Monday - Manners

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Hi everyone! I'm trinityday and I'll be your guest host this week.

Today's theme is manners.

Ps & Qs. Social graces. Poise and deportment. Some people's default mode is to be polite. Others... not so much. So tell us about your characters following proper etiquette, their mishaps, everything that has to do with manners in general.

For the sake of our code monkeys, please remember not to go crazy and to limit yourself to 3 prompts per genre and 5 prompts in a row total. If your prompts get answered, then feel free to leave some more later in the day.

Spoilers are not allowed in your prompts until a week (7 days) has passed from the original air date. If there are spoilers in your fic, please remember to warn people by bolding and leaving at least 3 spaces.

Also, remember to thank your fic provider. Not only is it the nice thing to do, but it often helps encourage them to write even more.

The proper formatting for leaving your prompts is as follows, the third example being for crossovers:

Harry Potter, Lily/James, it's polite to reciprocate oral sex
Doctor Who, Doctor/Donna, the correct form of greeting on Earth in the 73rd century
Torchwood/Highlander, Methos/Jack, the proper etiquette for attending your own funeral

If none of today's prompts catch your eye, there's always the Lonely Prompts list to look through.

theme=manners

Comments

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, Lily/James, it's polite to return the favour when it comes to oral sex

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Torchwood/Highlander, Methos/Jack, the proper etiquette for attending your own funeral

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Doctor/Donna, the correct form of greeting on Earth in the 73rd century

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Dark Angel, Max/Alec, Manticore's version of charm school

[trinityday.livejournal.com]

Pirates of the Caribbean, Elizabeth/author's choice, table manners

Was this what you were thinking? ;)

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

“On the table? This table? You’re joking!” Elizabeth stared at the enormous structure, in the still more enormous Hall of the Brethren.

“Not at all,” Jack said, with a chuckle. “Saw ‘em goin’ at it with me own eight-year-old eyes. Gave me a start, I can tell you. Thought Teague was offering Mum violence, ‘til she laughed. Good thing she did – if I’d broke in at such a moment he’d’ve had me hide.”

“Oh, dear! How awful!” Elizabeth gaped at Jack, feeling her color rising.

“It was then. Not so much now.” He reached up and stroked her cheek with one long, cool finger. “Perhaps you’d like a brief demonstration, my liege? In my role as maîtresse en titre?”

She blushed hotter, and pursed her lips trying not to laugh. What a scoundrel he was! She glanced at the table, at the edges of the Hall, replete with shadows. Then straight at Jack. “I think not. Too many ghosts – and maybe more than ghosts, as you’ve pointed out. But perhaps a lengthier demonstration, in my quarters?”

“You do have a table.” His eyes gleamed.

“I have a bed, too,” Elizabeth replied, a little tartly, but grinned and led the way.


~.~

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam and/or Dean/Castiel, "It's not polite to touch a angel there in public."

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, the proper form of worship

Ooh sexytiems!

[mad-maeglin.livejournal.com]

(i think i got a little blashphemous here. whoops.)

It was as if Gabriel’s hand awoke every single nerve ending as it trailed across his waist, sneaking up higher into his shirt. It sent every fibre of him singing and echoing his badly disguised gasps, fingers trying to get a grip on dirty bathroom wall behind him. His mind whirled as something hot and hungry flared in the archangel’s eyes, and he swallowed hard as Gabriel slowly sunk unto his knees.

Sam could not bear to look away, even as Gabriel’s eyes shuttered closed, his sinful mouth open and breathing upon his zippered crotch. “Our Father created us first.” He said, his voice raspy and echoing in the dimly lit bathroom, even whispered, it still thundered over the din of the bar outside. “But he created you second. And told us that day, to love you as we did Him. To worship as we always have and to teach you how.”

Gabriel’s eyes flickered open, his eyes bright and terrible and locked with Sam’s. “Shall I show you how?”

[myfloralbonnet.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary, Ashley Magnus/Henry Foss, bad manners and awkward situations

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam (or girl!Sam)/Gabriel and/or Dean (or girl!Dean)/Castiel, how not to act the morning after

[munnin-odanin.livejournal.com]

DCU, Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson or Tim Drake, How to act like a Wayne in public

I turned it into gen! Sorry! I hope you like it anyway.

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

It's one of the first things that Tim notices, the many subtleties that separate Batman from Bruce Wayne. When he watches Batman through a camera lens he can see the poise and grace and power that runs through the man, along with the fury and anger and fight that seems to go with it. When little Timmy Drake shakes Bruce Wayne's hand at a social function, all Tim can see is glazed eyes and a cocky smile and a swagger to Bruce's walk, He's shallow and vain and stupid.

Tim watches and takes note and learns even though he already knew this lesson. Years of boarding school and socialite parties taught him nothing else if how to wear a mask.

Not a physical mask, not like the domino mask he eventually takes as Robin. But the masks Tim wears in everyday life, the ones that make people think he's normal, that he's safe, that he's sane. It's the mask of 'Brucie', and, eventually, the mask that is Timothy Wayne.

He's modelled after Brucie, but with a harder edge, because Tim figures that teenage rebellion should be a factor at his age. Timothy Wayne is a dramatic yawn at a boring party. He's a sharp smile and a vaguely insulting remark. He wears expensive designer suits and style's his hair and follows all the latest trends.

Brucie and Timothy go to parties together, Brucie's arm around his young 'ward' and a neat little row of businessmen to shake hands with it. They both smile, but Timothy's is a little more edged. Brucie flirts with the hostess, Timothy flirts with the pretty waitress.

Some days, Timothy feels sick. He feels like the mask is stuck to his face. When he feels an insult curl around his tongue in response to a remark Cassie makes. Or when he flirts a little too easily with the prostitutes that Robin is questioning. When the cut of a tailored suit feels more comfortable than loose jeans, or even worse, when it feels better than kevlar.

He knows Bruce is watching, he knows Bruce can see it, how hard he struggles to get back into 'just Tim' after Timothy's been out to play. He knows because Bruce gives him a soft look, and squeezes his shoulder, and lets him stay up all night training.

It gets harder as time goes on, to pull away. Because Timothy Wayne doesn't care that all his family and friends are dead. Tim always thought it would be Robin that he would lose himself to, because Robin is safe and strong.

He wants to ask Bruce, if he struggles between Batman, Brucie and just Bruce. But he doesn't because he doesn't know how.

And then Bruce is dead, along with Brucie. Batman is still there, but he's not the same, especially not when he takes Robin away.

And suddenly Timothy Wayne is all he has left.

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, Arthur realizes there really isn't a proper way for a servant to tell their prince they'd rather not have sex with him.

Less actual sex than I intended...

[alcetis.livejournal.com]

To be honest, it had never even occurred to him that Merlin might not want to bed Arthur.

He was Crown Prince after all, handsome, intelligent, brave... What wasn't to like?

And Merlin... Well, Merlin was just a servant. Okay, maybe not just a servant, but he didn't exactly have much rank, and from Arthur's experience, Princely favour was very, very sought after.

However, Merlin's mouth was hesitant under his. And Arthur realized that there really isn't a proper way for a servant to tell their prince they'd rather not have sex with him. After all, when had Arthur's birth ever influenced Merlin before?

Which was rather embarrassing, really. Because what was he supposed to do now, with his hands gripping Merlin's hips and his back pressed to the wall he had pulled them against? Ask permission?

He pushed Merlin cautiously away, trying not to show that he was panting slightly, heart pittering in his chest (which was kind of pathetic, what was he, some innocent milk maiden?) and blushing like an idiot.

"You don't-" He began, but Merlin's eyes were shining in such a lovely way that he felt his words get all tangled up. "I mean, if you don't, because I don't, I mean, I do, but I don't want to, if you don't want to, but I'll still want to, it's just I don't have to, that is-"

Merlin seemed to take pity on him. "I just- I just wasn't quite sure if it was real," he admitted, smiling sheepishly.

