#far from refuge
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nightbynightfly · 1 month ago
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An Album a Day 2024: Day 276
Oct. 2, 2024
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God Is an Astronaut - Far From Refuge (2007)
Post-rock, Instrumental
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gbhbl · 4 months ago
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EP Review: Far From Refuge - False Flag (Self Released)
One of those bands who refuse to be constrained by genre terms, Far from Refuge might be predominantly a progressive metal band, but it is their wild array of creative ideas that helps make them standout.
Diverse Brit prog metal crew, Far from Refuge, lay down a significant marker in the form of their blistering new EP, ‘False Flag’, which lands on July 19th, 2024. One of those bands who refuse to be constrained by genre terms, Far from Refuge might be predominantly a progressive metal band, but it is their wild array of creative ideas that helps make them standout. Creative ideas that draw from…
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spiritofpassionfruit · 1 month ago
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A–Aventio TGCF idea?? Wherein Civil God Veritas Ratio meets the infamous Ghost King Aventurine during his first mission cuz cuz like— The "live for me" paralels?!? The one who has all the luck partner as well?!? The villain who was actually not the Villain this whole time!?!? The loving humanity a little too much it causes their downfall !?!?!?
Rant AU in the tags proceed with caution
#Okay to put it into better words:#Veritas having once being a prince wanted to give everyone the prosperity of knowledge and became a civil god in the pursuit of it.#Sadly this backfires in people using that knowledge for their own greed and creating civil wars within it as well as unleashing far more#Destruction upon the land. And the other gods didn't help Veritas in stopping that bc see that's what happens when people overshare info!!#So the aftermath is just pure chaos plus banishment from being a civil god and thrown as this god of war and plague.#800 years passes and he is seen to just still be doing the same things but I a simple term. Teaching people to read and count.#Often times taking up mission and doing research on new pathogens to help cure the sick that can't afford and somehow during a reading#Lecture he gets ascended back to godhood and everyone is like ??? And even he is like ???#Well he doesn't care much about it and just continues to do what he's always done. Except that once in a while he has to take a detour#Mission to deal with ghosts and other malignant spirits. And upon one of those recurrences he finds himself aquaintanced with#The infamous Ghost King Aventurine. Who is mostly feared in heaven due to having beaten the strongest and wisest at their own games. Even#When the odds where fully against him.#As for Aventurine.#His life was harsh but as the prince had given a lot to the people#Not just education but also free them of diseases and sickness. One of which had struck his sister. He liked the prince and wanted to#Follow in giving and protecting the prosperity of the former kingdom. But the good things did not last and his family was struck in between#The many wars that took place. No matter how much refuge Kakavasha and his sister sought no place was ever#Safe enough for them.#He watched the entire world go up in flames yet somehow he could hate the prince-god for it. But rather the people who had started to#Create weapons in his name. The rest of his years he spent it as a warrior slave and then when death reached him he couldn't even go to#The afterlife since he still held so much vigor and wanted revenge to all the people who had turned his land into ashes and his family#Into bones. That is why he became a mourning ghost.#(I didn't want the kakavasha story to be so centered on ratio like it is in tgcf. Because I think it will be fun for the two of them to#Not recognize each other at first after 800 years and then when they do. Rather when aven does he's full on: oh shit it's the cute prince—#As for who was the cause of the upheaval in the kingdom and the maker of the weapons. Idk I was debating there being more than just one#Antagonist to have pulled their strings in verita's kingdom as well as be the reason Aven's sister died. So he's more revenge seeking for t#And the genius society as civil gods just spoke to me it for so perfectly. Ling wen as Ruan mei? Yeah exactly.#ratiorine#Aventio#Dr ratio
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v-arbellanaris · 1 year ago
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To be clear, I'm sending this ask not to start an argument but because talking about S/amson's morality as a subject interests me. This is all intended politely, though I am bad at tone. While my personal thoughts on S/amson's stuff in act 3 are a little complicated (shit of him to do, and they have him be excited about the annulment on the templar route, the latter of which I do have to wonder if they did simply bc the writers hate addicts (they do) or not. Still it did happen and it IS odd when people try to act like he had less part in the attempted genocide of the gallows than C/ullen, who was way more hesitant than S/amson), how did you come to the conclusion that he was purposefully throwing mages at slavers? He says pretty explicitly that he didn't know and was trying to get mages out of Kirkwall, are you assuming he's lying or is there some extra information I'm missing? I guess I could see why he might lie here if that was his intention, but I don't… really think he is? there's nothing to point to it? I see "he gave mages to a slaver" as a point a lot in the S/amson discourse, but I don't know how people are coming to the conclusion that he wasn't genuinely doing the best with the no resources he had at that moment, and the smuggler he was using ended up being a slaver without his knowledge. This being said, the fandom posing him as super good compared to C/ullen is really weird, and while I understand why it happens, it is frustrating seeing people ignore his blatent flaws.
do i think he deliberately gave mages over to slavers? no, i don't think that. i also don't think a lack of deliberateness absolves him of blame. k/irkwall is notorious for slavers - how many do we kill in game? we find a bunch just hanging out in lowtown, and the docks, and near the wounded coast. but the guy who lives on the edge of the docks never suspects that the man taking runaways for free is a slaver?
with regards to f/eynriel, s/amson is very explicit about how he didn't help f/eynriel as much as possible because he didn't have money. instead, he directs f/eynriel to a ship captain he knows. he knew the slaver, and he sent both o/livia and f/eynriel to him. when h/awke says "of course your friend's a kidnapper", s/amson quickly says r/einer's not a friend, but someone who "isn't scared to try out this business". but what business is he referring to? f/eynriel doesn't have coin, that's the entire reason s/amson turned him away. what other reason does a ship captain in kirkwall HAVE to take people on for free? s/amson deliberately sends f/eynriel to someone else to deal with. and when he heard rumours that person was selling people, what did he do? nothing, until h/awke comes looking.
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noxexistant · 6 months ago
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i miss my wife (santa fe sour)
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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year ago
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ough. ew. far-right transphobic political ad. icky. wrong person to advertise that to buddy
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samerpal · 5 months ago
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"First, I would like to thank everyone who supported me.🙏🌹
This is my new platform, friends, after my old platform was deleted for reasons unknown to me.
