are you ready for the rapture

Build a BioShock Plasmid Sign

Not only are we sharing our favorite community DIY projects based off of different games that 2K publishes – we’re building some as well!

Let’s kick this off with a project that’s great for beginners, really easy to build and is a fun way to bring BioShock’s Rapture to the walls of your room: A faux-neon Plasmid sign.  

You ready?

This project uses string lights called electroluminescent wire, or “El Wire” for short. It comes in a ton of colors and can run off batteries. Best of all, the lights are inexpensive, and dead simple to use.

Watch the video here.

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  • Him: Call me daddy~
  • Me: The Rapture dream is over, but in waking, I am reborn. The world is not ready for me, yet here I am. It would be so easy to misjudge them. You are my conscious father, and I need you to guide me. You'll always be with me now, father, your memories, your drives, and when I need you, you'll be there on my shoulder, whispering. If utopia is not a place, but a people, then we must choose carefully, and in our story, Rapture was just the beginning.
  • Him: What the fuck
{PART 2} Nervous Proposal (M) // Jungkook

Originally posted by kookie-bts

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut // Fluff

Summary: After Jungkook proposes to you, things become a little too heated - so you decide to go back to your place ^^

A/N: Please note that this scenario is rated M for MATURE as it contains smut ^^

This is the final chapter of a two part series :) If you would like, you can read Part 1 here. 


You stood on your toes, reaching up as far as you could go before Jungkook lowered himself, smiling at how adorable you were as his lips met yours. He relished in the taste that was coffee on them – knowing that you’d probably had a hard day at work and being glad that everything turned out exactly the way he wanted it to as he began backing you up so that your shoulder blades were now firmly pressed against the railings of the bandstand. You opened your mouth wider in between the sweet kisses as Jungkook deepened  them, pressing his chest bravely against your breasts as his hips came into contact with yours – completely eliminating every centimetre of space that could have been between you. As you snaked your arms up and around his back, lightly dragging your fingers up and down his spine – you felt something hard form on your lower stomach.

“S – sorry” Jungkook stuttered as he went to move back, cursing himself for becoming so overly excited in public, but not before you pulled him back into you and bit on his bottom lip, sucking on it as you looked into his eyes – a look that always made Jungkook yearn for you no matter the situation.

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All’s Fair - Chris x Maggie (PG)

Originally posted by elopetoday

She crept slowly toward the enemy stronghold. The only sound in the wintery wood is the squeaking crunch of the snow under her feet. She knows the enemy is nearby, but there doesn’t appear to be any sign of them. Hopefully, they’re off on missions of their own.

A flash of bright red fluttering in the cold wind catches her eye and Maggie smiles to herself. Hidden just behind the wall of a hastily built snow fort is the enemy flag. Maggie pauses behind a tree leaning against the rough bark and holds her breath, waiting to see if there’s anyone guarding the flag. After several long minutes, there’s no sigh of any movement.

Taking a deep breath of cold air, Maggie begins running toward the fort. She’s just rounding the corner of one squat snowy wall when someone grabs her from behind and lifts her off her feet. She shrieks and squirms until she hears Chris’s deep laugh in her ear.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” he teases, shifting her until he’s holding her in his arms like a groom holding his bride. Maggie can’t help but giggle as his blue eyes sparkle at her mischievously.

“Oh, nothing, just out for a walk in the woods,” she says nonchalantly, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Really?”

“Mmhm. Say, could I borrow that flag for a few minutes?”

Chris laughs again, “Oh, I don’t think so.” He drops a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “But I do have an offer for you.”

“Is that so, Mr. Powell? Do tell.”

“Trade sides. Join our team.”

“And just why would I do that?”

“Because I’ll make it well worth your while,” Chris murmurs huskily, his breath curling through the cold air in faint wisps.

Maggie watches as his pupils dilate and his eyes grow dark as his gaze drops to her mouth. Her breath hitches as Chris’s arms tighten around her. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips in anticipation and a scarce moment later Chris’s mouth is on hers in a slow, passionate kiss. He bites gently on her lower lip drawing a sighing moan from Maggie. Despite the freezing temperatures, a smoldering heat begins flowing through her body warming Maggie all the way down to her toes.  Chris’s kisses always have that affect on her, but after a winter break lasted far too long, the heady sensation of his lips on her is almost intoxicating. She feels herself growing drowsy on the rapturous feel of her boyfriend’s lips and body pressed against her.

With a sudden yelp, Chris breaks the kiss as he falls into the snow with Maggie still in his arms.

“Maggie! What the hell are you doing?” Zack yells before pelting Chris with another snowball.

“I’m all ready down, Zack!” Chris shouts laughingly ducking his head into Maggie’s shoulder and away from Zack’s barrage.

“I’m distracting the enemy! Grab the flag and go!” Maggie yells.

As Zack darts away with the flag, Chris raises his head and stares down at Maggie in disbelief.

“You used our love against me?” he pouts, sticking out his lower lip sadly. He looks ridiculously cute and Maggie can’t help but lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“All’s fair in love and war, Chris,” she declares before rolling them over to straddle him in the snow. Chris’s smiles tenderly up at her and she knows he won’t hold that little ploy against her. For a moment, she just watches him, her very heart warmed by the sight of the pure love shining in his beautiful eyes. 

When she leans down and whispers breathily in his ear, Chris shudders beneath her and Maggie smirks. 

“Besides,” she says, “the sooner this game is over, the sooner we can go inside and you can warm me up properly.”

In response, Chris grips her neck gently and pulls Maggie into another searing kiss. His arms wrap around her body, pulling her flush with his hard chest. 

“Why wait?”

iKON Scenario #8

A/N: I’m sorry that this scenario is so shitty, but i’m tired and i really wanted to update, so i hope that it isn’t so bad.

Hickeys 

Hanbin:

  • Hanbin would be shy at first when giving you hickeys, because he didn’t want to hurt you, but once you convinced him to go ahead, you’d be moaning like fuck. He’d leave purple marks all over your collar bones and you’d look in the mirror, wondering how much foundation you’d have to apply to cover them up. But all Hanbin could do was smirk when he saw them, because he was proud of his masterpiece.

Bobby:

  • Bobby would love giving you hickeys on your boobs and on your neck. He’d start of by placing a trail of wet kisses on your jawline, eventually leaning into sucking on your neck, giving you a beautiful mark that he would be proud to show off on his girlfriend. When you asked him why he loved giving you hickeys so much, his answer would simply be “to show that you belong to me” and he’d leave you a new one right where he could see it.

Junhoe:

  • Junhoe was never one for hickey’s but the moment he gave you your first one, or at least from him, he was hooked. Maybe it was his overprotectiveness, but when other guys spot your hickeys he couldn’t help but smirk to himself. “Y/N, I see Jun was here.” Bobby’s fingers pointed to your neck, making you groan, but June stood proudly smirking next to you.

Yunhyeong:

  • Yunhyeong wasn’t much of a neck kind of hickey person, but when it came to your body you were covered in bright purple marks, Yunhyeong kisses between the valley of your breast. His lips closing around the skin, as he sucked harshly against it. He thought that you looked so hot covered in his love bities.

 JInhwan:

  • He was one for decorum so hickeys were something he kept for the two of you in private. He would leave his mark in places only he was allowed to see. Your stomach, your sides and the insides of your thighs were covered in red circles that perfectly matched his lips. Knowing this to be your guys’ secret made it all the more exciting. 

Donghyuk: 

  • What you and Donghyuk had was passionate to say the least, and hickeys were an inevitable occurrence. What could start as innocent small kisses would often lead to you and him tumbling to the bedroom in just a matter of minutes. He’d gaze at your body in rapture and calculate where to leave his love bites. Your smooth skin allowed for his work to incongruously stand out and his bright smile would show that his work was successful.


Chanwoo:

  • He had never left a hickey before so the first time you’d asked him to try it on you he had no clue. You explained how it happened and he caught on quickly. He sucked gently on your collarbone where it was enjoyable rather than painful, and once he was done, he kissed around the spot gently to soothe you. The spot appeared and Chanwoo grinned, ready to leave some more. 
CLANDESTINE | Teacher! AU | Jimin X Reader | Smut | Part 4

Mature content ahead, sorry for any mistakes, and thanks for reading!

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

The day passed slower than ever before. One hour of geography felt like a year, and last period - maths - felt like ten. Throughout both these lessons, there was an increasing wetness in between your thighs. This was due to the fact that your mind kept wandering to the note in your pocket, and the man whom you would see at the end of the academic day…
God, you wanted him. You were only a teenage girl: you knew that, but you knew that this was not mere puppy love. No, this was pure, unadulterated lust and desire. You knew this was not the reason he wanted to speak to you at the end of the day, but a girl could dream, could she not?
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. It was a miracle that you managed to refrain from sprinting down the hall to Mr Park’s classroom, actually.
When you finally reached the door, you knocked lightly. ‘Come in,’ the voice called: his voice, Mr Park’s voice. So low, so smooth… just the sound of his voice made you get even wetter. You decided to blame it on teenage hormones. God, you were in deep.
You entered the classroom, and Mr Park was sit in the chair at his desk. He swivelled his chair around to face you, and smiled politely up at you.
’(Y/N), you’re probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here,’ he told you.
Damn straight, you thought as you nodded. He looked so hot as he threw a paper he had been reading onto his desk, as he took of his glasses, as he ran his fingers through his long brown locks.
'Come closer,’ he said, straightening his back in his chair. You did so, and positioned yourself directly before him.
'What was it that you said about forbidden love, again, (Y/N)?’ he enquired, is voice low and smooth. 'You’re opinion was so thought-provoking, it’s been resonating in my head all afternoon.’
Biting your lip, you set your eyes firmly on the toes of your polished school shoes. 'I said it was exhilarating,’ you told your teacher, repeating your words from earlier.
Mr Park nodded, watching you closely as he asked, 'And have you ever experienced forbidden love, (Y/N)?’
Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red as you shook your head. 'No, sir.’
Mr Park hesitated for only a moment, before his voice dropped an octave, and he uttered the word, 'Liar.’
Your head snapped up, and your eyes frantically searched his. Was he onto you? Did he know how you felt? Was he going to scold you for having such inappropriate feelings?
'I know,’ he said, licking his lips. 'I know how you watch me in class. The other day, when I grabbed your wrist, I saw how you rubbed your thighs together.
I’m not an idiot.’
Stuttering, countless excuses fumbled past your lips, but Mr Park quickly silenced you.
Roughly he grabbed your wrist, and in the blink of an eye, he had you seated in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist.
'Mr Park!’ you exclaimed, hands against his chest. You could push yourself away from: it would be so easy.
But you just could not bring yourself to do it.
'Call me Jimin,’ he murmured darkly, as he pulled your lips onto his.
His lips caressed yours, and you felt truly alive. There was passion in the kiss, there was fire, and there was longing, finally being satisfied. Mr Park’s - Jimin’s - tongue slipped past your lips, rolling over your own.
You shifted in his lap, and your core rubbed against his firm thighs. You moaned softly into the kiss, and Jimin pulled back. 'You like that, babygirl?’ he questioned, smirking.
Embarrassed, you shoved your face into the crook of his neck, trying to hide your blushing cheeks.
Jimin lifted you off his lap, and sat you on the desk before him. 'Now, now, why are you so shy, babygirl? Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t hide herself.’
Without warning, he flipped you over, so you were bent over the desk with him behind you. Your skirt only just covered your ass, exposing your thighs.
You could not believe it. You were bent over the desk for Mr Park.
Your dream had come true.
Jimin caressed the smooth skin of your ass, and you bit your lip and whined. 'You’re so perfect, babygirl,’ he murmured, before landing a sharp smack on your ass. Your yelped faded to a whimper as he massaged your ass in circular motions, soothing the skin.
He ran a finger along your core through your panties, and proceeded to rub small circles against your clit. When he slipped your panties aside and pushed a finger inside you, you both moaned.
'Fuck, you’re so wet,’ Jimin mumbled. 'So fucking cute, and so fucking naughty. Perfect.’
After only one thrust, Jimin pulled his finger back out, and leaving you whining. He swirled his tongue around his finger, tasting you before licking his lips. 'You taste amazing,’ he praised you, before beginning to unbuckle his belt.
Whining again, louder this time, you wiggled your ass for him, trying to hurry him along. 'Don’t worry, babygirl,’ he chuckled, 'I’ve got you.’
He sat back down in his chair, free of his trousers and boxers, and you spun round to face him. As you stood there, watching him pumping his large member casually,
lip caught between his teeth, you couldn’t possibly imagine a better sight.
Hurriedly, you unbuttoned your shirt, unzipped your skirt and removed your bra, throwing them onto the desk behind you.
Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you over his cock, so you were positioned just above it. 'Tell me if you need to stop,’ he told you, and you nodded in reply.
And then he slowly lowered you down onto his cock, and you thought you had died and gone to heaven. Your nails scraped down your back, as he filled you up, your core burning with mild pain and more prominent pleasure.
Jimin allowed you a moment to adjust,before beginning to bounce you up and down on his cock. In a mere minute, moans and groans were tumbling from your lips, and Jimin himself was moaning euphoniously in pleasure.
'Fuck, look how fast you were ready for me, babygirl,’ he muttered in awe as you slid up and down his hard cock with ease.
After a short period of time, your walls began to tighten around Jimin, signalling your release was nearing. 'Fuck, you’re so soft, and so tight,’ Jimin groaned. 'I’m not going to last much longer.’
You nodded your head in agreement, biting your lip. 'Me neither’.
When Jimin whispered in your ear to release for him, it was the last straw. You tumbled down into the depths of ecstasy and rapture, and you rolled your hips against Jimin, riding out your orgasm.
Once Jimin had pulled out of you and sat you in his lap, he pressed a kiss against your forehead.
'Fuck,’ he said, 'I think you’re going to have to give me your number.’

My copy of Villette has been staring at me from the shelves for years now, and although I am terribly hungry to read it, I’ve been avoiding it consciously. It’s the only piece of writing by Charlotte Brontë that I haven’t read yet; all her letters, her murmurings, her novels, they have made me tremble with feeling. Villette will be the last time I experiment her thoughts freshly. I’m not ready for that. Charlotte has grown to be more than my predilect author—she is some sort of ghostly sister to me, or an unsubstantial lover. I don’t want to have the last conversation with her. I do love rereading her, of course; I love the familiarity, the warmth, the homelike aura that springs from rereading your favorite author. But the experience of reading a new piece of writing from her is so rapturously electrifying, fertile, volcanic. I know my reading of Villette will be filled with delicious flavors; it will shape new, unimaginable sketches in my mind. Every time I glance at my book, it is as if Charlotte were saying, ‘Come, come, I have something to tell you’. But I’m not ready for her voice to morph into a repetition, an echo! I want her tongue to ever surprise me. Basically, WHY IS SHE DEAD?

So I watched ‘Little Evil’ earlier, and this silly drabble came about.

~~~

“He looks like you,” Leslie said, rubbing Ben’s calf with her foot.

Ben frowned. “Him? Really?”

“There’s a similarity. You both have brown hair and eyes,” Leslie said, looking at the actor on the screen.

“Is that it?” Ben asked, shifting a little closer. “Just the same hair and eye colour?”

Leslie squinted. “No, there’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it.”

It was a Thursday night, and with the triplets all tucked up in bed, Leslie and Ben thought they’d have a glass of wine and watch a movie. It just so happened that the movie was about a child antichrist.

Leslie shrugged and snuggled back to her position on Ben’s shoulder. They carried on watching the film in silence, until Leslie paused it again.

“Ok, don’t think bad of me for saying this but…if one of our children ended up being the antichrist… which one do you think it would be?”

Ben pursed his lips. Secretly he had been thinking it too as he watched the movie. Their triplets were angels…destructive angels, but still wonderful. But did others see their children as devils? He knew Roz certainly did.

“It’s hypothetical, of course,” Leslie said, bringing Ben out of his thoughts. “I love our children dearly but…if there had to be one…who do you think?”

Ben thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. I mean, Stephen’s kind of wild and breaks the most things.”

“Yeah that’s true,” Leslie said, bringing a finger up to her lips as she thought. “But Sonia sometimes I think is older than her age. She could easily plan a rapture and form a cult at her age.”

“She’s three.”

“I know,” Leslie said, her eyes a little wide. “But she’s already shown an interest in our taxes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow formed a cult at three.”

“Then there’s Wesley,” Ben murmured. “He’s just so quiet, he couldn’t be the antichrist.”

“Silent but deadly,” Leslie mumbled. “He kind of reminds me of the kid on the movie. If you wake Wesley up from his nap when he’s not ready, he gives you a look like that.”

Ben paused. “Oh yeah he does.”

Both parents looked at each other with a grin. “But then they are so sweet,” Leslie said, leaning into Ben again. “They’re adorable when they all pile into our bed on a Sunday morning. And when Stephen runs at me for a hug when I get home from work, and Sonia curls up on your lap when she’s tired, and when Wesley draws pictures of all of us. They’re perfect. They aren’t devil children. I love them.”

“I know,” Ben said, kissing her forehead. “I love them too.

They stayed in that moment for a few minutes, before Ben heard a shuffling, he looked over the top of Leslie’s head and saw Stephen standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Stephen, buddy, what are you doing up?” Ben asked.

“I can’t sleep,” Stephen whimpered. “Wesley’s barking in his sleep.”

Ben and Leslie exchanged worried glances, and they both silently agreed that Wesley was most definitely the top contender for the child antichrist.

This is an “in context” review of SPN 5x04, originally posted on LiveJournal on October 2nd, 2009. I’m keeping the text in its original form as much as possible; the only things I’m updating are broken links, broken pictures, and a touch of formatting.

This is, to this day, my favorite episode of the entire series. Here you can enjoy me screaming the day immediately after it aired for the first time. 

I think this picpsam was only surpassed by the one I did for 12x10 in terms of size. (Or was it 12x12? I don’t remember which one made me totally lose my mind; I feel like it was both. Either way, 5x04 is an ep that I STILL lose my shit over, so… know what you’re getting into, k?)


I DID IT AGAIN.

HEY, GUYS, IT’S SUPERNATURAL 5.04 \o/ \o/ \o/

‘Cuz LJ was down when I started this and I like to upload as I’m capping and writing, half of my caps are on Photobucket and the other half are on LJ. Hopefully Photobucket doesn’t hiccup on me. Also, I went off of two different files for caps, and the second half have weird little blippy things on them. Never mind; they’re apparently fine now. O_o 

IN WHICH I THINK I ACTUALLY DID CAPTURE EVERY FRAME.

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anonymous asked:

Part three of Henir solace please? The Henir cult and Hennon is surprised that the sun master beat their God and promptly bows down to him and follows him wherever he goes. (Crack please with reactions of resident el masters and el lady)

“Solace,” Denif says, his eyes wide.  “Solace.  What in the heck is this.”

Solace glances back at the Henir cult following him, half of them chanting prayers to the “black sun” (as near as he can translate their language, anyways) and the other half in fervent prayer.  Then he turns to Denif and grimaces.

“They followed me home,” he says.  “Can we keep them?”

Ebalon laughs.  Ebalon is human.  Ebalon gets the joke.  Denif just squints, and Ventus looks about ready to burst into laughter for quite a different reason.

“Solace,” Denif growls.  Ventus loses it and starts cackling.

“Solace, when I said you’d need an army to defeat me in sparring, I didn’t mean it literally!”

Denif smacks Ventus on the back of the head, glares Ebalon into silence, and then turns the force of his fury on Solace.

“We are not keeping them.  We are killing them, and then you are-”

“Yes!” screams a woman in the cult, then faints.  Two others catch her.  Solace turns to see them all staring at him in complete rapture.

“Yes!  Kill us!  Send us into the black sun, O great lord!” one yells, his hand over his forehead.

“Destroy us completely and utterly!” hollers another.

“Burn us in your unforgiving rays!”

“Murder your unworthy servants and let us rejoin your dark light!”

They don’t even sound sarcastic.  More like orgasmic.  Ventus is laughing again.  Solace can feel Denif’s glare boring a hole into his back.  For once, Solace wishes for his mask back - he’s having to work very hard to keep his despair from showing on his face.

Good Ishmael.  How does he get himself into these situations?

“Fainted, didn’t I?” she asked, weakly. “Well, who wouldn’t? You try going without anything to eat for three days and see!”

“Himmel!” exclaimed Rudolf, jumping up. “Wait till I come back.”

He dashed out the green door and down the stairs. In twenty minutes he was back again, kicking at the door with his toe for her to open it. With both arms he hugged an array of wares from the grocery and the restaurant. On the table he laid them–bread and butter, cold meats, cakes, pies, pickles, oysters, a roasted chicken, a bottle of milk and one of redhot tea.

“This is ridiculous,” said Rudolf, blusteringly, “to go without eating. You must quit making election bets of this kind. Supper is ready.” He helped her to a chair at the table and asked: “Is there a cup for the tea?” “On the shelf by the window,” she answered. When he turned again with the cup he saw her, with eyes shining rapturously, beginning upon a huge Dill pickle that she had rooted out from the paper bags with a woman’s unerring instinct. He took it from her, laughingly, and poured the cup full of milk. “Drink that first” he ordered, “and then you shall have some tea, and then a chicken wing. If you are very good you shall have a pickle to-morrow. And now, if you’ll allow me to be your guest we’ll have supper.”

He drew up the other chair. The tea brightened the girl’s eyes and brought back some of her colour. She began to eat with a sort of dainty ferocity like some starved wild animal. She seemcd to regard the young man’s presence and the aid he had rendered her as a natural thing–not as though she undervalued the conventions; but as one whose great stress gave her the right to put aside the artificial for the human. But gradually, with the return of strength and comfort, came also a sense of the little conventions that belong; and she began to tell him her little story. It was one of a thousand such as the city yawns at every day–the shop girl’s story of insufficient wages, further reduced by “fines” that go to swell the store’s profits; of time lost through illness; and then of lost positions, lost hope, and–the knock of the adventurer upon the green door.

But to Rudolf the history sounded as big as the Iliad or the crisis in “Junie’s Love Test.”

“To think of you going through all that,” he exclaimed.

“It was something fierce,” said the girl, solemnly.

“And you have no relatives or friends in the city?”

“None whatever.”

“I am all alone in the world, too,” said Rudolf, after a pause.

“I am glad of that,” said the girl, promptly; and somehow it pleased the young man to hear that she approved of his bereft condition.

Very suddenly her eyelids dropped and she sighed deeply.

“I’m awfully sleepy,” she said, “and I feel so good.”

Then Rudolf rose and took his hat. “I’ll say good-night. A long night’s sleep will be fine for you.”

He held out his hand, and she took it and said “good-night.” But her eyes asked a question so eloquently, so frankly and pathetically that he answered it with words.

“Oh, I’m coming back to-morrow to see how you are getting along. You can’t get rid of me so easily.”

— 

“The Green Door,” by O’Henry

The sweetest and most romantic story I know

New oneshot: Prepare for trouble and make it double

This is a oneshot for @teamrocketfanart. I hope you like it (the last part is a little bit short, BUT (SPOILER ALERT!) there will be a big wedding in my fanfiction “Until all eternity” if my readers want to. The next thing I’m going to upload is the tenth chapter of my longest story “UAE”. Have fun and thanks for your support :)

Prepare for trouble and make it double

Jessie, James and Meowth flew in a high arch through the air, eventually hitting the cold hard ground of an untraveled street surrounded by fancy terraced houses. The magenta-haired woman bobbed up, narrowed her eyes to a slit and tried to recognize the place in which they had landed. Jessie’s head was throbbing, the violent collision had caused a blurry and distorted vision. She staggered like a drunkard towards her team-mates.

„Where are we? This sure doesn’t look familiar to me,“ she wondered while culling her belongings that were spread over the sidewalk. Jessie reached for her ruby red lipstick and her grass-green earrings, stowing them into her leather pouch. James shook his head and sat up. His whole body trembled and he felt dizzy and disoriented. He couldn’t remember what happened before the impact. Why did they blast off again? Did they lose an encounter with the twerps? Did Pikachu give them a sample of his powerful electric moves? James had a quick glance at his partner and looked quite surprised.

„Jessie! What are you wearing?“ he was completely startled by her unusual sight and thought that this was a side effect of a possible concussion.

„What do you mean? I’m wearing my uniform, you fool!“
Jessie snorted derisively and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

„Dis is not yous uniform, Jess,“ Meowth put in his two cents. He made a stab at standing up, his knees were wobbly and he clinched to James’ arm to find his footing.

Jessie looked down at herself, carefully examining her dress. It was navy blue and speckled with white dots. The cut of the dress was elegant and reminded her of a picture she had seen in a vintage magazine. Her hands moved upwards, frisking her hair that was worn quite sleek and smooth, with a slight wave at the front. Her outstretched fingers passed gently over a scarlet red headband that was made of plastic. Two pearl earrings adorned her porcelain face. Jessie flashed a smile.

„Pass me your hand mirror, James! I want to admire my immortal beauty,“ she snatched at the item and looked at herself in the mirror.

„Truly unique!“ Jessie was really carried away by that pleasant sight. A flawless complexion and perfectly painted kissable lips. She was a feast for the eyes.

„What does this portend? Where are we?“ James asked, visibly frightened.

„Look over there!“ Meowth pointed at a poster stand only a few meters away. Team Rocket got back on their feet and walked up to the adverstising board that was lit by a streetlamp. There was a picture of a man with blonde hair and a pompadour. He grinned ear to ear, his fingers sliding over a piano keyboard. He was wearing a striped suit, his name was Jerry Lee Lewis. Jessie didn’t notice anything unusual at first glance. He was probably putting on a big concert in the city hall of this inconspicuous place, but James caught sight of the date and let out a scream. He couldn’t belive his eyes.

„It says the concert takes place tonight at nine o’clock,“ he swallowed hard.
„What’s so bad about it? Why are you flinching? You look as though you’d seen a ghost“, Jessie scolded

„Take a look at the date,“ he said with a quavering voice, pointing at the big brown number on the yellow background, right behind Lewis’ ears. Jessie and Meowth pushed their friend aside and stared at the ciphers disclosing the present year: 1957.Meowth’s jaw dropped, Jessie jumped out of her skin. She stepped back.

„How’s that even possible? Did we do some kind of time travel? Is this a feeble joke? Who wants to frame us?“ she worked herself up. James spotted a wrinkled piece of paper on the sidewalk. He picked it up and tried to smooth out the single pages.
He checked the date in the top right corner of the newspaper that confirmed their journey to the past.

„Pinch me! Maybe, this is just a dream and I’m about to wake up,“ Jessie asked and Meowth acceded to this request, but nothing changed. They were still standing next to the poster stand, unsettled and suspicious.

„This could be a test,“ James assumed. „They want to put us through our paces, they want to check our exercise capacity and see whether we’re able to deal with the pressures or not,“ he considered. Jessie was by no means convinced of James’ theory.

“Or maybe, we’re just victims of a mass hysteria,“ Meowth whispered.

„Maybe we’re no longer ourselves,“ Jessie presumed with regard to her superficial change.

Why would they send the trio back in time? This was a mystery which had to be solved.

Suddenly, they could hear footsteps coming closer. An elderly woman, clad in swamp green, called for a certain Lady Jessica.

„Quick! Go hide behind the bushes, we must not be seen together!“ Jessie ordered. James and Meowth jumped headfirst into the dense scrub and took cover. They peered through the brushwood in order to observe the scenery. The woman walked up to Jessie and grabbed her hands.

„I was sick with worry, Lady Jessica. Where have you been today?“ the elderly woman wanted to know. Jessie had no idea who that lady was. She had curly vermilion hair and steel-blue eyes.

„I was busy,“ Jessie answered, trying to come up with a credible excuse. The woman began to wipe the dirt off Jessie’s dress. „Look at you, totally soiled and your hair is more than tousled. We need to fix this before you’re going to meet John,“ she explained. Jessie’s eyes widened.

„Who’s John?“ Jessie asked, giving a jerk as the woman bored a metallic bobby pin into her scalp. She was coarse and didn’t handle Jessie with kid gloves.The elderly lady laughed out loud.

„You little jokester! John is your fiancé and tomorrow, you’re getting married,“ the woman exclaimed, ramming another barrette into Jessie’s hair.

„I’m getting married?“ Jessie was more than astonished.

„She’s getting married?“ James and Meowth whispered in unison. This was a major piece of news. „Who would marry a prickly character like Jessie?“ Meowth wonderd, casting the branches aside to obtain a better view of the curious events.

„Of course, you are. He’s a splendid specimen! You’ve greatly exceeded the nubile age, it’s time to marry you off to a decent and career oriented gentleman who cares for you and who offers you the possibilty to live a worry-free life!“

Jessie was blown away by the description of this man called John. She imagined him being tall and buff because he was working out every day. He had dark hair and chocolate eyes, an overwhelming smile, money and stocks in abundance. He was well trained, strong and a self-starter. He would shower her with compliments and gifts, provide her with an unlimited credit card

„I’m ready to meet my future husband,“ Jessie got into raptures, linked arms with the elderly lady and left her team-mates behind.

Meowth wanted to take the initiative and follow Jessie and that woman, but James held the he-cat back.

„Jimmy! What are yous doin’? We need to stop her,“ he shouted, baring his sharp claws.

„No, Meowth! Haven’t you seen the overjoyed expression on Jessie’s face? She was delighted with the thought of John. Who knows, he could be the right guy. She’s been dreaming about a regal wedding for so long and now, there’s the possibility to put this greatest wish into reality. We shouldn’t detain her from eternal happiness, let’s go,“ James stood up and ran deeper into the forest.

He couldn’t tell Meowth that Jessie’s decision had hit him especially hard. James was convinced that she enjoyed lving with Team Rocket, living with him. They’d spent so much time together. He had always tried to please her. James rememberd countless episodes of their common adventures. Jessie had protected him from the Ghost of Maiden’s Peak, he remembered her soft smile in their hot-air balloon when he had decided to choose Team Rocket over money and wealth, or her encouraging words in the shipwreck that threatened to take them down into the depths of the ocean. James always thought that he wasn’t all the same to Jessie, that he made part of her life and that she had found a loyal and trustworthy friend in him. There was this song playing in his head, he recalled the lyrics that described their relationship right on the mark:

You were the rain falling on my skin
Yeah, I was dying when you pulled me in
I was your rebel and you were my girl
It was us against the world


But apparently he had been deceived in Jessie. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she was gone. Jessie was about to meet John, a paragon, a doer, a man of the world and very likely the complete opposite of James.

Jessie was led to an old manor with a grey facade and dark green window shutters at the end of the street. The Team Rocket-member spotted three figures behind the curtains. She recognized a woman with an updo and two men sitting at the table, sipping tea or coffee out of tiny ceramic mugs. The elderly lady, called Patricia, opened the entrance door and yield to Jessie. The young woman entered the manor and was welcomed by a man with short white hair and a giant moustache. He bowed down in front of Jessie, linked arms with her and guided her to the kitchen. There was a man sitting with his back to the agent and the woman behind the curtains proved to be a lady in her late 50ies, wearing a pastel yellow high waist Vivien swing skirt.

„Jessica!“ she exclaimed and ran up to Jessie in order to hug her and place a tender kiss on her cheeks. Jessie kept calm and wasn’t trying to get away, although she felt anything but comfortable in this position.

„Look who’s here,“ the woman smiled all over her face and Jessie was more than impatient to finally meet her future husband, the man of her sacred dreams. He stood up and turned around, that’s when Jessie experienced the strongest horror in her life.

John looked exactly like James, the same eye colour, the same lavender hair, they could definitely pass off as twins.

„Good evening, Jessica,“ even the voices were identic. Jessie was quite shocked. John reached for her hand and kissed it. She giggled and blushed deeply, unable to cope with this situation. Jessie began to laugh hysterically.

„This is a joke, right? Where are the cameras? You got me,“ she chuckled.
„James, you’re such an idiot,“ Jessie clipped the man standing in front of her. John was perplex. Why did his fiancée Jessica act like that, completely out of sorts? She couldn’t calm herself, it was too much.

„Jessica, is everything okay with you?“ he asked her, caressing her hand as she was still laughing herself to tears.

„Stop calling me Jessica. Who’s the brain behind this? Meowth?“ Jessie wondered.

„There is no Meowth. What is wrong with you? I think it’s the edginess that is driving you crazy. You can’t wait to marry me,“ John hugged Jessie and gently fixed a flyway hair.
She immediately released herself from that tight embrace.

„Stop it! It’s not funny! Why are you doing this to me, James?“ Jessie was slowly getting annoyed.

„Sweetheart, my name is John,“ he confirmed. There was only one way to prove her theory. Jessie reached for John’s trouser pocket because she knew that James stored his crown cap collection in there, but she grasped at nothing. This wasn’t a prank, she was really facing her future husband, looking like that pathetic guy she spent so many years with.

„May I talk to you privately?“ he asked her. Jessie nodded, gradually realizing that John meant business. She followed him to the kitchen and he closed the door behind them.

The kitchen was extremly colourful, but looked old-fashioned. She spotted stainless steel counters, which blended beautifully with the warm quality of wood and plaster surfaces throughout the room. There were a classic red espresso coffe pot, a scale, a magnetic kitchen timer, a set of three storage containers on the tray and a few milk pint bottles ready for use, eggs were frying in the pan.

John wrapped his arms around her waist. „You’re going to be the perfect housewife, spending hours over a hot stove, cleaning the house and windows and feeding our children,“ he smiled softly at her, but Jessie flashed her eyes at him.

„Get your hands off me,“ she yelled, pushing her fiancé away.

„Do you really think I’m going to be that dependent and naive dolly who prepares breakfast for her committed spouse? Listen to me, my friend, the only thing I’m going to do in this kitchen is slamming that roasting pan right into your face!“ Jessie was red from anger.

That’s not how she imagined her marriage. She was a headstrong woman, the leader of her former trio, the dominant and strong-willed person, but this was 1957 and powerful post-World War II propaganda encouraged women to seek husbands, settle down and have babies. Women who enrolled in higher education often did so in order to improve their domestic skills, but Jessie was a rebel and she wouldn’t let John or his family lower her to a level of a mere kitchen utensil. Jessie was emancipated and a feared Team Rocket-agent. No one was allowed to mortify her, she clearly called the shots.

The grip on her shoulders grew stronger. „You’re going to obey me, Jessica. You belong to me,“ John whispered with a threatening undertone. „There is no way back. Our parents agreed on this wedding and now it’s our task to please and not disappoint them,“ he added. Jessie tried to release herself from his firm grip. She fought tooth and nail against his arms, eventually able to break away from John.

Patricia stepped into the kitchen and witnessed the discrepancies between the couple.
„What’s going on?“ she exclaimed, observing Jessie running for cover behind the cooking island.

„You can’t force me to marry him!“ Jessie shouted, she was all churned up inside.

„You can’t buck the trend, it’s your duty to become a good housewife and mother, so don’t be reluctant to enter into marriage,“ Patricia impended.

The elderly lady and John began to slowly walk up to Jessie, trying to calm her down, but the Team Rocket-member was faster, pressed the door handle of the rear exit and rushed out into the cool night.

Jessie began to run as fast as her legs would carry her. She got past countless lighted row houses and a well-groomed park. Thousands of thoughts circled endlessly in her mind and developed into a torment. Why had she always been unlucky in love? John wasn’t the first man who tried to change her manner. She remembered a guy called Sebastian who had tried to turn her into a submissive and obedient woman without own will. She remembered Toni who had exploited her to such an extent that she began to feel disgusted with herself. Men were known to bring bad luck. A disappointment followed the next. She always caught a Tartar, she struggled to swallow the tears which choked in her  throat.

Finally, Jessie stopped in front of a bar and set foot in it. The pub was crowded. Men and women were high-spiritedly dancing, drinking and celebrating. A band played some wild Rock’n’Roll-music and had to watch out for flying bottles and glasses. The magenta-haired woman cleaved a way to the bar counter and sat down on a stool. She ordered a strong drink and reached for snacks and peanuts in a little black bowl. At first, she didn’t even notice that someone approached her, until she felt a soft squeeze on her shoulder.

„Jessie?“ a male voice said. She turned around and stared into two emerald-green eyes. James was standing behind her, slapping on a faint smile.

„James,“ Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck, still fighting to hold back her tears.
„I’m so glad to see you,“ she whispered. Meowth jumped on the bar counter and sat down next to his team-member. James realized that something was bothering his best friend. He returned the gesture and pulled her gently towards him.

„What’s wrong? Don’t you like your future husband?“ he asked her. Jessie didn’t want to show any weaknesses, she who always proclaimed that feelings were for wimps, but she reached a point where she could no more get a hold of herself.

„It’s terrible!“ she whimpered. James took a napkin and wiped her tears away.

„Tell me,“ he surprised her with his caring side.

„They want to force me to marry a macho. He’s so convinced of himself, he wants me to be a hausfrau, he wants me to cook, clean and watch after our unborn babies. They want to break my spirit and I cannot permit that! I’m a strong person, James, and I don’t want anybody to hector me! I’m independent, I’m a feared Team Rocket-agent, for goodness sake! I don’t want them to prey upon me, that’s just not my world. I do have an own will, I do have objectives and no one is going to demote me to a mere kitchen utensil! The problem is that there’s no way I could escape this wedding, it’s settled and there’s no chance to take off and bunk,“ she unburdened herself of her tragic situation. James could relate to her concerns, something similar was waiting for him if he would ever turn back to his parents and his domineering fiancée Jessiebelle. That’s why he wanted to stay out of marital matters.  „And the worst part about it is that he looks like you,“ Jessie sobbed.

„Well thanks,“ James felt a little bit offended by her remark. That’s when Meowth got the perfect idea.

„Wait a minute,“ he looked at James and scowled.
„Yous said that he looks like Jimmy, why don’t yous replace ya future husband with him?“ the scratch-cat proposed, pointing at James. Jessie raised her eyes.

„That sure could work,“ she considered. James blanched and loosened his collar.

„No way! I’m not marrying you,“ his voice was shaky. He swallowed hard and began to sweat.

„Where’s da difference, Jimmy. Yous two are acting love-love all da dime,“ Meowth replied, convinced that his fraud would bear fruit.

„But, but Jessie and I are just friends,“ James stammered, scared at the thought of entering into marriage. One part of him was able to acquire a taste for a sincere relationship with Jessie, for he had developed romantic feelings for her over that past few years, but the other part strived against this idea. He was afraid that Jessie would turn out to be an even worse partner than his dreadful fiancée and that he would suffer for the rest of his life, servile and abulic.

„What about da hugs, what about yous holding hands?“ Meowth broached the subject again.

„Purely amicable,“ James set the record straight.

„And what about that incident at the waterfalls? Don’t you remember?“ Jessie tried to jog his memory. James thought back to the night in July when he and Jessie had made out under the moonlight. Both had been squiffy and excited.  After emptying a bottle of cheap wine, he had taken the initative and crushed his lips on Jessie’s. James had kissed her in the most passionate way and she fell for his display of affection. It had been a memorable but unique moment.

„Blame the wine,“ he replied with no guilty feeling.

„Come’on James, please! Do me this favour. It’s just a fake marriage, the only thing I want to do is deceive them and restore my well-deserved freedom. We exchange our vow rings, take some pictures with the guests and disappear in our hot-air balloon as soon as they turn their backs on us, please“, Jessie begged. Normally, she wasn’t the person who would call for assistance and help, she was convinced to solve all major problems on her own, being tough and self-confindent, but tonight was different, James and Meowth had to bail her out.


„What do you want me to do, Jess?“ James was anything but pleased with the idea, but he had realized that his best friend was in need of support.


„You two have to kidnap John, tie him to the heating, steal his suit and the rings and get ready for the ultimate ploy,“ Jessie explaind, rubbing her hands.

„I think I’ve got no alternative left but to meet your request,“ he sighed and hung his head in discontent.


„Thank you,“ Jessie wasn’t actually averse to marrying James. Sure, there have been wrangles and they’ve delivered fierce blows to each in the past, but on the whole, he had always been loyal and attentive. James nodded silently and he and Meowth set out for a nocturnal abduction.

It didn’t take them long to track John down. Jessie had described them the way to the old manor, and her future husband was sleeping in the beautifully equipped sitting room. Meowth used his claws to make a hole into the giant glass window and the Team Rocket-members tiptoed stock-still to the dusky pink couch, trussed John and shut him up as he began to scream and shout.

„Hmm, there are some similarities,“ James looked at the lavender-haired man, „but he can’t hold a candle to me,“ he determined.

James threw his doppelganger over his shoulders and he, Meowth and the unfortunate soul left the building as quickly as they had come. John tried desperately to stand up to James, but the agent pulled the ropes and silenced the braggart. Meowth switched on the torch and searched for a suitable garden shed to lock the future spouse up. They pushed him into the small cottage, took off John’s last piece of clothing, snatched at the vow rings and padlocked the doors.

„That was the easy part of Jessie’s plan,“ James sighed, the rings in his hand. Both were silver, the smaller one had a tiny diamond on top. ‚Jessie would love it,’ he thought and stowed the box in his trousers.

It was the day of the wedding. Jessie was wearing an ivory gown with floral applique with a sheer tulle panel at the neckline and a dreamy ball skirt. She applied some mascara and lipstick to stand out above the crowd. James was already standing on the altar, nervous and with sweaty hands. Meowth bore him company, dressed in a neat dark brown garb, a flower looking out of his breast pocket. Then the time came, the music played and Jessie, her face covered with a veil, walked down the aisle. The priest welcomed his protégés, thanked them and the guests and introduced the purpose of this gathering. After the opening blessings he asked Jessie and James to turn face to face to each other and to express the sincere promises to each other. James took out a note from his trousers and began to read the lines:

„Jessie, my partner, my companion, my safe haven,“ his voice was shaky. „We’ve been togehter for so many years,“ he choked, took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the words written on that tiny little piece of paper.

„I can’t imagine a life without you,“ he was more than close to tears.

„Thank you for,“ James sobbed heart-rendingly, not able to talk anymore. Jessie grinned under the veil and caressed his cheeks.
„It’s okay,“ she whispered, so that only James could hear it.

„The groom is terribly nervous,“ the priest joked and everyone laughed out loud.

„Let’s skip this part, okay?“ Jessie suggested and James nodded in agreement.
„We both know why we want to stay together,“ she added, reaching for his hand.

„John, do you take Jessica to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her?“

„I do,“ James replied.

„And do you, Jessica, take John to be your husband?“

„I do,“ was Jessie’s answer.

James took out the rings and placed the smaller one on Jessie’s finger. „Jessie, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.“  The priest observed the scenery and eventually pronounced them as husband and wife.

„You may now kiss the bride,“ he said. James leaned in and was about to place a tender kiss on Jessie’s lips and then she woke up.

Jessie was sitting bolt upright in her bed. She glanced over to James who was still snoring and asleep. It had only been a dream, she didn’t have to marry John nor James. She was back in the presence, far away from the 50ies, far away from strict rules. ‚That was a strange dream. Why would I want to get married to James?’ she asked herself. Was this really only a dream or possibly some undisclosed desires?

Good End Eleanor Dialogue
Bioshock 2
Good End Eleanor Dialogue

And then father, the Rapture dream was over. You taught me that ‘evil’ is just a word. Under the skin, it’s simple pain. For you, mercy was victory. You sacrificed, you endured, and when given the chance, you forgave. Always. Mother believed this world was irredeemable, but she was wrong, Father. We are Utopia, you and I, and in forgiving, we left the door open for her. The Rapture dream is over, but in waking I am reborn. This world is not ready for me, yet here I am. It would be so easy to misjudge them. You are my conscience father, and I need you to guide me. You will always be with me now, father, your memories, your drives. And when I need you, you’ll be there on my shoulder whispering. If Utopia is not a place, but a people, then we must choose carefully, for the world is about to change, and in our story, Rapture was just the beginning.

You won't regret it

So…

I read.

And I read a fuck ton, when I have time, of course.

And there’s so much out there to read and cry over with a scoop of ice cream or a bottle of scotch; I prefer the latter, but heyyyoooo drink responsibly and legally, kids. There’s so, so, many great stories there ready for you, waiting for you to find them and be engrossed in it. Those words. Those characters. The scenery. The prose and pace. My god, the plot. *hyperventilates*

And if you’re deprived of a good reading like I was, dozens of moons and late-night burgers back, look no further than Receiver of Many by Rachel Alexander. This, my friends, is special. Very special.

