Comment_fic round-up
Apr. 13th, 2010 07:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfiona99Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic, of variable length and fandom.
Prompt = Iron Man movieverse, Tony/Jarvis, perverse algorithms.
Rating ~ 12
This had to be the worst thing Pepper had ever caught him doing. He had no idea how he was going to live this one down, Pepper was going to be teasing him about perverse programming for months.
The idea had come to him on the right/wrong side of a lot of whiskey. He was having a very interesting discussion with a model about the lack of user interactivity in sex toys. For some reason, that stayed with him, far more than the girl did. All he remembered about her was the result of the 'find the mole' game.
He started working hard on the project, mostly because it was a challenge. He knew he was supposed to be working on the latest weaponry for Stark Industries but that was boring, he just needed to find out what was selling well and make it more efficient. But this was something different and difficult, even though, in Jarvis, he had the perfect starting software. He already had a touch interface, independent of any hardware and there was already something that resembled a personality. He remembered the one of whatshername's complaints was that dildos seemed so impersonal.
Of course, he was having to use himself as the test subject. No only because you couldn't market a thing without testing and the technology wasn't far enough along to bring anyone else in. Also, it was a strangely personal thing, everything had been designed to thrill him. This would have to be changed for a full release, either the software would have to be made much more simple so that it worked for a wider audience, or the interface would have to become easier to adapt, not everyone had time for hours of programming at a time.
~~~~
He'd still been sleeping it off when Pepper came downstairs to check on him, because he hadn't showed up for some meeting or other. He'd tried to say that it wasn't what it looked like, but didn't have a reply ready for when she asked what it was. His joke about thermometers hadn't worked either, nor had any of his other attempts to distract her.
Still the technology worked.
~~~~
End
Prompt = The Mentalist, Van Pelt/Rigsby, Undercover in an S/M club.
Rating ~ 12 Contains significantly less sex, death and violence than the show itself.
There was a serial killer attacking couples that visited S&M clubs in Livermore, and this was the only club where no one had been attacked. So far. The killer always picked on girl/guy couples, which narrowed down who they could send in.
Lisbon excused herself from going undercover, Jane was too well-known, so Rigsby and Cho had to draw straws for who got to be the guy. Rigsby lost, and he's sure it's all Jane's fault and that he tricked him somehow. He's not sure how, but he knows it was done.
He volunteers to go in as the underdressed masochist in this couple, reasoning that Van Pelt would be uncomfortable enough already without have to wear very little. Instead, he's the one in a mesh muscle t-shirt and pleather trousers. The trousers feel awkward on and he's feels a blush coming on because he knows people can see his nipples. And she's standing right next to him.
She looks wonderful.
It's unbearable.
He's a grown man, and he knows he should be coping better than this, especially as this club is too classy to have people actually having sex out in the open, but the atmosphere is full with people who want to have sex, and it's very seductive. He's supposed to be concentrating on the job and all he can think about is wanting to have sex with Van Pelt.
Jane cracking wise at the table means he can't. Because if they did, everyone else would know. Not that they probably wouldn't have guessed anyway, but he at least tried to be discreet. Jane had also left him a lot to live up to.
He wants to try living up to it, though, he wants to see if Van Pelt's legs are as flexible as he thinks they are, and well, his imagination hasn't caught up with his libido yet, and he mostly just wants to have lots and lots of sex.
Rigsby was very relieved when the serial killer finally decided to approach them. It was much safer than standing next to Van Pelt while thinking all of this, and having a terrible feeling that Jane, on the other end of the wire, knew exactly what he was thinking.
Prompt = Doctor Who, Donna Noble, "Our children will sing of the Doctor-Donna, and our children's children, and the wind and the ice and the snow will carry your names forever."
G rated gen.
***
It was nearly Christmas again when it started, a sort of ringing in her ears. She'd think it was tinitus, except she'd not been out clubbing in ages, not since Aisha's birthday and that had been in June. Well she thought it had been June, but her memory got a bit foggy about the last year. The GP had assured her that there was nothing wrong, and she could remember everything else fine.
Still, she'd gone back for a check-up just in case. She'd no idea what kind of thing could cause memory loss and ringing ears but it couldn't have been anything good.
The doctor gave her the all clear again, and so had the hearing test at Boots when she'd gone their for a second opinion.
The ringing only got worse the colder and windier it got, and what with the storms hitting Britain at the minute, that meant it was pretty bad.
Or constant rather because, once you got used to it being there, it was quite a pleasant sound, a ringing tune almost, better than the rubbish in the charts anyway. There was something comforting to it, like it was trying to make up for something that Donna didn't even know she missed.
She was just going to have to get used to it.
Prompt = The Fast and the Furious, Girl!Brian/Letty, grease
Rating ~ 12
Briony started to think she may have been the wrong choice for this operation.
She knew why she'd been chosen. She knew her way round cars and her juvie run-ins over racing proved she could handle herself, as did her 100% score in the advanced driver training.
The idea was to get close to Dominic Toretto, by any means necessary, and find evidence to link him to the hijackings. At worst, sending her in as a honey trap might disrupt the smooth working of whatever gang he was with.
What she'd found out was that she could probably give Toretto a topless lap dance and he'd still be able to drive properly, and that his gang was everyone, except his sister, at the garage. They'd never stop, not because they needed the money, but because they wanted it. The money went on engines and parts, because all the talent in the world wouldn't help you keep up with Johnny Tran if he had a booster and you didn't.
Of course, the other problem was that Toretto was just not interested. He liked having Briony about, an extra set of wheels and everything, but that was as far as it went.
And then there was Letty.
Not even Briony's best attempts at flirting with Dom were having any effect on her. Letty was more amused than anything, and just carried on working at the cars. She'd come up from the bonnet or out from under the car, covered in grease and, if Briony was there, it felt like the world was dropping out from under her.
She knew she was a trap for Toretto, and she really hadn't minded the idea of that when she'd got the assignment, because who didn't like a guy who was good with his hands, but Letty was something else.
Right now she was coming up out of the bonnet of her car and asking for a different wrench.
Briony picked it up from the rack and handed it over, mesmerised. There was a swatch of Letty's hair hanging over her face and Briony just itched to move it out of the way and kiss her.
"What you looking at?"
Briony gabbled something about nothing.
"I've seen you looking at me, you know, and I'm not that stupid. You could just have asked." Letty kissed her.
"But you and Dom,"
"Me and Dom are our business. Me and you, we're our business." Letty kissed Briony again, soft and slow and long. She grabbed Briony by the waistband and pulled her closer. "So, let's say me and you go have some fun, and I'll finish this later."
Prompt = BtVS, Dawn, kicking ass runs in the Summers family.
G rated gen.
She's standing alone, waiting for the bus, when she's attacked.
This kind of thing is one of the reasons Dawn hates research jobs. She gets sent out to the middle of nowhere to go find either rare books or check out demon sightings. Apparently being a part-time trainee Watcher is all about doing the jobs that even Giles doesn't want to do.
The people who attack her, and this clown is only the latest in a long line, seem to think she's easy pickings. This also annoys her. She'd like to believe that at almost twenty-two she's stopped looking damn vulnerable. For crying out loud, she'll have a degree by this time next year, she cannot be bothered by this.
This one, she thinks as she disarms him, would probably have attacked anyone standing alone there, anyone he thought was weaker than he was. She doesn't feel guilty when she hears his wrist break.
She feels slightly worse about the fact that she's probably shattered his elbow too, she firmly doesn't believe in vigilantism, but she thinks she could probably cover this with reasonable force. Plus he did have a knife, or at least he started with one.
She called 911 when the bus pulled up, proping him up half-heartedly on the seat in the bus shelter. The police shouldn't be able to identify her, there weren't any cameras around, not obvious ones, or he wouldn't have attacked, and even if they did, they'd never believe it was her. The cute, sweet and harmless look had to come in handy for something after all.
Still, she'd be able to report back to Giles that she had the book he'd wanted and that the self-defence lessons seemed to be working.
comment_fic, of variable length and fandom.Prompt = Iron Man movieverse, Tony/Jarvis, perverse algorithms.
Rating ~ 12
This had to be the worst thing Pepper had ever caught him doing. He had no idea how he was going to live this one down, Pepper was going to be teasing him about perverse programming for months.
The idea had come to him on the right/wrong side of a lot of whiskey. He was having a very interesting discussion with a model about the lack of user interactivity in sex toys. For some reason, that stayed with him, far more than the girl did. All he remembered about her was the result of the 'find the mole' game.
He started working hard on the project, mostly because it was a challenge. He knew he was supposed to be working on the latest weaponry for Stark Industries but that was boring, he just needed to find out what was selling well and make it more efficient. But this was something different and difficult, even though, in Jarvis, he had the perfect starting software. He already had a touch interface, independent of any hardware and there was already something that resembled a personality. He remembered the one of whatshername's complaints was that dildos seemed so impersonal.
Of course, he was having to use himself as the test subject. No only because you couldn't market a thing without testing and the technology wasn't far enough along to bring anyone else in. Also, it was a strangely personal thing, everything had been designed to thrill him. This would have to be changed for a full release, either the software would have to be made much more simple so that it worked for a wider audience, or the interface would have to become easier to adapt, not everyone had time for hours of programming at a time.
~~~~
He'd still been sleeping it off when Pepper came downstairs to check on him, because he hadn't showed up for some meeting or other. He'd tried to say that it wasn't what it looked like, but didn't have a reply ready for when she asked what it was. His joke about thermometers hadn't worked either, nor had any of his other attempts to distract her.
Still the technology worked.
~~~~
End
Prompt = The Mentalist, Van Pelt/Rigsby, Undercover in an S/M club.
Rating ~ 12 Contains significantly less sex, death and violence than the show itself.
There was a serial killer attacking couples that visited S&M clubs in Livermore, and this was the only club where no one had been attacked. So far. The killer always picked on girl/guy couples, which narrowed down who they could send in.
Lisbon excused herself from going undercover, Jane was too well-known, so Rigsby and Cho had to draw straws for who got to be the guy. Rigsby lost, and he's sure it's all Jane's fault and that he tricked him somehow. He's not sure how, but he knows it was done.
He volunteers to go in as the underdressed masochist in this couple, reasoning that Van Pelt would be uncomfortable enough already without have to wear very little. Instead, he's the one in a mesh muscle t-shirt and pleather trousers. The trousers feel awkward on and he's feels a blush coming on because he knows people can see his nipples. And she's standing right next to him.
She looks wonderful.
It's unbearable.
He's a grown man, and he knows he should be coping better than this, especially as this club is too classy to have people actually having sex out in the open, but the atmosphere is full with people who want to have sex, and it's very seductive. He's supposed to be concentrating on the job and all he can think about is wanting to have sex with Van Pelt.
Jane cracking wise at the table means he can't. Because if they did, everyone else would know. Not that they probably wouldn't have guessed anyway, but he at least tried to be discreet. Jane had also left him a lot to live up to.
He wants to try living up to it, though, he wants to see if Van Pelt's legs are as flexible as he thinks they are, and well, his imagination hasn't caught up with his libido yet, and he mostly just wants to have lots and lots of sex.
Rigsby was very relieved when the serial killer finally decided to approach them. It was much safer than standing next to Van Pelt while thinking all of this, and having a terrible feeling that Jane, on the other end of the wire, knew exactly what he was thinking.
Prompt = Doctor Who, Donna Noble, "Our children will sing of the Doctor-Donna, and our children's children, and the wind and the ice and the snow will carry your names forever."
G rated gen.
***
It was nearly Christmas again when it started, a sort of ringing in her ears. She'd think it was tinitus, except she'd not been out clubbing in ages, not since Aisha's birthday and that had been in June. Well she thought it had been June, but her memory got a bit foggy about the last year. The GP had assured her that there was nothing wrong, and she could remember everything else fine.
Still, she'd gone back for a check-up just in case. She'd no idea what kind of thing could cause memory loss and ringing ears but it couldn't have been anything good.
The doctor gave her the all clear again, and so had the hearing test at Boots when she'd gone their for a second opinion.
The ringing only got worse the colder and windier it got, and what with the storms hitting Britain at the minute, that meant it was pretty bad.
Or constant rather because, once you got used to it being there, it was quite a pleasant sound, a ringing tune almost, better than the rubbish in the charts anyway. There was something comforting to it, like it was trying to make up for something that Donna didn't even know she missed.
She was just going to have to get used to it.
Prompt = The Fast and the Furious, Girl!Brian/Letty, grease
Rating ~ 12
Briony started to think she may have been the wrong choice for this operation.
She knew why she'd been chosen. She knew her way round cars and her juvie run-ins over racing proved she could handle herself, as did her 100% score in the advanced driver training.
The idea was to get close to Dominic Toretto, by any means necessary, and find evidence to link him to the hijackings. At worst, sending her in as a honey trap might disrupt the smooth working of whatever gang he was with.
What she'd found out was that she could probably give Toretto a topless lap dance and he'd still be able to drive properly, and that his gang was everyone, except his sister, at the garage. They'd never stop, not because they needed the money, but because they wanted it. The money went on engines and parts, because all the talent in the world wouldn't help you keep up with Johnny Tran if he had a booster and you didn't.
Of course, the other problem was that Toretto was just not interested. He liked having Briony about, an extra set of wheels and everything, but that was as far as it went.
And then there was Letty.
Not even Briony's best attempts at flirting with Dom were having any effect on her. Letty was more amused than anything, and just carried on working at the cars. She'd come up from the bonnet or out from under the car, covered in grease and, if Briony was there, it felt like the world was dropping out from under her.
She knew she was a trap for Toretto, and she really hadn't minded the idea of that when she'd got the assignment, because who didn't like a guy who was good with his hands, but Letty was something else.
Right now she was coming up out of the bonnet of her car and asking for a different wrench.
Briony picked it up from the rack and handed it over, mesmerised. There was a swatch of Letty's hair hanging over her face and Briony just itched to move it out of the way and kiss her.
"What you looking at?"
Briony gabbled something about nothing.
"I've seen you looking at me, you know, and I'm not that stupid. You could just have asked." Letty kissed her.
"But you and Dom,"
"Me and Dom are our business. Me and you, we're our business." Letty kissed Briony again, soft and slow and long. She grabbed Briony by the waistband and pulled her closer. "So, let's say me and you go have some fun, and I'll finish this later."
Prompt = BtVS, Dawn, kicking ass runs in the Summers family.
G rated gen.
She's standing alone, waiting for the bus, when she's attacked.
This kind of thing is one of the reasons Dawn hates research jobs. She gets sent out to the middle of nowhere to go find either rare books or check out demon sightings. Apparently being a part-time trainee Watcher is all about doing the jobs that even Giles doesn't want to do.
The people who attack her, and this clown is only the latest in a long line, seem to think she's easy pickings. This also annoys her. She'd like to believe that at almost twenty-two she's stopped looking damn vulnerable. For crying out loud, she'll have a degree by this time next year, she cannot be bothered by this.
This one, she thinks as she disarms him, would probably have attacked anyone standing alone there, anyone he thought was weaker than he was. She doesn't feel guilty when she hears his wrist break.
She feels slightly worse about the fact that she's probably shattered his elbow too, she firmly doesn't believe in vigilantism, but she thinks she could probably cover this with reasonable force. Plus he did have a knife, or at least he started with one.
She called 911 when the bus pulled up, proping him up half-heartedly on the seat in the bus shelter. The police shouldn't be able to identify her, there weren't any cameras around, not obvious ones, or he wouldn't have attacked, and even if they did, they'd never believe it was her. The cute, sweet and harmless look had to come in handy for something after all.
Still, she'd be able to report back to Giles that she had the book he'd wanted and that the self-defence lessons seemed to be working.
