Tuesday - Clothes

[myfloralbonnet.livejournal.com]

Hi. This is myfloralbonnet again, and today's theme is Clothes.

Your prompts can be centered around anything from someone's favorite piece of clothes to someone wearing nothing but their socks. Feel free to go as creative with your prompts as you want!

The usual rules apply -

+ No more than three prompts per fandom.
+ No more than five prompts at a time (though after you get one or more of your prompts filled, you are free to leave more).
+ No spoilers in your prompts until a week after air date or publication.
+ Warn for spoilers in your fic in bold and with at least three spaces above your fic.

Please be thoughtful of the codemonkeys and use the following format for your prompts:

Avatar: The Last Airbender, Mai, hiding things in her sleeves
Sanctuary, Ashley/Henry, t-shirt
Sanctuary, Kate/Will, laundry day is hell

If none of today's prompts catch your eye, please explore our Lonely Prompts.

theme="Clothes"

Comments

[myfloralbonnet.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary, Kate/Will, laundry day is hell

[freestyle-one.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary, any and all, "Question! Who's wearing my underwear?"

[myfloralbonnet.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary, Ashley/Henry, t-shirt

[jokers-daughter.livejournal.com]

DCU, Tim Drake, does the suit make the hero, or is it something else?

[dergerm.livejournal.com]

Psych, Shawn/Lassiter, a wolf in sheeps wool

[dergerm.livejournal.com]

Kickass, Dave Lizewski (aka Kickass), wearing the suit under his clothes has an unforeseen side effect

Fart + Sh*t = Shart, when you try to fart but accidentally shit yourself

[itcomesinphases.livejournal.com]

In hindsight, I know exactly what I did wrong: I never should have gone to Jose's All You Can Eat Mexican Buffet. I really shouldn't have eaten that pile of tamales. I really should have taken a dump before leaving the house.

Because sharting yourself in public is embarrassing. Sharting yourself in a diving suit is embarrassing and ridiculously uncomfortable and impossible to clean up with public restroom toilet paper that flakes off in your fingers like cotton candy.

I learned a valuable lesson that day: Wet Ones are a superhero's best friend.

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel + Sam/Gabriel, they confront a creature that destroys all cotton on contact

The Problem (1/2)

[tfwftw.livejournal.com]

More the aftermath of the attack, and probably less porny (and more cracky) than you were hoping for, but - enjoy?

_____________________________

Gabriel was wearing jeans and a T-shirt - and cotton underwear, if he was wearing any at all - so he's currently naked except for a pair of rugged leather hiking boots. Sam's pretty sure Gabriel could, at the very least, manage some fresh clothes for himself, but Gabriel's very... if Sam remembers his frosh week orientation correctly, the term is "body confident."

But this thing between Sam and Gabriel would never have gotten as far as it has if Sam weren't rapidly developing the ability to ignore Gabriel when the situation calls for it; Dean, after the obligatory exaggerated shudder of horror, just turned his back and took point to lead their little group back down the trail out of the woods to civilization; and Castiel seems oblivious to the naked archangel. So Gabriel, surprisingly, is not the problem.

Sam fared no better than Gabriel. It's warm enough that he'd skipped the flannel in favour of a couple layers of cotton, and he's paying for it now. He'd be as naked as his angel sort-of-boyfriend if it weren't for the fact that, apparently, nothing Castiel is wearing is made of natural fibers. (A fact which had horrified Dean - "Seriously? Dude, that's just messed up."
"I did not select these clothes, Dean."
"Fine, then we're taking you shopping for new clothes."
"Cotton clothes?"
"Shut up.")

Castiel has gallantly given Sam his trenchcoat, since, as Sam made a point of saying to Gabriel, Castiel is the nice angel. The coat is sort of ridiculously small on Sam, but he's managed to get it on and arranged well enough that his modesty is more or less preserved. He feels like a flasher, but he's not actually flashing anyone, so Sam isn't the problem either.

Dean, the lucky bastard, was wearing his leather jacket; now he's wearing nothing but that and his boots. The jacket is just long enough to keep him decent, given that the path is smooth and level and doesn't, thank God, involve any bending or climbing. Sam doesn't exactly love the look, but it's not going to scar him for life. So Dean isn't the problem either.

Castiel is the only one of them fully clothed - although actually, the fact that he's given Sam his coat means that he's the most undressed Sam has ever seen him. Still, he's got a suit jacket, white shirt, suit pants, tie, even his socks - what the hell those are made of, Sam doesn't even want to imagine. And yet, somehow, it's Castiel who's the problem.

[dergerm.livejournal.com]

BtVS, Xander, A boy in man's clothes

Hero/Liar

[clachnaben]

Alexander Harris has big square shoulders that fill his shirts well. He cuts a fine figure in a suit. He wears battle clothes like he was born to a life of violence. The boy cleans up well.
He's also a liar. He's a good one too. He saved the world by just talking once. But he lies the best, does his best work, by not talking at all.
He lies about being a commander, about being suited to a military life. He lies about not missing Anya. He lies about not being tired, not being old, about crappy depth perception. He lies about missing Willow. Oh god, he misses Willow so much.
So when he stands at the head of the Watcher's council and he squares those big shoulders and he's a honourable, courageous hero, he's lying. He's lying with his body and his soul. He's lying with everything he is because he's standing there as Alexander Harris, a man. But really, he's just scared little Xander who misses his best friend. He's just scared little Xander who'd do any terrible, under-handed thing if it'd give him Willow.
He's scared and tired and he's getting old. But he's a little boy inside.
Alexander Harris is a real hero. Inside, he's terrified. But on the onside, he's getting a job done.