I ask for your help in sharing my story again to keep hope alive for me and my family, friends.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.♥️
My family and I appreciate your cooperation and hope to reach the desired goal and save us.🙏
Attached are the verification links for the old account from the supporters.
Link vetted by @ibtisams
Link vetted by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi
Link vetted by @sar-soor
My approved number by the families in need and endorsed by the supervisors is 196."
@90-ghost @ibtisams @nabulsi @aces-and-angels @sar-soor @sayruq @fairuzfan @palestinegenocide @vakarians-babe @northgazaupdates @northgazaupdates2
Trapped Family in Gaza Appeals for Help to Survive 🕊️🇵🇸🙏
I Samer Abu Ras, am reaching out to you with a heartfelt humanitarian appeal, after the ongoing war in Gaza has cast its dark shadow over my life and the lives of my family. Our lives were once filled with peace and stability before the onset of this catastrophe, but now, we find ourselves living in a situation described as nothing short of tragic.
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My wife, Shurooq, our three children, and I are now homeless, without a source of income, and without hope for the future. My family and I have lost our businesses and our home due to the war, and we now have nothing left but the cold streets and troubled hearts.
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My children are suffering greatly as a result of these horrific events. They have lost the security and stability they once enjoyed and are now facing new health and psychological challenges that threaten their lives. As a father and husband, I feel powerless in my ability to provide adequate protection and care for them.
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My child, who is a year and a half old, is experiencing hardships far beyond his tender age. Since the war broke out, we had to flee our home and seek refuge in a tent in a displacement camp. My child lives in extremely difficult conditions, deprived of safety and stability. The tent does not provide adequate protection from harsh weather, and food and medicine are scarce. My child suffers from malnutrition and illness, lacking basic healthcare. He cannot play or grow in a healthy and suitable environment. My only dream is to see him grow up in a safe place full of opportunities
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In the face of difficult circumstances, Samer Abu Ras and his family find themselves facing serious challenges in their daily lives. They reside in a modest tent lacking comfort and security, suffering from a shortage of clean water and food, and encountering difficulties in accessing necessary healthcare. Despite these challenges, they continue to express hope and resilience in confronting adversity, holding onto hope for a better tomorrow and a return to a more stable and secure life.
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I appeal to you today, dear friends, to extend to me a helping hand in escaping this hell. Regardless of the size of the donation, every drop of generosity will contribute to alleviating our suffering and rebuilding our lives anew.
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We need your help to secure the funds necessary to travel away from these destructive wars and seek a safe and stable environment where we can build a better future for our children
Let us stand together in these difficult times and let hope triumph over despair by providing support and assistance to those in dire need. Let us be part of the solution and build a better future for ourselves and future generations.
Thank you for listening and for the potential generosity of your giving, and for your generous donations that will change the lives of my family for the better.
With sincere gratitude and appreciation
‏Samer Abu Ras and family.
@heba-20 @soon-palestine @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @nabulsi @sayruq @communistchilchuck @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @three-croissants @interfacefox @appsa @akajustmerry @feluka @flower-tea-fairies @90-ghost @victoriawhimsey @ficsforgaza @aria-ashryver @mangocheesecakes @humanvoicebox @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @palestinegenocide @ghost-and-a-half @bibyebae @heritageposts @norrriey 🍉🌹🍉✍️
🌹🍉🇵🇸❤️🌹🍉🇵🇸❤️🌹🍉
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winxanity-ii · 1 month ago
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SACRILEGIOUS DEVOTION [1/3]
ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: So, Father Charlie is out here losing all his morals and sanity on Grotesquerie and my mind couldn't help but match it, so what's a better idea other than channeling all the religious trauma/journey into a spicy one-shot? i for one feel like it's a mini-therapy, but enough rambling, enjoy 😩🫶🏾 i'm in love with a holy man, mother 😔…. second part: 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 and final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★
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Father Charlie Mayhew was a sick man.
Not in the manner of flesh, but of spirit. He could feel the sickness festering in the quiet corners of his heart, a sinful yearning that had taken root there, twisting itself around his thoughts like creeping ivy.
It was a sickness that, he believed, made him a grotesque parody of the holy man he was meant to be. For how could he call himself righteous, devoted, when every whisper of prayer felt stained by the way his eyes followed you, Sister ____?
You were a vision of purity, an embodiment of the kind of gentle devotion that Father Charlie envied and craved all at once.
He watched you from a distance, always careful not to draw your gaze, afraid of what you might see if you looked too deeply. How dutiful you were, sweeping the church aisle with a focus that made him forget the dust and see only the graceful motion of your hands.
The sun, filtered through stained glass, seemed to seek you out, casting colors on your habit as if to mark you as someone far beyond his grasp, almost holy in your mundane tasks.
It was in the mornings, when he heard the soft chime of your laughter in the courtyard as you fed the pigeons, that he felt the deepest sting of his wretchedness.
The world seemed simpler in those moments, your laughter echoing off the stone walls, the warmth of early sun painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. He wondered if you knew how your kindness drew even the animals to you, their heads dipping into your palms as if receiving communion.
There was a stillness to you, a gentleness in every gesture.
The worst of it was during your services. Father Charlie had seen you on your knees before, hands folded in earnest prayer, your lips moving softly as you whispered your devotion to God.
He would stand at the back of the chapel, watching with a mixture of awe and something far darker. He told himself it was admiration, but the truth festered beneath that facade.
It was longing, a hunger that ached at the edges of his soul.
A storm raged outside the convent one evening, winds battering the church walls with a fury that mirrored the tempest building in his chest. The clouds were bloated, dark as his thoughts, and thunder rolled across the sky with a violence that shook even the faith he held so dear.
You had come to his chambers in the dead of night, your knock barely audible over the howling wind. He had been preparing for bed, freshly out of the shower, wearing only his boxers when he heard you at the door.
The creak of the old wood seemed to echo forever as he opened it, and there you stood, eyes wide, looking so impossibly fragile in the dim candlelight of the corridor. Your modest night slip clung to your form, the thin fabric shifting in the draft that sneaked in from the hallway.
Charlie's breath had caught in his throat at the sight of you, innocence incarnate, seeking refuge with him.
