#probablyunnecessary

[dresupi]

Darcy/Rumlow - Sleep Intimacy

for @probablyunnecessary​

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The only sound in the entire apartment was the ticking of the clock out in the kitchen.  Darcy was still awake, though. She was trying to keep her breathing level as she stared up into the ceiling and relished the close contact with her boyfriend.

Not that she was starved for his touch or anything.  She wasn’t. He touched her plenty. Held her too. Brock was a very hands-on sort of guy in the romantic sense. He could hoist her into his arms with little to no issue, press her against the mattress and run those long fingers through her hair… she adored the way he touched her while he was awake.

But when he was sleeping, he was like a big teddy bear.  His limbs felt heavy where they were draped across her, one leg slung up across both of hers, one arm across her belly, the other behind her neck like some kind of a muscly pillow. Which was an image she was quick to dispel because that wasn’t what she wanted to think about right now.

His breath ruffled her hair, and every so often he nuzzled her throat, cheeks rough like sandpaper against her skin, as he inhaled her scent deeply and cuddled her tighter.

Late nights meant he got cuddly. Especially in his sleep. And Darcy, for one, couldn’t go to sleep without witnessing just a few of the cuddles. Or maybe more than a few. Because his touches while asleep were just as intoxicating.

[spectralarchers]

The new James Bond looks soooo great!! J’ai hâte 😍

It's going to be so fucking FANTASTIC! I haven't been this excited since Spectre and I can't fucking WAIT.

So many questions!!! So much to figure out!!! So much Daniel Craig goodies!!!!!!! That polo!!! And Blofeld!!! And!!!!!

Aaaaaaahhhhh, it's gonna be so great!!!

[paranoidwino]

Heya! How are you doing with everything going on right now? You ok?

My dearest! I’m fine, I promise. My seasonal cold has started before this outbreak, so I’ve been bundled up for WEEKS before this thing. I go out the house once a week to get the food, wear gloves and wash my hads. We’re fine for now, thank you

[luninosity]

I read a Prophecy for Two and it was lovely and wonderful and sweet and adorable. I have a bit of a crush on Fadi and I looooved reading his romance with Beryl. Such a feel good read!!

Yaaaay thank you!! *all the hugs*

Fadi is one of my absolute favorites. He’s the sort of person who - unlike Oliver, for one - is very good at knowing what he wants and what he’s good at, and he’s one of the few people who can scold two princes into behaving better. He’s totally the Mom Friend, but, like, the Cool Young Mom Friend. (”Tir, did you bring a jacket? Are you warm enough? Did you eat something? Everyone properly hydrated? OKAY THEN LET’S GO TASTE ALL THE MEAD, AND ALSO, YES, I DO LOOK DAMN GOOD IN THIS OUTFIT, THANK YOU FOR SAYING SO.”)

He deserves someone equally nice but also…a complement, in terms of personalities: someone who’s maybe been a bit under-appreciated or overlooked, but who will do quietly kind things like think of saying thank you to someone, or paying attention to someone’s interests and bringing the exact right gift, without a ton of fanfare. Hence, a Beryl. :D :D

[ragwitch]

That's ok :) Wintershieldshock & 30 then?

Yaaaay!! Thanks for the prompt!

30. ‘I’m really sorry I tried to decapitate you but this is why no one should plan a zombie flash mob.’

Pairing: Darcy/Bucky/Steve

Rating: G

Darcy stepped back and stared between the three Avengers, two towering over her and pushing the third behind them as he sank to his knees clutching at the metal arm she had just electrically fried.

“Oops,” she said, and dropped the fire emergency axe she’d grabbed off the stairwell wall. It was meant as a gesture of peace but mostly she realized it left her defenseless against an extremely irate and gruesomely costumed Captain America and Falcon.

“You okay, Buck?” Captain America asked, voice snapping and eyes never straying from their fixed glare on Darcy’s face. A little bit of fake rot flaked off his firm jaw line as he clenched it.

“That should not have worked,” Bucky rasped, staggering up again, and trying to shake his cybernetic arm awake again.

“Umm…Tony Asgardian proofed my taser,” Darcy explained, hoping to be helpful. “In case of Loki…Or Thor if the good for nothing ever decides to show his face around here and explain to me why he thought it was okay to take the last of my triple chocolate gelato with him on his way off Earth.”