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Gabriel + Dean/Castiel + any, strip poker is completely unfair for the humans

[jokers-daughter.livejournal.com]

DCU, Dick & Damian, teaching Damian how to do laundry

[sycophantastic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, "Cas... tell me you're not wearing khaki capris..."

[dergerm.livejournal.com]

Psych, Shawn, He'd always wondered how someone went about getting a job as a roadside pizza place mascot. Now he knew.

[soldierly.livejournal.com]

CWRPS, Jensen/Jared, sharing clothes to show they belong to one another

not fic--

[measuringlife.livejournal.com]

practically canon prompt is practically canon <3

[enmuse.livejournal.com]

Gargoyles, Maza family & Any, The family explains where Elisa's ever-present jacket came from

[soldierly.livejournal.com]

RPS, Christian Kane/Jensen, the clothes make the man

[dergerm.livejournal.com]

Psych, Shawn/Lassiter, Lassiter in nothing but his gun holster

[enmuse.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds, PRE-Hotch/Reid, Hotch is confused when Reid shows up wearing one of his ties. (Or anything inspired by this exchange (http://enmuse.livejournal.com/55604.html) on Twitter.)

[alexiel-neesan.livejournal.com]

DCU, Jason/Tim, ripped leather jacket

[phoenixofborg.livejournal.com]

DCU, Lian Harper, The Kevlar is to keep her dad from worrying and the fishnets are to piss him off.

Older Now, PG

[sailorlibra.livejournal.com]

I'm not the foremost expert on the Arrow Family, but hopefully this will do. It's set in a future where something bad happened to Roy when Lian was seven or so, and decided that he absolutely did not want her to become a superhero. Of course, others disagreed. Unbetaed, obviously.

Her dad never thought that she would grow up to be like him. She didn't know why he'd thought that--the product of a superhero and a supervillain could hardly be expected to be normal--but he had. Or acted like it, anyway. At least until she finally broke out the costume.

She had learned how to shoot really well a while ago. Not from her father, but from Uncle Ollie. Daddy hadn't particularly liked it, but he would persist in going off on long superheroic trips and Uncle Ollie would persist in teaching her while he was assigned to babysitting duty. She sometimes thought he was the only person in the world more stubborn than her dad.

She had liked it a lot. The thrill of succeeding, of finally managing to hit the target was exhilarating. Uncle Ollie was the best teacher, much better than Daddy had been. Back when he used to teach her himself. Before the things he refused to talk about had happened. She didn't think he was as good a shot as her dad, however, but that was only because no one was.

Aunt Dinah had helped her with the rest. She was no strange to having a superhero parent and knew all the right ways to get around Daddy's restrictions. She offered to help Lian choose a costume, but she'd declined. She'd been planning her costume for years. It would be perfect.

The first time she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt a rush of pride. This was real. She was official. Now all she had to do was tell Daddy. Hardest part last.

He hadn't taken it well, though he must have guessed it had been coming. "No. I absolutely forbid this. Absolutely. This is all Ollie's fault, I know it. Stupid, old, arrogant fool--I should have left you with Dinah instead--"

She wore a quiver in honor of Uncle Ollie. He wasn't the best uncle, but he cared about her. He'd given her a dream to realize in her life, after she'd thought it taken away.

"No, not, Dinah, she's probably as responsible for this as Ollie is! She was a teenager when she became a superhero, too, against her mother's objections--of course she would help you--"

She wore black in honor of Aunt Dinah, who was the best aunt. She had always been there, always supported her. Always been strong.

"And--are those fishnets?" Dad exclaimed. "Oh, no. There is no way you're fighting crime in fishnets, no matter what your Aunt Dinah does--"

Aunt Dinah did wear fishnets, but that wasn't why Lian wore hers. She wore them to piss Daddy off. There was only so long he'd protest her becoming a superhero--he'd seen this coming a mile off, no matter how shocked he acted. She could see his anger already beginning to cool down. But the fishnets? The fishnets were fuel forever.

"Well, at least, you're wearing Kevlar. That's better than I'd hoped." He sighed, brushing a hand across his eyes. "Just tell me you'll be cautious, okay?" He smiled weakly at her.

"Of course I will, Daddy," she smiled and turned around. She wore the Kevlar in honor of him. After all, there was no sense giving him a heart attack just yet.

[sheryden.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Nate/Eliot, Nate has a kink for a man in boots and jeans

argh, a little too long for one comment...

[katiekins22.livejournal.com]

((I swear I get to covering the actual prompt in the second half))

“But it’s a lovely suit, and you wear it… so well,” Sophie was arguing as Nate followed her through the door into his former apartment, thinking maybe Hardison and Parker had had the right idea to stay down at the bar.

