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thepartyresponsible · 5 years

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Oh man! With the alt title being Jason Todd is not a stripper, I'm deffinatly interested!

(context for the morning crowd: i’m finishing up asks from the WIPs meme, and this ask is about corporate espionage, which is alternatively titled jason todd is not a stripper.)

okay, so the premise of this absolutely ludicrous caper is that jason todd is in a competition with tim drake to steal stark industries files. jason, being jason, breaks into stark tower and wanders right into a drunk tony stark, who very rationally assumes he’s a stripper.

here’s a snippet:

Jason has very diligently cultivated an insistently blissfulignorance about the shit-match going on between Wayne Enterprises and StarkIndustries. The Bats have been gossiping about it for weeks, but Jason’s noheir, so he doesn’t give a damn about Bruce’s legal troubles. It isn’t hisproblem until he offers, jokingly, to terrorize some of the higher-ups at SI,and Tim stares at him like he was a zoo animal.

“It’s really not that kind of problem,” he says, finally.“If we need someone brutalized, we’ll call you.”

And so, after that, Jason, who hasn’t been interested in Wayne Enterprises since his untimelydeath took him out of the will, is suddenly dedicated to solving the problem.Or at least dedicated to putting himself in a position where he could solve it if he wanted to and thenwalking away, because, after all, fuck Bruce, fuck Wayne Enterprises, and fuckTim, in particular.

There are any number of layers to this corporate dustup.Jason can’t make himself care about most of them, since they are, objectively,really fucking boring.

As far as he can tell, accusations of corporate espionageare being batted around from both sides, and the most damning evidence consistsof some surfaced SI schematics that look alarmingly similar to somethingWayneTech developed in one of its most locked-down research institutes.

The WayneTech project predates the SI developments bysomething like three months, but SI insists the weapon is its own and hassubmitted – no shit, as actual evidence –a coaster from a Vegas strip club. Allegedly, the coaster has an early draft ofthe project drawn on it, and, as the coaster also clearly lists the dates ofupcoming themed evenings, it can be dated back to at least four weeks beforethe WayneTech project started development.

Jason had no idea corporate work sometimes involved Vegasstrip clubs. If Bruce had ever bothered to mentioned that, Jason could’ve beenbrought on board years earlier.

For now, though, the plan seems to be that Tim’s going tohack his way into some hideously well-protected system in Stark Tower and scareup some useful files.

Normally, when Jason’s trying to one-up Tim in the techworld, he just goes to Oracle and sweet-talks her into helping. But this time, she turns him down flat.“Can’t do it, Jay,” she says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I’m supposed tostay out of this one.”

“Babs, c’mon. Did Drake threaten you? I can shoot himagain.”

“Please don’t. And it wasn’t Tim. Sorry, Jay, but this ordercomes from a little above your paygrade.”

“Goddamn interfering old man.” Bruce gets so shifty about a little competitionbetween Robins. Enforces rules, keeps the others out of it. Like he has to testthem against each other periodically so he knows which one to weaponize whenthe time comes.

It’s bullshit. Tim outclasses him in the tech arena so badlyit’s almost embarrassing. But, over the years, Jason has gathered that havingphysical access to a system can make gaining digital access a hell of a loteasier. So he leaves Tim to hunch spiderlike over his laptop and grabs hisbike, takes a trip to New York.

Getting into Stark Tower is annoying. The security isn’t aggressive so much as it’s obnoxiouslythorough and high-tech. Jason can get in, no problem, but getting in without beingrecorded is a damn nightmare. Fortunately, Jason’s been breaking into Bruce’sbuildings to appropriate necessary supplies for years.

It still takes him the better part of a two days to find away in. It involves an inelegant total of two full costume changes, and he hasto hide in an elevator shaft for three hours, waiting for the security toswitch shifts.

It’s a mess. He won’t be bragging about this part to anyone.

The point is, he gets in.

That first night, he doesn’t even plan to look for files.He’s just looking for an easier way back in. His plan is either to capitalizeon the routes the cleaning staff use, which will require getting some kind ofidentification and probably a keycard, or to gain access to the penthouse. Thepenthouse will undoubtedly be a bitch to get into but, once accessed, shouldopen up the whole tower. Security, in Jason’s experience, doesn’t run backwardsvery well.

He tries the penthouse first. As far as he knows, Stark isalmost never here, which means security might be obligingly lax. And, sureenough, as soon as Jason steps into the private elevator, it hums welcominglyand starts taking him up. There’s a chance, of course, that the doors won’topen once he gets there, but he’s reasonably confident that he can cope withsomething as simple as recalcitrant elevator doors.

But he encounters no problems. The doors open smoothly onthe penthouse floor. And Jason thinks this whole thing is going easier thananticipated, thinks he’ll be in and out of here in forty-eight hours.

And then he notices the man on the couch.

It’s a nice couch. The sort of thing some interior designerwould order for Bruce, when he’s in one of his intimidating black leather phases. Bruce probably wouldn’t orderthe man, but, then, Jason’s never been too clear on Bruce’s type.

He’s lean and brunette, which sort of fits Bruce’s profile,but he’s also very clearly drunk, which does not. The man stares at him for along moment, lazily assessing him without any hint of concern or alarm. Hedoesn’t even bother to lift his head off the back of the couch.

“Stripper or felon?” he asks, after several long seconds of contemplation.He slurs it, but only a little.

“Uh,” Jason says. He considers strategizing, but then thinksfuck it and steps out of theelevator. “I have to pick a favorite?”

The man snorts and waves a hand his direction. “You show up.You’re wearing leather. Face and shoulders like that, you’re either here tobreak things or take your clothes off. So. Stripper or felon?”

“Well,” Jason says, “I don’t have any music. So.”

