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ibelieveinturtles · 5 years

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Darcyland Crack Challenge

April 3 - Stuck in an air vent - Oh boy, this is a tight squeeze, and we want to know how, why, under what condition and to what degree Darcy has gotten herself stuck.

Okay so I think we all know how this goes now... 3 days late, unbeta’d, unedited, finished barely three minutes ago... better late than never, right!?

Darcy was stuck.

In the weeks since her unexpected acquisition of the power of teleportation her life had changed… and not necessarily for the better.

She still couldn’t control it, which was how she’d ended up here. Stuck. In a vent. A vent that was a lot smaller than dozens of movies had led her to believe vents were. She didn’t even know where the vent was. Just that she was stuck in it. And no amount of wishing that she wasn’t stuck in this smelly, dusty vent was getting her out of it.

After teleporting into Steve’s lap they’d gone to medical. Medical hadn’t found anything wrong with her. They checked her heart and her lungs and her blood pressure and a thousand other things. Then they took blood tests and did x-rays and sent her home to wait for the results. Some of the test results took weeks to run which meant she was still waiting.

And that was kind of, maybe, why she was stuck in an unknown vent in an unknown location. Because medical had finally called to say they had news for her and could she please come and see them at her earliest convenience.

What they should have said was, ‘Hey, we actually lied about how long this shit takes because the doctor is actually in the pay of AIM or HYDRA or Hammer Industries or someone and we wanted to know what happened too and now we do know so we’re going to try and kidnap you.’

A gentle vibrating against her thigh reminded Darcy that she was scheduled for training with Natasha and was now officially late. It was a shame that she was jammed in so tightly that she couldn’t reach the damn thing. Unless…

It took fifteen minutes of careful wiggling and a lot of whispered cursing for Darcy to finally get her hand on her phone. Then it took another half hour of wiggling, gripping with her fingertips, losing her grip, gaining her grip again, and finally twisting her arm into positions she was sure arms didn’t usually go into, to get her phone up to her head.

Her next task was to blindly swipe and tap on the screen until it brought up the emergency screen so she could call one of her emergency contacts.

It was just her bad luck that the contact she finally managed to hit was her mother.

“Oh, hello, Darling! I was just thinking about you! How are you? How’s your job? Did Aunt Miriam call you-”

“Mom-”

“-yet? She’s just gotten engaged to that-”

“Mom, I need you-”

“-nice young man of hers.”

“Mom, can you please-”

“You’re very quiet today, Darcy. I’m having trouble hearing you-”

“MOM! I need you to call Jane for me!”

“What? Why? You didn’t get fired did you?”

“No, Mom. I’m just- I’m in a bit of a bind and I need you to please call Jane and get her to call me. Immediately. It’s very important.”

“Sorry, can you repeat that? You’re so faint.”

“CAN YOU CALL JANE?”

“Oh, well of course, sweetheart. You know, you should bring her with you next time you come to visit-”

“Sure, but can you please call her for me right now! She needs to call me immediately.”

“Why can’t you call her yourself?”

“Classified, Mom. Sorry. I’m hanging up now, call Jane. Please!”

Darcy stabbed at her phone with her thumb and hoped she managed to disconnect the call. Then she waited, trying to count of the seconds in her head, wondering how long it would take before she could possibly expect Jane to call her.

It seemed like several geological ages before her phone rang but when she was able to finally look at her phone logs later, it was only seven minutes.

“Darcy? Darcy, are you there? Are you okay? What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m here, I’m fine, the doctor in medical tried to kidnap me and I’m in a vent.”

In her minds eyes Darcy could see Jane looking up at the ceiling. “A vent? Where? How?”

“I don’t know and I teleported, how else do you think I got myself stuck in a vent?” Darcy snapped. “Can’t someone there trace the call and come and get me?”

“Can’t you just teleport back?”

“I tried. I’m still here. You know I can’t control it, Jane.”

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere-”

“Where, Jane? Where am I gonna go?”

“I’m going to Hill’s office. I’ll call you back when I get there, okay?”

Before Darcy could protest the call ended.

Several dozen more geological ages later her phone rang again. This time it was Maria Hill, who spoke to Darcy very calmly and sensibly and within five minutes Darcy knew where she was and how long she would have to wait for rescue.

“I’m where?”

There was the sound of voices in the background and a moment later Natasha was on the phone.

“Darcy, can you tell me - where would you most like to be right now?”

“Um… not here?” Darcy hoped Natasha wouldn’t be offended by the sarcasm in her voice but really - what kind of a stupid question was that?

“I know, Darcy, I know. But think of somewhere specific - your room? The lab? The cafeteria? Somewhere... else?”

Darcy thought hard for a moment. All she really wanted was to be somewhere warm and safe and-

For the second time, she fell into Steve Rogers lap.

In case you hadn’t guessed, this runs on from day 2′s prompt :-)

@dresupi here’s another one for you, gorgeous!

#dlaf2019 #darcy lewis #shieldshock #jane foster #natasha romanoff #stuck in a vent #teleporting

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yespumpkindoodlesthings · 5 years

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Testing...1..2..3

Darcyland Crackfic Challenge 2019 #6: Must Include Glow Sticks.

“Jane, I’m going to marry him,” Darcy announced on their first full day at SHIELD.

“Which him?” Jane asked, unlocking the door to their lab. “Steve?” Several members of STRIKE Alpha had just walked by, accompanied by Captain America. Steve had introduced them to Jane and Darcy.

“No, no, Commander Rumlow,” Darcy said, as if this was obvious. “He’s my ideal, like Barbara Stanwyck says in The Lady Eve. Did you see his forearm tattoos when he shook your hand? All those tats are belong to me. I got dibs, Janey.”

“Oh, okay,” Jane said absently. Truth be told, Jane didn’t take it seriously. Darcy also vowed to marry Shemar Moore whenever she saw him on television. Jane couldn’t have told someone who Commander Rumlow was. The tall Australian one? The blonde one? Darcy would forget about it, probably. Jane certainly hadn’t noticed anyone special. Once you’d been to Asgard, regular guys tended to recede into the woodwork, even if they did have tattoos or work with Captain America.

Two weeks later, Jane had totally forgotten about it and Darcy had baked “test” mini pound cakes for her and Thor the night before for unexplained reasons. Jane, mid-theorem, had forgotten to ask what the test was. Thor had been too busy eating the results and getting crumbs in his beard. “Jane, I refilled your coffee and I’m going down to floor twelve!” Darcy said. She was carrying the bag of cakes.

“Huh?” Jane said, looking up. It was eleven-thirty-four.

“I’m delivering my test mini bundts to his hotness,” Darcy said.

“Prince Harry? He’s married now--” Jane said, frowning.

“Please, I’m so over that, Jane,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes.

“All right,” Jane replied. She was briefly puzzled. Who was His Hotness if it wasn’t Prince Harry anymore? Where was she going?

“Floor twelve,” Darcy supplied, seeing Jane’s expression of confusion.

“With decorated bundt cakes for--?” Jane said. She’d wrapped the pound cakes and decorated them with ribbon. Had Darcy seen it in a movie? Darcy was always going on baking binges after she saw something online or in a movie. That was why it was dangerous to let her watch Chocolat, unless you were craving soft, cocoa-dipped truffles or oodles of hot chocolate. Steve had developed sort of a fixation about suggesting it during their movie nights. He was nursing a minor hot chocolate problem.

“For my future STRIKE husband, hellloooo, Midgard to Jane! Midgard to Jane!” Darcy joked before she bounced out of the lab. Then Jane remembered the future husband thing. STRIKE Alpha’s offices were on floor twelve. Darcy was still on that? That could be why she’d spent all night cooling mini bundt cakes and drizzling them with liqueur. But which one was he? Jane had forgotten to ask. Commander Whatsit. Rollo? Rimbaud?

***

“Hellooo, gorgeous, are you free?” Darcy said, sticking her face around the door to Brock Rumlow’s office and doing her best Barbra Streisand. It wasn’t The Way We Were, but Rumlow was behaving frustratingly like a diffident male lead in one of Streisand’s movies, stubbornly refusing to actually ask her out. “Can I tempt you with equally gorgeous pound cake?” she said, holding up the amaretto cakes. They were fluted in pretty shapes and slightly larger than donuts. Rumlow looked up and smiled. It was a good smile. Improved by his tortoiseshell reading glasses.

