#tmdc2022

[liquidlightz]

Arm amputee Bucky Barnes for the @marveldisabilitycelebration , with his beloved kitty Alpine perched on her favourite spot 💛

Image Described below...

[Begin ID:     Digital artwork of James Bucky Barnes from the chest up, standing at side angle with his back to us, left shoulder front and centre.  He is wearing a navy blue tank top and we can see the side of his chest and bare left arm that is amputated just below the shoulder. Bucky's white cat Alpine is perched against his chest, her paws wrapped over and around his shoulder, pink tongue licking happily over it.  Her blue eyes are intently focused on her task, tail raised behind her. Bucky's head is turned over his shoulder, sparkling blue eyes watching Alpine, his lips pursed to kiss the side of her face.  He sports long shaggy brown hair plus a beard and moustache.  /end ID]

✨

My Bingo fills :

@buckybarnesbingo - Card B073, square U5 : Alpine

✨

[dreamsinthewitchouse]

[Image Description: An image of trees against a starry sky with text depicting the fic's title ”Space Annual” and author ”dreamsinthewitchouse” /End Image Description]

Space Annual

@marveldisabilitycelebration Rating: Teen Wordcount: 1.5k Major tags: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau, Found Family, Domestic Fluff, PTSD Recovery Super soft domestic cheese featuring Stucky & Space Family, Part 3 of Something Distant Calls.

Read on AO3

Bucky wakes up in a bed that’s not his own, a sweat-damp sheet bunched around his waist. He rolls onto his back, taking in the warmth of the room, the sunlight pouring in through the gap in the curtains, the shape of a large tree right outside the window. The silence takes some getting used to, but every time they come down here he can feel a layer of tension draining out of his body, taking the nightmares with it.

[v-thinks-on]

The first thing Charles is aware of is anguish - a hazy turmoil of emotions that he doesn’t have the wherewithal to decipher. There’s only one mind it could be.

“Your thoughts are very loud, my friend.”

It’s more disgruntled than fond, but the response is obvious and immediate relief and Charles can’t help but agree with the sentiment. They both could have received a much less promising greeting, or worse none at all.

Charles is aware enough to know that he’s been drugged, apparently quite heavily. Everything feels muted and off-kilter, but it’s not enough to alleviate the pain that emanates from his middle and permeates the rest of his body with a sharp ache. He’s lying in a bed, propped up by more pillows than he can count, in the middle of a darkened hospital room. The window is open and Erik stands halfway across the room, back in his usual leather jacket and black turtleneck, eyeing Charles warily.

Charles is also aware enough to know what happened - and to almost wish that he didn’t.

“My answer hasn’t changed,” he informs Erik sternly, even as everything tilts precariously around them. “If you try to destroy the world, I will do everything in my power to stop you.”

They’d destroy us first, Erik’s thoughts blare, but aloud all he says is a rueful, “I know.” His perpetual anger and desperation are now intermingled with powerful waves of guilt.

Thank you to the @marveldisabilitycelebration for giving me the push to write Agito!

[thedamageofherdays]

Sure [Stucky]

Steve is back in his pre-serum body and he and Bucky both need to readjust.

Tags/Warnings: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Disabled Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Arguments

Word Count: 1047 words

This was created for the @marveldisabilitycelebration and you can read it here:

[aimmyarrowshigh]

Marvel Disability Week 2022 Drabbles - Day 1

@marveldisabilitycelebration :)

Copper - James "Rhodey" Rhodes | archiveofourown.org/works/40530798

Roughness - Dr. Charles Xavier | archiveofourown.org/works/40530843

Shadow - Matt Murdock | archiveofourown.org/works/40530897

Investigation - James "Bucky" Barnes | archiveofourown.org/works/40530930

Gargoyle - (Pre-Serum) Steve Rogers | archiveofourown.org/works/40530981

[gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes]

Spinneret 

[Image Description: Spideypool by llflorence (aka Gfawkes)]

My entry for the @marveldisabilitycelebration

Character prompt: Wade Wilson: Terminally ill with cancer, he underwent an experimental treatment which caused physical deformities and chronic pain.

