Wednesday-Hands
Apr. 6th, 2011 05:27 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
phantisma.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
comment_ficSo, for me Wednesday is a craft day. At work we spend our lunch hour working on yarn-craft: knit, crochet, etc...so today's theme is Hands...every prompt should include something to do with hands...
Be imaginative...it could mean craftiness...wood working, knitting, art of some kind...it could mean handiness...repairing something, working on an engine, etc...it could be literally about a characters hands...scars and marks, aching, missing...
As always, follow the rules, no more than 5 posts at a time, no more than three in any one fandom. You can always leave more as they are answered. No spoilers for at least a week after air/publish date, and if your fill has spoilers, please warn and leave at least three spaces to give folks a chance to skip over.
Please format your prompts correctly. For Example:
Criminal Minds, Morgan/Reid, candlelight massage
White Collar, Neal, sensitive fingers
Supernatural, Castiel, he gets dosed with some drug and can't stop watching his hands
Go forth and have fun!
Be imaginative...it could mean craftiness...wood working, knitting, art of some kind...it could mean handiness...repairing something, working on an engine, etc...it could be literally about a characters hands...scars and marks, aching, missing...
As always, follow the rules, no more than 5 posts at a time, no more than three in any one fandom. You can always leave more as they are answered. No spoilers for at least a week after air/publish date, and if your fill has spoilers, please warn and leave at least three spaces to give folks a chance to skip over.
Please format your prompts correctly. For Example:
Criminal Minds, Morgan/Reid, candlelight massage
White Collar, Neal, sensitive fingers
Supernatural, Castiel, he gets dosed with some drug and can't stop watching his hands
Go forth and have fun!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:27 pm (UTC)Filled: Pangs
Date: 2011-04-06 10:37 pm (UTC)It was snowing in New York. In the middle of April. Peter sighed and tried to focus on his work, but he kept finding himself distracted. Neal was at his desk within Peter's line of vision, which was something he had careful organized when he had planned to get Neal out of prison in the first place. It was better to take preventative caution sometimes. All morning, he had procrastinated, which wasn't like Neal. First, it had been coffee, then the bathroom. There was a snack, then lunch. More coffee and the bathroom again. He was supposed to be working on duplicating a passport that was far too good. The tech guys in the basement needed some help with this one, especially the holographics. Peter knew this was the type of work that Neal loved, and he hadn't started yet.
It was a quarter of and he wasn't sure of what he should do. To be truthful, he was more worried than angry. He peered down, sipping at his fourth cup of coffee, trying not to be noticed and watched Neal rub at his hands. The left looked red from irritation, and Neal kept setting down his pencil to tuck his hands in tightly against his sides. Peter also noticed that he had tugged back his desk so his back was against the generator. It blew loudly but threw out little warm air.
“Are you ready to go home?”
The rest is here (http://kaylynnkie.livejournal.com/22825.html)
no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 06:39 pm (UTC)Castiel has just finished smoking some truly prime bud. Fuzzy and purple-tinted and sticky enough to cling to his fingers.
His fingers smell sharply of the resin. He has dirt under his nails. With a frown he wanders into the kitchen in search of a toothpick.
While he's giving himself an impromptu manicure he thinks about how strange the human form is. Aside from God's obvious favoritism, opposable thumbs are the only thing that really sets humans apart from other animals. Only not really because other primates have opposable thumbs too.
Castiel spends the next five minutes playing variations of "Here's the church, here's the steeple. Open the doors and see all the people." and wonders why fingers only bend one direction.
"Cas?" Dean's tone is amused. Castiel is testing out various hand signs including the bird and live long and prosper. "You're stoned." It wasn't a question.
"I am, indeed. Let me see your hands." Castiel decides to compare the lines in their palms. Dean doesn't pull away and the look on his face is one of amusement.
Castiel doesn't know much about palm reading because it's a crapshoot of a way to determine anything except maybe what a person does for a living and which hand they jerk it with- but he knows that Dean's heart line is marred by a burn scar and his fate line neatly bisects his entire palm.
"Can I have my hand back, Cas?"
"Oh, right. Of course. Do we have any more Doritos?"
no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-26 09:16 pm (UTC)He leaves her underwear on, doesn't even try to change the rules, fingers skimming softly over the fabric.
Then he lowers his head and touches his lips to her skin, slowly increasing the pressure, so slow, so smooth she barely registers the pain. Starting by her navel, the muscles of her stomach tensing and releasing under his touch. She's breathing shallowly. Very, very still, like prey, immobile before the predator.
No compulsion, too full of vervain for that. And he never speaks, just, presses his lips over her skin, sucking hard, scrape of teeth. Never breaking skin. Moving up to the underwire of her bra, lips, feather soft over the lace, then hard again on the upper swell of her flesh. The pale arch of her neck, sucking hard, skin turning red. Marks under his lips, blood rushing under his touch. Not kissing, not exactly. Not biting, not exactly. Just this, focused mapping of her body. Inch by careful inch.
His fingers press into her sides, brush up over her ribs. A sudden jolt and he's holding her arms above her head. A vice like grip on her wrists, cutting off the blood flow and contrastingly gentle with his mouth, licking over the hot marks on her neck, down, over her chest, each bruise cooled by his tongue.
He settles back, releases her hands and looks down at her splayed out beneath him. The tension in her muscles has released. She's loose, calm and he drinks in the sight, just as intently as Stefan ever took her blood.
Then he leaves. Stands in one, smooth ripple of movement, and walks out of the room.
She dresses in silence, (a moment of dizziness as she stands, hand reaching out for the bedpost, smooth wood under her palm). By the time she leaves the room he's already gone.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:52 pm (UTC)Fill: Something Soothing About It
Date: 2011-11-13 04:20 pm (UTC)He wasn’t exactly sure what about why he found it that way.
It might be the familiarity of running his hands thought the feathery appendages.
Or the closeness it allows him to feel toward his mate.
It might be because Dean has an inborn need to take care of people and this is just another way to do that.
Or it could be the giant puddle of contented goo that Castiel turned into when Dean groomed him.
Whatever the reason was, Dean would always enjoy this alone time with his
mate.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:52 pm (UTC)Filled: The Artist, A Study
Date: 2011-04-07 01:04 am (UTC)Moz didn't recognize the painting. It must be a Caffrey then. A series of buildings, towering and painful, and a rainstorm tearing it all apart. He watched as Neal sighed and loaded his brush with a dark green color and added it to the rapidly darkening sky. His strokes were long and uneven, his hand trembling and the veins prominent as his grip tightened. Moz had come in rather late in Neal's work and was able to see it finished rather than begun, which was a shame. He loved seeing a piece of white paper become something incredible whether it was a bond or a Monet.
Finally, Neal let the brush fall into a cup of water. His breath was coming rapidly, and he looked exhilarated. There was a brightness in his eyes that Moz didn't see except when Neal was really working at his craft. He stalked towards Moz, who sat peacefully on the bed, with a predatory stance. He kissed Moz hard, winding his hands in his lover's hair and not pulling away until he needed air.
“I thought you were coming back tomorrow, Mozzie?”
He swallowed audibly. “Things didn't take as long as I expected them to. Are you complaining?”
“Not at all. It's just,” he wiped a paint soiled finger across Mo's cheek, and the other man gasped at the wetness, “now we're both going to get covered in paint.”
no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:58 pm (UTC)Filled
Date: 2011-04-06 09:30 pm (UTC)Sammy giggles and drools as he tries to put one of John's fingers in his mouth.
John gently tugs his hands, barely moving them in fact, and watches the surprise spread across Sammy's face as he works to keep a grip on John's hand.
Sam's hands are tiny compared to his daddy's, but he's gonna grow up to be big and strong and just like John, and really: what more could John ask for than that?
Re: Filled
From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 12:59 pm (UTC)Filled
Date: 2011-04-06 09:56 pm (UTC)Daniel was an academic. In Jack's mind that meant someone who wrote papers, not someone who did real work.
The fact that Daniel was an archeaologist meant nothing to Jack: after all, didn't proffessors usually bring grad students to do the grunt work?
It had taken more than 8 years for Jack to realize just why Daniel's hands were so callused.
Not only did Daniel hand write everything, but he also was the first to get a crowbar into a crate, (which he usually tried to carry himself, worried that the delicate contents might accidently be broken), he also spent most of his time at a dig scrabbling in the dirt trying to get the tiniest bits and pieces up, using his bare hands if he had to.
There were new callouses now; from learning the guitar, from carrying a gun, from getting into and staying in shape, from that weird rope thing Daniel got from a friendly bunch of natives that was essentially a gordian knot.
Jack loves looking over Daniel's hands, marking the new callouses and scars with kisses.
Jack's glad of Daniel's calloused hands: they show who he is.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:04 pm (UTC)Filled.
Date: 2011-04-06 10:08 pm (UTC)"These hands were made for healing." Gabriel contiued, pressing a kiss to each palm. "How did you stray so far from your purpose?"
Raphael yanked his hands away.
"I am tired of always being too late, of arriving just in time to hold my brothers as they die.
Or worse: patching them up just enough to fight another battle.
I want this to end and I cannot be a mere healer any longer."
Raphael shook his head, looking more lost than Gabriel had ever seen him as Raphael backed away.
"I can't."
And Raphael was gone.
Gabriel bowed his head in sadness.
The gentlest of them all had taken up the sword: what hope was left in Heaven?
Gabriel spread his wings and flew away, knowing he'd never see home again.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:06 pm (UTC)Set way way way in the beginning, before the Fall or any of that
Date: 2011-04-07 09:07 am (UTC)Raphael rests a hand on Lucifer's back and closes his eyes, focusing on the chill.
"Why are you cold?" he asks.
Lucifer makes a soft, confused sound, and when Raphael opens his eyes Lucifer is studying him.
"I'm not cold."
"Your fingers," Raphael murmurs, and Lucifer places his palm flat on Raphael's chest.
"They've always been like this," Lucifer murmurs.
"I've never noticed," Raphael says, and traces them. "Does it mean anything?"
It's an idle question, not really meant to be answered.
"No," Lucifer says, but Raphael hears the lie in it, and wonders.
Re: Set way way way in the beginning, before the Fall or any of that
From:Re: Set way way way in the beginning, before the Fall or any of that
From:Re: Set way way way in the beginning, before the Fall or any of that
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:39 pm (UTC)Filled
Date: 2011-04-06 10:25 pm (UTC)The ribbon is there to remind him of his promise. This time they do things the human way.
Sam was busy the entire week preparing for tonight (well, all the time that wasn't spent hunting, eating, sleeping and doing other necessary human things) and Gabriel wasn't going to ruin his planning even if he could snap the ribbon like spidersilk.
Sometimes though, Gabriel thought as Sam loomed over him, It's better to go with the flow.
The thought was punctuated by a hungry kiss and (finally!) the feel of Sam's wonderfully large hands on his body.
Briefly, Gabriel is reminded of Baldur's hands and their brief fling but soon his thoughts are back with the man who really loves him.
Re: Filled
From:Re: Filled
From:no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-06 01:47 pm (UTC)