Monday - Manners
Dec. 7th, 2009 06:47 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHi everyone! I'm ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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
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
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no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 12:57 pm (UTC)Murder is an Intimacy [Watchmen, Gen, Adrian Veidt]
Date: 2009-12-15 06:00 pm (UTC)This time though he's making an exception. After all this time he's not committing mass murder, hell as far as the rest of the world is concerned Ms. March won't even be murdered. She'll die of an unfortunate drug overdose.
He tells her that in an attempt to comfort her, even though he knows she won't hear him in her drugged state. Perhaps he is simply trying to comfort himself. He doesn't like killing people if the need for their death isn't clear but unfortunately a clear reason for Ms. March's death will never come to light.
Still good-manners dictate that one tell the truth in such intimate situations as this so just as her last breath leaves her he leans over and whispers the reason into her ear. He tells her of how her death will serve a purpose more grand than her life and how in death she will assure that the secrets of how the earth was saved never come to light.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 01:34 pm (UTC)no fic
Date: 2009-12-07 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 01:34 pm (UTC)this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
Date: 2009-12-07 06:12 pm (UTC)It's not bad because of the blood. It's because now Dean has the feeling of Castiel's hand on his chin, and he's not likely to forget it.
"Out," he says. "Come back in through the door. Knock."
"Very well." Cas is gone and there's a knock at the door. Just like that. It's a good thing Dean hadn't gone back to shaving, because he jumps eleven feet that time.
-
It's worse when Dean's working out, on the bench press in a wife beater with his eyes squinted up at the ceiling, press up, back down, press up, back down, and press hello that's not a ceiling that's Cas and the barbell comes down and the wind's knocked out of him.
He's had the wind knocked out of him plenty of times. This is worse. It's worse because Castiel's helping him up, lifting the weight off of him and then sliding his hands around Dean's back, steadying his ribcage, Cas' human heart beating next to his for an instant.
"Some warning next time," Dean mutters when he can speak again.
"There was no place to knock." Castiel looks back at the glass doors to the gym, propped open on the balmy day.
Dean stalks off toward the locker room. "Don't follow me," he warns. He has to go shower off the almost-embrace and the sweat. It's a while before he comes back out.
-
The worst is when Dean's alone and miserable, all tapped out of energy after a fight that came down to nothing and all his anger drained into self-loathing.
"Knock," he roars before Castiel can say anything.
It's the worst because he knows Castiel's come for a reason. And whatever it is, that reason is not to comfort him, to touch him again or to put the arms around him that make him forget, for an instant, that the rest of the world with all its craptastic problems doesn't exist.
-
Castiel finally knocks.
Dean lets him in. "What's that look for, Cas?"
"It's frustrating," he says. "To knock. When I want to see you and I have to wait for you to answer the door."
"Welcome to life," Dean says with a shrug. "It's frustrating." He turns, swaggers away a few paces. "So why did you want to see me?"
Castiel is silent.
"What?" Dean looks over his shoulder.
"I just wanted to see you," Castiel says. "I don't have a reason." He has the same look on his face that Dean gets whenever he realizes how much Castiel has gotten under his skin.
It's satisfying. But it demands more.
"You've learned something," he says, husky, walking up to him and touching his chin right where Castiel had touched his, that first time.
Castiel's whole body vibrates, and he turns dark eyes up to Dean's. "Yes," he says, "I think I have."
"Good," Dean says.
It is good. And it gets even better.
Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:Re: this is slashy, and sappy, and sort of random.
From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-08 12:20 am (UTC)Hardison took a step back, raising his hands slowly, as his eyes shifted left, looking at Eliot like he was completely nuts. “Please be polite to the man with the gun.”
In a flash that Hardison could barely follow, Eliot had gotten in close to the guy, done something that suggested he'd hit him since the guy staggered back, and then was standing next to Hardison again. He pulled a cartridge out of the gun and then tossed the two pieces, gun and ammo, off in opposite directions.
“Doesn't have a gun now.”
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Date: 2009-12-07 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-12-07 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-07 07:40 pm (UTC)“Aww, mom and dad want some privacy,” Hardison said as the door closed.
“Yeah, to plan each other’s funerals,” Eliot answered, flopping down on the length of Nate’s couch and surfing the obscene number of sports channels.
“You’re taking up the whole couch,” Parker observed.
“I got somewhere you can sit, darlin’,” he replied with a leer.
“No!” Hardison called from the table. “No, y’all… just… no.”
“No what?” Eliot asked, trying to sound innocent.
“We are not having sex at Nate’s place!”
Eliot pulled Parker to sit on his groin. “Who invited you this time?”
