Chapter Text
Angie’s not really sure how it all began.
Actually what she does remember is a dumb comment from Sarah about how Angie talks too much and should maybe channel that into something useful. (Sarah being Slutty Sarah, who has a slightly famous YouTube channel that consists of too much cleavage and makeup tutorials.)
What she doesn’t recall is when her “useful channelling” overtook Slutty Sarah’s YouTube channel at the speed of a particularly strong gale and gained over 15k subscribers. Of course she can’t help but feel glee at the fact Sarah’s snide comment about Angie’s talkativeness caused her own doom, what can she say - she’s always loved getting back at people.
Angie has fallen into a routine now, over the year or so that her YouTube channel has been running. Boring is a word her father would choose to describe her routine, so heavily affected by electronic devices and Wi-Fi that she’s now more part of the virtual world than the real one. Generally, Angie thinks, that’s a not a bad thing, but even as she logs on to her old laptop, previously owned by two of her brothers, she can imagine her father’s stern voice in her head.
It’s a good thing she doesn’t live with her family anymore, sure she loves them, but it’s nicer now that she only meets them once a week for dinner. Less… overbearing.
Plus, nineteen is a bit too old to still be living with parents, at least that’s what Sarah tells her.
Angie really needs to stop taking advice from a person with slutty at the start of their name.
Nevertheless, Sarah inadvertently started all this and it’s the best thing Angie has, so she should really be grateful.
One of the only non-hand-me-down things in Angie’s small apartment is her camera. For weeks she saved up to buy it and it is her pride and joy, sleek and black with and excellent mic and a clear image. Honestly, Angie would probably give up one of her brothers before she gave up her camera. (Probably Hector, he’s always making sexist jokes at the dinner table anyway and Angie doesn’t have time for that.)
Setting up her camera on a cheap tripod with precision, Angie makes sure the angle isn’t crooked before she hits record.
“Hi.” Angie waves as she slumps down in the chair positioned in front of the lens. Talking to a camera should feel awkward, she supposes, but really Angie can talk to anything.
“So today I thought I’d do a second ‘Cook with Angie’ video, considering your reaction to the first. To be honest though,” Angie does an over the top shrug. “I don’t even remember recording that. Just finding it on my camera, editing it and putting it up for you guys. So yeah, I’ll do some cooking for you, figured I’d make an omelette, cause then not much can go wrong. So let’s get cracking!”
Putting her face in her hands Angie groans, “Okay that was awful, I’m so sorry.”
Small is one word to describe Angie’s kitchen, if she had a thesaurus perhaps she would use the words tiny, petite, or maybe even go as far to say it was minuscule. But she doesn’t have a thesaurus, or an overly large vocabulary, so she goes with small. It’s an apt description.
Still she has an oven and some eggs and a pan, which is enough to make an omelette.
Cracking the eggs into a bowl, Angie smiles at the camera. “This is the bit where my ma usually whisks the eggs together, but I don’t have a whisk so I’m gonna use a fork. You have to fork the eggs.” Eyes widening, Angie squeals. “Actually no! You mustn’t fork eggs!” Waiting for a second, she then pulls a clumsy wink at the camera. “At least not without their consent.”
It’s a bad joke, but isn’t that really all her channel is?
After putting the mixture into the pan, Angie turns the oven onto a low heat and turns to face the camera. “While we’re waiting for the omelette to magically turn from liquid into its vaguely enjoyable rubber substance, I guess I’ll read some of your tweets.”
She grabs her laptop and pulls up twitter, scrolling to find some interesting ones. “@knivesarecoolsometimes: @AngieMartismelly you’re very pretty.” Angie looks up. “Okay so maybe I choose to read that one out because I’m a little vain. That’s okay, everyone has flaws… Except me, I’m perfect. But thank you for that. Side note your twitter name suggests maybe you should see a therapist about something. Next one.”
“@PCarterisbae: @AngieMartismelly pls pls pls do a Q&A video.” Scrunching up her nose, Angie feigns offense. “Who is PCarter and why are they bae not me?! Also yes a Q&A video is in the works guys.” Angie looks behind her to check her omelette and it’s not quite cooked yet. “I think I have time for some more.”
“@TopPeggyCarterfan: @AngieMartismelly when are you going to do another cook with Angie.” Angie gestures behind her, arms waving rapidly about. “Now! Also I need to flip the omelette, just a sec.” Grabbing a spatula, Angie flips the omelette with the skill of a professional chef and is pleased to see that it’s not burnt underneath. Or stuck to the pan. (It’s happened before. Many times.)
