#doctorhelena asked

[invidiosa]

the wonderful @doctorhelena tagged me to explain how I picked my URL.

Many many many years ago when I joined the XF fandom and started posting fics, I needed a penname, so I chose Circe Invidiosa which is the title of a JW Waterhouse painting and my user icon there. It roughly translates to "envious Circe". There was already a Circe in the fandom who didn't post fics but was very active with commentary so I always used the "Invidiosa" part to distinguish myself. And it stuck because I decided my fic site would be called invidiosa as well and I still have the site to this day. When I started posting fics for a different fandom, i used a variation of invidiosa and started calling myself Invida (which is my main user name on AO3 and my pseud is Circe Invidiosa) because I thought I needed keep the fandoms separate. But when I joined tumblr I decided I'd just get back to basics with Invidiosa. And there we are.

Tagging @lilydalexf, @thatgirlnevershutsup, @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week, @51kas81, @leucocrystal, @typingtess, @fairweathermyth, @bowiecadmium and anyone who wants to tell us about their usernames.

[usersusanstorm]

Hey, I'm your Steggy Secret Santa this year! I just wanted to let you know, in case the Tumblr notification gets lost, that I've posted your gift!

Wishing you and your loved ones a wonderful holiday season. ❤️

https://www.tumblr.com/doctorhelena/770771436980879360/they-dont-always-ask-the-band-to-play-something?source=share

i just saw it thank you so much!! i love it! i appreciate it so much! omg omg omg!

[roboticonography]

Surprise, @doctorhelena ! I'm your Steggy Secret Santa!

The story I'm working on for you isn't quite finished, but I didn't want to leave you without a gift, so I decided to pay tribute to one item on your wish list that particularly amused me. Thanks for being a great friend, fellow Keeper of Obscure Canadian Culture Facts, and co-founder of the Overthinkers Club. ❤️

(And a special thank you to @buckywiththegoodhair86 - I asked her to behave in a suspicious manner that would lead you to believe she was making your gift, for a bit of extra fun.)

Based on this poster design for the film Psycho.

[theawkwardterrier]

WIP Sunday

Tagged so very kindly by my wonderful meme bestie @lavellenchanted 🥰🥰 Here's a bit of the OL fic that I've been working on and that I'm mad about working on!

“Now that we’ve established my credentials, are you comfortable removing your shirt, soldier?” she asks, finding it easy to fall into the manner of address that saw her so well through the war. He lifts an eyebrow at the term, but doesn’t comment. “Aye, I trust my tender self to yer ministrations, Mistress, if that’s what ye mean. But I might need a bit o’ help with my shirt.” His good hand gestures to his opposite shoulder, and his smile is fading along with the light which had entered his eyes. There are plenty of patients she’s had who would have done better with a response that was stern and reminded him that he didn’t need mollycoddling, or with joking about to chivvy him from the mood he was sinking into. But some instinct, beyond the knowledge that she has built from experience, makes her do something else entirely. “Take your time,” she says gently. “I’ll help where it’s needed.” He does manage to bare himself most of the way, and not altogether terribly slowly. The trouble comes, as they both knew it would, with his injured arm. His mobility is such that he cannot twist his arm to reach up and remove that sleeve; perhaps at night he shakes it off, or has a comrade who will help him, but he doesn’t seem interested in putting himself on display in that way, and she doesn’t want him to. Instead, as he stops with the shirt draped over half his body, she makes her way around him, making certain that he can hear her movements, that she touches him gently along the back of his neck first so he can sense where she will be aiming next since she isn’t certain whether he has full feeling in his shoulder and doesn’t want to startle him. She doesn’t say anything as she eases the sleeve away from his skin, no small talk or even evaluatory questions, nothing about his shoulder or the deep scarring that she finds across his back. Jamie, however, speaks without her having to ask. It’s a terrible story, despite the calm with which he tells it: a Redcoat captain, an attack on Jamie’s sister, a crowd which watched him being viciously whipped for crimes that he hadn’t committed — including his father, who died thinking that his son had died first, and in such pain. During the war, she saw other nurses grow attached to patients, staying at a certain bedside hours after their shift had ended, singing a favorite song to dull the pain, even placing a kiss on lips breathing their last. Nothing close ever happened to her; not, she thinks now, necessarily because of Frank, but because she was better able to wall herself off and keep from true connection with the soldiers and partisans and innocent civilians who she treated…or maybe because none of them was the right one. For a barely-breathing moment, she can imagine bending and laying her cheek against the scars, letting him know that while she might have not been there to heal him then, she is here now. Beneath layers of fabric and padding, her stomach rumbles — only hunger, to be certain, signaling the hours since she finished the last of Nan’s bannocks in the cart, but a reminder of the care that she needs to take now. No foolish mistakes, not when she isn’t only protecting herself. “And how did this come about?” she asks, placing a delicate finger on the raised arch of his shoulder joint. As much as she is striving to bring herself back to that vaunted professionalism, her voice is still soft.

Tagging my buds @flyinghome-againstthewind, @smashing-teacups, @frasers-of-my-heart, and @doctorhelena, plus anyone else who wants to share some WIP fun!

