#i'm afraid that won't be the last of them

[tarotlexa]

PICK A PILE READING- how you treat others vs. how they treat you!

welcome back my loves to another pick a pile reading with yours truly, how is everyone doing? i hope you're all doing great <3

what i'm inviting you to do in this reading is self reflection, especially if you're one of those souls that gives more than they receive.

anyway, you know the drill. this is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what does not, luv u <3

⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　.

.　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　　　　　　　　*

　　　　　⠀　　　　⠀　　,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　

　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　.

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　　　　　　*⠀　　⠀  　　　　　⠀✦⠀　

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　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　.

　.⠀　　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀,

　　　*　　⠀.

　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　⠀✦

　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　*

.⠀ 　　　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　.

　　　　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　    　　　　　　　　.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　.

.　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　　　　　　　　*

　　　　　⠀　　　　⠀　　,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　 　　⠀　　　⠀.　

　　˚　　　⠀　⠀  　　,　　　　　　.

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　　　　　　*⠀　　⠀  　　　　　⠀✦⠀　

　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　.

　　　　.　　　　.　　　

　　　　　　　　　　　.

　　　˚　　　　　　　　ﾟ　　　　　.

　.⠀　⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀‍⠀,

　　　　　✦⠀　   　　　,

pile 1: this pile made me feel so much tbh...it's like there's an innate hope inside you that's slowly fading away from dealing with shitty people. you want friends, you want love, you want connection but you're also afraid of it. you are such a kind soul to be honest, it's very possible that you have been taken advantage of before and i am truly sorry about that.

you want to be open, spontaneous, fun and careless (the fool) but you have been burned a few too many times to keep people at arm's length, by this point you simply know better. you are so guarded when it comes to new people into your life and i do not blame you for it, i believe it is natural to fear others after an array of bad events, one after the other.

you might be one of those souls that sees potential in people before the reality and you might confuse fantasy with love which is why you got let down before. there is a deep fear of loss or betrayal under the surface so you tend to withhold vulnerability until it feels safe enough to do so. you are also someone who tends to suppress their needs, you give people space to disappoint you because you are investing more in what they could be rather than what they actually are. you might gravitate towards passive partners/friends in your life, someone who won't plan anything until you do it yourself. the truth is, you don't need to do that. you don't need to earn love by doing more.

how others treat you: as i mentioned before, people don't really want to plan or actively participate in building something with you in terms of activities or connection because they feel like there's innate emotional distance between you and them. they're curious, they might even offer some consistency but they don't really take risks emotionally speaking, they tend to keep you in limbo (the hanged man) with stagnant situations, unsolved dynamics, it's like they forget you exist until you actually hit them up. people might also randomly text you to hang out last minute because they don't really prioritize you or your friendship or they promise you to hang out with you sometime soon and they never do. you might also be someone who had to switch friend groups often because people are attracted but they're sort of not ready to invest long term, you find yourself waiting and waiting, and just when you're about to give up they drop a breadcrumb or rush in with a surge of attention or promises only to not follow through once again. it is exhausting but at the same time i feel like you're sort of allowing for it to happen by staying friends/dating this type of people. they do not serve you well at all.

you are carrying emotional loads that were never yours to bear in the first place, you deserve to be someone's priority rather than a last minute back up plan. you don’t have to carry the weight of every unspoken conversation, every failed connection. your healing starts when you choose ease. choose someone who shares the burden, not someone who adds to it. you are absolutely worthy of reciprocity pile one and i hope you'll stop accepting crumbs soon.

pile 2: you are someone who loves and supports people in silence or in secret. you study people before deciding to interact with them, you get to know their soul before sharing yours. you are someone who really cares about loyalty, you are protective of your circle and you are extremely patient with them but something tells me that you're lonely, even if you hide it with intellect and sarcasm. you want to be known but you rarely let yourself be seen and then you wonder why nobody gets you, you're the friend who always checks in but never says "hey i'm actually struggling too" and i feel like that adds another layer of complexity to you, pile 2. it's hard to admit to be human too when others expect you to be the total opposite of that in a way. you're always the strong one, in all of your relationships and that makes you retreat further more emotionally.

