Tasertricks We live door to door and your loud singing in the shower every evening annoys the shit out of me AU

mischiefgoddesscomplex:

1. Loki can’t stand it anymore. One night, when he can’t sleep again, he makes a list of things worse than this. Surprisingly, he would prefer death itself to the pain inflicted upon his eardrums every night. Who in the nine realms showers at 2 a.m. anyway? And, by Odin, who sings their lungs out while doing it? He has no idea who lives next door; he’s never seen her. But he vows to one day make her life just as miserable as she’s made his. 
2. When he walks outside the building the next morning, he finds a young woman standing underneath a tree. She’s very beautiful, but that’s not quite what catches his eye: she’s got her hands cupped around her mouth, yelling up into the tree. He approaches the strange girl, who explains that her cat climbed up the tree and won’t come down. She purses her lips together and blows out a little irritated huff, sending a curly tendril of hair up and out of her face. She’s actually quite adorable, and he smirks a little as he turns towards the cat, clicks his tongue twice, and watches with satisfaction as the cat hops down the branches and back into her arms. “Dude, what? I’m so baking you a cake for that. You’ve definitely earned a cake,” She exclaims with disbelief. “I’m Darcy Lewis by the way. Do you live in the building, too?” Loki affirms that he does, and, after giving her his apartment number, sets off feeling marginally less grumpy than when he started the day. 
3. Darcy Lewis shows up with his cake the next evening. However, she also shows up absolutely covered in flour, frosting, and food coloring. Somehow though, she’s managed to look even cuter. She gives him a sheepish grin as he invites her inside, and she asks, “Would you mind if I used your shower? My hot water’s off.” Loki obliges, because, really, why would he not? He’s sitting on his sofa, flipping through a novel, when he hears it. It. The singing. Coming from his bathroom. And everything clicks. It’s her. He marches towards the bathroom door, fully intending to have it out with her about what a nuisance she’s been ever since he moved in. But before he can turn the handle, she’s swinging it open from the other side, a cotton white towel clinging from her body, water still dripping from her hair and sliding down her exposed neck and chest. She looks up at his angry expression with an innocent one of her own, water droplets beading on her long lashes like jewels, and asks, “Is something wrong?” Every bone he’s ever had to pick with her is wiped clean from his mind. Suddenly, for some reason, he feels like maybe her singing isn’t quite that bad after all. “Ah, no. Nothing’s wrong. Everything is…great.” 

(send me an au and I’ll give you 3 headcanons about it!)