Friday: Free For All

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Happy Friday everyone! I hope the week has treated you well, and the weekend is almost here. Which makes the Free For All perfect right? As usual, all fandoms, pairings, and prompts are welcome today.


Just remember to follow our normal rules:

No more than 5 prompts in a row, 3 prompts per fandom. If someone answers your prompt, you can prompt again.

No spoilers in your prompts for at least 1 week following the original air/publication date. If your response includes spoilers, warn in bold and leave at least 3 spaces.

Please remember to format your prompts correctly. For example:

Invisibles, King Mob, releasing the sigil (well, it could be as dirty as you think)

Dresden Files/Supernatural, Harry/Dean/Sam, the vessel for who??

Nothing striking your interest today? Slide on over to our lonely prompts and see if something there can strike your interest!

Happy writing. :D

Comments

[mtxref-fic.livejournal.com]

Maybe that was why, in their nights together, either in Jack's office in the Hub, after hours (where they were more likely to be disturbed by some other member of the team turning up unexpectedly -- and he suspected that it was for this reason that Jack insisted on these stolen moments, just to get a rise out of both him and whoever had had the bad fortune to catch them in the media res) or in Ianto's apartment, where he much preferred that they hold their trysts, he enjoyed watching the older man sleeping, lying sprawled contentedly on the pillows beside him. For once, he seemed at peace, some of the years seeming to drop from his face. Not that Jack looked a day over thirty-nine or thereabouts, but he had noticed something seemed to leave Jack's face while he slept, the weight of the years he had seen. And going by the contents of the archives, the files marked with Jack's name -- both as quarry and as a field agent -- that went back as far as the eighteen sixties, that Jack carried more years than his face and form suggested.

It lay in the man's eyes, those pale blue-green eyes that might glint with mischief and cockiness and even a hint of danger, but which, more often than he likely suspected, took on a dark and distant look, as if his mind had turned to look back on the past, or, more likely, they looked forward at the present or back from the future, from some point in time which Ianto could barely imagine. The man had seen things which seemed the stuff of fiction or mere historical facts written down, and the burden of that knowledge and experience and those years, and only in sleep, the little that his nature allowed him to enjoy, did he find some momentary rest and relief from that burden.

Times like this, Ianto took every care not to awaken Jack, slipping out of bed with care, if necessity required it, and creeping back with equal care, making every attempt not to disturb his lover. For a time, the two of them had a moment of perfect peace, no one to interrupt them, or to judge them: here, Jack had his peace, and Ianto had his own refuge from judging minds and prying eyes.

((The rest can be found Here (http://mtxref-fic.livejournal.com/132613.html).))