[doctorhelena]

doctorhelena's 2024 fanfic/fanart roundup

It’s that time of year again! Here is my annual fanfic/fanart roundup. (And here are the 2018,  2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023 versions!)

This year I posted:

4 different stories, with a total of 71,346 words (more than usual, and including my first ever AU of the "they have totally different lives and jobs" type!) 

10 different pieces of fanart (including two that were actually several separate drawings grouped together)

1 piece of fancraft (a cross-stitch version of someone else's fanart!)

Fanfic:

1. If You Could Read My Mind  (Peggy Carter / Steve Rogers) - 14,986 words A mix-up with one of Howard's spy lipsticks leads to Peggy and Steve spending an unexpectedly candid evening at home.

2. Not For A Million Bucks  (Peggy Carter / Steve Rogers) - 4234 words Jack Thompson didn't particularly want a front row seat to this show, but oh boy, he's sure got one.

3. A Stutter in Time, chapter 18 (Peggy Carter / Steve Rogers) - 5298 words (in this chapter) 1945 Peggy Carter appears in Tony Stark’s lab, and immediately throws a wrench into everything.

4. Teach My Feet To Fly  (Peggy Carter / Steve Rogers) - 44,574 words Peggy Carter, a world class ice hockey player learning to figure skate as part of a Canadian reality show, has an iron-clad rule about never, ever dating a teammate. Which means that she'll simply have to get over the ridiculous attraction she has to her new figure skating partner, Steve Rogers.

Fanart:

1. "Hey Peg, did you tell the kids they could use my shield?" (Steggy) Sledding is more fun on a vibranium shield.

2. Tobogganing (Steggy) The whole Rogers-Carter family goes sledding (on a regular sled this time!)

3. "There was a movie?" "It was a musical." (Peggy Carter) Captain Carter's version of "The Star-Spangled Man With a Plan".

4. "Oh, for God’s sake, Cap. Just stop talking. And kiss me again." (PeggyNat) Peggy and Natasha stealing a kiss on a mission.

5. "Steve, this dog is not going to move." (Steggy) They only need the one bed, but there is still a problem.

6. (From the Notebook of Captain S.G. Rogers, U.S. Army, 1945) (Steggy) Headcanon: Steve’s notebook has a lot of sketches of Peggy sleeping in weird places.

7.  Cover art for "Teach My Feet to Fly" (Steggy) I never posted this on its own without being attached to the story, but I did draw it!

8. What If... Fondue? (Steggy) Hydra Stomper Steve flies Captain Carter to Lucerne for a late-night fondue.

9. The Carter Family (Steggy) "Well, she works long, strange hours And he's got secret powers Before them, Hydra cowers: The Carter family!"

10. They don't always ask the band to play something slow. (Steggy) Peggy and Steve and a lively dance (under the mistletoe).

Other:

1. Stardew Steggy Cross-Stitch (Steggy) I made a cross-stitch of @roboticonography's adorable Stardew Steggy pixel art!

[themculibrary]

Steve and Peggy (Steggy) Masterlist 3

part one, part two

Ain't Love a Kick (ao3) - roboticonography M, 33k

Summary: Steve wakes up after the crash to find his life has changed dramatically - the main change being, he's married to Peggy Carter.

A Lot of Issues (ao3) - linascribbles T, 66k

Summary: Peggy Carter is a Fashion Editor at Sakaar magazine. She’s used to juggling egos, drama queens and ridiculous assignments from her boss all the time. She's even used to dealing with gorgeous six foot blonds on the regular. But none of that really prepeared her for Steve Rogers, his fumbling charm, or the gorgeous way he blushes.

Steve Rogers is a graphic designer who only models to make ends meet. New York is the perfect city for that, but just as NYC's fashion word is prolific, it is also... bizarre. In his line of work Steve's gotten used to losing significant chunks of his dignity quite often (He has a photo album about it, lovingly curated by the one and only Bucky Barnes), but maybe, just this once, he could avoid making a mess of himself in front of that beautiful model on this shoot. No such luck.

Certain I'm Yours (ao3) - Spacecadet72 G, 1k

Summary: Steve wasn’t suspicious, at first.

The Howling Commandos are less than subtle in their attempts to matchmake Peggy and Steve using a gift exchange.

church bells ring, carry me home (ao3) - mybestgirl T, 18k

Summary: A how-to guide on getting Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter married: step one, bachelor party. Step two, wedding. Step three, honeymoon.

Coffee Talk (ao3) - indiefic G, 1k

Summary: Jack Thompson is sick of Peggy Carter thinking she can do whatever she wants.

Don't Miss a Moment (ao3) - agentofvalue T, 40k

Summary: The war has been over for years. After five years, Steve even came back from the dead. Peggy married him and that should be the happily ever after. But, they are still Captain America and Agent Carter. With them, nothing ever goes according to plan. Not even impending parenthood.

I Just Keep Falling For You (ao3) - BuckyWithTheGoodHair86 G, 10k

Summary: Steve is starting to make a habit out of unexpected falls and sticky situations. Fortunately, Peggy always arrives in time to get him out.

In Bourbon Veritas (ao3) - doctorhelena T, 3k

Summary: There were actually two beds. Peggy just didn’t seem interested in getting in the other one.

