Monday / Little Black Dress

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

Greetings, Earthlings! Today is Monday. I’m sharpiesgal and I’ll be your lovely host for this week.

My first theme will be Little Black Dress (everybody has that one particular article of clothing that is their go to piece for any ensemble). Prompts should have some relation to clothing or accessories.

The rules are as follows:

1. No more than five prompts in a row.
2. No more than three prompts in a fandom.
3. Use the character's full name and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
4. If your prompt or fill contains anything that can be a trigger for the reader, please add a warning for that to give the reader the chance to decide if they want to read or not.
5. No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing. Use the spoiler cut option found here.
6. If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above mentioned spoiler cut.

Prompts should be formatted as follows:
Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the juices flowing:
MCU, Clint/Bruce, well worn purple shirt
Burn Notice, Michael/Fiona, every well dressed spy had a back up pair of sunglasses
Captain America, Steve Rogers, his shield was a prop before it became a weapon

We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2015 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.


tag=Little Black Dress

Comments

[fresh-brainss.livejournal.com]

Agent Carter, Daniel/Peggy, he loves her red hat

[fresh-brainss.livejournal.com]

Parks and Recreation, Ben/Leslie, roller skates

[fresh-brainss.livejournal.com]

Guardians of the Galaxy, Gamora/Nebula, Gamora has always liked Nebula best in purple

[iceybreath.livejournal.com]

Pokemon, Archie/Maxie, speedo

FILL: Make a Move [Pokemon: ORAS, Archie/Maxie, PG-13]

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

"It was your fault," Maxie says afterwards, when they're both catching their breath.

"My fault," he repeats slightly incredulously, and forces himself up on his elbows with some effort. In the afterglow, the warm ache of his muscles against the cold tiles of the floor, everything looks a lot hazier than it normally does, "may I ask how exactly it was my fault?"

"You know very well what you were doing, Archie," Maxie replies, somewhat pertly. The whole effect is somewhat ruined by the obvious fact that he's in the afterglow too, sprawled back on the floor like he can't quite find the energy to get up, but at least he tries, "you couldn't expect me to resist that."

"To resist what?" He asks, still incredulous. And, possibly, a bit annoyed. It's impossible to appreciate the man, when he's like this - all tempting nudity is overwhelmed by his damn mouth, "me swimming? Or me clambering up out of the pool? Or-?"

"That last one," impossible to appreciate the man, when he's raising his head for a somewhat less than intimidating glare. Honestly, he doesn't know why he puts up with it, "you clambering up out of the pool, in only a speedo, with the water just dripping off you."

...Ah.

"You know what your abs do to me, Archie!"

That's why.

"You-!"

It costs him, of course it costs him, but he yawns casually - stretches his arms right up over his head and goes for it. A flex of his entire body, a showing of muscle that makes Archie's grumpy little eyes bulge.

"...You bastard," he manages eventually, in a choked-off voice that he can't help but smirk at, "get back here now."

And, despite the ache in his muscles and the song in his heart, he's happy to oblige.

[scribblemyname]

Any Renner fandom, any Renner character, an inside out grey t-shirt is not a uniform

Rough Morning. Clint/Coulson

[lasairfhiona.livejournal.com]

Clint stumbled into Coulson's office and pretty much threw himself down on the sofa.

“Barton. What do you think you are doing.”

“Reporting to work as requested, sir.”

“And did I not tell you to be in uniform. You are on the gun range with the probationary agents in less than an hour.”

“I am in uniform,” Clint protested waving his hand over his black cargo pants and grey shirt.

“Barton. You look like something Natasha dragged through the brush and an inside out shirt does not make a uniform, even if it is a regulation SHIELD shirt.”

“It's inside out?” Clint questioned sitting up and really looking at his shirt. “Fuck me, it is,” he exclaimed and tugged it off and put it back on right side out. “Better?”

“Much. Now go get some coffee. Do something with your bed head and get down to the range before your student arrive and act like a proper instructor for once.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint said as he stood up and walked around Coulson's desk. Dropping a quick kiss on his lover's head before giving him a jaunty salute and heading out the door. Smiling as he heard Coulson muttering behind him.

[scribblemyname]

X-Men any 'verse, Jean Grey, how many red shirts does she have?

[healyg.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, Clothes don't always make the man.

Fill, Part 1 - Star Trek AOS [NC-17]

[peppermint-wow.livejournal.com]

Star Trek AOS - Kirk/McCoy

Summary: Academy Era. Drunk sex sometimes leaves a little to be desired, but fortunately there's always round two. NSFW.


---

They collapsed onto the couch, Leonard sprawled over the cushions, Jim seated in his lap. The stench of alcohol oozed from their skin, stuck to their clothes, clung to their breath. Leonard could taste it on Jim's tongue, felt how it made Jim's fingers clumsy, his own hands sluggish and uncoordinated. Their bodies moved frantically together, hips bumping on every other thrust.

Light from the nearby street lamps filtered into the room through the small window above their heads. Shadows jumped and floated across the walls as a car passed by.

"Mmph, fuck," Jim grunted, tipped his head back and leaned forward, pressed his throat against Leonard's face, broad chests rubbing together. "So hot, Bones."

Would be, Leonard thought, if they could get their act together. He tried tugging at Jim's shirt, tried pushing the jacket from his shoulders, but he couldn't make his arms move they way he wanted, couldn't hold Jim's attention long enough to get anything accomplished. Jim slipped one arm out of his coat before becoming distracted by the scent of Leonard's hair. He managed to unbutton half of Leonard's shirt before slumping against Leonard's side and teasing his tongue along the shell of his ear.

"Damnit," Leonard grumbled to himself. Jim was a mess, a writhing, sloppy, sexy mess in his lap and it was driving Leonard crazy. He could feel the heat rolling off Jim, skin hot to the touch, prominent bulge in his pants hard and tempting. He pulled his hands from Jim's hips, stopped encouraging him closer and cupped his cock through the thick denim, cupped himself as well, felt a pulse of arousal at the pressure he exerted against his groin.

"Yeah," Jim slurred, wide grin splitting his face, eyes closed. He rocked against Leonard's hand, his own braced on the back of the couch, fingers curling into the ugly fabric for leverage.

"Gonna get yourself off like that, Jim? Rubbing against my hand?" Leonard asked. It was difficult to keep one hand still while working himself with the other, took a level of concentration he wasn't sure he was capable of at the moment.

Jim bit his lower lip, lashes fluttering, skin pale in the low light. "Mm-hmm," he mumbled.

"Gonna come in your pants for me? Like some inexperienced kid?" Leonard asked, letting his head loll back against the cushions, mouth hanging open. His hips jerked against his palm, against the rough scrape of his pants and underwear over the head of his cock. It was hot inside his clothing, stifling, constricting, and he yanked at his zipper, groaned his approval when it gave way and opened and he was able to finally touch.

"Yeah, that," Jim grunted, leaned closer and rested his forehead against Leonard's. "Make me do that. Wanna do that." An arm snaked around Leonard's neck, held them together, heavy breaths gusting in the small space between them.

"I'm gonna muss up that pretty outfit of yours," Leonard said.

"Uh-huh," Jim murmured. "Yeah. Want you to. Want-"

Leonard slipped his hand below the waist of Jim's jeans, fingers wiggling when they didn't find any underwear. Jim stuttered when Leonard tugged at the short hairs there, gasped when he managed to work his hand lower, cradle Jim's balls and cock, curve his hand and create a nice little place for Jim to rut against, a bit of flesh on flesh to really drive him wild.

(continued below)

[daria234.livejournal.com]

MCU, Steve/Bucky, the first time post-WS that Bucky sees Steve in a white sleeveless shirt like he used to wear in Brooklyn, Bucky remembers a very specific time they had together

[daria234.livejournal.com]

MCU, Natasha/any or Maria/any, black lace stockings

Fill: Battle Armor - MCU, Maria Hill/Natasha Romanoff

[ereshai.livejournal.com]

(I like Maria and Natasha, so you get them both together :D)

Natasha stood with one foot propped on the bed. She bent down, pulled the bunched stocking in her hand onto her foot, and eased it up over her calf and past her knee. It stretched taut around her thigh as she fastened the front garter. She stepped back and reached around to deal with the other clasp.

"Let me help you with that," Maria said from the doorway.

Natasha looked up and smiled at her. "I'd appreciate it." She stretched her leg out behind her, her toes resting lightly on the floor. "You came just in time," she said, looking over her shoulder, her eyes half-lidded and a smirk on her face.

Maria stepped into the room and knelt at Natasha's feet. She ran her hand up Natasha's inner thigh, then tucked two fingers into the stocking, holding it in place as she fastened the garter. "And the other one?"

"Please." Natasha turned and sat on the edge of the bed, tossing the other stocking to her.

Maria caught it and gathered it in her hands. She edged closer, then sat back on her heels, and Natasha put her foot in her lap. With the ease of much practice, Maria put the stocking on, smoothing her hand over the lacy material as she pulled it up Natasha's leg. "They aren't as scratchy as they look," she said. "Stand up, please."

Natasha stood and Maria fastened the garters. Her warm breath whispered over the bare skin of Natasha's hip and she suppressed a shiver. "Done." Maria looked up at Natasha looming over her. "Bring them back in perfect condition, and we'll see how they feel with your legs draped over my shoulders." Make sure you come back to me in one piece, she didn't say.

They both snorted at the likelihood of the stockings surviving the evening ahead. Natasha reached down and tugged Maria to her feet. "Or you can get a pair that isn't SHIELD issue. You can put them on me as slowly as you like." I'll always come back to you, Natasha didn't promise.

Maria leaned forward as Natasha slipped her arms around her shoulders. They shared a soft kiss. "Don't start anything you can't finish in two minutes," Maria broke away to say when Natasha tried to pull them both back onto the bed.

"We'll continue this when I get back," Natasha promised. They parted, and Maria helped Natasha into her evening dress. "Will you be monitoring the op tonight?" Natasha asked as Maria zipped her up.

"I might drop in after my meeting with the Director. Here," Maria said, holding out a tube of lipstick - 102 Sweet Dreams. "Can't go wrong with the classics." I love you. Be safe, she didn't say.

Natasha took it and put it in her handbag. I love you, too, she didn't reply, and left without a word.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Once Upon a Time, Regina/Emma or Regina/David(/Snow), wearing nothing but a collared shirt to bed

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Emma walked in to see Regina sitting on the bed, wearing nothing but one of Emma's white button-down shirts, her things smooth and long against the sheets.

"I think I've found something," Regina said, rifling through the stack of papers in her lap.

"I think you should wear my clothes more often," Emma said, smiling.

Regina smiled back, but said, "No distractions, Sheriff. I have a lead for you to follow."

"All work and no play makes for a dull mayor."

"Oh, we both know that I know how to play, and the last thing on your mind last night was that I'm dull."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll chase down the lead. But you owe me a nice romantic evening when the case is solved."

"I think I can make that compromise," Regina said.

"All right. Show me the files."

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Any, any, finding gloves very sexy

Fill - Star Trek AOS [PG-13]

[peppermint-wow.livejournal.com]

Star Trek AOS - Kirk & McCoy

Summary: Academy Era. Jim asks Leonard a question.


---

"You ever slap on a pair of those medical gloves and play with yourself?" Jim asked one day at lunch.

Leonard choked on his coffee.

"I mean," Jim continued, chewing thoughtfully on his turkey sandwich while Leonard sputtered across the table. "With that extra barrier, it might almost seem as if it's someone else's hand doing the deed, right? Like, it'd still be masturbation, but... not. Almost not. Right?"

Leonard's shoulders jerked. "How the hell should I know? I'm not an authority on the subject," he grumbled, head ducked low, gaze on his food.

Jim stared at Leonard, keen blue eyes taking in the red tinge coloring his ears and cheeks. "You okay?"

"Fine," he grunted. "Change the subject."

Jim grinned and dutifully shelved the topic for a later date.

---

End.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Arrow, Oliver/Diggle, Oliver loves the look (and feel and smell) of Diggle's leather coat; he's fallen asleep on Diggle's shoulder enough times to know

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

The Flash (TV), Leonard Snart/Barry Allen, the sight of Barry in his parka does things to him

Fill 1/2

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

They aren't sentimental, is the thing.

Maybe it was even his idea. "Don't think this means I'm gonna start going easy on you out there," he said, the first time he saw the kid in all of his naked glory. "Once the mask goes back on, this never happened."

He said it harsher than he meant to - was too rough that time, not that the kid complained. Leonard didn't apologize either. He would have had to acknowledge the shake in his hands that had been there since the cowl came off, when he saw why Flash takes it in stride whenever Leonard calls him 'kid'. (He's an asshole, but all this time, he hadn't thought he'd been aiming at an actual kid.)

But the mask kept coming off - it keeps coming off. And Leonard keeps finding reasons to fire a split-inch off-center when he faces off with the Flash on the job.

Even his own goddamned clothes have become a part of the problem.

"Jeez. It's like an icebox in here," Flash whines even as he continues tugging off the top half of his suit.

Leonard sneers. "Have you forgotten who you're messing around with, kid?" But he only runs his hands down the soft, goose-pimpled flesh of Flash's arms once - he presses his mouth over the kid's quivering lips, breathing in the icy puff of his breath briefly. Then he turns to fire up the small wood-burning stove near the bed.

"You could have lit that before I got here, you know," Flash says with a bitten-off smile (Leonard sees it through the corner of his eye) like Leonard's being played with, the kid testing what Leonard will do if he's annoyed enough.

And playfulness, Leonard rewards. So, unthinking, he grabs his parka off its hook by the door and tosses it to Flash. "You could wear something other than skintight leather out in the snow," he says flatly (as if he would ever seriously discourage Flash from wearing skintight anything). And he carefully doesn't stare as the boy blurs forward to catch his coat, then blurs again and is suddenly sitting in the center of Leonard's bed wearing the parka.

Wearing only the parka.

He practically disappears inside of it - long, slender fingers curled into fists just inside the fur-lined cuffs, the bottom curve of the hood reaching up past his chin and almost brushing his red lips. He's got his legs curled up inside the coat, as well, and picturing what he'd look like sitting there like that, completely naked, rushes most of Leonard's blood straight towards his dick.

Flash actually sitting there - wrapped up in something that belongs to, and fits, and probably even smells like Leonard - draws the rest of his blood to his face, he can feel it.

"Naw," Flash says, as if he has absolutely no idea what he's doing to Leonard - just by being. "Something like this would burn up quick."

"I fucking bet," Leonard mutters.

"What?"

They don't waste much time talking, usually, is another thing. Not like this, anyway, although the taunts and banter that punctuate their other encounters have lengthened and deepened over time.

Usually, this is where Leonard would be stripping as well, pushing his pretty little do-gooder down on his back and going straight to town. But when Leonard stares at him a moment too long, Flash doesn't tense up like he would have when this thing of theirs began - he smiles. He smiles at Leonard - nervous maybe, even a little shy, but not like he's afraid that Leonard's going to turn on him now, of all moments.

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

DCU, Dick Grayson/Adult!Damian Wayne, sex in costume

fill

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

(AU world where Damian was at least 15 when he was Dick's Robin. For reasons.)

Dick rolls them over and pins Damian down with his hands and a sharp grin that makes Damian’s heart race. “Put on your costume. The old one, when you were --”

“Your Robin,” Damian says, smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s slightly perverse, you know.”

Dick swoops down, bites along his jaw, growls, “You love it,” and squeezes Damian’s hip. “Now go.”


***

Damian takes extra time getting into the costume, careful not to rip any threads seeing as how he outgrew the older costume years ago. He preens in the mirror for a moment, making sure everything looks in order, before walking back out to the bedroom.

Dick smiles when he sees him, eyes raking over him hungrily, frowning when he reaches his feet. “Where are the boots?”

Damian huffs. “Honestly? Aren’t you just going to take them off in ten seconds anyway?”

Dick’s leer is full of filth and promises that makes Damian’s stomach tighten and his dick twitch beneath the tight spandex pants. “Maybe I want you to leave them on.”


***

“Fuck,” Dick groans, thrusting into Damian, fists clutching the yellow cape fanned out beneath him. “This is...yeah god, this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Damian’s nails bite into Dick’s shoulder as Dick’s teeth graze his neck, sucking a slow, dark bruise into his skin. “Marks, Grayson,” he scolds.

“I don’t care,” Dick groans, hitching Damian’s hips up a little higher, eyes rolling back into his head when the angle of it makes them both cry out. The soles of Damian’s boots are rubbing the skin off of Dick’s back where his ankles are hooked around him, but he doesn’t even care. “I thought about this,” Dick says, leaning back a little so he can get his hand on Damian, match up his strokes with his thrusts. “Taking you on a roof. In some dark alley. In the --”

“Batmobile,” Damian groans, bucking into Dick’s tight fist. “You could have, you know. All of those things. Any of them. Any time.”

“Fuck, Damian,” Dick arches his back, fingers digging into the meat of Damian’s thighs. “You were so much smaller then, could’ve easily god, climbed into my lap and rode me--”

“Oh god,” Damian gasps and Dick tightens his grip on him, strokes him harder, faster, until Damian finally arches completely off the bed, shouting obscenities and clawing at the sheets as he comes all over Dick’s fingers and the red tunic Dick made him leave on.

“Jesus christ,” Dick breathes out and crowds over Damian, fingers tracing the outline of the domino mask he’d quickly adhered earlier. “My Robin,” he growls, pressing his forehead against Damian’s as he thrusts into him a few more times, muttering a string of profanities next to Damian's ear, ripping the cape a little when he finally comes inside of him.

“That,” Damian exhales when Dick finally rolls off of him, dragging a hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. “We should. That. Again sometime.”

Beside him, Dick grins. “I thought it was ‘perverse’?”

If Damian could feel his legs he’d probably kick him.

[jalu2.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean(&/ Sam), Dad's jacket

Dean/Sam: Winchester Memories 1/2

[katleept.livejournal.com]

Contains (W)Incest



The jacket smells of old leather and the sweat and sulfur that comes with years of hunting Demons. It's still big on him even now, and he remembers how big John purposefully kept it so he could hide a whole freaking army of weapons in its folds. He remembers his father sneaking something out of the inside pockets of his jacket many times, but rare are the memories he has of being folded into that jacket, his dad's arms almost crushing him. Indeed, except for the times John had feared he'd lost him and his little brother, he hardly ever hugged him.

But when he slips into his father's jacket, Dean can still feel his arms wrapping around him. The man was always a pain in the ass, but somehow, every time he put his arms around him, he felt safe and secure despite knowing he wasn't. His childhood, his very life, have never been secure. His life still isn't today, and his childhood, what little there was of it, is long gone.

He doesn't bring out his dad's jacket very often, but there are times, like tonight, that he needs to remember despite the pain that comes with his memories. There are times, like tonight, when he wants to remember his dad and Bobby and the makeshift family they had. There are times, like tonight, when he just wants to shut his eyes, ignore all the bad, and remember only the good. There are times, like tonight, when he yearns to again his father's arms around him and remember what love he held for him.

He's told himself before that John loved him, that he only needed him to protect Sammy, but older now and wiser, too, Dean realizes those were always lies. His father did love him; he just didn't know how to show it. He was far too busy tracking down the yellow eyed Demon who killed his wife to remember to also being a father to the boys who were left behind.

Dean's hand clench into fists against the grungy, hotel bed. His childhood is a long string of memories of being left behind, but he never let himself, and specifically Sammy, be left behind for long. There were many times his father pulled them out of messes Dean had allowed them to get into by just wanting to be a normal teenager, but there were times, too, when he'd pulled his father out of places he'd had no business being with young boys to raise.

He slings back whiskey, enjoys the burn of the liquor on his tongue and down his pipes, and shoves away the memories of going into bars hunting his dad. He doesn't want to remember those times. He wants to remember the good. He misses his father, and today was his birthday after all.

He hears the shower stop running and looks up as Sam walks into their bedroom. He still has one towel wrapped around his waist and is using his second to dry his shaggy, brown hair. Dean grins at him from around the mouth of his bottle. He notes how Sam's eyes widen slightly as he sees their father's jacket hanging on Dean's frame and slowly puts his bottle down. Sam drops the one towel after finishing his hair and crawls into bed beside Dean without bothering to get dressed.

Dean's arms wrap around him in a way his father's never did. Their dad tried hard, both boys know, but he was never the father they needed. Dean tried to be the father Sammy needed and deserved, but he was just too young and there were too many temptations on the road for a young boy like him to become involved with. He needed to be young, but he had never really been a child after their mother had been killed. Life, and their father, had never let him.

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Batman: TAS, Harley Quinn/Bruce Wayne, the first time he sees her in her pink dress

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Superman: TAS, Lex Luthor/Clark Kent, Lex's suits are absurdly difficult to get through

[doreyg.livejournal.com]

Justice League Cartoon, Wally West/Bruce Wayne, in costume

[creepy_shetan]

Burn Notice, Michael Westen + or / any, sunglasses

[creepy_shetan]

author's choice, any, "Are you wearing a cape?"

Fill: Ouran Highschool Host Club (a little bit Tamaki/Kyoya)

[ohmanishipit.livejournal.com]

Haruhi looked up from studying as Tamaki waltzed into the room, his aura was always loud, but…
“Um… Sempai, are you wearing a cape?” Haruhi glanced back at Kyoya in confusion, he only shrugged as Tamaki laughed delightedly.
“Yes! It’s so kind of you to notice! I look dashing don’t I!?” he spun around a few times, showing the cape off, with it twirling out around him.
“Uh, why?” Haruhi asked.
“Weeeell, I was thinking we could do a medieval theme and capes are so...” Tamaki blabbered on, continuing to twirl and twitter about the room. By now all the hosts had looked up from where they sat idly, all scattered around the room.
“Boss?” Kaoru interrupted the unending babble.
“Hm, yes?” Tamaki looked over at him, surprised that someone had spoken, but also pleased that someone was joining the (one-man)discussion.
“Why, exactly, is it shimmery purple?” Hikaru continued.
“The sequins give it more flare! And I think this color brings out my eyes!” Tamaki smiled widely, “What do you think?” He looked to the rest of them in the room.
Nobody said anything for a second, not wanting to say that he looked kind of ridiculous. Ending the silence, Honey suddenly burst out, waving his hand in the air enthusiastically, “I think it looks pretty, Tama-chan!!”
A few half-hearted murmurs of agreement followed this, and Tamaki turned to Kyoya, eager for his approval.
“What do you think, Mommy?” Tamaki asked hopefully.
Kyoya smiled at him with surprising warmth, “I think you look beautiful, Daddy.”
“Oh, thank you!” Tamaki latched on to him grinning. “Now we just have to get all of you fitted for them!”
“Oh--! Sempai, I don’t think we could do it justice, with the way you wear it!”
“Yeah,” Hikaru and Kaoru agreed in panic, “We would just look bad in comparison.” Kaoru finished.
Tamaki laughed, “Aww, not to worry my children, we will find something suitably flattering for each of you!”
Haruhi sighed in relief, narrowly escaping having to wear something so gaudy.
“Maybe tights?” Tamaki suggested to them.
Haruhi groaned, before smiling fondly. It could be worse.

[creepy_shetan]

author's choice, any, unintentionally matching clothes

MCU, Jane Foster + Darcy Lewis/Wanda Maximoff - "They Match"

[megan-moonlight.livejournal.com]

Jane was sitting on the couch, holding a cup of coffee as she looked at a folder Bruce has left for her.

She was aware that most of the people around her were dancing or talking, but truth to be told, she was more interested in Bruce's thoughts on her newest project, especially since no one besides Bruce had approached her for the last half an hour. When he had handed her the file she had been a bit surprised that it had taken him only a few days to get back to her, but it also meant that she would be able to go through everything sooner than she anticipated.

After putting her cup on the coffee table she made a move to pick up the folder, but just before her fingers could touch it, it was snagged by someone else. Darcy, who was now fanning herself with the folder, sat down next to Jane, smirking.

"And what have I told you before we left the lab?" Darcy took a sip of coffee from Jane's cup. "We're taking a break and enjoying the party. Which means that this stays with me as a punishment for breaking the 'no working during parties' rule."

"Technically, it's not my fault Bruce handed it to me during the party."

"Nope. You're not getting it back anyway."

Jane just smiled, picking up her cup again. "You sound like you're planning to carry it with you for the whole night. I thought you had plans."

"Don't worry, I included your workaholic tendencies in all my plans," Darcy answered. "Besides, it's not like I'm leaving the building. I can keep an eye on it."

"I thought you'd prefer to keep an eye on something else tonight," Jane smiled when Darcy bit her lower lip gently.

Darcy didn't stay on the couch for long, though, telling Jane that she needed something to drink. However, when the elevator door slid open and Jane saw who walked into the room, it became clear that Darcy won’t be coming back.

Wanda Maximoff stood near the door, and it was difficult for Jane not to smile when she noticed what Wanda was wearing.

Her comfortable-looking, dark red sweater was very similar to the one Darcy was currently wearing, though Darcy's was a bit more formfitting. And while Wanda was wearing a long skirt, and Darcy chose jeans, both articles of clothing were black.

Darcy seemed to find it equally surprising and adorable as well, because as soon as she spotted Wanda a bright smile appeared on her face, a smile Wanda mirrored right away. Darcy always smiled a lot, but Jane noticed that whenever the smiles were directed at Wanda, they seemed even brighter.

"We match!" Darcy caught one of Wanda's hands in hers before kissing her cheek gently. "Great minds think alike, right?"

Wanda just shook her head, still smiling, looking down at their entwined fingers.

Right before leaving, Darcy turned to look at Jane again, briefly waving at her with the folder full of notes, making Jane roll her eyes. Darcy just winked at that, following Wanda out of the room.

Leaning back and making herself comfortable again, Jane took a sip of coffee. Not even five minutes later, however, Doctor Helen Cho approached her, asking about her project.

Jane knew Darcy would be teasing her about talking about work once again when they meet later, but she really didn't mind.

[katleept.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Jubilee(/any) (+any(/any), her yellow trench coat

Fill

[alcimines.livejournal.com]

Dreams (PG, Jubilee & Logan, X-Men comicverse)

"You don't wear it any longer," Logan said as he gestured to Jubes' yellow trench-coat. It was hanging from a hook in her bedroom. And it had been hanging there for quite some time.

"It doesn't fit," Jubes said after a moment of hesitation.

Logan just looked at her, the barest trace of a smile on his face.

Jubes ran her fingers through her hair, trying to figure out what to say.

"Okay. Okay. In terms of size -- it fits. It just doesn't fit in other ways," she finally said.

"What ways are those?" Logan asked. He had a serious look on his face and his head was cocked slightly to one side. Jubes knew that look. It meant that Logan was really, really, paying attention. Which meant you had to be careful what you said because when Logan was like that he was scarily aware of whether or not you were telling the truth.

"I've gone through some changes, Logan," Jubes responded steadily. "I'm a vampire. I've got Shogo. I'm a full-blown X-Man. And..."

"And?" Logan prodded gently.

"And you're gone," Jubes said slowly.

Logan nodded. "Yeah. There's that. Sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye."

"S'okay," Jubes said as she wiped her eyes. "I mean... you'll be back. Right?"

Now it was Logan's turn to hesitate.

"Right?"

Then Logan grinned and shrugged broadly, "Maybe. Probably. People like us don't play by the rules when it comes to death -- we've proved that again and again. But you got to understand... someday I really will be gone. Gone for good. Maybe this is the time."

Jubes looked at the floor. "I don't think I can do it without you."

"Do what?"

"Life," Jubes replied slowly.

Logan shook his head, "Punkin', I never met anyone who had a better handle on life than you."

And then Jubes woke up.

After staring at the ceiling for a long moment, Jubes rolled out of her bed. Jubes didn't exactly sleep... not in the way normal humans slept. And she didn't spend the daylight hours dormant, like other vampires. Instead, she was somewhere in the middle. And in that odd place, it was possible to dream.

Shogo was peacefully asleep in his cradle. Jubes adjusted his blanket and kissed him on the forehead. Then she reached into her fridge and pulled out a bag of blood. As always, the taste seemed to be slightly off. Jubes wasn't sure if that was because she wasn't taking it from a live victim, or if mutant blood was just intrinsically different from what she was supposed to drink.

She was living off of cloned supplies of Logan's blood. That was what it took to take the edge off of being a vampire. It kept her from going way off the deep end and becoming a killer.

So when you got down to it, Logan was still with her.

Finishing the blood, Jubes tossed the bag into a recycle bin.

Gathering up her trench-coat, Jubes lay back down again and spread it over herself like a blanket. She used to sleep under it all the time.

Her odd version of sleep was a long time coming, but this time it was peaceful and dreamless.

[katleept.livejournal.com]

Angel, Angel/Cordelia, wrapped in his duster

FILL: Wrapped Up in Comfort

[geckogirl89.livejournal.com]

(A/N: I also included Fred, Wesley, and Gunn. This is set during season 3, before 3.11 (Birthday).)

Angel had left rapidly with Gunn and Wesley to go take care of Cordelia's vision. When he hovered over her as she sat back on the couch, observing with concern the way she was applying an ice pack to her temple, Cordy had given him a stern glare.

"Leave. Now, Angel. Those kids are going to die if you don't." She moved her free hand forward in a sweeping motion. "Vamoose!"

Wesley handed him an axe and Gunn pulled on his arm to get him out the door. Angel didn't even have time to grab his jacket.

An hour later, he comes back from the fight with multiple Volontari demons, bruised and with a few minor scratches on his torso. He's tired and not too injured, but he's looking forward to Cordelia's particular brand of first aid.

When he enters the lobby of the hotel, he sees Fred sitting up on the couch with a first aid kit on her lap. Cordelia, to his surprise, is not awake.

Instead, she's asleep, lying sideways and leaning her head on the arm of the couch. And she's wrapped in his leather duster. The dark fabric swamps her form. Her eyes are closed and her lips are upturned in a tiny smile.

It's rare, as larger-than-life as Cordelia is, for her to look this small. Or, as Angel reminds himself guiltily, this peaceful.

The axe Angel is holding clatters to the floor, and he barely registers the sound of metal hitting the tile or Gunn's complaints behind him. He moves forward, hypnotized, until he's kneeling in front of Cordelia's curled-up form.

"Cordy wanted to wait up for you guys, but that vision really tuckered her out," Fred narrated. "Before she fell asleep, she asked me to get Angel's jacket." Fred pauses, and Angel can picture her smiling. "She said it would be more comfy that way."

Angel reaches out carefully to brush a strand of hair behind Cordelia's ear. He only allows his fingertips to touch her. He can't bear to wake her up.

He reluctantly draws his hand away from her face, listening to her soft and deep breath. Angel is tempted to kiss her. If that's something he could do with Cordy. And if all of their friends weren't watching him right now.

"Angel, do you need any first aid?"

Angel focuses on Fred's question, feeling as if he just awoke from a dream. He shakes his head. "I'm fine. It should heal up quickly."

Wesley makes a "pfft" noise that sounds disturbingly like Cordelia. "Please. I've seen you act pathetically wounded with much less injuries when Cordelia offered to attend to you."

Gunn chuckles. "Yeah, and we all know why." Fred giggles, and Angel scowls at how all of his friends are teasing him.

Fred stands up. "Go sit over in that chair, Angel, and I'll judge for myself."

Angel stands and walks over to the chair as directed. As Fred patches up his minor wounds, Angel gazes past her to where Cordy lies in his signature jacket. The warmth he feels at the sight outweighs the slight sting of the disinfectant Fred applies to his scrapes.

[katleept.livejournal.com]

Once Upon A Time, Killian "Captain Hook" Jones/Emma Swan, He has a special hook for this occasion.

[katleept.livejournal.com]

Once Upon A Time/Labyrinth, Rumplestiltskin(/Belle French) + Jareth, They have the same tailor.