The thing I really like about that Torchwood episode, Adam, is that it’s not just “Ianto’s love of Jack,” or whatever tf that Netflix description said once, that saved them, it was also Ianto’s unwavering morality. Adam changed all of their memories and in doing so he completely altered what made them them. Tosh and Owen were so different as to be almost unrecognizable, completely polarized from their regular selves, Jack was lost in the fog of his memories, Gwen was constantly afraid of this man she was supposed to know and love, but Ianto was still exactly the same. Changing his memory, giving him that concept of himself as a cold-blooded killer, didn’t change him. He didn’t shrug and go “guess I’m a murderer, better keep this a secret” like Adam hoped. Instead, Ianto immediately thought, “that’s super fucked up,” had a cry, then turned himself in to Jack. If Ianto didn’t have that sense of right and wrong, that understanding that the innocent should never suffer, that what he was doing had to be stopped no matter the cost to his freedom, he never would have told Jack and Jack never would have realized something was wrong. In the books and the show and the audio dramas, Ianto has killed quite a few people, but the second he believes he’s killed someone who was undeserving of it, the moment he thinks he’s the villain, he shuts it down and tries to make things right. And that’s what saved them from Adam.
OK so I know people were saying Jensen was super drunk during the JIB8 cockles panel, and at first I thought so too - because otherwise WTF was that all about?? But honestly the more I think about it (and I was there) the more I honestly think he really wasn’t all that drunk?
He’d drank A LOT more the day before, during his J2 panel (IIRC) but I honestly didn’t see him drink a lot on Sunday, and if you recall he’d had that emotional YANA moment mere hours before the cockles panel (he actually referred to this moment - but didn’t go into detail about it - during his M&G the same day which I also attended).
I really don’t think he would’ve drunk a lot after that moment….So honestly, IMHO, what we saw on stage there was more JENSEN than NESNEJ…Just a really hyper Jensen in a super flirty and jokey mood. He’d been in a really good mood / top form all two days of the con so it wasn’t out of place for him to act like that during the cockles panel, too.
Which makes that entire panel all the more unbelievable…Pray4misha
Dedicated to @marvelpotterlove 💜 This is a five part series. Reader is a single real estate agent in Cali. Fluff, Smut, and Mild Drama included.
Word Count: Over 1,000 for sure 😂 (sorry if you aren’t tagged ran out of room)
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Part 3: Put On a Show
With a fresh silk press straightening your mane to fall to your bra strap, you look fairly different and it’s not that you don’t like it, afterall it shows off your length. You just prefer your hair to be wide and full to balance out the fullness of your curves. Of course Jamira never did care for your naps. She demanded that you straighten it before her wedding and rather than argue, you just got it done. You could always wash it out. Erik went with you, calling an uber to get you to the salon. He withheld his comments, but you could tell he liked your thick cloud of coils better.. even though he’d said you look beautiful either way. Back in the room, you put your bridesmaid dress in the closet.
“It need to stay there,” Erik quipped almost making you snort. It wasn’t a bad dress given the circumstances, but then it was not something you’d rewear. Still, you’d paid for the dress and you planned to find an opportunity to wear it again.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, is it typical for all this shit to happen three days before a wedding or were they supposed to prep some of this in advance,” Erik asks poised on the higher bunk of your childhood bedroom. He’s way too big for that thing. You’re too big for it, but it’s going to have to work for the next three nights.
“I’m not experienced with weddings so I can’t really say, but I personally wouldn’t wait. I don’t wanna sound bitchy, but if I’m gonna host events meant to be memorable for a special day, I’m gonna put more thought into the planning so that it’s not tacky and chaotic. There’re enough last minute details as it is.. and I couldn’t imagine rushing my own wedding activities..”
“You want a wedding?” His legs dangle off the edge as he watches you wrap your hair in the dresser mirror. Meeting his eyes in the glass, you shrug. You don’t typically let your mind drift in the direction of weddings and marriage or commitments. With marriage comes the responsibility of another person’s needs and desires, which isn’t a bad thing.. but people get married and they’re no longer themselves. They compromise and bend and sacrifice..