“Hey, sweetheart, that’s nice of you,” he said. He was working on paperwork. She’d had to go to the techs for assistance when he’d seemed oblivious in response to her inquiry about weekend plans on Tuesday. Cameron Klein had told her when he had office hours to do paperwork and meet with the probie field agents he trained.

“I didn’t know if you like amaretto or lemon, so I picked amaretto now, but I could always make you lemon later,” she told him, stepping into the small office. She’d made sure to undo an extra button on her snugly-fitted cardi before she walked in. He couldn’t miss the girls, right? She was taking her dress cues from pin-ups and Nigella Lawson during this op.

“I like both, actually,” he said. “And I’d never turn down something from you, Jane might portal me to Jotunheim,” he said, grinning at her.

“That’s right, I have all the power here, Commander,” Darcy said. “You have to listen to me.” She walked around to lean against his desk, so that her leg was just brushing his desk chair and placed the pound cakes gently on the stack of paperwork. He would get that it was ‘Pound me’ pound cake, right? Did she need to label it naughtily?

“That really looks good. Do you cook a lot?” he asked. Pleasantly, but not flirtatiously. What in the world, Darcy thought.

“I bake a lot,” she said. “Thor eats in quantity, so I always have a taste tester.”

“Yeah?” he said. The man was pretty, Darcy thought, for about the millionth time. She’d taken to peeking out Jane’s lab windows whenever his quinjet landed, just to see him stroll around the nearby helipad in aviators and black tactical gear, being all pretty and whatnot. Sometimes, he was pretty in short sleeves. She was looking forward to her first DC summer now.

“I wouldn’t mind a backup guy, though. You interested in volunteering?” she asked. Instinctively, she reached out and toyed with the ends of his dark hair. He looked up at her and smiled gently, then scratched his jaw. His expression turned sheepish.

“I would, but, uh, I’m a paleo guy, been doing that for years. This”--he patted the wrapped cake gently--”is a special treat for me, really.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, momentarily flummoxed. Of course, he’d be the only one not devouring the damn things. All the STRIKE Alpha guys in the main office adjoining his had practically lept on her big shopping bag of wrapped and beribboned cakes. If she listened, she could hear them chewing and talking happily like they were fourth graders on someone’s birthday and she was the mom who’d brought the sheet cake. Still, she’d have them on her side in future field exercises for Operation Seduction.

“I really appreciate it, though,” he said. “My whole family’s in New York, so nobody bakes for me, except at Christmas. I mostly live on protein bars and, uh, steak and chicken breasts,” he said.

“Yeah?” Darcy said, wheels turning. She was determined to get through to him. Maybe Jack had a key to Brock’s apartment? What if she snuck in and cooked him a protein-rich dinner? Was that too stalkery? “I do a really good chicken paillard,” she told him. That was technically true. She’d learned to cook a few balanced meals so Jane wouldn’t die of vitamin-deficiency in Norway. Serious Eats were her people now.

“Really?” he said. “Could you send me the recipe?” Oh my God, Darcy thought. It’s like I’m not even registering as a woman. What gives?

“Of course,” she said. “But I’d be happy to give you an at-home cooking demonstration, too. I don’t know about you, but I’m a hands on learner.” She winked.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he said mildly. He patted her arm gently and Darcy felt herself blush. He was so tanned and warm. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said, half-archly, half in frustration.

Darcy walked out of his office feeling wildly perplexed. She practically ran into Jack Rollins’ tall frame in the hallway. “Whoops, I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, apologetic. He was pinkly tanned and relaxed-looking. He’d just returned from visiting his family in Australia. “That’s all right, love,” Jack said. “Those mini cakes are bonzer. You could crack me on the head, I’d still forgive you.”

“Thanks, but I’m striking out with a certain STRIKE Commander,” Darcy confided. “Does he not date women? Or is there somebody?” she asked, frowning and huffing out a sigh. Rumlow was so nice, but resolutely not getting it, unless he had a person already and was too polite to tell her, for whatever mysterious reason. Jack chuckled at her.

“Uh, no, he does date women and he’s not seeing anybody,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking particularly homicidal in thought, “they’re not usually as young and pretty as you, though.”

“Bullshit, Jack. Flattering to my ego, but total Aussie bullshit,” Darcy said, wagging a finger at him and moving to walk away. “That won’t get you more cakes, pal.” Jack grinned at her.

“I ‘ppreciate the cakes,” he called.

“If you want more, you’ll get me a date, Jack,” she said. “I’m not above bribing federal agents to get laid.”

“Noted, love!” he called back, laughing.

***

Jack found Brock in his office. “Mate, what are you doing?” he asked incredulously.

“Yearly reports,” Brock grumbled. The ARs were the worst part of the job. “These fucking questions. Would you say you feel appreciated by me as a boss?” he asked. “On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“I can tell you who don’t feel appreciated,” Jack said, swiping a hunk of the amaretto cake that Brock had opened and laid out on a napkin on his desk. “Darcy Lewis.”

“Hey, that’s mine--” Brock began. “What?”

“Woman’s crazy about you,” Jack said, popping the cake fragment into his mouth. “Wants to date you, that one does.”

“C’mon, Jack,” Brock scoffed. “You got sunstroke or some shit? I’m twice her age and it’s Darcy.” What was she, twenty-seven? Maybe thirty, max? There was no way someone that young and gorgeous would want a fifty year old triple agent who’d barely survived the HYDRA Uprising and had to have his burns patched up by Helen Cho, Brock thought. He was too damn old. She probably had dozens of men at her beck and call. He couldn’t imagine her spending a night alone unless she wanted to. That red sweater she’d been wearing this morning had been distracting. Also, he liked the way she wore her dark hair wavy and the way she kneaded her upper lip with her teeth when she was thinking….

“So?” Jack said, interrupting his fantasy of what she would look like with her dark hair pooled across the pillows on his bed.

“So, I’m not some creepy old man like Gregorovich,” Brock said. Agent Gregorovich was a balding fifty-something in Tactics who always talked about his “crush” on that sad-eyed Sokovian girl that Cap knew, Wanda Maximoff. It made Brock’s skin crawl. Wanda Maximoff was practically a child and these middle-aged weirdos seemed to sense her vulnerability and hover. Like vultures. He might think about Darcy sometimes, but he wasn’t gonna vocalize it in front of Maria Hill and make jokes about celebrating the day a cute girl turned eighteen as a national holiday, like a damn freak. Cap really needed to put Gregorovich through a window, come to think of it.

“Darcy made you the best of these,” Jack said, raising an eyebrow.

“I saw her talking to some of the techs the other day,” Brock said, frowning at his paperwork, “guys her age. That’s probably who she dates. Some guy like Cameron Klein who understands whatever it is Foster’s doing upstairs.”

“Sure, sure, it’s not that she collects intelligence on your whereabouts from Klein,” Jack said skeptically. “So, she can find you and hug you.”

“She’s young,” Brock insisted. “People her age joke around and are, uh, touchy-feely, or whatever. It’s platonic, I’m sure.” He’d worked hard--ironic pun--not to let his attraction show whenever she touched him.

“Right-o,” Jack said, with evident sarcasm, swiping another piece of cake as he stood to leave.

“Hey, asshole, cut it out,” Brock muttered, “that’s mine.”

“You should take Darcy to dinner sometime as a thank you, mate,” Jack said.

Once he was alone again with his paperwork, Brock sighed. He needed fucking reading glasses and flecks of gray had started to appear in his hair. All his damn hair. Pretty soon, he’d be one of those old men from his Bronx neighborhood who sat around Domenico’s and whined about how expensive everything was now and needed to trim their fucking nose hairs. There was no way in hell that Darcy Lewis viewed him as anything more than one of her sympathy cases. Cap had mentioned that she liked to nurture people, feed them. She was a hugger and a feeder. He ate a piece of the amaretto cake. It was damn good cake. Did those kids in tech know how lucky they were? If he was fifteen years younger, he thought glumly. Then he could respond differently when she ran a palm up his forearm and complimented his Thai tattoos. Or caught him in a hug because someone had told her it was his work anniversary as a STRIKE commander and she thought “occasions should be celebrated--wildly and often.”

He’d really wanted to make a teasing joke about doing things wildly and often. But he wasn’t gonna be that guy. Fuck no. The last thing he wanted was to see her eyes flash creep when she looked at him.

***

“I do not get men,” Darcy said to Jane, back in the lab. “I’m hella cute. How could he not think I’m cute?” She scrunched her nose and looked at her reflection in a shiny piece of equipment. She was a little wavy, but the hair was good, the boobs were great, and she knew the cake was fantastic. Thor had eaten eight of them last night and she’d had to put the others behind a bag of canned goods to hide them in the kitchen.

“You’re hella cute,” Jane said firmly. “This guy is ridiculous.”

“Do you even know who I mean?” Darcy asked.

“The blond barista at that coffee shop?” Jane said, guessing wildly.

“Ahhhhnt!” Darcy said, making a no buzzer sound. “But thank you anyway,” she said, patting Jane affectionately on the head.

Darcy had gone for coffee when Jack Rollins came to see Jane. “Can you help me?” he asked the scientist.

“Who are you?” she said.

“I work with Brock. She’s got a thing for him, he’s mad about her. I want to get them together. I’ve got a plan,” Jack said. “But I need help.” He passed her a blueprint and a plan of action.

“Security codes for the elevator?” Jane said. “Wait, who is she?”

“Darcy,” Jack said patiently. He’d worked with Brock for years. His patience was fairly infinite.

***

Jack was behaving bizarrely, Rumlow thought. He’d told his boss that STRIKE Alpha’s latest bullet model—made to go through the scales of those Chitauri flying worm bastards, Jotunheim frost beasts, etc.—was stuck in R&D and that Rumlow’s signature was needed to get them. So, Brock was headed upstairs. The elevator doors opened and Darcy got on. “Hi,” Darcy said. Something was off. She lacked her usual brightness.

“You okay?” Brock asked.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. Two floors later, she sighed softly.

“Lewis,” Brock said coaxingly. “What’s bugging you?” He stepped closer. As he did, alarms began to sound and the elevator stopped with a violent jerk. Darcy stumbled forward, trying to save her coffee and her balance. Brock caught her, arms wrapped around her waist.

“Oh,” Darcy said, blushing furiously. She made to move away, but the lights went out at the same time and it startled her so much that she wobbled again.

“You okay?” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, sighing. He looked around. It was completely dark. No emergency lighting?

“This is the first time I’ve ever missed that damn glass elevator in the old building,” he said. “I don’t think I have a flashlight.”

“Oh, hold on,” she said. “I have a solution, please take my coffee,” Darcy asked. He took her cup--there was a lot of blind fumbling and touching, he tried not to find it erotic to feel her hands on his in the dark--then, as his eyes adjusted, it was clear she was fumbling in her messenger bag. “Ah ha!” she said. “Success!” She passed him something.

“What--what is this?” he asked.

“Glow stick,” she said, “just snap it. Snap and shake, hot stuff.” He heard a crack and her face was lit with a green glow.

“Oh, okay,” he said, glad she couldn’t have seen the grin when she’d called him hot stuff. Fucking tech analysts, he thought. “Why do you have these in your purse?” he asked. Why was he so old? Couldn’t R&D shave four years off his age or some shit?

“Oh, it’s the neatest thing. I’m learning how to twirl with them while Jane has her sixteen-hour science binges. Sort of a lab rave, but with coffee? We were in Germany and saw this artist at a science thing--she was the entertainment, basically--but she dipped these into neon paint and would swing them over canvases to make abstract art in the dark. It was really nifty, you know?” Darcy said. “Especially compared to the science arguments.”

“Yeah,” he said. He had no fucking clue about performance art, but he liked the enthusiasm she brought to everything. “How do you twirl these?” he asked curiously.

“You need shoestrings,” Darcy said. “Or fishing line.”

“I’ve got tactical laces on,” he said. “Would you show me?”

***

“I hear giggling!” Jane hissed into her cell phone, creeping away from the elevator. “It hasn’t worked.”

“It’s got to have worked by now,” Jack said. “They’ve been in there twenty minutes. How do you know it hasn’t?”

“Give me some credit, Rollins. We lived together in tiny, thin-walled apartments all over Europe. If she’s giggling, she’s not impressed by what he’s laying down. Giggles aren’t her good sex noise. Turn on the cameras,” Jane said.

“If I turn on the cameras, it reactivates the whole elevator,” he said. “We’ve got VIPs upstairs.”

“Do it,” Jane said. “You’re going to have to think of something else to get your sugar fix.”

“What do you do?” Jack said.

“I pay her, let her play on social media during the work day, and pretend I don’t know she’s really going to Sephora at noon when she says it’s her doctor’s appointment,” Jane said.

“Oh,” Jack said. “Bloody hell. I can’t do that.”

***

Darcy was mid-double twirl when the elevator’s lights came on and it started to move again. She realized Rumlow was smiling at her from the floor and was momentarily uncertain. “Ummmm,” she said. “This is it? It’s kind of dorky, but I think counts as lab cardio? I tried hula hooping, but I kept falling down.” She pulled a face and he laughed.

“Very cool--” he began.

Beside them, the elevator doors opened. “Miss Lewis,” Nick Fury said, tilting his head at her. Behind him were several Congressmen. Darcy tried to hide her glow sticks. She succeeded in hitting herself with them.

“Ow,” she said. Rumlow winced in sympathy.

“Commander Rumlow,” Fury said to the man on the floor as he stood.

“The elevator stopped, director,” Rumlow said smoothly. “We were demoing portable safety flares for enclosed spaces. As a training exercise. Impromptu.”

“Yes,” Darcy said, nodding.

“Commander Rumlow is the head of STRIKE Alpha--and you appear to have lost your shoelaces, Commander,” Fury said.

“Oh, I’ve got those, sorry,” Darcy said, wanting to melt into the floor in embarrassment as she untied them from the glow sticks.

“Why don’t you step off the elevator and give them back?” Fury suggested.

“Of course,” Rumlow said, guiding Darcy off the elevator, her coffee in his hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, genuinely upset that she’d embarrassed him in front of one-third of the Congressional Committee on Terrorism, probably. She handed him back his shoelaces and fled.

#darcy lewis #darcy x brock #dlaf2019 #glow stick

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aenariasbookshelf · 5 years

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Welcome to crack week 2019, and all the props in the world to @dresupi for doing a fab job coming up with these prompts. The first prompt is, appropriately so, ‘Taser Mishaps’. And, for some reason I like to return to the Dreamsverse when I’m feeling a bit out of sorts. It’s like a comforting old friend, where none of my characters really know what they’re doing in this life, but they’re muddling through anyway. This is utter and total crack, mind you, so please don’t come shouting at me that this scenario isn’t realistic. The entire point is the lack of realism here.

I also have been feeling the strong desire to return to 2012 MCU fandom lately, for all obvious reasons, and so these cracky little ficlets in the Dreamsverse take place over the summer of 2012, a younger, more innocent time for my babies. Although, admittedly, I’m totally pulling some characters from the more recent Marvel movies, definitely inspired by a post from @anais-ninja-bitch of late that spurred on some amazing headcanons.

There are a lot of OCs in this verse, and I’m hitting the ground running with them, so if you want to learn a little more about them, you can find the rest of the Dreamsverse at AO3. If you don’t want to read through five long stories though, here’s what you need to know: 1) recently established Shieldshock where Darcy and Steve are neighbors in Brooklyn 2) Darcy has a LOT of roommates 3) No one knows Steve is Captain America, because his public identity is still secret (oh, it was a more innocent time then, and I’m a total sucker for a secret identity…).

Day 1 - Taser Mishaps

“This will not end well,” Barrett says. His face is pinched with worry, and if the wary expression didn’t give it away, the way his fingertips keep tapping out a staccato beat on the worn windowsill say plenty, also.

Steve looks up at Barrett from his perch halfway down the steps between the fire escapes. There’s already a rough edged rip in his t-shirt where the wrought iron had snagged it, the flaps peeling away to reveal a slice of his muscular chest. Beyond that, the slight claw marks in his skin were showing up nicely red against his pale flesh. “I realize that,” he replies with all of the patience he can muster up, “but what choice to do we have?” His other hand has a thick rope wrapped around it, the other end of which is wrapped a few times around Darcy’s waist, just for extra safety purposes.

“Dude, it’s not my taser; I won’t get arrested for having an illegal weapon in this state!”

“Will you two shut up!” Darcy calls back over her shoulder, reaching around to adjust the rope and stop it from digging into her skin. “The pigeons are getting even madder.”

It was purely an accident that Darcy’s taser had gone out the window. She’d had it out in the kitchen, left on the little counter they’d set up in front of the window for some extra space so she could drop it into her backpack. But the day is one of those summer days, where it’s nice and hot but there’s a breeze coming off the water, and it’s just about perfect as long as you can ignore the ever pervasive smell of hot garbage that seems to emanate from the pores of NYC in the warm weather, and the window was open to get some much needed fresh air in the apartment.

So, of course someone ended up knocking into the counter and sending the taser clattering out of the window. It didn’t fall far, only down to an ancient cement ledge on the story below theirs, but that little trip led to an entirely new set of problems. First, the window behind the ledge had been bricked up ages before, so they couldn’t go through the apartment below theirs to retrieve the taser. Second, the ledge had become overgrown with moss and lichen, making it a wonderfully soft location and protected location for a pigeon couple to set up a nest to keep their eggs warm and cozy.

The taser had landed just beyond the pigeons’ nest, and Mama Pigeon really, really didn’t like Steve, much to his chagrin and everyone else’s amusement during the first retrieval attempt. Which is how Darcy ended up in the makeshift harness trying to reach past one very pissed off pigeon to retrieve her highly illegal non-lethal weapon.

Mama Pigeon wriggles in her nest, and puffs her feathers up, giving Darcy a glare that translates all too well across species. “I know,” Darcy says with a sigh. “Just give me a few seconds and I’ll get out of your way?” she all but begs. She reaches out again, trying to curve her arm up from below so that Mama Pigeon doesn’t see her coming and she can just snatch her taser back.

She moves slowly, with careful intent, and she can feel Steve and Barrett’s eyes following her every move. They’re all so intent on watching Darcy, however, that they don’t see the U-Haul van come to a jolting stop in the alley below them. The passenger side door of the van opens, and another one of the roommates, Jess, steps out to stare gape mouthed at the sight above them. “What the fuck is going on?!” she yells up at the crowd on the fire escape.

“Darcy’s taser got taken hostage by a pigeon!” Barrett yells back.

Darcy twists to give Barrett a glare, which makes Steve scramble to get an even tighter grip on the ropes keeping her in place. “I wasn’t the one who knocked it out the window, butterfingers,” she spits out.

“Can we get this over with before you get arrested for illegal carry? And before you scare off your new roommate?” Steve cocks his head in the direction of the street below, at the young black woman who’d stepped out from the driver’s seat of the van and who had joined Jess in staring up at the chaos above them.

“Ooh, good point.” Darcy twists in the other direction to wave at the new woman, which is enough to make Steve lunge forward, quickly wrapping the loose rope around his forearm, and grab for the waistband of her shorts and at her hip to be certain that she doesn’t fall into the open dumpster in the alley below. “Hi! Monica, right? Welcome to the madhouse!”

Down on the street, Monica slides her eyes over to Jess with a knowing look. “You are very, very lucky that this is not the craziest thing I’ve seen in my life,” she says.

“It’s only Tuesday,” Jess replies with a nonchalant shrug, her eyes still watching the attempt at taser retrieval. “Just wait until the weekend.”

A/n: yes, that Monica. I couldn’t resist. :D

#dlaf2019 #darcy x steve #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #fic #crack week 2019 #my fic #shieldshock #Dreamsverse #including all the OCs #I love my OCs

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stillsixpm · 5 years

Link

Chapters: 4/6 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis Characters: Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes Additional Tags: Darcy Lewis April Fool's Crack Challenge, must include magnets, Eraser, glow sticks, strange ipod locations, mistaken flirtation Series: Part 3 of Adventures in Diplomacy Summary:

They've been around the galaxy a time or two and still haven't killed each other?

They've still got time. Their job isn't done yet, after all.

#dlaf2019 #darcy lewis #darcyland #wintershock #fydl

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fuckyeahdarcylewis · 5 years

Text

Some Offers Shouldn’t Be Refused

by ibelieveinturtles

Darcyland 3rd Annual Crack Challenge

April 1 - Taser Mishaps - (I reused this one from last year, it was so incredibly DARCY and fun, I just had to) Our queen of tasers can’t always hit her target, can she? Something goes wrong, Taser-wise.

Words: 1044, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 28 of Donuts in My Bra and Other Stories

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Brock Rumlow

Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow

Additional Tags: dlaf2019, crack challenge 2019, redeeming!Brock Rumlow

from AO3 works tagged 'Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow' http://bit.ly/2IiZQBB via IFTTT

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow'#darcy x brock rumlow #fanfictions #mcu

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darcy-and-steve · 5 years

Link

by ibelieveinturtles

Darcyland 3rd Annual Crack Challenge

April 2 - An unexplainable predicament to explain - It’s not what it looks like… or maybe it’s exactly what it looks like? Either way, our girl’s gotta explain herself, one way or another!

Words: 1564, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Steve Rogers

Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: dlaf2019, future shieldshock, possibly future wintershieldshock, powered!darcy, teleporting, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Challenge fic

darcysteve love via AO3 works tagged 'Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers'

#darcy x steve #starcy #shieldshock #IFTTT #Feedly

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ao3feed-wintershock · 5 years

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Available For World Ending Apocalyptic Emergencies Only

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2X6bqEw

by SerialObsessor (ibelieveinturtles)

Darcyland 3rd Annual Crack Challenge

April 4 - Must include magnets - Pretty self-explanatory. Any story at all, but with the added fun of magnets.

Words: 1163, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 30 of Donuts in My Bra and Other Stories

Fandoms: Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis

Additional Tags: dlaf2019, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Challenge fic, WinterShock - Freeform, Magnets

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2X6bqEw

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #mcu #wintershock #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #bucky barnes #darcy lewis

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osullivanml · 5 years

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We Apologise For The Inconvenience

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2IBPgWJ

by ibelieveinturtles

Darcyland 3rd Annual Crack Challenge

April 7 - Strange iPod locations - Ever since the Son of Coul took that damn thing, it’s been causing Darcy grief. Where’d she end up finding it? and April 9 - Must include packing peanuts - Organic or styrofoam, you know it really doesn’t matter.

Words: 3424, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 32 of Donuts in My Bra and Other Stories

Fandoms: Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster (Marvel), Phil Coulson, Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins

Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Challenge fic, dlaf2019, Darcy’s iPod, packing peanuts, Rollins secretly videos Darcy’s excavation of the crate and sends it to Rumlow, Darcy schemes revenge, it becomes a long running prank war, they eventually meet, frenemies to lovers probably

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2IBPgWJ

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #FANDOM TAG

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ao3feed-janefoster · 5 years

Text

We Apologise For The Inconvenience

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2IBPgWJ

by ibelieveinturtles

Darcyland 3rd Annual Crack Challenge

Words: 3424, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 32 of Donuts in My Bra and Other Stories

Fandoms: Thor (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster (Marvel), Phil Coulson, Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins

Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2IBPgWJ

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #jane foster

0 notes

dresupi · 5 years

Text

love in a zero-gravity climate

Darcy Lewis Crack Challenge 2019 | Day 8: Anti-Gravity |

Summary:

Darcy’s Tuesday is nothing special. She’s just sliding through a portal into space and helping a shirtless Captain America pilot a SHIELD spaceship back to earth.

All in a day’s work, right?

Steve wasn’t usually in the lab on Tuesdays.

Darcy couldn’t believe that was her final thought before she was sucked cleanly through the hole that had opened up in front of them. She could have had any number of distressing thoughts. Like… “Gee, I hope there’s oxygen where we’re going” or “Gosh, I hope the lifeforms we encounter are friendly.” But no. Her first and only thought as she and Captain America were being slurped into another place in space was the downright KevinSmithsian thought, ‘Steve wasn’t even supposed to be here today.’

Darcy’s day had started off just fine. Up and out of bed after only hitting the snooze three times. That had to be some kind of a personal record for her. She’d grabbed coffee for herself and Jane, arriving at the lab only a few minutes later than her scheduled time, as opposed to her usual half an hour late.

Like always, her boss was working diligently. Possibly through the night, but Darcy had delegated that particular worry to one of the lab’s many interns. Scientist wrangling was behind her. She was only here to make enough money to pay off her student loans. And to work alongside her bestie. After she’d done that? The sky was the limit.

Meaning she hadn’t really figured things out that far in advance.

But that was really, okay, wasn’t it?

Jane was testing some portal gun, Darcy wasn’t sure of the exact logistics, but there was definitely some theoretical math involved because Janey had filled three whiteboards with her calculations.

Much of the morning was spent calibrating some of the more touchy equipment so Jane could pull the trigger thingie on the portal gun and swear at it for not working.