Parker giggled, she loved it when Eliot and Alec got like this. It was always the BEST sex when it started with them snarking at each other. She wiggled just a little to get comfortable, Eliot hissed and she felt him get hard under her.
“We are guests. You do not have sex in someone else’s house like that.”
“How would you prefer we do it?” Eliot asked, feigning attention on the sports news. “Is there a Ms. Manners page dedicated to the proper way to christen someone’s couch for them? In fact, you should google it. I bet there probably is.” He turned his attention to Parker, who was still wiggling her delectable ass on his dick. “That woman has advice for everything.” He trailed a hand up over her thigh and had to force himself not to groan when she parted her thighs.
Alec was muttering something about how Eliot had been raised by wolves, but his fingers were typing.
Parker did That Thing where she stretched and wiggled and made the smallest little moan. She did it on purpose. Eliot knew that she did it on purpose, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her down into a fierce, claiming kiss.
“Ms Manners doesn’t touch having sex in someone else’s house. Nor is she willing to touch on polygamy. So basically we are in uncharted terri- CUT THAT OUT! You are on Nate’s couch! He told you to behave yourselves! Y’all should be ashamed.”
Parker sat up again, Eliot following because he was unwilling to stop mouthing her nipple. “Can’t we just have… like… polite sex?”
Alec’s vision narrowed down to Eliot’s mouth working Parker’s pink nipple between his teeth, her pale skin against his dark-stubbled chin. “Um…”
Parker laughed the way she did when there was some serious mischief afoot and she got to be part of it. She threw her shirt off and started pulling up Eliot’s three tee shirts – and seriously, why didn’t he just get a sweatshirt like a normal person? – and arched her back the way she knew drove them both crazy.
“Damn it,” Alec whispered as he stood and walked to the two of them. “Y’all better be, like, mindin’ your Ps and Qs.”
"Get over here and I'll mind yours for you," Eliot said.
"Stop talking with your mouth full," Parker teased.
He tossed his shirt to the floor. “And tell me that the cushions have slip covers that we can take to our own dry cleaner?”
No one answered him, but the way Parker just swallowed his cock as soon as she could reach it, he didn’t really care so much.
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Date: 2009-12-07 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-12-07 06:25 pm (UTC)"You know, you're supposed to kneel before royalty," Arthur drawls, sarcasm thick in his voice.
Merlin looks older now, scruff adorning his cheek and a hint of thin, wiry muscle showing through his threadbare top. His smile, though, is the same, eyes lighting up, and Arthur can't help but smile back.
"You never remembered it before," the King mutters, "I don't know why I'd expect it to be any different now."
Merlin, slow and sure, glancing coyly through his lashes, lowers one knee after the other, head bowing slightly.
Arthur's breath hitches in his chest as his mind fills with all sorts of filthy, filthy things. Things he hasn't had a chance to do in over a year.
"Sire," Merlin replies, with all of the usual defiance.
Arthur stands, heart thumping in his chest. "Welcome back."
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Date: 2009-12-07 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-12-07 02:54 pm (UTC)part 1/2
Date: 2009-12-08 12:38 pm (UTC)---
"So." Mac shifted in his seat as the curtain dropped for the intermission.
"Yes. So." Danny nodded.
"What do you think?"
"Okay, I guess."
"Is this something Stella would like, you think?"
"I suppose?" Danny said, stretching his leg as far as the seat in front of him would permit. Around them, people were standing up and haring off in search of refreshments and toilets. "The seat isn't bad. The view to the stage is relatively unimpeded."
"Why are we watching this again?"
"Because Detective I'm-an-opera-buff-smitten-with-Stella-and-you-owe-me-a-goddamn-favor from New Jersey apparently collects?"
"Now I remember."
"I still don't understand why you dragged me into this mess. I don't owe him anything. And at the moment I don't owe Stella anything, either."
"That's true," Mac said, standing up. He looked down at Danny who was still sitting and gestured for the younger man to stand up, too. "You owe me, though."
"Owe you for what?"
"Drinks?" Mac offered, as they walked down to the bar.
"No can do, boss. I can pay for the drinks myself."
"Right, of course," Mac said. He looked a bit subdued and distracted, he seemed to have missed the right turn leading to the bar room.
"Bar's that way."
"We're not going to the bar."
"We're not?"
"No."
"Okay?" Danny drawled, following his boss curiously. "So."
"Yes. So."
"What do I owe you for exactly?" Danny asked, as they walked down a slightly deserted corridor.
Mac stopped and turned around to face his charge, a small smile playing on his lips. He then walked a short distance, to a door with an "Out of Order" sign hanging off a handle. He took out a small key and slid it home.
He led Danny in. "You owe me for this, I think," Mac said as he locked the door behind them.
---
part 2/2
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Date: 2009-12-07 02:55 pm (UTC)