“Not a problem.” The man tips his head back to look at theceiling. “JARVIS, play something sexy. And maybe call the cops. Standby on thatsecond one. They always ruin a party.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” says a disembodied voice.

Immediately, music starts playing from hidden speakers.There’s definitely enough bass to qualify as sexy, but Jason’s not sure thebeat’s right for stripping.

He opens his mouth to point this out, but the man’s faster.“No, JARVIS. Slower. There are buttons involved. Not everything’s zippers andVelcro. Jesus.” He looks at Jason and shrugs. The music shifts to something ata more reasonable tempo. “I try to tell him. But human sexuality’s kind of anobjective thing. He’s working on it. We’re working on it.”

“You, uh.” Jason’s having trouble with this one. “You fuckyour ceiling robot?”

“My what? Probably.” He shrugs, unconcerned, and thensuddenly blinks and grimaces. “Wait, no. JARVIS? No. God.”

Jason shifts, tries to follow. “But you’re working on humansexuality together?”

“In a sort of studious, very platonic—JARVIS, I don’t wantto fuck you.”

“I know, sir.” The robot voice sounds, somehow,long-suffering.

The man nods and pushes himself up so he’s not sprawledquite so haphazardly across the couch. “Hey, weren’t you getting naked?”

He sounds so certain, so absolutely convinced that this isthe next step in their interaction, that Jason’s hands go to his jacket’szipper of their own volition. “What?” he says, and stops himself. “No. Hell,no. I walk in here, and you tell me to get naked? What the hell? Who raisedyou?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He smiles at him, in a kind of sweetly embarrassed,I’m drunk, bear with me way, and thenfumbles in his pants. “Pay first?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jason says, laughing a little as he makes hisway across the living room. He can already tell this is going to be one ofthose stories that makes Grayson cry fromlaughing so hard. “You gotta pay me first.”

He watches Stark pull a handful of bills from his wallet anddrop them casually on the coffee table. Jason doesn’t bother to count, but it’supwards of $500.

Christ, he thinks,maybe I’m in the wrong profession.

#writing #asks

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afirethatcannotdie · 7 years

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first lines

i was tagged by @phd-mama, @xabjectlessonsx, @cherrystreet, @mediawhorefics, and @alivingfire to post the first lines of 20 of my fics. i figured it was time i actually do it. i don’t have 20 published fics, so i’m gonna do these in chronological order and then add some WIPs at the end.

1. my heart, it went wild: “You have the check-in info, right? The printout or whatever?” Niall asks.

2. The Boys of Summer: “Louis, please, if you can’t do this for yourself, please do it for me,” his mum begs. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have signed up you without asking first, but you need a job and this pays well. Gets you out of here and expands your horizons. Please.”

3. Anywhere I Would Have Followed You: “Monsieur Styles, your room is on the third floor. Just through there and then up three flights of stairs and it’s on the left,” the clerk says as she hands him a keycard. “There’s no lift; would you like me to get someone to carry your bag up to your room, sir?”

4. If The Fates Allow: Christmas has been Harry Styles' favorite time of year his entire life.

5. if we build a strong enough foundation: Louis is still awake.

6. My Arms Are Hungry For You: It’s Halloween night, and Harry’s socks itch.

7. You Spin Me Right Round: Louis is in the middle of rifling through a drawer next to the till for an iPhone charger when his life changes.

8. All The Lines We Cast Will Bring Us Home: The first time he hears of Louis Tomlinson, he’s eighteen years old and eating breakfast in a hotel suite in Los Angeles.

9. This Restless Dream: Louis stares at the phone as it rings for the third time in half an hour. He doesn’t pick up.

10. We Are Only Just Beginning: “Hey, not to be rude or anything, but can you keep it the fuck down?” This is how it starts, fifteen words spoken in a dorm kitchen with shitty lighting on a Tuesday night. Or, really, a Wednesday morning, if you want to get technical about it.

11. Ain’t My Fault: Louis wakes to the beeping of the smoke alarm.

12. Never Be Ready: It’s Harry’s shaky intake of breath that clues Louis into the fact that something is off.

13. Do Not Go Gentle: Harry pushes open the door to Smoky’s Bar, praying that the dilapidated sign with its burnt out letters isn’t a reflection of the interior. The bar sits among a row of stores, two with brightly lit ‘closed’ signs and one that’s just an empty storefront, looking like it hasn’t been touched in the 26 years he’s been alive.

14. island au: The ferry terminal is packed. While they sit in the car waiting to disembark, Harry counts no less than four children already screaming for ice cream, one lost couple asking for directions while they’re still on the boat, and seven girls crammed into one huddle for a group selfie.

15. royal au: “Air,” Harry mutters, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “I need… outside.”

16. abandoned footie au: “I can’t do this,” says Louis. “You can,” says Niall, “and you will. Stop pissing me off and get out there.” Niall answers, glaring at him as he slips on his shoe and starts to tie up his first set of laces.

17. abandoned established relationship au: “Yup, I’ll talk to you later then, Gems,” Harry says as he struggles to open the door to his flat, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he tries to keep his bag on his other shoulder and stop the takeaway boxes from tumbling to the ground as he unlocks the door.

18. abandoned fake relationship au: “Lou, your tea’s almost done!” Harry calls from the kitchen. He finishes stirring the second cup and throws the spoon into the dishwasher, wondering what’s taking Louis so long.

not totally sure how I'm supposed to analyze this, except for noticing that I started off using a lot of dialogue and I've branched out from that. I'm inexplicably proud of “It’s Halloween night, and Harry’s socks itch.”

I have zero clue who’s done this so @floralhoran @lululawrence @letsjustsee and anyone else who hasn’t but wants to, you’re tagged!

#fic meme

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