how others treat you: people admire you, especially for your ride or die attitude for your friends. unfortunately there's also this feeling of an imbalanced dynamic where people expect you to act the way they want you to, everything has to be done on their terms and your feelings and needs might get cast aside, especially in planning. people around you might want you around yes but on their terms, your time is taken for granted and the roles here seem pretty rigid to me. they assume you have it all together, you might be the therapist or confidante friend. people also kind of want to control you, like they want you to fix them?? lol it's weird because they do respect you (again, in their own way) but they also want you to fit into their ideal. they expect you to be this ultimate hype girl persona without giving the same in return, weird. you deserve tenderness and someone who sees through your armor, you're strong but it doesn't mean that you don't deserve to be held, not just admired. your softness is not a weakness, let others nurture it too. you are a gift, not a burden. <3

pile 3: you always show up for others, you are the ultimate support friend. life of the party mixed with the therapist and mom friend all at the same time. you love in a truly generous, nostalgic way, you also tend to be the emotional anchor in your relationships, offering others insights on their needs and emotions. it's like people need you to tell them what's wrong with them and how they can fix it lmao, they feel like they need you because you're someone who's seen as a problem solver. you always know what to do. you are supportive, loyal and VERY invested in your circles and mutual growth and seeing others win. truly a one of a kind friend. you bring memories, magic, devotion and fairy dust to any of your relationships, you make people feel so seen and safe pile 3, but do they extend the same love to you? you create so many core memories for people, you're someone who's always present in other people's stories and fun facts but i feel like those people are simply not giving you back the same energy.

how others treat you: this is heavy because you might be someone who attracts narcissists or unavailable numbed individuals into your life, they're not here to extend the same sort of love to you, they're here to be healed by you. you give soul level love to people who are emotionally bankrupt, especially in love. i am sorry but it feels like people in your life are lowkey disappointing, they ghost you, they leave you even after all of that. you offer them true, pure partnership and they offer regret and pain, thanks i guess? many of the people you love are emotionally unavailable and don't know how to give back, not out of malice but because they're empty. you cannot fix them. you're not a shelter on a mission to rescue wounded people from themselves or their apathy, you are a LIGHT in this world and you deserve someone present and way better than anybody else who has left you before. you are allowed to move on from people who can't meet you in your fullness, new beginnings are always possible. you are a literal angel, your emotional generosity is sacred. stop chasing ghosts, i beg you.

thank you so much for reading, have a lovely day/night <3

[vssail]

From: (...)

To: Jason Todd

Subject: Soo... you coming?

Yeah, yeah, I know what you want to answer me. "I don't like crowded places". You're lucky I'm a genius.

If we can't go to the cinema, we can celebrate Joe Wright's 2005 Pride and Prejudice aniversary at my place!

I got the movie on DVD. I know we could watch it directly on TV, but this way it feels more real, you know? With the 2005 vibe and everything. And I already bought like a lot, lot, LOT of popcorns. All flavors imaginable. So, you have to come now, unless you want me to die trying to eat all these popcorns by myself.

You better be at my door at seven, Todd.

(Please, come.)

(...)

From: Jason Todd

To: (...)

Subject: Re: Soo... you coming?

You're terrible. But sweet. Let's leave it at adorably terrible.

Give me five minutes to get there.

(You didn't have to do all that for me. But I appreciate it. Thank you.)

J

From: Jason Todd

To: (...)

Subject: New recipe

Alfred revealed to me the recipe of the brownies that you loved so much. I'm cooking them right now. If you get here quickly, you could be the tester.

And again, thank you for the other night. I had a great time. We should do it again. Chicken run turns 25 this year, if you need inspiration for the next movie.

J

P.S. Don't. Make. Jokes. About. The. Apron.

From: (...)

To: Jason Todd

Subject: Re: New recipe

[jason todd on a ripped batman apron.jpg]

Muehehehe

(...)

From: Jason Todd

To: (...)

Subject: Delete the pictures.

You have 30 minutes to delete them. Don't ask me what will happen if you don't.

J

From: (...)

To: Jason Todd

Subject: Mission Accomplished

Okay, okay, I deleted them. The only thing left of those pic is the one I printed and framed. I have it in a safe, so no one will be able to see it (unless they know my birthday).

Tho I must warn you someone may have hacked my phone before I got to delete them. I think so because an unknown number sent me a paypal payment and told me to get more pictures. Creepy.

Don't worry, I won't take more pictures. I am the only one that deserves to see that side of you ;)

(...)

P.S. You up for movie night tomorrow?

From: Jason Todd

To: (...)

Subject: Re: Mission Accomplished

I'm taking the food, there are some brownies left. I can make something else if you want. Maybe I can cook dinner before we watch the movie? Alf handed me another recipe, I could try it with you.

I'm taking an apron. Black. No pictures.

J

From: Jason Todd

To: Tim Drake

Subject: You're dead

Prepare your last words.

From: (...)

To: Jason Todd

Subject: Re: Re: Mission Accomplished

Awesome! I really love it when you go full Gordon Ramsey, like really, your cooking skills never fail to surprise me. Sometimes I think about kidnapping you so you cook for me everyday, but I back off when I remember you hide guns in the toaster.

Oooh I searched through my dad's old DVD's collection and I have a full list of films that we HAVE TO watch! Not gonna lie, the options could be better - but I want to keep the DVD thing. It's like our thing <3

[top best films to watch with jay - millenial dad edition.pdf]

We could do a Final destination marathon. I think another one is coming out this year so the timing is perfect!

(I know, no crowded rooms. I'll just get it somehow, don't worry.)

See you tomorrow, Todd :)

(...)

From: Tim Drake

To: (...)

Subject: Calm your dog

Yeah, I know, I'm sorry for hacking your phone. I was curious about who was Jason talking to through e-mails in this day and age. The picture was there and I couldn't let it go, yk? Now, I would appreciate if you talked with him to calm him down. I'm afraid his threat may not be as light as I thought it was.

Please, be quick. I think I'm hearing things in my appartment.

T. D.

[futuremrsreid]

Love Like Ghosts - Chapter One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Hotchner!Reader

Warnings: Angst, flirty talk, Spencer isn’t an asshole he’s just deeply traumatized

A/N: Bear in mind, English isn’t my first language. This one is short, I guess it’s more of a prologue. Read this post for backstory on the reader

"I'm back in DC. Will you meet me for coffee tomorrow? At 3 p.m., the usual place? I heard you guys are on official time-out for a few weeks."

I waited 5 hours and 30 minutes, but no reply came. Good thing I didn't care about sounding desperate.

"Please, Spencer. I just want to talk."

"I'll be there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My fingers nervously fiddled with the menu laid out before me. The clock at the small café showed me the same time my phone already did. 2:55 pm. 5 minutes before we said we would meet, but for Spencer, that meant he was late. And since the last at least dozen times we had met here, he was always 10 minutes early.

I figured he didn't necessarily want to see me, but I never thought he would stand me up.

Maybe he had changed. I haven't seen him in so long, and from the snippets I had managed to get out of my dad, 3 months in prison did a number on him. My stomach churned at the thought.

Yet before my brain could spiral more, the small bell above the entrance rang, and Spencer Reid entered. His eyes scanned the few tables until he finally saw me.

I awkwardly waved at him, immediately chastising myself under my breath.

I felt like I couldn't breathe for the seconds it took for him to walk over. And when he finally sat down, my breath was still caught in my lungs.

His hair was longer and messy, his face pale and unshaven. Beautiful, like always, but in a devastatingly sad way.

"Hi", I said, voice cracking uncharacteristically. He noticed immediately.

"Hey", his reply was soft, despite his intense gaze on me.

"Thank you for coming. I won't hold you long. I get that you maybe don't really want to talk to me, but my dad told me what happened, and I just-", I stopped, not knowing how to put it without sounding desperate. "He said you were fine, but I wanted to see for myself."

"And?" his one-word reply came. I wasn’t sure how to handle this, to handle him. But I was never afraid to be honest with him, and I wouldn't start now.

"Well, either you have been lying to everybody, or you have been lying to yourself and everybody. You're clearly not fine." I could see that he didn't appreciate my answer, but we both knew I was right. He leaned back in his seat.

"Why wouldn't I want to talk to you?"

"What?"

"You said you'd get that I maybe wouldn't want to talk to you. Why would you think that?"

"Well, I-", I paused, unsure about what to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

7 months ago

"Thank you for driving me home. I'm still embarrassed that you had to pick me up there. As I've told you at least 10 times now, I usually don't go there."

"What? You usually don't spend your free time in dirty sticky bars? Who would've thought...", he was barely able to hide his grin, but when I jokingly hit his shoulder in fake offense, he chuckled.

"No, and you know....Usually, I try to be the dirtiest and stickiest thing in a bar, which would be unachievable in a place like that." I joked and flashed him a mischievous grin, taking note of the redness spreading on his face.

"I hope you know that that's an extremely odd goal to have."

My reply came in a giggle and the rattling of my keys as I pushed them into the lock of my apartment door.

"Wanna come in? I can make you a cup of tea. I add ginger to it. It's actually famous in my family." He had never been in my apartment before. It was a line we hadn't crossed, and I wasn't sure he even wanted to. But when I opened the door and turned back around to him, there was a kind of longing in his eyes. Confirmation came in the form of a nod, his body following mine inside.

It really shouldn't have felt as forbidden as it did. I wasn’t a child. We weren't doing anything illegal. Yet my skin prickled when I felt the heat of his body behind mine.

"This is exactly how I imagined your apartment. I like it, it fits you."

"You imagined how I live...Interesting fact, Dr. Reid." I walked towards my small kitchen to make the tea I had promised him. "You imagined what my bedroom looks like as well?"  I heard him trip behind me.

