Steggy Week is a celebration of the Steve Rogers/Peggy Carter ship in all forms: comics, film/television, or animation.
How to participate
pick a theme (as many as you like!)
make a fanwork* based on that theme
post it on the theme day
tag it with #steggyweek26 and @steggyfanevents
*Fanworks can be anything: fic, art, graphics, gifs, videos, playlists, moodboards, headcanons, meta, and more. If it’s pro-Steggy, we’re happy to see it and share it!
Don’t feel like making anything? Try compiling a rec list, making a poll, or sending a few prompts. Check out the #steggyweek26 tag to comment on and reblog fanworks. Steggy Week is for everyone!
Don’t forget to reblog this post and spread the word about the event!
Steggy Week 2026 Themes
Day 1 (Monday) | Tropes and genres
Day 2 (Tuesday) | Outsider POV
Day 3 (Wednesday) | AUs and crossovers
Day 4 (Thursday) | Missing scenes and favourite moments
Day 5 (Friday) | WIPs and updates
Day 6 (Saturday) | Countdown to Doomsday
to celebrate our best girl’s birthday, PEGGYNET is happy to announce its third PEGGY CARTER APPRECIATION WEEK! from May 10-16th, we will be hosting an event for all types of creators (ficwriters, fanartists, gifmakers, etc.) and their creations centered around Peggy Carter from Marvel!
to participate, all you need to do is to reblog this post and share your work with the tag #peggyweek2026! the event will have both visual and writing prompts, but feel free to mix and match as your heart desires!
✦ day one (may 10th) agent carter's season 2 10th anniversary
✦ day two (may 11th) multiverse or WIPs
✦ day three (may 12th) present time, cold war and/or wartime
✦ day four (may 13th) family, friends and/or enemies
✦ day five (may 14th) doomsday
✦ day six (may 15th) Hayley Atwell appreciation or missing scenes
✦ day seven (may 16th) birthday extravaganza | free choice
if you have any questions about this event or anything else, don’t be afraid to contact us! and a reminder: we’re still looking for members and affiliates, so if you’re interested in that, APPLY now!
Hi @commandersnips41, I'm your @steggyfanevents Secret Santa!
Since you said your favorite era was post-Endgame, I wrote something for Steve and Peggy's first Christmas together after they get married. I hope you enjoy!
“Well, if you can’t figure it out, I guess you’ll just have to wait until Christmas morning.”
This is my @steggyfanevents Steggy Secret Santa 2025 gift for @randomwholocker! Happy New Year, and I hope you had a great holiday season!
The fanart is actually my official gift, but I wrote an accompanying fic too!
Summary: This year Steve had decided there was going to be at least one present Peggy definitely wasn’t going to figure out ahead of time.
Rating: PG
Read it on AO3
Excerpt:
December 1953
“What in God’s name is in this?”
Steve grinned at the implausibly-shaped gift Peggy was holding up. “Well,” he told her, reasonably, “if you can’t figure it out, I guess you’ll just have to wait until Christmas morning.”
They were partaking in one of Peggy’s favourite childhood traditions: sitting on the floor next to their tree, trying to guess what was inside all their gifts. Peggy and her brother Michael had, naturally, kept formal score of who got the most right every year - but Peggy had informed Steve, their first Christmas together, that she had no need to lord her successes over him.
Steve had suppressed a grin at both the entirely reasonable assessment of who would likely win and the poorly concealed gloat about it, and they'd agreed to guess just for the sake of guessing. He strongly suspected that she actually did keep score on Christmas morning, but so far in their four years of marriage she’d kept her yearly triumphs to herself.
Still, this year he’d decided that there was going to be one present she definitely wasn’t going to figure out ahead of time.
“You look rather smug, Rogers.” Peggy’s dimples appeared as she regarded the gift, her lips quirking upwards. “Am I to understand that you’re challenging my deduction skills?”
Steve was almost completely sure he hadn’t left a trail for her to follow, but he was married to the director of one of the world’s premiere intelligence agencies, and he’d certainly seen her do more with less. “Yep,” he told her with more confidence than he suddenly felt. “But outside detective work isn’t fair, Director Carter. You have to guess from the package itself.” He considered. “Or from asking questions, but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer them.”
“Not answering often says just as much, or more, than answering, you know,” she told him solemnly, although there was a grin hiding at the corners of her mouth.
Steve made a face. “That’s what Natasha always said.”
Peggy laughed. He’d been a bit worried, at first, that Peggy might be jealous of how close he and Natasha had been, that maybe she wouldn’t want to hear anything about her - and then he’d seen her own relationship with Edwin Jarvis and realized that she completely understood the sort of strong, platonic friendship he and Nat had shared. “And she was right. You should have listened.”
Thank you to everyone who participated this year! We had quite a number of new participants, which is always exciting to see.
Today is the last official day of gift posting. Starting January 2, the exchange elves will review our list of matches and gifts posted.
If we can’t find the gift you made, and you haven’t already been in touch with us about being late, one of our mods will contact you to check in.
If you will be late posting your gift:
Send your giftee a message to let them know when you plan to post the gift. It doesn’t have to be anonymous, since the gifting period is over.
Send us an email or an ask to let us know when you plan to post the gift. Please use the Tumblr username or the email you used to sign up.
If you need to drop out of the exchange:
Send us an email or an ask, so that we can take you off the list and start looking for a pinch hitter. Please use the Tumblr username or the email you used to sign up.
Thanks for your help in ensuring everyone receives a gift!
Happy @steggyfanevents Secret Santa @roboticonography!! I hope you enjoy this little canon-divergent sickfic I wrote for you!!
Here's a little preview:
Steve knew what it meant to be sick. As a child, he had missed more days of school than he could count, his asthma making every cold or flu more difficult to recover from. When Howard’s experiment had worked, the first thing he realized was how easy it was to breathe. He hadn’t been sick during the war, not even when pneumonia took out half the Howling Commandos for a week in the winter of 1943. Howard had hypothesized that a stronger immune system was another result of the serum, but they hadn’t needed to test his theory since he had pulled Steve out of the ice six months earlier.
Hey @doctorhelena!! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this for @steggyfanevents!! I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the fic here or on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/76352396
all the ways you knock me breathless
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Los Angeles, 1947 (Agent Carter Season 2)
Bernard the flamingo was staring at him again.
Steve paused halfway down the stairs of Howard Stark’s ostentatious Los Angeles home, Howard called it a “residence”; Steve called it a mansion, and made eye contact with the bright pink flamingo currently standing in the foyer for no reason other than “he likes the acoustics in here.” Howard said that with a straight face. Howard could say anything with a straight face when he was proud of himself.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Steve muttered, trying to sidestep Bernard’s accusing gaze. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
Bernard, beak gleaming, absolutely judged him anyway.
Steve sighed. “I know it’s date night. I’m going.”
Bernard said nothing, as flamingos generally do, but the silence felt pointed.
a few hours earlier
Peggy answered her desk phone at the SSR like she was picking up a live grenade.
“Carter,” she said crisply, posture perfect, voice clipped, completely not-betraying that her heart always did a soft, embarrassing swoop whenever a certain miraculously alive, very secret boyfriend called her during work hours.
On the other end, Steve pitched his voice lower, softer, the tone he used only for her. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Peggy nearly flung the receiver across the office.
“Can’t use that word,” she hissed under her breath, eyes darting to where Sousa was rummaging through case files and where Rose was typing with the competence of ten very caffeinated women. “I am at work.”
“I know,” Steve said, far too amused. “I can hear you glaring.”
“I am not glaring.”
“You’re definitely glaring.”
Peggy smiled despite herself, shoulders loosening. “What do you need?”
“Well,” Steve said, drawling just a little, “I was thinking I could take the most remarkable woman I know to dinner tonight. Somewhere with food that isn’t from Howard’s fridge.”
Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told him to label that jar.”
“I know. He told you he would,” Steve said. “And then he stuck a pink note on it that said ‘danger?’ with a question mark.”
“That man should not be allowed near chemicals.” She leaned closer to the receiver. “Where?”
“Santorini’s. Eight o’clock.”
Her heart fluttered. He always picked places with dim lights and dance floors, the one indulgence they allowed themselves in public. “Eight,” she murmured. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ll have the blue dress smuggled to you so you can work late if you need to,” he said quietly, the warmth in his voice enough to turn her spine into something unreliable. “You look beautiful in it.”
Peggy forced a professional tone, even as she blushed. “Rog— I swear—“
“See you tonight,” he said, smug that he had her flustered enough to almost let his name slip out at work.
She hung up before she could accidentally call him darling.
several hours later
Steve arrived at their spot ten minutes early because he was built from old-fashioned duty and pathological punctuality.
He’d worn a suit, not Stark-flashy, just clean and dark and a little sharp around the shoulders. He didn’t look like Captain America tonight. He looked like someone who wanted to hold Peggy Carter’s hand under a restaurant table.
Eight o’clock passed.
Then eight fifteen.
Then eight thirty.
Peggy was never late unless something had gone truly wrong.
Peggy was never late unless something had gone truly wrong.
His stomach twisted. He tossed cash on the table and stepped into the street.
“Please just be a lead,” he murmured to himself as he jogged toward the distant parking lot. “Please just be work. Please don’t be—“
A metallic thud cut into his thoughts.
Steve froze.
There, in an alleyway, was Peggy Carter, his Peggy, in her blue dress, hair that was perfectly curled now mussed, lipstick immaculate, expression murderous, knee planted on Rufus Hunt’s chest as she yanked him up by the lapels and slammed him back into the pavement with efficiency born from experience.
Hunt groaned. Peggy didn’t.
Steve’s jaw dropped. “Peg?”
She looked over her shoulder, only slightly out of breath. “Darling. You’re early.”
“It’s— it’s eight thirty.”
“Oh.” She blinked, then punched Rufus Hunt across the jaw with the air of someone turning off a lamp. “Well, he was following me from the office. Tried to drag me in here. That was rude.”
Hunt slumped motionless.
Peggy stood, smoothing her dress, only a touch disheveled, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and absolutely, devastatingly stunning.
Steve’s brain short-circuited.
“I’m ready for dinner now,” she said, brushing her hands together.
Steve stepped toward her, voice hoarse. “I have never been more attracted to you in my life.”
Peggy’s lips curled. “Is that so?”
“Peggy,” he whispered, grabbing her waist like he was afraid she’d vanish, “you took out Rufus Hunt in heels.”
“It was barely an inconvenience.”
“I want to kiss you breathless.”
Her smile was slow and victorious. “Then you’d better walk me to the car.”
thirty minutes later
They arrived at Santorini’s an hour late and entirely unapologetic.
Peggy’s hand stayed in his under the table. Steve kept brushing his thumb along her palm and finding excuses to touch her. At one point, she leaned in to murmur a joke about Howard’s last disastrous gala and Steve nearly choked on his drink.
They danced, closely, quietly, like two people dancing together for the last time. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her temple under the soft temple lights.
The band played something slow. Peggy swayed against him, and Steve closed his eyes, memorizing the moment like he always did.
Later, when she kissed him outside the car, he kissed back with all the relief he’d swallowed earlier.
the bernard situation
They crept into the Stark residence near midnight, whispering and laughing, shoes in hand, trying to be silent.
A terrible idea, because Howard Stark lived here.
They tiptoed through the hallway…
…and froze at the unmistakable silhouette of Bernard the flamingo standing in the middle of the carpet like an avian sentinel.
Peggy narrowed her eyes. “Why is he inside?”
“I don’t know,” Steve whispered. “I think he’s here to intimidate us.”
“Steve,” she whispered, “he’s a lawn ornament.”
“Howard treats him like a security guard.”
Peggy approached with caution.
Bernard, squawking loudly, remained blocking the path.
“SHHH!” Peggy hissed. “Do NOT wake Howard, or I’ll—“
“Peg, I think you’re louder than him…” he interrupted gently. She glared.
Footsteps echoed. Edwin Jarvis appeared in his robe, holding a cup of tea, looking like a man who had been waiting up on purpose.
“Oh good,” Jarvis said brightly. “You’re home. Mr. Stark was concerned you were, how did he put it, ‘sneaking around to canoodle.’”
Peggy’s face went scarlet. “We were on a date, Mr. Jarvis.”
Ana peeked around the corner with a grin far too delighted. “A very late date.”
“We lost track of time,” Steve said quickly, his face somehow redder.
