Chicken Soup by osprey_archer[Agent Carter; Jack & Peggy & Daniel, H/C and hospitals]
After Jack Thompson is shot, Peggy and Daniel bring him soup in the hospital. Jack tries to believe that he doesn’t want or deserve it.
(Daniel and Peggy look after Jack in the hospital and Jack has MANY FEELINGS about it and mostly fails to repress them. This does such a lovely job of capturing that sharp, bickery edge to their relationships, and Jack’s various emotional dilemmas are so wonderfully drawn.)
It’s Not a Competition by scioscribe [Iron Fist; Ward & Danny, H/C and poisoning]
“First time for everything,” Ward said wearily. “We get the dungeon with the tasting menu.”
(Danny and Ward are locked up together, and served food that might be poison. Ward is wonderfully snarky and self-sacrificing and casually brave, and their relationship is SO lovely, with the care and half-hidden affection and all the things they’re willing to risk for each other.)
Strawberries on Mountaintops by sholio [Iron Fist; Ward & Danny & Colleen, fluff and friendship]
“We used to pick strawberries in K'un-Lun,” Danny said with a reminiscing expression. “Usually from Master Li’s garden because the ones on the mountainside were tiny and sour. Then we’d get beaten when we got caught –”
“Right. I’m making sure you have strawberry shortcake the next time we stop somewhere that sells it.”
(Ward and Colleen make strawberry shortcake for Danny, and incidentally give me a METRIC TON of feelings about family and caretaking and reconciliation and doing things right this time around. This is so lovely and warm and domestic.)
Ficlets that I wrote:
Birthday Dinner [Iron Fist, Ward & Colleen, domestic fluff and bickering]
Ward and Colleen cook a birthday dinner for Danny, and try to avoid murdering each other in the process.
Chicken Noodle [Iron Fist, Ward & Danny, humor and dubious foodstuffs]
“There’s no way in hell I’m eating that,” Ward said.
Year-End Reports [Agent Carter, Peggy, Jack, & Daniel, mild h/c]
Jack is working late; Peggy and Daniel bring him dinner.
A Damn Fine Cup of Coffee [Agent Carter, Peggy/Jack/Daniel, domestic fluff]
“So that dishwater you used to inflict on us back in New York was on purpose,” Jack said.
....and also a couple of WIP Wednesday snippets, since it's been a while since I've posted any and I'm actually working on new fic for a change.
From an Agent Carter OT3 fic:
In reality, Peggy thought with a certain amount of bitter humor, they had all been orbiting around the idea of something that none of them wanted to put words to. Jack always got a hotel room when he flew in, but he nearly always ended up sleeping in Daniel’s spare room. She’d become used to the sight of him in the kitchen early in the morning, to the way he cast soft looks toward the both of them when he thought they weren’t paying attention. There was an easy domesticity to those mornings, an intimacy; she’d long since stopped trying to hide the fact that she spent most nights in Daniel’s bed, and sometimes she would perch on the counter with a cup of tea and watch the two of them trade affectionate insults over coffee and briefing reports and think maybe, just maybe…
And now this.
From an Iron Fist fic about Ward and superpowers that's getting entirely out of control:
People who fall eighty-five stories don’t look human anymore after they hit the pavement. Harold never had a funeral after his third and final death, but if he had, it would definitely have been closed-casket. Sometimes Ward imagines his corpse trying to resurrect itself inside the body bag the coroners scraped him into, pulverized flesh and shattered bone knitting back together in the putrid darkness. It’s the kind of thought he usually tries to avoid because it makes him want to throw up. Though, as it turns out, not nearly as much as the idea of it being Danny’s body smashed on the sidewalk below.