#i'm steve in this situation

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[asksteverandle]

Can I have my boyfriend back?

-Sandy <3

No <3

go back to Florida

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

(A tall boy with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and an elvish face. Identical to Dally. The boy is in jeans, a leather jacket, and a wifebeater with his hair greased.)

Heya I’m Caleb Winston and I’m looking for a Dallas? He’s my half brother and I ain’t seen ‘im since he left New York 8ish years ago.

Soda and Steve freeze up at the individual who stands in front of them, both equally shocked. And a bit terrified.

It felt like seeing a ghost.

“You– Dallas?” Soda struggled to get the words out. “Shit, fuck– uhm.”

“Oh, shit.” Steve just stared. “You ain't got half a clue, if you're looking for him, do you?”

Soda got up and left immediately, as to where he walked off to is beyond Steve. All that was noticable is he walked off with a pack of cigarettes clutched in his hands.

Steve held out an awkward hand. “I'm Steve. I, we... we were friends with Dallas. He–” Steve huffed. Soda left him with the difficult work. “God, I don't know how to break this to you.”

“Dallas passed away sometime last year.” It felt blunt in the way Steve said it, but it was obvious there was some emotional warble in the way he spoke.

Soda was stood outside the DX now, staring blankly out into the distance, holding a lit cigarette. Apparently he wasn't dealing with this.

Steve sighed. “I-I'm real sorry. Do you– what're you looking for, exactly? I can still... help.” He shrugs awkwardly.

“All of his stuff is still kept somewhere in Buck's, I think.”

[deoidesign]

I need to know if I'm delusional and projecting onto random characters or if Adam and/or Steve are neurodivergent

You can project whatever you want on them, and I don't know that it's "canon" so to speak but I write them with neurodivergent intent in mind just based on my own life experiences!

so I'm projecting on them too, but it's up for debate whether that's coming across in the text.

Adam is autistic and Steve has ADHD. To Me.

[jonathanbyersphd]

Jancy Nation rn

[aurumacadicus]

110 for the ask meme!

To be clear, Steve is still pre-serum size, all the serum did was make him healthy/super-strong. The Propaganda Cap was a hired actor so it wasn't exposed that he's tiny until after the war.

--

Peggy had said she'd find a place for him at SHIELD, but Steve had to wonder what, exactly, that place would be. He felt out of place as he followed her down the halls, like he was taking up space he hadn't earned. He was still smarting from the ring on Peggy's finger, and he couldn't help but feel she was putting him elsewhere because she knew it. 'Once your therapist has given the all clear, we'll reevaluate your position,' she'd said, kindly and compassionately, and clasped her hands on the desk in a way it hid her wedding ring from his eyes.

"So, this... protection detail," Steve tried, slanting her a questioning glance as he finally stepped up beside her.

"Protection detail is the term we're using," Peggy answered, and then, before he could get rankled at the idea that he was being shoehorned into a dummy job, she continued, "Of course, attempts have been made on Anthony's life, but at this point, he's... more of a danger to himself."

Steve scowled, and he leaned forward to make sure she saw it. "So I'm a glorified babysitter."

Peggy coughed, clearly in a way to cover a laugh. "He'll be good for you. He won't pull any of his punches for you like anyone else might because you're Captain America. In fact, he'll probably go out of his way to try and push your buttons."

"You're already harassing me with one of those," Steve grumbled. Clint was friendly enough, but he was also prone to falling out of the vent into Steve's room.

"Anthony is one of a kind," Peggy assured him as they finally approached a door labeled WORKSHOP IV. She swiped her badge, and the doors slid open.

Steve followed her through, already scanning the room. It was wide, filled with tables laden with half-finished equipment, a few weapons. There was a man sitting in a spinning chair and slowly going in circles, who quickly stood up as soon as he realized they had entered. He suspected the man was Anthony. He certainly looked like a scientist, with his crisp white lab coat and askew glasses.

Peggy sighed, loudly. "Where is he, Dr. Banner?"

"I'm certain I have no idea," the man, Dr. Banner apparently, answered promptly. "I've been waiting for him myself. In fact, maybe he actually went to meet me in my lab. We should go check." He began toward the door quickly.

"Where is he, Dr. Banner," Peggy repeated, voice flat, expression sharp, and Steve couldn't help a sympathetic wince as Dr. Banner drew up short and sort of... sagged in defeat.

