#favorite steggy fic quotes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

3pirouette · 3 years ago

Text

MERRY STEGGYMAS!!

I am so excited (and nervous) and HAPPY to finally reveal and start posting my Steggymas gift!

MERRY STEGGYMAS, @roboticonography!!

While I’m sorry I couldn’t get the whole thing done, here’s the Prologue and Chapter 1. More to follow ASAP this Holiday Season.

A Red, White, and Blue Christmas

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: White Christmas AU. Peggy is pulled from Project Rebirth, setting off a chain of events that leaves Steve and Bucky unharmed at the end of the War, but never having met her. Until, that is, their paths cross as professional performers. Steggy Secret Santa gift for Roboticonography

Story notes: Robot: I truly hope you like this. Your stories have given me hours and days and weeks of joy, and I hope this at least brings a smile to your face for this holiday season.

I’ve wanted to Steggy this for at least a year now, and based on everything you said, my brain screamed this was the right decision and the right time to write this. White Christmas is one of my favorite holiday movies, and I see so much Steggy potential in it. If you haven’t watched it, Danny Kaye makes it 100% worth the watch alone.

This is a fairly close retelling, with some scenes very close to the original, some very, very different, and of course the key things that make it Steggy making it Steggy. Some lines are flat out stolen and repurposed, because who can tell a Steggy story or a White Christmas story without some of our favorite quotes? There’s a lot… a LOT… of set up in the beginning of this. I hope you can get past some of the dryer parts to the fun stuff.

I’m also still writing it. The amount of time it has taken has really surprised me, but I want to get it right. I’m going to post now, because that seems the right thing to me, but I can’t promise I won’t have to go back and make little edits if I messed something up that’s important later.

Anyway, without further ado, here’s the beginning of my most ambitious Secret Santa fic ever. Merry Steggymas!

~*~

Prologue: A New Arrangement of a Classic (The Variant)

Chapter Summary: A brief trip through the war in this universe and a look at how all of our favorite moments somehow were different.

End Chapter A/N: I’m obsessed with this idea now. Peggy as a lounge singer is my new favorite thing.

~*~

Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away from her across camp, the red of her lips and the curve of her pale stocking legs stood out in the sea of drab, green uniforms. She was the Agent who had punched Hodge that first day, who’d been about to take them through their first training exercises before she was swept away and replaced with Sargent Stott. She was talking intently with Erskine, and Steve’s eyes followed her lips until he almost dropped the rifle he was supposed to be cleaning. They turned, moving closer to the little group of men until he could hear their conversation. Steve averted his eyes, pretending to be lost in concentration as he listened.

Erskine’s voice was deep and serious. “I wish you would stay. Your input would be invaluable. I find you to be a keen judge of character.”

“I do wish I could, doctor, but I’ve been recalled to London.” Steve looked up just in time to see her flash a blinding smile at the scientist. “You don’t need me to make the correct choice. I’d trust your judgement any day of the week.”

He’d been hoping to cross paths with her, to meet her, even though he had no idea what he’d say to her. He sighed, and focused back on his rifle. He wasn’t going to have time for pretty women if he made it into Erskine’s experiment, anyway.

~*~

Steve let the rain pour around him, sketching in his notebook. The next show wasn’t for a few hours, and the quiet anxiety of the front seemed so much bleaker than the small towns he was used to on tour. He’d grown to miss the roaring crowds in the US. There was something about the excitement of the kids in the audience, the smiles on the faces that seemed so dour on the street, that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he was making some sort of a difference even if it wasn’t out in the field.

The squishing of boots moving toward him caught his attention. Howard Stark stopped before him, just as massive a character as he was the day he pulled the levers that made Steve larger than life.

Stark smirked at him. “So, you want to be a dancing monkey all your life, or you want to see what you can really do?”

~*~

Peggy let her hand slide over the microphone, eyes roaming the dingy club as the piano played next to her, barely in tune.

As far as undercover jobs went, it certainly wasn’t the worst she’d ever had. It was away from the front, kept her warm and fed, and even if she didn’t get to keep the dresses and the stockings, it felt nice to feel fine clothes on her body again instead of the itchy, military wool.

She’d pulled a lucky break with this assignment, and she’d been able to get quite a lot of information out of the generals and donors who thought the pretty English girl who could sing and would sit on their laps when she was done couldn’t understand German.

She smiled as she started in on the chorus. One of these days, she’d get the piece of information that ended this war, and it would all be worth it.

And when that was over, maybe she’d sing for fun. She was starting to like it.

~*~

The Howling Commandos huddled around the fire for warmth, the snow falling around the small group of men. Dugan took a pull out of his flask. “So, what would you be doing tonight, if you were back home?”

Bucky leaned against his friend, nearly pushing Steve off the log. “Stevie’d be singing at midnight mass.”

Heads swiveled towards him quickly, and Dugan didn’t let a second go by before he was asking questions. “Sing? No kidding. Why didn’t they have you singing in that USO show?”

Even in the firelight they could see Steve’s ears pink up in embarrassment. “They just wanted me to do a bunch of lifting and military skits. Never asked if I could sing.” Steve shrugged, clutching his metal coffee cup close. “Besides, everyone would much prefer the girls do the singing, I think.”

There was a small murmur of approval from the men, but it died as another bitter cold wind hit them, forcing them to huddle together.

Bucky shivered and leaned closer to the fire, wishing the moment hadn’t turned so maudlin so fast. He smiled to himself and nudged his friend. “Why don’t you sing something for us. It is Christmas Eve, Stevie.”

The rest of his small team started talking over one another, calling out names of songs as their teeth chattered. Uncomfortable, Steve did the only thing he could think of, and let the little tidbit of knowledge slip on purpose.

“Bucky can tap dance.”

~*~

Peggy slipped into the dress shop, smiling brightly once she saw the face of her contact. She’d worked with the woman behind the counter, Rose, before. She was a good operative, and smart as a whip. Peggy knew the coded message would make it right to where it needed to be as fast as she needed it to get it there.

“How can I help you today?” Rose asked in crisp German, though her name tag boasted Barbara in big letters.

Peggy pretended to browse, running her hand over a soft red dress. “I’m looking for something for an important affair, that can be altered quickly.” She replied in English, letting her voice drift gently through the room. She didn’t know if there was anyone else there, and what’s she’d learned was going to change everything.

Rose nodded, pulling out a notepad and setting her measuring tape around her neck. “Well, we have some lovely fabrics from London, but that will take two or three days to make.” She switched to English, too, her smile bright and genuine.

Peggy let her hand linger on a blue dress, tapping her finger in a quick morse code that she knew Rose would recognize, the color of the dress under her fingers a code of its own. “I’d much prefer something quicker. By tonight if at all possible?” Urgent, the blue signaled. Highest closest, her fingers tapped out.

Rose nodded, tapping her own morse code out with the pen on the notepad: message of urgency received. “We have a lovely silver number in from Paris, if we start now, I’m sure we can get it done by tonight. I believe the designer’s name is Phillips.”

“Yes,” Peggy smiled. “I’ve worn him before; I believe he��s just the designer for the job.”

~*~

Chester Phillips paced in front of the 107th, every man, including the General, groggy from being woken by the messenger in the middle of the night.

“We’ve got support coming in as we speak from London. Men, you’re to get to Zola before he gets on that train, do you hear me? And if he doesn’t give up Schmidt, our Agent on the inside is equipped with a tracking beacon, so in less than 24 hours, we’ve got him.”

Steve stifled a yawn. “Who’s the man on the inside?”

Phillips smiled. “Best damn spy you’ll ever meet.” He turned serious again. “Agent Carter’s been feeding us information for years, and today the 107th gets to help Carter end the war.”

~*~

Steve picked ash from his hair as he watched the bustle around them, the palatial mansion filled with chatter as the Allied forces took it over. “Did you see him?” Steve asked, nudging his friend at his side, sitting on the step to catch his breath.

“No,” Bucky shook his head and rubbed his left arm. “I was hoping to shake Carter’s hand.”

“He gave us everything we needed to get in here and get Schmidt.” Steve looked around. “Plenty of people I don’t know, but…”

“But none of them look like spies.” Bucky finished for him, as tired and disappointed as Steve. He stood, setting his helmet back on his head. “I wonder what happened to that dame.”

Steve stood, reaching back to adjust his shield. “Dame?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded as they headed down the hallway. “I saw Phillips talking to some dame: long brown hair, bright red lips, sweet red dress. She was mad as hell at him.” He laughed. “Phillips grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out.”

Steve turned them towards what looked to be the laboratory where Phillips was still handing out orders. “I’m sure they’re holding her for questioning. Besides, unless I missed it, they weren’t giving out dresses this morning when I was suiting up. Let’s go, we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

~*~

Peggy sat in the back of the Jeep, cuffed just out of reach of a handful of Hydra operatives that were handcuffed in place against a rail. As much as she hated to admit it, Phillips was right: as much as she wanted to help take down Schmidt, she still had ties to multiple high level Nazi officials. They’d play a catch and release, she could give the Axis some false information about her imprisonment, and continue to feed the Allies all the information they needed to truly end the war.

Peggy tugged on her handcuffs and yelled a few expletives as another battalion of Hydra officers were marched past her by US forces.

It was all coming together, and it would all be over soon.

~*~

The beer was flat and the piano was out of tune, but that didn’t matter. The war was over, officially, and they were all going home. Pinky sat next to a French officer he didn’t know at the piano, while Dugan and Morita led a group of men surrounding it in drunken songs of celebration.

Steve watched, a soft smile on his face. They had done it, and they deserved every minute of happiness they could get out of tonight. He only turned away from them when Bucky bumped against him, sliding beer over.

“Last time you had that look,” Bucky started, a smirk betraying the elation he felt inside despite his suspicious tone, “you asked me to follow you into a war.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Steve paused to take a big swig of his drink. “War’s over now, Bucky.”

Bucky couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. “Some fucking thing, that, huh? Thought I’d never live to see the day.”

“Buck—”

“No,” his warmth did turn serious now as he set his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You saved my life. More than once, and you know it.” Steve looked down, uncomfortable under his friend’s gaze, but Bucky followed, dipping his head. “Steve, I won’t let you back out of this now. You saved my life. Literally.”

Steve grew quiet, and looked at his friend with tears in his eyes. “Well, I’m with ya ‘till the end of the line. You’re the only family I’ve got left… I wasn’t ready for it to be the end, yet.”

Bucky smiled, turning away and blinking the tears out of his own eyes. “Yeah. Yeah.” He took a drink of his beer, fighting to contain the racing emotions. “So, what were you planning on next, then?”

Steve smiled broadly, a glint on his eye. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

~*~

Chapter 1: Rogers and Barnes

Chapter Summary: We meet our heroes after the war, as Christmas nears.

Chapter A/N: Because if you don’t think these two would make and AMAZING Vaudeville singing and dancing comedy team, what are you even doing?

~*~

Bucky looked up at the marquis in the fading Florida sun, shading his squinted eyes with his hand. “It’s been three years, and I still say we sound like a law firm.”

“You gonna take the bar?” Steve deadpanned, looking up at the sign over the theater. “Barnes and Rogers doesn’t have quite the same ring.”

“I know,” Bucky shrugged and turned back, looking out at the bustling street as people moved around to get home for the night. “And I know they come to see you mostly anyway.”

“That was only at first.” Steve tugged at Bucky’s sleeve to get him to stop looking at the sign and moved forward, knocking on the door. “Your autograph line is longer than mine, now. After a two-year run on Broadway the audience knows who the more talented one in the act is. They’re disappointed when I don’t put on the costume.”

Bucky sucked his teeth at him, disapproving of his assessment. “They still come to see you. You should get the suit back out.”

“No.” His refusal was flat as he nodded at the guard who opened the door for them.

“You’d get more dates that way.” Bucky followed Steve into the theater, nodding at the guard as they passed. “You might get A date that way. You want to tell me why you passed on Doris again?”

“You mean the chorus girl that could barely string a sentence together?” Steve led them through the audience and to the stage door, past where the crew was dismantling their set for transport. “I’m happy with the way things are, Bucky. I don’t need a new dame in my life every night.”

Bucky jogged to pass him, pushing the door Steve was trying to open closed to get his attention. “Just once I’d like to see you go on a date. Enjoy yourself.”

“Buck—" Steve sighed, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Come on.”

“Come on, what?” Bucky matched his stance, blocking the way to their dressing room with his body. “I know you. You’re lonely. You’re getting to be miserable to be around.”

Bucky’s observation was met with silence, only the muted sounds of hammers and the dimmed voices of the men working filled it.

“You’ve been throwing everything with a little mascara and a skirt on at me for weeks now, Buck!” Steve finally retorted; his voice low but sharp. “I’m no good at the dating thing. You’ve seen it first-hand. I get it, why don’t you?” He sighed, defeated, when Bucky didn’t move a muscle and didn’t look away. “Can’t you just let me be? I’m happy enough with things the way they are.” Steve pushed past him, opening the door and moving through the tight hallway to their dressing room.

Bucky cursed loudly, slamming the door closed behind him as he followed Steve farther backstage. “But you’re unhappy, Steve!”

“That’s where you’re wrong!” Steve didn’t even turn, just tossed the words over his shoulder without a care. “I’m plenty happy. I’m healthy. I have a job I love, that’s done quite well for the both of us if I do say so myself, and it has a good future.” He paused, turning at the door to their dressing room. “I don’t hassle you about taking out every chorus girl and ticket girl you can get your hands on while we’re out touring. Why do you need to try to make me do the same?”

“You know why?” Bucky stepped up to him, stopped and looked at the inadequate privacy of the hallway, and pushed their dressing room door open, shoving Steve through it before he slid in and closed the door behind him. “You want to know why?” he asked again, voice low and ranting.

“Yes! Please!” Steve threw up his hands, leaning forward. “I’m going insane here with these girls you’re throwing at me.”

Bucky pressed his lips together, letting out a harsh breath through his nose before he continued. “Fine. Fine. You know what? Ever since that first big show on Broadway where we got to be producers, where we got to pick our own numbers and be the ones making the decisions, you’ve become obsessed. Every minute of every day you’re thinking about this show, or the next show, or the next song you’re gonna put in or the next dance routine that you’re going to have me do. You know I haven’t gotten a bit of rest for the last two years? Not one, Steve, because there you are, busting in my door in the middle of the night, shoving sheet music in my face while I’m trying to sleep.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That was once.”

“Twice!” Bucky stood tall, pacing away and back again, “And that’s two times too many, Steve.”

Steve leaned back on his empty dressing table, kicking his toe against their packed trunks. “So, the answer is women?” He sighed, voice raising. “I like my work, Bucky. Where’s the crime in that?”

Bucky growled in frustration. “I’m glad you like it, Steve. I like it to. But I like it. I know when to stop. I know when to step away. I haven’t had one minute to myself in two years, Steve! I want to take a break. Take a vacation. Maybe use some of this money we’ve managed to make to do something fun we used to dream about, yeah? I can’t do that with you being stuck in show mode all day every day!”

Steve tossed his hands to the side, frustrated. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“What…” Bucky laughed. “What do I want you to do about it?” He laughed again, running his hands down his face in disbelief. “I want you to meet a girl, Steve. I want you to have flowers and dates and long legs and bright red lips on your mind, not duets and set changes!” He laughed again, almost maniacal. “I want you to get married, pop out six kids, and even if you only spend ten minutes a day with each one, just ten, that’s still a whole hour to myself that I get that I didn’t have before.”

Bucky paced away, pulling the last of his things off his dressing table and stacking them in his trunk, not looking at Steve as he continued, slowly calming down. “I want you to be happy, buddy, and you ain’t. You can pretend all day long, up and down the East Coast, but ya ain’t happy. Not fully.”

Steve sighed, letting his ire fall as he turned away to his own dressing table, opening the drawer and pulling out the last few things in there. He waited until his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest anymore to talk. “You really think I’m going to find happiness with the rocket scientists you’ve been trying to set me up with?” Steve clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “Last girl could barely put a sentence together if she didn’t read it off a page.”

“No!” Bucky bit the word out, rolling his eyes at Steve. “But you need to get out there. Have a date or two. They’re a good place to start. Nice girls who aren’t expecting much, you know?”

Steve put the handkerchief he had in his hand into his trunk and stopped, leaning on his hands. “The kinda girls we meet in this business are young. Ambitious. They want me to help their career or set them up in a house somewhere to be arm candy, Buck.” Steve sighed, running a hand though his hair and staring up at himself in the mirror. “They won’t get it when I wake up screaming a night because I’m remembering what I saw when we liberated that camp, or when I get the shakes because a car backfires in the street.”

Bucky stopped what he was doing, and looked at his friend, his own dour expression on his face. “The only people who get that are the ones who were there, Steve.”

Steve nodded and turned away, the heat of the argument dead after the somber turn it took.

They descended into silence again as they finished packing up the dressing room, checking each inch for combs and last pages of sheet music that might get inadvertently left behind. Steve finally locked his trunk and stopped, leaning on it as he watched Bucky try to shove a last, nearly forgotten pair of shoes into his. “I’m not saying you’re wrong.”

“You can’t because I’m not,” Bucky mumbled through gritted teeth as he shoved a coat aside to make way for the shoes.

Steve winced, knowing he’d be the one to steam the wrinkles out of that once they started the show back up again. “Partly.” He waited until Bucky turned to continue. “But I want…” Steve sighed, looking away.

“You want a nice girl who wants to settle down, have a family, maybe a little white picket fence in the suburbs somewhere and a dog that you’ll have to walk every night. Am I right?”

Steve scratched his chin, looking away. “I hadn’t really thought about the dog.”

Bucky threw a soft punch at his arm. “You hadn’t thought of the dog my ass. You know that’s what you want.”

Steve almost smiled, “I know you know that’s what I want.”

Bucky laughed, moving around to stand next to him, nudging him with his shoulder. “You know I know because it’s all you talked about since you liked Betty Carpenter in the fifth grade.”

Steve chucked. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

“You know.” Bucky sighed, eyes flitting over the empty dressing room instead of at his friend. “I know you’re never going to be happy going around with girls like I am. I like the excitement of meeting new people, Steve. I like finding a new face in every town to get to know and to get the thrill of new possibilities every few weeks. I know you’re not like that. But I’m trying to help the only way I know how.”

“I know.” Steve nudged him back with his shoulder, then turned back to his trunk, lifting it easily. “One day, the right girl’s gonna come along. If she’ll have me, we’ll get started on that house in the suburbs and those six kids for you, ok?” He sighed, stopping as he reached the door. “An hour a day gonna be enough?”

Bucky smirked, lifting his own trunk with somewhat less ease. “Well, I’ll get a few more minutes to myself when you’re walking the dog, won’t I?”

Steve led them down the hall to where the crew was starting to pile up the set pieces by the big double doors that led to the loading dock. “Not if I make a chore for the kids.”

Bucky groaned as they set down their trunks. “You would do that to me, wouldn’t you?” He sat heavily on the trunk as Steve waved their production manager over. “I’m gonna need at least three more kids, then.”

“Talk to my imaginary future wife,” Steve mumbled at him, standing up tall as their production manager approached. “How’s load out going, Will?”

“On time, Mr. Rogers.” The young man held up his clipboard and flipped through a few pages. “Cast has all signed out, all extremely happy with the time off and Christmas bonuses you’ve given them—”

“Just because we don’t have any other family to spend the holidays with doesn’t mean they should have to suffer,” Bucky commented gently, Steve nodding in agreement.

Will smiled. “Well, we are all very grateful.” He picked up his clipboard and slipped an envelope off of it. “Your train tickets for tonight arrived just a little while ago, and I’ll make sure your trunks get right to the station.”

“Thanks again,” Steve replied, taking the tickets and looking them over. “How’s the set coming?” He handed them over to Bucky.

Will took a quick look around. “Almost done, that’ll make it on time, too.”

“Good!” Bucky stood, flicking the envelope with the tickets in it before safely tucking it in his pocket. “We’ve got to head out- we’re checking out an act.”

“I almost forgot,” Steve mumbled.

“I didn’t know we were looking for a new act for the review,” Will looked slightly concerned, eyes twitching back and forth between the two men.

“Nah,” Bucky replied, clapping the young man on the shoulder. “It’s a sister act, we’re going to give them some pointers for an old Army buddy.”

Will nodded, then scrunched up his face as he thought. “Well, if they’re any good, the second act is still running short. We could spare up to seven minutes.” Will stopped, looking up at Steve. “That is, if you didn’t have something else in mind, Mr. Rogers.”

“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Rogers has something in mind.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s shoulders, turning him before he could get a word out. “Thanks for all your help, Will! Have a Merry Christmas!”

“You, too, sirs!”

Steve waited until Bucky had steered him out of Will’s earshot before wiggling out of his grip. “Why are we going to see this act again??

“Because Martinelli asked us to.” Bucky steered him out of the building and pointed downtown.

“Martinelli? Benny Martinelli? The one from the mess?” Steve looked at him sideways as they moved down the street.

Bucky hummed in agreement. “Same one.”

Steve sidestepped a group of kids. “I had no idea he had sisters.”

“Well, if they look anything like him, we’re already in trouble.” Bucky winced and stopped at the crosswalk, turning the Steve. “He had a face only his mother could love.”

Steve nodded, gritting his teeth, watching as the cars went by. “You know, I talked to him so many times—”

“Weaseling out extra portions,” Bucky teased.

“Super human biology, I’ll have you remember,” Steve snuck in as they started across the street. “He never mentioned he had sisters.”

“Who knows, we might get there and it might be him in a wig with a mop trying to pass off as a sister act.” Bucky threw his hands up and laughed good naturedly. “We’re doing an old Army buddy a favor.”

The rest of the walk was quick, and they were ushered to a table on an outdoor veranda with more fanfare than Steve liked. “I’ll never get used to this part,” Steve mumbled.

“Can you just try to enjoy it, for once?” Bucky whispered back, always just a little exasperated with the wat Steve didn’t quite enjoy the perks of being a famous performer and war hero. He turned to the host seating them by the dancefloor. “Excuse me, have the Martinelli Sisters gone on yet?”

“No, but they should be on in about fifteen minutes.” The man set a menu in front of them.

“You mind telling them we’re here?”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes.”

~*~

The knock on the door startled Peggy, and she pulled her dress up to her slip-clad body, even though no one had come in to their tiny dressing room. “Who is it?” she called in an even, American accent. The host replied with his name quietly, and Peggy tossed her costume on the bench and wrapped up quickly in her robe before opening the door. “Everything alright?”

The man smiled, “Yes, quite, ladies. I just wanted to tell you, Barnes and Rogers are here, and they asked about your act specifically. Mr. Barnes even said to tell you they were here!”