Or at least, that’s what Dr. Foster was doing. Whether that was what Jane had in mind for her Tuesday was up for debate.

Darcy left for lunch, bringing something up for Jane on her way back. It was then that she noticed the Star Spangled Man with a Plan himself. He was standing over near Tony talking in a very low and solemn tone if the expression on his face was any indication.

He was wearing a white t-shirt and jogging pants. Sneakers.

So he was probably fresh from the gym. Or headed there afterward. Yeah, definitely that second one because he wasn’t sweaty or anything.

But did he sweat, though? Darcy nearly toppled over a rolling cart that Jane had pushed away, too deep in her thoughts to notice its existence until it stopped her from moving forward. She ran into it, hitting her hip, which smarted and made a hugely loud racket that she really hoped no one heard.

They did hear it. Of fucking course.

It interrupted Steve and Tony’s discussion of boring and brought Steve over to inquire as to whether or not she was okay. “Are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing with a worry that made her cheeks feel hot. Why was Steve Rogers worried about her clumsiness?

She wasn’t okay, but it wasn’t because of the cart. And she didn’t know how to tell him that, so she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, but no sound came out at first. Dumb nerves.

It was at that precise moment in which Jane pressed the button on the doohickey gun again, opening up a swirling, sparkling black hole in front of Darcy and Steve.

Darcy let out a tiny screech as the hole’s force pulled her towards it, the absent thought of ‘Steve wasn’t usually in the lab on Tuesdays,” floated through her head. She heard Jane’s frantic voice calling her name. Or the beginning of it, anyway. Just “Dar!”

And that was as far as Darcy got before the wormhole spit herself and Steve out and closed behind them.

She panicked the second she opened her eyes.

Floating. They were floating.

She sucked in a deep breath and was met with no resistance. No horrible feeling like her lungs were about to explode or she was going to drown.

“Leapin’ fucknuts,” she exclaimed, reaching out to brush her fingertips over the wall of the room they were in.

No. Not a room. There were windows. A windshield. Some kind of crazy piloting apparatus. And nothing but black sky and stars out the front windshield. It was small, the area. No longer than about twelve feet of ‘walking’ space from the windshield to the back of the craft.

“I was going to go with ‘holy shit’, but yours is better,” Steve said, chuckling a little as he floated past. Below her. He seemed oddly calm for someone thrust into zero gravity in outer freaking space.

“Where are we?” Darcy asked, looking around rapidly for something to hold onto. She settled for what could have passed as a towel rack on the ceiling, clinging to it like a scared cat on a tree branch. “Does any of this look familiar to you?”

“This certainly feels familiar,” Steve muttered, probably thinking she wouldn’t hear him. But she did. She really fucking did and she wished she hadn’t.

He used the floor grate to pull himself forward and to push up. His eyes scanned the room as he floated up to the ceiling. “Actually, this does look familiar… I think this a SHIELD ship…”

Darcy hated that he used the word ‘ship’ and not ‘plane’ or ‘quinjet’.

“Does that mean you know how to pilot it?” she asked hopefully.

He made a scoffing sound. “Not a ship like this. I only know planes. But I do know there’s a comm under the pilot’s seat. Emergency backup battery. We should be able to contact someone on the ground and let them know we’re here. And we can get further instructions that way.”

Steve pushed off the ceiling and Darcy heard a tiny tearing sound.

Alarmed, she looked up just in time to see Steve’s white t-shirt fluttering past so she was treated to an eyeful of Captain Pecs and his Glorious Abs.

Steve either didn’t notice or figured it was a lost cause in the situation they were in. Either way, he didn’t address it. Instead, he rummaged around under the pilot’s seat. He found the comm right where he said it’d be.

He sent out a call. “This is Captain Rogers… I’m not sure where I am, but I know I’m in outer space. There’s a civilian with me, get back soon. Over.”

A voice, clear as crystal responded. “Come again, Captain? Over.”

Steve planted his feet on the ceiling and repeated his message, only to be treated to a long silence.

“How are you there, when we just clocked you in NYC?”

He glanced back at Darcy for confirmation and she floated over, grabbing the comm. “I work for Dr. Jane Foster. She was working on an interdimensional wormhole generator and might have accidentally sent us here. Wherever ‘here’ is. Uh. Over.”

The man on the other side didn’t miss a beat. “Is she in NYC as well? Because I have on file a frantic call from that area thirty seconds ago. Lots of screaming, something about a wormhole? Over.”

“Affirmative, over,” Steve replied.

Darcy pressed her hand to her heart. Her Janey was already looking for her.

“Okay, we’ll get more info once you’re back on Earth. In the meantime, we’ll get the power reserves turned back on. It’ll take a little while, but the only other way is to switch it on manually from the outside. You’d need a space suit. There are two on board, but neither of you is trained for that. “

Steve got some kind of look in his eyes, handing the comm to Darcy, who hurriedly signed off and floated after Steve, having to push off the windshield to do so.

She’d have no way of actually stopping Captain America in normal situations. But since there was no gravity, she could wrap her arms around his waist and yank him backward if she hooked her feet around the headrest on the pilot’s chair. Which she did.

And it really was a power trip, watching that muscley fella fly backward every time he made for the back of the ship, to where the space suits were.

“Let me go,” he said, attempting to spin around and just ending up spinning himself in place.

Darcy tried not to laugh, but it was hard.

“Stop it. I’ve been trapped on a doomed ship before,” he reiterated. Like she didn’t know.

“I know, dude. Everyone knows what you did. You’re in every US History book. Is this some kind of claustrophobia or…”

“No. I signed up for this. You didn’t.”

Darcy tilted her head, throwing a look his way that could have frozen ice if they were back on earth. “Dude. Do you think I didn’t sign up for this? My boss is a renowned astrophysicist. I handled the Dark Elf invasion. And I totally beat Thor in hand to hand combat.”

“You tased him while he was weakened,” Steve retorted. “And no. You didn’t sign up for perilous situations like this.”

“First of all, don’t take my victory away from me. I know you’re freaking out a little, but really. There’s no need to be rude. I’d never tell you that you didn’t beat Thor in hand-to-hand combat.”

Steve smirked. “I beat Thor in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Okay, not to be a stickler, but you didn’t. I did. Weakened form still counts.”

“Fine, you beat Thor and I didn’t. But--”

“Look, I’m an agent with SHIELD too. I’m learning self-defense from the Black Widow. I have a badge thingie just like you do. My clearance level isn’t as high, but whatever. The point is, I signed up for this, knowing damn well something like this would happen. And I’ll be damned if Captain 1940s-Booty-Shorties is going to manhandle me into a submissive role!”

He stopped struggling, but it didn’t matter much, it was still spinning them around until he reached out and placed his palm against the wall. “1940s Nooty Shorties?”

“I saw the pics, Cap. I know those were booty shorts and tights.”

He smirked a little and stopped trying to ditch her.

“Fine. So we’ll just sit here until they turn the remote power on?”

“We can thank our lucky stars that there’s oxygen in here,” Darcy mused as they slowly spun around the cockpit. Like the slowest and least controllable 3D tour ever.

“Not to burst your bubble, but I think it might be limited to what’s already here. The fact that we came from a place with oxygen also probably helped matters. Some got sucked in with us through the wormhole.”

“And you’ve been sucking it down in your attempt to Herosplain this situation to me?” she gasped, clapping one hand over her mouth.

“You mean save you? Because my argument was that I was the best candidate to go on a spacewalk and turn on the backup power.”

“No. I mean herosplain me. Like I didn’t fight the Dark Elves and I don’t know you have some kind of superhero complex about self-worth and whatever.”

“Touche…” he replied. “I won’t do that again, sorry. I was just…”

Darcy filled in for him. “You were just being Captain America. But I think this situation calls for Steve.”

“Steve, I can do. I think.” He reached out for one of the handles. “So… you wanna turn flips or something to pass the time?”

“I don’t really believe that you aren’t going to make a break for that space suit, but actually, yes? I’ve always wanted to have a zero-gravity flip contest.”

She had to yank him back from the space suits three times, and from the look on his face, he could probably keep this up all day. But so could she.

Darcy resolved the situation by wrapping both arms around his bare waist and hanging on for dear life.

“Are you going to hug me all day until the gravity comes back?” Steve asked, a smile apparent in his voice.

Darcy shrugged. “Maybe? You can’t go outside with a whole-ass me attached to you.”

“Fine, but I’m hugging you too.” He proceeded to twist in her arms and wrap his beefy biceps of justice around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head. She almost let go of him, but she had a sneaking suspicion that was what he wanted.