"You should have seen me before cancer, before the accident. Tom Cruise couldn't hold a candle to me. But what matters is these kids' faces when they see someone who looks like them. Kids who don't care what you look like. Whether you have warts or pimples or huge gaping abbesses. They care about what's inside. A dirty joke. A well-timed fart. You know, the good stuff."

"But —"

"I don't know how long I'll live for, Spidey. Maybe forever. And My Biggest Fear, besides cows," Wade shuddered, "is being alone."

Whatever Peter expected Wade to say, it wasn't that.

[ireneadonovan]

[Image ID: Charles Xavier (as portrayed by James McAvoy) sitting in his power wheelchair in front of a layered background of disability pride flags (black field with diagonal stripes of red, yellow, white, blue, and green) with the caption "July is Disability Pride Month." End ID]

For @marveldisabilitycelebration

[duchessonfire]

[Image ID: A moodboard consisting of five pictures against a light gray background. The edges of the pictures are as if torn from a page. There are three pictures on the left side and two pictures on the right side. The top picture on the left is of Tony Stark, wearing glasses, visibly thin and sick. The picture in the middle left side is of Steve Rogers, looking straight ahead without smiling. The bottom left picture is the tattooed hands of a man holding a cane with a white handle. On the top right side is a picture of Steve Rogers, looking down, visibly unhappy. The picture below is of Tony Stark, wearing a glove with the Infinity Stones, about to snap his fingers. On the bottom right corner of the image, a text in black reads “I don’t know how to tell you that you’re not broken to me.��� /.End ID]

Moodboard and prompt by yours truly for:

@marveldisabilitycelebration

@cabottombingo square B3 "Never meant to hurt you"

@steverogersbingo square A4 "Scars"

I don't know how to tell you that you're not broken to me: a 300-word, mature-rated Stony prompt featuring talks of physical and sexual disability, Dom/Sub relationship, and two people trying to navigate the new disabilities in their lives.

NSFW prompt under the cut. If anyone wants to take a crack at it, that would be so lovely.

After Tony survives the Snap, he and Steve decide to put the past five years behind them and to give their relationship another go. But using the Stones took its toll on Tony and their previous Dom/Sub dynamics are now in shambles.

Unable to move without a chair or a cane, left deeply scarred, and with his heart too weak to put on the Iron Man suit again, Tony spirals, feeling useless now that he can’t be the hero the world needs.

Steve passed on the shield to Sam to stay and care for Tony, but it soon appears clear that Tony perceives his help as charity and Steve is left in a bind when every single display of love or affection from him is misinterpreted as pity by Tony. How can he tell his Dom that his help is a product of love and that he doesn’t mean to hurt his pride by staying with him?

Worst of all, they both struggle with the place of sex and kink in their new relationship. While Steve insists that he wants them to be together romantically more than physically, Tony still can’t accept that his sex life will never be the same and that he’s now unable to care for Steve and top him in bed the way he used to. Being a Dom and Top to Captain America used to be a challenge he relished, but now, knowing that his body can’t follow his sexual desire for Steve leaves him frustrated, and Steve’s insistence on them not having sex if Tony can’t get hard even more so.

How can he explain to Steve that he doesn’t need to be hard for them to enjoy sex again? How can he give his Sub what they both know Steve needs when Tony doesn’t believe in himself anymore?

And more importantly: will they both be able to move on from the emotional and physical scars left by Thanos and the hurt they’re now causing each other?

[severeearthquakefan]

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, "Where did my baby go?"

a stucky fic inspired by the taylor swift song coney island. that song is made for them.

also made for the marvel disability week @marveldisabilitycelebration. go check them out.

Maybe he broke Stevie, maybe that was it.

After all the whole reason steve ever got into trouble was because of him. He broke his best friend, punched and punched till his mission was complete. 

Maybe he completed his mission, maybe hydra won. Steve was gone now wasn’t he?

That sends chills up his arm.

Did I close my fist around something delicate?

Did I shatter you?

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

Being different in the Red Room wasn’t allowed. In fact, it got you killed.