Angie leaned over Peggy’s shoulder, smiling brightly. “Oh, how wonderful! Ain’t that great, Peg?”

Peggy’s face stayed stoic. “Lovely.”

The host, feeling tension, slipped away quietly. As the door shut Peggy pulled off her robe, tossing it down and picking up her costume again. “I told you not to do it,” she huffed softly in a gentle English accent as she stepped into her gown.

Angie deflated, sitting on the small bench at her make-up mirror. “Are you sore?”

“Sore? Yes.” Peggy’s tone was crisp and annoyed, and avoided looking at her friend as she slipped the gown up. “What happens when they find out we’re not sisters? That they’re not doing a favor for a friend because you were the one that wrote that letter?”

Angie stood and moved over to Peggy, turning her around and zipping her into her dress. “If Benny weren’t in Alaska where it takes six months to get a letter here to there and back again, he’d have done it for us. I know he woulda.” She was bright and positive, just like she always seemed to be. “Besides,” Angie turned Peggy back to her, twisting the curls around her face into place and smoothing her dress over her shoulders, “it’s good business. We keep sitting here playing little clubs waiting for fate to happen, we’ll both be old and grey.”

Peggy shook her head, finding it extremely difficult to be mad at her friend. She couldn’t help the smile that crept into the corner of her mouth. “You’re going to get us pushed right out of this business, you know. First the sister act when we’re obviously not sisters…”

“Semantics,” Angie tossed in, flapping her hand at Peggy as she turned away to put the finishing touches on her make-up.

“And now this?” Peggy sighed, stepping over and leaning her hip against the table where Angie was finishing her make-up. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Angie looked up at her, and then shook her head, going back to her mascara. “You know, you’re clucking about like a mother hen here again.”

“Some days I do wonder how you manage,” Peggy sighed, “but I know you know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve been in this business a long time,” Angie muttered as she lined her lips, “We need to give fate a little push if we want to go places.”

“Five minutes, girls!” The call came through the door.

“Thank you!” Angie called as Peggy turned hurriedly to her mirror to make some last-minute adjustments. “Oh, stop it, English. You’re a catch. He’ll be crazy about you.”

Peggy huffed a laugh through her nose. “Which one?”

Angie winked. “Whichever one doesn’t see me first, that’s who.”

#@roboticonography #@steggyfanevents #steggysecretsanta #Steggy Fic #3P's Fic #AU

45 notes · View notes

brightbeautifulthings · 3 years ago

Text

Not Easily Conquered by dropdeaddream & WhatAreFears

"I won't be in the history books; that's for you. But I loved you first. As long as they get that right, I don't care what they say."

Year Read: 2022

Rating: 5/5

About: In 1945, Bucky Barnes falls from a train in the Alps, the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country. Later that same year, Steve Rogers jumps from a plane and swims to shore in freezing waters. In 1947, he marries Peggy Carter. In 1966, thirteen love letters written by Bucky Barnes are discovered and sensationalized, and Steve's marriage fractures. Decades later, separated from his wife, he discovers the identity of the Winter Soldier. Canon-typical triggers, including: death/character death, torture, blood/gore, severe injury, brain-washing, war, captivity, guns, violence, needles, homophobia, racism, grief. You can read it on AO3.

Thoughts: Sometimes I read a novel that's so well-crafted and so beautifully written that I think no matter how good I get at this, I will never be able to write something this good. I've long thought that a lot of fanfiction is better than some published novels, but this is the first time I've ever had that feeling about a fic. No matter how good I get at writing, I'll never be able to write something this beautiful, and that's okay because dropdeaddream & WhatAreFears have already done it. Agree or disagree with the ships or the plot choices, I think everyone can agree that the writing in Not Easily Conquered is poetic and heartfelt, and it has hands down some of the best quotes about love I've ever read in my life. Since AO3 still won't let me underline things, I kept a list in my notes of all my favorite lines that ended up being over two pages. I wrote them on my whiteboard, sent them to my Marvel partner in suffering; people translate this fic into other languages and get these words tattooed on their bodies--that's how beautiful they are. Whatever Ellen and Emily are up to these days, I hope they're still writing. 10/10 would buy your novels. ��

The story is ambitiously plotted and spans a number of decades, following Steve through the discovery of Bucky's love letters in the sixties through the Vietnam War to his learning that Bucky is the Winter Soldier and moving up the timeline on CA:TWS a bit. I really enjoyed this alternate imagining of a Steve who did get to go home after the war, marry his best girl, and have a life, and... it goes about the way anyone with a clear understanding of Steve's character imagines it would. (Sorry, I got distracted giving that Endgame Steve pod person the evil eye). He might not fit into the twenty-first century, but he didn't fit that well in his own time either, and it's hard to watch a character I love flounder so hard in a world that doesn't seem to have a place for him anymore. He's so lost for so much of the story.

I'm a Stucky shipper from way back, so The Thirteen Letters was easily my favorite section in the trilogy. Bucky's voice is perfectly captured, and there's enough pining and angst in there to fuel a fandom for decades. It's also so much fun to get a closer look at the Howling Commandos in that section; Jim Morita is a prince, and you can't change my mind. Peggy is more difficult to pin down, given that she does a lot of questionable things in this story (and in the MCU, if we’re being honest), but I enjoy her complicated characterization. I can see it being a problem for Steggy antis though because there is a lot of Steggy in this fic. I'm not personally a fan, but I think it works for the purposes of the story, and I'm in love with their daughter, Katherine. I also loved Natasha's characterization and the creative ways other characters like Tony Stark and Nick Fury are worked into the plot. In the ice for seventy years or not, some people are just meant to be in the same story. I blew through it in about two days, and the only thing I wanted to do when I finished was start it over again immediately.

#book review #fanfiction review #not easily conquered #dropdeaddream #WhatAreFears #stucky #steggy #fanfiction #5/5 #rating: 5/5 #2022 #anti endgame

16 notes · View notes

javajunkieao3 · 5 years ago

Text

Steggy Valentine’s Day Fic

**I forgot my own timeline here - so, imagine this happening whenever Sarah is a baby. Happy Valentine’s Day, all! **

Peggy knew the old adage, “We plan, God laughs.” It was one of her mother’s favorite things to say when she was growing up, her tone changing from exasperation to warmth depending on the circumstances. Peggy later learned that it was a Yiddish phrase, making her wonder just how her Hampstead-bred mother came upon it.

Valentine’s Day was never a particularly important holiday for Peggy and Steve. When one of you travelled across time and space to be together, a random day int the middle of February didn’t really hold much weight. So, while other couples donned their finest and celebrated in the city, Peggy and Steve happily stayed home.

But this year, was different. Howard ended up with an extra reservation for one of the most sought after restaurants in Manhattan, and after doggedly asking Peggy about them for two weeks straight, she finally relented and accepted the reservation. If it was anyone else, she would have just lied about going, but she knew from experience that Howard asked exhaustively detailed questions, so she and Steve had no choice but to go.

At first she begrudged the Valentine’s Day plans, but as the date approached, she couldn’t help but be swept up in it all. From what she heard, the restaurant was a revelation, although she was sold entirely by the promised chocolate course. While Peggy dressed for work each day, it had been a while since she and Steve properly went out, and she took pleasure in choosing an outfit and spending an inordinate amount of time accessorizing.

When the day came, she happily slipped into her red cocktail dress, her body thrumming with bubbly energy.

"If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re excited for this dinner,” Steve said from the doorway as he adjusted his cufflinks.

Peggy was seat at the vanity fixing her makeup and she smiled at him in the mirror. “Is it so wrong for me to be excited?”

“Of course not. It’s just particularly amusing coming from the woman who spent a good portion of the last week railing on about a fake holiday.”

“I didn’t rail.”

He only raised his eyebrows in response and she rolled her eyes before admitting, “Fine, I railed a bit. But, it’s not entirely my fault. Howard loves Valentine’s Day and it’s all he’s talked about for the last week.”

“I’m guessing Maria will have a memorable day?” He asked, walking into the bedroom. He picked up his suit jacket from the bed and shrugged it on.

“Oh yes. One of her gifts is a box of white doves who will, to quote Howard, take flight like his heart the first time he saw Maria. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was quite insistent.”

“I guess this is a bad time to tell you about your box of doves, then?” Steve teased, coming behind her and resting his palms on her shoulders. She leaned back into him and rested her head on his arm.

“You look very handsome, darling.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “And you look beautiful, as always.”

She tilted her face up to his and he kissed her softly. Between one kiss and the next, Peggy asked, “When is the babysitter getting here, again?”

“I think seven,” he said, pressing one last kiss against her mouth and straightening. He looked at his watch. “She should actually be here any minute.”

“You head downstairs. I’ll bring Sarah down.”

Peggy took one last look in the mirror, making one final adjustment to her lipstick, before walking over to the nursery. Sarah was standing in her crib, tiny fists grasping the railing.

“Hello darling,” Peggy cooed, picking her up. She noticed that Sarah felt a bit warm and she shifted her daughter to her hip and laid the back of her hand on her forehead.

Downstairs, she heard the doorbell ring, and several things happened in quick succession. Peggy turned to fetch a blanket from the crib. Sarah puked on her dress. And their Valentine’s Day plans were laughably derailed.

Later that evening, Steve and Peggy shared a romantic dinner of leftover meatloaf. To mark the occasion they ate in the living room with their feet propped up on the coffee table. Sarah was fast asleep in Peggy’s arms.

“I’m sorry that tonight didn’t work out,” Steve said.

Peggy smoothed Sarah’s hair away from her face and said, “Tonight was perfect. We were exactly where we were meant to be.”

She looked over at him, soft smile playing on her lips, and he held her gaze, making her cheeks flush just like they always did when he caught her like this. He leaned in and kissed her. It was her favorite kind of kiss. Easy. Unhurried. The type of kiss someone could take for granted, but she never did.

“I love you,” she said. “Today and every day.”

#steve rogers #Peggy carter #steggy #steggy valentine's day #steggyheartsbutts #steggyfanevents

53 notes · View notes

blackberrywidow · 6 years ago

Text

Marvel Masterlist

Here’s a collection of all of the fics, oneshots, prompts, etc. that I write. I will try to update this every time I post something new. As a reminder, I do take requests and I’m always available to talk about my writing (or yours!), so please drop by my asks or messages!

Legend:

👌 - 100+ notes

✌️ - 500+ notes

👉 - Ongoing series

👍 - Completed series

💕 - Personal favorite

Series

Transcendental (Peter Parker x Stark!reader) 👉

Series Masterlist

Summary: In your universe, your husband and father are dead. Widowed and heartbroken at 23, you have to learn to move on, and somehow carry both Iron Man’s and Spider-Man’s legacies, all while hunting your husband’s killer. It’s not easy, but you’re managing.

In his universe, you don’t even exist. The Decimation was averted over five years ago, but that doesn’t mean Peter Parker has had time to rest. Especially not when the universe begins to tear itself apart.

With the multiverse itself at stake, you’re forced to face the ghosts of your past—who are suddenly very much alive and unaware of your history— and hope that you’re strong enough to save them this time.

His Legacy [ON HIATUS] 👉

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five ...

Summary: Tony Stark had never wanted to be a father– had never wanted to risk passing on the Stark’s legacy of absentee fathers and childhood trauma. But looking at his son now, swaddled tightly in his arms, he knew that he was always meant to be his father. Peter was the best thing to ever happen to him, and his would be the only legacy that mattered. (AU in which Tony is Peter’s biological father)

Adventures in Babysitting 👍

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Summary: Peter is entrusted to babysit Morgan Stark for the first time, something he is entirely unprepared for. How exactly is he supposed to tell Mr. Stark that he lost his daughter? (A collection of one shots following Peter and his baby sister Morgan)

OneShots

Peter Parker:

A Dangerous Downpour

Summary: All you want to do is talk to your crush, but a certain tentacle wearing villain gets in the way. Prompt: “Can you believe we almost just died?”

Roll to Me 💕👌

Summary: You find yourself stuck in a church, about to make the biggest mistake of your life. Luckily, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is there to save the day. – Based on the song “Roll to Me” by Del Amitri.

You’re It 💕✌️

Summary: College AU. During a game of Humans vs. Zombies, you find yourself falling for the enemy.

The Death of Me

Summary: You left Peter because of the danger. You weren’t the kind of girl that could be with a superhero, no matter how much you wanted to be. You thought you were protecting both of you. You just never imagined that death would still find you.

Bucky Barnes:

And So She Waited

Summary: Vera was used to waiting on Bucky Barnes, but she never imagined she would have to wait seventy-five years to see him again. Time changes a lot of things, but he always manages to find his way back to her.

Drive 👌

Summary: When a dangerous assassin breaks into the reader’s car, she realizes that becoming his glorified Uber isn’t actually the worst thing that could happen to her. Prompt: “You’re getting blood all over my car.”

Cut My Heart Out

Summary: Detective Bucky Barnes had planned to spend this year’s purge the same way he spent all of them—locked safely inside his home, avoiding trouble. However, his plans are unwillingly changed when a woman breaks inside his home. Prompt: Serial Killer/Murderer AU

Undercover, In Over Your Head 👌

Summary: Spy AU. After months of being undercover as Bucky’s wife, it’s time to finally finish your mission. The stakes are high with both of your lives on the line, but somehow the only thing you’re worried about is giving up your life as Mrs. Jones. Getting out of this alive is one thing, but getting out of it with your heart still intact is another. Prompt: Keeping Up With the Joneses’ AU / “Kiss Me. Quickly!”

Can’t Quit You

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You and Bucky find comfort in each other, but how long can it last before boundaries are crossed and heartbreak becomes inevitable? Prompt: “Quit” by Cashmere Cat (feat. Ariana Grande)

Stay 👌

Summary: With your life being threatened by a megalomaniac with a murderous streak, Bucky takes it upon himself to keep you safe. Even at the cost of some slight cuddling. Prompt: “I’m staying with you.”

A Good Start

Summary: After a few drinks, you decide that now is the perfect time to confront Bucky about your feelings.

Steve Rogers:

Happy New Year 🎄👌

Summary: It’s a night of new beginnings, and you are surprised to find one with the man you so love to hate.

Clint Barton:

Coffee Stains and Heart Pains 👌💕

Summary: For years you’ve wondered what kind of man would curse you to have the word “fuck” branded on your wrist as your soulmate mark. Well, you’re about to find out. (Soulmate AU)

Untraditional 🎄

Summary: You spend Christmas Eve waiting for your boyfriend to come home, and considering said boyfriend happens to be Clint Barton… of course disaster ensues.

How Clint Stole Christmas 🎄

Summary: You decide to go on the hunt for a Christmas tree just hours before Christmas Day. What started out as an innocent desire for a traditional Christmas ends in with breaking and entering and possible jail time. But with Clint Barton at your side… what else did you expect?

Super Family:

Stand 👌💕

Summary: Her father’s legacy is a tough one to carry, but Morgan does her best to make her father proud.

Don’t Tumblr and Tell ✌️💕

Summary: The Avengers discover an “Incorrect Avengers Quotes” Tumblr account that is full of things that they have actually said. They immediately set out to find the mole, unaware that Peter Parker is the culprit.

Alone

Summary: The moments after the Snap through Peter’s eyes.