Dr. Banner turned, somehow trudging those two small steps, and let out a sigh of his own. "I did tell him to wait until I could get a crash mat."

Steve and Peggy immediately looked up. There was a man on the ceiling. It looked like he had plungers on his hands and knees. There was a stack of three forty-five pound weights hanging from a harness he was wearing.

"This isn't what it looks like," the man said after a brief pause. "You can't tell my dad. If you do, I'll tell him state secrets."

"Anthony, you get down from there this instant," Peggy barked, and Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Anthony scowled down at her. "No! I need to make sure these grippers can hold up to four hundred pounds. So far they only handle three-fifty."

"You're over two hundred pounds?" Steve asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest. Anthony looked one-eighty at most.

Anthony swiveled his head, not unlike a bird, to turn his scowl on Steve. "I'm svelte. Who the fuck are you?"

Steve sighed, turning his gaze back to Peggy. "It really feels like I'm being punished," he said flatly, but he knew he couldn't quite keep the smile from playing at his lips.

Peggy narrowed her eyes at Anthony. "Well, it's not a great first impression to show that you're not babysitting," she reluctantly agreed. "Anthony, come down, or I'll have Steve get you down."

Anthony looked, somehow, even angrier. "I don't need a babysitter and I was only slightly kidnapped last time so I don't need a bodyguard either."

"How are you only slightly kidnapped," Steve asked, but was drowned out by both Peggy and Dr. Banner shouting at him that he'd also somehow glued himself to the wall so maybe yes he did need a babysitter. He also wanted to know how Anthony glued himself to a wall, but he got the feeling that was something he'd have to get from Clint the next time he fell through his vent instead of from anyone in the room with him currently.

"Steve," Peggy sighed, waving her hand up at him. She glanced at her watch, looking irritated. "I have a meeting with the DOD."

"I'll get him down," Steve assured her.

"Hah!" Anthony crowed. "You're like, five feet tall. How you gonna reach me, shortie?"

"I'm leaving," Peggy said, and then she grabbed Dr. Banner by the arm to lead him out. He didn't look like he needed much encouragement.

Steve turned to the room again, considering, then finally walked over to one of the tables, where it looked like Anthony had been working on a replica of his shield.

"Hey, that's still in trials," Anthony barked.

Steve flipped the shield between his fingers, getting used to the weight, then turned, using the momentum from the spin to fling it full force at Anthony. It bounced off of the row of weights, and they swung wildly to one side, then the other, rocking Anthony and his sticky plungers side to side as he squawked in offense and alarm. Steve walked over to stand below him just as the hand plungers popped free.

"ACK," Anthony squawked as he somersaulted down, knee plungers popping free under the combined weight of Anthony, the weights, and gravity.

Steve caught the strap the weights were attached to as they dropped past him, then lifted his other arm, so Anthony dropped into them neatly. When Anthony only blinked up at him, wide-eyed and hands still held up awkwardly, Steve couldn't help a smirk. "Just because I'm short doesn't mean I'm helpless."

Anthony blinked at him one more time, then scowled again. "Just because you're hot doesn't mean I'm not going to be annoying as hell."

"...What," Steve began, but then Anthony was rolling out of his arms and hefting the stack of weights up so he could stalk off like an offended cat. "What?!" he tried again, but Anthony was muttering about ultimate tensile strength and other ductile materials.

[dinkeydina]

thank lord this site lets you post in any ratio your heart desires, twt's clipping and quidelines piss me off ughhhh~

[florallylly]

back to stobin thoughts like why are they so wise for each other in fics sometimes. like 9/10 times they're giving each other good advice. in reality i feel like it's more of a hit or miss (mostly miss) 3/10 times they give each other good advice. i think they'd typically hype each other up for the worst possible choices (dump them/quit your job/confront that coworker), but rarely actually follow through. like they're complaining. they're brainstorming. but anything concrete? absolutely not.

[lnsfawwi]

can Steve even get depression?

at some point depressive mood developes to depression and if it continues, your brain chemistry alters and exacerbates the condition.

but if the serum is supposedly able to cure all the illness, can Steve even be clinically depressed, or is he just stuck in an endless cycle of sad-mild depression-sad? he probably can't even get medication for it or proper treatments because his case is so complex and unique.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

bloodsong of oh shit....oh fuck

[sodapopcurtis-dx-asks]

LOOK AT MY STINKY DOG. I LOVE HIM. STINKY FUCK

Soda once again pulled out another collection of papers, only to find a series of animal pictures.