Falcon’s right eye blinked and the loose eyeball hanging out the left socket swayed. “That taser would’ve come in handy in the early days,” he said.

“Sam,” Captain America growled but the Winter Soldier, Bucky, just snorted and rolled his death white eyes.

“I really am sorry I tried to decapitate you,” Darcy said to him, standing on her tiptoes to try to meet his eyes around Captain America’s pronounced shoulders. “But this is why no one should plan a zombie flash mob.”

“Told you it was a dumb idea, birdbrain,” Bucky rasped at Sam.

“I would shut up while you’re an arm down,” Sam answered.

Captain America sighed heavily but Darcy caught the twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure I can fix it,” Darcy said. All three men stared at her at once and Darcy pointed to the arm. “Tony showed me the blueprints and I can guess which circuitry the voltage hit. It won’t take too long to get you running again.”

“You’re Darcy,” Captain America said.

“I am.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Darcy tried not read into the stunned expression on his face as he looked her up and down. “Steve,” he held out a strong hand covered in gore and fake stitches. Darcy winced as she shook it.

“I think you should keep it like this,” Sam said to Bucky. “Looks more true to zombie.”

“I’ll feel better when I know I can punch you when you deserve it,” Bucky said, flat and even.

“Well I gotta get downstairs to the mob,” Sam said with a shrug, heading back to the steps.

“Lab’s just this way,” Darcy said, nodding to the door. “You can come now or I can fix it later, up to you.”

She opened the door and tried not to listen to Bucky and Steve. No, that was a lie. She listened very carefully.

“You want me to come with you?” Steve asked as they followed her into the hall.

“Think you better, in case the arm glitches when she gets it running. Don’t want to hurt her, she’s a ripe tomato,” Bucky said, slightly under his breath.

“I don’t know what that means,” Darcy said glancing over her shoulder to see Steve blushing and Bucky watching her ass as she walked. “But I don’t like tomatoes.”

“Means you’re red hot, doll,” Bucky said, grinning and seemingly forgetting that his teeth were stained green.

Darcy swallowed a gag. “Then I should be some kind of cute pepper. Either way, your flirting is going to go over a lot better when you aren’t decomposing. I really hate zombies.”

Bucky’s grin fell and Steve’s hand immediately went to cover his rotting jawline.

“Told Sam it was a dumb idea,” Bucky muttered grumpily.

[i-will-not-be-caged]

probablyunnecessary replied to your post

“Okay, I’m not gonna be able to start cowboy!sam for a while because I...”

What are the books if you don't mind sharing? <3

Sure! She recommended:

When Indians Became Cowboys by Peter Iverson

The Legacy of Conquest by Patricia Limerick

Custer Died For Your Sins by Vine Deloria

Indians in Unexpected Places by Philip Deloria

The first two were for more general background, the last two she specifically mentioned were necessities before writing Native characters. I’m particularly excited about the last one because she said it unpacks how what we consume shapes our taste, expectations, and consumption choices, which is the kind of thing I loooooove reading and thinking about.

[bloomsoftly]

Ow, I'm sorry! I should have paid more attention, numb nut me. Thor/Darcy/Sam & #16 is just as fine :D Thank you very much for keeping my spot in the queue

not any problem at all! hope you like it. :) also, a million thanks to @ragwitch for the plot idea. this prompt would’ve been terrible without you, Queenie!

If her eyes rolled any harder, Darcy thought they might get stuck in the back of her head. Fortunately, neither Thor nor Sam seemed to notice how unimpressed she was. The wind was blowing quite heavily at the top of the Tower; it whipped her hair all around her head, hiding her expression. The next gust shoved a handful of hair into her face, stinging her cheeks and choking her.

She’d had quite enough. The men were standing almost nose to nose, comparing their…flying capabilities. Normally she’d find the bickering foreplay pretty hot, but she was cold and the wind was starting to sting. And her hair was now officially a rat’s nest.

“Alright, I’m going inside,” she called. They didn’t hear her over the wind, or maybe they were simply too lost in their ‘competition’ to pay attention to her words. Pausing, she realized that there was a better way to get their attention and settle this stupid debate once and for all.

With a mischievous grin, she headed in their direction. As she strode toward them, she took the hairband she kept around her wrist and tied her hair up in a messy bun at the back of her head. She wanted to be able to see their reactions for this one.

