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Stocking: Nigmuff

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Nigmuff
Comics Steve/Tony: 616 (I like all canons, but I especially like early canon. Also, if you wanna write about Kooky Quartet era where the Avengers consist of Steve and three reformed villains who ALL HAVE A CRUSH on Steve (who does not reciprocate their crush, possibly because he himself is crushing on Mr Tony Stark; shenanigans ensue) THEN BY ALL MEANS GO AHEAD), Ults (<<<- I love a grumpy-but-soft Ults, yall. Bonus points if you manage to incorporate side characters.)
Other Fandoms/Ships/Characters:

-Avengers: EMH (Stony, Bruce/Clint, Jan/Hank)

-Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson (comics-verse, PLZ, I LOVE THEM)

-RWBY (anything to do with team JNPR, I love them and I want more content for them)

-Umbrella Academy (I want to read all about the Hargreeves' messed up family dynamics, but I also want them to have a strong bond with each other. Basically, I want them to have kind of a "I can make fun of you, but no one else can" attitude. MUST INCLUDE VANYA! Ben is optional. Preferably platonic; I don't mind having any canon ships, as long as they don't distract from the main family.)

-Jan Van Dyne/Wanda Maximoff (Ultimates)

-Squirrel Girl (powers of squirrel, powers of girl!!! Preferably platonic, and if you can include Iron Dad, I would love you, like, a whole lot.)

-Unstoppable Wasp (definitely platonic. I want whole series written about Nadia's relationships with Jan, Jarvis, Tony, and her friends.)

-Carmen Sandiego Netflix Series (I love a girl and her ninja assassin dad. I also love a BAMF Argent, and a plz-take-a-chill-pill Devineaux. I also like Carmen/Gram. Found family tropes ahoy. Go wild.)

Likes: fluff, competence kink, soft cuddles, mutual pining(!!!), found family/Avengers as family, shenanigans, Iron Dad!!!!, Cap Dad is also pretty swell, basically if Tony and Steve are just The Dads even when they aren't dating I just love that, soft touching, queer A/B/O verse (ex: alpha/alpha OR omega/omega), SOMFT THINGS, yes I want a fleece blanket in fic form plz and ty, cute tropes (I won't apologize and I don't accept con crit), kid fic, angst with happy endings, if you wanna write Stony as divorced husbands who end up fixing their marriage by the end PLZ DON'T LET ME STOP YOU, all the Christmas tropes, I'm talking family dinners, making enough turkey to feed three armies (or one Avengers team), presents, charoling, mistletoe, and also FAKE. FRIGGIN. DATING!!

I would love any type of fandom creation, be it playlist, fanvid, or interperative dance. You're amazing and your creations are amazing.

Dislikes: Unhappy endings are :( and you don't want me to make that face, do you???, permanent major character death, graphic torture, underage, mpreg, infidelity, explicit sex, beak ups (I only want the opposite of those, lol).

Non-fandom related requests/anything else?:

-History documentaries. I'm especially interested in anything to do with Russian or Arab history, but I love other stuff as well.

-Your favorite recipes. I'll eat anything except pork or alcohol.

-I! Love! Playlists!! Fandom or otherwise.

-Podcast recs. I'd like to listen to stuff while knitting XD

-Your favorite knitting patterns for scarves and/or shawls.

-What was some of your favorite music this year?? I love discovering new songs.

-Pet pics!!!! I love animals in general, and cats and dogs, but I really, really love horses. Do with this what you will.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I wrote you EMH christmas fluff! I hope you enjoy it. Here on AO3.

Muuuuuug! Happy wintertime! I got you a playlist! It’s for SQUIRREL GIRL!!

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl: She’s here to eat nuts and kick butts so you better hope she doesn’t run out of nuts
Total runtime: 59 minutes

🌰 Shrimp/Dessa
Standing on the acorn I planted
I trust that oak trees grow
ENFP Myers Briggs
6'2" in my highest kicks
Hero to the neighbor's kid

🌰 Kombucha/Winnetka Bowling League
It's time to swallow your Kombucha and pride
Yeah, why you always gotta rain on me and my vibes?

🌰 Jump on My Shoulders/AWOLNATION
I say we rob from the rich and blow down the door
On to the next to dance with the poor
Jump on my shoulders
You can jump on my shoulders

🌰 You Told the Drunks I Knew Karate/Zoey Van Goey
They chased us through the city center
They chased us out to the East End
We had to hide behind the supermarket
Until the sun came up again

🌰 Feel It Still/Portugal. The Man
Ooh, I'm a rebel just for kicks, now
I've been feeling it since 1966, now
Might be over now, but I feel it still

🌰 A Different Beat/Little Mix
Never in the slow lane cause I like it fast
No time waste so I keep both feet on the gas
I live it up, live it up, live it up, live it up, live it up
I might be young, but I know who I am

🌰 Suzie Noma/MDQ
Sitting at the corner
Me and Suzie Noma
We ain’t got no worries we are looking like the owners

🌰 Big Bite/Fallulah
Don't you love it? Don't you love it?
Don't you wanna take a big bite of it?
Life
Eat it like a cookie before it crumbles

🌰 Tempo/Lizzo
Pitty-pat, pitty-pat, pitty-pitty-pat
Look at my ass, it's fitty-fitty-fat
Kitty cat, kitty cat, kitty-kitty cat
Prrr me a glass, boy, I like my water wet

🌰 CHAMPION/Bishop Briggs
You gotta get bruised before you get mad
You gotta fall down before you fight back
Was feeling so weak but baby I'm strong
Little did I know I'm a champion
I’m a champion

🌰 Hope on Fire/Vienna Teng
Gotta move, gotta choose
You've got a difference to make
Ooh, you're gonna make your mark this time
Ooh, you're gonna set your hope on fire

🌰 Crazy, Classic, Life/Janelle Monáe
We don't need another ruler
All of my friends are kings
I'm not America's nightmare
I'm the American dream

🌰 Don’t Give Up/The Noisettes
Sometimes they’ll want to cut you down
Gotta scratch that itch, ’cause the time is now
When the system’s wrong, got to tear it down
Let it fall to the seabed like a rusty crown

🌰 Harlem/New Politics
When it gets loud, I turn it up
Oh, shake it like a bad girl up in Harlem

🌰 F9mily (You & Me)/Lil Nas X
You (Yes you, yes you) and me (And me)
Yeah we, make pods, we the peas
Now let's go (Let's go, let's go)

🌰 Shake It Off/Taylor Swift
I never miss a beat
I'm lightning on my feet
And that's what they don’t see, mm mm
I'm dancing on my own
I make the moves up as I go
And that's what they don't know, mm mm

🌰 Mambo Rap/Parov Stelar
My interests are Pinterest, Snapchat and Insta
Facebook, WhatsApp, the Mambo Rap

🌰 Cut To The Feeling/Carly Rae Jepsen
I wanna cut through the clouds, break the ceiling
I wanna dance on the roof, you and me alone
I wanna cut to the feeling, oh yeah

🌰 Don’t Stop Me Now/Queen
I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stopping me

I have....a lot of playlists :p As you well know! Some of this year's faves:
- one flesh, one end, bitch (a gideon the ninth fanmix; aggro and upbeat)
- soon it will be cold enough to build fires (a playlist of winter songs; melancholy and melodic)
- april may (spring songs; yearning and bright)

Aaaaaand if you want podcasts, well. I listen to a TON of podcasts. I'm not sure exactly what kind of thing you're looking for so I'll go ahead and provide a variety :D
Narrative fiction:
- Caravan: Caravan is an ongoing series BUT!!! It's so cute! Romance! Supernatural shenanigans! Accidental possession! Seeeexy vampires! Forced-together-by-evil-demons-so-now-we're-friends! Plus everyone's queer af.
- Wolf 359: A complete series! What happens when you put a slacker loser, an uptight commander, a mad scientist, and an AI with a lot of personality on a tiiiiiny space station, far, far away from any other human life. (Note: far from human life.) I literally laughed out loud on the subway listening to this podcast multiple times.

History:
- This Podcast Will Kill You: Two disease ecologists talk about medical history as well as how we treat disease today. The hosts are obviously friends, and their genuine interest in bacteriological evolution is incredibly endearing. Plus, they actually do engage with the fact that the same kinds of medical care aren't being offered everywhere in the world. Yay Drs. Erin!
- Revolutions: Several muuuuultipart series on different revolutions throughout history. The current series is about the Russian revolution -- 25 episodes so far. Previous series have covered revolutions in Spain, Haiti, France, and Mexico, among others.

Mini-Series:
- Moonrise: The backstory of how people made it to the moon. The moon!!! It does spend a nonzero amount of time talking about the complex ways Nazi scientists played into the feat (bad) but also has a, like, several episode long through-thread about the golden age of science fiction (hilarious!). Overall super charming and interesting!
- Articles of Interest: Fashion history oh boy!! Pockets, children's clothes, Hawaiian shirts, and the rise of casual wear. What more could you want??

If you want more podcast recs/have a more specific thing you're looking for, hmu any time <3 Happy winter :D

This playlist is EVERYTHING I COULD EVER WANT IN LIFE AND MORE, thank you T_T and there's more playlists? And podcasts and things???? Thank you so much <3<3<3<3<3<3

Hi Mug! I... Am not good at fluff so I ended up writing something that's maybe sadder than you'd like and if so, I'm sorry! It's some Klaus and Vanya bonding h/c.

-

Being woken up in the middle of the night is nothing new. Mission alarms or drills have been a regular part of their lives a far back as Vanya can remember and she is always expected to get up and join everyone, if only to stand at their father's side.