He hesitated for only a moment before allowing you in, quickly wrapping himself in a silk robe that hung loosely on his shoulders, barely tied. He knew he should not let you enter, but there was something in the way you looked at him—so trusting, so devoted—that made him abandon every rational thought.
You had come asking to pray with him, your soft voice trembling as you spoke. The storm outside seemed like a reflection of the turmoil within him as he let you step past the threshold, closing the door behind you.
Now, you were here, kneeling before him, your eyes upturned and wide, waiting for his command, for his instruction like the obedient servant of God that you were.
Your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts, a gentle, "Father...?"
Charlie could only lament to himself how sinfully pure you looked. He hummed softly, his eyes dark as they trailed over you, lingering on the curve of your shoulders, the delicate line of your neck.
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across your skin, highlighting the innocence that made his hunger all the more unbearable.
"Yes, forgive me, Sister. Let us now pray," he finally said, his voice low and rough, the words nearly swallowed by the sound of the wind outside. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead, and you leaned into the touch without hesitation, your eyes closing as if his hand was a blessing.
He swallowed hard, his thoughts spiraling deeper into the forbidden desires he had tried so desperately to keep buried.
He began to pray, his voice low, raspy, each word a struggle against the chaos inside him. "Heavenly Father, we come before you tonight..." But the words felt hollow, their meaning slipping away as he watched you, kneeling so obediently at his feet.
His eyes darkened, wandering further down, tracing the lines of your form. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath—it all seemed to pull him further from the sanctity of the moment.
He should have been thinking of God, of salvation, of the purity of the prayer—but instead, he was thinking of you, of the way the thin fabric clung to your skin, the soft curve of your breasts visible through the modest slip.
He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on the delicate line of your collarbone, the way it rose and fell with each breath you took.
The more he spoke, the less the words mattered. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, spreading through his body, his thoughts growing more erratic, each word of the prayer slipping further from its sacred meaning, twisting into something profane, something filthy. "Protect us from all evil..." he whispered as he traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, the words a bitter irony as he felt himself drawn further into the darkness of his desires.
His hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat. His touch was gentle, but there was a weight behind it, a hunger that he could no longer deny.
He could almost see the curve of your bare skin beneath the thin fabric, the outline of your body that he should not be imagining. He tried to focus on the prayer, but every word felt like a lie. He let out a shaky breath, the prayer faltering on his lips. "Guide us... guide us in your light," he managed, his voice thick with the weight of his longing.
The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if to warn him, but Father Charlie could no longer hear it. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears as he looked down at you, so trusting, so willing.
As the final words of the prayer fell from his lips—"Amen"—you echoed him, your voice soft and unwavering. You blinked open your eyes, looking up at him with such innocence and Charlie felt himself slip past the point of no return.
He knew that no amount of prayer could ever cleanse him of what he wanted, that he could no longer pretend, no longer fight against the pull that drew him to you—the sweet, precious nun who had unknowingly captured his very soul.
Father Charlie stood, his robe slipping slightly from his shoulders, exposing the toned muscle beneath. The wind howled outside, and thunder bellowed again, followed by a flash of lightning that lit the room in a brief, startling blaze of white.
You were still kneeling before him, your wide eyes following his every movement, the flickering light casting you in both shadow and radiance.
Charlie bent at the waist, his fingers reaching out to cup your jaw, thumb caressing your bottom lip as his half-lidded eyes trailed over your face. "Sister ____," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of affection, his name for you almost reverent, as though you were something sacred, something he could worship in his own unholy way.
You blinked, shifting slightly beneath his touch, a soft stutter escaping your lips. "F-Father...?"
He grasped one of your hands, his fingers wrapping around yours, and as he stood, he gently urged you to rise with him. His gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and full of something raw. He began to speak, his voice barely more than a murmur, the words heavy with confession. "As a man of God, there are expectations placed upon me," he started, his tone wavering between remorse and something darker, something that made his grip on your hand tighten. "I am meant to guide, to protect, to remain steadfast in my faith."
His other hand moved, slowly pulling your trembling hand against his bare stomach, pressing your palm against the hard planes of his abdomen.
You gasped, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, your hand trembling beneath his. The heat of his skin burned into your palm, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.
Charlie continued, his voice lowering, growing more intense as he spoke. "But these days... these days, Sister, I find myself at war. At war with desires that threaten to consume me..." His words trailed off, and he let out a low hum as he rubbed your hand across his stomach, the movement slow, deliberate.
Your hand hesitated for a moment, the warmth of his skin making you tremble as you instinctively pulled back. But his grip was firm, guiding you back, and slowly, tentatively, your fingers splayed across his stomach, your touch feather-light.
You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering down before you took a timid step closer, as if drawn by some invisible force. Your gaze shifted to the side, your cheeks warming with embarrassment at the proximity, at the way you could feel his heart beating beneath your palm.
Father Charlie's eyes never left you, and he could see every ounce of hesitation, every flicker of uncertainty that danced across your face. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against your forehead as he spoke, his voice a low murmur, "There's no need to be afraid, Sister. You are safe here... with me."
You blinked, your lashes fluttering as you dared to look up at him, your eyes meeting his through the veil of uncertainty.
There was something in his gaze, something dark and magnetic that pulled at you, made your pulse race. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw; the touch almost comforting, but there was an intensity behind it that made you shiver.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.
You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice to speak, your fingers trembling slightly against his skin. He smiled, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips, and he hummed again, satisfied with your silent answer.
His other hand moved to rest against the small of your back, pulling you just a little bit closer, his robe parting further, exposing more of his chest.
Your breath hitched as you felt the distance between you closing, the way his body seemed to envelop yours. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the storm of emotions and the strange, electric pull you felt toward him.
His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he watched you. You felt your pulse quicken, your knees weakening under the intensity of his gaze.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and something darker, something that made your heart pound even harder. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your body react, leaning in just slightly, as if craving more of his warmth, his touch.
His fingers trailed lower, coaxing your hand along his body, and you felt the tension, the desire in every muscle. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a husky whisper, "Let me show you, Sister ____... let me show you what devotion truly means."
He kissed you then, his lips crashing against yours like a man starved. His mouth moved hungrily, tasting, devouring, and you felt his tongue lick into your mouth, coaxing a soft, surprised whimper from your throat. His groan vibrated against your lips, the sound raw and desperate.
Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the sheer need in his kiss.
You pulled back, gasping for air, your lips tingling from the force of his kiss. He didn't give you a moment to recover; his lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.
He nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, to make your knees weaken beneath you. The heat of his mouth trailed down, his tongue flicking out to soothe each small bite, and you felt your body trembling, a warmth pooling low in your belly.
Charlie's hands were relentless, holding you steady as your body threatened to give out, your knees buckling as his mouth worked against your skin. He pulled back only long enough to whisper your name, his voice thick with something between reverence and hunger.
Before you knew it, he had scooped you up, his arms strong and sure as he carried you towards his bed. Your breath hitched, your fingers clinging to his robe as he moved, each step filled with purpose.
He set you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. His eyes roamed over you, dark and filled with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
Father Charlie moved quickly, his hands deft as he pushed your slip off your shoulders, the fabric sliding down your skin and pooling around your waist. His lips followed the path of the falling slip, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your shoulders, his warm breath fanning across your skin.
You shivered beneath his touch, the cool air of the room prickling at your exposed skin, your nipples pebbling in response.
His eyes darkened at the sight of you, and he let out a low groan, his hands running along your bare arms, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "You're like a goddess," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and lust. "Perfect. Untouched. A temptation I can't resist." His lips found your collarbone, kissing, nipping, his words vibrating against your skin.
You felt heat rise in your cheeks, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, trailing down the center of your chest, his hands spreading across your back, urging you to arch into him. His kisses were relentless, each one making your breath catch, making your body react in ways that felt both unfamiliar and thrilling.
You couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, unsure of what to do, where to touch.
Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He pushed you back against the bed, guiding you to lie down, his hands never leaving your body, his touch possessive, as if he couldn't bear to be without contact. He looked down at you, splayed out before him, your slip barely covering you, and he licked his lips, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin.
"Look at you," he whispered, his voice dripping with a mix of adoration and hunger. "So innocent, so pure... and all mine." He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands working the slip further down your body, baring you completely to him.
The cool air made you shiver, your body exposed, vulnerable, and you couldn't help the way your legs shifted, instinctively trying to close.
Charlie's hands moved to your knees, gently but firmly pushing them apart, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction. His lips moved from your mouth, trailing down your jaw to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as he groaned against you.
He pulled the slip away entirely, tossing it aside, his hands roaming over your bare skin, mapping every inch as though he were committing you to memory. "You are... perfection," he muttered, his voice strained, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch.
His lips moved lower, trailing down your body, leaving a heated path across your chest, your stomach, and further down. His hands were strong, keeping your legs pinned open to the bed, his fingers pressing into your thighs with a possessive hold. He kissed along your inner thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin, making you shiver, anticipation coiling in your belly.
You instinctively tried to scoot back, to move away as you felt his breath getting closer to your core, but Charlie's grip tightened, his hands holding you firmly in place. He looked up at you, his eyes dark, almost predatory, as he whispered, "Stay still, Sister... let me worship you."
He breathed you in, a deep, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if savoring the scent of you, and then he leaned in, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit.
A squeal, half surprise and half pleasure, escaped your lips, your back arching slightly off the bed.
Father Charlie's tongue moved with a purpose, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands kept your legs spread, his grip firm and unyielding as he worked his mouth against you, his groans vibrating against your core.
He was relentless, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you.
You could feel his smooth skin against your inner thighs, the sensation only adding to the overwhelming pleasure that built inside you. His tongue moved in slow, teasing circles, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against you, his eyes flicking up to watch your every reaction.
The sight of you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your chest heaved with every ragged breath—only seemed to spur him on, his groans growing louder as he tasted you.
Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your hips bucking against his mouth, a whimper slipping from your lips. Charlie's hands moved to hold your hips down, pinning you to the bed as he continued, his tongue delving into you, his nose brushing against your clit as he worked, utterly consumed by the taste of you.
He was lost in it, in you, his tongue moving faster, his mouth desperate as he devoured you.
You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, your body trembling beneath him. The heat built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter, until you felt like you might break apart. His name fell from your lips, a breathless plea, and he groaned in response, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.
Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body ready to fall apart under his touch.
Your first orgasm washed over you without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you feeling weightless, your entire body trembling as you came undone beneath him. You melted into the bed like butter, your limbs going limp as the intensity of it left you breathless.
Charlie's mouth moved against you with a fervent hunger, drinking in every bit of your release as if it were the most sacred offering.
A small whimper escaped your lips as the sensation grew overwhelming, your body growing sensitive to his touch. He didn't stop, his tongue moving lazily, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you, his mouth still savoring you.
Your grip on his head shifted, your fingers now pushing at him, trying to get him to stop, but his hands only gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you in place. "W-Wait..." The heat in your stomach was already starting to build again, the slow, deliberate movements of his tongue igniting another fire deep within you.
Charlie groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, his face buried even further between your legs, his tongue relentless.
Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, your body trembling once more as the pleasure built. You could feel another orgasm approaching, your mind spinning as you tried to form words, but all that left your throat were broken, incoherent sounds—static that filled the room as you babbled.
You tried to scoot back, to move away from the overwhelming sensation, but Charlie's strong arms wrapped around your hips, yanking you back down, his grip unyielding. His own hips pressed into the bedding below, his desperation evident as he devoured you.
You teetered on the edge once more, the pleasure too much, too intense, until it finally broke over you again, your body arching, your mind going completely blank as you came undone a second time.
The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on you, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming ecstasy that left you gasping for air.
As you came down from your high, your body trembling, Father Charlie finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. He stared up at you with dark, lidded eyes, his expression filled with hunger, with desire that seemed insatiable.
There was no hesitation, no regret—only a raw need that made it clear he no longer cared about going against his vows, no longer cared about the priesthood or what was right.
All that mattered to him was you.
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A/N: i'm sorry, i just watched Grotesquerie last night and i've become obssessed.... ugh, the tension between father charlie and sister megan is just *chefs kiss* it's clear that megan is obviously meant to be y/n and the screenplay was written in the intent of it being catered to the female gaze because wheeeeww 😩...
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surroundedbyconfusion · 10 months ago
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We got a tea house for our Winter Village this year and it’s named “Potter’s Tea.” Making me think about HP post-Hogwarts AU where Harry owns a tea shop, very flower shop-tattoo shop au in my head.
