#heist au

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Animorphs heist?

Okay, look, the reason I've never managed to write this one is that heists are so dependent upon competency kink, and Animorphs is completely defined by how well it depicts kids with no competencies to speak of being forced to fight in a war. Does anyone else know how to square this circle?

[kofikit]

DP x DC: Mission Impossible

One day at family dinner Dick starts a rant about a pretty girl. His type - flaming red hair, tall, smart. It's always that type. The Bats are all stalkers, not just Tim. They may tease and poke fun at the boy who confronted Batman about his ID, but Oracle could tell them everything down to the average amount of time they spent brushing their teeth. And they all knew it. Professionalism and politeness have never been a hangup (or respect given) of any of them. Thus, Dick made an appointment with his new therapist Jasmine Fenton to spend time with her.

... Which utterly backfired on him of course. She completely wrecked his shit and he admits so with a dreamy sigh that makes every other Bat at the table physically cringe. Every single bit of the flirting went swoosh right past her, and she used it to rip open his issues with Kori and Babs like they were held together by Christmas wrapping paper instead of decades of trauma and violence.

After dinner Dick cheerfully slings an arm around Jason, the world blurs, and the next thing his siblings know they've been kidnapped and are waking up in a therapy office, stumbling through the door in a haze as Dick's words of blackmail and manipulation still rang in their ears.

You see, Jasmine didn't believe him about how bad his siblings were themselves. She believed he was dramatizing. Everyone always thought their own perspective was the correct one. Especially those used to acting purely on their own ideas of morality and leveraging authority to support said morals. She knew better than to say she thought he was speaking on bias out loud of course - but Dick was more than well trained in reading micro-expressions, and he knew she didn't believe him.

Dick presents them to her like a cat bringing a live lizard into the kitchen. It's after work hours, she was just about to leave, and now Cass is somehow on top of the fan blades on the ceiling twirling around, Damian is trying to distract her with mutual knife appreciation and it isn't working, Tim is disappearing into a void of the shadows creeping towards the door frame, Stephanie is raiding her secret snack stash and shoving it all in her pockets, and Jason is in a headlock as he and Dick argued.

Then Danny walked in. Sees all this. And they see him.

Jazz, realizing that she would absolutely not be able to continue with Dick as a client after this, turned to him with a smile. "You know how I'm not supposed to talk about clients."

"Ye."

"Baby brother, I found a family worse than ours. This is one of the most hilarious things that's ever happened to me. Call Dan and Ellie. While we wait for them to get here we're all going for late night tacos. Immediately. And then, we're gonna go steal the declaration of independence."

"Cool." Danny replies casually.

It is at this moment Dick realizes he fucked up. "Wait, you're serious."

Yup."

"We're stealing the declaration?"

"YUP."

"... Jazz, I'm in love with you." Dick states melodramatically with a hand over his heart.

"No, you're not. You're in love with Barbara but can't handle your own fantasies of perfection not matching up with a secure relationship with her. You view your parents with crowds cheering for their success as an ideal to live up to, and that's what you have with Kori, while a quiet domestic life with Barbara makes you believe you're letting them down and feels like a failure to their legacy to you."

Tim whispers, "Holy shit she killed him."

Physically incapable of not making death jokes Danny instantly turns and replies, "Not yet, just wait until she has more than ten tacos and a margarita in her."

"This is going to be one of the best days of my life." Tim tells him.

Both of them acquire popcorn and are watching Dick sobbing in the middle of a Chilis like it's a soap opera within half an hour. Tim, as always, is designated camera man that everyone makes eye contact with like they're on The Office while Jazz leads the pack in going feral.

And then everyone has to pretend they are completely average civilians as they literally break into and out of the National Archive Museum in Washington D.C. Not a single one of them knows what the social abilities of average civilians are supposed to be like when breaking into places.

[quarterlifekitty]

A 60s heist AU. Think the original Pink Panther movies. Charade. How to Steal a Million. The 141 as a group of famous jewel thieves, both feared and adored in hushed whispers.

Soap— the safe cracker. Or, in the worst case scenario, a demolitions experts. But they prefer not to let it get that far.

Ghost— the muscle, the security expert. Can take out a handful of guards silently and alone. Knows every security measure in the book, from tripwire to pressure plates to phosphorescent ink spray.

Gaz— The Face. Can charm his way into any occasion, sources the group disguises to fit them in anywhere, coordinates their cover stories in an intricate web.

Nikolai— the getaway. If it’s got an engine, he can drive it, be it plane, boat, or automobile. He’s also their munitions expert, should push come to shove. He’s up to date on the latest fashions in arms and side pieces— he can take one look at someone and tell you what they’ll be packing.

Price— the captain. Plans their ins, outs, and timed triggers down to a T, with an entire alphabet of contingency plans for every situation.

They’re hired by an anonymous source to steal the crown jewel of your father’s collection— a large diamond of international fame with just a touch of pale pink coloring. Well protected, secured— it’s not the kind of mark where they can just break in. No, this requires subtlety.