There's no alarm tonight, but Vanya is a light sleeper. Woken by the creek of the loose floorboards outside her room, the shuffling of feet, a voice muttering too low to make out the words.

Klaus is sneaking out again.

She feels a little guilty for noticing. If he doesn't show up at breakfast tomorrow, she knows she'll tell their father about this. They've all done it on occasion snuck out, or sold someone else out for it, in the hope of gaining their father's approval. Still, Klaus sneaks out all the time and she wishes he'd get better at the sneaking part of it.

He'll stumble in at breakfast still half drunk and their father won't even notice as long as he takes his seat and doesn't speak. It's the mornings he doesn't show up that puts their father in a foul mood.

Tonight though, she needn't worry. Klaus stops at her door. She hears it creak as he leans against it and the sound of sniffling and heavy breathing. Vanya waits for a moment, but Klaus doesn't leave and doesn't knock. She switches her lamp on and shuffles to the door.

He jolts when she opens it. Dazed, she thinks, like he might be high already, but he stands in yesterday's clothes, his makeup smudged and hair messy, like he's done nothing since last night's mission.

'What are you doing, Klaus?' She ask.

He looks at her, studying her face like you would a painting. He is silent, but not defiantly, as he often is with their father these days.

He looks ill, she thinks, but that's not unusual for him lately. Since their teenage years began, he has become gradually more gaunt, more sallow in complexion, more hidden behind those layers of makeup.

She wants to hug him, but that's not something they do in this family, and she's not brave enough to challenge that dynamic.

'Klaus? Are you okay?'

'She looks like you,' he says, staring into her face like he's never seen her before. Maybe he hasn't, not like he looks at her now. She doesn't think anyone has ever looked at her like Klaus is now; like he needs her, like she's important

'Klaus? What's going on?'

He holds a hand up, just above knee level. 'Just like you. When you were this big.'

'Who?' She knows the answer. She's never liked to think about it much and that's easy because he's never liked to talk about it much either.

'She won't stop crying.' His voice is strained and she thinks the girl has probably not been crying alone.

He reaches out, slowly, like he expects her to draw away, or to disappear. His hand comes to rest on her cheek and he breathes a slow sigh. A painful release of something she might never truly understand.

'I'm fine, Klaus. I promise. I'm here and I'm fine.' She takes his hand and leads him to her bed, where they sit in silence.

Klaus does let's go of her hand the whole night and Vanya doesn't try to make him.

At wake up call the next morning, Klaus let's go of her hand, smiles in a way that is both more strained and more genuine than anything she's ever seen from him before.

She sits next to him at breakfast from then on, but they never speak of that night again.

I love it, it's a perfect portrayal of their complicated relationships while living under this cruel and unusual father. Thanks!!!

Sa3ide, I have written you a thing! The Thing

You wrote me a thing! Thank you!!!!

Title: Who Wouldn’t Go?

Fandom: Marvel 616 (v3)
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: G
Wordcount: ~4,000
Tags: Fake Dating, Fluff, Christmas Fic
Notes: Happy fandom stocking, Big Mugs! I hope you enjoy these dummies fake dating at a fancy Christmas party. <3

Tony panicked for one second. That’s why he’s currently in this disaster. Sunset had been pushing at him, plucking at his weak spots, and he’d been feeling particularly alone and wistful, and he’d gotten the wires labeled “babble for time in front of Sunset Bain” and “guilty romantic fantasies,” crossed in his head.

Now he needs to ask Steve for a spectacularly embarrassing favor.

Steve is installed, cross-legged, on the living room floor next to the coffee table. It’s two weeks before Christmas and as usual Steve is determined to dress the tree properly. Spread in front of him are bowls of cloves, swags of gold-trimmed satin ribbon, and a mesh bag full of oranges.

He’s already made at least a hundred yards of cranberry and popcorn garland, and is now on to pomanders. While Tony procrastinates in the doorway, Steve wraps an orange in ribbon, then runs a chunky needle threaded with twine through the center of the fruit to make a loop for hanging. He turns the trussed-up orange in his big hands and presses cloves through the rind with an artist’s precise eye for distance and alignment.

“You know,” Tony says, tearing his attention away from Steve’s capable hands and entering the living room properly, “I was going to make tiny animatronic doves that sing Greensleeves, but this is pretty good too.”

Steve looks up at him and his face breaks into a smile that makes his entire face glow. Tony’s heart flutters, even though he knows Steve looks at everyone like that. Steve’s face is an open window into the bright core of goodness inside him. Even though it’s not special, not for him, Tony still wants to kiss that smile onto his face every night, wants to wake up and meet Steve’s gaze next to him in bed and see his eyes light up with love.

Down, boy, Tony thinks sternly. Now is not the time to be a besotted idiot.