This book first started as a fanfiction (it’s nothing anything like 50 Shades of Lameo or those good fanfics that were last updated in 2007, if you’re scared), and it’s a retelling of the Greek myth of the rapture of Persephone, and sweet Jesus, you need to read this. Not even kidding, I highly recommend this. Why? Because of its twists of the ancient myth, the fleshing out of the Olympian gods’ character development, the budding romance of Hades and Persephone (the sex is extremely hot and sexy btw; 10/10, yo), the amount of effort in the author put into making this for herself and for us to enjoy too (she knows her history, and did her research thoroughly, this lady knows what’s up, yo).

If you’re tired of the same “boy meets girl and instant facebook relationship #love5ever” type of story around your dashboard, then book is for you. It’s cheap, you support an independent author, you get a good time reading it (knowing the myth or not), it’s available on paperback and digital, it has strong female characters that are not one dimensional!!!, a hella good and detailed plot, sexy times in great detail (it’s romance/erotica; be responsible if you’re 18 and under, yo), all the plot twists that come back each time, badass Hades defending his flower, Persephone being her fabulous self and maturing as the story goes on, more development of Demeter and her maternal role, and the ending!!!

So, yeah.

If you need a good reading that keeps you up at night biting your nails chapter after chapter and having all the feels imaginable (and you will have all the feels, trust me), then this is for you. I’m telling you, you won’t regret it at all. I wouldn’t recommend something I didn’t like to read and reread (someone talk to me about this, because damn, that ending tho).

So, what’re you waiting for, dottie? Join this love club.

“No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. ‘My dear, dear aunt,’ she rapturously cried, ‘what delight! What felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are men to rocks and mountains? Oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! And when we do return, it shall not be like other travellers, without being able to give one accurate idea of any thing. We will know where we have gone–we will recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers, shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor, when we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarrelling about its relative situation. Let our first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travelers.’”

Feysand: Jealousy

Anon: Can you write a feysand one shot where one of Rhys’s ex lovers comes back and Feyre gets jealous?

As always this was super fun to write, and a lot longer than I expected but I just got a little carried away! Hopefully its slightly less angsty than my last one… although let’s be real, i’m a sucker for angst! Also a huge thank you to @a-court-of-fanfiction-and-fandom who gave this a read for me a few days ago and had such lovely things to say (and also has a great Feysand fic in the works which I got a sneaky peak at!) 
Enjoy!

Parties were frequent in Velaris in the decades following the resolution of the war. Its citizens were so grateful that their freedom and way of life hadn’t been ripped away from them by an evil tyrant that there always seemed to be a cause to celebrate. Almost every weekend there was some kind of party, ranging from a small private occasion confined to a few families, to huge court-wide dances, usually held in the courtyard just outside of the High Lord and Lady’s official residence. They were always amazing occasions to attend, no matter the size, the air of relief and jubilation in the city still hadn’t faded 10 years since the final battle against Hybern when the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, along with hundreds of brave souls from their court managed to defeat the king, Jurian and their armies, restoring peace across all of Prythian.

Tonight was a decade since that final battle, a day that had become a national holiday across Prythian, celebrated nowhere more spectacularly than in the Night Court, the place that felt the effects of the war most fiercely. 10 years since the war marked the biggest celebration yet in the Night Court, the festivities months and months in the planning. The days leading up to the ball were a flurry of activity in Velaris, the streets decorated and adorned with banners of glittering black and silver. As Feyre looked out of the large windows in her room, she thought to herself that Velaris had never looked more beautiful. Fitting for a city with the most beautiful High Lady darling she heard her mate’s voice purr like silk down the mating bond and she chuckled to herself, able to feel the smirk on Rhys’s face at his smooth compliments even though he was someone else in the house. They both had gotten into the habit of keeping a tiny gap in their mental shields for each other so they could communicate easily and sense each other when they weren’t together. Not one to ever let him get away with flirting remarks so easy she quickly cut back across the bond Rhysand I’m the only High Lady… I’d be a little surprised if I wasn’t the most beautiful! She heard his chuckle in real life from down the hallway, slowly approaching as he walked up the stairs to their chambers.

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Bioshock Characters (5/?): Charles Milton Porter:

I lived through the Blitz, Pearl, and the fall of Rapture. They took my memory, my voice, everything that made me a man. But nothing ever scared me so much as saying goodbye. I wanted to save you. I couldn’t resist trying to bring you back the only way I knew how. But you didn’t want that. I know it now, and I think I’m finally ready to let you go your way.

(ao3 link) Dean Smith fucks twink!Cas against the big window in his fancy office. All kinks and whatnot are in my tags.

Castiel Novak was getting to know the thick, sturdy, wrap-around glass window in Dean Smith’s office quite intimately. Currently, he was specifically getting to know its soothing, cooling effect on his front while the rest of his body was burning from being thoroughly tongue-fucked by the man who owned the office said window was located in.

It was a couple hours after everyone else had gone home, no one else in the sleek, corporate building, and Dean hadn’t bothered to shut off any of the warm white lights in his luxurious executive office. Anyone in any of the nearby buildings at their height was sure to be able to see straight inside, and that knowledge coupled with the sloppy sounds of Dean’s supple lips and soft tongue lavishing over his sensitive hole had Castiel’s cheeks flaming hotter with excitement and his cock dripping precome onto the smooth glass.

An empty feeling overwhelmed him and his backside felt significantly cooler as Dean pulled away, and Cas whimpered at the loss. Despite his disappointment, he still kept his hands firmly in place where Dean had told him to: spreading the firm globes of his ass apart for Dean’s viewing delight, as well as for making it easier to rim him. A sharp stinging slap against his hole shocked him into a full-body twitch, and he almost came immediately, barely holding back, as Dean hadn’t given him permission for release yet.

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