#silk fic

[pebblysand]

Three Sentence Fic - TGW/Silk - Will/Celeste - Will/Alicia - ‘Love’

A/N: I’m not going to be able to update Martha this weekend (running late, sorry ^^) so I’m putting this out instead. This is a little crossover thing-y that found its way into a scene in chapter 5 and I thought I’d explore it on Will and TGW’s side. I wrote it and then sent it to Orbythesea who said she liked it, so I thought what the heck, let’s make it this weekend’s little treat! I hope you like it! (Also, the words Will quotes are from one of her fics, Vices, if you haven’t read it, go check it out!). 

There’s actually a follow-up written from Martha’s POV (Blondie in this, for TGW people who don’t know wtf I’m going on about), which I’ll upload here tomorrow! 

Of course, if you have fics prompts, feel free to send them my way, I need to distract myself from the fucking novel I’m writing :D. 

Happy Saturday!

i.

"You're moping,"

"I'm not,"

It's a little after eleven when they settle into yet another crowded bar in central London, immediately heading up to the counter to get their drinks (wine for Celeste, beer for him); they're here on firm business (a client - something, - he can't remember, doesn't really care) and all he knows is that he's so hungry and exhausted (and jet lagged, and hungover), that he thinks he might as well sit on a stool while they wait for their order, locates a free one next to a cute twenty-something who's ordering four different kinds of pints at once (he calls her Blondie, in his head), squeezes in between her and the corner of the bar ready to hop on his seat, Celeste barely fitting by his side -

"You can go try to find somewhere better to sit," he offers, because he's not a dick but kind of wants her to go away -

Celeste ignores him, as per usual (she ignored him yesterday when he reminded her that he was broke, and yet again last night when he said she really shouldn't do another line - of course, he turned out to be right: she predictably crashed in the early hours of the morning and they ended up missing their plane), but he thinks her reaction to his three little words this afternoon might have been worse, actually, figures he'd rather be friendly ignored than friendly mocked -

"What do you know about love, anyway?" Celeste asks, watching him as he finally hops on his stool, his arm over the counter; Blondie's drinks arrive, filled to the rim, a bit of alcohol escapes onto his shirt - he doesn't acknowledge it, keeps his focus on Celeste, because actually yeah, he knows a thing or two about -

"It's apparently like wanting to see someone else open a Christmas present more than you want to open your own," he quotes Alicia from memory, making a point to look her in the eye as he does it, making a point to himself, too. And yeah, okay, maybe he actually is kind of a dick, but he's definitely felt that about someone before (even if it might not be her) and they've been on and off for a couple of years, now, plus she'd just given him a blowjob as an apology for missing the plane so it felt sort of right, in a way, at least -

Celeste laughs, again, like that's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard, but he's too exhausted to really defend himself. Her attention span is pretty much ridiculous, anyway, so her mind is already gone somewhere else, her gaze falling onto a spot over his shoulder - onto Blondie, he realizes as he shifts around, catches her staring at him before she averts her eyes, pocketing her change and glancing out to a tall, blond guy who smiles largely at her, standing next to another table filled with people - ‘Blondies,’ he corrects.

She sighs the shortest of sighs before she returns the guy's smile (he only sees it on her features because she's so close, her lips painted a very bright shade of red) and squeezes out of her spot carrying the four pints between her fingers with unmatched expertise and: "Sorry," she apologizes in that British, not-so-apologetic tone of hers, and he's not sure what she's not-so-sorry for, exactly (pushing past them, spilling drinks on him, staring) but somehow, he realizes that's exactly what he'd like to say to Celeste, right now: sorry I said something I'm not sure I mean, he thinks, and wants to take it back, except yeah, if there's one thing he's actually learned from Alicia, it's that 'I love you' is not the kind of thing you can ever take back.

Thanks very much for reading!

[case-of-traxits]

I cannot hear Pillow Talk by Zayn without thinking of the inn scene or the reunion scene on the boat in Silk. Can't wait to read more and hope you're well. Congrats on being awesome re: your driving exam :))))

I’ll be honest with you here, part of what took damn near a year to reply to this (I’ve had my license for about a year now, which is how I know), was that I always meant to write you a short ficlet because I had never listened to Pillowtalk by Zayn before this ask!  But man, the pacing and rhythm of that song is freaking fantastic for exactly those scenes!

So then I finally wrote you a ficlet. And I never got around to replying to this ask!  So here.  Have it very very late, but trust me, that song has been put on repeat for a few ficlets and scenes and plotting sessions by now.  Thank you so much for suggesting it! <3

Sokka was laying in Zuko's bed, flat on his stomach, a book open under him as he dragged his fingers lightly over the pages, following the words as he read them.  Silks spilled across the bed, and Zuko glanced up from the maps he'd been looking at to watch as Sokka stuck the tip of his tongue out of his mouth.  Zuko hesitated a moment, then left the maps on the table and headed over to see what word Sokka hadn't recognized this time.