Steve would never stoop to date Tony. Tony spent an agonizing six months hoping after learning that Steve wasn’t actually straight — the thing between Steve and Batroc the Leaper apparently ran hotter than typical hero-vs-villain banter — but eventually Tony had come to his stupid lovestruck senses, and realized that just because Steve was attracted to men didn’t mean he was attracted to Tony. Sure, Tony Stark is New York’s most eligible bachelor, but Steve knows the real Tony: messed up, alcoholic Tony who never feels strong unless he’s wrapped himself in steel.

“I’d love to see your robot birds,” Steve says warmly. “They’ll look nice with all the tinsel.”

Steve loves tinsel. The little silver strands get everywhere, but Tony can’t help but indulge Steve. Thor, a walking generator of static electricity, gets covered in the stuff and leaves tangles like metallic hair in the showers.

Now Tony has to make a few dozen lifelike, singing robot-doves before Christmas, because he wants Steve to look at his creations the way he looks at a tinsel-drenched tree, misty-eyed and happily sentimental.

Tony is not sentimental about his childhood Christmases. He’ll settle for basking in Steve’s nostalgia.

“Sit on down, come help me pincushion these poor oranges,” Steve says, patting the carpet next to him.

“My spine is not made of the same stuff yours is.”

Steve snorts. “Pretty sure mine is bone just like everyone else’s.”

“Incorrect,” Tony says. “Your spine is made of an amazing super-bendy-yet-load-bearing polymer that science has been unable to replicate so far. My back is made out of dry spaghetti and dust bunnies.”

Really, Tony is temporizing because sitting next to Steve on the floor, able to smell his aftershave, close enough to sneak a brush against his shoulder, is possibly the worst position for Tony to ask this favor from. Curse his stupid, stupid mouth.

Now it’s going to be awkward if he doesn’t sit.

“You could sit in my lap if that’s more comfortable. I’ve heard I make an excellent, if rather firm, cushion,” Steve jokes, patting one thigh. His cheeks go pink for some reason.

Tony considers taking Steve up on that option for exactly one self-indulgent nanosecond, then gets grabs both his heart and his libido by the scruff of the neck and hurls them out the window.

“It’s alright, I’ll take the floor and hope for a Christmas miracle to keep me away from the chiropractor,” Tony says quickly.

Steve hands Tony an orange to decorate. The smell of orange and cloves soaks into Tony’s hands, heady and festive. When these are all hung on the two-story silver fir in the foyer, the entire grand staircase will smell just like this.

Okay. Tony can do this. Just ask him.

“I need you to be my date for the Christmas Gala at the Rockefeller,” Tony says.

Don’t ask him like that!

“Not a real date,” Tony adds, and Steve sags with what Tony is certain is relief. “Sunset Bain was angling to be my plus one, and I had to think fast. I told her I was already going with you.”

What Tony had actually said was, “I’m in a relationship, I’m afraid,” which had made Sunset more interested, not less.

She’d pressed and pressed on who the lucky lady was, and Tony had realized that whoever he named would have all of Baintronics dropped on their head. And he couldn’t think of anyone who could handle that, and he’d been thinking about Steve, Steve cowing Sunset with a single look and a brusque speech about boundaries, and for one shining moment of idiocy Steve seemed like the perfect solution.

“Steve Rogers — he’s an artist,” Tony said. A small, reasonable portion of his mind screamed bad idea bad idea bad idea! even as his mouth formed the words. “You wouldn’t know of him.”

Sunset’s mouth had curled into a faux-sympathetic moue. Tony hated when that was how people reacted to the bisexual thing, it was like they thought he’d been afflicted with a terrible, incurable disease and wanted to be gentle about it. “Oh, I do see why you’ve kept it a secret. But at the gala? You certain you don’t want some cover?”

“No,” Tony’d said icily. He certainly wasn’t going to take Sunset as a beard. “Steve and I will be attending together.”

And with those thoughtless words, Tony landed himself in his current, terrible situation.

Tony has to make Steve agree somehow.

Steve fiddles with his clove-studded orange, twisting one of the dark brown buds until it’s too loose to stay in place. He sighs and sifts through the loose cloves, looking for one with a bigger stem, not quite looking at Tony. There’s color high in his cheeks. Tony has embarrassed Captain America: a new achievement for his collection.

Steve is going to say no, and Tony is going to be in hot water. Maybe he can get some other guy to come with him. Put an ad out in the paper for guys named Steve Rogers. New York is a big place — there have to be at least a few gay Steves who’ll jump at the chance to attend a fancy holiday party.

“If you want me, I’ll be there,” Steve says quietly.

Oh shit.

Tony wasn’t prepared for this eventuality either!

“It’d mean you’d have to come out,” Tony says, backtracking with a wince. “I can’t pressure you into -- that’s not fair of me, I’m sorry, I’ll find another excuse.”

Steve shrugs, then ties a perfect Tiffany bow at the top of his finished pomander. “If I go as Steve Rogers I’m just some guy. I’d be worried about yourself if I were you. You’re Tony Stark.”

“Everyone suspects anyway,” Tony says. Thank you, Ty, for that lovely nudge out of the closet, Tony totally appreciates it. “I’m just saying, it’s a lot just to fix a dumb mistake I made.”

“But it’ll help you?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” Tony replies, even as he knows this is going to break his fragile, smitten heart. Steve, on his arm, coming up with some sweet story of how they met, having to pretend to Steve afterwards that it had all been an act on Tony’s part as well, cock-blocked Tantalus hoist on his own petard.

“Then I’ll do it,” Steve says. “Anything for -- for a friend.”

And that’s all it is: friends. Tony is going to hide every single one of his feelings, put on his playboy persona, and get through this as unscathed as possible.

I’m doomed.

When they arrive at the holiday gala, Tony expects the ambush of lurking photographers outside, but not the elegant rescue by New York’s gay elite. They close ranks around him and Steve, gracious, friendly, and impenetrable. He had been expecting to come out alone, Tony realizes. These people won’t let that happen. They’ve been waiting for him to join them.

“Edie!” Tony says, delighted, when she bustles up. He bends to exchange air kisses.

“Took you long enough,” Edie says, then chuckles and pats Tony on both shoulders. “Good. You look happy.”

“I am,” Tony says. “Steve, this is Edie Windsor, the best of the little old lesbians.”

They enter the ballroom in a swirl of introductions and brightly-colored dresses.

Inside, the Rockefeller is decorated in gold, cream and burgundy. Tony watches Steve spin around, taking in the grand foyer and sparkling cut-crystal chandeliers. Steve’s been to all sorts of fundraisers and high-society events, but usually as Cap, not Steve. Cap doesn’t get to be delighted by beautiful things.

There’s a towering croquembouche serving as the centerpiece of the refreshments table, cream puffs stacked six feet high, glazed in caramel and dusted with powdered sugar. The theme of tonight’s menu seems to be French patisserie, evidenced by flaky pastry and custard on every plate.

It’s exactly like every other charity dinner, except it’s nothing like them, because Steve is at his elbow the entire time, charming people and doing embarrassing things like pulling Tony’s chair out for him.

Playboy, Tony reminds himself. Tony Stark found someone beautiful to be on his arm for a night, like he always does. You’re indulging an infatuation. Steve isn’t anything to you but proof you can have anyone.

Tony pats Steve’s arm and tries to appear breezy and maybe a little bit condescending. Steve Rogers is a handsome dalliance, nobody special, just up-and-coming artist who’s never seen luxury like this.

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him, silently asking, why are you being weird?

Tony folds immediately, flashing Steve his real grin and bumping up against his shoulder, like they’re playing Risk at the mansion coffee table and there isn’t space on the couch for two superheroes to sit without touching.

His plan to keep things casual hasn’t survived even brief contact with the enemy. It’s a familiar feeling, but usually the adversary is the Melter or something, not his own emotions.

Tony realizes about halfway through dinner that he hasn’t been offered alcohol once all night. Steve’s been deflecting it for him, so skillfully that Tony didn’t even notice. He just didn’t have to think about it for an entire cocktail hour. He’d never had a date do that for him so well. He glances at Steve, who is chatting happily with his neighbor at the table, about the intersection between modern art and technology. Steve makes an insightful point about machine learning, and Tony wonders where he picked up an interest in that.

Then he remembers a rainy afternoon curled up in the library with his laptop while Steve read the latest Octavia Butler collection nearby. The suit’s auto-targeting system was being buggy, and Tony had been mumbling at his code without really noticing that he was doing it until Steve asked a question.

“So how does your suit know who’s an AIM soldier and who’s an Avenger?”

Tony had jumped a bit, then apologized for being distracting, then discovered that Steve’s question was a genuine one.

“It’s a combination of computer vision and me manually picking out targets. Ideally every time I shoot at something it adds that to the database of what’s an enemy and then extrapolates from there, but we’ve been fighting a lot of AIM beekeepers lately and the suit has decided that it hates everything yellow.”

Steve laughed. “After punching enough of those guys, I start hating yellow too.”

“Who wouldn’t? But I’d still like the AI to stop putting crosshairs on every fire hydrant and yield sign.”

Steve asked how he was going to fix that, so Tony had kept up a steady chatter as he went back to coding, assuming that Steve had tuned him out after a few minutes. But he hadn’t -- Steve is still talking about it, stuff Tony only half-remembers saying aloud, as if he’s actually interested in this stuff.

Steve turns and catches Tony staring. He smiles, and for a moment that’s all there is in the world; Steve’s smile is like the sun on Tony’s face as he lifts the faceplate after a long, dim flight.

“Where’d you learn all this?” asks the man beside Steve.

“Tony,” Steve says. “He’s an inspiration to me, every day of my life.”

Tony blushes. Laying it on a little thick, Steve. It almost sounds real, when Steve says things like that.