“I don’t wanna be stagnant.. I don’t want to compromise my career, my lifestyle, and all the things I’ve worked for to be saddled into a life with my dreams on the backburner like what happens in so many marriages. I wanna grow into myself freely.. like a bonsai that hasn’t been tied down.”
“Complicated answer to a simple question.”
Your eyes dart to his in this mirror and they’re alight with humor. He’s obviously messing with you.
“Okay smartass,” you smirk, “Maybe you could answer it better. Do you want a wedding?” He throws his head back in a scoff.
“I’m the one remember? I marry you. That’s how this ends.”
“Oh that’s what we’re pitching? I’m with it. When do we tell everyone we’re engaged?” You stress the last word, fanning your fingers imagining a flashy ring. Your head scarf is finally tied allowing you to face Erik fully now.
“Maybe tomorrow after tonight’s show.. You up for what we discussed?”
Ha! You cackle at the thought of your family’s sour faces, a wicked grin brimming from within. You can’t help the shimmy of your shoulders and he shakes his head fighting a smile as the right side of his mouth quirks. The energy is contagious.
“How are we going to do this, do you beat the wall while I moan or do we both grunt close to the door like cavemen? Which way makes them think I’m getting my vagina smashed like a cupcake?”
“Well, I can make some clapping noises and talk shit and you can moan, but first we need to know if you can do a believable moan. Let me hear it.”
Clearing your throat, you take a breath and he rolls his eyes.
“Uhn.. Uhn!.. Oh yeah.. Oh yeah.. Right there,” you ham. It’s convincing enough, at least to you, but Erik shakes his head and buries his face into his thick hands with a groan.
“This is real life sweetheart, not porn. You need to moan like a nigga up in them guts and just rippin ya shit. Channel that and try again.”
Pft. If you were getting dick like that, you wouldn’t be cruising pornhub. You channel your vibrator as the next best thing.
“Oohhhh… yesss” you groan and he shrugs.
“Better. Much better, but it’s still weak. Keep in mind you want it to sound like good dick, so dont insult me with no lil ass baby moans.”
“Okay so help me get it right so I can do you justice.”
“….This ain’t finna work. Change of plans.” He hops down from the top bunk to sit on the bottom bed and pats the spot next to him. Once you sit, his hand hovers over the zipper of your capris, but his eyes remain on yours. “May I?” This man is bold. What ever happened to fake moans.
“I wouldn’t have to if you knew how to sound like you were enjoying yourself. A little motivation might help your performance.”
“You’re really serious..”
“Damn serious. You’d paid $1,000 for me might as well get your money’s worth.”
“What is this, Pretty Woman? Are you Julia Roberts?”
“Nah, I’m prettier.. and what you got to lose except them horrible acting skills?” His head tilts.
“Wow. You’re really coming for me right now.”
“So return the favor.” His fingers undo the button and zipper on your capris and you stare at him wondering if you should cave. This whole relationship is meant to be fake, which means the pretending portion should remain just that.. pretend. So why then are you considering indulging in these very real hoetivities? It’s a strange thing. Kneeling on the floor before you, he tugs your capris off and lays them neatly over the bed.
“So we’re really doing this right now and not acting? All because you think I can’t act effectively?” The look on your face says ‘not likely’ because it’s bullshit. You know it’s complete bullshit. He grins widely, flashing those gold fangs like a child who got caught red-handed and you shake your head dismissively. Total bullshit.
“That smile don’t work on me.”
“You a gotdamn liar,” he says lowly, reaching up to pull off your panties. When you don’t make a move to stop him, his grin returns and he trails his fingers up your slit.
“Why are you so excited? You look like a little kid,” you chuckle and his eyebrow lifts in question. He’s got your thick calf over his shoulder and his fingers strum and massage the skin of your elevated thigh.
“Whatchu mean? I love eating pussy. I could ask you the same question.” His thick finger pushes into you and explores before slowly pulling out and raising for you to see the wetness clinging to it.
“Why you so wet, hm? You could’ve just asked me for some relief. I know you attracted to me. You scared of me too?” His tone is mocking and you roll your eyes knowing that you’d have never asked him. Why would you ask him for that when he’s already doing so much.
“That’s so tacky and inappropriate, not to mention an opportunistic thing to do, taking advantage of your kindness and concern. Hey, I know we barely know each other and you’re saving my literal ass here, but hey would you eat me out too? Thanks.”
“Mhm,” his this thick finger invading your lower opening steals your attention and he chases it with a second finger, stretching you sweetly from the inside. You’re 88% sure he’s ignored your entire speech, but at this point you don’t actually care enough to protest. With a contented sigh you relax, dropping back on the bed and you can hear his quiet chuckle. It’s a comforting sound. His fingers work, stroking your inner walls in a come here motion then spreading and scissoring, dancing and rubbing repeatedly against your nerve endings. You’re suddenly aware of your breathing and it’s hard and loud. The makings of what you know to be a high whine threatens to burst from your throat and you swallow down the obnoxious sound. When a third finger goes in, you feel yourself tense, but his strong forearms pin your thighs apart.
“Shhit,” you whisper trying to pull back from his fingers. The familiar heating sensation is tightening your lower abdomen, but the stretch is a lot. You hum trying to keep yourself grounded, knowing fully well it doesn’t make sense to do, not now. It’s showtime. You’re supposed to be putting on a show for the house.
“Let go,” he says with direct eye contact and it’s the permission you didn’t know you needed. Panting, your back arches against his fingers and you rotate your hips riding them, spilling desperate moans into the air. The freedom is invigorating causing you to unleash completely. It’s you who’s in control now as he lets you use his fingers how you need and you let them plunge and stretch you freely, while you rub yourself wildly to a tensing orgasm with your eyelids tightly shut. “Hooo shit,” you cry out still shuddering, but you feel at peace now. You breathe in and out to come down from your high when you feel his fingers drag out of you. Opening your eyes you see him peering down at you and his wet fingers go to his mouth, his thick pink tongue rolling over and between them suggestively before sucking away the white creamy residue. Spreading your thighs, you wordlessly make your request and his mouth drops to nip at your inner left thigh before placing wet kisses down to your outter lips. It drives you crazy.
“Erik,” you plead and he places one more bite on your inner right thigh before looking up through his long dark lashes. His tongue swirls on your skin making the muscles in your vagina squeeze in jealousy.
“If you ain’t shy, say what you want.. but be careful what you ask for,” he challenges and there’s a smile in his warning. Honestly though, fuck the warning. Since you’re already hoeing, might as well get your cakes smashed. Who knows when you’ll have the time again. Once you get back to Cali, it’s work time and you plan to run. A hard stinging smack on your clit jolts you back to the current situation with a hard yelp and your eyes angrily refocus on Erik’s.
“You can’t stop them lil wheels in your head from turning, can you?” He sounds exasperated but he wears a smile. Those fangs.. next to perfect, white teeth, something you’ve always required of a potential partner. His long tongue snakes out and flicks and immediately your lower muscles clench. Say what you want, he’d said.
“I want you.. to put that tongue.. right here,” you say pointing to your clit. He does, but then he doesn’t move. Smartass. You try to move his head where you need it but he pushes your hands away. You feel yourself throb and you can’t wait anymore.
“Erik, can you eat this nani or fuck me, please,” you ask sweetly. He scoffs before sending another smack to your clit making it jump.
“Call me daddy and I’ll give you what you want.” It’s a blunt order that you know you won’t get pass. He’s enjoying the situation way too much. He stands and adjusts himself in his pants and you know he’s big. You can tell. He has big dick energy in waves. Noticing the trajectory of your eyes, he rolls his with a dry laugh.
“Okay, damn. This better be good, daddy. Fuck me.”