“Also.” She puts the spatula down and beelines back to the camera. “Is PCarter the same person as Peggy Carter? Why are you all her fans? Who even is she? You know what, I’m going to google Peggy Carter.”
Fingers typing rapidly, Angie pokes out her tongue in concentration as she types in the unfamiliar name, commenting on the results as they pop up. “Peggy Carter is a well-known British YouTuber who first started her channel in 2011.” She trails off, looking up at the camera. “Are you guys- are you… YouTube cheating on me?” She says it softly, letting her voice wobble and tears even spring into her eyes – her ma always told her she would make a good actress.
Back on task, Angie looks back to the computer screen, pretending to wipe away some tears. “This dame better be good, I’d hate to know you cheated on me with some gal who can’t even tell her left from her right.”
Opening up Peggy Carter’s channel, Angie clicks on the first video and lets out a breath as it pops up. “Blimey this gal is gorgeous, I don’t blame you for watching now.” She wiggles her eyebrows at the camera, before diverting her attention back to the screen.
Even though she was half joking, Angie wasn’t lying - Peggy Carter is gorgeous. She has full red lips and curled dark hair, her eyes seem kind and they’re the nicest shade of brown that Angie has ever seen. Her teeth are straight and white and then there’s the accent. Angie’s already enraptured and the woman has only said hello.
“Usually my videos have more… planning then this.” The woman, Peggy, looks slightly disgruntled before continuing. “But today I have decided to inform you all of a problem that has been getting on my nerves lately, a problem, I’m sure, that a lot of you have to deal with. That’s right. I’m talking about… Roommates.” The camera zooms in dramatically on Peggy’s face and Angie lets out a giggle. Music begins playing in the background. “Okay so the first problem with roommates is they steal your stuff.” Peggy’s voice overlays a video of her angrily snatching back a book from a good looking young man with dark hair and a moustache.
“The next issue is the constant singing in the shower.” The video shows Peggy lying in bed, with a pillow shoved over her head and a weird out of tune rendition of amazing grace happening in the background.
Angie is so captured in the video that before she knows it, it reaches the end and Peggy is saying the usual stuff about liking and subscribing and also telling everyone to check out her self-defence videos, which Angie will definitely be doing later. (Hello yes, good looking Englishwoman in sweaty workout clothes. What’s not too like?)
It’s not until she smells burning that Angie remembers she is actually filming a video right now.
“Oh shit!” Running to the oven, Angie turns it off before scraping what she can of the omelette into the trash and putting the pan in the sink. That’ll be hard to wash up later.
Hastily she opens some windows, before rushing back to the camera and panting out. “I mean sheesh. Sorry Nona.” She smiles sheepishly, hoping her face isn’t too red. “You know the drill guys, like and subscribe and all that. Next week I’ll do a Q&A for you guys.”
Suddenly the smoke alarm starts beeping loudly and the video ends with Angie looking up in alarm.
*
Peggy is sitting on her bed, scrolling monotonously through her twitter feed on her phone. Tiredness aches in every bone in her body from her daily exercise routine and she has yet to change out of her gym clothes. She should probably do that soon.
Her eyes are almost drifting shut as she reads through the tweets, but they all say the same thing.
@Grenadesike: @APeggyCarter are you aware that @AngieMartismelly burnt her omelette because of you
@0ne1astdance: @APeggyCarter, @AngieMartismelly thinks you’re hot lol
@FrozenIce: @APeggyCarter how dare you do that to the omelette…?
There are about a hundred more, not that Peggy’s bothered to count.
“Howard?” Peggy calls, looking up from her phone.
Her roommate pops his head through her bedroom door. “Jeez Peg, not that I mind but warn a guy when you’re wearing practically nothing okay.”
Peggy looks down at her workout ensemble of a tank top and some lycra shorts, before throwing her pillow at Howard. “Wanker.”
“That’s not what the girls say.” Howard says, with a wink and a sly grin.
“Oh believe me I know what the girls say.” Peggy snaps. “I hear it through the thin walls of our apartment when I’m trying to sleep. Honestly I’m scared to touch any surface that isn’t in my own room.”
Howard makes a slightly uncomfortable shifty face and Peggy gasps. “Howard!”