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odinsblog · 1 year ago
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🗣️THIS IS WHAT INCLUSIVE, COMPASSIONATE DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE
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Minnesota Dems enacted a raft of laws to make the state a trans refuge, and ensure people receiving trans care here can't be reached by far-right governments in places like Florida and Texas. (link)
Minnesota Dems ensured that everyone, including undocumented immigrants, can get drivers' licenses. (link)
They made public college free for the majority of Minnesota families. (link)
Minnesota Dems dropped a billion dollars into a bevy of affordable housing programs, including by creating a new state housing voucher program. (link)
Minnesota Dems massively increased funding for the state's perpetually-underfunded public defenders, which lets more public defenders be hired and existing public defenders get a salary increase. (link)
Dems raised Minnesota education spending by 10%, or about 2.3 billion. (link)
Minnesota Dems created an energy standard for 100% carbon-free electricity by 2040. (link)
Minnesota already has some of the strongest election infrastructure (and highest voter participation) in the country, but the legislature just made it stronger, with automatic registration, preregistration for minors, and easier access to absentee ballots. (link)
Minnesota Dems expanded the publicly subsidized health insurance program to undocumented immigrants. This one's interesting because it's the sort of things Dems often balk at. The governor opposed it! The legislature rolled over him and passed it anyway. (link)
Minnesota Dems expanded background checks and enacted red-flag laws, passing gun safety measures that the GOP has thwarted for years. (link)
Minnesota Dems gave the state AG the power to block the huge healthcare mergers that have slowly gobbled up the state's medical system. (link)
Minnesota Dems restored voting rights to convicted felons as soon as they leave prison. (link)
Minnesota Dems made prison phone calls free. (link)
Minnesota Dems passed new wage protection rules for the construction industry, against industry resistance. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a new sales tax to fund bus and train lines, an enormous victory for the sustainability and quality of public transit. Transit be more pleasant to ride, more frequent, and have better shelters, along more lines. (link)
They passed strict new regulations on PFAS ("forever chemicals"). (link)
Minnesota Dems passed the largest bonding bill in state history! Funding improvements to parks, colleges, water infrastructure, bridges, etc. etc. etc. (link)
They're going to build a passenger train from the Twin Cities to Duluth. (link)
I can't even find a news story about it but there's tens of millions in funding for new BRT lines, too. (link)
A wonky-but-important change: Minnesota Dems indexed the state gas tax to inflation, effectively increasing the gas tax. (link)
They actually indexed a bunch of stuff to inflation, including the state's education funding formula, which helps ensure that school spending doesn't decline over time. (link)
Minnesota Dems made hourly school workers (e.g., bus drivers and paraprofessionals) eligible for unemployment during summer break, when they're not working or getting paid. (link)
Minnesota Dems passed a bunch of labor protections for teachers, including requiring school districts to negotiate class sizes as part of union contracts. (Yet another @SydneyJordanMN special here. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a state board to govern labor standards at nursing homes. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a Prescription Drug Affordability Board, which would set price caps for high-cost pharmaceuticals. (link)
Minnesota Dems created new worker protections for Amazon warehouse workers and refinery workers. (link)
Minnesota Dems passed a digital fair repair law, which requires electronics manufacturers to make tools and parts available so that consumers can repair their electronics rather than purchase new items. (link)
Minnesota Dems made Juneteenth a state holiday. (link)
Minnesota Dems banned conversion therapy. (link)
They spent nearly a billion dollars on a variety of environmental programs, from heat pumps to reforestation. (link)
Minnesota Dems expanded protections for pregnant and nursing workers - already in place for larger employers - to almost everyone in the state. (link)
Minnesota Dems created a new child tax credit that will cut child poverty by about a quarter. (link)
Minnesota Democrats dropped a quick $50 million into homelessness prevention programs. (link)
And because the small stuff didn't get lost in the big stuff, they passed a law to prevent catalytic converter thefts. (link)
Minnesota Dems increased child care assistance. (link)
Minnesota Dems banned "captive audience meetings," where employers force employees to watch anti-union presentations. (link)
No news story yet, but Minnesota Dems forced signal priority changes to Twin Cities transit. Right now the trains have to wait at intersections for cars, which, I can say from experience, is terrible. Soon that will change.
Minnesota Dems provided the largest increase to nursing home funding in state history. (link)
They also bumped up salaries for home health workers, to help address the shortage of in-home nurses. (link)
Minnesota Dems legalized drug paraphernalia, which allows social service providers to conduct needle exchanges and address substance abuse with reduced fear of incurring legal action. (link)
Minnesota Dems banned white supremacists and extremists from police forces, capped probation at 5 years for most crimes, improved clemency, and mostly banned no-knock warrants. (link)
Minnesota Dems also laid the groundwork for a public health insurance option. (link)
I’m happy for the people of Minnesota, but as a Floridian living under Ron DeSantis & hateful Republicans, I’m also very envious tbh. We know that democracy can work, and this is a shining example of what government could be like in the hands of legislators who actually care about helping people in need, and not pursuing the GOP’s “culture wars” and suppressing the votes of BIPOC, and inflicting maximum harm on those who aren’t cis/het, white, wealthy, Christian males. BRAVO MINNESOTA. This is how you do it! And the Minnesota Dems did it with a one seat majority, so no excuses. Forget about the next election and focus on doing as much good as you can, while you still can. 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿
👉🏿 https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1660846689450688514.html
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gbhbl · 5 months ago
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Interview: Far from Refuge (Written)
Diverse Brit prog metal crew, Far from Refuge, lay down a significant marker in the form of their blistering new EP, 'False Flag', which lands on Friday 19th July. The record is preceded by their explosive new single and video, 'Ghost of Eros', which is out now.
Diverse Brit prog metal crew, Far from Refuge, lay down a significant marker in the form of their blistering new EP, ‘False Flag’, which lands on Friday 19th July. The record is preceded by their explosive new single and video, ‘Ghost of Eros’, which is out now. Far From Refuge are Joél Sutherland – Guitar/Vocals, Suran Jayathilaka – Vocals, Matt Poskitt – Bass/Vocals, Jules Watts – Drums. 1.…
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irhabiya · 3 months ago
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a few more fundraisers that are quite far away from their goals and/or have urgent cases verified by @/mohameddd, a palestinian currently in gaza right now who i speak with directly, so i trust the legitimacy of these campaigns!
Falastin Iwais' family: Falastin is the youngest of her family members and currently lives in sweden, she's organizing this campaign to help provide her family with basic necessities and evacuate into egypt once the border opens. please keep in mind when donating that the conversion rate from Swedish krona into USD is the following: 1$ = 10.6 SEK, 10$ = 106 SEK, 100$ = 1060 SEK, 1000$ = 10600 SEK, make sure that you're donating the amount you intended to donate in USD and not lower due to the conversion rate. kr3,344 SEK/kr2,000,000 SEK
Khaldoun's family: Khaldoun and his family have been forcibly displaced from gaza city to rafah, seeking shelter for him and his siblings' children. they're organizing this campaign to raise money for evacuation once the border opens. €3,071/€15,000
Faten's family: Faten and her family were initially displaced from northern gaza and then displaced 2 more times into southern gaza, having left everything behind to seek shelter and safety. Faten's mother was injured in airstrike and her older brother was martyred in northern gaza. this campaign is raising funds for evacuation once the border opens, and please bear in mind the conversion rate from USD to Norwegian krona ($1 = 10.7 NOK, 10$ = 107 NOK, 100$ = 1070 NOK). make sure you're donating the amount you intended to donate in USD and not lower due to the conversion rate. kr107 NOK/kr1,000,000 NOK
Hatem's family: Hatem's family was displaced 3 times since the start of the genocide, they narrowly escaped death and are seeking shelter at nuseirat refugee camp. he's lost his job and is unable to afford basic necessities like clean drinking water and food for his newborn daughter and the rest of his family. he's organizing this campaign to help provide their most basic needs which they have been deprived of. €1,098/€3,000
Sohad's family: Sohad's family was displaced four times since the genocide started, their house in northern gaza was bombed and they were forced to flee to southern gaza. Sohad is organizing this campaign to financially support his elderly parents, his brothers and their children, one of whom has cerebral palsy and requires urgent medical attention. €4,770/€20,000
Yara's family: Yara and her family were displaced from rafah and are currently seeking refuge in khan yunis. she was hoping to graduate this year with a degree in physical herapy but her dreams and education were cut short by the genocide in gaza. he's organizing this campaign to support her parents and her younger siblings, including 3 children. she's still very far away from her goal. €397/€20,000
tagging for reach:
@terroristiraqis @tamamita @evillesbianvillain @srdcovka @opencommunion @7amaspayrollmanager @gabajoofs @aristotels @anti-democratic-russian-bot @anneemay @orchres @womenintheirwebs @revindicatedbyhistory @fusdoq @feluka @bookskittychad @la7ma-mafrooma @ma3moul @mariamlovesyou @mahoushojoe @mithli @breadmp3 @bijoumikhawal @flouryhedgehog @rhubarbspring @appsa @malcriada @brutaliakhoa @fairuzfan @antiquititties @khargooshe @koscheiy @huzni @three-croissants @t4tvampireisms
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slut4nicholas · 1 month ago
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𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀
a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.
summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.
warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught
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growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.
today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.
as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.
i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.
“hello there” he calls out.
"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.
i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.
"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.
“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“
he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.
“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”
as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.
"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.
“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”
as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.
oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.
“no father i swear-“
"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.
it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.
as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”
he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”
i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.
“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”
“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"
i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.
“father, i think i should go”
"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.
"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.
"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”
“i don’t know what your talking about father”
charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.
it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.
i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.
“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.
his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.
what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.
the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.
as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.
i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.
in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.
as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.
his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.
lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.
"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.
"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."
i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.
the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.
we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.
charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.
i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.
the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.
charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”
as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit
charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help
he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest
charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.
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a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!
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scorpieuns · 2 months ago
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KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON
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summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?
word count: 3.2k
MINORS DNI!!
warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).
A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!
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Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.
You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.
Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.
The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one the thrift shops you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.
Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.
Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.
As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.
The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.
Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.
It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.
In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.
Then, there was Sunghoon.
You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.
Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.
As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?
The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.
You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.
Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.
You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.
He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.
"How does…kissing feel?"
That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”
You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”
Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”
A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”
Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.
“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.
There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.
But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.
His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.
Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?
He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.
Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.
His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.
“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”
“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”
You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”
Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.
To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”
His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”
“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”
Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.
He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”
Right?
You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.
The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.
“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.
Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.
Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?
He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.
“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.
Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.
His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.
Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.
Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.
Oh.
You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.
Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.
Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.
You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.
Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.
“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”
“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.
He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.
Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.
Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.
Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.
You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.
He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.
You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.
Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.
His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.
He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.
You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.
You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.
The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.
His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.
Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.
Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.
Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.
Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.
“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.
Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.
“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.
You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.
All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.
“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.
Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.
You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.
He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.
"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.
"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.
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extinctionstories · 1 month ago
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On April 19th, 1987, a bird known as Adult Condor 9 was captured in the Bitter Creek National Wildlife Refuge, near Bakersfield, California. After decades ravaged by the threats of lead-poisoning and pesticide exposure, and intense debate over the ethics of captivity, it had been determined that captive breeding was the final hope to save a species. As his designation might suggest, AC-9 was the ninth condor to be captured for the new program; he was also the last.
As the biology team transported the seven-year-old male to the safety of the San Diego Wild Animal Park, his species, the California Condor, North America's largest bird, became extinct in its native range. It was Easter Sunday—a fitting day for the start of a resurrection.
At the time of AC-9's capture, the total world population of California condors constituted just twenty-seven birds. The majority of them represented ongoing conservation attempts: immature birds, taken from the wild as nestlings and eggs to be captive-reared in safety, with the intention of re-release into the wild. Now, efforts turned fully towards the hope of captive breeding.
Captive breeding is never a sure-fire bet, especially for sensitive, slow-reproducing species like the condor. Animals can and do go extinct even when all individuals are successfully shielded from peril and provided with ideal breeding conditions. Persistence in captivity is not the solution to habitat destruction and extirpation—but it can buy valuable time for a species that needs it.
Thankfully, for the California condor, it paid off.
The birds defied expectations, with an egg successfully hatched at the San Diego Zoo the very next year. Unlike many other birds of prey, which may produce clutches of up to 5 hatchlings, the California condor raises a single chick per breeding season, providing care for the first full year of its life, and, as a consequence, often not nesting at all in the year following the birth of a chick. This, combined with the bird's slow maturation (taking six to eight years to start breeding), presented a significant challenge. However, biologists were able to exploit another quirk of the bird's breeding cycle: its ability to double-clutch.
Raising a single offspring per year is a massive risk in a world full of threats, and the California condor's biology has provided it with a back-up plan: in years when a chick or egg has been lost, condors will often re-nest with a second egg. To take advantage of this tendency, eggs were selectively removed from birds in the captive breeding program, which would then lay a replacement, greatly increasing their reproduction rate.
And what of the eggs that were taken? The tendency of hatchlings to imprint is well-known, and the intention from the very beginning was for the birds to one day return to the wild—an impossibility for animals acclimated to humans. And so, puppets were made in the realistic likeness of adult condors, and used by members of the conservation team to feed and nurture the young birds, mitigating the risk of imprintation on the wrong species.
By 1992, the captive population had more than doubled, to 64 birds. That year, after an absence of five years, the first two captive-bred condors were released into their ancestral home. Many other releases followed, including the return of AC-9 himself in 2002. Thanks to the efforts of zoos and conservationists, as of 2024 there are 561 living California condors, over half of which fly free in the wilds of the American West.
The fight to save the California condor is far from over. The species is still listed as critically endangered. Lead poisoning (from ingesting shot/bullets from abandoned carcasses) remains the primary source of mortality for the species, with tagged birds tested and treated whenever possible. Baby condors are fed bone chips by their parents, likely as a calcium supplement—but, to a condor, bits of bone and bits of plastic can be indistinguishable, and dead nestlings have been found with stomachs full of trash.
There's hope, though. There are things we can change, things we can counteract and stop from happening in the future. It was a human hand that created this problem, and it will take a human hand to fix it. Hope is only gone when the last animal breathes its last breath—and the California condor is still here.
-
This painting is titled Puppet Rearing (California Condor), and is part of my series Conservation Pieces, which focuses on the efforts and techniques used to save critically endangered birds from extinction. It is traditional gouache, on 22x30" paper.
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vanteguccir · 2 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! SLEEPLESS NIGHT
spencer reid x reader
SUMMARY: Where Spencer finally has a night to sleep at his apartment with his girlfriend, but the current case doesn't even let him close his eyes, leading him to study the files until ungodly hours. But who said that Y/N can sleep away from him?
WARNING: Slightly mention of age gap (reader is still in college), tooth rotting fluff.
REQUESTED?: No.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Spencer hated bringing work home, and he had two very specific reasons for it. First, he loathed the idea of mixing his work life with his personal life. The BAU was a constant source of darkness; gruesome crimes, twisted minds, and the unrelenting pressure to solve the unsolvable.
His home was the opposite: a place of light and warmth, a refuge from the horrors that haunted him on a daily basis. But more importantly, home was where Y/N was. She was the one person who could pull him from the depths of his thoughts, her mere presence offering a calm that he couldn't find anywhere else. She was his life, his anchor, and his sanctuary.
Their time together was sacred, especially with the demands of his job taking him away so often. Whether he was chasing unsubs across the country or spending endless hours poring over case files at the BAU, being away from Y/N was the hardest part of his job. When he was home, he wanted to be fully present, to make up for the time he lost while he was away.
He cherished the quiet moments, the lazy evenings where they could simply exist together without the weight of the world bearing down on him. He wanted to give her every ounce of his attention, to make her feel just how much she meant to him.
But then, there were nights like tonight, when the case followed him home despite his best intentions, forcing him to divide his focus in a way that always left him feeling guilty.
The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, filtered through the sheer curtains that hung over the windows. The clock on the nightstand read 2:37 AM, its gentle green glow a quiet reminder of how late it had become.
Spencer lay on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling, though his mind was far from still. It raced, chasing the loose ends of the case, replaying details, searching for the missing link that could unravel everything. The unsub was smart, meticulous in his planning, calculating in his movements. It was unnerving, the way this case was so close to home, right here in Quantico.
Hotch had granted the team a rare night to return home and rest, knowing the work would pick up again with relentless intensity in the morning. Spencer knew he should be grateful for the chance to sleep in his own bed, to hold Y/N close, and let her warmth lull him into rest. But sleep felt impossible.
Beside him, Y/N slept soundly, her body curled against his. One arm rested across his chest, her hand fisting tightly the fabric of his white shirt and her hand tucked beneath his shoulder, as if even in sleep, she sought him out. Her breathing was soft and even, the slow rise and fall of her chest a soothing rhythm against his side.
Spencer turned his head slightly, watching her. She looked peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on her lips, probably remains of a dream. His heart clenched with love, a wave of warmth and tenderness washing over him.
With a soft sigh, Spencer slid his right arm beneath her, his hand resting gently on her back, the warmth of her skin seeping through the fabric of the sweater she wore - his sweater. He brought his other hand down to her bare leg, carefully shifting her until her right one draped across his thighs, her body instinctively curling closer to him, almost laying fully above him.
His fingers trailed softly along her thigh, the smooth skin warm beneath his touch. The gesture was soothing, grounding him in the present moment, in the feel of her against him. His thumb stroked lazy circles on her flesh, his touch light and reverent, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her - as if he already didn't had each part of her craved inside his head.
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of her hair. It was a mixture of her shampoo and something uniquely hers, a scent that had always brought him comfort. His lips brushed against the delicate skin of her closed eyelids, another kiss pressed to her temple. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her hand tightening its grip on his shirt.
His right hand traveled across the fabric of his sweater, slipping below it, his fingertips sliding higher, brushing against the bare skin of her back. She was so warm, her skin so soft, and the feel of her made something inside him settle, if only for a moment. He continued to stroke her thigh with one hand, his other one gently massaging the muscles of her back, feeling the way her body relaxed further into him.
He stared at her for a long moment, his mind flickering between her and work. He didn’t want to leave her alone in bed, didn’t want to let it drag him away from her. Spencer knew Y/N deserved a good night's sleep more than anyone. She had been tirelessly studying for her college finals, always the most academically involved and dedicated in her class, which caused her to staying up late, buried in textbooks and research papers - just as he spent sleepless nights away on cases.
