Thursday - Sweet Sensation

[writinchica2k.livejournal.com]

Gooooood morning/afternoon/evening/whenever you're reading this, ladies and germs. I’m your host for this week writinchica2k, and I call today's theme "Sweet Sensation". Prompts can be anything related to the five (six?) senses.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ any fandom with a blind character, blind character, describing colors like they are touches
+ author's choice, any pairing, you fill up my senses
+ any horror-based fandom, author's choice, that one sound no one else picks up on

We use 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 2016 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheets 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=senses

Comments

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

Star Wars, any Jedi, getting accustomed to their new Force sense/s

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Stargate: Atlantis, Any, After living in Pegasus, Earth doesn't even smell like home.

Fill 1/3: Stargate Multiverse, Artist AU

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

John Eric wouldn’t admit it, but he was just a little bit terrified. It was a historic moment. His oldest son and a handful of other young men and women were graduating from the United States Air Force Academy as the first class of cadets specially trained for the Stargate Program. (Aliens. Wormholes. Other galaxies. A year later, and it still made his head spin.) Samuel had just been admitted to the Academy and would graduate in the fifth class of Stargate Cadets. John Eric should have been proud.

He had a seat on the second row in the stadium where the graduation ceremony was being held, right behind a whole bunch of government and military dignitaries involved in the Stargate Program - General Jack O’Neill, General Hank Landry, General Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Richard Woolsey, Dr. Rodney McKay, Colonel John Sheppard, Colonel Cameron Mitchell. Samuel was sitting beside John Eric, looking sharp in his cadet uniform. Sitting beside Samuel were Lieutenant-Colonel Evan Lorne and Dr. Jonathan O’Neill.

When Jonathan had finally sat him down to tell the truth, truth that most of the government didn’t know and was still highly classified - a lot of the details of the Stargate Program were still classified - John Eric’s mind had been blown. He’d been unable to think for a second after Jonathan confessed: that he wasn’t a teenager, that he was the neurological copy of General Jack O’Neill who’d been crammed into a teenaged clone of Jack O’Neill’s body as the result of an alien experiment carried out against his will and gone wrong. In fact, he was older than John Eric, and he was mentally older than his older-seeming lover by a couple of decades. Evan looked twenty years older than Evan. Evan was actually twenty years younger than him.

The ceremony was blessedly brief. Jack O’Neill had the honor of presenting the graduates with their diplomas, and he wasn’t one for long-winded speeches. General Landry welcomed the cadets into the Stargate Program, and Dr. Jackson spoke briefly about how they represented the best and brightest of the future of humanity among the stars. When Dean crossed the stage to receive his diploma, Samuel, John Eric, Jonathan, and Evan had cheered with abandon.

After the ceremony, there was a fancy reception at an upscale restaurant downtown, with wine and cubes of fancy cheese and crackers and everyone being polite, being politic, being ambitious. John Eric knew he cleaned up nice, but he and Bobby lingered on the edges, sipping from a single glass of wine and hoping no one talked to them. Krissy had been very excited to have a chance to dress up, and she was working the crowd of uniformed men and women like a pro. John Eric wasn’t sure what he would do if he lost her to the military as well. After her father had died - he’d battled cancer for years, which was why Krissy took up the job at the garage, to help with medical bills - a weight had been lifted from her, and while she would never be as delicate and sweet as Samuel’s girl Jess, she was a brighter person.

Dean was talking earnestly with Evan and General Carter, sipping wine, and John Eric wondered when his boy had become such a fine young man. He’d shipped off to Vietnam to fight with only his mother’s farewell, and he’d come home to disdain and angry hippies spitting in his face.

For Dean, not even the sky would be the limit.

“You look about as excited to be here as I am.” The man who slid into John Eric’s shadowed corner was none other than Colonel John Sheppard, Commander of Atlantis.

He had unruly non-regulation hair and was clutching a glass of wine like a shield.

“Not really my scene,” John Eric said.

Sheppard nodded to where Dr. McKay had joined Dean and General Carter. “I figured I’d get out of the line of fire.”

“You expecting sparks?”

“Where Carter and Rodney get together, nothing’s safe. Carter blew up a star once. And Rodney took out five-sixths of an uninhabited solar system.”

John Eric glanced at Sheppard. The man didn’t look like he was joking.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, not all Sentinels are warriors and not all Guides are touchy-feely

Fill 1/3: first foray into Sentinels, woohoo!

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. When she was checking over the updated personnel list for the Atlantis Expedition, she was mostly looking to make sure that John Sheppard was on there, because he had the ATA Gene in spades, and they needed him. But then she saw the asterisk next to his name, and a little italicized capital G next to the asterisk, and as she scanned the list, she saw a few designations with a little italicized capital S, and her breath hitched.

Sheppard was a Guide. The Expedition was going to include Sentinels and Guides. SG-1 had included a Sentinel and a Guide of necessity, because Jack O’Neill was a Sentinel and Daniel Jackson was a Guide and they’d been the first ones through the Stargate (though no one had known Jackson was a Guide at the time; military personnel were required to report either status), but until the effects of gate travel were known on bonded pairs, Sentinels and Guides hadn’t been allowed on gate teams unless they were paired together, which was rare.

That Sheppard was a Guide was baffling, because, well, he was a soldier. Who had little to say, but managed to say a whole lot with just the right sardonic lift of his eyebrow or wry, amused grin. And then Elizabeth saw - Rodney McKay was a Sentinel. No wonder he was cranky all the time, his senses in hyperdrive so he could work, but without a bond partner to keep him steady. It was...backwards. Sentinels were soldiers, used their superior senses to track and hunt and fight and defend, and Guides were their gentler handlers, right?

Only one day she watched McKay get into it with Zelenka for the thousandth time. Both of them were red in the face, and their voices were rising, and then Sheppard reached out, put a hand on McKay’s shoulder, and McKay deflated abruptly. His chest was still heaving and his face was still red, but he said, “Get out of my presence before I strangle you. We’ll resume this discussion later, when you’ve had time to contemplate your stupidity.”

Zelenka devolved into a flurry of swearing in Czech, threw his hands up, and stormed away.

Sheppard snatched his hand back, and McKay shouldered past him, bent over the nearest computer. “I have work to do.”

And that was that.

By all reports, Sheppard was a capable commander. Even though Colonel Sumner’s death was unexpected and the soldiers were wary of Sheppard taking command - even though he was the ranking officer - no one had complaints. Since Sheppard was the military commander of the Expedition, the only person people could complain to about him was Elizabeth, and so far, there were no complaints. So she checked, casually. Ford was a Lieutenant, which meant there was a bit of a gap in the chain of command - no captains - but he liked Sheppard, was proud to be on his gate team. Bates was the head of security, had no complaints, said Sheppard let him do his job and didn’t micromanage and when asked to make decisions, he didn’t make stupid ones.

Four months into what might be life on Atlantis, and Elizabeth didn’t think she understood Sheppard very well, yet. He was charming - heads turned when he passed, and more than one woman had remarked upon his smile and his fine figure - but Elizabeth knew nothing about him. At least, nothing she couldn’t have read in his service jacket.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, temporarily deprived of one of their senses

Fill, So Weird, Molly Phillips

[entireoranges.livejournal.com]

Posted on my tumblr account Here (http://entireoranges.tumblr.com/post/154682474832/control-this-depression)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Hawaii Five-0, Danny Williams/Steve McGarrett, touch starved

Fill!

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

At first, Danny didn’t notice it. He was so relieved they’d gotten Steve back from freakin’ North Korea, so relieved they’d found him alive, that he didn’t care about much else. Steve was back, and Steve was okay.