“Mmm,” he smiles pulling off his shirt. As his pants come off, your eyes roam the wonderland that is his body in awe. Not only is he jacked like a kangaroo, but he’s covered in an orderly pattern of small keloids. These were all done intentionally, but why? As if sensing your question, his eyebrow raises and he drops to grab your ankles, raising them over his broad shoulders. He’s obviously done talking. The wide head of his erection pokes at your eneterance and immediately your eyes widen. You knew he was big, but he feels wider than you expected. Looking down to steal a peek, you almost say 'oh hell no’ but he grips your hips and pushes in deep.
“FUCK!” You shriek and breathe trying to adjust to the tight stretch. You push against his stomach since he keeps going, ignoring your scream, but he grabs your hands holding them tightly and pushing deeper until his pelvis hits yours.
“Mm. What’s wrong baby?” He pulls almost all the way back and you inhale sharply before he drives back in the the hilt.
“AH F– ERI– SHHIT!”
“Huh? I’m digging in ya guts baby? That’s what you tellin me?.. Hm?” In deep, steady thrusts he rams into you, his heavy body pushing your thighs back. His fingers reach down and spread your outer lips as he thrusts as if trying to stretch you out even more.
“Mhm,” you breathe unable to speak. Your screams come freely now and he smashes his soft full lips into yours, smothering the sounds. High pitched moans pepper the air and then he hits a spot that makes you moan even higher.
“Hold it. Don’t cum,” he hisses. His pelvis slams into yours and his command seems ridiculous. He looks like he’s about to come and it’s beautiful. Of course you can’t hold it and you cum. Hard. His hand wraps tightly around your throat and he continues his assault through your orgasm causing you to shake violently as his tongue rests against his top canine. Your hand reaches around his neck and he blinks surprised as you weakly choke him back which makes him pump faster.
“Squeeze harder,” he growls looking in your eyes with a passionate determination. He’s zoned in, his full attention on your face as it contorts in semi-painful ecstasy. He’s deep and it’s messing with you. It’s like he has a direct line to your brain and you can’t think. He squeezes harder and it almost scares you. You try to squeeze him hard enough to match. He groans and his hips swivel and flex bringing the tightening the heated feeling in your core until it snaps and you cum again. Your vision fades to black and suddenly your body is weak, refusing to move. He smacks your clit again causing it to jump and you whimper from the overwhelming feeling of excessive use.
“Shit, I’m bout paint ya fuckin walls, how you feel bout that?”
“Mhm,” you sigh weakly. You’re on the pill to regulate your cycle anyway so why not? Even if you weren’t, the way this dick feels, you probably wouldn’t have said no.. which is terrifying. His dick is definitely dangerous in that way.
“I know you tired, but give me just one more.” His hips grind and he swivels inside of you with slow strokes, his finger rubbing your nub causing you to contract again amazingly with a whine and then he erupts. It’s warm inside of you and he drops your legs before resting on top of you to catch his breath. When you finally look at him, he smiles and you can’t help but smile with him.
“Good job.. although you probably wouldn’t have performed that well if I weren’t inside you,” he grins smugly. You roll your eyes deeply with a groan and feel a light peck on your lips causing your eyes to pop open. He’s staring down at you and it almost looks like.. Like he’s..
“Wait! Are you.. are you.. falling for me,” you tease. He rolls his eyes, s sitting up on his forearm and then it’s your turn to wear a shiteating grin.
“Your pussy,” he clarifies but there’s something about the look he had that makes you think there’s something more to that. Staring at him, you catch the small twitch of his mouth as the corner lifts. If you weren’t staring so hard you’d have missed it. There’s definitely something more to it.
“Nah,” he finally grins. “I think it’s you who’s falling.”
“And what makes you think that?”
He unexpectedly nears your face and your breath halts immediately as his lips lightly graze yours.
It’s really, really, really important to me that Andromeda and Harry connect after the war.
On one side of the coin, you have the boy who lived, except that he’s battered and broken and doesn’t really know how to come to terms with the fact that he gets to live yet. He’s been what everyone has wanted him to be and then some, and now, he quite literally has nothing to do except to think and to dwell. He closes his eyes at night and sees Voldemort; he has to remind himself again and again that he’s gone. (All is well?)
On the other side, there’s Andromeda, who has lost everything that she’s ever loved in one fell swoop and doesn’t know whether to be relieved that he looks so much like her or terrified. She misses Ted—his warm eyes and his loud voice, the way his belly would jiggle when he laughed. She is sick for her daughter. (When she was younger, Nymphadora would always come home drenched in mud, a grin drawn across her rosy cheeks, and Andromeda would scold her, and now she regrets it, even though it’s irrational and stupid and—) There are some days where she can’t breathe.
The war is over, their loved ones are in the earth, and there’s a little boy named Teddy with bright, blue hair and wide, brown eyes that crinkle when he smiles. He unites Andromeda and Harry; he gives them individually and mutually hope and a purpose, and eventually, they are drawn together by more than just their love for him.
There are some days when Harry will come over and just sit on the floor with Teddy, a faraway look in his emerald green eyes. (Rumor has it, that they used to be livelier once upon a time, vivid and hungry, a rival for Lily Evans’s own. Now, they’re flat and empty, and there are lines beneath them that shouldn’t be there because God, he’s only seventeen.) Andromeda will bring him a cup of tea—which is more
ceremonial than anything—and join him. She doesn’t ask him anything, doesn’t feel like she needs to. He can talk when and if he wants to talk. When he leaves for the evening, he says, “Thank you.”
She comes across one of Nymphadora’s wedding pictures one day while cleaning. She and Remus are laughing, laughing, laughing, eyes only on each other, and her daughter’s bubblegum pink hair stirs in the breeze. Andromeda can’t take it. She comes undone; she falls apart. Agony carves into her chest like a knife, and she thinks she screams, but isn’t really in the right mind to know. There is the distant thud of a door and then footsteps panicking down the hallway. Harry finds her on her knees in the living room, curled around the portrait. Wordlessly, he lowers himself to the floor. He holds her while she glues herself back together. They stay there for a long time.
It’s not all a sad story, though. Some days, they’re broken, and some days, they’re a little less broken than usual. Some days, they even begin to heal.
They find themselves giggling over swapped stories.
“I swear, Mrs. Tonks, Aragog was at least eight feet tall! A bloody monster!”
Harry learns how to make a mean cake in Andromeda Tonks’s pristine kitchen.
“You’re whipping an egg, not jabbing a troll, Harry. Gentle!”
Jack Zimmermann appears as a guest star more than once on History Channel documentaries as a historian narrating parts of it. His voice is so soothing and he’s so passionate explaining the benefits and drawbacks of different types of chariots in the ancient world that no one has to worry about Media Jack making an appearance. He’s so happy to put his degree to use and his episodes increase viewership by, like, a bajillion percent.
Also, you know what? Kudos to Russell T Davies. He might have been initially sceptical about being able to sell a female Doctor to the audience, but he absolutely laid some of the groundwork too.
In the same series in which Moffat brought in River Song, sonic screwdriver and all, RTD went on to write all three major companions of his as Doctor figures. Donna saving the day as the DoctorDonna. Martha coming face to face with the decision to destroy her planet and her people, or let the universe perish. And Rose travelling through different realities, her name a secret, strange words on her lips, with a plan to save the world.
Hey Kai, just wanted to say - I think youryo cool. Amazing. Beautiful. Most of all - funny. You've been an inspiration to me, and every day that I come home or wake up or whatever the heck I do, my day is always brightened when I find out what shenanigans you've been up to with all of your works, aus, and creations. Although I've always dreamed of animating, singing, and making music - I know that the majority of the time it'll be because of the inspirations I've gotten from you. So thanks, Kai.
Oh gosh–this is like, super sweet of you?? Thank you so much, it means so much to me!