Steve’s just so damn handsome in his suit. Tony wants to peel it off of him and kiss him all over. It’s bad enough that Steve is wearing clothes that Tony helped him pick out -- balancing elegance and Steve’s cover as an artist. They’d picked a slightly retro cut for Steve with a truly lovely camel overcoat and fawn driving gloves. Tony hadn’t told Steve how much any of it had cost, shuffling him out of the cedar-scented tailor’s shop before any of the delicate dance around credit cards and prices.

After dinner there’s a few speeches, and then more mingling and dancing while a band plays jazzy Christmas tunes.

Tony doesn’t intend to dance with Steve. He knows that’s an express train to hopeless yearning. Steve is good at dancing. Tony’s had lessons since he was old enough to put on his own shoes, but nobody can measure up to Steve’s natural grace.

But then Tony catches sight of Sunset across the room, and he’s not up for exes. Not when tonight has gone so well so far.

“Care to dance with me?” Tony asks, offering a hand.

Steve puts down the delicate little pastry he’s been munching on and nods. Tony thinks his face might betray literally everything. He’s not that good of an actor. Steve will be able to sense that this is awfully, pathetically real for Tony. Steve looks around for a napkin to wipe away the few crumbs, comes up with nothing, and then -- oh, hell, this isn’t fair -- guiltily licks his fingers.

“Sorry,” he says, thankfully mistaking Tony’s brain having a series of electrical shorts for disapproval about his manners.

Then he takes Tony’s hand, gentle and almost bashful.

Steve is as perfect at dancing as Tony expected. He takes the lead naturally, and Tony lets him, happy to follow. It takes almost an entire song for Steve to realize that he’s dancing with a man and he stutters, trying to let Tony lead for a moment and knocking their knees together.

“Should have asked,” Steve apologizes, spinning Tony deftly towards the corner of the dance floor so they don’t get in anyone’s way. “Haven’t done this with a guy before, really.”

“You keep on just as you were,” Tony says, running one hand over Steve’s shoulder to straighten an imaginary imperfection in his lapel. “I’ll teach you to follow some other time.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says, then looks away and chews his lip as he realizes their mistake. Tony wants to shut his eyes and melt into the marble pillar behind him. There won’t be some other time. This is it.

The song ends, to scattered polite applause.

Steve takes Tony back into his arms and draws him out onto the dance floor for another round. It’s something slow and yearning, exactly what Tony doesn’t need. It’s too late; Tony can’t bring himself to pull away now. He’s just going to have to carry on and break his own heart.

Tony leans into Steve’s broad chest and feels like Cinderella. He should have come as Iron Man -- then he could lose his right thruster boot on the steps and Steve would have to scour the city, searching for someone with a men’s size ten and a half. Too bad Steve already knows who Iron Man is; that would have been very romantic.

“I wish this were real,” Tony whispers, tired and raw from pretending to have what he’s wanted for so long. “Somebody who loved me enough to come out, something just -- easy.”

Steve will understand. He’s watched every relationship where Tony got rolled like the love-blind idiot he is. Tony can say this and Steve won’t guess who it’s really about. And Steve won’t make fun of him for being soft, because Steve is good and kind and more than someone like Tony can ever deserves. He can tell Steve that he wants to be held like this every night.

Steve swallows and clears his throat. “You’ll find that. I promise, Tony. And until then, you can have me.”

“Only until midnight,” Tony says with a sigh. “Then you’re going to turn into a pumpkin.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how the story goes.”

“Wanda is my fairy godmother. She made you out of a scarecrow wrapped in an American flag. I should have told you before.”

“Whatever you say, Shellhead,” Steve says, quietly enough that nobody around can hear the incriminating nickname. Tony thinks he feels Steve turn his head to kiss Tony’s hair above his ear, but Steve must just be scanning the perimeter. Surely -- surely he wouldn’t do that just for appearances. It can’t be, no matter how much he wishes --

Tony’s never going to know, because at that moment half a dozen goons in AIM beekeeper suits crash through a window, riding genetically modified reindeer. Instead of yellow, the uniforms are dyed a festive green. Of course.

I guess this is happening now. Might as well.

At least it will free Tony from his self-inflicted romantic agony.

“You finally asked Steve out and you didn’t tell me?” Jan says, kicking Tony’s ankle under the breakfast table.

“I didn’t!” Tony protests, startled and pre-coffee.

“That’s not what I heard,” Jan says, taking a large bite of Boston cream doughnut. When Tony tries to explain, Jan waves the remaining half doughnut at him to shut up and keeps talking, mouth full. “Got a call that there’d be some Avengers public relations wrangling coming up with respect to you, specifically with respect to your date to the Rockefeller Christmas Gala vis a vis his gender. And then I learn from Instagram that it’s Steve!”

“It’s not -- “

“Are we even friends, Tony? Friends tell friends when they go on dates with men they’ve been pining over for years!”