After I’m Gone

Summary: After Tony dies to save the universe, the ones he loves continue on without him. But maybe they aren’t as alone as they thought.

Rhodey 👌

Summary: Rhodey’s best friend dies, and all he can do is watch.

Time

Summary: All Tony has left is time and guilt, but it’s never enough. (A drabble about Tony’s time adrift in space.)

Miscellaneous Pairings:

The Deaf Leading the Blind 👌

Summary: (Stony) In which Steve confesses his feelings for Tony to Clint, not realizing he can’t hear a damn thing he’s saying. Based on this post.

The One Where He Survives

Summary: (Stony) Tony gets a surprise on his birthday.

Suffocating

Summary: (Buckynat) Agent James Barnes has dedicated his life to tracking down psychopaths and serial killers and putting them behind bars, but when a possibly psychopathic, definitely beautiful assassin asks for his help, how can he say no?

The Dance

Summary: (Steggy) Steve and Peggy finally get their dance. (Post Avengers 4, but written before endgame and therefore not cannon-compliant.)

Prompts & Blurbs:

“I said I love you” (bucky x reader)

“I’m not going anywhere.” (bucky x reader; angst)

“Alright. I’ll leave you alone.” (steve x reader; angst)

“Come on, stay with me.” (steve x reader)

“You’re in love with her.” (buckynat/romangers; angst)

“How much of that did you hear?” (buckynat coffeeshop au)

“I can’t remember the last time I did this with someone.” (buckynat; fluff)

“Please. You can’t die now.” (buckynat- angst)

“You wanna come to a super soft birthday party?” (Bucky + team bonding)

“What God-awful demon possessed you to wear that?” (romangers halloween)

“I am centuries old. You need to do more than that to get rid of me.” (romangers halloween)

“That costume really is convincing. You might terrify a few too many children.” (buckynat halloween)

“We should do a couple’s costume!” (wandava halloween)

The Slap (buckynat soulmate au; angst)

Double Dates and Confused Captains (danbeau & romangers w/ a dash of winter falcon)

Headcanons:

Loki + babysitting

Romangers + babysitting

Romangers + college/coffee shop AU

BuckyNat + supernatural AU

BuckyNat halloweeen costumes

Pepperony high school AU

Starmora (post endgame)

Clintasha

have a request? send me an ask!

224 notes · View notes

marshunter06 · 6 years ago

Text

Endgame Thoughts

If you haven’t seen it and you don’t want to be spoiled don’t read this.

Unpopular opinion but I don’t fucking care. I fucking hated endgame. What the fuck was that? This movie was written for fanboys with no regard for fan girls. There were so many issues within the original six’s characterization (with the exception of Clint imo). Call me an angry bitch just cause my ship wasn’t canon, sure whatever, but that’s not why I’m fucking bitter. It left me so fucking unsatisfied. I feel empty. What the fuck did I just watch.

While I love Steve and enjoy Tony, this movie was once again not an avengers movie. It’s a Steve and Tony movie. Everyone else got their story arc pushed back. Telling me that Natasha will play a big role in this movie then killing her off halfway. Yeah sure. Tell me again why Thor was pretty fucking useless against Thanos while Steve was kicking ass? He’s the fucking God of Thunder! Also he was the butt of too many jokes and it was way overdone. Haven’t we seen Thor hit rock bottom having to fight his way back enough times? Also he didn’t mention Loki??? He’s still hung up on Jane? Now he’s probably going to be in gotg 3 and I’m just not a fan of that. Take more spotlight away from the guardians whatever. I’m not a Thor stan so I won’t say more, but they did him dirty.

The Bruce and Hulk thing was pretty fucking weird to me. Though again not a huge fan of him normally I can’t say much. I’ll agree with Valkyrie when she says I think I liked you better before. If they would have explained this better or even set it up then maybe I could accept it more. When the ancient one pushed Bruce out I fully expected Hulk to get up, but nope. Guess he’s gone, just his body left. Kinda pissed fhat ge didn’t get a rematch with Thanos. I also think that they made Bruce more of a joke and dumber even though he’s pretty fucking smart. Again not a stan, so I’ll leave it at that, but they him dirty.

Tony. Fuck man. Nothing will every prepare for that moment. Everybody knew it was coming, but it wasn’t fucking fair. You guys just couldn’t let him be happy with Pepper and Morgan (this Morgan is fucking pissed because of this). He’s played the self sacrificing character in every single fucking avengers movie. Really? This crap again? It’s fucking old. Just let the man retire, but no because no one else is more qualified to deal the final blow to Thanos. Fuck that. The heart and soul of the MCU is gone now. Thanks a lot. With it, a true OTP gone too. While I’m at this, fuck Howard Stark. Why do you guys want to paint him as such a great man all the time? Tony just suffers and suffers. Does he get a happy ending? No, he gets to die instead. Of fucking course. I could go on about this, but basically they did him fucking dirty.

As for my goddess Natasha... words cannot describe how bitter I am that you’re gone. I refuse to believe it. You’re just stuck in the soul realm. I honestly think they killed her just because they didn’t know what the fuck to do with her character. Which is fucking dumb since I would’ve loved the Black Widow movie to be set after Endgame with her doing shit on her own, but nope. Poor Nat is just trying to keep shit together without falling apart. She cares so much about her found family and she would do anything for them. It’s a shame she doesn’t get to see how she helped save the world. It’s also a fucking shame that she didn’t get a fucking funeral or more than a few lines from Clint. Yo if you don’t see romanogers as an otp theyre at the very least a solid brotp! We got one fucking tear from Steve then nothing. Why did she even have to die! In Infinity Wars Red Skull tells Thanos he must lose what he loves most, no offense, but Natasha is not what Clint loves most. He’s already lost who he loves most. All of a sudden it changes to who you love? While the clintasha moments were great, it was just that. This movie gave us Clint and Clintasha development but nothing with just Natasha. She is more than her relationship with other men. I know I wrote a fic where she dies during Endgame, but fuck man did it really have to come true? She wasn’t in half the movie because of this bullshit! That awesome women empowerment moment with all the ladies of the MCU was missing the Black Widow! She gave us the first strong female hero in the MCU and she should’ve fucking been there for that scene, but no. I don’t care what anyone says, she should’ve fucking been there. It would’ve been such a kickass moment to finally see all of them together on screen kicking ass. She deserved better. Fuck. I’m sorry Natasha, they did you fucking dirty.

I have a lot of feelings about Steve obvi since that’s my Captain. The man out of time thing? We’re really still going with that? Sure just disregard all of his character development in the previous movies, yeah let’s just put him back at the first avengers film. It’s a fucking sad day when I say I wish he fucking died. They basically killed his character for me. I fucking knew he would go back in time and stay there. What other choice did they have if they didn’t want to kill him? Well they should’ve just killed him. It would’ve been fitting for him to make that ultimate sacrifice finally just as Tony did. I’ve always loved seeing Steve progress and develops with each movie proving to us why he’s Captain America and why he’s still relevant today, but this movie fucking regresses the hell out of him. You’re fucking telling me he chooses to go back for Peggy who he knew for what like three years instead of staying with his team/family who he’s worked with for over ten fifteen years now. Yeah cause apparently they don’t mean shit to him. Fuck that. Steggy isn’t the only real relationship. His brotps matter too and they matter a hell of a lot more than his romances. Instead of giving us that Howard and Tony talk, Peggy should’ve slapped some sense into Steve. Honestly I firmly believe that Steve wouldn’t have gone back if Tony and Nat made it. I’m still fucking livid. Yeah let’s just ignore all the timeline/ other universes that will occur when I choose to stay back in time. Let’s just skip over Steve putting the soul stone back and ignoring Natasha’s death so he can get back to his lost love. Yes I’m fucking bitter. What the fuck did you do to my favorite character? And to the important relationships he had with the other avengers, new and old? Given the choice I guess we would apparently all choose to live in the past instead of moving forward. Great fucking message there. Steve, they did your character fucking dirty.