"Did uh- Did you know someone's bedroom often reflects their personality because it’s in our nature to influence our environs to our choice and preferences. Over time, your bedroom reveals your personality and it develops a persona of its own. It's extremely improbable that any two bedrooms will look the same. So a tidy room can suggest a person is organized, detail-oriented, and perhaps even a bit of a perfectionist. Conversely, a messy room could indicate a more relaxed, less structured personality, or perhaps even a sign of underlying issues like disorganization or difficulty letting go of possessions."

"I bet you're just dying to see my bedroom to prove that theory."  I flashed a grin at him over my shoulder, my hands busy preparing our tea.

"I mean, the more data is input into a statistic, the more accurate it becomes." I breathed a laugh and put a mug with steaming tea in front of him.

"Bold." When I looked up, I was surprised to see that he's holding my gaze. "Also sounds like the beginning of a very nerdy adult movie." Cheeks warmed and eyes shy away, and after a moment, mine did too. I busied myself with sips of my tea.

“You usually use humor and sarcasm to deflect. Something you want to talk about?”

“No, not really. I mean, getting left alone in a dirty bar because my friend decided to leave with some guy wasn’t necessarily nice, but…other than that, I’m fine. And while I normally use my humor to deflect, I also often use it just to unnerve you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun. And it causes you to blush. And I just-” pause. I wasn’t sure if I should say it. But his eyes were expectantly following my every move, and so I set down my mug and took a step closer to him. “I guess I just like to cause a reaction in you.”

“But why?” His mug joined mine on the counter. We were suddenly so close that he would only have to raise his hand to touch me.

“Because…sometimes it feels like you try so hard not to have one. A reaction to me, I mean. Sometimes it feels like you distance yourself until you’re a thousand miles away, and the only way to reach you is to get you vulnerable enough so that my mind can touch yours. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

“Y/N I-” He sighed and looked away again. I could see it in his eyes, the distance.

“There! That is exactly what I mean. Why do you do that?” No answer came, so I grew frustrated. “Tell me why you won’t let me near.”

“Because I can’t!” His words were too loud for the tiny space we had created. “I just- I can’t.”

“But why?” My voice cracked on the words. It was quiet for another moment before I asked what I had been too afraid to ask this whole time. “Is it because I’m your boss’s daughter? Or is it because you think I’m too young for you?”

“That’s not-”

“Or is it because you’re too afraid to let someone in? Because if it is, I can understand that. Do you think this is easy for me? It’s not. But I-” He turned away suddenly.

“I should never have come inside. This isn’t good for either of us.” He turned away to leave, but I gripped his sweater with just enough force to stop him and turn towards me again. His eyes met mine and every word vanished from my mind. My defences were gone, and even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t listen to them anyway. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I rose up on my toes to kiss him, and his hands found the sides of my head like he had been waiting for it. Months of build-up came crashing down on us fast, but I felt alive. His lips were soft against mine, fingers buried in my hair.

We kissed until there was no air left in our lungs, and after that his lips moved to my jaw as the small of my back hit the kitchen counter.

A small moan escaped me from the impact, and everything shattered. 

I felt the cold air before I registered him moving away. He was halfway across my apartment when I came to my senses and went after him.

“Spencer, wait-”

“I told you I can’t do this, Y/N. We can’t do this!” I opened my mouth but he took the words right out of my mouth. “Don’t ask me why. We just can’t.”

“But-” Weak pleas on deaf ears.

“No. I am not repeating myself. I don’t think we should keep meeting. It will get both of us hurt.”

“Spencer!” But he was already out the door.

The next days were spent with more desperate pleas sent via text.

“Call me back, please.”

“I just want to talk.”

“Spencer, please just call me back.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“You kissed me back like you wanted to.”

“Can we just talk about this, please?”

“Are you going to ignore me forever?”

“You know, I could just turn up at your work, right? I’m a Hotchner after all.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I hope you know I would never do that.”

“But what about the next dinner party at Rossi’s? Are you gonna pretend I don’t exist?”

“Did that kiss truly mean nothing to you?”

The last message stung, sitting on read for days. But after three weeks, I managed to accept that it was over. Spencer Reid did not want me in his life. And as much as it hurt, I had to find a way to live with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You weren’t eager to talk to me before everything went to shit, so I figured it wouldn’t be any different now.” I finally said. My hands started fiddling with the menu again, our coffees cold and long forgotten. I could feel his eyes on me.

“The last time I saw you, you had a head injury and were terrified out of your mind. Of course, I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you’re alright too. I just- I didn’t know how to reach you and if you had your phone.” His confession made me look up to see his eyes already on me. I held his gaze for a moment, for about 3 heartbeats, before I forced a smile on my face.

“And?” I repeated his earlier question, trying to make it sound funny. From the look on his face, I hadn’t managed.

“Well, you seem physically fine. You’re nervous, but that's because of this situation. And the rest… I was never good at reading you, never knew what was going on in your head. I guess you get that from Hotch.” His hands reached out to take the menu from me, probably to keep me from accidentally ripping it. His fingers grazed my wrist unintentionally. I felt like I was going to burst into tears. “Will you tell me how you are?”

“Oh, I am fine. Like you promised all those months ago…Nothing happened to us, or me.”

“I hate to admit that I had no part in that.”

“You had other things to worry about.” I wasn’t sure if I could say it out loud. In prison for 3 months.

“Funny you say that, when in reality prison gave me too much time to worry about all of the things I couldn’t control. Like my mother getting sicker every day, and the fact that Scratch was still running around free, and I had no idea if you were okay.” My throat felt like it was getting tighter. I didn't expect him to worry so much.

“Penelope told me that your mother was better now. Is that not true?” 

“No, it is. She's better now. But things were getting worse for a while, which was mainly my fault.” Self-deprecation and shame laced his words. “It's a long story, and also the story of how I got framed for murder in the first place. I don't feel like telling it.”

“That's okay. You don't have to tell me anything.” My words were almost a whisper. “Are you talking to someone at least?” He paused and leaned back in his seat slightly, guarded.

“Yes. My reinstatement requires mandatory therapy, if that's what you mean.” 

“And how about a non-mandatory therapist? Because you and I both know you want to be reinstated and would keep things from them to achieve that.” I regretted my words the second they had left my mouth.

“Prentiss isn't worried, so neither should you.” Cold, harsh words, meant to throw me off, I'm sure.

“I'm not doubting your ability in the field, Spencer. I'm worried about you.”

“You don't think we are past that point?” I could see that he didn't really mean it, but he had said it nonetheless. And I knew he did it to hurt me. I swallowed down the tears that stung in my eyes.

“You just told me you worried about me while you were in prison. So why would you say that.” The hurt was visible in my voice.

“That's different.” His whole body tensed, arms crossing in front of him.

“How?” 

“It just is.”

“That's not a real answer and you know it!” The sadness disappeared and was replaced by hot, burning anger. “ ‘It just is’, ‘I can't’, ‘Don't ask me why, we just can’t’.” I said, mocking his voice. Bile rose in my throat, but I pushed it down. “I am not a stupid child, Spencer. You don't get to treat me like one! You might think that you don't owe me these explanations, but you do!”

“I don't owe you anything, Y/N.” He said it with such certainty and resentment that I couldn't stop the tears from flooding. The other people in the cafe were looking our way when an involuntary sob left me. “Y/N, I-” 

But the room suddenly felt too small, and the air too thick. I knew I had to leave now to keep at least some of my dignity. So I quickly grabbed my bag and scrambled out of the seat. 

He called my name again, but I didn't want to hear anything else from him.

[iamthepulta]

I'm not the target, OP, so I can't help with a library plan, but here's my thoughts since I'm struggling with students finding and using reliable sources for their final project.

Walk them through the process of tracking a research "question". When they struggled, I felt like the students weren't afraid of finding sources so much as they struggled to understand the scope of the assignment and how one source might be better to help them. I'm going to spend less time in class outlining the assignment and more time showing how I found what was important in large sources by asking "what ore deposits are in this valley?" "what archaeology has been found here?"

I've noticed this works best for students when presented as a sort of open ended railroading. "Which of the three books would you use for your project? Why?" "How confident are you in the reliability of this source?" It's the sort of grading you trust them and nod, but they get to see the thought process in action. Next semester, I plan to have them submit one paragraph idea of their paper with sources for 1pt extra credit so I can give them feedback before the final deadline if the sources are poor.

Alternatively, for those too overwhelmed by options: I'll tell them to blindly pick a source and build their essay from that rather than the other way around. That's a privilege I have in my class though, and yours sounds a little more structured.

.

Additional notes from my own experience: The library was weirdly intimidating for me before I started needing esoteric sources? I find the search function VERY finicky (your local library's may vary) and often frustrating when there's a book I know is there from WorldCAT, but it won't appear and I have to jump through several hoops to find it in the system. I can see undergrads just throwing out the source all together. (In this particular case, the author's name had been uploaded with a comma, and was not being found in the system.) There's also the preconception of "waiting" to get a book. If they're doing this the night before, (or a few days before), it's not as doable. Considering the amount of geologists who have ADHD, 30% doing it far enough in advance to use the library actually sounds accurate. xD

Also, our university search function is really hard to get to?? To the point I've bookmarked the advanced, signed-in search page and the "Library Request" feature because it's an extra five minutes if I don't. I'm not sure if your library has a similar problem, but it's admittedly a million times easier for me to use google scholar, scihub, and all the other pdf sites and use the library as a last resort. The students could also be doing this.

A very kind librarian at my university showed me how to add library access links to make this easier, and it's really helped knowing what is available at my library, and obtaining it. If they don't have this enabled, it's that much harder to use.

Library mutuals, library friends of a friend, and library cryptids who are more than six degrees of separation from me:

Hey y'all.

My introductory earth science/geology class recently submitted a podcast project that required them to use at least one of 42 books as a source. Students were informed that these books were freely available in our university library in quantities sufficient to support every single group.

However, while grading their podcasts, I started to notice a pattern that prompted me to stop and re-listen to all the podcasts so that I could start an Excel sheet to track The Patten.

Y'all. 72% of my students declined to go to the library to get their free book.

58% opted to purchase their book (& I need to stress, these are not "fun read" books for most of the population)

13% simply didn't use a book because of reasons from the "I didn't want to/I don't know how/I'll just take the point deduction" family

1% told me they found a pdf online.

After speaking with my classes, it genuinely seems like they are intimidated by the library and/or unsure of how to navigate it. A lot of them hadn't been inside a library since their elementary school years. (The only really positive news that came out of the talk was that one student referred to the DDC as the "Dew Drop Numbers" and I don't know why but I love that.)

Anywho, I have a lot of freedom with my labs, and so I want to organize a library field trip class that includes an in-library lab. (& please don't stress, once I have an idea I plan to reach out & get the approval of my Library Bestie)

I was thinking if I put this lab at the start of the class, they could actually use this lab to gather and check out their sources for their podcasts, but I'm really struggling to come up with something that wouldn't be just "look for your sources!" because I can already see students blindly grabbing 3 books at random and calling it a day.

I've never done anything like this before, and neither has my Library Bestie, so I'm wondering if anyone here has ideas or experience with activities that could keep 20-40 undergraduates engaged and exploring the library for 1-2 hours.

I'm open to and appreciate any suggestions!

[the-silver-chronicles]

2025 Year Of The OTP February Prompts: "You're Mine" [Boa Lurking In The Bliss]

Tagging @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @raresvtm @josephseedismyfather @noodlecupcakes @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.

February Prompts based on this Year Of The OTP fandom event as well as something for Valentines Day. Tackling the following prompts: Valentines Day, "It made me think of you", Bed Sharing & Mind Control/Break.

Sharing the February Oneshot here, but alternatively can be found on my AO3 here. I suppose this will count as one of my major contributions to Faithbruary (despite the fact I'm doing this for the other months too).

Unlike January's oneshot Our Love, this Faithbruary oneshot You're Mine includes a content warning for dubious consent for kissing, mostly due to use of Bliss.

Anyway, you can read the oneshot below the cut or on my AO3 above. Enjoy!:

Title: You’re Mine

Series: The Silver Chronicles (Far Cry 5)

Pairing: Boa Lurking In The Bliss (Silva Omar/Faith Seed)

Prompts: February – Valentine’s Day, “It made me think of you”, Bed Sharing & Mind Control/Break.

Genre: Fluff but really Dark Angst.

CW: Mildly dubious consent for a kiss (Standard procedure with use of Bliss). The horrifying use of Bliss on a person. Obsession and possessiveness from Faith Seed.

Words: 2,623

In the unconscious chasm of sleep, Silva stirred upon feeling the familiar sensation of heat washing over her skin.

Though her eyes were heavy, she pushed herself through the tiredness to open them, undeterred by the brightness above. The sun seemed to be intense today.

Awakening, she stretched on the soft silk sheets of the queen-sized bed, the large blanket drifting down to reveal she was wearing a pyjama button-up shirt and shorts. She didn’t remember putting such clothing on yesterday, but the night before had been more or less a blur to Silva, so it wasn’t anything she should focus on.

Rubbing at her face, she paused when she noted her gloves weren’t on, her sensitive hands feeling tingly under the soft gaze of the sun. Her dark hair, usually braided into one tail, was also undone, allowing her long dark hair to flow behind her.

She furrowed her brows at that until her attention was turned towards an additional weight on the bed.

Her train of thought was swiftly forgotten as she focused on the beautiful mujer sitting on the edge of the bed, still ethereal in the white dress she wore. Her flowing light brown hair that reached a little over her shoulders was a majestic sight, but what captivated Silva most her alluring green eyes.

And when her lips quirked up into a content smile, Silva could feel her heartbeat quicken, and the fog on her mind felt heavier.

