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hear the roar of the plotbunny!
So ages ago, I asked for ideas for writing prompts, and then I never did anything with them. I am working through them now! In the meantime, I am taking more suggestions. My brain is being eaten by Iron Man (either the movie or the comic is fair game, bearing in mind that my comic-knowledge is not exhaustive and is focused from the late seventies through the early nineties. Also fair game: the 2006 or 7 Invincible Iron Man animated film), it is true, but I can also write in a lot of other fandoms. Hot Fuzz, Star Wars: X-Wing, Run Fatboy Run, Indiana Jones, Bones, The Office, M*A*S*H, Firefly, and The Red Star immediately come to mind, though I have a bunch of other fandoms that I feel comfortable in; if you think I'll write for a fandom, chances are excellent that you're correct!
'Suggestions' can be pairings, situations you've always wanted to see, a word, a color, a character... I am easy. I will write anything as long as the idea doesn't make me run screaming from the computer, which would be a very hard thing to accomplish, and it might have to win somebody points of some sort if they actually manage it.
Look, I am even making this post public!
Save meeeee.
'Suggestions' can be pairings, situations you've always wanted to see, a word, a color, a character... I am easy. I will write anything as long as the idea doesn't make me run screaming from the computer, which would be a very hard thing to accomplish, and it might have to win somebody points of some sort if they actually manage it.
Look, I am even making this post public!
Save meeeee.
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I stand by none of the "science" represented here
When Riley Poole regrets his choice of a secluded park bench and then shuts the hell up for once in his life, it sounds like this: …
“What,” says Iron Man, voice filtered and deep and unmistakably angry, “do you think you’re doing?”
Riley stares up at the superhero’s dented faceplate. His glasses hang askew and he holds his laptop clutched to his chest. “Uh,” he says.
“You almost killed me. What the hell are you running?”
“Uh.”
“Who sent you? Hammer, the Mandarin, the Beetle – who?”
“Nobody sent me,” says Riley. “I swear. Was I supposed to be sent?”
Iron Man picks him up by the front of his jacket; only Riley’s practiced technology-grabbing reflexes save the laptop. His legs kick uselessly. “H-hey! Whoa! Okay, okay okay! I was working on a hack into the DoD servers! I have no idea how it messed with you! Unless—” He cocks his head to the side. “Wait, are you – are you running a voice-activated integrated artificial intelligence system?”
“Do you really think I’m going to stand here and give away trade secrets, Short Round? What are you doing in DoD business?”
“You are,” says Riley, awed. “How do you—”
“Hey, hey! Let’s have a little focus here, huh?” Iron Man lifts Riley higher; Riley goes, “Gurk—” “Go ahead and answer the question, pipsqueak.”
“Well, it’s—” Riley coughs and tugs at his collar with his free hand. “It’s kind of a long story, and I’d really, really do a better job telling it on the ground.”
“Tough.”
Riley exhales sharply. “I work with Ben Gates.”
“Gates – the treasure hunter?”
“That’s the one. We’re on a hunt and we need charts of the old sea mines off the east coast; the ones left over from World War II. The Department of Defense wasn’t real keen on letting us use their toys, so—”
“You’re stealing them. Charming.”
“It’s kind of my thing. You know, on the team,” says Riley, a little apologetic but mostly dry. Beat. “Can I get down now?”
“No.”
“Are you this cranky all the time, or is it just because you really wish you’d shielded your system with waves of PCI particle bombardment?”
Iron Man scoffs. “That’s completely untenable.”
“It wouldn’t be if you set it to pulse in bursts of 1500 bytes per kilosecond.”
There is a pause. Iron Man says, “What’d you say your name was?”
“I didn’t, but it’s Riley. I’d offer to shake your glove but I’m dangling three feet above the ground.” He stares down at the helmet’s eye slits and wiggles his feet illustratively, suggesting.
Iron Man’s head tilts ever-so-slightly. He says, “You ever consider going to work in the corporate world?”
“No,” says Riley. “You ever consider how unbelievably cool your armor is?”
“Pretty regularly.” Iron Man’s smooth voice almost sounds like he’s smirking.
Re: I stand by none of the "science" represented here
I...I am falling way too easily in love with everything and everyone in Iron Man fandom, not the least because of the bouquet of fantastically written crossovers. OH MY GOD YOU WROTE RILEY POOLE could he possibly be more adorable? A Stark-Poole collaboration would send me out into the stratosphere.
At some point Riley's going to go on a rant about aliens and Tony just merely smirks and says, "C'mon, kid. Let's go on a tour of the DoD servers."
Re: I stand by none of the "science" represented here
Thanks; glad you liked! Personally, I want to see the look on Riley's face when Tony tells him about Fin Fang Foom.
Re: I stand by none of the "science" represented here
<3 <3 <3
ENGINEERING GEEKERY FOR THE WIN.
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Bonus points for "DAMN IT, STEVE."
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I haven't read enough Avengers for this
Steve Rogers and Janet van Dyne exchange a look.
“What do you suppose is in there?” asks Steve.
“I’m not sure I really want to know, Steve,” says Jan, hovering at his shoulder.
The box gives another violent, prolonged rattle.
“Though at this point, I think it’s probably less of a ‘what’ and more of a ‘who.’ ” Beat. “Unless you think that cheetah got left here last night.”
Steve exhales heavily. “I’m afraid it’s just luck that no one has been seriously injured at one of She-Hulk’s parties.”
“You said it,” says Jan. “You want to do the honors, or should I?”
“I’ll do it.” Steve steps forward and raps hard on the side of the box. “You in there! Quiet yourself; you’ll be out soon enough.”
The box stops. “—Steve?”
Steve pauses with his hand on a wooden panel. “…Tony?”
“Yes, Tony; get me out of here, would you?”
“Tony Stark?” asks Jan incredulously, zipping forward to flutter beside Steve’s ear.
“Tony, what are you doing in there?”
“Damn it, Steve, just get me out!”
“Yep,” says Jan. “Tony Stark.”
“Hold on, Tony!” The slat splinters under Steve’s hands.
Within 30 seconds, one side of the box has been reduced to kindling, and Tony Stark is blinking in the morning light.
Steve drops the last chunk of wood and offers Tony a hand; Tony takes it and lets Steve help haul him to his feet.
“You okay?” asks Jan.
“Appreciated. I’m fine,” says Tony curtly, and he heads for the door.
“Tony, why were you in there?” Jan calls after him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Steve frowns, bewildered. “But Tony, who—”
“I really would rather not talk about it!” Tony yells from outside, and he stalks down the hall and out of sight, the very picture of wounded manly pride.
Jan doesn’t quite manage to stifle her giggles before he’s out of earshot.
Re: I haven't read enough Avengers for this
*Grumbles and goes about setting up a new trap.*
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Tony. Rhodey. The installation of the stripper pole in the jet.
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Tony ignores Rhodey and his eyebrows, sorting through the toolbox. “A telescoping support, into the floor. I can repeat myself one more time, if you’d like.”
“Let me get this straight: you’re installing a stripper pole in the jumbo jet.”
“No,” says Tony. “I’m installing a telescoping support for added structural integrity in the jumbo jet.” He’s sitting beside a gaping hole in the floor, the panel pried up, metal covering sitting to one side.
“That’s the excuse you’re giving the Board.”
“I’m hurt and wounded by your skepticism. Hand me that Phillips head.”
Rhodey leans over and slaps the screwdriver into Tony’s outstretched palm. “You’re building a stripper pole.”
“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is a bad thing. The jet’s company property, man, not one of your toys.”
“Actually, I don’t know if you got the memo, Rhodey, but I own the company. So, technically – it is one of my toys.”
Rhodey exhales sharply, his arms folded over his chest. “This is why you called me over here?”
“What, are you gonna start tapping your shiny shoes at me, tough guy? C’mon. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”
“What? Look, I know you live in Tony World, where everybody runs around on Tony Time, but I’ve got work to do, okay? You can’t just go calling me in the middle of the day.”
Tony rolls his eyes easily. “Work, work, work, you’ve always got work. Well, Colonel, I can’t imagine how much work you have, considering that your job is to liaise with me, and I don’t have anything to liaise about.”
“You should,” says Rhodey, and he’s looming. “You promised those air-to-air missile blueprints by today, and the new LIO-16 contract by tomorrow.”
Tony remains unconcerned; he doesn’t even look up from the wiring he’s considering. “The contract is tied up in Legal, something about a typo and an extra couple of decimal places, and the blueprints are almost done. Look, sourpatch, the way I see it is you can either stand around here like Oscar the Grouch without his trashcan for the next ten minutes, figure out I’m not about to pull a set of magical blueprints out of my ass, and stomp back to the office annoyed and unfulfilled, or…”
“Or,” Rhodey repeats, flatly.
“You can sit down, lend me your able assistance, and talk the missile’s propulsion system out with me. Take your pick, and whichever you decide on, can you move just a little bit that way? You’re blocking the best light.”
Rhodes stands his ground. He scoffs; shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I get that a lot.”
Another minute passes, and then Rhodey steps to the right and shrugs off his jacket in one sharp, annoyed move. Tony grins. “Don’t smile at me,” says Rhodey, laying his jacket across the back of the cabin’s sofa and rolling up his sleeves. “I’m not talking to you right now.”
Tony holds up a finger. “Unless it’s about the missile propulsion system.”
“Unless it’s about the missile propulsion system,” Rhodey says, with considerably less blithe good humor, and he crouches down.
Fifteen minutes later, Tony drags a smile out of him.
Fifteen minutes after that, they’re arguing over which flight attendants would make the best use of the new structural integrity support.
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BEST GRADUATION PRESENT EVER.
(I'll come down from the CAPSLOCK!HIGH eventually, I swear.)
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Tony Stark/Kaylee. Because I cannot imagine how it would work, so thus I'm going to ask you to imagine it!
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THEY BOTH TOTALLY HAVE TO SAY "OO, SHINY!" AT THE SAME TIME, TOO!
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My follow-up question, or rather prompt, or rather Alfred, is "101 Things Tony Stark Is Not Allowed To Do, cosigned by Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, and Jarvis. Yes, Tony, The Robot Is Allowed To Boss You Around."
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-- Does the prompt have anything to do with the movie? Because even if it doesn't, OH BABY OH BABY I AM THERE.
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Crack genderswap Tony? *GOES STRAIGHT TO HELL*
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I can't come up with a super hero name, though. 'Iron Maiden' seems obvious. 'Valkyrie' is taken. And 'Titanium Queen' ... well, I can only fathom the abbreviated puns...
I need a Karrde/Wedge fic, just because it would be totally cracktastic.
I think I also need a Pepper/Maya or Pepper/Bethany Movie/Comic crossover fic...
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Extremis reconstructs the way the infected subject's brain controls their body. At first, she uses it to turn a crazy man into a super hero. Then she uses it on Tony to make him regenerate faster and he tweaks it to make himself one with the suit.
In Execute Command, Extremis has evolved to the point where it lets Tony channel satellites and act like a human computer -- and Maya's in prison for the subsequent effects it's had on other people. (It becomes a biological weapon very quickly.)
She's just fun. Snarky. Geeky.
Jack Daniels is her boyfriend. Tony gets jealous. You know. He can't handle the smart ones.
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Also avoiding tagging our post like a loser because I'm being eaten alive by blood and migraines -_-