Bring on the fanfics cause this canon is fucking broke. I have a fix it fic in mind already. I’m so disappointed in the MCU. Endgame is not my canon. Fuck that movie. Honestly I’m kinda done with this. I don’t want to talk about this fucking movie anymore. I never thought Endgame would be the end of my love for the MCU too. To quote Tony, “part of the journey is the end” and unlike some poorly written characters, I can move on.

#avengers endgame #endgame spoilers #Mars rants #unpopular opinion #I tried to hold my tongue but I can’t

5 notes · View notes

beautifulwhensarcastic · 2 years ago

Photo

Favorite Steggy Fic Quotes [part 2]

I knew nothing but shadows

A second chance at keeping him safe

Nobody’s baby

Three little words

Avalanche

Things left behind and the things that are ahead

#this part is more about feeels and emotional pain #steggyedit #steggy #marveledit #mcuedit #peggy x steve #steggy fic #favorite steggy fic quotes #steve x peggy #**

122 notes · View notes

theawkwardterrier · 8 years ago

Text

Fic roundup 2016

Buffyverse All Work The Closing Distance To Question, Squirrels and Books

Gilmore Girls Heads, Hands

Harry Potter (Enough Misadventures) To Last A Lifetime The Biting Yesterdays In the Neighbourhood As Yourself

Leverage Sanctuary Space In the Gray Light

MCU The Madcap Underground Withdraw Their Shining The Job At Hand This Bright Future Homemakers Stand Together Burdens Had The Question At Hand All the Days Woman Borne With Gentleness and Time Duty Bound Like Gravity

The Newsroom A Rousing Debate

Veronica Mars Untitled celebrity/fan AU The Blown Job

1. Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?: Considering I didn’t write a damn word for nearly half the year, much much more. I was super surprised when I did a “last 20 fics” thing in October-ish, and found that they were all in 2016. And I also feel like I actually got a decent balance between longer oneshots, little snippets, and at least one decently sized (for me) chapter fic. It also helped that I got less anxious about asking for prompts, and people were nice enough to step up and give them to me.

2. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?: I never ever would have expected Steve/Peggy and the MCU to take over my life and my writing as completely as it did. I have literally no concrete memory of how it happened, but suddenly they were just there, and I’ve found them honestly delightful to both read and write.

3. What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? Homemakers. Homemakers. All day, every day. It’s just the right level of fluff, sounds authentic enough, flowed nicely, has humor and sweetness and a solid relationship and a plot but also a bit of a “glimpse into the life” thing. One hundred percent. Homemakers.

4. Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? Started writing Woman Borne even though The Ninety-Nine Percent had burned me out so badly. Finished writing Woman Borne even as I realized that I likely wasn’t equipped to do so. On the one hand, I’m proud of the way I handled the act of writing and posting it- I remembered to finish the whole thing ahead of time, I had it read over at an early stage to see if I should keep going and then had it read when it was complete by someone lovely and knowledgeable, I looked over each chapter before posting and made edits if they felt necessary rather than feeling that what I’d written had to dictate the way it would go- but I don’t think I would write something so heavy and controversial and out of my personal experience like that in the near future. Although the readers were overall lovely, it was stressful as heck.

5. Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year? Just, keep writing. If I could finish a few of my WIPs, that would be nice (especially the Very Large Cameron/Chase one) but I’m pretty satisfied to take things as they come. I think my experience with The Blown Job this year was actually really helpful to me- it was a fairly old WIP, one that I’d put down as a goal to finish this year, and without even pushing myself to do it, I just picked it up and chipped away at it until it was done. It just needed to rest in my folder and in my brain for a while, and when it was ready to be done, I finished it.

6. From my past year of writing, what was… Story Most Underappreciated by the Universe: I think that things mostly got noticed in proportion to how they deserved to be noticed- Woman Borne is long so it got more, Homemakers is actually pretty good so it got props even though it was shorter- but some of my smaller fics sort of sank without a ripple. Part of it is my fault because I’m terrible at self-promo, so they were posted once on tumblr, and maybe on AO3, but I feel awkward trying to be noticed, which means that they weren’t. I’m tempted to say Head, Hands, which was my first Rory/Logan story in a while; or either of my Parker/Hardison attempts, but in the end I think I have to go with Like Gravity, which was my last fic of the year and my Steggy Secret Santa story. I don’t know if it was weird tumblr stuff or if the unevenness really put people off, but I didn’t think it was a bad story and it just seemed to go gently into the fanfic ether.

Most Fun: I think The Job At Hand. Homemakers came out so smoothly and I really liked writing all the showgirls in Stand Together, but there’s just something about the hilarious frustration of trying to keep Steve Rogers under control.

Most Disappointing: Maybe In the Neighbourhood, which was my first Ron/Hermione story. I think the characterization was okay but nothing stellar, the writing wasn’t spectacular, and the situation was a little basic. Overall, it was serviceable but lacked any kind of sparkle.

Actually, I take it back. As Yourself, one of my Lily/James fics. The idea is good and even the individual elements are good. I’m really proud of the title, too: it refers both to the quote “love your neighbor as yourself” and the theme of presenting yourself honestly. But the pacing is all wrong. I rushed it, and it shows.

Most Sexy: Oh good gosh. For years I have been answering these questions and I have never succeeded in this one. I know that there’s a lot of ways to be sexy. I write fluff and angst and everything in between. But my sexy is like “do the characters make physical contact at any point?” I’d say This Bright Future, most likely.

Hardest to Write: Woman Borne is probably the easiest answer, but although it took several months to write and had a LOT of big things tangled in it, it didn’t feel that hard in the scheme of my chapter fic experiences. I struggled with getting through The Closing Distance- I’ve had trouble with Buffy/Angel stuff for several years- but I was really surprised by how hard Like Gravity was. It was the only Steve/Peggy fic I had a particularly hard time writing, which was especially strange considering it wasn’t an extraordinarily complicated AU.

Most Unintentionally Telling: Maybe the fact that I like Homemakers so much and have reread it so many times. Although is it a reveal if my love for fluff is well known and publicized? As is my frustration re: bread-making. And that part was written with full and vocal intention, so...not sure

Choice Lines:

Harry (so normal; James’s dad would have loved that) looks around, pulling on a gray t-shirt. “What’s happening?” he says eyeing the cauldron, his mother, and James eyeing him.

“Your dad had a little incident,” Lily says. She hands Harry a muffin, shrugging when he looks from it to her. “Pre-incident baking.”

“Alright,” Harry says easily. He takes a bite. “‘M going to Ron’s for Quidditch.” He sticks the rest of the muffin in his mouth and leaves the room as Lily pours some of the cooled teal potion into a glass and sets it in front of James, who doesn’t move for a moment.

“Woah. Didn’t mean to step into the morning after.”

“Well you did, and now you’ve got it all over your shoe.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” Steve considered adding ‘with all due respect, sir,’ but he didn’t think it would have mattered at that point, and he also didn't think it would be honest.

...Peggy Carter is controlled and capable and brilliant, but the only thing that’s stone about her is the strength of her right hook.

Steve thinks of courts martial and the way Peggy's uniform fits her so easily. His chest feels splayed open. “I'd love to come with you,” he says, the words breathing out of him.

He wants to hug her, to hold her against him, calculated and risky and stunning. Instead he finds her hand where it lies in the sand between them and presses it delicately…

...Steve, eyes downcast, gifts Peggy with a drawing- simple charcoal on lovely, thick paper- of what she recognizes with some surprise as her own hands. One is in a fist, the other spread wide like a shield.