International Incident (ao3) - linascribbles E, 112k

Summary: Peggy Carter rose through the diplomatic ranks in the midst of the Incident and in her short career already stablished herself as a skilled and well-connected negotiator. Stationed in the Washington DC embassy, she's right on the front lines of the fallout of Project Insight. Governments get purged, new and unexpected doors open, and Peggy Carter is nothing if not resourceful.

As she gets plunged into a world of spies, mad scientists and superheroes, familiar faces start to pop up. Particularly one pesky Captain America, who seems to have no idea what international law entails and considers country borders mere suggestions.

in the heat of battle (ao3) - littlereyofsunlight M, 42k

Summary: “After this is over,”—and wasn’t that everyone’s favorite pastime, here in relative safety, playing After the War as though one could even pretend to make plans for a life, as though this blasted conflict hasn’t already completely changed everything in this world, forever—

Peggy Carter has always been a fighter.

Just In Case (ao3) - captaindoritoes G, 2k

Summary: Hope you enjoy this a bit of angst, a bit of comfort fanfic - four times Steve and Peggy share a kiss, just in case it’s their last one. Their love language is touch - in this essay I will -

Letting Agent Carter In (ao3) - cadkitten E, 4k

Summary: Steve is still learning to draw the human form and when he finds the perfect solution in his head, he's not sure he can actually ask for it in person. But he'll be damned if he won't give it a try.

Pin Curls (ao3) - SomewhereApart T, 3k

Summary: Peggy Carter has imagined how she’d feel at the return of Steve Rogers a hundred different times. Still, she's unprepared for the reality of him, standing on her porch on a Sunday afternoon.

She Wanted (ao3) - TriplePirouette E, 3k

Summary: Peggy wants to eat Skinny Steve alive.

The Shops on Shield Street (ao3) - fluffernutter8 G, 5k

Summary: Running a small business is already hard enough without someone trying to sabotage things.

Time and Again (ao3) - Beshter N/R, 163k

Summary: When an insane man who claims he can travel through time appears out of nowhere, Peggy Carter agrees to go with him to save the world, little expecting the strange new life she'd be stepping into on the other side.

We Still Talk (ao3) - roboticonography M, 9k

Summary: Newlyweds Steve and Peggy take a holiday to get away from it all - but the great outdoors might hold more challenges than they bargained for!

we were born to be national treasures (ao3) - meidui G, 1k

Summary: “I’m back,” he chokes out artlessly into her shoulder, into the soft dark waves of her hair and the spiced floral of her perfume. He stopped believing he would ever get to go home after the war a long time ago, or that there would ever be an after the war for him, but—

“Right on time,” Peggy whispers, her voice shaking, and Steve’s next breath breaks on a sob.

Where poppies grow (ao3) - beautifulwhensarcastic T, 1k

Summary: The night preceding the procedure Steve can't sleep, which leads him to a surprising, touching discovery.

you can count on me (ao3) - sokovianaccords (thesokovianaccords) N/R, 5k

Summary: A Christmas mission for Agent Rogers and Agent Carter brings some things to light

[beautifulwhensarcastic]

“Break!” Peggy declared, stopping mid step. 

Steve, a step or two in front of her, halted immediately. He turned to her, a quick scan of her whole body to make sure there was no need to worry.

Peggy was bent over, hands on her knees and her breath slightly wheezing. Otherwise she seemed fine; if perhaps a little disheveled, but that was mostly due to the wind that lashed at their faces as they ran down the hill. 

“Everything okay?” Steve asked, walking back to her. 

“Yes, perfectly fine.” Peggy answered, still out of breath. 

After a moment, she straightened. Her face was flushed - exertion and wind to blame for that. A few ringlets of her hair escaped the tight ponytail, sticking out in various directions, some stuck to her sweaty forehead.

To Steve she looked beautiful, as always. 

“Turn around.” Peggy pointed at Steve with her index finger and made a circular motion. 

“Why?” Steve’s eyebrows drew in confusion, at the same time he turned his back to her, peeking at Peggy over his shoulder as she stepped closer. “Do I have something on my back?” 

“Not yet.” He thought he heard a chuckle in Peggy’s voice.

A second later and she jumped up, bracing her hands on Steve’s shoulders and wrapping her legs around his hips. 

On instinct, Steve quickly reached back, hands gripping Peggy’s thighs and helping her secure her weight on his back. She squeezed his sides with her thighs and propped herself up. 

“We can go now.” She announced, pressing her cheek to Steve’s. 

“We were supposed to be jogging.” Steve snorted. 

He changed his hold on her thighs, making it easier for the both of them to carry her weight. Though for Steve it made little difference. He could carry Peggy in any position. He’d carry her to the top of the world, if she asked him to. 

Which he told her one evening, when he was feeling extra sappy as they laid in the little backyard behind their house, cuddling on a blanket and stargazing. 

Peggy laughed then and brushed a kiss on his jaw. She said they have enough adventures in their lives and she’d rather have him hold her against a wall when they feel impatiently needy. 

“You wanted to go jogging.” Peggy corrected Steve. “I decided I want a doughnut.” 

“Which we were supposed to get at the end of our run.” He pointed out. 

“So you better end your run quickly, because I really want that doughnut.” 