Faith was here.

When did she get here? Where is here?

The unprompted thought brought confusion, though she didn’t get to focus on it when Faith stated, “You’re finally awake.”

Silva blinked, and felt herself return a smile as she pushed herself up, sitting up against the bed’s head.

Her eyes briefly trailed to the surrounding foliage, mist with a green hue surrounding familiar white flowers. The logic of it baffled Silva, but she elected to ignore it in favor of a reply.

“I haven’t had a goodnight rest like that in ages,” she said, her grey eyes taking in Faith’s form before her, “How long was I out?”

How did I get here?

The thought repeated, and Silva felt something at the edge of her mind.

The crackling of gunfire. The blare of speakers playing soothing music. Eyes hurting, tears welling. Inhaling sweetness-

“Just a couple hours,” Faith answered, scooting closer to Silva with… a tray of freshly baked steaming bread and a cup of tea. She was surprised she didn’t notice Faith holding it sooner, but with a growl from her stomach, Silva’s priorities shifted from questioning to eating.

Silva rationalized she hadn’t fully woken up yet, hence why she didn’t notice the food Faith was holding. Even if she didn’t believe that herself. What’s going on with me-

Faith pushed the tray into Silva’s hands, forcing the dark-haired woman to shift concentration on not spilling anything onto herself or the bed.

“You had such a rough night though, you’ll probably need more rest for the celebration,” Faith mentioned, observing Silva settle the tray onto her own lap and breaking the hot bread in half.

“Celebration?” Silva raised a brow at that, taking a bite out of the softness of the hot bread. She resisted the urge to hum in contentment, not long before devouring it fully.

Faith only smiled in response, waving away the question, “Nothing to think about. It’ll be a long while until then. Leaves plenty of time for us…”

Silva had just picked up the teacup when she noticed the purr in Faith’s voice. She noted how Faith twirled a stand of light brown hair, her green eyes on the other woman with a familiar intensity of emotion.

“Us?” Silva repeated the distinctly emphasized word in a soft murmur, her tone inquiring while she looked away from Faith’s beautiful face. The use of that word accompanied by Faith’s behavior held an implication that only made her heart pump faster, so she took a sip from the all too sweet tea.

Not helped by Faith’s coy smile (was it coy? Or was it sly?). Nor how she reached her hand out to caress Silva’s cheek… and cupped her face…

The sweetness burned in her lungs. She knew she was a goner. She could already feel lighter-

“You know what today is, Silva?” Faith asked with a tilt of her head, keen to observe all of Silva’s expressive reactions.

Silva tried to remember if she even knew the answer. The days all kind of blur together ever since-

“February 14th,” Faith stated, taking the teacup from her hands and returning it to the tray, removing it from Silva’s lap to place it aside on the sheets, making room for her to shuffle closer to Silva on the bed.

However, Silva had a spark of familiarity with the specific date that distracted her from Faith’s enfolding approach.

“Got a special someone to spend some lovin’ on tomorrow, Dep?” asked the gruff, scratchy voice of one of the Guns. The flame-throwing one.

A brief panicked thought erupted in her mind, Why can’t I remember his name? I should know his name! Isn’t it-?!

“Valentines Day,” Silva muttered to herself, the thoughts gone in favor of realizing the day’s significance. She tried to claw on to that memory… the memory of a name, now too blurry to make out what the words were, but just as quickly as it came, it slipped from her grasp. Her eyes returned to Faith when she realized the other woman was straddling her.

In her hazy mind, Silva still recognized the proximity was an intimate gesture that she knew could only be shared between amantes. She remembered sharing her personal space with Irene before-

“I got something for you,” Faith softly told Silva, face ever closer, the smell of citruses invading her nose, strong enough to make her head dizzy. There wasn’t much distance between their faces, nor their lips; a dangerous thought whispered that, if Silva just inched more closer, she could probably capture Faith’s lips in her own.

…Wait, no! I can’t be thinking about kissing Faith Seed! She’s my en-!

Faith pulled out something from behind her, bringing it up between them; it was a small gift box, it’s size fitting on Faith’s palm.

Silva, with an odd hesitance, lightly took the little gift from Faith. There was an Eden’s Gate cross was drawn on the top of it.

The last thing she recalled before her consciousness fell into the familiar sweet darkness was how the dreaded cross looked down on her with a judgement as ferocious as the surrounding flames.

“Open it,” Faith encouraged, a wide and excited smile on her face.

Silva shook away the unprompted visage; somewhere in her mind echoed its insignificance. She followed Faith’s instruction, opening the little box’s lid to reveal-

A bracelet?