She buys a frame for it and hangs it in her office the next day.

“Shut up,” she says, fierce and polite, and swings him around and kisses him. He’s stunned still for only a moment.

He is, in fact, a frankly lovely kisser.

When she pulls away after a few moments, he stands there dazed, and then mumbles something that sounds like, “Seniority.”

“Oh good God,” Peggy says, and kisses him again. When she’s satisfied he’ll be quiet, she says, “Phillips is ancient and crotchety and hasn’t changed his textbook in twenty-five years. You, meanwhile, let them look at naked art and stand up to their parents and are bloody gorgeous. And even if you were useless, you’ll shut up and take it. I’ve earned this.”

“You really have,” he says, and kisses her this time, his hands smiling on her back. And then, long minutes later, “By the way. Who’s the HR/PR Disaster now?” His voice is glancingly smug, which cannot be allowed.

“That was four dollars worth of ingredients,” Steve says dazedly several hours later. He is coated lightly in flour as if he has forgotten to come out of the snow.

Peggy eyes the lumpy dough creature and says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to shoot it.”

They are two highly capable, mostly rational people. They have wedding rings and work and dinner dates and outings with friends and occasional couple’s espionage. They can cook nearly anything else by this point. There is no reason to be frustrated that they cannot conquer bread.

The next batch comes out of the oven looking perfect. It tastes only and exactly of yeast.

They host Thanksgiving because Bucky’s family wanted Christmas.

There are neat pieces of sushi as appetizers, a huge bowl of excellent mashed potatoes, and three perfect kinds of bread.

The turkey is half raw.

Bucky laughs ‘til he cries.

The girls are leaving first, so Steve stays with them while they pack up, the familiar trappings of the Star Spangled Show disappearing into crates, the familiar faces blurring beneath coats and hats.

The chaperone, Miss Lindon, is staring something fierce at him. (They’d almost driven off a cliff one midnight on a twisty road in California. Everyone else was squeezing hands and praying. Miss Lindon, firm and tidy in tweed, just turned the page of her book with a careful finger.)

He knows that Peggy is ninety-two years old. He knows that she just moved into a new nursing home last week. He knows that she is standing right in front of him, no more than a few years older than when he went into the ice. Dark hair, dark lipstick, dark jumpsuit, and his shield on her back.

Later, watching this Peggy, a shade away from what he knows, he realizes that she reminds him of no one as much as himself, shielding himself from the familiar and the unfamiliar and the memories most of all.

Having someone who understands is a very difficult sort of wonderful.

Natasha is the most off-put by how well Peggy knows them. Her stories have come slowly to Steve, each one a trust-gift. Peggy has her own collection, but for Natasha they are weapons held by someone she does not know.

No one could identify with the loneliness of waking up after the ice like Peggy could, the futile anger of knowing that everyone was gone and it was only him, surviving and surviving and surviving.

The next time Steve sees Thompson, he has fading bruises on either side of his jaw, and actually avoids Steve. As if Steve would hit him if he was just minding his own business.

“-And she said I needed to cut out half my footnotes, even though so much of the good stuff is there, and who doesn’t like extra footnotes? They’re like little knowledge presents!“ Willow finished, turning off the overhead light and enjoying the sound of her slippers shuffling against the carpet. Buffy was still out; she had a midterm the next day and Giles was quizzing her. She held the phone against her shoulder and pulled the covers down.

“Did you check for antennae? She might be a footnote hating alien.” It was the first time Oz had spoken in a while and she could hear the noise of the party the other Dingoes were having, but Willow never worried that he was getting distracted when she talked. The tone he used now was equilibrious as always, but the kind that curved upward a little in her mind and meant he was smiling.

She woke one morning with Steve’s voice, warm and content and loving, full of wonder, still settled over her like a shroud.

There were things that Peggy had not even known she could miss: slicing apples, newspapers, the moon and rain, handshakes, calendars.

There was a tenement sort of grimness to his voice that spoke of gritting teeth through long winters.

He had become less formal in her presence, knees and elbows expanding outward as he sat in a way that made him look somehow smaller, or at least softer.

She gripped at her tea. The all-purpose English remedy, she and Monty used to joke. Apply liberally to anything from gunshot wounds to heartbreak. It didn’t seem to be working.

Peggy reminded herself that she had quite handily survived a world war, and that there was no reason to behave swoonily just because Steve was being very visibly attractive in front of her.

Peggy tried to forget that the world war hadn’t prevented just the same thing the first time around.

“‘‘Twas I who chopped down the cherry tree’ and all that?” It sounded accidentally Shakespearean in her accent despite her wry tone.

Steve grinned in a way that was startlingly unrestrained, making Peggy realize just how much it had all been weighing on him. She hadn’t seen that grin since early 1945, and it was shameful for it to have been hidden so long.

“Fine,” he said, the way he did when things were not fine. It wasn’t that he was lying, but that he hadn’t yet realized that something was wrong.

Steve ran the miles home. The idea of cars felt condensed and awful.

She saw Barton farther down the street, half sitting, half sunbathing on top of one of the fire trucks.

In the bleary dark: “Why have you done so much to help us?”

A pause. “Because I can’t remember a time when I wished someone would help me.”

“Well, Evans, the thing about that man you married- and I love him like a brother and would kill anyone else who said this- is that he’s not very bright and sometimes exists with his head firmly hidden up his arse.”

“Hey, man, respect the skills of others. Maybe I can’t do any of that either, but I laugh in the face of the blue screen of death.”

There’s a feeling in her chest that reminds her of seeing Michael in his uniform for the first time, a ragged beat swallowing her thoughts for just a blank moment, whispering how much it would hurt to lose him.

He tells Peggy this after they’re adjourned for the day. She does not try to build him up or placate him. “They used to bury suspected vampires with stakes in their chests and bricks in their jaws even after they’d died,” she says instead, tilting her chin up at him.

She has the feeling that he’s from the type of family where handshake lessons were given on Monday from 2:30 to 4.

This woman sounds like she could buy and sell him a couple of times over, and he’s not entirely sure if he means literally or metaphorically.

“It’s good. I like it,” and somehow that’s worth paragraphs and paragraphs. It settles around her heart.

But Angel has had a few centuries to get used to how quickly things shift. He has no more lamentations for the eyeblinks that mean a change. Killing a young girl, seeing one on sunlit school steps; these things took seconds and changed everything.

His voice is hoarse and he speaks slowly, but his Russian is perfect, as if the language is something he stored in an attic chest, one he just creaked open to find it pristine.

Because although she has more responsibility than anyone he’s ever known, the weight of lives and lives, she also has her own, and it is such a young one. He wants to be sure that she doesn’t look with regret on these months spent with him, the cliffside love with someone whose life is endlessly futureless.

She’s been missing him all these months, she hasn’t even been tempted, never in all that time, and she’s not totally hideous, so there were some people trying to tempt. But she’s been waiting, it hasn’t even been a question, and he’s apparently been questioning all over the place if he was going to break his word, the last thing he said to her.

She goes Bronzing with the gang. She spends a couple nights hanging and talking with Will, where they dissect Oz’s latest three words, and try once again to figure out Cordelia and Xander, and don’t talk at all about Angel or about how this feels worse than the entire last year because they finally got to choose and they both chose to be apart. She gets a B+ on her English quiz.

Despite herself, Veronica is disappointed. She had wanted the rush from figuring out a puzzle, from outthinking a group of criminals with rap sheets long enough to ride the big roller coasters without a parent. Now she’s facing a woman who’s pulling the criminal equivalent of faking cramps to get out of gym.

#fic roundup #fic stuff #apologies about my hideous self congratulation #and for the WHACKED formatting #should be fixed now but let me know

3 notes · View notes