Sokka looked up, and he dropped his hand to cover the page before he rolled over onto his back to look up at Zuko.

Zuko's eyes narrowed.

"What's up?" Sokka asked, voice bright and cheerful.  Too bright, Zuko decided after a second.

"You had that look," Zuko finally murmured, and he dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What look? I don't have a look.  Sides, you were researching, weren't you?  Should be focusing on that.  You need to track Zhao--"

Zuko leaned down over Sokka, and Sokka swallowed back his words, his dark eyes widening as he looked up.

"Uh... Or... Or we can totally... This works too," he said hurriedly, and he leaned up to kiss Zuko first.

He was hiding something.

Zuko kissed him, long and slow and steady, taking advantage of the moment to crawl onto the bed properly, one leg on either side of Sokka's hips.  With his weight on the fabric of that dress, it was more than enough to keep Sokka exactly where Zuko wanted him.  When Zuko finally pulled back from Sokka's mouth, he snatched the book from Sokka in a single easy motion.

The noise Sokka made could only be described as a squeak, and he scrabbled for it.  Zuko leaned back as far as he could, holding the book up so that he could see what, exactly, Sokka had decided he so definitely did not need assistance reading.  Zuko's eyes widened, and he got about halfway through the first paragraph before Sokka elbowed him in the ribs and managed to drag his arm down enough to get the book away from Zuko.

Zuko couldn't stop the very small grin that spread over his lips as he glanced down at Sokka.

"I didn't know ladies' novels were so..."

"Explicit," Sokka said before Zuko could settle on a word.  "That's what you're looking for. And yeah, look--"

"Should be getting you to read those aloud," Zuko mused, and Sokka sputtered before Zuko chuckled.  He leaned back down, took another long kiss from Sokka's mouth.

When he pulled back, Sokka muttered, "Make you read them out loud maybe.  You'd blush too."

"I don't blush," Zuko countered.

Sokka scowled, and Zuko kissed him again.  And again.

And by the time he was through, neither of them remembered the book where it had fallen on the floor.

[pebblysand]

Three Sentence Fic - Silk - ‘Bumps’

This fucking breaks my heart, too. I’m sorry. (Set sometime late in series 1, Martha/Clive)

(If you’ve got any Silk prompts for other three-sentence fics, be my guest :))

One night, he drops by:

She holds his gaze as he stands at the bottom of the stairs down to her flat, remnants of the drizzling rain falling onto the floor of her hallway as he steps past the threshold. She slides him a beer and settles next to him on the couch, nursing tea in her hands, her thigh bumping against his:

"This is going to sound stupid but can I -" he finally asks after skirting around the topic for a good half hour, his gaze hovering over a space under her stomach; it makes her laugh, scoot closer to him as she lifts her shirt, the touch of his fingers sending shivers up her spine when his palm finds her skin, (discretely, she observes his reaction: with clothes on, she's not showing yet, barely looks like she's put on any weight, but lying down like this, her skin bare, it's another story: there's a bump, a very real bump, something even she has been unable to ignore, lately; quietly, his eyes set on hers, his thumb tracing patterns on her skin: he asks if it moves, yet, and isn't it strange, to feel like you have another person growing inside you.)

The bloody thing mostly makes her feel nauseous, these days, so that's what she tells him, admits that much with a laugh, tells him the story of how she almost threw up on the police misconduct panel the other day; she thinks she stops breathing when he leans down next to her, his breath caressing her skin when he says, "Hey baby," spoken softly against the bump - it makes tears well up in her eyes already, a smile creeping underneath the hand she brings to her mouth -

"Don’t make Mummy sick, alright, the judges need to like her," he says with a smirk on his face, and 'mummy,' she hears, and 'daddy,' she thinks, right before he kisses her, quick, across her lips, like something free and secret, something that doesn’t bind them into anything, and: "We're going to be okay, Marth," he adds, his forehead resting against hers; she thinks he’s right, and she thinks they're going to be parents, one day.

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Liked it? Want more stories like this? You can find some here or here and find my original writing here. If you would like to help me justify the truly unreasonable amount of time I spend writing, you can consider donating to my tipee writing fund, here.

Thanks very much for reading!

[obssessive101]

More silk drawings! @traxits I got some mettalic sharpies and went a little over board on the hair jewellery, and the third one's face came out weird but I really like the rest of it so I cropped it...

[obssessive101]

A more finished and colored picture for @traxits fic silk which I love and cry about alot

[obssessive101]

Silk doodles for @traxits I'll do more finished colored ones soon