That ‘Loki turns __________ into a cute, baby animal’ trope; Darcy’s turn.

He’d only lost track of the man who he thought looked entirely too much like supposedly-dead Loki for a few seconds, but Steve skidded to a halt as he turned the corner and saw no one on the street behind Darcy’s favorite café at all.

Well, no one save a tiny, dark-haired kitten daintily lapping at the cream atop a puddle of spilled Hazelnut Mocha Latté next to some apparently-discarded women’s clothing.  

Steve lifted the kitten, admonishing, “I’m not sure that’s good for you, kitty.”

The kitten hissed, struggled, and batted at his gloved hand.  When he held her still and looked her in the eye, she gave a plaintive ‘mew.’

He’d always thought himself a dog-guy, but something about the intelligent and fearless look on the kitten’s face melted his heart.  He stroked her soft cheek.  “Aren’t you a daring little beauty!  Your eyes are as gorgeous as Darcy’s.”  

Huh. Got it in one,” thought Kitten-Darcy.  Then, “Wait.  You think my eyes are gorgeous?

Steve glanced around as though to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “And she has the prettiest eyes ever.”  When the kitty only stared at him, he explained,  “Darcy’s the girl, I mean woman… Ah. Fuck it.  She’s the dame I’m dizzy for.”  His lips twisted to a teasing grin.  “Don’t tell anyone and we can be friends.”

Her tiny kitten heart raced with joy. 

Steve grinned as the kitten purred madly. “You like me, too? OK!  I’ll take you home with me, sweet girl.  I have milk there, which I hope will agree with you better than coffee.  And, I need a shower. It’s been a long day.”  He looked her over while she squirmed, almost as though embarrassed. “You seem clean, but maybe I’ll wash you up, too.” 

Darcy went still as she stared at him. “I’ll be the first kitten EVER to enter a shower willingly.”  She licked his face, delighting as he laughed with pleasure.

Missions aside, they were inseparable from that moment on.

The magic lasted one full lunar cycle. 

Then, Darcy woke as Steve cried out her name.  She looked around them at his moonlit room, noting that the scale of her world had changed again. 

She was human.

And, she was naked.  And, she was in Steve’s bed lying with her head and hands atop his bare chest- wriggling against him and feeling the relief of skin instead of fur on her body- not to mention the pleasure of feeling his skin and oh-so-tight boxer briefs against her. And, he looked shocked, though pleased.  And, she wasn’t sorry for scratching any of the women who flirted with him while she lived with him as a kitten.  And, she wasn’t sorry for staring at him every time he was naked or partially unclothed. 

And, she was really tired of kitten food.

And, she remembered every word he’d said about his all-consuming crush on her (Human-her, that is).  He had turned to Kitten-Darcy as his confidante in recent weeks.  He talked about Human-Darcy a LOT, worrying about her and lusting over her and longing for her.  

He was crazy about her and it was awesome, especially now that she was finally human again.

Steve stuttered, “S-s-so… THIS is where you’ve been all this time!  We were so worried.  How?!”  His cheeks reddened as he thought of all the things he’d admitted and done in front of Kitten-Darcy.  He texted a message to Jane that Darcy was safe and with him. “Shit. Sorry.  I mean… not that you haven’t heard how secretly foul my language is, but, damn.  I guess you know all my secrets now.”

She shrugged, closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his from habit.  “I don’t know how.  I was drinking coffee and not really watching where I was going.  The next thing I knew, you pulled me away from what was left of my coffee.”  She faux-pouted and then grinned impishly, eyes crinkling with amusement.  “Thanks for taking good care of me.”  

When his phone buzzed, she took it from him and texted replies to Jane, including many exclamations and virtual hugs. Then, as Jane needed to hear her voice and Darcy was glad to be able to talk again, she called her friend and reassured her that she was well and looked forward to seeing her in a few hours.  She ended the call and returned her full attention to the man she lay on.  

“If it helps, I’m crazy about you, too. I have been for a while.”

He nodded and sighed ruefully as he watched her. “Do you remember everything since I found you?”  

She nodded and grinned knowingly.  “Uh huh.  Everything.”  She winked at him.

He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair back from her face. “Oh. Well, okay then.”  He shifted beneath her.

She uttered a small giggle.  “I didn’t even know that you liked my eyes before, much less…”

He ducked his head, admitting, “I like your eyes.  I like you.”

She raised a brow at him.  “You confessed that to Kitten-me about one hundred times and you talk in your sleep.  I have a pretty good idea what you dream about.  You’re not the innocent the others think you are, thank goodness.”

He blushed even more as she rolled off him, stretched in a thoroughly cat-like manner, and sauntered to the bathroom. 

“Are you leaving now?”

She turned back and shook her head.  “No.  I want to brush my teeth, clean up like a dame, and come back to bed with you, if it’s okay.  You’ve talked about a lot of things that we can do now that I’m myself again.”

He chuckled.  “That sounds perfect.”


I want a fic where Darcy and Tony start hanging out a lot bc she brings him sandwiches and is always there when he bothers Jane/Bruce for science and he notices that they both hate red licorice but love anise cookies and they have the same sense of humor and then one day she just says something that reminds him so much of Howard from his good/younger years that he just stops and stares at her like oh my god you look like my father OH MY GOD YOU MIGHT BE MY DAUGHTER.

So Tony, being Tony, rather than asking if she’s adopted or missing a father, just takes a blood sample from her without asking and does a paternity test in his lab.

It’s positive.

Tony cries. A LOT.

He starts hanging out with her more and buying her things, commenting on her dating life (I don’t CARE if he’s captain america, Pep, NO ONE is good enough to date MY daughter!!), and all around failing at trying to subtly father her.

It gets to a point where one day Darcy gets in trouble and she needs a blood transfusion and he volunteers bc she has his blood type and she wakes up with him asleep and drained next to her bed and she cracks a joke about how she knows he thinks of her like his daughter but he knows he’s not really her father, right? and Tony just smiles and starts crying bc his little girl is all grown up and safe and he’s so sorry he missed so much but he couldn’t be prouder of who she’s become and i just-

Can somebody please write this for me?


Page Six and Me, Disco 2000 Returns? and Jared Leto’s Oscar Nod!
- Steve Lewis, Blackbook ( x )

“On another sort of coincidence, side note kind of thing, I am pleased that Jared Leto was nominated this morning for Best Supporting Actor for his role in Dallas Buyers Club. He won at the Golden Globes.  I have seen a number of articles and Facebook rants accusing him of homophobia because he didn’t say enough about the AIDS epidemic, the core theme of the movie. Jared Leto is not homophobic. At Disco 2000 and lots of other type events I and many others got to hang with a young Jared quite often. He hung out with everyone at this mixed, mostly gay weekly event that sometimes came close to being “the biggest and wildest party NYC has ever seen.” I ran into him on the street a couple years ago and after some hugs we chatted and he was the same guy I remember. He is a great guy and I think sometimes writers look for stories that aren’t really there and in that process do damage.”

for Disco 2000 Limelight Club Kids Circa 1991
article and photo credit

(archived: X )

* context is everything
Latest Press: More from BlackBook's Steve Lewis on last night's OUTLAW Group Art Show opening at White Box

“My DJ gig at the opening of the Outlaw Group Art Show at White Box Gallery got severly raided by NYPD who must of thought there were real outlaws in there instead of the art and downtown-chic set. I was entertaining them with old and new-school swill while they were enjoying the visuals, when the boys in blue took exception to the good time. They did have some reasons to be un-cheerful as it was a little crowded and there were hundreds of people clamoring to get inside, but they seemed a little heavy-handed. Well, the art is still up, and there’s all sorts of new things going on over there everyday so check it out.”

My housemate and I found a reason to watch the olympics.

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His name is Steve Lewis. He’s a pole vaulter from the UK.

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You’re welcome, followers.

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How does he even.

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I am suddenly very, very interested in men’s pole vault. Guess who’s getting up at 4am on Saturday to watch the finals?

Steve Rogers and the 22 Push-up Challenge

Because of the video and gif sets of you know who doing pushups.  Totally un-edited and rapidly written.    What’s a super hero to do when he needs to do 22 pushup videos in 22 days?  Call in The Fixer.  Darcy Lewis.  Pairings: Darcy/Steve, background Bucky/Nat, Jane/Thor and Helen/Sam

Steve Rogers and the 22 Push-Up Challenge

“Do you understand what you’ve done?”

Natasha’s question was warranted.  Steve had just done a video on his official twitter of 22 pushups  He’d have to post another video a day of him doing 22 pushups.  And he’d made the foolish mistake of challenging two friends to do the same.  

Sam Wilson.

And Thor.

Motherfucking Thor.

Natasha’s phone dinged with an alert and she held it up without even looking at it and Sam’s response video began to play.

He was in a sleeveless muscle shirt and despite the fact that the weather had suddenly turned cool and autumnal, he was sweating far more than seemed normal.  Almost like he had been sprayed down with something before he hit record.  He heard feminine giggling in the background of the video and knew that Helen was in the background.  

“Take that Cap!  Here’s my challenge to you and Big Thunder.  Whoever gets the most likes and retweets on these videos is the Pushup King and gets to pick the other’s Halloween costumes.  Boom.  I just did that.  WILSON OUT.

“Shit,” Steve huffed out in annoyance.

Keep reading

captainevans  asked:

For your prompts, would you be able to do: “I'd die for you. Of course, I'd haunt you in the afterlife but it's the thought that counts, really." for Darcy/Steve?

The ringing in her ears was making it hard to focus on what Steve was saying, especially with her eyes squeezed shut to focus on breathing. But considering the last thing she remembered was a huge green hand coming at her, she figured it was probably better than the alternative.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she forced out, hopefully without slurring.

His fingers had been working their way over her face and head, so that could have been part of her distraction. She wanted to enjoy Steve finally breaking the touch barrier they’d been dancing around for the last week, but he then none-too-gently prodded a particularly sensitive spot and she swatted him away with a grunt.

“Maybe I’d believe you were fine if you hadn’t just taken a serious knock from the Hulk.”

She snorted, but didn’t say anything as his hands once again found their way to her, which she hoped was more for his comfort than hers. Though it wasn’t a bad situation for her either.

“And maybe I’d believe you if you’d actually look at me.”

Darcy did as he asked, but purposely crossed her eyes at him.



His fingers found that bump again and she hissed once more, but didn’t pull away since he kept his touch soft.

His brows furrowed and he seemed to think about his words for a second.

“That’s big enough I’d really like you to get checked out by medical. Make sure you haven’t caused any lasting damage.”

This time she fixed him with a glare.

Lasting damage? You always say the sweetest things.”

He chuckled as he slid his hands back down to gently hold the back of her neck, his thumbs softly rubbing along the joint of her jaw. After a moment, he let out a long breath.

“I mean it.” He paused, bending down to look her straight in the eye. “And next time the Hulk decides to take a cheap swing at me, stay out of the way.”

She was able to actually give a half laugh at that.

“Trust me. It was not intentional.” Her ears were finally settling down and she felt much more stable as her hands wound around his wrists as she gave him a wry smile. “But, just so you know, I’m way brave. And patriotic. I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife, but it’s the thought that counts, really.”

His lips twitched but he answered in a solemn tone.

“And a very cute ghost you’d make.”

“No,” Darcy shook her head, but winced at the emphatic movement. She steadied herself for a moment and fixed him with a meaningful stare. “I’d be a terrifying ghost.”

His chuckle returned, but softer.

“Terrifyingly cute.”

She wasn’t sure that was really what she meant, but figured she’d make a point of arguing it later since he was leaning in slowly. If she wasn’t mistaken, they were about to be sprinting right past the kissing barrier too.