“It was one time.” The man defends. “I was drunk - I thought it was my room.”
“Oh dear lord I’m going to have to bleach my entire room.”
“Well it didn’t make a difference until you knew so…”
“Howard.” Peggy’s voice is sharp. “I need you to remember that I know five different styles of martial arts and then I need you to get very scared.”
Changing the subject rapidly, Howard asks. “Why did you call me in here, Peggy?”
“Oh.” Brows furrowing Peggy looks down at her phone. “Do you know anything about an omelette burning incident that involved me?”
“What?” Befuddlement etches its way onto Howards features.
“It’s all over twitter look.” Peggy reads a random tweet. “@APeggyCarter I bet @AngieMartismelly was looking forward to eating that omelette.”
“Who’s Angie Martismelly?” Howard asks, “Is she hot?”
Peggy sighs. “I don’t even know why I agreed to live with you.”
“Maybe it’s my charm.”
“Hmm,” Raising an eyebrow at her friends comment, Peggy clicks on @AngieMartismelly’s twitter page. Yes, she is hot, not that Peggy would ever tell Howard that. Her twitter photo is her pulling a stupid face, but it’s still easy to see the beauty that lies in her features – with blue eyes and hair that isn’t quite blonde but a light shade of brown. “She’s another YouTuber.”
“Why do you sound surprised?” Howard has wandered over to Peggy and is desperately trying to look at her phone.
“Well… actually I suppose you’re right, it’s not that surprising is it?” Peggy looks at Howard expectantly.
Miming ignorance, Howard retorts. “I’m sorry did you ask a question. I stopped listening after ‘I suppose you’re right’.”
“Honestly Howard, you are the biggest twat I’ve ever met.”
“And proud of it.” Howard grins, before snatching Peggy’s phone out of her hands and looking at it greedily. “Wow she is hot. I would totally bang her.”
“She,” Peggy takes the phone back. “Is nineteen.”
“How do you know that?” Scoffs Howard.
“It’s in her bio.”
“Yeah well.” Petulantly, Howard responds. “That’s still legal.”
Peggy hits him over the head. “No.”
Rubbing his head, Howard frowns. “Jesus Peggy I was only kidding. Why don’t you go on her channel – the answer to the omelette question will probably be there.”
“You’re right.” Peggy sighs, clicking on the YouTube link in Angie’s twitter bio.
“I’m always right.” Howard smiles cheekily. “That’s why they call me a genius.”
“No Howard, you call yourself that.”
“Only when I’m…” He coughs, loudly and dramatically. “Having some alone time.”
“…It’s hard to tell when you’re joking anymore.”
“Shh, the videos about to start.”
Angie’s YouTube channel is called ChatterBoxMartinelli and it automatically plays her latest video when the page loads.
Starting off, the video shows Angie slumping down in a chair. “Hi.” She says, before doing an awkward little wave and beginning to babble off about cooking, making a few bad puns along the way.
When the video is finished Peggy is almost chuckling. “I understand the omelette thing now.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t let me sleep with her.” Howard moans. “I mean she’s fun and hot, what more could a guy want?”
“Um one,” Peggy lists on her fingers. “We live in England, she lives in America. You of all people know how far away that is. Two, if point one doesn’t work out because, by some miracle, you see her when you’re visiting your family or something, she’s nineteen, you’re twenty-five. Three, no.”
“You can’t list ‘no’ as one of your points.” Howard complains.
“Yes I can and I just did.” Peggy throws back. “Now get out my room.”
“Fine, but just know that I hate you.” There’s a bang of the door as Howard leaves the room.
“No you don’t!” Peggy shouts, loudly, before the room descends into a comfortable silence.
Smiling softly to herself, Peggy picks up her phone once more. She subscribes to Angie’s channel, before going on twitter and typing out a tweet. Dropping her phone onto her bed, she grabs a towel and heads for the shower.
@APeggyCarter: @AngieMartismelly sorry for assisting in the burning of your omelette. Does it help to know that I can’t cook to save my life?
It’s only once Peggy has showered, changed and is towelling her hair, when she sees that there’s been a reply.
Re: @APeggyCarter: @AngieMartismelly sorry for assisting in the burning of your omelette. Does it help to know that I can’t cook to save my life?
@AngieMartismelly: @APeggyCarter that doesn’t matter when you’ve got legs like yours ;)