“Years?” Tony croaks, because while Jan is technically correct about the duration of Tony’s crush, he never told her anything of the sort. He’d kept the whole Steve situation under wraps, even to the Avengers, out of fear that he’d disrupt the team dynamic and also to spare everyone a lot of embarrassment.

Now, Tony wishes he’d told Jan about this plan. That way she wouldn’t be teasing him about it when he’s already sore from the party, and also sore from taking a rack of AIM-deer antlers to the chest last night. Tony is one big tender spot this morning.

“I’m happy for you, you big dummy,” Jan says, then takes another bite of doughnut, beaming at him while she chews.

“I didn’t ask Steve on a date!” Tony says. Jan’s face falls. Tony hates to disappoint Jan, but if it’s any consolation Tony’s plenty disappointed too.

“Not a real one -- it’s not like that, we’re not like that. I needed someone to ward off Sunset, and he wanted to help. We’re not dating,” Tony explains miserably.

To Tony’s surprise, Jan reaches for his hand and says, “Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry! It’s fine you made a mistake about me and Steve. It’ll be a good story, you know? That time we pretended to be together to save my reputation.” Tony laughs and tries to grin but it comes out misty-eyed.

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” Jan asks, ignoring Tony’s flawless explanation and squeezing both his hands with her own.

“We’re just friends,” Tony protests. “And if I told him something, he wouldn’t want me back. So there’s no point.”

“Here,” Jan says, pushing a glossy photo of Steve and Tony towards him, weaving it around the orange juice and the box of doughnuts on the table. It looks like Jan’s torn a page out of a daily gossip rag to show everyone.

“Look at Steve’s face,” Jan says.

Steve does look awfully happy. Nobody is obviously watching him; Tony isn’t even paying attention, he’s shaking Fujiwara’s hand and probably saying something about Stark International. Steve’s wearing a small, wistful smile, and his hand is tucked against the small of Tony’s back. To the uninformed observer, they could be a couple in the blush of early love.

At that moment, Steve walks in. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, still wet from a shower. He leans over Tony to pick up the orange juice and pour himself a glass, then rests a friendly hand on Tony’s shoulder, looking down at the picture.

“Look at that, it’s us,” Steve says, and he’s wearing the same small, wistful smile from the picture in real life.

Jan makes significant eye contact with Tony that clearly conveys do you see this proving my point?

“We make quite the convincing act, don’t we?” Tony says. He’ll never admit it, but he loves Steve’s casual touch. Sometimes he pretends that it’s more than camaraderie. When he’s feeling especially weak he imagines that this is what it would be like if they’d been together for years, easy and domestic together every morning.

Jan mouths, you idiot, tell him!

Steve chuckles, then sighs and takes his hand away. “Wish I could stay, but I’ve got to go volunteer at the library.”

As he goes, he pauses and reaches out to tuck a curl of Tony’s hair into place over his ear, in the exact place he’d almost-maybe brushed a kiss the night before. Tony clamps down on his reflex to shiver.

Across the table, Jan’s eyebrows rise.

“Uh -- bit of lint,” Steve says, going pink. “I got it.”

The thing that breaks the delicate balance between Steve and Tony isn’t Jan’s unsubtle encouraging looks, nor is it the explosion of Twitter speculation in the days following the gala. It’s the unholy ubiquity of Christmas carols.

Tony’s sitting in the living room a few days later, flipping through the manual for the television and trying to figure out what he has to rewire to make the universal remote’s volume buttons finally work. Steve is at the table, hand-writing Christmas cards. The radio pipes O Holy Nights and Jingle Bell Discos over the tableau.

Then the song changes to something familiar -- the same song Steve and Tony had danced to. Tony looks instinctively to Steve and finds Steve looking right back at him. They hang in agonizing stillness, the moment teetering in unstable equilibrium.

Steve screws the cap back onto his pen and sets it down on the table. The click is crisp under the familiar melody.

Tony’s voice is rough even to his own ears.

“Care to dance?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

OMGGGGGGGGG IT'S PERFECT IT'S SO PERFECT

THEY'RE SO OBVIOUSLY IN LOVE! TONY'S INSECURITY! REFERENCING ALL OF HIS PAST, SHITTY RELATIONSHIPS! STEVE PROTECTING TONY FROM THE EVIL SUNSET BAIN! And then you added that whole bit with the solidarity of the lgbt scene in New York, and I CRY. And Jan, my love! This fic is so perfect I CAN'T

I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT!!!

I couldn't not give you fake dating fluff, you deserve it! And it was really fun to write our stupid superhero boys being soft and pining and where everything's Christmas and nothing hurts.

And of course I added a hat-tip to gays protecting gays, I couldn't help myself :P

<33333333

Happy New Year, Nigmuff!