They looked up as she stepped in their direction, jumping apart guiltily. Why, she didn’t know. It’s not like she didn’t know how they felt about each other. They’d all spent the previous evening proving it, all three of them. Thor looked a little sheepish, and Sam offered that grin he always used to get himself out of trouble. Ah, so they thought she was annoyed that they’d been ignoring her. They were partially right.

“Darcy?” Thor asked gently. She didn’t respond as she drew closer. They stepped back to give her room between them.

“You okay?” Sam finished, and they both looked at her in concern.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, and their eyes dropped guiltily. “You know I’m not going to choose between you—it’s ridiculous to ask me who I think is better at flying. Because I love you both, equally.” She walked between them, not breaking stride. The hands that reached out to hold her dropped in confusion.

“But—” they said in unison, then glared at each other.

“I told you I’d go flying with both of you,” she said, almost to the edge of the roof. “But like little boys, you couldn’t decide who got to take me first.” Sam’s eyes narrowed with worry as she drew closer to the edge, while Thor looked like he was on the verge of figuring it out. A smirk grew on his face, and thunder boomed in the distance.

Turning to face them dramatically, stepping up onto the little lip of the roof, Darcy intoned, “Guess you better figure it out now.” And stepped backward into the empty air.

All things considered, she fell freely for probably less than three seconds. Thor caught her first, arms gripping her securely as he caught her and surged upward. “That was very clever,” he rumbled against her hair, a smile clear in his voice. Darcy said nothing, but wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a light kiss to his throat.

Sam wasn’t far behind. She probably could’ve heard his shouting from miles away, though. “Why am I always doomed to fall for heroes and thrill-seekers?” he complained loudly, circling them as they ascended. She was pretty sure he did it to make sure she received the full brunt of his pouty face, and she hid a smile against Thor’s neck. And then they were back on the roof.

Sam and Thor flanked her, making sure she wouldn’t pull a stunt like that again. Not that she needed to—it had worked quite well, she thought. They were no longer fighting over her like a prized bone.

“Pot, meet kettle,” she said to Sam, glaring at him pointedly.

His pout held out for another stubborn second, and then relaxed into a charming grin. “Alright,” he chuckled, “you’ve got a point there.” His grin grew mischievous, and he stepped toward her. “But since Thor caught you, it’s my turn now.”

Lightning flashed in the distance, and she could feel Thor’s glare like a physical weight as it bored into Sam. He opened his mouth, but Darcy decided to cut off the argument before it could start up again in full force.

“If y’all don’t quit it, I’m gonna go ask Stark if he’ll take me flying,” she threatened, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the general direction of the elevator.

They quit bickering immediately, turning to her with identical pouts. Laughing lightly, she peppered kisses over both of their faces. As she pulled away, she compromised, “I’ll go flying with both of you, for real. But you have to decide who gets to go first. Nicely.” She stressed the last word, looking from one to the other.

With a mockingly somber expression, Sam turned to Thor and asked, “Rock, paper, scissors?”

[aenariasbookshelf]

Any advice on how to apply liquid lipstick? :)

*Cracks knuckles* ;)

The first bit of advice?  Have patience.  Lots of patience.  Most liquid lipsticks are very quick drying, so it’s better to go slow and get it right on the first try than have to attempt to correct it afterwards (which will usually end up smearing and then involve having to take everything off - including any other foundation you may have around the mouth - and starting fresh).

Second?  Nude colors will always be a bit more forgiving by their nature of being closer to skin color.  At least in my experience.

Third?  Take the lips in sections.  Start at the plumpest part of the lower lip, then move to one side, fill that in, before going on to the other side.  You’ll have better control that way and should be able to get a more precise line for your look.

My last piece of advice is to watch this video by one of my favorite YouTubers, who’s known for her amazing lipstick swatches (and is also a makeup artist, which I find makes me feel better when watching tutorials).  She’s got some good advice in there and it’s a great place to start:

Hopefully this helps you out on your liquid lipstick journey!

[spacebuck]

“Are you meeting someone here? Because.. I think I’m that person.” Pretty please? :D

Bucky glanced up at the words, then up, and up, and up. His eyes narrowed a little and he tucked his phone away, locking the screen with a half composed text still sitting there. “Steve Rogers?” He asked hesitantly, and the guy - giant - nodded, smile spreading across his face. It was a pretty smile, Bucky noted absently. 