Steve shook his head and chuckled. He didn’t break into a run, though he could do it even with Peggy clinging to him like a monkey. He set a brisk pace, but limited it to walking. 

“Instead of promises of carrying you to the top of the world, I should simply vow to take you to any bakery you wish.” He joked, grinning at the elder couple they were passing, who had to hear part of their conversation because they exchanged knowing looks. 

“That’s why I married you.” Peggy tightened her hold around Steve’s shoulder and pecked a sweet kiss to his neck. 

“And the guys were warning me about the dangers of never satisfying a wife. Idiots.” 

“Well, things may get dangerous if you don’t get me that doughnut

 a little gift for @doctorhelena for finishing her workout challenge 💪💞

[captainjimothycarter]

What's the difference between taking inspiration from someone's fan art (aka copying the sketch/style/color scheme, etc.) and tracing the fan art and recoloring it?

Where do you draw the line (pun intended) in not just being someone who copies fan art?

Hey, buddy, thanks for the question. It's not often I get asked questions regarding fan art!

Tho, I am afraid I don't think I am the right person to answer this question. I don't think I have enough experience/knowledge to throw in my two cents.

If anyone else can answer for nonny, that be great! I'm tagging @geekynerddemon, @roboticonography, @doctorhelena, & @dirtydoctorwho, and anyone else that can answer.

(Yall were the ones who popped in my head who might be able to throw in their two cents, lol)

[founderofshield]

For the WIP title game: Every Christmas

Oooh this one is a cute (yet a bit angsty) idea I had for a Christmas rom com type of au. It’s actually almost entirely scripted but I think I need to be in a Christmas mood to write it.

Basically Steve and Peggy keep on meeting on Christmas Day year after year before they actually act on it.

[teaandatale]

Fanfic asks: 5, 6, 14

5. What’s a crackship you love?

You know, for being around fic as long as I have you would think I’d at least be able to properly define this, but I had to look it up LOL. Hmm… I don’t think I have any tbh, BUT in reading more let’s go with Wonder Woman/Xena because that would be fun to see!

6. What’s the last thing you read that made you laugh?

I’m way behind on reading Steggy Secret Santa fics, but the last one I read full is actually your preview for Comfort and Joy. The whole Howlies showing up seeing a disheveled Steve and Peggy and then having to go on hardly saying nothing because they know Peggy would deck them… A+ right there :D

14. (For authors) Post a line of dialogue from one of your WIPs without context.

“You look good, darling,” he tells her as they share a nightcap of whiskey, just the two Carter siblings in the den, and Michael’s son snuggled up between them. “You seem happy.”

[littlereyofsunlight]

Bookish asks: 5, 10, 13

You picked some popular questions, friend!

5. @theawkwardterrier asked this one first. Answer here.

10. @theawkwardterrier​ also asked this one first. Answer here.

13. @ckerouac asked this one first. Answer here.

Bookish asks

[invidiosa]

Get to know you meme

I was tagged by the lovely and patient @doctorhelena and I've been tagged in similar memes by @randomfoggytiger and @steggyisimmortal (sorry it took so long everyone!)

last song: Homesick by Noah Kahan

currently watching: Silent Witness S10 (not entirely sure I like it but there are a lot of episodes so it's good for background watching), Resident Alien, rewatching Toast of Tinseltown, Mystery Files

three ships: currently: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls, tie between Alex Hardy and Ellie Miller or Duncan Hunter/Jimmy Perez (depending which moody detective show appeals to me most any given day)

favorite color: Blue

currently consuming: Tea (it has gone cold but I can't be bothered to get up and make more)

first ship: probably Laura Holt/Remington Steele (me = ooooollllldd)

relationship status: married

last movie: Barbie

currently working on: am I currently working on WIPs if I haven't written anything? I'm thinking about them, but mostly about how I haven't written anything for them. So nothing?

Tagging: @lilydalexf, @lemonistas, @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week, @rozf, @leucocrystal, @agent-troi, @thatgirlnevershutsup

[lotsofthinkythoughts]

I posted 2,702 times in 2022

15 posts created (1%)

2,687 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gingerteaonthetardis

@saecookie

@doctorhelena

@deardiary17

@lavellenchanted

I tagged 2,685 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#lotr - 261 posts

#fanart - 232 posts

#art - 158 posts

#lol - 142 posts

#peggy carter - 117 posts

#dragon age - 85 posts

#steve x peggy - 80 posts

#pride and prejudice - 77 posts

#embroidery - 73 posts

#cross-stitch - 61 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#but i am gonna say they’re robbing a generation of repressed bisexual girls an ‘oh’ moment as they crush on the most pretty boys in a show

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

📓 for the ask game. doctor x rose (your choice as to which doctor)

Welp in addition to the ones I mentioned in the last answer, There's just... SO MANY Eight/Rose AUs. Just like... terminal brainrot levels of EightRose in my brain.

So how about the one I did ... sort of start writing but never got far with it; A College AU where she was a child star and he's a return student both studying in the same theater program. This got long, so under the cut it goes!

They meet for the first time at open auditions for the term, and they start talking there, and realize they have a class in common when they see each other the next week.

