#wintershock wip

[purplesigebert]

Tag Game

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for tagging me @kirythestitchwitch, @stars-and-darkness, and @morningstargirl666!

Doctor Who Crossover

Wintershock Bedtime Story

Tagging: @sergeantpixie, @orlissa, @sailor-hufflepuff, @flameofrose, @laughingfrowns

[randomlittleimp]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @summerongrand 

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 

106

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 

636,111

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently - The Rookie, Marvel

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192652/chapters/37840646 - Wintershock

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47130676/chapters/118745332 - Chenford

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30493848/chapters/75199407 - Wintershock

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45386017/chapters/114191074 - Chenford

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46219327/chapters/116358475 - Chenford

5. Do you respond to comments?

Oh yeah, like 95% of the time

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

00Q - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3877729/chapters/8667628

I lived for the tears and screaming in the comment section of the last chapter for that one

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics are happy endings, can’t pick just one

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet. Guess Im lucky

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup. Mostly M/F but I have written a few M/M as well. Some sweet, some really dark

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

I’ve been asked for permission to but I don’t know if it ever happened

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Chenford or Taserbones, keep going back and forth with them

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There is one I have started and stopped a couple times, Leonard McCoyxOFC Star Trek fic about him being on leave on a distant planet that gets invaded and he had to hide with a single mom and her two kids and survive till rescue. I just keep getting stuck on how to move the story along

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I’m good at banter, but I’m sure y’all can tell me if i’m wrong

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Consistency in writing schedules/ and word count

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Google translate is my friend. At least I hope it is, it could be fucking me and I’d never know.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Buffy

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?  Can’t think of one at the moment. I love all my work

Thanks again for the tag!

I'm tagging no one, but if you want to participate please do, I'd love to hear from all y'all

[my-lady-of-the-various-sorrows]

My work on AO3.

Currently Labyrinth and Marvel focused on Bucky Barnes and Darcy Lewis aka Wintershock. Yes, I'm very bad about having multiple WIPs. They will all be finished one day.

[anogete]

Untitled Fake Marriage (Post-Civil War AU) Wintershock - Update and Sneak Peek #1

What’s it about?

Two years after Civil War and the US government is relying heavily on Tony to defend against threats. It’s killing Steve to pull back and not help, but he and his team are wanted by the governments of several countries. Public opinion has turned from supporting the Accords to wanting their superhero defense team back, which makes General Ross parlay with Steve and offer a deal--come back and help us and we’ll grant all of you amnesty, among other things. Steve likes the deal, but he also wants Bucky (who has been living in Wakanda) included in the negotiation.  General Ross and his advisors are reluctant since he is responsible for some high-profile assassins around the world.  They question whether Bucky can be trusted to reenter the country and not disappear in the woodwork. Natasha attends one of the meetings and casually mentions that she doesn’t understand why they’d think Bucky would cut and run or do anything to jeopardize his amnesty since he’s married and trying to start a family.  General Ross and his team latch onto this and agree to include Bucky as long as he’s married and they can send a social worker over to check on Bucky and his wife every week for the first few months. Steve takes this to Bucky, but Bucky rejects it. Shuri finds out what Steve is trying to do and insinuates herself into the situation by contacting the woman picked to act as Bucky’s wife.  Shuri likes Darcy Lewis and thinks Bucky will as well.  Besides, she’s worried about the way he’s isolating himself and working until he passes out at night.  He definitely needs a life and he isn’t finding one in Wakanda.  With a little nudging, she convinces Bucky to talk to Darcy.  And Darcy convinces Bucky to give this crazy plan a shot.

What should you expect? 

