t demand, even though there was every indication that Tony wanted him to. The way Tony's whole body froze still for a second made Steve question himself, but then he turned around. The look of joy and relief on his face hit Steve as hard as their first physical touch had.

Next chapter...

Note: I couldn't resist having Tony reference Major Archibald Butt, a first-class passenger and confidante of President Taft. It was the loss of his friend that had Taft so infuriated at the conflicting reports and machinations by the Marconi company regarding the messages of rescued survivors directly after the sinking. I mention it here because not everyone might know of his existence, and that's quite a last name!

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geeky-writes · 2 years

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Immovable Mountains - Art

This is an absolutely GORGEOUS fan art created by @zappedbysnow for my superfamily fic Immovable Mountains ♥️ 💙 ♥️ Thank you so much for such an incredible piece!! 💖

Fic written for @t0nystark1er for @marveltrumpshate 💙

#steve rogers#peter parker #tony stark #stony fanfiction #superfamily fanfiction #papa steve #iron dad and spider son #immovable mountains #army steve #kid peter #dad tony #geeky writes #fan art for my fic!#marvel fan art #superfamily fan art #stony fan art #thank you!!#zappedbysnow #this is so gorgeous!

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mojiitoos · 7 months

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Steve : “We need a plan.”

Tony : “I have a plan.”

Steve : “It can't involve self-sacrifice.”

Tony : “..I have no longer plan.”

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soineffablygay · 3 months

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Was writing something else entirely, accidentally ended up finishing an old Stony one shot. Bon Appetite.

#Steve punches a Homophobe in this one #ao3 #fanfiction #stony #fanfic #stony fanfic #stony fanfiction #stony fic #stevetony #mcu #writing #one shot #Captain America does what he does best #punching Nazis

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sayahs-corner · 5 months

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Rise Above Excerpt from Chapter 3

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

rating: M

tw: omegaverse, public humiliation mentioned in this excerpt

Steve POV

...His guts writhed uneasily. With guilt. He had found an omega on the border of the territory and marched him right back into the open arms of his abusers. He hadn't listened when the kid told him he didn't want to go back. Steve prided himself on his ability to assess a situation with a level head. He hadn't asked why. He had just assumed that this upstart omega was a spoiled pack princess. With everything he had seen in his life, all the atrocities committed, one would think that he would have known to ask. To question it.

There was something about this omega that distracted him. Made him feel left footed and flustered. And so he had bumbled. Badly.

Now it was on him to fix it.

It did no good to dwell on such things at the moment. He ignored the uncomfortable feeling bristling in his chest. Instead Steve put his nose to the ground, determination steeling inside of him with every step he took.

It had been a relief to reach the clearing and shift back to two legs. That was when the party had started, the kegs of ale rolled out, with wolves of all ages laughing and buzzing with the thrill of the run. Alpha Stark had beckoned Steve over to his side of the fire and plied him with both food and ale. The man was charming, funny, and sharp as fangs. Steve knew, however, that there was more to the man than met the eye. The proof, afterall, was sitting across the clearing with his head bowed and his jaw locked.

Wherever they had been keeping the omega, they must have released him for the party. Most probably because of Steve’s searching gaze, he made no secret of his desire to see the boy. He knew Alpha Stark was nervous, could smell the faintest hint of fear sweat, and visibly see the way the Alpha’s pulse fluttered in his neck. Steve was used to making others uncomfortable even when he wasn't trying. It wasn't something he was particularly proud of. And he certainly wasn't trying now, but it was hard to hide his natural dominance. It’s why he actively avoided the other Alpha’s gaze. He could have hidden it better, and had in the past, but his wolf was clearly agitated and Steve’s control more tenuous than usual.

So when Anthony had finally made his way through the throng of shifters and headed toward that ruffian Brock, Steve had all but bristled in agitation. Something that didn't go unnoticed by the elder Stark.

“Ah, yes. I must thank you again for returning my son to me. I’m afraid he had a bit of…what do they call them? Ah, the mating jitters.”

Steve turned his head slowly toward the other Alpha, tearing his gaze away from Anthony who was now being pulled down forcefully onto Brock’s lap. He could hear the sharp barks of laughter coming from the group of shifters across the way as the young omega was manhandled onto Brock’s knee. Could see the glint of triumph in the poor-excuse-for-an-alpha’s eyes as they boldly met his gaze. As if Steve didn't have the ability to send him crashing to his knees with just a look. As if he couldn't, or wouldn't, separate his head from his shoulders if given the merest provocation to do so. The nasty smirk that curled on Brock’s lip as his hands fell to the omega’s waist, pressing down, making the boy grind himself against his knee had his hackles raising. There was a familiarity there, in his touch. A claiming that did not go unnoticed by Steve. Or Steve’s wolf, for that matter.

It made the beast inside of him snarl. Steve closed his eyes for a moment, knowing they would be glowing with his wolf. Such a loss of control - it wasn't typical for him by any means. He forced his clenched fingers to relax, his jaw to loosen. Took a deep breath through his nose and released it slowly.

“Mating jitters?” Steve questioned, proud of how calm his voice was. Downright mild, as a matter of fact.

“Yes, Anthony is to be mated to my second, Brock, tomorrow. He’s still young, full of fanciful ideas, and doesn't yet realize that this is what is best for him.”