There's two plot threads really, Rose and her attempt at Normalcy and escaping the assumptions of childhood stardom as she's also trying to reset her mind before pursuing more serious roles. And Eight (John, because I'm lame) and his really shitty political family and their expectations and how they constantly have made him put aside his own desires for his life and the consequences for his decision to break away.

One of those consequences is the fact that after awhile, when his rent goes up, he doesn't really have the funds to stay there anymore. But, luckily he and Rose are friends, and she has a spare room, even though her apartment isn't THAT big. So now, they're roommates.

Insert just... so much 'oh my god they were roommates' and romantic pining content here. There's also a lot of hanging out with their friends, even though they're some of the only non-trad students in their friend group. (Also there's guitar playing and music because I'm a sap and that's just a thing I like)

Then former colleague Jack shows up to visit Rose and being mildly drunk when he shows up in the bar, she's like 'you don't have to go to a hotel, you can stay at my place!' because she's just... like that. And five minutes later she's like 'shit, I don't actually have a spare room anymore' and is apologizing to John and proposes that they share for the day or two Jack's around. It... more or less becomes him just moving into her bedroom because they like cuddling. And each other.

Long story short, the pining reaches terminal levels but they don't want to ruin their relationship, but at that point they're on the road to actually getting together. Rose has, slowly over the course of the story to this point, let go of her discomfort with her childhood stardom and the way some of the professors and other students act around her, so that leaves John's family plot to wrap up, so for MAXIMUM DRAMA, his brother's political campaign wants family shots and video for promotional purposes.

His parents more or less demand he comes home for this, and John invites Rose to come along. His family is not happy about him doing that, but John and Rose decide that fuck it, they love each other, they're gonna be there for each other no matter what, no matter the cameras, no matter the family dynamics they're born into, they get to choose and they choose each other.

Then they go back to the apartment, and live happily ever after. lol. (Also the whole thing totally ends with them having an onstage kiss in a play with just.)

3 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#4

📚 for Doctor Who ✨

Oh god, there are so many. The Rose-Dimension-Hops-into-the-Time-War fic, the I'm-trash-and-watching-Classic-Who-and-inserting-Rose 'fic' (there is no plot, it's just me wanting Rose and all the companions to be friends lol), the whole CharlEightRose universe. Let me see if I can sift through everything for one that's not... a whole damn cinematic universe in my brain XD.

Oh, man, I had a concept once upon a time of a Nine/Rose epistolary fic, that started life as a supernatural AU where he was like a historical astronomer, but that over the years kinda morphed in my brain just into a more... 'the TARDIS thinks Nine needs a penpal' kind of deal in his wanderings pre-Rose.

And it's just... them writing to each other in 'magic' journals. I still don't know why the journals are magic, it's just a suspension of disbelief point for the concept. But anyway, they write messages to each other, back and forth, in this journal, just... talking about life and the places they go/want to go, Rose talks about how shambles she feels her life is because of her terrible boyfriend (then, eventually, ex-boyfriend) and he just... talks about the places and people he sees.

The whole thing comes to a head when they run out of pages - they're down to the last pages and there's a final message, and then like... the next month he lands on Earth and Whoops, there's Auton's in the shops. Time to save the world. And accidentally meet his penpal lol.

(In the original concept there was unexplained time travel at the end, so I think that's why it ended up morphing in my brain, because like... if he's gonna time travel anyway, he might as well just... be a time traveler.)

3 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#3

this probably isn't meant for me to answer but 🐹💗 like i credit myself with a decent imagination but i can't bring myself to imagine being intimidated by you because you're so kind and silly and great to be friends with

I just thought it was a cute little ask meme so it’s for whoever wanted to answer.

I don’t see myself as intimidating at all, so like I agree lol. Thanks dear ❤️!

4 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

#2

Okay hi friends. I have not said anything on here, but I’ve been doing NaNo this year. And I have... for the first time ever a) gotten ahead and b) passed 10k.

I usually fail so hard at NaNo, and even if I don’t make 50k this year, I am so damn proud of myself.

That is all, carry on scrolling friends.

11 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Dear god, it’s the year 2022 and I have spent the whole day coming up with Tolkien-verse OCs because of the Peter Jackson films.

Teenage me is still alive and well apparently and she killed cringe culture lol.

17 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[roboticonography]

robot iconography: the origin story

I was tagged by @buckywiththegoodhair86, @doctorhelena, and @cafecitowriter to explain how I picked my username.

Once upon a time, I won a bottle of Ballantine's in a raffle at an office party. I was enjoying my winnings that evening when I decided to responding to an email that I'd long been putting off: my mom, asking what I would like for Christmas that year.

I wrote a long and rambling reply about all the things I liked, and included the line “I am passionate about robots and robot iconography.” Which, while it was as true then as it is today, was probably not helpful in terms of suggesting a Christmas present.

I can't remember what she actually got me. I think it might have been a duvet cover (without robots on it, sadly).

Some time later, I was trying to think of a name to post my Iron Man fanfics under, the phrase floated up from the depths of my memory, and seemed appropriate. So here I am.