I thought you might like this picture I took of you and Cake at the party... things were getting pretty wild, weren't they! :D

http://www.dm-gremlin.com/stuff/imagespace/200106-mugcake-edit.jpg

(Actually, I got a piece of cheesecake from the Mexican bakery up the street, and sat down with that and tea, and realized I had mug and cake, and had to take a snapshot. The mug is my Crazy Bird Lady mug that a friend from one of my Facebook bird groups sent me for a Secret Santa gift a couple of years ago, and I use it all the time. :D )

And then I saw in your stocking that you especially love horses!

http://www.dm-gremlin.com/stuff/imagespace/200106-framed-Oreo.jpg

I grew up a horse-crazy little girl who was lucky enough to get to take riding lessons, then teach riding lessons, then eventually have my own horse for a few years. I had to sell her when I moved away to go to music school, though. Her name was Oreo (Double C's Oreo), and she was a registered Appaloosa mare, who by a serious coincidence, was the daughter of the horse I learned to ride on, a sweet red roan Appy named Trinket. Orry was full of sass and a lot of fun. I have way better photos of her, but they're packed away right now, and this one is the only one I had within reach - a picture someone framed for me, so I took a photo of the framed photo for you! Definitely not the best picture of her, with her ears all down like this, but at the same time, it's very much her sulky, side-eye expression. So I thought I would share a little bit of horsey with you.

:greenhearts: and :cheertacles:
--wynnesome

first of all, how dare you take a picture of us without our permission! it was just coffee! we're just friends!!! (i'm laughing so much, omg)

and the good horsie picture, thank youuuuuuuu!! my horse-crazy heart is fed

Ahahaha, I paparazzi'd you and cake, yep!
Just coffee, just friends, oh, no, you're not skating by on that... :P

Glad you got a good laugh and that I could give you a little horsey in your day. My Oreo girl was a good sassy appy girl. :D

LOL oh Wyn. XD

please enjoy this tony and doreen, just havin' fun, hanging out

https://66.media.tumblr.com/a03d7689c4601294c1434cbab7a88002/221a649d2ba47ea9-b3/s500x750/ff54148bf040109e3e037ea28e51044c67c934ce.png

also here is a kitten: https://66.media.tumblr.com/4034cf8fa586acf0c5702797e13c8462/c852777f962cbfc7-b0/s640x960/ce01354793104fe2afa2353803e69d9e18c3e051.jpg

tony and doreen! and kitty!!! thank you <3

Since you mention you like Podcasts, I wonder if you've ever heard of this one:

Welcome To Night Vale

It's offbeat and it gets to be pretty fun and dramatic. And if you get into it, there is wonderful fic to be read, too.

If that's not to your taste, then there are these photos of beautiful horses running free:

https://www.pexels.com/search/horses/

Gorgeous, aren't they? :-)

Or in case you haven't seen this art of Steve & Tony from 1872 before, this is beautiful too!

Fanart by luosong

I hope you enjoy these! ♥

Dear Mug,

Music things I've been into this year <333

Phoria - Evolve
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYhbA8EblsA

Nothing More - Go To War
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q6c8X_s1h9Y

Villain of the Story - Peace of Mind
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxde0a-ByII

Art of Dying - Best I Can
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39NxFuvc3fg

Ilinca & Alex Florea - Yodel it!
(LOOK OKAY THIS WAS EUROVISION TWO YEARS AGO BUT I'M STILL NOT OVER IT)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlDzaRK8fSM

Snow Ghosts - And The World Was Gone
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcJt4wNeYN0

Tokyo Police Club - Wait Up (Boots of Danger)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAxRozTgoXM

Phildel - Storm Song
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEXwpBoIq_Q

Kristian Leontiou - Story Of My Life
(HICKMANVENGERS FEELS)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u01UPlWoqWc

and mandatory k-pop entry:
Hinapia - Drip
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_qrsewuTwo

<333

Mizzy xxxx

Hi Mug, thank you so much for being a part of the server! You are always so sweet and I really appreciate it ♥ I will see you around in the new year!

Hi Mug! You're such a gem, and such a nice person <3 I truly adore your ideas, I can't wait to read everything about them and to read everything you'll write ♥ I'm still behind on the ones you already have, but I will get to it.

Here are some of my fav songs!
Broken Bones by Kaleo (the entire album is da bomb)
Save Yourself by Kaleo ( no really, the entire album is amazing)
Golden by Harry Styles
She by Harry Styles
Women by Harry Styles
Afterglow by Taylor Swift (honestly, her whole album... Mug... I'm in love, and also, more than half of the songs are stevetony... like this one it post CW......)
False God by Taylor Swift
Daylight by Taylor Swift (really, really,,,)
Dancing with our hands tied by Taylor Swift
Call it what you want by Taylor Swift (okay I'll stop here)
Somewhere by Within Temptation
Once upon a nightmare by Epica (one of my fav songs ever)

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Stocking: Nigmuff

Christmas Mouse

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Umbrella Academy - Vanya & Klaus Bonding

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616 Steve/Tony: Fake Dating

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Happy Stalking!

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Music <33

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