She sniffed. “Why are you hugging me? I’m not going anywhere.” She glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his for a long moment.

“Okay. Me either,” he conceded.

She snorted. “Ha, LIke I actually believe you”

“You don’t believe Captain America?” Steve joked. “I stand for truth, justice, and freedom. If you can’t trust me, you can’t trust anybody.”

“Yup, that’s right,” she replied, her arms tightening around his body, pressing her cheek snugly to his shoulder. “I’m not falling for that, Rogers.”

“Fine by me. I’m enjoying this.”

So was she, but she kind of wasn’t going to tell him that.

Their little cuddle-fest was interrupted just a few seconds later.

“Captain Rogers? This is SHIELD Mission Control. We’re turning on the gravity boosters and are ready to talk you through your return flight to earth. Are you ready? Over.”

Darcy felt Steve laugh a little. “I feel like I should ask for ten more minutes…”

“How about I give you double that when we land back on terrain I’m familiar with?” Darcy asked.

“What do I do with my twenty minutes?” he asked.

“That’s entirely up to you,” she replied, cheekily

He smiled that genuine smile of his that had ceased being about honor and patriotism and had started being something that made Darcy a little weak in the knees. Gravity or no.

“We’re ready, SMC. Tell us what to do first, over.”

Darcy couldn’t help but smile a little. She had plans. With a guy. To land a spaceship and spend twenty minutes doing… well, the specifics didn’t matter. She was making plans. Apparently, the sky wasn’t the limit anymore.

Not bad for a regular Tuesday, honestly.

#Shieldshock #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #Darcy/Steve #dlaf2019 #Crack Challenge

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ibelieveinturtles · 5 years

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Darcyland Crack Challenge

April 2 - An unexplainable predicament to explain - It’s not what it looks like… or maybe it’s exactly what it looks like? Either way, our girl’s gotta explain herself, one way or another!

With more time and about twice as many words this would probably be twice as good but it’ll do for now... just pretend there’s 1000 words of mutual pining or something preceding this...

again, un-beta’d etc.

“But what is it?” Darcy asked, turning the pencil-shaped metal rod over in her hands. “And what does it do?”

“I don’t know,” Jane replied, shrugging as she examined her own unidentified piece of metal. “It was in a box of junk I found in the warehouse a few weeks ago. As far as I can tell, it isn’t anything.”

“It has to be something. Ouch!” Darcy turned it over one last time before abruptly dropping it onto the desk and sticking her finger in her mouth.

“Are you okay?” Jane asked, a concerned frown wrinkling her brow.

“It bit me,” Darcy said, a sulky pout pursing her lips.

“Inanimate objects can’t bite, Darcy.”

“Tell that to your metal biting stick,” Darcy retorted. “See? I'm bleeding! Anyway, I have to go now. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yep.” Jane didn’t look up as Darcy left, just waved a hand in farewell.

Darcy completely forgot about the strange metal stick that had stuck her over the next several hours. She busily went about her day, running errands, taking (and making) phone calls, and generally keeping busy. After her work day finished she trudged back to the apartment she shared with Jane and peered tiredly into the fridge. It was just as empty now as it was this morning because she forgot to put the grocery order in yesterday. She didn't get it done today, either.

She was about to reach for the eggs when the memory of half a leftover lasagne surfaced in her brain. It was probably still in the common area’s kitchen freezer! Shutting the fridge door, she spun on her heel and came to an abrupt halt as she ran straight into the kitchen island counter.

Which was odd because she didn't have an island counter in her kitchen. The only kitchen big enough for an island counter was- was the kitchen in the Avengers common room.

She was still staring confusedly at the marble benchtop when the door burst open, releasing a veritable torrent of Avengers into the common room.

“Darcy!” Clint greeted her with an enthusiastic grin. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“What?” Darcy looked up. “Um. Nothing. I was just, um. Lasagne.” With a little mental shake she flashed a grin at the group. “I forgot to order groceries for me and Jane and then I remembered that leftover lasagne from the other week and I'm really hoping it's still in the freezer.”

Steve - who was already at the freezer - pulled the package out. “Still here,” he said, peering around the door at her, “but we're ordering pizza if you'd like to join us?”

“Oh, um.” Any other day Darcy would jump at the chance to have pizza with the team Steve but right now she just wanted to get out of here so she could freak out. “Thanks but I'm really tired and I just want a quiet night in. Maybe next time?”

“You're sure? It's from that nice family store you like so much.”

“Yeah, I just- I'm very tired,” she repeated. She stepped close enough to take the container and with a “Thanks,” and a short smile, went back to her apartment, put the lasagne in the oven to reheat, and freaked out until it was ready to eat.

Darcy slept fitfully that night, getting up to the bathroom twice, and tossing and turning more than the chefs at the Pancake Palace. She woke up with scratchy eyes, a slight headache, and a wish that it was Saturday. A shower helped a little bit she still hadn’t done the grocery order and was all out of cereal and coffee. At least she had milk…

She zombied her way through the first hour or two of work. And while the coffee in the break room was tolerable, it wasn’t really what she wanted - and it certainly wasn’t good enough to see her through the four meetings she had scheduled today.

The first meeting was with the Avengers to discuss which publicity opportunities they wanted to take, and who would be attending each one. Luckily it was an easy discussion as each team member preferred attending different types of events. Steve made a point of asking if she felt better today, and after the meeting Natasha hung back for the same purpose.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked. “Do you feel better after your quiet night in?”

Darcy smiled as she replied. “Ugh. Not really. I didn’t sleep very well and I still haven’t done my groceries, so I’m all out of decent coffee.”

“There’s plenty of coffee in the common room - you know you’re welcome any time.”

“Thanks, Natasha. I might just visit after my next meeting.”

After a bit more conversation Natasha left for training and Darcy headed for her next meeting. At least it was a teleconference so she didn’t actually have to share a room with anyone this time.

By the time her next meeting finished, all she wanted was an egg and bacon croissant and the biggest, strongest cup of coffee money could buy.

As soon as the last person left the teleconference, she picked up her purse, pocketed her phone and stood up.

The world blurred.

Darcy blinked to clear her vision and took an off-balance step backwards. “Oh no, not again,” she moaned. She was in the main foyer of the facility, hidden from view by a large potted tree that lived right next to the coffee cart.

She continued turning on the spot, confused and disoriented. Unfortunately, all this achieved was dizziness.

“Get a grip, Lewis,” she muttered. “Coffee. Maybe I just need coffee so badly that I don’t remember leaving my office and taking the elevator to the lobby. Yeah, that must be it. I zoned out, auto-piloted.”

Darcy bought coffee and a croissant, and then concentrated very hard on everything she did until she got back to her office.

Over the next several days Darcy experienced several more of the strange incidents. She would be busy doing something, and then suddenly she’d find herself somewhere completely different.

Maria’s office after she realised she’d left her phone behind.

The bathrooms in the east wing when the west wing ones were closed due to a burst pipe.

Tony’s (empty) workshop when she needed him to sign some urgent paperwork but had forgotten he wasn’t here this week.

The stationery storeroom when her pen broke, spilling ink everywhere.

A broom cupboard.

And then… and then one evening she got home after a very long and stressful day, kicked off her shoes and went to collapse on her sofa...

Only the sofa she landed on wasn’t hers.

And it wasn’t in her apartment.

And it was already occupied.

She leapt up with a startled squawk, turning around so quickly she almost fell back into the lap of- “Steve? Why are you on my sofa?”

Steve was just as startled as Darcy. There he was, enjoying a nice relaxing lay-back-with-your-eyes-closed-but-don’t-fall-asleep on his sofa when a lap full of Darcy Lewis appeared out of nowhere.

He knew she hadn’t come in via the door or the vents or any other way because he would have heard it. Nope, he’d been definitely the only person in his apartment.

“Darcy?”

But Darcy wasn’t listening. She was looking around in bewilderment at furniture, furnishings, and decorations that definitely weren’t hers.

“Wait- this isn’t my apartment?”

“Ah, no - it’s mine? How did you get here?”

“I- I don’t know?” She turned worried eyes on him. “I was in my apartment, sitting on my sofa. What the hell happened, Steve?”

“You appeared out of nowhere and landed in my lap. That’s what happened,” Steve said, sitting up and leaning forward.

Darcy frowned at him. “What do you mean, I appeared out of nowhere?”