If you haven't, and would like to be, please consider yourself tagged. 😁

[theawkwardterrier]

heads up 7 up

Tagged by: @flyinghome-againstthewind - thanks, Anna!!

no-pressure tagging: @doctorhelena, @captainjimothycarter, @walkinginland (although I know you've already been tagged!), and of course my meme buddy @lavellenchanted

rules: post seven sentences from one of your WIPs 

From the thing that I am still pretending not to be actively working on:

Although he had been quiet as promised reentering their bedroom that first night, she had somehow sensed him, rolling over as he stood watching her for a moment. She blinked, gaze flicking to the clock on his nightstand. "A bit longer than your paperwork usually takes," she had commented. Her eyes still had the touch of sleepiness to them, but her voice was as clear and wakeful as if it was midafternoon; he can't quite remember how long she's had that ability, whether it's the traveler about her or the doctor or the mother. "He asked me to have a game o' chess wi' him," Jamie had told her, the warring joy and grief giving his own voice a hoarse edge. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, feeling not embarrassed but perhaps a bit foolish as tears came to his eyes. "I was startin' to wonder if he'd ever actually wish to know me at all, or if I'd only be able to watch him about the house and hoard bits o' him from afar."

[3pirouette]

Fic: Nobody's Baby: In Full Color (1/1)

Title: In Full Color

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Part of the Nobody’s Baby Universe

Story Summary: Peggy hadn’t been prepared for just what, exactly, was going to happen.

A/N: For Steggy Week 2k22: Domestic Bliss.

Fits in before the epilogue of Nobody’s Baby, somewhere before Baby Steps, right around the time of Sandy baby but after Chapter 24.

This is 100% inspired by the fact that for the last 6 weeks my bedroom/the second floor of my house has held little more than a bed, with my clothes and all my belongings in a horrible jumble two floors down due to getting a new floor, renovating an old ceiling, and waiting for fresh paint and other odds and ends to be done. There is nothing more domestic, and more frustrating, than home improvements and renovations.

Also, sorry it’s late. I’ve been trying like a fiend to get the renovations done. Thankfully, the amazing @doctorhelena pointed out that being late is kinda Steve and Peggy’s thing, making me feel 1000% better about the situation.

~*~

Peggy hadn’t been prepared for just what, exactly, was going to happen.

Not really, anyway.

The house was bigger than she’d initially wanted, but Steve had talked her into it. He’d held her and Mandy close and pointed to the little ramshackle shed in the back and waxed poetic about fixing it up, putting in a little garden, him mowing the lawn and her sitting on the back porch watching with a cup of tea as Mandy played on the swing he could see hanging from the tree just at the edge of the property. He’d sighed with a dreamy look in his bright blue eyes as he alluded to what they might do with the extra bedrooms someday.

She’d caved. Easily.

Like so many things now, she found herself wanting more things she’d never dreamed of for her life, things she’d never imagined wanting until she met him. A large, warm house with a fireplace and a swing from the tree in the back was just another of the things on her mental list that surprised her.

When they’d moved in, it had been easy: they had frightfully little of their own in that government apartment, and even though they’d managed to acquire what they’d needed day to day, they’d barely had enough to fill up Dugan’s truck for one trip when he came to help move them out.

Months had passed, though, and they’d settled into the house and a routine, acquiring bits and pieces that suddenly made the house feel like a home and running after Mandy as she crawled along, shielding her head as she bounced around, trying to figure out how to stand.

Which was why, eight months after they moved in, Steve insisted on painting. They’d been far too preoccupied with getting Mandy everything she needed while baby proofing any low and sharp corners, with finding their places in the new ranks of the SSR as Phillips tried to clean house as the war ended, to try to do anything about the stark white walls throughout the house before then. But one day she’d found him in the kitchen, pouring over little streaks of paint over the sink, asking Mandy quietly which one she liked the best as she babbled nonsense back to him while he pretended to take her nonsense as serious as a mission from Phillips.

She’d been unable to say no, both because she detested the way the clinical white sometimes reminded her of that horrible room they’d spent days in under the eyes of horrid doctors, and because he’d been far too excited about his plans to deny him anything.

The kitchen hadn’t taken much, they’d just avoided cooking for a day and were graciously fed a lovely dinner by Edwin and Ana while the charming, sunny yellow dried.

The living room was a muted blue, one that was neutral and matched the small mishmash of furniture they had acquired. Keeping Mandy out of it while Steve painted had been a challenge as she tried to scoot, crawl, and attempt to toddle her way away from Peggy every time she thought she was content on the floor and turned back to her work at the kitchen table. There was still one little perfect handprint from where Mandy had tried to stand, holding on to the wet wall right at the base of the stairs before Peggy grabbed her, that they both agreed would be a shame to paint over.

The front entry way was done while she was in the office with Howard one day, the only sign that anything had gone awry was the echo of the warm beige color in the beds of Mandy’s fingernails and Steve’s suspicious smile over dinner.

No, it was the upstairs she’d been unprepared for: the bedrooms.

She’d known it was coming. He’d been amassing brightly colored paints in little cans in the basement for weeks, mumbling to himself, measuring the bedrooms and the office, and staring at the walls with a look in his eyes that she knew meant trouble. When Phillips called, though, she didn’t have the luxury of asking him if he planned on painting while she packed her bag in a rush to try to catch the last train to Washington DC.

She’d come home three days later at nearly two in the morning to pandemonium.