Conversations and a resolution to the conflict between Bucky and Tony.  Sassy, fun, and wise Shuri.  Okoye rolling her eyes at Bucky being nervous to meet his future wife and also the clothing Shuri made the poor guy wear to the formal dinner.  A slow burn.  Fake marriage (which is legally a real marriage).  Lots of sexual tension and mutual pining.  Bed-sharing. Bucky struggling to find his place in modern western society with Darcy’s help. Darcy trying to not fall for this guy she’s getting paid to pretend to love.  Some awkward times, some overheard masturbation.  A road trip and a getaway.  A deceptive and heartless government.  A Bucky that would kill for this woman he’s come to care for, and a Darcy who is extremely protective Darcy who will burn down any organization who even tries to mess with her man.  It’ll be a long one.  Exactly how long I’m not sure.  Definitely more than 60k.  Probably more than 80k.  Maybe as much as 90-100k.  We’ll see where the story takes me.  I hope to have the first draft finished by the end of July and something to post within the first two weeks of August.  I can’t promise that at this point, but it’s my goal.

Where am I at?

A few pages into chapter 6 of the first draft.  I believe the word count is sitting around 27,000 right now. I have a general idea of where the story is going and the conflict that will begin to take shape, but I don’t have an outline just yet.  That won’t firm up for a few more chapters.

Where is the damn sneak peek?!

Oh, here you go:

“Do you always get up at this awful hour, Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky closed his eyes when he heard Shuri’s voice behind him. She’d become like his little sister these past two years. He owed her a debt he could never repay, but she seemed to think his gratitude was silly. She’d been brushing it off since they pulled him out of cryo and she fixed his head. “Good morning to you, too,” he said.

She walked over to stand beside him, casting her gaze out over the hazy water. “How are you feeling?”

Looking up at her, he said, “Conflicted.”

Shuri looked down at him, the light catching on the ornate gold jewelry at her ears and neck. The sky was pink and the sun was cresting the horizon. It would be a hot day. “I hope my brother told you that you’re welcome to say if you wish to.”

“He did,” Bucky said. “Thank you.”

She stepped on the high grass growing next to him, flattening it out with her sandals before sitting down. “Do you think they are lying to you?”

Her question caught him off guard. “Steve?”

“No, the others. The American government.”

“Maybe,” Bucky conceded. “I trust Steve. I know he wants to help, but I don’t know if I want the help.”

“Don’t you want your life back?”

“My life is over.” The words were out of his mouth before he could censor them. People didn’t like when he said things like that even though he thought it all the time. His life was over. He was just going through the motions here in Wakanda. It was peaceful and serene and he wasn’t unhappy, but he wasn’t living. He was existing.

Shuri nodded slowly. “You do act that way, don’t you, Sergeant Barnes? Insisting on staying here in this hut and never talking to anyone.”

“You know, you only call me Sergeant Barnes when you’re sassing me, Princess Shuri?”

She glanced over and smiled. Bucky liked when she smiled because her entire face lit up like she was a little girl. She reminded him of his sister when she smiled like that. His sister was dead. She died at the age of eighty-two in a nursing home in New Jersey. Bucky hadn’t been there for her. At the time, he’d been HYDRA’s most prized asset and wouldn’t have even been able to tell you her name.

“Your life is not over,” Shuri told him. “Steve Rogers transmitted the paperwork his government wants you to sign last night. My brother’s advisors are not too happy with me because I made them review it into the early morning.”

“And?” he asked.

“It’s exactly what your friend said it was. They’d be breaking laws if they violate it. Of course, it isn’t like they haven’t broken laws before--their own and others.”

They sat there in silence for a moment before Bucky said, “I’m more worried about everything else.”

“Oh, living, you mean?”

He chuckled softly at her taunting question. “Yeah, living. They want me to pretend to be married. I don’t… I haven’t been around people that much here. I don’t know if I can do that. They’re going to expect me to fight for them and… I don’t know...”

Shuri nodded. “Evil men ask others to fight their battles.”

Her words cut deeply into him. Bucky felt all the emotions--all the frustration and fear and anger and hopelessness--well up in him, tightening his chest and making it difficult to pull in a breath. Unshed tears threatened to spill over his lower lids. He tilted his face up to the sky and blinked them away.

“If they try to force you to fight, then you will come back here,” she said, voice matter-of-fact.

“Shuri, that would put you brother in a bad spot. I’m a diplomatic nightmare now and him harboring me would be even worse.”

“Wakanda can protect itself. You are a friend to us, Bucky. You are not asking, we are offering.”

His chest hurt so badly. “Shuri, you can’t--”

“We can and will.” She looked over at him and smiled again. “I spoke to the woman who will be your wife.”

Bucky’s laugh was strained and lacking any humor. He turned his head away from her for a moment. “I can’t do that. I can’t… I can’t ask someone to give up a year of their life for me.”

“I like her,” Shuri replied, ignoring everything he’d just said. She really could be a brat sometimes.

Sighing in resignation, he caved into the little voice in the back of his mind that was curious about what woman Steve would pick, what woman would agree, and what woman Shuri approved of. “What’s she like?” he asked.

“Would you like to see her?” Shuri asked, grinning.

“No,” Bucky said, the answer almost jumping out of his mouth. “No. I’m not… I can’t do that.”

“You can’t see her?” Shuri asked, her expression some strange mixture of amusement and pity.

“I can’t go through with this,” he replied. “What she looks like doesn’t matter.”

[crimtastic]

work in progress wednesday

The sun streamed through the window, highlighting all of the little hairs around Darcy’s head, causing a fuzzy, warm effect. Bucky leaned against the door frame, blinking. “Sure.”

Maybe he should have bought blinds.

But then Darcy smiled at him and his heart thumped loudly.

She tugged rather unsuccessfully at the window, and Bucky found himself next to her, pulling it open in an instant and looking down at her.

Darcy’s eyebrows hitched up the slightest bit, her lips parted. His brain stalled, heart beating - tha-bump, tha-bump, tha-bump, tha-bump.

from an unnamed Wintershock that will hopefully one day make its way to Ao3. 🤭

[ours-is-feral-love]

Should I finish this?

let me know by either liking or commenting (or reblogging if you're feeling extra kind!)

excuse any and all mistakes - it really has been a long time since I've written anything

|

Sam tosses him an envelope absently. Or maybe it isn't an absent throw and he means to hit Bucky's cheek with the pointed edge. It would not be a surprise.

The bird disappears without saying anything, before Bucky can question him about the letter, and he sighs, sitting straighter in his chair at the dining table. Picking the envelope off of his lap, he turns it over for the return address. Darcy Lewis. Williamsburg. The one in Brooklyn. Not the one in Virginia Sam dragged him to last winter. He'd taken him for Christmas. Said he knew just the place Bucky would fit in. A place in the US permanently set during the 18th century.

Why are we here? he had asked. He hadn't known Virginia could get so bitterly cold. Just like it did in New York. In Europe, during the war.

He hates the winter.

Aren't you finding yourself right at home? This is an authentic look at America from the past. It says here in the pamphlet, ''Colonial Williamsburg is the largest outdoor living museum in the country, upholding our educational mission through immersive, authentic 18th-century experiences and programming for our guests."

Asshole.

He isn't nervous when he slices open the envelope and pulls out its contents. Even after Sam mentioned something about an incident in which some guy tried to kill people by sticking a deadly powder in envelopes. Whether Sam was telling the truth or not, Bucky enjoys opening letters. It is so different from the messages people send on electronic devices. Far more personal.

Inside is a single slip of paper folded into fourths. No white powder. He's safe for another day. Flattening the tightly creased note, Bucky starts reading its contents. I don't know you, it begins, which is funny to him somehow. This is the first handwritten letter he's received since he was put back in the government's system as James Buchanan Barnes, so maybe people have simply forgotten how to write letters in the confusing age of technology.

Bucky shakes his head and frowns at the page.

He's distracting himself. He does it without meaning to, without thinking. But he knows exactly where this is going, and he doesn't want to be reminded. Not by a letter from someone who admits they don't know him. It's too personal and impersonal at the same time. Somewhere caught on the precipice of either being meaningful or invasive. He has thousands upon thousands of these same messages stored on the laptop Steve left him. They are longwinded and excessive and dramatic. He saved my life, they write. Then they continue, though I never met him. And in a strange way, it angers Bucky to read those notes. Who are these people to mourn him? To claim he rescued them from their monotonous lives by merely existing when Bucky would be dead in Italy or roaming the streets as the Winter Soldier without Steve Rogers.

Irritation niggles his insides, pressing against his heart, burning his throat.

No, Bucky decides he does not enjoy opening tangible messages more than electronic ones. He hates them both the same. They are both empty. Neither will bring Steve back - the Steve he knew nor the old, wrinkled man they buried next to Margaret Carter.

Bucky tosses the letter on the table. Retreating from the room, escaping his own intrusive thoughts, he joins Sam in the basement of their two-level house. The sparring room. Set up like an Olympic training centre, Bucky spends most of his time at home in this space. Knocking the sand out of punching bags. Severing the heads off of dummies. Releasing pent up resentment towards the one person that knew him through and through and still kept by his side.

Well, until he left.

"Another sob story from a Captain America fanatic?" Sam asks, wiping beads of sweat from his lined forehead. He backs away from the post into which he has thrown the red, white, and blue shield.

"I don't know," Bucky says. He grabs the handle of a knife stored in a special wooden block and brings his arm back, his eye focused on the centre of a target against the wall opposite him. "I didn't read it." He jerks his arm forward, releasing the knife.

It pierces the bullseye.

|

He forgets the letter for almost two weeks before its existence in his house is unavoidable.

Returning home from an early morning run, Bucky goes directly to his room, stripping his sweat-sodden clothes off his body and throwing them on his bed. He is a foot away from his en suite where a broiling shower awaits him when he registers the two envelopes on his bedside table. One of them is already unsealed, and he knows immediately it is the unread letter from Williamsburg. He can only imagine its neighbour hails from the same hand.

Sam put these here. Entered his room without permission and carefully organised the letters in such a way Bucky would be blind not to notice them.

Sam cried at the funeral. His face spilled tears throughout the service, and he whimpered as eulogies were read and thanks were given. He's touched that part of himself, ripped it open. For all the world to see. Soldiers are different now to when Bucky signed up. Men are different. In general. They weep publicly. Express their distress and sorrow until their bodies and minds heal, and then they don't need to cry anymore. But the tears are there, waiting for the moment they are next called into action.

Bucky has never allowed a single tear to escape when surrounded by others. Not Steve, especially not the bird. He can say that HYDRA sucked the tears from his body, but his aversion to crying in the open goes back to his childhood. To a different era in which men clung tightly to their emotions. Shoved them deep in their gut. His mother always tried to get him to talk about his feelings, but his father would step in before Bucky could say a word. He would tell the young boy that feelings were for girls. Not strong men. And that is how Bucky walked through his long life, as if he was void of anything other than solid stoicism.

HYDRA preyed on that part of him. The full part, overflowing with unshed tears and swallowed screams. They shocked his mind until he felt nothing. Until he felt empty. Hollow. And then they filled him with anger, and now that anger is gone. And Bucky can't tell if he feels overstuffed or permanently drained.

Sam doesn't know, either. He has been trying to get Bucky to cry since Steve first vanished and approached them an old man. Subtle nudges. Careful word choice. Sam pokes Bucky any which way he can think, urging the tin man to just feel something. Anything. These letters, though neither of them know their contents, is undoubtedly his latest move. They could be filled with hatred for all he knows. I don't know you, but you're the reason Captain America is dead and I hate you. I don't know you, but you're responsible for the death of my father, and I wish it had been you who got sent back in time. I don't know you, and I'm a better person for it.

Naked, heart thrumming, sweat drying in salty flakes against his skin, Bucky steps to his bedside table and grabs the opened envelope.

"I don't know you.

"But, I feel like I do," this Darcy goes on. "I know that must sound stupid. Crazy, even. But it's the truth. And the thing that makes it even weirder is that it isn't like I have some relatable tragic past. I didn't join the army in the 1940s. I didn't get tortured by Germans. Rescued by my best friend only to be dropped into the snow from a mountainside train only to be picked up by more Nazis, but somehow even worse Nazis than the other ones. Yeah. I'm sure you know your own life story. I don't need to keep going.

What I'm trying to say is I don't know you, but there's something about you that feels a part of myself. Like we're two people walking on opposite planes of existence, separated only by a thin wall, whose souls are calling out to each other.

Wow. Okay. See, that was creepy. I don't think you're my soulmate. I don't think anyone is anyone's soulmate.

Do you get what I mean though? I know you. And I feel the pain in your chest. It's like you've gone on a run on the coldest day of the year, right? Like your lungs have brain freeze.

You aren't alone. That's what I'm trying to say here.

Darcy"

He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it was nothing compared to the words Darcy Lewis from Williamsburg, Brooklyn wrote. Not a Captain America sob story then. Steve's name isn't mentioned once. There are several sections on the single-sided sheet scratched out. Funny, considering the lines she kept in.

The lines she kept in.

Bucky goes over the words again. And again, again, again.

You're not alone.

Something inside Bucky tenses. Or maybe it relaxes, flushing out decades of tension and sorrow in a single movement brought on by a single line written on a single page by a complete stranger. Trembling fingers place this first letter on the bed and reach, itching, for its companion. He remembers a similar sensation running through his body when he received the telegraph with his overseas assignment. Horse hoofs galloped within him, and he tore the sheet by accident, adding to the excited stress of the event. It was a life changing moment, the second his eyes read that taped together paper. Either he would die serving his country or return home having protected it - either way, he had just stepped through a portal into a new world in which the old Bucky Barnes didn't exist, would never exist.

These letters are moving him from one path to another. They must be, otherwise he is going mad. His body understands what his brain cannot - Darcy Lewis from Williamsburg, Brooklyn is changing his life.

[freudensteins-monster]

WIP in 10

I was tagged again by @yespumpkindoodlesthings. *waves*

Rules: Write out 10 words or phrases from your current wip, then tag 10 people to do the same.

So, apparently I didn’t read the simple instructions properly the first time and used phrases to describe the fic instead of phrases from the fic, but I’m not inclined to do it correctly this time around either, so :P Here’s ten tags I would use on the next most recent fic I had been working on, only a month ago, and that I had already completely forgotten about. Yeah, I worry about my brain too. :(

#wintershock

#no powers au

#modern au

#romance writer au

#coffee shop au

#romance writer doesn’t realise she’s in a coffee shop au

#marvel movies as romance novels

#lies of omission

#mutual pining

#gratuitous carol danvers cameo

Tagging whoever would like to give it a go.

[cchellacat]

Six Sentence Sunday

Six sentences from a current WIP I’m working on, inspired by a beautiful gif made by @spacemansam. 

From this post on tumblr.

By the time they land his impulses are locked down, it’s a cheat, letting the parts of him that remember being the soldier in, but he needs to be detached from this, needs focus and the cool calculation that Hydra so carefully instilled in him. 

The Winter Soldier doesn’t make mistakes and Bucky Barnes can’t afford to.

“It’s a trap, you get that. This is a set up to get their hands on you or kill you.”

“Cap has a point, this was meant to draw you in and take you out.”

Stark backing Steve’s assessment doesn’t do anything more than elicit a grim nod of agreement from him. 

They’re not wrong, the trap is obvious, but it doesn’t matter, not with Darcy’s life on the line.

Tagging anyone who wants to do it! xxxx

[ibelieveinturtles]

Added about 3000 words to my wip today. Don't wanna jinx myself and say it's almost finished but... the end is in sight.

[slytherinstarkravingmad]

I was supposed to be writing a short little fluff piece. Instead it’s grown into something much larger then I expected. It will be my first Wintershock and this adorable little thing plays a driving role. What should have been a quick and short story is now a little over 7k words and with a touch of angst. Hopefully I will have this done soon and then can get back to my other story.

[skyforgedsoul]

YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH WINTER SHOCK WIP

Hey @seibelsays & @snailsarecute this is for you.

Darcy is Bucky's Hydra handler AU

The start:

[ONCE UPON A DRUNKEN TIME..]

There was a family that was cursed, mixing their love of vodka and making bad decisions. Darcy was descended from those idiots and liked to blame all her bad luck on them.

Anyway. The whole shit show had started with Darcy’s parents. They'd met at a KGB training camp for spies and fallen in love hard and fast. So, of course, they were selected for a super special, long-term mission and since their dedication to the motherland knew no bounds, they'd accepted without question.

Without any further ado, they packed up their lives and moved to America. Becoming John and Jane Lewis, working in the White House and feeding information back to KGB.

That was only one part of the mission, though. The second part involved making babies. Lots and lots of babies. The kind that were US citizens by birth but would be raised as loyal soldiers for the motherland. 

That's where Darcy came into it the picture. She was kid number five and the only daughter to come out of the mission. To say her childhood was fucked up was an understatement. She was raised to speak English Russian, Ukrainian, French and Spanish. Every day after school she was drilled in martial arts and weapon handling. Hell, by the time she was twelve she could make an explosive out of her toys. 

Her whole life was spent training, in preparation to serve, to fulfil and carry out any orders she was given. And on her sixteenth birthday, her parents finally deemed her fit for duty, but also worth.

With that, she was introduced to the organisation that would shape the rest of her life and eventually the world: HYDRA.

[randomlittleimp]

Last Line Game

Rules: post the last line you wrote (from any WIP) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

So he grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer and a spoon and headed to his room to sulk.

I am not tagging 21 people, so whoever wants too can join in.

[my-lady-of-the-various-sorrows]

I'm trying to be more active on Tumblr, so I thought I post a link to my current WIP since I just added a new chapter on AO3.

Summary

When Darcy accepted the job with Stark Industries, she didn’t expect to end up being Howard Stark’s research assistant. But lab accidents will happen when you work for a scientist that is trying to rip holes in space to travel across the galaxy.

Who knew watching all those old movies on TCM with her grandmother might come in handy for something other than winning at trivia, like helping a modern 21st century woman to fit into the 1940s.

However, nothing could prepare her for falling for a man she knew would die during the war and being unable to stop it for fear of disrupting the timeline.

[anogete]

Choosing You Update

I just finished chapter 27.  I’ll start chapter 28 tomorrow and should finish it on Saturday.  Chapter 29 will probably be started on Saturday and finished on Sunday.  The epilogue can be done on Sunday or Monday, depending on how well this weekend’s writing sessions go.  Right now, it’s just over 140,000 words.  It’ll probably end up being between 152k and 155k.

The final nine chapters needed beta’d, and I need to review the first twenty as well as add song quotes and all that shit.  Soooooo... I’m still saying to expect the first chapter sometime the week of August 5th.  Soon!  I promise!

Sitting at my desk at work all day and then coming home and writing all evening has resulted in a very painful neck issue.  I have an appointment with my chiropractor tomorrow morning.  Hopefully, I’ll be on the mend afterward.  The things I do for fanfic!

[flashingcursor]

WIP talking/Snippet(s)?

So I realized that I missed the close and amnesty period for the first quarter of Fluff Bingo over on dreamwidth. Opps. So I have a card that is moot, but I’ll likely continue to poke at as time goes one. No worries there. But that realization got me looking into when trope bingo round 12 was closing and went oh man I have just under 54 days to try and get a bingo. I will take a single straight line for this. And well I was already eyeballing my “fighting for the remote” prompt on my marvelfluffbingo card anyway and there’s a fluff square that I can combine it with on my trope bingo card. 

So here is a tiny snippet from that wip. It’s Wintershock, it’s a one-shot that can technically stand on its own, but is also going to technically be part of my Just Another Tuesday/Bodyguard Bucky verse. No overt references to the verse will be included, but do they have to be?

She doesn’t hear the approach of another person. When someone snatches the remote from her loose grip she screams and feels like an idiot at once when she spots Bucky Barnes, destroyer of her life, standing behind the couch. The way his eyes are wide, but his mouth is twitching as he tries to keep a smile from forming has a growl emanating from her throat. And then his lips do curve into a smirk and an eyebrow rises.

“Something the matter Darcy?” He asks lightly coming around the couch and settles at the opposite end flipping quickly through channels to settle on a baseball game. Mets. Not the Yankees which she’s mildly surprised by but doesn’t comment on it.

“You stole my remote,” she grumbles.

“You weren’t using it.”

“And you came to that conclusion how?”

And since I’ve got a decent chunk of the next chapter of Dum-e No, Dum-e Yes written already I’m going to share a peek into that as well just below the read more because it’s much longer.