Arthur laughed, and with a growl pulled Merlin's mouth to his again.

This time the manservant responded with much more enthusiasm.

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

author's choice, angels (SPN, Good Omens, Biblical, etc), proper care and grooming of wings.

Good Omens - Care and Grooming OR Why Crowley takes twice as long to get ready as Aziraphale

[partofthequeue2.livejournal.com]

(A/N: Sorry, there was a typo in the last version)
----------------------------------------------------

Technically, the wings of all angels, fallen or not, are the same. 20-foot wingspans, covered in long white feathers.

It’s just that when they fell, they ended up in a place full of brimstone and sulphur and ash. A lot of ash. It’s hard to keep wings clean when there is that much ash floating around. Demons had to come up with a careful system of combs and shampoos to keep them clean.

Crowley has a long row of conditioners in his shower to keep his feathers long, strong and healthy looking. He has a complete collection of combs* and a complex arrangement of mirrors so he can see what he’s doing. He washes them every week, and spends a day every month doing the fiddly bits.

Aziraphale’s wings have not been thoroughly cleaned since 1950, and Crowley swears the book-dust is giving him asthma.

*Arranged by order of size, with the long one to reach the little feathers in the middle of his back at one end, and the small one for detailing at the other.

[myfloralbonnet.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary/Doctor Who, Helen Magnus & Jack Harkness (or Helen Magnus/Jack Harkness), it wasn't the proper way to introduce one's self, but that didn't mean it wasn't fun

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

DCU, Zachary Zatara/Tim Drake, boarding school etiquette

Bwhahahaha! TAG!

[munnin-odanin.livejournal.com]

“Why do you do that?” Zach demanded as he did up the last button.

“Do what?” Tim asked mildly, sitting on the bed cross-legged, his chin resting on is hand as he watched Zach intently.

“Watch me dress!” Zach replied pointedly, turning his back as he shimmed into his trousers. “It’s just...creepy. A gentleman would look away. It’s only polite.”

Tim’s eyebrow shot up, an expression that would be lost behind a mask. “A gentleman? When do you learn to be one of those?”

“I did go to a private boarding school after all.” Zach announced haughtily as he set to work on is bowtie, glaring at Tim’s reflection in the mirror. “When you share a room with five other boys one must adhere to strict etiquette or everything falls into chaos.”

“Let me get this straight,” Tim started, slowly unfolding himself the bed. “I can have mad, passionate sex with you - all over your kitchen bench, share a shower with you, and fall asleep naked with you but can’t watch you get dressed?” He stretched and yawned, arching is lithe body back in a way he knew showed it off to its best advantages, trying to hide a smile as Zach when red with the effort of not to stare at him in the mirror. “You’re a weird one.”

“You can talk! I’ve never seem someone so happy to get naked at the drop of a hat.” Zach’s attempt to sound indignant came off somewhat more as flustered.

“Really?” Tim asked, as he started to search for his clothes. “Remind me to introduce you to my brother.”

Zack scrunched up his nose at the thought of Dick naked. It was far too easy to imagine. “Are all you bat-brats so immodest?”

Tim gave him a long, withering look. “Not all of us have the pleasure of being able to swap our clothes with a magic word. Sometimes people’s lives depend on how fast we can change in or out of costume. Modesty just isn’t a relevant issue.”

Zach arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me Batman makes you practice stripping?” The words were out of his mouth before he’d had time to think too hard about that mental image and instantly regretted it. Batman holding a stopwatch as Tim and Dick raced to get naked... What was brain bleach backwards again?

Tim shrugged, fishing his tights up from behind the lamp and sitting to slide them on. “Not as such but he did train us not to be aware but not self-conscious about our surrounding while getting changed. It was more about protection our identities than anything else so in the cave or training together it really wasn’t an issue.”

Zach shuddered as the next metal image filtered though his head – Batman (dressed in nothing but the cowl) supervising Nightwing and Robin train (wearing nothing but their masks.)

“Zack? Are you alright? You’ve gone an interesting shade of red.”

Zack pushed his hair back out of his face, trying to not to look as embarrassed as he felt. “We should be getting to the Tower. Wouldn’t do to be late.”

“Wouldn’t do to be half naked either. Did you see where the rest of my clothes went?”

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

DCU, Babs/Dick, Damian "It's not polite to stare."

[angel-gidget.livejournal.com]

He knows it makes Babs a little uncomfortable, but Dick refuses to turn away. He won't hide it from Damian when he wants to kiss his girlfriend or offer her an extra-long hug. Even though he knows it makes Damian uncomfortable too.

Because there's a point to it all, impolite as it may be. It's part of what he's been trying to teach his new little brother all along. This is what love looks like. This is how to show affection. This is what you will have, some day, when you've learned how tear all those barriers down.

It's only a matter of time.

[myfloralbonnet.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary, The Five (Helen Magnus, Nikola Tesla, John Druitt, James Watson, Nigel Griffin), "Good breeding consists in concealing how much we think of ourselves, and how little we think of the other person." (Mark Twain)

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

DCU, Jason/Tim, the proper way to give head

[modestroad.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Scott/Jean/Emma, bedroom manners

[alcimines.livejournal.com]

Rude and Lewd (X-Men, Scott/Jean/Emma, bedroom manners)

Betsy's eyes snapped open in utter shock. It was late, and she had been peacefully sleeping in her room...

Then Betsy let out a low moan and curled into a tight ball as a wave of sensation washed over her. She was still trying to recover when the second orgasm hit her. That one made her to convulse so hard that it knocked her completely out of her bed.

On the floor, tangled in her blankets and sheets, Betsy frantically tried to make a telepathic signal, but the interference was too intense.

The third orgasm was shorter, but strangely sharp. Typically male. That was Scott, of course, Betsy thought groggily to herself as she scrambled to her knees and reached for the cell-phone on her nightstand. She didn't use it very often, but this was an emergency.

Jean was given to quick, multiple orgasms -- something Betsy didn't know, but was now learning. Jean's second climax of the night made Betsy's entire body clench. In the process, she banged her head against the edge of the nightstand. Shaking her head to clear it, Betsy frantically punched in Scott's number. Scott was the only one who would actually pick up a phone in the midst of a threesome.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up!" Betsy begged desperately.

"Hello?" Scott's voice said hesitantly. He sounded distracted.

"Oh, for pity's sake, Scott!" Emma voice moaned in the background.

"Damn it, Scott!" Betsy yelled into the cell-phone. "You're telepathic gestalt is leaking! And everything is being magnified! Tell those two sluts of yours to..."

That was when Jean and Emma had a simultaneous orgasm. Actually, that's a rather easy trick for a telepath to manage.

When Betsy finally came to her senses, the cell-phone was laying under the bed as Scott's voice said, "Hello? Hello? Betsy? Hello?"

Betsy reached under the bed and grabbed her cell-phone. Putting it to her ear, she said raggedly, "This is really very rude."

[sunsetdawn20.livejournal.com]

Pirates of the Caribbean, James Norrington/author's choice, second nature

[sunsetdawn20.livejournal.com]

House MD, Chase, becoming House

[falconwhitaker.livejournal.com]

Becoming House

The hardest part of becoming House was abandoning his manners. No good little Catholic boy behaves like House, oh no: a good little Catholic boy is quiet, polite, tactful, speaks when he's spoken to. Chase had tried to shake off that attitude when he left seminary school, but it was hard. It was like trying to pull up a tree with his bare hands: those beliefs and behaviours were so deeply rooted into his mind and soul that digging them out would have left empty inside, a shell of a human being.

It wasn't until he started working with House that he realised what he could fill that void with: a harsh, tactless, devil-may-care attitude, the conviction that he was always right, the ability not to give a flying shit about anything if he tried. And he wanted that, because not caring was looked so much easier.

It was still hard to get rid of his good little Catholic boy manners - sometimes he relapsed into them when he least expected - but every day, they faded a little more, their roots in his heart loosened, and he became just a little bit more like House.

Just like he wanted to be.

[sunsetdawn20.livejournal.com]

Spooks, Lucas North, hospitality in Russian prisons

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

DCU, Tim Drake/Tam Fox, Tam doesn't know what sort of manners are expected when dealing with crazy ninja assassins like Timothy Drake-Wayne-Draper

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, As Court Sorcerer Merlin needs to learn a bit more about court etiquette. Arthur takes it on himself to teach him.

[mariana-oconnor.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, no one has ever expected Arthur to say 'please' before

Expectations, Merlin/Arthur, R

[rocketgirl2.livejournal.com]

Merlin’s known Arthur for long enough that he knows what to expect. For instance, he doesn’t think Arthur will ever actually be nice to him face-to-face, because a prince is not friends with a servant. Nor does he presume that Arthur will acknowledge Merlin for helping him out of many a tight place, because a knight of Camelot likes to believe that he can do things on his own.

Then again, no one, has ever expected Arthur to say please before, and look where that belief has ended up.

The belief has, for future reference, been lost somewhere amongst Arthur’s bedclothes; slipped quietly into the realm of false assumptions sometime in between when Merlin’s mouth touched his and the place they are now, which has Arthur begging like he’s Merlin’s bitch and oh, Merlin likes that. Call it natural talent, call it intuition, but somehow Merlin knows just what to do to make Arthur moan and scream and beg even though he’s never done this before. Knows how to make him come, too, but he’s not doing that just yet. He’s going to tease Arthur for as long as he possibly can; would maybe even string him along and then never give him the satisfaction were it not for the fact that, come morning, Arthur’s in charge again. Merlin can get away with this because it feels so good. If he leaves Arthur feeling unsatisfied, though, there will be hell to pay.

Add this to the list of things Merlin never expected of Arthur: the prince squirming underneath him, trying to increase the friction as Merlin brushes his fingers over him oh-so-gently. The whimper that fights its way through Arthur’s lips is just pure beauty, and Merlin decides to give him more for that, increasing the pressure just enough to make it noticeable.

“More,” Arthur gasps, but Merlin doesn’t oblige; they’ve just started, really, and Merlin hasn’t gotten a chance to fuck the dignity right out of Arthur like he wants to, like he’s going to before the night is out. So he presses his lips to Arthur’s and finds his prince a mess of tongue and teeth and saliva and decides that maybe he’d better get on with things, for his own safety.

He skims his other hand sensually down Arthur’s back and begins loosening him up—Arthur has fallen mostly silent but for the occasional gasp, and feels a smile creep onto his face at the fact that he has done this to Arthur.

He pulls his fingers out of Arthur and positions the tip of his erection there instead, but then hesitates—Arthur still isn’t saying anything, and is it possible that he’s changed his mind?

Merlin doesn’t want to spoil the mood by asking—it would be one of those moves, so typical to Merlin, that Arthur always lectures him about afterward—but he thinks there may not be anything else to do. Thankfully, his uncertainty is resolved by Arthur’s moan of, “Merlin, please.”

And there’s nothing that can be much more clear that that, so Merlin does.

[munnin-odanin.livejournal.com]

DCU, Batclan (preferable slash), proper etiquette for the morning after the sex pollen incident

Allergies, Bruce/Dick/Jason/Tim, PG

[ms-duck.livejournal.com]

There were rules and manners for waking up after a pollen orgy.

First, one apologizes for their actions. If the 'wronged' believes they haven't been wronged then the next step is to snuggle back in.

Unless the 'wronged' party is Tim, then the offenders must immediately skip to the snuggling or there will be angst and trauma.

But after three instances Bruce could safely say that all of his boys were dealing well with the pollen.

The next step was to go down for breakfast. After eating it was proper for all parties to spend the next day or two as close as they could stand and then drift back to their normal routines.

He was rather happy that with each instance he and the boys got closer.

The final rule for these situations was to never directly refer to the situation.

Unless you were Jason, who broke most every rule anyway.