But even as he held her close, the details of the case gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, refusing to be ignored.
With a reluctant sigh, he carefully began to shift, his movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to disturb her. His hand on her thigh slid away, and he gently eased her leg off his hips, tucking it back beneath the blankets. She mumbled softly in her sleep, her body instinctively moving toward his warmth even as he slipped out from under her.
Spencer sat up, pausing for a moment as he watched her stir. Her hand reached for him in her sleep, her face burrowing further into his pillow as if searching for his scent. The sight made his chest tighten with both affection and guilty.
With one last glance at Y/N, Spencer stood, moving with the quiet precision of someone who was used to slipping away in the dead of night. He padded silently out of the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath his feet.
The apartment was shrouded in a heavy, comfortable darkness, the only sound breaking the quiet being the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Spencer moved with practiced silence, stepping lightly through the familiar space until he reached the small room they’d turned into a makeshift office. It was cluttered with his books, scattered papers, and, more recently, case files.
He flicked on the desk lamp, casting a soft, amber glow across the cluttered desk. His movements were slow, careful not to disturb the serene quiet that enveloped the apartment as he sank into his chair, rescuing his folded glasses from between all those papers.
In front of him lay the case file, the photographs of the victims staring back at him as if mocking his inability to piece it all together. He scanned the reports for what felt like the hundredth time, his brow creased in thought, eyes darting over the details.
Minutes bled into an hour, maybe more. His glasses had slipped halfway down his nose as he leaned in closer to the desk, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the crime scene photos. His other hand tugged at the cuff of his pajama sleeve, lost in the rhythm of his restless thoughts.
Just then, the sound of soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor reached his ears, the faint shuffling of bare feet snapping him out of his thoughts. He barely turned in his chair before he saw her; a sleepy, disheveled Y/N standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the faint glow of the hallway light. The sleeves of his sweater were falling over her hands, causing her shoulders to become exposed, and her eyes were heavy with the remnants of sleep.
"Spence..." She mumbled, her voice raspy and thick with drowsiness. The sight of her tugged at his heart in the most tender way.
Spencer’s face softened instantly, guilt creeping in at the edges of his thoughts. He’d woken her.
"Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, pushing the file aside and giving her his full attention. His voice was quiet, filled with concern. "What are you doing awake? You should be asleep."
Y/N blinked at him, the bleariness in her eyes making her seem even smaller and more vulnerable. She swayed slightly on her feet, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.
"I woke up... and you weren’t there." She slurred softly, taking a small step toward him, her expression confused and sleepy.
His heart clenched at her words, a wave of guilt washing over him. He hated that he’d caused her to wake up, especially on a week that she spent too much time studying and having little to no rest. He adjusted his posture above the chair, motioning her closer with gentle hands, but Y/N was already moving on her own, shuffling across the room with slow, sleepy steps, her gaze never leaving him.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, dove." He whispered as she reached him. He reached out with his hands as she practically fell into his arms.
She pushed his arms open with little effort and maneuvered herself onto his lap, pressing against him as if seeking out the warmth she’d missed. Her legs straddled his thighs, her knees resting above the sides of the chair, her body curling around his like a koala hugging a tree. The weight of her felt perfect, grounding him as she nestled closer, her chest rising and falling softly against him.
"Spence, don’t apologize." She murmured, her breath tickling the skin of his neck as she shifted, her nose nuzzling into the curve of it, seeking his scent. She pressed her face against him, her lips brushing feather-light against the sensitive skin just below his ear as she planted a sleepy kiss. "You know I just can’t sleep well without you."
Spencer let out a shaky breath, the soft, familiar feeling of her lips against his neck sending warmth coursing through him. His left hand instinctively found her back, his fingers running to the hem of his sweater and lifting it slightly, making room for hand to enter under the fabric and meet her skin, spreading his fingers as he began tracing lazy circles along her spine, soothing her.
Y/N sighed in pleasure, her left hand gently crawling up to his face. Her fingers softly traced the rough stubble along his cheek before instinctively pushing his glasses back up to their proper place, her fingertips grazing the bridge of his nose in a familiar, soothing motion.
He smiled softly, his guilt still lingering but melting slightly under the comfort of her touch. She was so close, so vulnerable in her half-asleep state, and it made him feel even more protective of her.
"You should be in bed." He whispered, his voice low and affectionate, his hand continuing its gentle caress. "You have finals tomorrow... and this position’s going to make your back hurt in the morning." He tried to sound stern, but the amusement in his tone betrayed him. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly as Y/N shifted again, her hand leaving his face and meeting the other side of his neck, her right arm tightening around his torso in silent protest.
"I don’t care." She mumbled into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke. "I love you. I want to be here."
His heart swelled at her words, an overwhelming wave of love flooding him. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the comforting scent of her.
"I love you more." He whispered back, his voice barely audible as he nuzzled his cheek against her hair. His hand never stopped its rhythmic movement along her back, his touch gentle and tender.
Y/N hummed in response, her breathing already slowing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her back toward sleep. Spencer could feel the way her body relaxed against his, her weight becoming heavier as she melted further into him. She was so peaceful, her soft breaths brushing against his skin in a steady rhythm.
Spencer's eyes drifted to the case file still resting on the desk, his mind unwilling to let go of the details he was trying to piece together. His hand continued to trail soothing patterns on her back, and he tilted his head down, pressing another kiss to her temple, noticing how her body was giving way to sleep again.
"Let me tuck you back into bed, sweetheart." He whispered against her skin, insisting. "You need the proper rest."
But Y/N shifted in his lap, shaking her head, clearly unwilling to move.
"No." She mumbled, her voice soft but convincing. "What I need is to be with you." She burrowed her face deeper into his neck, pressing her nose against his skin and nuzzling him like she was trying to become a part of him. "Let me stay here. Please."
Spencer sighed softly, feeling torn between the the case and the warmth of Y/N in his arms. He glanced back at Y/N, her soft breathing and her peaceful face pressed against his neck, shaking his head with how stubborn she could be.
Wrapping his arms fully around her, he held her close, one hand still caressing her back while the other pulled the case file closer to him again, reopening it and going back to the first page.
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