She pushes the door open and pauses to kick her shoes off while Jane stalks by her and settles at the kitchen island beyond the entryway and the bathroom reserved for company. The door closes with a click and Darcy heads to the kitchen to find something to do with her hands that doesn’t involve slamming them against hard inanimate surfaces. She settles on filling the tea kettle with water and setting it on the stove to come to a boil.

She fetches mugs and teabags. Takes the cream from the fridge and the little pot of sugar from its spot by the coffee machine, she sets it all on the island between Jane and where she plans to sit. Then she settles on the stool and waits her head dropping in her waiting palm when the silence stretches between them as if Jane is waiting for her to get the conversation started.

“I’m sorry,” she relents.

Jane lets out a slow breath and nods, “For?”

“Really Janey you’re going to play it like that?” The mad has drained out of her but that doesn’t leave Darcy any less testy as Jane pushes at her buttons and already frayed nerves.

“I am because you let your ego get the better of you and Bucky had a point. You won’t know what’s happening had that drill been for real. You made a choice that put both of us in danger. The only person you should be pissed at is yourself.”

“I hate when you get all logical on me,” she grumbles.

“I hate when you think you know better than everyone else and the people who write the safety protocols. Protocols that are there because being Avengers Adjacent is not a safe place to be and they’re trying to make as little of a threat as they can.” Straight to the point nonsense free.

Darcy heaves in a slow breath and taps her fingers on the marble counter of the island. Her friend has a point. It’s the same point Captain Rogers has been trying to get into her head for years now. Funny how it took a security drill, a little misinformation, and his best friend to get it through her head in a way that actually hit home. Too close to home and too easily at that. But on a good day, any one of them that was Avengers Adjacent was in low-level danger. They weren’t always going to be holed up in the tower snug as a bug in a rug. They had to go outside and deal with people and do work.

“I don’t know better. I just,” she trails off trying to puzzle out what she was trying to say because to finish with she didn’t care was stupid. It betrayed everything Tony tried to do to keep her safe. It betrayed Jane’s trust in her. She frowns and shakes her head instead of ever finishing it. The way Jane was looking at her smug but also disappointed said enough.

“I figured,” Jane says grimly her hands fisting the fabric of her pants as she looks away from Darcy to keep her from seeing the worst of it. They’ve been together a long time, but in some ways, Darcy still had growing up to do. Which isn’t surprising when Tony’s near perpetual manchild status is taken into account.

[blackirisposts]

100 Followers Appreciation Post (1/2)

Okay, so for part one of, how the hell are there so many people following me,  follower appreciation post, I’m officially open requests! Submit a request HERE!  

Annnnnd, I present some of my wips!

For WIPs (works in progress) I currently have some that will be going up in the next few weeks. These include: 

a comfort Tony x Reader (And the Living is Easy) 

a comfort Loki x Reader (Of Milk and Honey)

a mess of emotions and fluff for Darcy x Steve (Insomnia Happenstance)

a multi chapter fic involving a library and Bucky x Darcy (creative working title of ‘Libraries’) 

 But! I also have a few ideas / a few works started, and here’s the fun part! If you like one or several, let me know and I’ll move it farther up on my ‘to write / finish’ list. 

Working Title of ‘Skinny’ – Darcy x Steve; Steve and Bucky return from a mission and Steve isn’t exactly how he was when he left. Comfort and fluff.

Stress leads to Pillow Forts and Pizza – Darcy x Steve; stress and fluff and comfort. Surprise pillow forts can be the best comfort sometimes.

Wanderer – Darcy x Bucky – Soulmate AU – Your soulmate’s middle name is tattooed on your body.

Working Title of “Yoga and the Problem of Oversized Shirts” – Reader x Bucky – You didn’t technically steal his shirt, but it’s now your favorite for yoga.  Fluff and stuff ensues.  

Head Space – Darcy x Steve && Darcy x Bucky – Darcy likes Steve, Steve likes Darcy, Bucky likes Darcy, and Bucky asks Darcy out first. Let’s see what happens – feels and fluff and recuperation.