Your father hosts a gala every year, usually shows off a new piece of arm candy, with only those from the highest rungs of the social ladder in attendance. A gross show of decadence that just makes the boys feel that much better about how they’re going to humiliate him.

But how to get into a party like that? Cozy up to the carefree, socialite daughter, of course.

Soap meets you at a museum— begs to draw your likeness as a part of his studies. Gets to know you, takes your picture in graphite, and makes you feel fluttery.

When it starts to rain on your walk home, Nikolai is there before you can even think of hailing a cab, with his golden chain glittering in his color and aviators glinting in the streetlights. Takes the scenic route back on a cool night, uses his cigarette to light yours when you ask, almost like a kiss.

You dance the night away with Kyle at your favorite nightclub, feeling weightless in his arms as he dips and swings you— makes you both the center attraction of the floor to raucous applause.

Price finds you in a busy cafe, the only free seat being the one across from you at the tiny table by the street. He treats you to another coffee for letting him keep you company, as much as you try to refuse him and insist he think nothing of it. He cups your chin as he feeds you a flakey pastry he assures you is nothing short of divine.

Simon quite easily catches your little dog when she pulls her leash free from your grip in the park, returning the silly white beast into your waiting arms— the only thing he wants in return is to keep walking with you. Just in case Priscilla should escape again, of course.

Little dates every day in the month leading up to the gala, their invites assured and their hearts suddenly a little clouded with doubt— reluctant to steal away into the night with your family’s jewel and never see you again.

But you don’t get far in this business by turning your back on a contract, by giving into every pretty girl that turns your head.

And it should figure that you look stunning. They have their own fitted suits, silken ties, Italian leather shoes— but you glimmer. More examples of your family’s ornate collection drip from you in the form of earrings, necklaces, rings, hair pins. Your laughter rings as you delicately sip from flutes of champagne, eager to weave through the crowd and find them, one by one.

When your father makes the party stop, all to announce his engagement to his newest paramour, the lights cut out. The diamond shucked from the safe, a replica in its place that won’t be identified until it’s too late. They leave one by one— kissing you gently and promising to see you again soon before slinking off.

Little did they know, it would be sooner than they’d realized, as you showed up to the rendezvous a month later, a few countries away, a sly smile inching across your face at their shock.

You had come across your father’s intentions months ago. To change his will, the diamond going to his new wife upon his death instead of you. The treasure of generations, ripped from you to be given to some fly-by-night. Thus, the hired help.

And the 141? They could care less about the diamond, now that they’ve got the real jewel of your family back in their arms.

[dustandhalos]

Hi, I just saw your old post for pre-ordering stalwart sun willy moon

Do you think it's possible to find a copy of it now ?

Thank you

Hi there! I've told many people over the past 2 years or so that if interest ticked up after the release of the finale, a 3rd printing could be a possibility. The finale's out now, so it's as good a time as any to repost the interest check form. I would need to order a minimum of 100 copies from the printer, so it's a tall order--but if you're keen, filling out the form is the best way to let me know!

[macolethings]

Lexa Woods is a smart, calculating woman who has made a name for herself in the tech world after inventing a way to track hackers and starting her own cybersecurity firm. Ironically, she is also known as Heda in the illicit trade market as a notorious thief and vigilante, focusing on stealing technology and intel that can topple corrupt governments, overthrow horrible leaders, influence politics, and save the lives of people she feels deserves it.

Clarke is a sarcastic and witty artist that has also made a name for herself as the head curator at a well-known, prestigious art museum, traveling the world to acquire rare pieces to display to the public. She is also a well-known vigilante counterfeiter on the bootlegging market, duplicating expensive, rare art that has been looted or plundered, and swapping it out for the original to be returned to its rightful owner.

Lexa and Clarke have been happily married for a couple years, none the wiser to their wife’s second job, until Lexa accepts an odd heist at Clarke’s museum that goes terribly wrong. Now, both of their lives are in danger and secrets are forced to come to light as they work together to figure out why a painting is worth killing for.

(It’s Mr. and Mrs. Smith WIP with a twist! Hoping to start posting sometime this summer.)

@clexaweekofficial

[spiderbeam]

LN4, the getaway driver

getaway car! ⦙ ft. art thief!reader ━━━ one-shot, long fic , enemies to lovers-ish , partners in crime (literally)

moodboard

AA23, the hacker

moodboard

CS55, the muscle

boxer!carlos ⦙ ft. bartender!reader ━━━ drabble , lowkey suggestive , tension and flirting

moodboard

MV1, the mastermind

moodboard

CL16, the lockpick

n/a.

bonus!

OB87, the florist

flower shop!ollie ⦙ ft. con artist!reader ━━━ ramble , meet cute (but not actually) , origin story

police files , theory board , newspaper clippings

[art-the-f-up]

"Felonies and Other Love Languages" by @miabrown007

aka "how many stars can we incorporate into the entire vibe of this heist au fic"

[stupidtrashpanda]

my mauraders merch: