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

[wrong-song.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, any Doctor and/or companion + Six, Six's coat

Fill, Any Doctor, pretty much any companion...

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

"Oh my God. Are you saying you actually wore this?" She held up the motley coat, her eyes wide with horror.

The Doctor purses his mouth, disappointed in her reaction. "Well. Yes?"

She thrust the coat back into the closet where she found it. "So glad you have better sense than that this time around."

Re: Fill, Any Doctor, pretty much any companion...

[wrong-song.livejournal.com]

LOL, perfect! Thank you :)

[wrong-song.livejournal.com]

Steins;Gate (anime), Okabe Rintaro(/Makise Kurisu), lab coat

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

MCU(/any), Darcy Lewis(/any), "I may or may not be wearing anything underneath this coat."

Darcy/Jason & I should probably apologize for this

[quitehopeless.livejournal.com]

It is... insane?

---

“Alright,” Darcy said to herself. “Show time, Synergy.”

Jason was going to kill her for this. She knew it. She wasn't really sure what she was doing, and while she figured she could still manage to kick ass because, hello, she had before, she knew going after someone the way Jason did was a lot different from defending herself or getting caught up in the middle of an Avengers brawl.

Still, she knew if she asked him, he'd refuse to help her even if she seduced him, and asking Dick would just cause problems between them because Jason was so jealous of Dick it was almost cute—almost—so she'd started out on her own.

Maybe, in retrospect, she should have asked one of the Avengers or Barbara for help—nah, Darcy could handle this. She would handle this.

---

Jason gave the drug dealer another kick, tempted to finish it off with a bullet. He hated creeps who dealt to kids, who used kids. This guy got just what he deserved, and not even all of it. He didn't know why he held back. He wouldn't have, a couple years ago. Bruce couldn't stop him. Dick couldn't. No one could.

He was about to head in for the night when he heard the voices.

“You think you can stop us, little girl? I'm not scared of you.”

“That's fair,” the girl said, sounding suspiciously like Darcy. “I'm only scared of the way you smell, and that's not saying much.”

Damn it, that was her. Jason was going to strangle her. She knew better than this. All being a hero did was get people killed. He ran around the corner, drawing his guns as he did. He stopped in front of the alley, frowning.

“That hurt,” the man with the gun said. “I'm going to make you pay for that. Right after I rip the little mask off your face.”

“That's all you care about?” Darcy asked with a slight pout. “And here I thought you'd be wondering about my outfit and what kind of tricks I had in it. After all, I may or may not be wearing anything underneath this coat.”

The creep stared at her, and Darcy smirked right before she tased him.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?”

Darcy shrugged. “Using all my assets, just like I should. Brains won out over brawn. So did technology, but you know, he was totally distracted and it worked.”

“No, it didn't.”

“Yes, it did,” she insisted. “You act like I haven't tested it dozens of times, when hello, I have. It works on you. Every time.”

“Does not.”

“Wanna bet?” Darcy came toward him, swaying her hips a little as she did. “Do you think I have anything on under this coat, Red Hood?”

Jason knew what she was doing, knew he shouldn't fall for it, but he swore when she moved he saw bare flesh and no one was that crazy, not even Darcy, but he almost wasn't sure. “Uh...”

“I'll save the tasing for when we get home,” she said with a triumphant grin.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

The Odyssey, Odysseus/Penelope, once he returns to Ithaka, he only wears clothes Penelope has made for him (whether they fit or not)

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Leverage, any/any or ensemble, "Bow ties are cool."

Fill, Parker/Hardison/Eliot

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

Parker is talking to them both about a much needed disguise and Eliot's complaining about the required formal wear. He even goes as far as to insult the fashion icon that is the bowtie, which really is where Hardison draws the line.

"I'll have you know that bowties," Hardison starts, half distracted by the computer screen infront of him and far too focused on typing and coding to really pay attention to what he is saying, "are cool."

Two seperate groans echo through the coms after he speaks and it takes him a second to recall his words. When he does he smirks and lets out a quiet laugh as he leans an inch or so further back in his seat: just far enough to stretch, but not too far from the security monitor he's breaking into on his computer.

"Hardison," comments a very patient sounding Parker, "we agreed that there would be no more Doctor Who quotes on missions."

"Especially," grits out a frustrated Eliot, "through comms we are all forced to listen to."

Alec stretches his arms above his head and lets out a single laugh. "You're right, you're right my bad." He relents, cracking his neck before he leans back up and into his computer screen.

"Won't happen again. Promise"

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Tortall, any/any, (Character) is more used to wearing armour than fine clothes, but that doesn't stop them from enjoying silk undergarments

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Author's choice, author's choice, a Pucci scarf is all (Character) needs to feel awesome.

Fill: Devil Wears Prada, Andy/Miranda, PG, 1/2

[fresh-brainss.livejournal.com]

“You’re late,” Miranda says, but stands anyways, leaning in for their customary kiss in greeting. She leaves her glasses on, a hint to Andy that she’s been hard at work for hours, barely looking up from her desk as she barks orders to her new assistant. “Did you have to travel by penny cab?”

“Nice to see you, too,” Andy says, unfazed, letting her hand linger a little too long on her wife’s arm. Even though they’d been married for nearly five years, Miranda was still conservative about affection in public. “I brought you lunch.”

Miranda eyes the bag in Andy’s hands, one brow raised in barely-concealed interest. “Green salad from—“

“From the new café across from your salon, yes,” Andy says, setting the food on Miranda’s desk. “You need a break. You need to eat.” Miranda rolls her eyes, but Andy puts up her hand before she can protest. “I only have half an hour. Don’t you want to eat with your wife?”

“Always so difficult,” Miranda says, thin-lipped, but sits down. They eat in companionable silence for a moment, but Miranda’s chewing slows as she looks Andy up and down with approving eyes. “You look…lovely. Did I forget an engagement?”

Andy feels herself flush at the compliment. She pokes at her turkey-cranberry salad, trying to be nonchalant. “Nope. I just threw whatever on this morning.” She presses a hand to her scarf. “Why, do you like it?”

She’s changed her style some since her stint at Runway—she’s more casual, definitely, and a lot more practical. She spends more money on books and wine than she does on shoes and purses. And though she’d never fully admit it to Miranda, she’s begun shopping at thrift stores. Not vintage boutiques or high-end consignment stores—just run-of-the-mill secondhand shops filled with racks and racks of used clothing and accessories.

Today, she’s wearing the short, black wool Valentino dress Miranda got her for Christmas months before with simple burgundy tights and black boots. Her bag is designer—a big, shiny, functional thing with an embossed stamp from a label Andy’s never heard of who Miranda is enamored with. But around her neck is a paper-thin silk scarf, multicolored in whites, reds, and purples with a black and burgundy border. The geometric shapes clash against each other at the fold Andy is wearing it, drawing attention to the statement piece.

“That,” Miranda says, nodding at the scarf. “It suits you. Where did you pick up such a thing?” Her eyes are appraising, but Andy recognizes the pointedness in her look—it’s not a look she spares for models or designers. Those hooded eyes are for Andy only.

Andy’s about to smile and cave, telling Miranda the origins of the scarf, but she can’t resist being a little shit sometimes. “Oh, don’t give me that. You know this scarf.”

[ladymercury-10.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Amy Pond, little girl in the woods all dressed in red

Fill

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

There are stories told about the girl in the woods, told by those who ventured into the forest and survived: those who dared to come back out.

They talk of how sharp her teeth are, how cutting her eyes can be. They talk of how wide her wicked smiles stretch and how red her lips are. The color of blood, the townsfolk often hear from the surviors, her lips, her hair, her clothes, they're all too red.

They only have a few stories, as they only have a few survivors, and stretch both their trust and fear wide.

Stories are passed around of the little girl adorn in red, and one day, out of a blue box a stranger appears.

He's somber and no where near as entertained by their tales as the other guests are.

He does ask the survivors of the wood for a description of the little red girl, over the nightly fire, and when they cannot remember anything further the stranger begins to fill in their blanks.

Later the townsfolk will recall that the fires from that night had shadowed the strangers face and made him appear decades older as he talked on the little girl dressed in red.

The next morning there are reports that the stranger in the blue box has left their smalltown for the woods.

.

He never does come back.

But neither does the little girl dressed in red.

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

DCU, always-a-girl!Jason/always-a-girl!Tim, the dress you wore, the pretty shoes

IIIII don't know about this, but okay

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

“Not a fuckin’ word,” Jay’s voice is low and a little raspy, probably from smoking a cigarette or two before sneaking in through the back, and gives Tim a threatening glare when she spins around.

“Oh my god,” Tim says, jaw dropping unattractively as she takes her in, words dumbly falling out of her mouth. “You look like a girl.”

Jay smirks and snatches a cream puff off the dessert table, popping it between her shiny, cherry red lips. “Glad you finally noticed,” she says, scratching the area right beneath her breasts, then (and Tim hopes to god there’s no cameras on them right now) adjusts the strapless bra she has on underneath the dress. “God this shit is itchy as fuck. Yours doesn’t look itchy. Alfred must be pissed at me for blowing the microwave up last week and this is my punishment.”

She looks so miserable Tim almost feels bad for her. Except Tim can’t really do much of anything except stare. At the way the slinky black dress hugs Jay’s body, emphasizing curves she didn’t even know Jay had, at the deep v that shows parts of Jay she’s only ever glimpsed when they were changing after patrol, at the long, long legs accentuated by the three inch heels she’s miraculously still standing on.

“You know, you’re kind of staring,” Jay grins, subtly slipping two glass of wine from a distracted waiters serving tray.

“I…”.

“C’mon,” Jay says, grabbing Tim’s elbow and dragging her through the crowd. “Let’s go get buzzed.”


***


Tim sways lazily in the stairwell Jay decided they should hide out in until the party was over, thigh pressed up against Jay’s, shoulder to shoulder. She smells so good, fruity and sweet and a little like vanilla, and Tim wonders idly if she’d taste the same.

“Wine,” she murmurs, leaning back onto her elbows. “Wine is nice.”

Jay laughs and twists around to look down at her, puts her hand on Tim’s hip and Tim goes completely still, like a deer caught in the headlights. “You’ve been looking at me all night,” Jay whispers, stroking Tim’s hip through the gauzy fabric of her dress.

“You’ve been nice to look at,” Tim says, smiling drunkenly. “I didn’t. Didn’t know you could look so…”

“Smokin?” Jay tries to help. Tim shakes her head.

“Pretty. Girly. I already knew you were hot, but --”

“Hot, huh?” Jay smirks. “Never told me that.”

Tim blushes, like her words and the situation and the dizzying buzz has all caught up with her at once. “You know you are.”

“Yeah,” Jay grins, leaning down in her space. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Tim bites her lip, squirms a little when Jay’s hand on her hip tightens a bit. “You’re really,” she swallows. “really hot. I -- I really want to--”

Fortunately Tim doesn’t have to finish her sentence because then Jay’s kissing her, opening Tim’s mouth up with her tongue, hot and persistent and Tim reaches up, cups her hand around the back of Jay’s neck and pulls her deeper, moaning into her mouth a little, too amazed that this is finally happening to be embarrassed about it.

What feels like forever and yet not long enough, not nearly long enough, Jay breaks away and drags her thumb through Tim’s smeared lipstick. “See? If you’d told me that earlier we could have been doing this the whole time.”

“I”m sorry?” Tim’s grinning deliriously, daring to snake her arm around Jay’s waist and pull her against her, belly doing a little flip when Jay’s eyes light up at the touch.

“S’cool,” Jay says, leaning down to press her lips to Tim’s neck, throat, collarbone. Then she pulls back. “You really think I’m...that I look pretty?”

“Jay,” Tim says, winding a finger around one of Jay’s curls. “You’re so beautiful it drives me crazy. In your costume, in your stupid leather jacket and combat boots, in this amazing dress and heels. It doesn’t matter what you wear. You could prance around in a burlap sack and I’d still want to jump you.”

The blush in Jay’s cheeks is the prettiest thing Tim’s ever seen. “Yeah, you totally suck for not saying that earlier.”

Tim just smiles, threads her fingers into Jay’s hair and pulls her down. “Let me make up for it.”

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

DCU, Jason Todd/any, I hate your big dumb combat boots

fill - jason/bruce

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

“I hate those things,” Bruce growls beneath his breath as Jason lands with a thud next to him. “They aren’t stealthy in the least. The enemy can hear you coming a mile away.”

Jason reaches back and releases the catch on the hood, removing it -- Bruce is certain of this -- just so he can see the smirk that flashes across his face. Jason always did like to put on a show. “Not really what you said last night,” the smirk spreads out in a grin. “When you told me to leave them on. Only them.”

“Hn.” Bruce’s smirk is barely visible beneath the cowl, but Jason catches it anyway, looks like he’s going to say something else, smug and teasing, something to rile him up good, maybe something that will make Bruce want to forget about the crime and the city tonight and just take Jason home and fuck the cocky smirk off his face. But they’ve got a job to do and he won’t let Jason be his downfall tonight. “They’re nice, but I think I preferred the pixie boots. They never rubbed the skin off my back. Maybe you should go back to them.”

Bruce smirks as he fires off his grapple. That should shut him up for a while.

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Jo Harvelle/Dean Winchester or Jo Harvelle/Ruby or Jo Harvelle/Bela Talbot, little black dress

Fill: Jo/Ruby, hope you like it!

[ohmanishipit.livejournal.com]

“Tada.” Jo presented herself with a slightly shy smile. She was wearing a short black dress that hugged her tightly, accentuating her curves. Ruby put her hands on either side of her waist.
“Hmm, nice.” Ruby hummed appreciatively, running her hands down to Jo’s hips, allowing her eyes to trail down the girl’s figure as well.
“You like the dress?” her smile was charmingly hopeful.
“Kid, there’s no dress I wouldn’t like with you in it.” Ruby wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her flush against her. She pushed her lips against Jo’s fluidly, it was so nice kissing someone the same height as her. Her tongue pushed past her lips and Jo sighed into her mouth. Ruby grinned against her lips.
“‘Course I wouldn’t mind if there was no dress at all.”
Jo leaned her head back and laughed breathily as Ruby shifted her focus and began to nip at her neck.
Ruby moved to unzip the dress, until Jo’s hand halted her movement.
“Hey, come on, I planned this date.” She said softly with determination.
Ruby sighed dramatically but pulled away with a smile, “Yeah, c’mon, let’s go.” Ruby’s hand shifted to rest on the small of her back as they walked to the door. Her hand shifted again and moved down to pinch her ass. Jo grinned and linked their arms together. This was gonna be a fun night.

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

DCU, Tim Drake/any, he has every superhero t-shirt but Batman

[oh-mcgee.livejournal.com]

Tim sits down in the booth across from Steph, unzipping his jacket to reveal the t-shirt underneath, navy blue with Thor’s hammer plastered across the front.

“So far I’ve counted,” Steph says, ticking off her fingers as she names them off, ““Superboy, Superman. Green Lantern, Flash, Wonder Woman, Captain America, Ironman, and once, a Harley Quinn. Really, Tim? Harley Quinn?”

Tim blushes. “I’ve never worn that shirt.”

“In public,” Steph smirks. “O knows all.”

“Ugh,” Tim groans. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” Steph says, blowing on her coffee to cool it. “Is that not once have I ever seen you in an actual Batman t-shirt. Doesn’t that, I dunno, hurt his feelings or something?”

Tim snorts. “Not really sure he has those,” he says. “But when I walk around in my Green Arrow shirt you should see the vein that pops out of his forehead.”

“Probably the same one O gives me when I use comms for my own personal karaoke machine.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at her.

“What?” Steph says, taking a sip of her coffee. “I won’t be Batgirl forever. My fresh, kickin’ beats will be my ticket to fame and O will already have them all recorded.”

“You’ve really thought about this,” Tim says, trying not to laugh.

Steph nods, tapping her temple. “Inner workings of a genius,” she says. “So, if he goes nuts over the Green Arrow shirt, what do you think he’ll do about the Harley Quinn one?”

Tim grins. “Only one way to find out.”

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

AtS(/BtVS), Fred Burkle/any, glasses

FILL: Fred/Wes/Gunn with background Angel/Cordelia, Part 1/2

[geckogirl89.livejournal.com]

(A/N: I don't know what you ship on this show, but Fred/Wes/Gunn is totally am OT3 for me. I added some background Cangel because I'm the biggest dork when it comes to them, and Cangel just tends to show up whenever I write AtS fic. Set in an AU version of season 3.)

Fred was researching at the computer, squinting through her glasses at the results of her search in the Demons Demons Demons database, when she suddenly felt hands spinning her chair away from the desk. Fred barely had time to open her mouth in surprise before Charles was descending to capture her mouth in a heated kiss.

She brought her hand up to her boyfriend’s shoulders and squeaked into his mouth as she felt his tongue coiling familiarly around hers. Charles continued to kiss Fred for a while until they both needed to breathe, and he pulled away with a sexy grin.

Fred could feel the heat flaming in her cheeks and adjusted her glasses, which had fallen down her nose during the intense kiss. “Not that I didn’t appreciate that, but what the heck was it for?”

Charles grinned even wider. “Nothing, really. I just thought you looked really adorable in your glasses today.”

Fred’s face turned an even brighter shade of red. “Oh.”

A few feet away, Fred heard a sigh, soft and forlorn. She glanced over to her left and saw her other boyfriend Wesley, studiously examining one of his books and pretending that he hadn’t made the rather depressing noise. Fred frowned in concern. She and Charles had discussed this previously, and they found that they both regretted how Wesley had clearly felt left out once they became a couple. To their mutual surprise, they had also discovered that they were interested in including him as part of their relationship. They had approached Wesley with the idea a few days ago, and now all three of them were trying to figure out how to make their unusual relationship work.

They hadn’t told the others on the team about this recent development yet, simply because it was still new to them too. But Fred knew Wesley might end up feel like some kind of dirty little secret if they didn’t tell the others soon, and that was the last thing either she or Charles wanted.

Cordy smirked from her spot across the room. “Cheer up, Wes. I’m sure Gunn thinks you look adorable in your glasses too.”

Fred looked up at Charles and shrugged. She knew that Cordy had meant her comment as a joke, but it did give them a perfect opening…

Charles winked at Fred, reading what her open expression conveyed. “I do, actually,” he announced to the room at large. And then he advanced towards Wesley and proceeded to kiss him just as thoroughly as he had kissed Fred a moment earlier.

Fred giggled in delight as she saw her boyfriends kissing. It was strange how the sight of them kissing affected her. If anyone else had been kissing Wes or Charles, she’d probably feel pretty jealous and upset. But when it was the two of them, Fred felt fizzy and happy in a way that similar to the buzz she would get right after she drank a glass of champagne. It was a strange feeling but definitely a good one, Fred decided.

She looked over to Cordy and held up a hand to stifle a laugh when she saw how high Cordy’s eyebrows had risen when Wes and Charles started kissing. Cordelia was clearly shocked, and she nudged Angel, who was curled up next to her on the couch and focused on the book he was reading.

“What is it?” Angel asked. Cordy nudged him more insistently, and Angel frowned. “Cordy, I’m trying to find the demon in your vision.”

“Wes and Gunn are making out,” she hissed.

Angel blinked up at Cordelia. “Seriously?”

Cordy pointed over to Wesley and Charles, who were indeed still kissing. Angel stared at the two men, eyes widening for several seconds, before he laughed incredulously.

“I guess that’s one way to solve a love triangle,” Angel said.

Fred wondered if they ever actually counted as a love triangle. Probably not, since they all wanted each other. Charles broke his kiss with Wes, and Fred decided that it was time to make the nature of their relationship crystal clear.

[ladymercury-10.livejournal.com]

DCU, Barbara Gordon/Dinah Lance, fishnets