Darcy/Steve Ruby Sparks AU

Steve Rogers became a literary darling with the release of his first novel at the age of nineteen, but in the decade since, he’s struggled to compose his second completed work that would live up to his previous success. He also struggles in finding relationships, feeling most people are only interested in an idolized and preconceived notion of who they think he is. Following the advice of his therapist, Sam Wilson, Steve pulls out an old manual typewriter and creates a vivacious brunette named Darcy Lewis. Overnight, Darcy leaps out of the page as a real flesh and blood woman. And what’s more, she’s completely unaware that she’s a fictional character and that her actions and feelings are dictated by whatever Steve writes.

Darcy Lewis. Twenty-five years old. Raised in Dayton, Ohio. Why Dayton? It sounds romantic. Darcy’s first crushes were Humphrey Bogart and John Lennon. She cried the day she found out they were already dead. Darcy got kicked out of high school for sleeping with her art teacher…or maybe her French teacher. I haven’t decided yet. Darcy can’t drive. She doesn’t own a computer. She hates her middle name, which is Marie. She always, always roots for the underdog. She’s complicated. That’s what I like best about her. Darcy’s not so good at life sometimes. She forgets to open bills and cash checks…her last boyfriend was an alcoholic. She can feel a change coming. She’s looking for it. Something new.

What’s your dog’s name? Scotty. Named him after F. Scott Fitzgerald. Isn’t that disrespectful? What? Naming your dog after him? It’s a little disrespectful. Think about it. You’re a novelist. You think this guy’s the greatest. So you name your dog after him to cut him down to size. This way, you can put him on a leash..and yell ‘Bad Scotty!’ and feel all superior because you pee inside. Kill your idols, man. I’m all for it.

I had a weird dream last night. There was this girl. What did she look like? …Like a normal girl, someone I made up. Did you have sex? No, she just talked to me. That’s fucking depressing. It was actually really nice. Seriously? You don’t even get laid in your dreams? That’s just sad.

Hey Steve, what did you think the first time you saw me? I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Were you disappointed when you got to know me? How can you ask that, Darce? I’m such a mess. I love your mess. The first time I saw you, I thought, ‘Look at that boy. I’m going to love him forever, and ever, and ever.’ What if you get sick of me? I won’t. I promise.

I’m not your child! You don’t get to decide what I do. Wanna bet?

I’m not writing about you. I wrote you. Darcy..I won’t..not anymore. Never again. You’re free. I love you, you’re free.

This is the true and impossible story of my very great love. In the hope that she will not read this and reproach me, I’m withholding many telling details. I cannot help but write this for her, to tell her: I’m sorry for every word I wrote to change you, I’m sorry for so many things. I couldn’t see you when you were here and, now that you’re gone, I see you everywhere. One may read this and think it’s magic, but falling in love is an act of magic. So is writing. It was once said of Catcher in the Rye, “That rare miracle of fiction has again come to pass: a human being has been created out of ink, paper, and the imagination.” I am no J.D. Salinger, but I have witnessed a rare miracle. Any writer can attest: in the luckiest happiest state, the words are not coming from you, but through you. She came to me wholly herself, I was just lucky enough to be there to catch her.

Kiss me, stupid.


Darcy Lewis: Emergency Petsitter - Chapter 4

by Archetype_ElectraHeart // pepperpottsblogs

“Darcy, please tell me that you did not liberate the residents of yet another pet store during the battle yesterday,” Jane groaned. “I know you still worry about whatever became of poor Barkley-“

“Baker,” Darcy corrected.

“Regardless,” Jane plowed on, “you cannot just take puppies in the midst of combat situations and claim them as your own.”

“Not to worry, Jane, I did not take him from a pet store. I found this one in an alley.”


“It’s Steve,” Darcy explained.

“Who names their dog Steve?” Jane asked. “That’s a terrible name.”


“Well, we hope he won’t stay a dog for long,” Darcy clarified. “And it’s not such a terrible name for a human.”

Jane gaped at her, eyes darting between the puppy on the floor and Darcy’s amused smile. “Hold up. You’re telling me that that is actually Steve. Like,” Jane held a hand high above her head, “about yeah tall, blue eyes, occasionally goes by Captain America. That Steve.”

“The very same, yes.”