Steve shrugged, never taking his eyes off the visibly shaken woman standing in front of him. “One minute I was here on my own, the next you were sitting in my lap.”

“So- I didn’t walk here?”

“Not that I saw or heard. You just - appeared.”

“What? Like a- a teleport or something?”

Steve thought about this for a moment and then stared at Darcy with curious worry. “Yeah. Exactly like a teleport.”

“What the hell? How, Steve? Why is this happening to me? I thought I was just- I dunno, blacking out or something.” Darcy’s voice became more frantic with each word.

Steve only just managed to hide his shock at Darcy’s words. “Darcy - has this happened before?”

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s been happening for several days now. One minute I’m in one place, the next I’m somewhere completely different.”

Steve stood up. “You’ve been experiencing this for several days and you haven’t told anyone?”

She shook her head, and he could see she was shaking. He took a careful step closer, moving slowly so as not to spook her. “How about I take you to medical and we’ll get you checked out?”

“You think something’s wrong with me?”

Steve chose his words carefully. “No, but I do think something about you must have changed if you’ve suddenly started teleporting all over the place. Don’t you want to know why it’s happening?”

She glanced up him, bottom lip caught between her teeth and nodded. Steve offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and held his hand out. “Come on then.”

#dlaf2019 #darcy lewis #steve rogers #future shieldshock #maybe even future wintershieldshock #teleporting

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yespumpkindoodlesthings · 5 years

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Margaritas, Dolores, and the Dead Girl

Darcyland Crack Challenge 2019 Day 1: Taser Mishaps

“Janey, I’m so excited, my new fancy-dancy Tony Stark taser is here,” Darcy said, shaking the cardboard box with the labels that said Stark Industries on the side.

“Fancy Dancy?” Jane said, looking up from her laptop. She was calibrating something. Or defibrillating? Darcy wasn’t entirely certain. Now that they had a nice SHIELD-funded lab in DC, Darcy’s assistant work was mostly comprised of feeding Jane, instead of duct-taping equipment or dodging sparks. A good thing, as Martha would say.

“So fancy it makes you want to dance,” Darcy said, doing the Running Man. Just for funsies. “We need to go out tonight to celebrate,” Darcy said. “Let’s get margaritas and fried ice cream, since the gang is out of town.” Steve, Thor, Nat, and their STRIKE support team were off fighting blobby jellyfish-like aliens in the Great Lakes. Darcy had already doodled a sketch of Mew-Mew making one go splat with her colored pencils today.

“I need to monitor these vectors,” Jane said.

“Isn’t there an app for that?” Darcy said.

“No.”

“Please?” Darcy said, pouting.

“No.”

“Pwetty please?” She stuck her bottom lip out and tried to look like a Precious Moments doll. Even blinked a little.

“Okay, fine,” Jane said. “But just for an hour, okay? Then back to work.”

***

“I love pineapple margaritas!” Darcy said, approximately three hours later. “And salsa. But not all mixed together, that would be bad.” Her favorite DC Mexican place had ranchera music and gave you free extra sour cream.

“But pineapple salsa is good?” Jane said.

“Oh, you’re right. We should do this more often. You’re always right. Do I tell you that enough?” Darcy said.

“No,” Jane said, laughing. “God, I missed Mexican food when we were broke and living on the fjords. But never tell Fury that I said that!” Jane yelled. “Or Thor. It might hurt his feelings if he knew how much you hate lutefisk!” A lot of Norwegian food was Asgardian. Or vice versa. That, Darcy thought, was why Asgardians drank so much.

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I vow to never hurt Thor’s feelings by confessing my feelings about the true horror that is New Scandinavian cooking.”

“Agreed,” Jane said.

“Let’s shake on it?” Darcy said. They shook hands with mock-solemnity, then burst out laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” Jane said.

“No, you are. But guess what I just realized?” Darcy said.

“What?” Jane said.

“It’s Dolores’s birthday!” Darcy said.

“I think we need to make this official with fried ice cream,” Jane said, waving down their waiter. “We’d like fried cream,” she said.

“Strawberry or chocolate?” he asked.

“Both?” Darcy offered.

“Both,” Jane said, nodding. “This is a special occasion. A birthday.”

“It’s a birthday, huh?” he said. “Whose birthday?”

“My baby’s. She was just delivered today,” Darcy said seriously.

“Oh,” he said. “Congratulations on your surrogacy?” the waiter offered, looking confused and yet like he wanted to be polite.

“Thank you!” Jane said. The waiter walked away.

“Taser surrogacy,” Darcy said, laughing.

“Maybe I should think about surrogacy for real?” Jane said.

“Why?” Darcy asked.

“I’m imagining the size of an Asgardian baby,” Jane said, eyes wide with alarm.

“Oh em gee,” Darcy said. “Ten pound baby.”

“Yeah,” Jane said seriously.

“And you’re not tall. Frigga was tall. Your pelvis is probably more narrow than hers.”

“Shit,” Jane said, “you’re right.”

***

They took an Uber back to Darcy’s apartment first. Darcy drunk-dialed Jane’s phone while they were still in the backseat of Declan the Uber driver’s Civic. “I don’t mind to imply you’re a nef-nefarious murderer,” Darcy told the driver, “but this is part of our security protocol. We stay on the phone until both of us are safely home.” He nodded. Declan was a grad student in philosophy at GWU.

“She listens to a lot of murder podcasts,” Jane said.

“Pretty much all podcasts are murder podcasts, right?” he said.

“Yes!” Jane said. “There’s this great Alice Bolan essay about the character of the ‘dead girl’ in true crime--”

“Excuse me! Excuse me, sometimes I listen to podcasts about Watergate. Or hot air balloons! It’s not all dead girls,” Darcy said, listing slightly sideways. Declan laughed. “Wait, this is my stop!” she called out. Declan pulled up to the curb. “All righty. Stay on the line. I got Dolores,” Darcy said.

“Who’s Dolores?” Declan asked.

“Her taser,” Jane said.

“She’s the smartest, sparkiest taser ever,” Darcy said, patting her purse. “Wooo. Off I go. Declan, no murdering Jane, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“My boyfriend’s real scary, too,” Darcy said.

“And my boyfriend,” Jane said.

“He’s got a real big hammer,” Darcy said, dissolving into giggles.

Darcy was unlocking her apartment door when she heard a sound. “It’s coming from the inside!” she hissed into her phone.

“What?” Jane said.

“There’s someone inside,” Darcy whispered, creeping into the darkened apartment. “They’re taking a shower in my shower. The water just cut off!”

“Darce,” Jane said. “I’ll be right there! Get out! Get out!” Darcy heard her tell Declan to turn around.

“Nuh-uh,” Darcy said. “Nobody uses my loofah and gets away with it. I’mma get ‘em. If this is some HYDRA asshole…” she said, hitting the power button on the taser, “Dolores is going to make him pay. Big time.” The door to the bedroom opened and a figure moved in the dark hallway. Darcy aimed her taser and fired. “Eat a billion volts, HYDRA asshole!” she yelled, as the prongs connected. The figure jolted a fraction, but didn’t fall immediately. There was an audible crackling sound. Right then, Darcy’s phone call with Jane went staticky and cut out. “Shit, shit,” she muttered, as the figure slumped against the wall, then slid to the floor slowly.

“Sweetheart?” it said, sounding confused. Darcy recognized that voice.

“Oh no!” Darcy yelled, flipping on the hall light. Brock Rumlow was sitting on the floor, clad only in a pair of sweatpants. “You’re back? I thought you were on Lake Superior?”

“You know,” he said, rubbing a scarred hand against the prongs on his chest. “Just ‘cause I’ve got a higher pain tolerance now doesn’t mean I can’t feel anything.” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry! So sorry! Like, accidentally hit someone with your car door in the Target parking lot sorry, babe,” she said, kneeling next to him and prying off the taser prongs. “I thought you were, like, a HYDRA goon.”

“Why do people always think that about me?” he said smirking slowly. His scars twisted when he smiled. “Is it something about my face?” he asked playfully, tapping her nose. Darcy was leaning in for an enthusiastic apology kiss when there was a clatter behind them.

“Ahhhhh!” Jane yelled, waving a baton. Then she stopped. “Oh,” she said. “It’s just you. No murderers?”

“Nope,” Darcy said.

“Who armed Jane with a pointy thing?” Brock asked, tilting his head.

“Natasha’s teaching me single-stick fighting,” Jane said. “Is everyone back?”

