#mutantkasper

@mutant-kasper

[ The birthday message is adorable and right on time -- she’d been falling into a bit of a funk over the last hour or so and had needed the distraction from her thoughts. Texts and phone calls from her dad and both siblings (and their significant others) had kept her smiling all morning, but when lunchtime came around without T’Challa, Darcy had felt her mood slipping.

Knowing Kasper will be home soon helps though. Or at least, she hopes he’ll be home. He might have plans for Halloween that she knows nothing about... ]

(212): oye fideo

@mutant-kasper

“Come on, fideo. If we miss the cut-off for breakfast because you were primping like a diva, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

“Um. So. I may or may not need your help reaching a tall thing.”

@mutant-kasper:

 Kasper sits across from their building, watching Darcy through the windows, every feature sharp and clear despite the distance. His own is wide open, making his room colder than the inside of the fridge, but the door’s closed and he’s laid a sweater under the crack to keep the chill from going into the apartment.  

He doesn’t trust himself to go in there yet. Harry hasn’t called yet, and he’s spent the past however long just watching Darcy– which he realizes is a little creepy, but if he goes in there right now he’s not going to know how to not tell her, and he can’t stomach the thought of it. Not until Harry calls, because then they’ll be caught for sure, and they won’t be able to come near her again. And he’ll feel better, for not having gone after them, to make sure of it himself.

The screen of Darcy’s cell phone lights up and he takes off in an instant, crossing the distance in seconds and landing in his bedroom with a loud thunk, half-morphed. One of the wings isn’t quite human enough yet, and he feels it twist as he lands awkwardly; the sharping sting of pain follow into his right wrist as his bones extend, and his arm gives out when he tries to use the hand to push himself up.

        Taisce’s barking at his door, and he has to keep going, opening it with his good hand, hoping he’s there in time.

It’s quiet when her phone rings, and Darcy’s almost grateful for it. She has the television on for background noise -- Clue’s been on demand for the last few weeks, so she has it on repeat 24/7 now -- but the apartment feels lonely without Kasper there. She knows he’s not in his room though she’s not sure whether or not she’s supposed to know that, and Taisce is fabulous company as always, but... there’s something creeping down her spine like oil, something prickling the hairs on the back of her neck into standing on end. It’s... disturbing, is what it is. She almost wants to scream just to break the mounting tension she feels tightening her shoulders.

So when Lady Gaga counts down and starts singing about summer boys and asses getting in beds, she nearly groans with relief. Of the very short list of people who’d be able to get her through whatever’s got her on edge, he’s near the top.

                            “Harry,” she breathes, the solace she feels at just knowing he’s on the other end of the line clear in her voice.

The second she brings the phone to her ear, a loud thud echoes from down the hall, startling her and the puppy. Taisce runs down the hall towards Kasper’s bedroom, and Darcy lowers the phone long enough to shout in his direction.

                                          “Are you okay?”

Bring the phone back up, she sighs, pacing aimlessly in front of the couch.

                            “Hi, sorry. What’s up? How are you?”

There pizza she makes him is huge.

Huge.

She’s not even sure how she managed to get it in the oven.

Darcy works hard all day to get it finished before he comes home from work. The giant square monstrosity isn’t one of the boxed, frozen deals: this one she makes herself from scratch. The crust and the sauce are the two most important parts and the most time-consuming, but she knows it’ll be worth it in the end.

So she starts early, getting up as soon as he’s out the door to head to Oscorp to put the tomatoes on for the sauce and make the crust so it can rise. The pepperoni she slices and puts to the side, arranging them in a very specific pattern when they’re ready to be added to the pizza and baked.

She folds her acceptance letter to Parsons and sticks it back into its envelope. The pizza gets wrapped up tightly and the letter goes on top of the whole thing which she leaves on top of the stove for him to see when he gets home. If he reads the letter first, he’ll know exactly what the message means. Hopefully he’ll get a kick out of the whole thing. She happens to think it was a pretty cool idea to leave him a message in pepperonis: