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RULES:

Leave an anon prompt in the comments
Answer an anon prompt in the comments

That's simple right? ^_^

THIS POST IS NOW CLOSED FOR NEW PROMPTS

You can still answer prompts though! there is no limit on that.

Have fun!

FILLED PROMPTS:

1. "Good for the Goose, Good for the Gander", Kate/Ollie - hair removal

3. "(Dis)assemble" - Guy

4. "Three Blind Mice", J'onn + Ollie + Guy - threesome

6. "The Weft and the Warp", Damian - fantasy

7. "Sun Sun Twenty-One", Ollie/Steph - cunnilingus

8. "In Vino Veritas", Kyle + Dick
drinking contest, Kyle/Dick

10. Bai in a box, all chars

Manhunter, java

Date: 2013-03-20 05:05 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Kate discovers she is a coffeesexual and has to experience the smell taste or sight of coffee in order to get off. Any pairing.

clouds in my coffee, part one (Kate/coffee)

Date: 2013-04-21 10:01 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
It had been a long morning in LA, and Manhunter was a mass of confused and irritated emotion as she zetaed back up to the Watchtower for a debrief. She had only been drinking an Americano in her local coffee shop, shifting in her seat as she tried to prep for a day of arraignments, which was the last thing she'd actually wanted to be doing on a gorgeous spring day.

Okay, okay, she had a touch of spring fever, but Kate was planning to embrace the now. She was, actually, planning how to rearrange her schedule so she could get away sooner (get back to bed sooner, fine, fucking her husband sooner, let's not be coy here), slurping the dregs of her coffee, at the time some fuckheads burst through the door yelling something about the Bloods getting up into the wrong person's business and how this was their territory.

The gangbangers would have been fine to deal with even without Kate ducking under the table to get into her suit, were it not for the goddamn weapon they'd had that zapped her. It had looked like alien tech, at a glance, and left her woozy for a moment or two. As it were, a couple got away from her, a couple more left moaning due to staff blasts across the floor, and Manhunter was eventually on the phone to Damon to ask him to cover all of her court appearances, there had been A Situation, I don't fucking know, tell the judge I got a concussion, it's probably true.

She had to get out of there, the smell was driving her insane, dark roast clinging in her nostrils, and she was wet as hell for no good goddamn reason.

Or maybe not no goddamn reason.

"Well," Dr. Smith said, and did he look a little amused by this? Kate was tempted to smack him. "It looks like the scrambler they have isn't working so well, which is good news for you. Whomever found it probably got it from a crashed Lincarean craft, that'd explain the malfunction."

"Is this dizzy bullshit going away?" asked Kate, blinking a few times. She'd felt blank, empty, since she'd gotten up here, all of the heat of the battle and need between her thighs having ebbed away. "What exactly did they do to me? And could be running around LA doing to random people, as we sit here..."

"Ay, chica, it's all good," someone said from the doorway, before a second voice chimed in.

"We picked them up in Westwood, rings detected extraterrestrial tech. Don't worry about it, sweetheart, just try to get better." Guy wandered into the medbay, a small green construct cup carrier in hand, as Kyle trailed after him.

"We brought you a latte," Kyle chirped as they drew in close, handing her over the biodegradable cup. "I know how you get if someone interrupts your morning constitutional...Kate. Kaaaaate, why are you looking at me like that?"

Kate had taken a sip, then bit her lip hard, squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to shove away some very vivid mental pictures of a Lantern sandwich, two pairs of hands all over her, the warmcool pressure of a construct, the--

"Okay, doctor, WHAT the fuck is wrong with my brain?" she spat out, to everyone else's surprise. Frustratingly, she ended up having to spell it out for him, her cheeks heating. "Coffee. Horny. Will not stop."

"I was getting there," said Dr. Smith, looking sort of put out. "The Lincarean pistol crossed neural pathways, linked things in your limbic centers that were there at the time of the shooting. Apparently, the taste and scent of coffee...and sex." He gave her a faintly disapproving look. She glared back; like fuck was she going to let him judge her for being in control of her own sexuality. Or, as it happened, not so much anymore.

There was silence for a long moment, before Kyle said, "Well, that's awk--" before Guy did something that sounded to Kate like stepping hard on his foot.

"How long is this going to last," she said, finally, voice low and dangerous, because god, it was starting to get to her again, the bittersweet taste of coffee on her tongue, lingering like she'd gone down on someone. Maybe it was stupid to have slept with or fooled around with her friends, or maybe she needed to never have coffee again in public.

Dr. Smith shrugged. "Hard to say," he admitted. "You may just need to train new pathways, relink old ones. It could have a serious impact on your sex life--"

"Think we should probably go," Guy murmured, with Kyle making a soft assent. It was just as well they tiptoed out, because what Dr. Smith said next had Kate turning the hot beverage into a projectile.

"You mean I probably can't GET OFF without this shit?!"

((to be continued))

clouds in my coffee, part two (Kate/coffee)

Date: 2013-04-21 11:03 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Despite all potential evidence to the contrary previously, Oliver Queen was getting fucking sick of coffee running his life.

Of having to hole up with Mia and an espresso machine in the other side of the apartment when Kate had to absolutely not be distracted in the mornings, just so they could get a quick cup in before work and school.

Of brushing his teeth in his office bathroom before he went home so his wife wouldn't jump him (this happened, and it was fun only the first half dozen times, seriously).

Of the fact that he couldn't kiss Kate anymore, deep in the fog and fire of passion, without that unmissable taste and tang coming along with it. Not even when she'd just had him in her mouth, brought him to his knees with some serious tongue talent; not even kissing her after he'd knelt between her legs and made her scream. It was always there, in the background or layered fine across the top.

They'd tried, of course, to make it work otherwise, but even when they seemed close to having a breakthrough, it never seemed to last. She was stuck this way until her brain rewired itself, which could take months, even years.

It wasn't like Kate and Ollie weren't able to talk through it, to express frustration, to figure things out on a psychological level. It was the emotional level that was the problem, and it wasn't like either of them were particularly good at getting that right. Even when they put in an effort, they were still raging against the invisible bonds that restricted them, including this one.

Poetic, and probably apt to both personalities. It just didn't get them anywhere.

"Look, Ollie, I think you're going at this the wrong way," Mar'i said to him, sipping her cafeteria smoothie through a long curly straw. "You're taking it from a negative approach rather than a positive one."

"But it is a negative."

Mar'i sighed and pursed her lips around the end of the straw for a moment, chewing on it a couple of times as if she were biting back retorts. "Don't whine, Oliver," she said finally, and made a face back at him as he stuck out his tongue at her. "That's the first thing. Second is that it's pretty sound psychology--if you're going to train someone to do something, to make those neural connections, positive reinforcement always, always gets the best results."

Ollie considered this for a second, then sighed. "I'm just so goddamn sick of coffee," he admitted. "I mean, yeah, it could be worse, it could be like, I don't know, needing to wear a pony tail and riding crop or something--not judging, just REALLY not my thing--to have fulfilling sex. But I miss how things were. I want it to be like that again, and both of us know it can't."

"Then maybe you need to make what it is now really damn good," Mar'i said, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. "Make this just as special."

"Yeah," Ollie said, and folded his hands in front of him on the table, staring down at them, at skin and callus and nails and her ring. Hers. "Actually, Mar'i...I think I might have something."

((TBC))

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