Except...he wasn’t. He didn’t shake hands, and pat people on the shoulder, and nudge Danny, and give high fives to Chin and Kono. He stayed away from people, didn’t touch them, didn’t let them touch him. Chin and Kono seemed to have picked up on it subconsciously, kept their hands to themselves and kept out of Steve’s space. They didn’t question, and they didn’t seem worried.

But Danny was, because it wasn’t normal. It made sense, though. Steve had been tortured by Wo Fat, had watched Jenna die. Other people touching him had been Very Bad Times. Danny and the rest of the team were friends, though. They’d never hurt Steve. Still, Danny understood that even a tough guy like Steve needed time to process, so Danny gave him space.

Until he couldn’t stand it anymore. It felt like there was a chasm between him and Steve.

So Danny invited Steve over to watch a movie. They made popcorn, they kicked back on the couch - and Steve stayed on the far side of the couch. Put the popcorn bowl between them like a shield.

Danny had played this game before, with girls playing hard to get. He put the popcorn bowl on his lap. Steve reached for it, didn’t find it, and Danny slid closer, obligingly. Every now and again, between Steve’s forays for popcorn, Danny slid a little closer, a little closer, till they were almost touching, just like how it usually was when they watched movies, even if it was just the two of them.

Steve glanced at him. “You putting the moves on me, Danno?”

Danny blinked. “What?”

Steve looked amused. “What next - you going to yawn and stretch and casually put your arm around me? This isn’t high school.”

“What - no!”

“You think I didn’t notice that stunt you pulled with the popcorn bowl?”

“It’s not a stunt,” Danny protested. “It’s just - you don’t touch me anymore.”

It was Steve’s turn to blink. “Excuse me?”

“Before, you were all - nudge nudge, poke, pat, slap, high five, whatever,” Danny said. “And now you’re all standoffish.”

“Before what?”

Could Steve really not see the change in himself? “Before - before North Korea,” Danny said.

Steve lowered his gaze. “Oh.”

“Oh, what? North Korea was more than just an oh. You were kidnapped and tortured.”

“I remember that, thanks, I was there.” Steve stared down at his hands. Then he glanced at Danny. “So, what, you’re trying to fix me?”

“I’m trying to get things back the way they were.” Danny wasn’t out to fix Steve. Steve wasn’t broken. He was just a little...dented. (The word Danny’s mind had supplied first was bent, but he didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to get his stupid hopes up.)

“I’d prefer it if you were trying to put the moves on me, actually.”

“Excuse me, what?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t need fixing. I’m fine. Not the first time I’ve been kidnapped and tortured. And you saved me, like you always do. If you want me to touch you, Danny, all you have to do is ask.”

Steve wasn’t fine, that was a lie, and both of them knew it, but for now Danny was going to let that go, because he was pretty sure Steve had just made a pass at him.

Danny had always been more for words. “Steve, I want you to touch me.”

Steve reached out, curled his hand around the back of Danny’s neck, leaned in, and kissed him.

Danny had been touch-starved. For months. Maybe years. And hadn’t even known it. Because when Steve’s mouth met his, he came alive. His skin tingled, and his heart pounded, and blood rushed in his ears, and it was like he’d been stranded alone on a desert island, and now he was coming home.

Steve kissed the way he did everything - intensely, thoroughly, and with laser-focus. Danny had gone from being alone to being the only man in Steve’s world.

When they had to break apart for air, Danny said, “That was kind of amazing, but you cannot distract me from the fact that you’re not really fine with kisses like that.”

Steve pressed his forehead against Danny’s and closed his eyes. “I’m better with you here.”

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne, his heightened sense of taste is part of what makes him an excellent baker

Fill 1/3: Lawyer AU

[nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com]

Rodney wasn’t sure how all the attorneys knew, but somehow everyone knew, and by the time he and John rolled into the office Monday morning, everyone was very carefully not saying anything. Bucky was gone, back to New York where he’d come from, and he’d taken Lorne’s heart with him. Nathan stepped up to assume the role as Daniel’s paralegal with barely a hitch - although it was apparent to just about anyone with eyes that Daniel didn’t like him but was too nice to say anything about it - and Lorne was...

Lorne. Working as efficiently as ever.

No, working more efficiently than ever.

And apparently stress-baking at home, because every morning for that first week Bucky was gone, Lorne showed up at the office with trays of gourmet pastries.

No one was sure what to say to Lorne. He’d had time off recently, so giving him another vacation was a transparent act of sympathy, and if the way he was working was any indication, sending him home with nothing to do might break him. John tried to act like everything was normal, everyone tried to act like everything was normal, but everyone was trying too hard, even Lorne.

On Thursday morning, while John was practically eating his weight in pains aux chocolat, he asked Lorne, “How did you get so good at baking? I mean - is it science? Is it instinct? Is it - is it like art?”

“My sense of taste, actually, sir.” Lorne was enabling John by handing him napkins so he could dust crumbs of flaky puff pastry off his tie.

“As in -?”

“I have a heightened sense of taste. It runs in the family. I can taste things more intensely than other people. So I know to add ingredients that most people cannot identify but that don’t go unnoticed. What I make tastes - unique. I give it all my own twist.” Lorne shrugged.

Rodney was intrigued by this, as a scientist. “So you can taste the individual ingredients in food?”

“For many food critics it’s a learned skill, the way a musician learns to hear harmonies in a song,” Lorne said. “But yes, I can.”

Rodney slid closer, and Lorne obligingly handed him a little plate, napkin, and pastry.

“So,” Rodney said, “if you went to a restaurant and ate a certain dish you liked, you could reverse-engineer it?”

“Sure.”

John descended from his pastry-induced euphoria long enough to say, “Hey. No.”

“No what?” Rodney widened his eyes, doing his best to look innocent.

Lorne got that expression on his face, the one where he was acting politely oblivious to personal lives being paraded in the office while he made bets and calculated odds and squirreled away information to win bets down the line.

“No, we can not take Lorne to dinner at that Italian place you like so you can get that tiramisu recipe you want. You don’t know how to make tiramisu anyway,” John said.

Lorne raised his eyebrows. “Which Italian restaurant?”

“Giovanni’s,” Rodney said.

“Oh, I already know how to make that.”

Rodney turned his wide-eyed expression on Lorne. “Say, would you -?”

“Get your own paralegal.” John poked Rodney in the shoulder. He flashed Lorne a smile. “Thanks, Lorne. Your pastry continues to be amazing. Thanks for sharing.” And he steered Rodney back to his office.

Rodney resigned himself to working for several hours and was about ready to beat his head against his own desk in frustration when he remembered. Lorne had made dozens and dozens of pastries. He took the leftovers to a homeless shelter every evening after work. A little bit of sugar would be perfect.

Rodney stood up, stretched, and headed into the staff kitchen.

He got there just in time to see a little girl in a fluffy red velvet dress take the very last pain au chocolat. She must have been one of Daniel’s tragic orphans or something. She turned wide, dark eyes up at Rodney.

[daria234.livejournal.com]

MCU, any m/m, scent

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Flarrowverse or DCU, any m/m, taste

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Once Upon a Time or Leverage or Chuck, any m/m or f/f, taste of an outdoor kiss

[daria234.livejournal.com]

MCU or Flarrowverse, any m/m, the sound of his voice

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Any, any, use of texture or temperature in a BDSM scene

FILL: Original fic, M/M, Touch kink, Nsfw

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

On this summer night, the air crackles with heat. A fireball blaze seems to burn white hot across the diamond star sky. He licks his lips, biting back a soft moan. He shivered, not from cold, rather from the warmth of desire melting his bones. Too hot to the touch, lust smolders and scorches through his body. His fingers clench tightly, then relax; pleasure sizzling through him while fingers brush up the throbbing length of his erection.

He nearly cries out in the night when the sandpaper rough pad of his Master’s thumb sweeps through the leaking slit. He was commended to be silent, to be good, and he will obey. Even as the feverish blaze burns his sugar sweet pink lips. He would not make a sound; he will make his owner proud of his behavior. But it was a struggle to contain the little moans as his Master curls his fingers around the throbbing length of his shaft, giving a few strokes which make his tummy quiver and his breath catch in his chest.

Sweat glistens on his skin, beading pearly white and warm; he opened his mouth to moan, only to bite his lip at the last second to obey the given command, keeping silent even as the warm hand brushed up from the base to the tip. A whimpers becomes trapped in his throat as satiny-soft fingers slip between his flesh and slide between his legs, entering him, twisting and thrusting and finding that one spot inside him that makes him nearly scream with pleasure.

Burning warmth cascades down his spine, steaming him up from the inside; hushing his pleasure moans my biting his lip plump and red, he is strong willed to be good for his beloved Master. Sweltering shudders spread through his body like a wild fire, the fever heat in his heart scorching him to the core when soft lips tenderly kiss him, lovingly whispering “Good boy.”

(END)

[tigriswolf]

Xena Warrior Princess, Xena + Lao Ma, she relearned gentleness with Lao Ma

[tigriswolf]

RPF, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, "His curls or his smell."

Prompt

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

Star Wars, any, the force touches everything.

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Any, any, “Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth.”
― Margaret Atwood, Der blinde Mörder

not a fill

[tigriswolf]

Oh, wow.

[aivix.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, "This tastes like chicken." "So what's wrong with it?" "It's macaroni and cheese."

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, any Winchester,



Mama Mama, can’t you hear?
Your demons are calling my name

Not a fill

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

oh crap. This has so much potential.

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, a dead language's lullaby

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, the most important sense

[4bdnsn0wflake.livejournal.com]

Any, any+/any, hearing a loved one's voice for the first time after a long separation

Fill: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Breakthrough in Aisle Nine (http://archiveofourown.org/works/9122128)

[4bdnsn0wflake.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, going to see his/her boy/girlfriend's favorite band in concert when [any] secretly hates that kind of music

[4bdnsn0wflake.livejournal.com]

Any, any(+/any), discovering a new food

[4bdnsn0wflake.livejournal.com]

Brooklyn 99, any characters, group hug!

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Any, any, a person's both half-starved for touch and simultaneously very leery about who they let touch them.

FILL: Supernatural, Sam & Dean, Cas, hurt/comfort

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

As an all-powerful angel, Castiel has never felt so helpless. He watches Dean...how careful the hunter is, how gentle. Soft shushing and kind reassures coming from him as he moves closer to his brother. Those bright blue eyes on Sam, not seeing a strong, brave hunter, but a vulnerable man ripped apart by the wrath of Hell. Skittish like a trapped animal, yet eyes locked only on Dean, gaze hopeful and longing, desperate for one touch to sooth the hurt inside of him. Castiel keeps his distance. He doesn’t wish to cause Sam any harm. He attempted to help by offering to heal Sam, but the screaming wail that was ripped from his lungs as he threw himself into the closet corner and curled up into a ball kept the angel at bay. Sam has not been the same since he got his soul back. Broken to the point he is held together by a thin thread, only Dean is allowed to come into his world. Therefore, Cas keeps back as Dean moves in, a smile meant only for Sam tracing his lips. Sam is still shaken, but like a little kid making grabby hands he welcomes Dean in, and the elder hunter wraps his arms around him, hugs him to his little brother to his chest, giving him all the reassurance he needs that everything is alright. The angel watches with curiously, wondering what magic Dean possesses that allows him to calm Sam in the ways he cannot. How Dean's fingers brush through Sam hair and make him smile just the tiniest bit. How Deans embraces offers Sam a heavenly grace that even the angel doesn’t possess.

(END)

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

Doctor who, any doctor, he never stops hearing them.