Eliot paused in the middle of the office area, yanking at his lavendar silk tie and glaring at Sophie. “It’s god damn wool and it itches, and this damn shirt is stranglin’ me!” he growled, finally managing to work the tight Windsor knot loose enough to drag the tie off over his head, pulling out his hair tie in the process.

Sophie pouted at Eliot, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s cashmere, Eliot, cashmere - ”

“It came from a fuckin’ sheep, Sophie!”

“Goat, actually,” Nate interjected mildly. Both of them turned to look at him blankly for a moment. He shrugged, and smiled blandly. “Cashmere wool comes from Cashmere goats.”

“…well, yes,” Sophie acknowledged slowly.

“Sheep, goats, whatever! I ain’t wearin’ it one more second,” Eliot declared, shrugging out of the exquisitely tailored jacket and flinging it carelessly in the general direction of the table. Sophie made a small, wounded noise and Nate patted her consolingly on the shoulder while Eliot smirked triumphantly and went to work on his shirt buttons.

“Eliot,” Sophie protested, almost but not quite whining, “you really do clean up so nicely, and it’s a lovely suit, you don’t have to be quite so quick to… remove…” Sophie paused, eyebrows lifting thoughtfully as Eliot flung the shirt after the jacket.

“Actually, if it makes you more comfortable, you go right ahead and take it off,” Sophie murmured distractedly, eyes glued to Eliot’s bare chest. Nate rolled his eyes.

Eliot growled and glared at Sophie for a moment before turning and stomping loudly up the stairs to the area of the apartment that still (sort of) belonged to Nate. Nate didn’t think the Italian leather dress shoes gave quite the effect Eliot was going for, even on the metal stairs. Sophie watched him until he disappeared, perhaps hoping he’d drop his pants on the way up as well, then gave a little sigh and retrieved the jacket from the floor, shaking it out and folding it carefully over a chair, idly stroking the fabric.

“It is a shame,” she murmured, with a wicked little grin at Nate. “That man can wear a suit. But he’s not hard on the eyes without one, either.”

“Hmm,” Nate murmured noncommittally, moving into the kitchen area to pour himself a drink while Sophie continued petting Eliot’s discarded jacket. Eliot did look good in a suit, but that was just Eliot. If he needed to, he could look good in pretty much anything.

Except drag, but that was a memory they both pretended had been lost to too much, or rather just enough, whiskey. Nate shuddered and took a hearty swallow. He needed to get that image out of his mind.

[alexiel-neesan.livejournal.com]

DCU, Tim Drake, his clothes don't hide enough

short but...

[munnin-odanin.livejournal.com]

Tim stared at himself in the mirror, turning up the collar of his jacket. His stage clothes weren’t going to cover this and Steph’s concealer was useless stuff that would run off all over his black shirt.

He sighed and accepted it – he was going to have to play in front of a packed house with Dick and Jason’s hickies all over his throat. He reached over and grabbed Terry. Tonight. he promised himself, Tonight he’d get them back. Tonight he’d make them beg before he let them near him.

[phoenixofborg.livejournal.com]

DCU, Jason Todd (any pairings), he hates close spaces because they remind him of his coffin, putting on the helmet is a little bit of masochism.

Short! Hope it's ok!

[the-protagonist.livejournal.com]

He remembered that he couldn't see anything at all, but he still remembers the smell. The smell of the moldy hubris, the acid, the nitrogen of the soil that leaked through the mahogany wood of the coffin, the silk liner doing nothing to filter out the air.

His first breaths had been rough, his dry lungs harshly filling with oxygen, diaphragm pressing out and down on bones that groaned and shifted for the first time in what felt like forever.

Pain and fear and blood pumped through static veins.

He remembered hearing a crunch. And that was either the sound of his hand going through the casket; the bones in his hand shattering; the splintering of the wood. And then wet, dark thick dirt fell on his face, his eyes, still unseeing.

And something was _loud_... something, in his ears just. Oh, just _pounding_. It was torturous. And he just wanted it to stop.

He hadn't realized it was his heart until he was sitting against the marble head stone. The rain pooling in his bruised and battered hand. It was all just... so loud. Too loud. Listening to the rhythmic pound... it made his stomach turn.

And sometimes, even now, when he put on his helmet, for just the first few second when he hears the ocean-echoed sounds of the blood rushing through his veins coming from the shells of his ears and he feels more than hears the thud of his most essential organ and it burns and hurts and stresses...

"O. to J-Bird. Take the I-65, I cleared the express lane. No detours this time or I'm sicking the Little Bird on you."

"J to O. I like when you do that, so I need better incentive. J-Bird, out."

Now there are voices with his heartbeat, so he thinks it's not so bad.

[enmuse.livejournal.com]

Fringe, Gene (the Cow) & Any, Walter decided Gene needed something to show her "team spirit"

[sheryden.livejournal.com]

SGA, Lorne/any, Lorne always got cranky when he had to dress like a villager for a mission

[enmuse.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, Short skirt & a long jacket