Natasha had always helped her when she didn’t understand things, when kids would laugh at her for being unable to tie her laces, or for only talking about My Little Pony. She wouldn’t tease her, just patiently help her learn the skill (or do it for her, if Yelena was being honest). She’d always play with her and make sure she understood what was going on.

And now she was alone. The first time Yelena tripped because she couldn’t do up her laces she was hit around the face so hard the world spun.

She learned fast after that. You are not enough. Yelena is weird and different and that is bad.

OR moments of yelena's life of growing up up in the red room whilst being autistic, plus all the things that came later

this was written for the marvel disability celebration (check them out! @marveldisabilitycelebration )

[marveldisabilitycelebration]

The Marvel Disability Celebration is here!

We can't wait to see all your wonderful creations. Please share your them with us through the hashtag #tmdc2022 and by tagging the blog so we don't miss any.

You can check out our rules here:

And you can find our AO3 collection here:

You can also win badges with this event:

A submission form for the badges will be shared later this week on our Tumblr and Discord server.

Please give your fellow creators some love and happy creating!!

- THE TMDC MODS

[marveldisabilitycelebration]

7 Days Until The Marvel Disability Celebration!

TMDC is an event meant to celebrate disability within all the universes of Marvel which takes place July 24th - July 30th 2022.

Any types of creations are welcome and will be shared on our Tumblr and our AO3 collection. During the event you can also win some badges which you can find here:

It's of course important to read our rules before participating. You can read the full list of rules here:

Just in case here are some highlights of the rules:

Your work must contain at least one disabled character and the fic must focus on this character. They can be canoncially disabled or not but your fic must contain Marvel characters.

Any visuals must be accessible. This means any art, moodboards, gifs and so on must have image descriptions. We won't share it otherwise! If you need help with image descriptions, please contact us.

To ensure your works get seen and shared by us tag the blog and use the tag #tmdc2022

Be kind to other participants and the mods! Everyone is doing this in their spare time and for fun, so let's make sure it remains fun for everyone involved.

We are looking forward to all your creations and we hope you are excited too!

See you soon!

- The Marvel Disability Celebration Mods

[marveldisabilitycelebration]

Badge Claim Form TMDC 2022

[ireneadonovan]

For @marveldisabilitycelebration

Erik develops this disease...

[Image ID: Crystalline Hearts by Irene A Donovan. Erik and Charles on a background of a heart drawn in sugar crystals. End ID.]

Chapter One

Erik Lehnsherr had wondered if he was going insane. He probably wasn't, he'd decided. He was, however, going blind.

It had started subtly, colors seeming washed out when they should have been vibrant, the whole world seeming just a little fuzzy around the edges. But now everything was blurry and getting blurrier, and all but the brightest colors were gone, casting his world into shades of grey.

He'd gone to a string of eye doctors, but none had found anything to explain the rapid and alarming decline, had found nothing at all beyond some crystalline structures the size of fine sand in his tear ducts, had told him only to prepare himself for what appeared inevitable.

Inevitable.

He wasn't ready for this.

Maybe he wouldn't ever be ready.

But it was happening.

His doorbell rang, and he rose, knowing who it was by the mass of sleek titanium alloy he sensed on the other side of the door. The last person he wanted to talk to right now, the first person who would know something was wrong. His best friend. Charles.

He halted after taking only a few steps. He couldn't face Charles. Charles would indeed know something was wrong, not just because he was a telepath, but because he knew Erik that well.

"Erik? Are you all right? I know you're in there."

"I'm fine," Erik called back.

"Bullshit," Charles said. "I haven't seen you in two weeks, and you haven't even answered my texts in days."

Erik could no longer read his phone screen, even with maximum enlargement. "You're not going to go away, are you?" Erik said dryly. He briefly entertained going out the bedroom window, but memory of the thorn bushes beneath it and the notion of trying to get through them blind had him scrapping that idea.

"No. So are you going to open the door?"

Erik sighed, swearing under his breath, then used his powers to unlock and open the door.

Charles was little more than a dark blur in the doorway, but as he wheeled in and came closer, his figure resolved into something recognizably human, if lacking in detail. "Something's wrong," he said without further preamble. "You're practically screaming 'go the fuck away,' and you don't do that without reason."

Erik surrendered -- he couldn't have hidden it much longer anyway. "It's my eyes," he admitted.

"How bad?" Charles asked quietly.

"Bad," Erik answered. "Everything's blurry as fuck, and it's probably just a matter of time before it's all gone."

He heard Charles' soft inhale. "What is it?"

"Nothing anyone's seen before." He laughed, sharp and bitter. "Whatever it is, it's happening fast. Two months ago, I was fine. A week ago, I could still read my phone. Now I can barely cross the room without crashing into something. In another couple of weeks, it'll probably all be gone."

"Fuck."

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Erik admitted, sinking to his knees.

Charles captured his hands, squeezed them firmly, held them to his chest. "What we are going to do right now, my friend, is get very, very drunk. Then tomorrow, we'll start figuring this out."

"We?"

"Yeah. You're not alone, Erik. Even if it feels that way right now."

Erik clung to Charles' hands like a lifeline.

~xXx~

Erik opened his eyes to pale sunshine and a throbbing head. His mouth tasted like a small animal had died in it, his stomach was doing slow flip-flops, and every muscle ached. He squinted against the light, then blinked a few times to clear his vision.

Nothing changed. Oh, yeah, right.

It was always a shock, first thing in the morning, and the hangover wasn't helping as he struggled to orient himself without most of his sight. He groaned softly and rolled over, away from the light, intending to go back to sleep.

Only to find he wasn't alone in bed.

He peered at the vague form beside him, recognized an amorphous blob of dark hair. Charles.

Charles. The best friend he'd been in love with for nearly a decade.

Rolling over had brought him up close to Charles' body, to Charles' back, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off his friend's body, close enough that his cock nearly brushed Charles' ass.

He should roll back over, rather than torture himself with what he couldn't have. He should.

Instead, he closed his eyes, leaned just a little closer, and went back to sleep.

When he woke again, the light in the room was a little brighter, and his arm was slung possessively around Charles' hips, the curve of his flaccid cock painfully clear where Erik's arm lay across the thin cotton of Charles' boxers.

Charles was oblivious, still dead asleep, and he wouldn't feel Erik's touch there even if he were awake. Erik eased his arm away then sat up, his head protesting the movement, though the pain remained manageable.

His searching fingers found the bottle of water on his bedside table, and he downed most of it then re-capped it. He turned his head from side to side, squinting at the blurry shapes about him, trying to judge whether his vision had faded further in the night.

It had. It always did. Yesterday he'd been able to identify the shape of the doorway across the room, but this morning there was nothing there but a dark shadow, barely even distinguishable.

Helpless rage spiked within him, and he hurled the water bottle across the room. It hit the wall with a resounding thwack, fell to the ground with a softer thunk.

"What the--?" The noise finally roused Charles, and Erik felt the mattress shift as the other man sat up.

"I got pissed," Erik admitted. "I threw my water bottle."

"Ah," Charles said. "That's okay. Now pick it up."

"What?"

"Pick. It. Up." An air of soft command in his words.

"I don't know if I can even find it."

"You can, and you will." Charles' voice had slid into what Erik thought of as his teaching mode, full of calm authority. "Think about where you heard it hit and start looking there."

Erik rose, turned in the direction he'd thrown the bottle, and walked forward cautiously until his fingers brushed the corner of the dresser, then he stopped, unsure of what to do next.

"What was the sound like? Did it hit the dresser? Did it hit the wall?"

Erik considered. "The wall, I think." He took two steps to his right, then sank to his knees, hands sweeping outward just above the carpet.

His fingers brushed rounded plastic, and he wrapped his hand around the bottle. "Got it."

"Good. Now bring it back."

That sounded scary. Even yesterday he'd been able to see enough to keep from crashing into the furniture. Not today. He rose, turned slowly, squinted into the shadows.

"Walk toward my voice," Charles said, then he kept talking, quiet and rhythmic, just stuff about what he'd done the day before with his sister.