He’d moved everything they’d owned, everything, from the whole floor. He and Mandy were sleeping in the living room when Peggy slipped in the door, her crib right next to the couch in the maze of dressers and side tables and piles of clothes.

He’d immediately blushed and brought their bed up the stairs, laying the mattress on the floor with a puddle of blankets in the middle and apologized that he thought the frame was under the couch where it wasn’t exactly accessible at the moment unless they wanted to wake Mandy. He showed her their room: a dark royal blue with bright white woodwork and fillagree hand painted around the border at the ceiling. She’d smiled, kissed him, and promptly fell asleep still in most of her clothes.

Even though it looked just as beautiful, if not more so this morning, she was at a loss and having a hard time keeping her temper. Not a single thing was where she could find it. Her robe had been hanging on her vanity, which was stuffed in the front corner of the living room. She’d had to climb over their bedside table (where she’d subsequently found her slippers shoved in a drawer by luck as she’d tried to move it) just to get it.

Steve had also cleared out their bathroom, which was now a bright inverse of their bedroom, with white paint and white tiles highlighted by dark blue accents, which meant she’d had to hunt down bath towels (in the filing cabinet from the upstairs office which was now next to the stove, obviously) her toiletries (in the dish drainer in the kitchen, of course) and a new toilet roll because the existing one had a large glob of blue paint glueing half of it together (surprisingly, where it was supposed to be, in the downstairs hall closet).

She’d managed to calm herself in the shower, relishing in the clean scent of new paint and the higher pressure of the shower head as compared to the musty barracks with communal showers she’d stayed in while in DC.  By the time she’s stepped out and wrapped herself and her hair up in the fresh towels that somehow still smelled just a bit of typewriter ink, she’d almost forgotten why she was frustrated.

That was, until she looked at the sink where her moisturizer would usually be, then stepped into the bedroom and saw the empty space where her vanity and make-up and hair brush would be, and then turned her head and looked at the empty closet and bare space where the dresser would be, and it all came rushing back.

Traipsing through their living room that was bursting with nearly four other rooms of furniture, while not waking Mandy who was still somehow sleeping peacefully in the middle of the maze in her crib, was quite a bit more difficult in her robe and slippers with a towel wrapped in her hair than it had been in her pajamas.

The night before Steve had made it seem easy. His photographic memory knew each and every odd place he’d stored their things to save space: he’d produced her pajamas from the desk drawer and pulled diapers from a bag buried between stacks of shoes when Mandy woke and needed to be changed before he brought up the bed. He knew each and every little space to step in like he’d mapped it out in his brain, and those steps were made to fit his long-legged frame much better than they fit her size.

She nearly tripped when stepping around his old Army duffel to grab the armoire, and froze, hoping she hadn’t woken Mandy. The baby made a high-pitched sigh, but rolled and snuggled back down to Peggy’s relief.

He’d taken the drawers out when he moved the furniture, and stacked some of them in corners and put some of them back before pushing other pieces of furniture in to block them. In theory, she knew exactly where all the pieces of clothing she wanted should be, but after a half hour of looking, and with only a blouse to show for it, she gave up and instead looked over to try to pick her way through the maze to where her daughter was fussing.

Peggy carefully picked her way, baby in tow, to the changing table, and with one hand on Mandy and one very precariously placed foot, she managed the herculean reach to the diapers that Steve had somehow made seem like inches, though not without losing the towel she’d had wrapped around her under her robe in a puddle around her ankles first.

Mandy seemed to think this was hilarious. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” Peggy chuckled in a way that left no room for argument that she was absolutely not amused, however Mandy was far too young to understand that level of sarcasm and laughed louder. “Oh, he’ll pay, my love,” she muttered, dodging a swift little foot as she tried to reach the powder and pins. “He will wish Phillips kept me longer.”

She dressed Mandy, a balancing act for the ages, and set the girl on her hip, muttering as she picked her way through the maze to the bottom of the stairs. “Steven Grant Rogers,” she called in a voice she only ever reserved for the battlefield until today.

He was before her like a shot, standing at the top of the steps, paintbrush still in hand and eyes very much concerned. “Peggy?”

“This is absolutely unacceptable. I simply cannot find a thing. How did you manage to do this?”

Her eyebrows knit as his expression relaxed, nearly amused with her, as he busied himself with rolling the paintbrush so it wouldn’t drip on the floor below. “I’ll be done today, Peg, I promise.” He shrugged, wiping his hand across his white undershirt and leaving a bright blue stain. “I tried to move all the furniture fast while she was napping so I didn’t think much about where I put things, especially since I thought you’d be home after it was all put back.”

She huffed, bouncing Mandy a bit. “Well, I’m home now and I can’t live like this, Steve!”

“Peg,” he started, dashing away as he continued speaking to put the paint brush back in Mandy’s room before he lost control of the drips, “it’s just a little mess, I’ll—”

“This isn’t funny! I can’t find my knickers!” Peggy huffed, setting her hand on her hip and letting Mandy down to sit at her feet. “Is that what you want?” Steve started to smile, and she promptly scowled, crossing her arms over her chest and pulling her robe closed tighter. “Don’t answer that.”