“Oh– Haha! Those are cute n' silly! Pony, you want 'em?”

Ponyboy just stared. “Do people regularly show you random photos of their animals or sum'thin'?”

Soda frowned. “Noooo... But it's fun!”

“But it's a question jar. For questions. You asked for questions on the paper.” Ponyboy tapped the jar with his pencil.

Steve kicked at Ponyboy. “Let the people have their fun. Maybe they just wanted to show their pets off to the class.”

Soda waved off Steve. “Don't kick him, he didn't do anything wrong– he made a decent point!”

Two-Bit was snickering to himself. “Uh-huh.”

“What's funny to you, Two?” Steve raised an eyebrow at Two-Bit, leaning over his shoulder to see another note.

“'S for you, again.” He passed it over.

Two-Bit nudged Steve. “Just another paper to add onto your list of problems.”

Soda glanced over. “What happened?”

Steve just read it over twice before tucking the note into his pocket. “Evie. I guess she's ready to talk now...” He shrugs.

Ponyboy just piped up again. “That's also not a question paper. You just let people put whatever in there?”

Steve kicked Ponyboy again.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

So I had an edible. And I thought what if Dom Bucky had Steve draw a self portrait of his own cock so that he could keep a picture of his sweetheart in his wallet. Steve sees Bucky take paper out of said wallet and show it Clint. Is Bucky really showing Clint Steve’s cock?! He doesn’t know and it makes Steve squirm and blush.

Clint? Clint licks his lips as his eyes shoot over to Steve.

And then they all take edibles and fuck lol

I couldn't stop thinking about this during my commute today. Like, there's something about this. I'll admit I was thinking about it in a less smutty way and more like crack-treated-seriously, though. I still very much like the idea, don't get me wrong!

So, Bucky demands that Steve draw a self-portrait... of his dick. For him. And Steve grumbles a little about it. First of all, he's embarrassed by the thought of anyone knowing he's spent a few hours by himself staring at his dick, trying to capture it on paper. There's something about it that makes heat rise on the back of his neck. It's sounds so self-absorbed. Second, his stubborn streak rears its head when he snips back that he is not going to spend so much time drawing something for Bucky just for him to ruin it with his jizz, jerking off with it in-hand.

Bucky scoffs, he has respect for the arts! Especially Steve's arts! He's not gonna jerk off over it. It's just a reminder. Like the pictures he never got to have of Steve when he was deployed before Steve (thanks, homophobia). If it would make Steve feel better, though, he smiles smugly, he could frame it.

The heat over the back of Steve's neck spreads upward over his cheeks. Yeah, okay, not that. Whatever else, just no frames. The only thing worse than anyone stumbling upon the information would be seeing the evidence.

It's not until after Steve's handed it over that it occurs to Steve that, hey, wait--why do you need a reminder? You know you can have a look (or a feel 😏) whenever you want, right?

Bucky is all too happy to take him up on that offer, pleased as punch to have both a drawing and an invitation presented on a silver platter 😈 poor Stevie, lmao. The blackmail is just piling up, isn't it? Haha

[arathejedi394]

15yo me while writing: [character] does not have enough fucks to fill a pencil box

19yo me while writing: [character] does not have two shits to rub together to make a stink about [issue]

25yo me: wait,,, what if,,, i combined,,, the lack of fucks to give and not having enough shits to rub together to make a stink,, hmmmm

[jonathanbyersphd]

And on the real, the reason they want Nancy to end up with Steve is because they view her as a trophy and hate the idea of Jonathan being "rewarded" for his "bad behavior" of not having his entire life together at *checks notes* 18

[kalied0skull]

Steve btw

head in hands over this/vpos

[queenofshenanigans]

🐉 Dustin is such a scamp

He gets worse (better?). I love him! (Tag is here)

"Dude, is he bigger than he was like, five minutes ago?" Steve asked, because yeah. He was pretty sure five minutes ago Dustin had been the size of a very large house cat, and now his head came halfway up the door frame as he headed into the hallway. He had to shimmy to get his wings through, tucking them close to his body. "That can't be good!" "Nothing about this is good, Harrington," Eddie said, sounding as freaked as Steve felt. Dustin was trailing golden sparkles in his wake, and as Steve followed he saw that they were tiny scales, shedding as Dustigon rubbed his body against the walls. "He's molting!" "Is that something dragons do?" "Dragons aren't real, Steve!"