“That’s me. Bucky Barnes?” The guy, Steve said with a little nod, holding out a hand. Bucky took it, nodding in return.

“Yep, that’s me. So you’re the guy Nat thought could put up with my shit,” he responded, dropping his hands and tucking them in his pockets.

Steve just grinned. “Could say the same thing about you. Lets go in?” Bucky nodded, and couldn’t help the flush as Steve held the door for him. The coffee shop wasn’t loud, but the noise still bubbled around them, the usual ebb and flow of the after-school crowd.

“You’ve been here before,” Bucky said, smiling up at Steve. Steve gave him a crinkly-eyed smile in return, and Bucky could almost feel his heart beat a little faster at that. “What’s good?” He finishes after a pause that was probably too long.

“All of it?” Steve responds, smile getting wider. “Honestly. But the all-day breakfast is always safe,” he added, pointing up at the chalkboard above the counter. “But I’ll vouch for the penne. And the soups.”

Bucky laughed as Steve seemed unable to keep adding things to his list. “I’ll work it out when we get to the front of the line,” he says after a second. “What are you getting?”

Steve shrugged, shoulders brushing Bucky’s lightly. “A wrap I think, it’s been a while since I’ve had one here,” he said with a smile. “Could be persuaded to pick something else though. Depends on what the special is.”

Bucky shook his head with a laugh and they stepped forward as the line moved, shoulders still close. Bucky didn’t want to jinx everything but this? He had a good feeling about this.

[dresupi]

For: @probablyunnecessary​ Prompt: Mistletoe kissing booth Ship: Sansa Stark/Tyrion Lannister

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Sansa leaned out on the little ledge outside her kissing booth window. She grinned in Tyrion’s direction. At the stepping stool he’d apparently brought with him for just this very occasion. “What can I get for you, ser?” she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes in a way she hoped was beguiling and not befuddling. “We’re under the mistletoe, look at that.”

Her blue eyes cast upward to the bit of greenery tacked above her head.

“I’ll take whatever you’re giving the other gents,” he replied, slapping his coin down on the ledge beside her elbow.  She took the coin and leaned down to kiss him, pressing her lips softly to his, and trying not to run her fingers through his hair. No matter how difficult it was to keep her hands off him, she shouldn’t set a precedent, and she certainly didn’t want to run her fingers through the hair of every man who paid her a coin.

“I suppose…” he drawled, “That it would be bad form for your significant other to spend hundreds of dollars at your kissing booth, wouldn’t it?” His musing was punctuated by a playful smirk.

Sansa laughed. “I don’t know about bad form, but considering you could get all the kisses you’d like for free, I can’t really say it makes good financial sense. But the Winterfell Children’s Home will adore your donation, I’m certain.”

He flexed one hand against the counter, clearly holding himself back from kissing her again, but gave up in the end.

“Here,” he handed her another gold coin. A second and third joined it. “For the forthcoming transgressions, Sansa. I’m afraid I’m shit at keeping the rules.”

[paranoidwino]

For the prompt thingy: some falconshock and hurt/comfort?

I’m… putting my hands in the air because this is the first time I try my hand at what we call “het”? I mean, I usually go for femslash so yeah. Which means that you need to squint a lot? And possibly make funny faces? And it probably wasn’t what you wanted (Grammarly tells me that ‘het’ is not a word and ‘did you mean hot’?… No, Grammarly. no)

The first thing Sam Wilson had done once he was back from the ‘Stans was to check an appointment with a good psychologist and get treated for PTSD, then he’d started with the stages of grief, and group therapy, and then the VA and after a few years, he was finally able to stand on his feet again.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

And then he decided to follow a punk that trolled him on his damn left.

From then on, Sam Wilson had lived on a roller coaster and he wasn’t getting down anytime soon. At least the pay was good. Very good, if he had to say so himself. The view didn’t hurt either.

And he had his work cut for him, too. Between the psycho assassin, the redhead assassin, the stalker assassin don’t you think I don’t see you in the vents, Barton, Steve Grant Rogers that counted for four people alone, he had his plate more than full (He didn’t really count the ‘Science!’ Club, they were herded by their own shepherd and that was a blessing indeed. Darcy Lewis deserved her own monument). 

It was by a complete accident that he realized that March 17th was coming up in three days (where had the time gone?!). 

With March 17th came unbidden the images of Riley, and despite the fact that now the guilt didn’t eat him from the inside any longer, it still hurt. 

That day, he spent it like every other March 17th.

He visited Riley’s grave, called Sandra, asked her how it was going, traded some words of circumstance even if with his moving to New York and then to “Avengersland” he hadn’t been able to keep properly in touch, he’d then visited the closest memorial site, left some flowers, and went home. 

And probably he hadn’t been very subtle about his mood but staring at the window for a long time was as subtle as he could really be today.

In front of him was placed a mug of chocolate and a couple of scones.

“Hey.” It was Darcy.

“Hey.” He didn’t really look up.

Darcy never minded when people did that. She had a very keen eye for their brand of hurt or moodiness, and she was capable enough not to let any of this bother her. And a heart of gold.

“These are for you.” She pushed the plate a little closer to him. There was an awkward smiley face on top of the chocolate.

“…Is this a trick?” He tried for joking smile, it ended up being ‘pained smile’. Almost nailed it.

“No.” She said with certainty. “It’s a bribe. Nat’s promising to smash James on the mat and I need you to step in before they do it.”

He huffed, but took the mug and sipped at it anyway. “Why?” He couldn’t really step in the way of anyone, especially Nat. 

“Because I’ve got 10 bucks on you stopping them, of course.”

He choked on his drink.

She winked at him. “Let’s go?”

He smiled back, “Yeah, let’s.”

[luninosity]

I really, really, really loved Aidan & Ink!!

They are tons of fun! I am hoping that the place I sent it will want the first story. (No word yet, but the deadline was only the 1st.) And then I’ll have to figure out what to do with the sequel….

Speaking of, tiny bit more of it?

##

“And I’m coming with you.”“No you’re not,” said Pete and Rob and Ink simultaneously. John almost joined in just because of their shared forcefulness, but he did not, after all, know the Director; so he kept silent.“It’s not a debate.” Aidan rested elbows on his desk, looked at them levelly across laced hands. “It’s family. And you’ll need me.”“You’re the Director of the Magical Enforcement Division,” Pete said. “You can’t just swoop in and work a random case.”“You can’t break charms,” Ink said, and his voice trembled, barely noticeable, hurting with love. “You can’t use your voice on something that can’t hear you. And you’re barely a magician without it.” “We need you,” Rob said, surprisingly softly, “here, Aidan. If we lose you we lose more than just you.”“Yes,” Aidan said, “the MED loses the symbol, Joanne’s faith in me as her successor, the face of youth and change, a half magical creature, proof that you don’t have to be an old-fashioned purely human witch or enchanter or anything, I know.” He might’ve said this sarcastically; he didn’t. He did know; he took Rob’s objection and his own position seriously, John thought. “But I have thought about this. I’ve got a Deputy for a reason. I’ll stay out of any direct contact with curses or hexes or evil sorcerers. I promise.” He was holding Ink’s hand now. His voice held a thread of silvered steel underneath calm explanations. “I love Elena as much as anyone,” Pete said, “but she’s not you. She can’t do what you can do, literally, magically. Actually, call her in. Tell her about this. See what happens.”Aidan raised an eyebrow. A knock tapped against the door.“I hate it,” Pete said, “when you answer objections before we’ve come up with them.”Rob sighed, and watched Aidan. John covertly watched Rob doing the watching. Compassion in those sea-blue eyes. Loyalty in that heroic jawline. Rob had made his own argument on behalf of the department, but could also see and sympathize with his Director’s need to rescue family; all that was in that gaze, as Rob considered the mission.Funny, that. John hadn’t expected MED agents to be quite so good at emotional nuance. Nor so kind. Elena Ruiz proved to be thin and brown and quick as a sparrow; the Deputy Director of the MED was a weather-witch, John vaguely recalled, and had spent the last three months holding back terrible drought and brushfires across Southern California. She had short brown hair and a fearsome knife casually tucked into her belt; she listened to Aidan patiently for two minutes and then said, “You can’t go.”“Yes I can,” Aidan said. “Did you all miss the part about me being in charge?”“We need you here. We’re meeting with the Magical Oversight Committee next week, remember? No one else has your voice. And I hate politicians.”“We know,” Pete said, half under his breath, “we were there when you made it rain on Senator Whitmore, last time.”“He deserved it, that—”“Listen.” The silver-tipped spears in that voice cracked out and hit everyone in the room. A banshee’s voice: not a full command, but a sizzling diamond-edged reminder of what he could do. “This isn’t a discussion. My family won’t talk to anyone who doesn’t have a magical bloodline stretching back at least five generations. The best you’d get is a shut door. And if someone’s making cursed objects—and sending them after powerful families—then we need to know who and why. And I’m good at talking to people.” The implications rang darkly across the office: Aidan wanted to have words with the sorcerer behind this case. “So you need me. I’ll stay out of the way in the field and I’ll stay in touch with you, Ellie, but you’re running things here until we get back. Understood?”

A general reluctant mutter on the theme of “yes” filled up the space. Aidan glared at them all. “Good. We’re leaving tonight.”

[ragwitch]

For the Halloween prompt thingy, how about Falconshock and 5? :)

FALCONSHOCK TASERWINGS YAYAYAY. More Sam, basically!

5. ‘I will trade you all fruity and sour candies in exchange for your kitkats.’‘That’s a criminal trade and you know it. KitKats are like the solid gold bars of Halloween candy.’

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Sam Wilson

Rating: G

Darcy walked into the common room to find two hordes of halloween candy spread across the dining table, carefully separated down the center.

Tony sat on one end sucking on a tootsie pop, feet propped up on the arm of another chair. He pointed the tootsie pop down the length of the table at Sam Wilson, and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“I will trade you all my fruity and sour candies in exchange for your KitKats,” Tony bargained.

Sam’s lips twisted as he looked down at his collection. Darcy could spot at least ten KitKats from where she stood.

“That’s a criminal trade and you know it,” Darcy said, walking up to the table and sitting down at a chair. Wilson needed a negotiator, clearly. New guy. “KitKats are like the solid gold bars of Halloween candy.”

“Lewis, I don’t pay you for this,” Tony snapped.

“You don’t pay me on Sundays, period,” Darcy answered and then looked back at Sam.

“What if I’m not a fan of chocolate?” Sam asked.

“You’re insane,” Darcy said shrugging. “But still, what Tony has isn’t worth more than four KitKats. Save the rest and fleece Clint next. He hates sour stuff, he’ll probably beg you to take it. And Thor loves peanut butter so you can get all his starbursts and jolly ranchers for a few Reese’s cups.”

“You are ruining this holiday for me,” Tony muttered from the end of the table.

Sam studied Darcy for a long moment, a slow-growing smile spreading across his lips that made her want to squirm in her seat. He turned back to Tony.

“I’ll give you five cause I’m a nice guy,” Sam said. “But I’m not bargaining past that.”

Tony snarled, glaring at Darcy and then leaned forward, feet thumping to the floor, to separate his stash, pushing all of Sam’s winnings petulantly across the table. Sam stacked his five KitKats like poker chips and left them where Tony could reach, before settling back into his chair looking like a king surveying his stash of gold.

“You’re on my shit list, Lewis,” Tony muttered, taking his shrunken pillow case of candy out of the room with him.

Darcy stayed where she was and smiled at Sam.

“So,” he said after Tony had stomped off down the hall. “You kind of threw yourself under the bus for me.”

“Nah, Tony’s easy,” Darcy said with a wave of her hand and Sam’s eye brows raised.

“Well…I don’t see any candy with you, so I’m kind of wondering what you’re planning on trading,” he said.

“Oh I don’t do this,” Darcy said, waving her finger over the table to indicate the exchange. “I just clean out all the local convenience stores when the candy goes on sale the next day.”

He frowned. “That’s not very sporting.”

“No but it means I have a long term supply of candy to bribe my scientists with,” Darcy said. Sam laughed and she continued. “However…I see that you’ve found yourself in possession of Sixlets. These are especially valuable in dealing with a persnickety astrophysicist and extremely hard to find.” She swept her hair over one shoulder and watched Sam’s eyes flick down to her neck for an extended beat. Good. She continued, “Now. I didn’t get any fruits or sours this year because they don’t come in handy for me so I’m not sure what I can offer as a trade.”

Sam grinned and looked out over the table and then back to Darcy, “I think I’m all set on candy. But I’m a sympathetic dude. How about dinner? We can throw in dessert if you’re having a nice time.”