“Yeah,” Brock said, shifting his weight forward, so he could rise. Darcy rubbed his arm. “Got back about twenty minutes ago. Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Sorry. Dolores didn’t mean to shock you, I swear,” Darcy said, brushing his hair back.

“Oh, no,” Jane said, suddenly heading for the door.

“What?” Darcy yelled.

“I gotta tell Declan to call off 9-1-1!” Jane yelled. *** Takes place in the same AU as Late Halloween on A03.

#darcyland #dlaf2019 #darcy x brock #darcy lewis #crackship #did i do it right #same AU as my Late Halloween #triple agent rumlow

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aenariasbookshelf · 5 years

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Day two - an unexplainable predicament to explain

Crackfic week, day two: an unexplainable predicament to explain. Follows directly on from yesterday’s Dreamsverse ficlet, which can be found here. All the necessary notes for understanding the Dreamsverse can be found there also, especially the whole summer of 2012 and secret identity bits. These are incredibly fun to write, and they’ve been a great balm for the soul these days, so all love to @dresupi for coming up with this idea. Un-beta’ed and definitely not quality checked, because I am tired and this isn’t getting posted to AO3 just yet.

Someday I’ll write out how Darcy ended up being friends with Monica Rambeau in the Dreamsverse, but that won’t be today. Today is for cracky goodness. More author’s notes at the end of the ficlet, because spoilers. ;)

Day two - an unexplainable predicament to explain

It’s one of those days when Darcy is infinitely grateful she’s an office temp, because it means she’s not obligated to be upright and moving at the crack of dawn, unlike most of the people she knows. The bad thing about crashing at Steve’s apartment after a night full of various suspect cocktails, however, is that there’s that one ray of blinding sunlight coming through the window that manages to drive a spike of pain right into her cranium. She groans lowly, pulling Steve’s unoccupied pillow over her head to block the rest of the world out.

Darcy fully blames the judicious application of tequila the night before for her current state. She and Jess had dragged Monica out to welcome her to the apartment, and they’d ended up at a hole in the wall bad somewhere on Smith Street, pounding back more shots than any sane person should. Things got a little blurry after that. At least from what little Darcy can recollect. There may have been some wandering about, attempting to find the right subway station, she thinks. Then there was also, possibly, an encounter with a police officer. She remembers the blue uniform at least.

Eventually, they’d managed to pour themselves into a cab to get home, and once they got there Jess had leaned on Steve’s doorbell loud and long until he could “come show his drunken girlfriend a good time,” in the words of Jess and Monica at least. Steve, however, was far too much of a gentleman to do anything out of sorts, much to Darcy’s chagrin, and she has some fuzzy memories of him sweeping her up into his arms, carrying her into his bed, stripping off her going out clothes, and making her drink some water and some pills before she collapsed totally.

There’s a small noise behind her, footsteps most likely, and she peels the pillow off of her head to see Steve walking into the bedroom, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. “Oh my god; you’re the best,” Darcy groans. With a powerful wince she pushes herself upright, holding her hands out for the life giving liquid.

“I’d ask how you feel,” Steve says carefully, settling himself down on the bed next to her, “but I recognize that look of pain all too well.”

“Well, I don’t quite want to die,” Darcy mumbles. Gingerly, she blows across the top of the mug and takes a sip, scorching her tongue just a little bit. “But my head’s got a marching band in it and I don’t quite remember everything about last night. So do with that what you will.”

“You were pretty giggly when you got in,” Steve confirms with an indulgent grin. “But as soon as you hit the bed, you were out.”

“That sounds about right.” She heaves a deep sigh, and looks down at the oversized shirt of Steve’s that’s become her pajamas when she stays over there (if she ends up wearing pajamas. Which, admittedly, doesn’t happen all that frequently). “I should shower. Get the stink of last night off of me.”

There’s a sharp rap at the door, which makes both of their heads swivel in the direction of the sound. “You expecting anyone?” Darcy asks.

“No.” Steve pushes himself off the bed, jaw clenched, and leaves to go answer the door. In the seconds it takes for that to happen, Darcy forces down the pain in her head and finds Steve’s bathrobe, to try and cover herself up a little more completely than just a t-shirt would. By the time she’s covered up and her head poking out of the bedroom, Steve’s back with a rather smug looking Monica trailing behind him. She holds up a loaded paper bag once she spots Darcy. “I come bearing greasy breakfast sandwiches. According to Jess it’s a traditional New York hangover breakfast.”

“Bless you,” Darcy sighs. The grabby hands come out again and soon she’s tearing into the sandwich, cheesy bacon and eggs making themselves at home in her mouth.

“Figure you’d need that after last night anyway,” Monica says. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the doorway to the living room, a smirk stealing across her lips. “You were having the best time out of all of us.”

“Don’t remind me,” Darcy grumbles, trying her hardest not to acknowledge the look of smug amusement Steve’s got on his face. “Actually, please do, because my brain’s still fuzzy.”

Monica’s smirk grows even more, and Darcy can feel her stomach drop out from under her. She blames it on the hangover. “Oh, you mean where you almost got arrested for groping a statue?” she states, ever so casually.

“I what?!” Darcy chokes out, a bit of her sandwich getting lodged in her throat for just a moment. She coughs to clear it out, but even over that she can hear Monica’s cackling.

“Wait, really?” Steve asks, and if Darcy wasn’t feeling as crap as she did she’d hit him for sounding far too amused at her predicament.

“Uh-huh,” Monica grins. “So, apparently, or at least according to the legend the cop told me last night, because we know fuck all about the truth,” she begins, the Louisiana drawl in her voice becoming even more pronounced as she settles into her story, “Captain America’s a good ol’ local boy from around here, and so they put a statue up right in front of the Barclay’s Center downtown. After we left the bar last night we got a little turned around and ended up in front of the subway stop there, which coincidentally has the statue placed right outside of it.” She shrugs, giving Darcy a look that can only be called impish. “You did say you were feeling affectionate.”

Darcy pointedly ignores the slight sounds of Steve’s disbelieving choking in the background in favor of gingerly taking the phone Monica’s handing her. She winces again at the sight of the picture, featuring her in all of her glory, a shit eating grin on her face, a hand splayed over the star in the center of the bronze Cap’s chest, and a leg that looked like it was attempting to wrap across his thighs but instead just sort of crookedly draped over it. “Oh, god,” she moans. “I can explain?”

Steve’s still making those weird little choking noises in the background, but as Darcy’s pretty sure he’s not dying of embarrassment, she looks down at the picture again. “Actually, I can’t explain? Maybe the tequila can? Or maybe I just wanted to pay homage to a local hero? Because the pecs of freedom there are pretty impressive.” She shakes her head, her fingers clenching around the cellphone. The hysterical part of it all is that Darcy is fairly certain that her original, drunken statement of feeling affection was entirely accurate, because if she couldn’t have her boyfriend and his super duper secret identity hanging out with her on girls’ night, the bronze replica was the next best thing. Even if, up close and personal, the statue didn’t look at all like Steve, really.

The memory is too little too late, but it’s enough to pass the warm flush taking over her cheeks off as embarrassment instead of affection.

“Can you send me a copy of that picture?” Steve asks, his voice breaking through her fuzzy thoughts.

Before Darcy can react and delete the offending picture, Monica gleefully snatches her phone back and dashes the pic over to Steve, creating copies for all of them to enjoy. “Public fucking menaces,” Darcy groans.

“You did say I needed to change my phone background from the default,” Steve points out, which sets Monica cackling again and Darcy burying her face in the nearest throw pillow because really, all of her friends were assholes.

**********

A/n: Okay, so while I may have fudged the real world dates a bit, the Captain America statue in Brooklyn is a real thing, and at one point in time it was actually located in front of the Barclay’s Center (and yeah, one time when I was meeting my sister and cousins there for a hockey game, I did in fact get a text saying that they were standing in front of the Captain America statue, which is probably one of the crackiest text messages I’ve ever received in my whole life, which is saying a lot). The statue has since been moved to a new location, if I recall correctly, doing a tour of the borough before it lands in its permanent placement in Prospect Park.

Last I heard the Cap statue was set up in the entryway of a Bed, Bath, and Beyond way in the depths of Brooklyn in Sunset Park, of all places. Only in Brooklyn, of course.

#dlaf2019 #darcy x steve #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #fic #shieldshock #crack week 2019 #Dreamsverse #Monica Rambeau #who totally does have a backstory in this verse - i just haven't put it to paper yet

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