Erik concentrated on the sound and homed in on it, breathing a sigh of relief when his knee bumped the bed. He turned and sank onto the mattress. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You can, and you will." Charles' voice was gentle but insistent. "What's your other choice? Never moving from this bed again?"

Erik's smile was a little wry, a little grim. "Something tells me you've heard this speech yourself."

A soft chuckle. "I have indeed, my friend." The bed shifted as Charles moved, then he took Erik's hand.

Erik gripped it tightly. "I just don't know what he fuck to do."

"You're going to need some help, people to teach you how to function, and you're going to hate it every bit as much as I did. But it won't be forever. Your life has changed, but it's not over."

Erik clung to Charles' words -- and his hand -- like a lifeline.

[ireneadonovan]

For @marveldisabilitycelebration

A sequel to my fic In Search of Pop Tarts. The series is here.

[Image ID: In Search of Something Sweet by Irene A Donovan for Camille Chaos Writter. Erik and Charles on a background of a brownie and berry dessert. End ID.]

After a week of phone calls and texts, Erik asked Charles to meet him for coffee. Charles had accepted immediately, but now with a little more than an hour to go before their date, he was feeling nervous as hell.

Even though Erik seemed fully comfortable with his disability, Charles knew from painful experience he might not be able to deal once he saw just how much help Charles needed just to get through a day. The man had two kids -- would he really want to take on a tetraplegic boyfriend long-term?

"You okay?" Raven asked as she ran a comb through his hair.

He explained, and she thumped him lightly on the head with the comb. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You're just meeting him for coffee, not planning a life together."

His smile was a little tight. "And what does Irene say? Will this work out?"

Raven shook her head. "You know she won't tell. But she did send you to meet him, so at least he's not an axe murderer or anything."

Charles sighed, but his smile broadened. "It's a start."

Raven gave him a quick hug. "It is. Now go knock him dead."

Charles' confidence was flagging again by the time he reached the coffee shop, and discovering he couldn't open the door was nearly a death blow. He looked around to see if anyone was nearby, considered just leaving, then the door swung outward, seemingly of its own accord.

He looked inside, saw Erik sitting at a table and grinning at him, his hand raised in a subtle gesture.

Charles felt his cheeks flush a bit, and he entered, beelining toward Erik. The chair across from him had already been moved, and Charles slid into the empty space.

Erik's smile was slightly sheepish. "Sorry. I didn't realize about the door.

"It's all right." And it really was,  just another of the myriad small inconveniences he dealt with on a daily basis.

"I'm glad you came," Erik said, smile broadening. "Do you know what you'd like?"

Charles turned his head to study the menu board. "Earl Grey," he said, "with milk, in a travel cup."

"Any pastries?"

"Surprise me."

Erik rose and ambled up to the counter, and Charles watched him with appreciation. He was damned good looking, with shaggy auburn curls, aqua eyes, and a killer body.

Charles suppressed another pang of insecurity.

Erik returned quickly, sign with his name on it held loosely in one hand. He set it on the table as he slid back onto his seat.

"What did you get?"

Erik's smile grew sly and teasing. "You said to surprise you."

Charles pretended to pout. "At least give me a clue."

"Do you like chocolate? Berries?"

Charles grinned. "Yes, and yes." 

Erik's smile broadened. "I didn't order either of those."

"Tease."

Erik was about to respond when a server arrived with two mugs and an absolutely sinful concoction of chocolate and berries. He set the mugs down and forks, then set the dessert between them. It was brownies and berries and glossy chocolate ganache.

"Wow," Charles said.

"I did good?"

"You did very good."

Erik reached for a fork. "Will you need help?"

Charles was glad Erik had asked rather than presuming. Just one more reason to like him. "A little," Charles said. "There's a pocket on the palm of the brace." He extended a hand toward Erik. "Slip the fork handle in there and I can do the rest."

Erik looked almost -- disappointed? "I rather hoped we could share a fork," he said with a soft smile.

"Okay." More than okay.

Erik forked up a bite of the gooey, decadent mess and offered it to Charles.

Perfection.

[marveldisabilitycelebration]

Marvel Disability Celebration 2022 Badges

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