“With your lips?” Ana teased.
Peggy covered her face with both hands. “Bernard is judging us. Mr. Jarvis is judging us. Ana is judging us. I cannot live like this.”
“Oh nonsense,” Ana said, walking over to kiss Peggy on the cheek. “We’re thrilled for you.”
Steve squeezed Peggy’s hand. “It was worth it.”
She lowered her hands, eyes softening when she looked at him. “Yes,” she whispered. “It was.”
Bernard squawked accusingly.
Howard, somewhere upstairs, shouted, “IF YOU HURT BERNARD YOU’RE PAYING FOR HIS SURGERY!”
Peggy groaned into Steve’s shoulder. Steve laughed.
And they slipped upstairs together, hand in hand, hearts light, knowing they’d face tomorrow’s chaos the same way they faced everything; side by side, secretly and stubbornly in love.
How to Commit a Felony For Your Boyfriend (With His Superhero Friends)
(1/7): Doctor Cuddles (Or: How Peggy Carter Decided to Commit Federal Crimes)
PS: End of the chapter has a photo of Doctor Cuddles
Hello!! @damnedsistera I am your Steggy Secret Santa!! I hope this is everything you want & more!! Thanks @steggyfanevents
Steve Rogers lost everything when he went into the ice - this includes Doctor Cuddles, the teddy bear his mother crafted for him when he was young. Now they're reunited, problem is, Doctor Cuddles is locked behind glass, and labeled ‘Property Of The Smithsonian.’
The museum said no to returning him.
Peggy and Bucky (and some of the Avengers) said, “hold my felony.”
Officially, Peggy and Bucky weren’t supposed to be here.
SHIELD's latest brilliant idea: a documentary to make Captain America more ‘human and relatable’ because apparently saving the world repeatedly wasn't relatable enough.
Steve had agreed, because of course he had—accepting it the same way he accepted being treated more as an idol than a human being. Jaw tense, shoulders back, answering in that quiet sigh that meant, let’s get this over with.
He was used to being public property.
The crew told Steve to tour the museum at his leisure and their director, Christine Everhart would ask questions where she found necessary.
Peggy and Bucky invited themselves along when Steve informed them of his plan, and he didn’t argue. Bucky insisted Steve needed buffers to fend off the ravenous, invasive questions while Peggy could help him provide entertaining comments that documentaries are always looking for.
Bucky wasn’t going to hear otherwise and honestly, Peggy agreed.
The Smithsonian was having one of those art-directed by Hallmark days, with twinkle lights already strung about, a giant Christmas tree decorated with ornaments from the gift shop, greeted them in the lobby, and the smell of artificial cinnamon, pine, and nutmeg in the air.
Overkill and suffocating.
Peggy walked hand-in-hand with Steve as they entered the lobby and pretended to investigate the map of exhibits. They were wearing matching red sweaters with snowmen and gingerbread men dressed as the Avengers. She’d gotten them as a joke but Steve, being Steve, had taken it seriously and chose today of all days to wear the ‘festive matching sweaters my lovely girlfriend chose for us.’
Bucky had refused to wear the one Steve had bought for him, instead opting for a Santa Hat that Clint had pierced with an arrow, claiming it was festive enough. Disagreeing on that thought, Peggy had attached a Captain America-themed ornament to the arrow.
Now, it was perfect.
“I look ridiculous,” Bucky muttered. “You two look ridiculous. Like Christmas threw up on you.”
“You look festive,” Peggy corrected without looking at him. “And we look festive. You’re just a Scrooge.”
“I look like a mall Santa’s depressed bodyguard.”
“You’re right, Bucky, we should get you some elf ears to go with that hat.”
“Can you two not bicker for five minutes?” Steve asked, but he was smiling, a twinkle in his eye. He’d pulled Peggy close with an arm around her shoulders. “We’re supposed to be having a cultural experience here.”
for: @perfectpurls for Steggy Secret Santa 2025! @steggyfanevents
Rating: G-T
Summary:
In the summer of 1936, Steve Rogers has his fortune told about his soulmate, the perfect girl for him, the perfect love. That same summer, Peggy Carter starts having dreams about her own soulmate. This is how they find each other. | Mostly canon compliant, with a soulmate AU twist.