Darcy grinned and felt her cheeks warm at the lazy smile on Sam’s face. “I’m already having a nice time,” she said.

[i-will-not-be-caged]

probablyunnecessary replied to your post “Fashiony people - if you could put Sam in a suit, what color would it...”

John Boyega's style! Like the purupl suit he wore at the Star Wars premiere

That’s basically what I was picturing :)

[spacebuck]

I'm so happy for you! :'D This is so so so so amazing!!! 100 000 words, you're amazing

thank you!!! i honestly didn’t think i’d get here omg

[dresupi]

Soul Mate

Pairing:  Darcy Lewis/Loki For:  @probablyunnecessary Prompt: Soul Mate Rating: G Word Count: 740

Darcy sighed heavily as she took the last wobbly cart outside Albertson's.  The front wheel pirouetted like a drunk ballerina as she pushed it through the atrium and into the store.  

All she wanted was a box of those tissues with the aloe lotion for her poor runny nose, a bottle of the cheapest merlot she could find, and a big pot of her Gramma's special spinach and lentil soup.  

Since her Gramma was way back home in Virginia, Darcy would have to make it herself.  Which was fine.  Because she had just enough energy to push a cart through a store, chop an onion and throw a bunch of stuff in her crock pot before collapsing on the couch.  

Darcy sniffled and pushed her wonky cart towards the produce section.  If she was chopping an onion, she'd need to buy an actual onion. And spinach.  Spinach was kind of important too.  

The produce was soon procured, and Darcy, along with her squeaky cart made their way to the dry grocery aisles.  The tissues would be along the back wall with the rest of the paper products.  

She turned down the aisle with all the dried beans, her tired eyes scanning the bags and finding the spot where the lentils should be.  

Her heart dropped when she realized that they weren't there.  

They had to be there.  There was no way they were out of lentils.  No way.  

Sighing, she dropped down to her knees beside the only other person in the aisle, reaching her arm around towards the back of the shelf.  She peeked back, spotting a bag way towards the back.  She could crawl over, or she could ask this other person to kick them down to her.  

"Hey… dude… Could you kick me that bag of lentils?"

Loki's heart stammered in his chest as he heard the words leave her mouth.  Those words. His words.  Thor had simply asked him to come to the market in search of a very specific list of ingredients.  He'd been confused from the minute he'd stepped into what Midgardians called a 'grocery store'.

And now, his soulmate was speaking his words?  

"I beg your pardon, kick your what?" he asked, stammering slightly. He'd be too happy to kick whatever this woman asked him to, if only he knew what it was.  

She froze, apparently not expecting to hear her words any more than Loki was expecting to hear his.  She looked up at him from her prone position on the floor.  "You said my words," she said, her tone just a few ticks past accusatory.  "How very dare?  I'm sick as a dog and I look like hell."  

"My apologies," he said softly, peering down at her.  

She scooted slightly in front of him, pulling a small plastic sack from the shelf.  "Lentils," she said, smirking slightly as she used the shelf to help herself rise.  "For my soup."  She paused once more, giving him a wide sweeping look with her big blue eyes, making his face flush under her scrutiny.  

"You're Thor's brother, right?  The one who tried to take over the world?"  

He pressed his lips together.  "It's all behind me… "  

She laughed.  "Obviously, if you're shopping at Albertson's. Is Thor here?"

He frowned.  He was her soulmate.  Why did she want to see his brother?  "It's just me.  Thor's back at the… hotel where we're staying."  

"Are you on like… house arrest or something?  Is he going to get all pissy if you don't go back right away?  He won't like… send Mew-Mew to knock out your teeth and bring you back, will he?"  

Loki exhaled softly, the closest thing to laughter he'd emitted in days.  "I assume you mean Mjolnir.  And no.  Mjolnir is gone.  Destroyed by our sister."  

Her mouth fell open.  "Aww no, not Mew-Mew! That sucks!" She tossed the bag of lentils into her cart.  "You should totally come over and hang out then. I'm going to be laying on the couch and cooking soup in my crock pot."  

Loki wasn't familiar with the term.  "A crock pot?" he asked.  "Are you a witch?"  

She shrugged.  "Sometimes.  I'm a good witch, though…"

He detected a note of sarcasm in her voice, but chose to find it adorable.  His soulmate, in direct contrast to her insistence to the contrary, was very easy to find adorable.    

"I would love to come over."