Steve slowly moved down the stairs, a small smile on his face. He stopped at the last step and dropped a careful kiss on her hairline, aware that she was very angry. “You know exactly what I’d want, Peg,” he whispered, his voice both amused and suggestive.  He pushed past her, wiping his hands and the remaining wet paint on his sweatpants. “What do you need?” he asked gently.

“Knickers, for a start,” she tried to maintain her anger, but felt it fade a bit as he started picking his way through the mess. “And a brassiere. I found a shirt, so just trousers will do for now.” She sat on the bottom step, running a hand through Mandy’s hair, watching as he patiently put together a stack of the things he knew she liked to wear around the house. “And the things from my vanity, if you don’t mind,” she muttered.

Steve picked his way back to her and set the pile in her hands. “All the things from your vanity are in the cupboard in the kitchen that was empty next to the sink. I put them there so they wouldn’t break by accident.” She felt her heart melt just a little more, and found the anger even harder to hold on to when he pecked her on the head again before bounding up the stairs. “When you’re dressed come up and take a look at Mandy’s room, alright?”

She looked down at her daughter, her chubby hand waving in a pulsating fist as Steve disappeared up the stairs. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know. I know.” Peggy took a look around, and seeing all the shades were drawn dressed herself right there at the base of the stairs, tossing her towel and robe over the rail. “Come along,” she muttered, picking the girl up and setting her back on her hip. “We’ll ask Daddy to watch you while I do something with my hair for a few minutes, shall we?”

She didn’t even get all the way into the room before she heard Steve’s reply. “Yeah, I’ll take her, just…” she heard the grunt of him moving. “Just give me a minute to clean this up, ok?”

She stopped in her tracks, staring at the walls. “Oh, Steve.”

He paused crouched on the floor, and looked up at her, smiling. “You like it?”

“Like it?” She smiled; every inch of frustration gone. “Steve, it’s brilliant.” The room was warm pinks and oranges and reds and purples, fading into light then heavy blues, all radiating from one wall where he’d pained a mural of a sunset over the ocean. “I love it.”

He stood, taking Mandy’s hand when she reached out to him, but didn’t lift the girl into his arms as he was still covered in paint. “I have this really vivid memory of this sunset from one of the nights we were on the ship. I just remember looking out and there was this… this.” He paused, mouth crinkling up as he tried to find a way to describe it. “I thought I should maybe do some rainbows, or flowers, or something just pretty and generic for her, but every time I sketched something out, it didn’t feel right.”

She moved away from him, walking around the edges of the empty room, admiring where he’d set hard lines at the horizon and the way he’d expertly blended the colors into soft, puffy clouds that led to the ceiling and how he’d managed to make it feel so real and organic. “This is gorgeous, Steve.” Her eyes drifted to the edge of the paint where there was just a corner and a wall still bright white, ready to be done.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have it cleaned up in a minute, ok?” He crouched back down and started pulling paint tins together and setting lids in place.

Peggy leaned down, putting her hand over his. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Peg, I…”

Peggy set Mandy down to crawl across the floor and took Steve’s hands in hers as she knelt next to him. “Don’t stop. I’m selfish and horrid and it was a horrible weekend full of red tape and Generals yelling at Senators, Senators yelling at me, and Phillips and I yelling right back.” She sighed, smiling when Steve pulled his hands away and plucked Mandy away from his paints and set her in his lap. “All I wanted when Jarvis dropped me off last night was to fall asleep in your arms then have a leisurely cup of tea this morning with the only person yelling at me being our daughter because she needed a nappy change.”

“Peg, I get that. I’ll clean this up in a jiff, you can get changed and I’ll put everything back—”

“No.” Peggy lifted Mandy from his lap. “No, you’re almost done and this is…” she sighed and looked around. “I was cranky and angry because I ended up falling asleep in my clothes and you were still on the couch last night.” She sighed, looking around. “This is beautiful. I’ll keep her occupied, you take as much time as you need, ok?”

“Well, let me at least—” Steve reached for Mandy and Peggy promptly side stepped around him, padding out of the room in her bare feet.

“No, darling.” She turned, smiling. “Paint. I’ll fix my own cup of tea and Mandy and I will be on the porch for a bit, yeah?”

Steve leaned in the doorway, face twisted up as he thought over the plan. “Alright, but only if you’re sure.”

“I am.” She turned away and then stopped. “Darling?”

He had moved to go back in the room and stopped, leaning back on the doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Can I just request that, perhaps, no matter what you do manage to get done, we can both sleep in our bed tonight? With the bed frame?”

He chuckled, leaning out to kiss her on the cheek. “It’ll be the first thing I bring up, ok?”

She smiled, pulling her wet hair from Mandy’s fist. “Sounds Perfect.”

Steve reached over, helping Peggy’s one handed struggle then combing his fingers through her hair to push it back into some semblance of a style. “Can I make a request?”

She smiled, letting her cheek nuzzle his hand. “Absolutely.”

“Can we leave the knickers downstairs?”

Peggy chuckled as she turned away from him. “Paint, may darling.”

“It’s an honest request!”

“I know,” she moved down the stairs her voice growing fainter.

He leaned out the doorframe. “I’m serious!”

“You’ll find out tonight, then, won’t you?”

He smiled, turning back to the paint. “Better get a move on, then.”