“Mating within the pack is rather unusual, Alpha Stark. You believe this… Brock to be what is best for him?” Steve’s voice was painfully mild.

Alpha Stark turned to him with a tight smile. “Yes, there are very few wolves I would trust more with my son. It is what is best for both him and, in the long run, this pack. Anthony is my only son, my only child. Our pack has,” Howard paused with a soft hum of thought “traditional values. The Starks have been the leaders of this pack for countless generations. With Anthony as Brock’s mate, the Stark bloodline will continue.” Howard chuckled softly, his rueful tone rubbing Steve the wrong way. “I know that Anthony wants to leave. Explore the world. Perhaps find a mate outside of our borders. His mating to Brock will give this pack a stability that our wolves desperately need during these turbulent times.”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “You mean the war?”

Howard nodded, taking a long pull from his tankard. “The war indeed. The Starkland pack has found itself in a…somewhat precarious position. Our weapons and craftsmanship are renowned and we are quickly making a name for ourselves across all of the Northern territories.”

Steve nodded as Howard met his gaze boldly.

“We have to be very careful. There are those who would try to take what we have painstakingly built here over the course of several generations. They are threatened by our success and want it for themselves. We, of course, intend to remain neutral but there are whispers of discontent. Threats at our borders. There are those who would stop us from supplying their enemies with our weapons.” Howard leaned back, fingers spread wide, lips pressed into a grim line.

“It makes my wolves nervous. It makes me nervous. This pack needs stability, but it also needs strong allies. Allies that will stop the threat at our borders from taking over.”

Steve nodded slowly, a creeping, uncomfortable, suspicion forming in his gut.

“There isn't much I wouldn't offer such an ally.” Howard’s eyes had lost their earlier sparkle. The facade falling away to show the cunning animal beneath the mask. “Such an ally need only ask and their entire pack could be outfitted with our best weapons of war. Our best shields. Such an advantage could turn the tide in a battle, no?” Howard paused, his smile a bit hard, his tone mildly suggestive. Almost oily.

“What will it take to earn your protection, Alpha Rogers?”

So, he had been recognized. He shouldn’t be surprised. There weren’t many wolves alive with his level of dominance. Perhaps it was the shield, broken and in need of mending, that had shown his hand. Perhaps it was his stature, or his easy dominance. He was not ignorant to the rumors that surrounded him and his pack. Whatever the reason, the clever Alpha Stark had recognized him.

Steve leaned back, a look of solemn contemplation on his face, despite the way his wolf snapped and snarled on the inside. He didn't want to be allies with this shifter, with this pack. And Howard wasn't asking for his protection from other packs, though Steve was sure that would be a bonus, he was asking for protection from Steve’s pack. Which, if the Starkland pack had been on the up and up, he would have never needed to worry about.

Steve didn't make it a habit to go after innocent shifters. He went after the rotten, cancerous, packs that bullied, beat, and killed their pack members. Sometimes it was as simple as switching out the Alpha of the pack. Sometimes the whole pack had to be put down. Steve didn't relish it.

There were good shifters here, shifters who didn't deserve to die because their leader was a morally corrupt bastard. How could he protect this man? This pack?

But then his gaze was drawn over toward that damnable omega again. The one who haunted his thoughts. The one who had pulled him out of that river, breathed life back into his lungs. That fierce little creature had saved his life and Steve owed him a debt of gratitude.

If he were being truly honest with himself, he owed the little omega more than that.

It was Steve, after all, that had driven the omega back from the border and into the waiting arms of his abusers. Steve looked over, across the clearing, to see that the omega was facing him now, perched awkwardly on Brock’s knee, the curtain of his hair hiding his expressive eyes from view. But Steve didn't need to see the omega’s face to know that he was humiliated. It was there in the tight line of his body, in the way his shoulders seemed to curl in on themselves, the way his fingers bit into his own thighs. The omega’s lips were pressed into a thin line, pulling down at the corners, even as a bright flush crawled up his neck and into his cheeks. Brock had one hand on the boy’s hip, making him grind down on his knee like a bitch in heat, while the other hand had worked its way beneath the omega’s shirt. In front of a group of their peers. Brock was making the boy debase himself, to rut against his leg in a mimicry of a sex act. He had his lips pressed to the omega's ear, no doubt whispering awful things if the way Anthony flinched was any indication.

What was worse, in Steve’s opinion, was that there were guffaws coming from that group of wolves. As if the objectification and humiliation of the pack omega was somehow hilarious. Normal and expected, even. That his shame, his embarrassment, was something to relish.

Something hot, possessive, and wicked rose up inside of him then. His wolf did not like anyone touching what he considered to be his.

His? Well, shit.That was an uncomfortable realization for a number of reasons. But Steve didn't have long to dwell on it.

Anger was boiling in gut, frothing over and rising up his throat like acid. It took a considerable amount of effort not to burst up from his seated position and stalk across the clearing to whip the boy away from that brute. To tear into Brock’s throat with his fangs, to taste his blood on his tongue as the life faded away from the shifter’s eyes.

He turned back to the conversation at hand, his jaw set in a stubborn line.

“What would it take? Your Omega, for starters.”

for @princessdark20920 who requested an excerpt of what I was currently working on :P This chapter is gonna be a long one - clocking in at 12k words so far! It's almost done I swear! Maybe this weekend???

#fanfiction #stony fanfiction #omegaverse #sayah writes #excerpts

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