That was Silva’s initial thought, considering its design. It looked like a small grey python coiled around, poised to strike. It appeared to be made of a kind of special leather, one she’d expect to find at the Seed’s Ranch.

That thought provoked a glimpse of a familiar bearded man wearing a blue shirt and vest, his grin manic while holding a bloodied screwdriver.

Her hand went to her chest, where the skin had once been exposed. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and citrus air that put her at ease, she refocused her attention back onto the bracelet.

Inspecting it closer, she noted that it was a bit wide to be a bracelet and came to another conclusion.

“Is it a… choker?” she asked Faith, mildly curious on what compelled Faith to gift her this.

The light brunette stifled a snicker, uncharacteristic of the woman that Silva knew. Or thought she knew…

Regardless, Faith decided to correct Silva, “No, it’s not a choker. Close though. Think of it as… a “special necklace” or rather a pendant. Here, I’ll put it on for you.”

Without so much as a chance to decline, Faith took the pendant out of the box and got Silva to turn around. The way she pressed against her back caused Silva’s cheeks to burn and darken from the contact, but Faith didn’t seem to notice. Not that Silva entirely minded… not while the other woman coiled the necklace around her neck. Almost collaring her, but that thought was shoved away swiftly.

“And done!” Faith exclaimed, skidding back to let her check out the jewellery. Silva noted that it was a bit small, but she could see the chain and embellishment attached to it; she realized it was a love heart with the intricate engravings of a Bliss flower, the chain attached to the mouth of the python.

It was certainly a strange choice of gift, but not one she was against nor unused to wearing.

Wait… where’s my locket? Silva realized her golden necklace was missing. Which shouldn’t be possible. She took special care in ensuring it was close to her. I can’t have lost it! It’s too valuable! It’s the only way to feel close to-!

Silva felt a weight over her shoulders, which happened to be Faith slumping herself onto Silva’s back, wrapping her arms around the taller woman.

“I hope you like it,” Faith murmured into Silva’s dark skin, the vibrations of her voice like a tickle that caused her to shudder, “It made me think of you.”

Before Silva could form a reply, Faith pressed a soft peck on her cheek, much to the surprise of her companion.

She receded to the shell of Silva’s ear, whispering, “Happy Valentines.”

Silva had been trying to make heads and tails of the nature of their relationship, especially with this strange exhausting fog over her mind hindering her ability to even think clearly, but she just got her confirmation.

She was with Faith Seed. I’m with Faith Seed…

She was in the presence of Faith Seed – futilely struggling against the accompanying Peggies guarding the herald with declining strength – the Deputy’s allies were forced to retreat from the fields they’d been ambushed in, leaving Silva at the mercy of the Siren, who drew closer with a closed fist.

Faith wasn’t angry though; in her fist were more of the white powdered Bliss she manufactured in the Henbane. Her expression lacked the emotion too. Displayed across her face was-

“Silva? Is something the matter?” Faith asked her, head on her shoulder from behind. Glancing down, she saw such beautiful green eyes conveying a worry she hadn’t seen for a long while in anyone; at least, anyone close to her.

Silva felt the fog cloud her mind again, and she could almost feel an ache pounding in her skull; like an alarm alerting of danger. But looking around the foliage and mist of the Bliss, Silva could not find the supposed danger her mind screamed was close by. Not near her, not her amour, nor the big bed they shared under the hazy sun.

She tried to remember what she had been thinking about, but couldn’t recall, as if her mind was playing tricks on her again.

“Nothing… just that,” she stammered, thinking on any possibility, before she realized she’d been touching her new necklace, and came up with a different issue, “I didn’t get you a gift.”

Faith giggled, gently tugging Silva so the latter woman could turn around to the former. Once Silva had done as instructed, Faith leaned forward and softly told her, “Having you here is more than enough of a gift for me.”

Soon, she pressed a hand against Silva’s chest and started to tenderly push her down onto the mattress of their shared bed; Faith moving closer until she straddled Silva’s hips, leaning forward above her submissive partner.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Faith began, letting out an elated sigh as she stared down at Silva with such intense green eyes, “The grip you have on me. You never stopped invading my thoughts ever since you arrived. I could never get you out of my head, not when you showed up here, time and time again. There was always more to you than what my brothers could see… than what the Father saw.”

She descended closer to Silva’s face, continuing, “That determination. That fierceness. Most of all that cunning intellect. You’re stronger than you let on. No one’s noticed… no one except me of course.”

Faith smirked above her; a smirk Silva found familiar, something that alarmed her, interested her, left her bothered as she felt hot. She noticed that the sky above them seemed to blur from a visage of the heavens to a cold steel ceiling, the sun more akin to a bright light.

“My brothers don’t see it, or refuse to, but you’re just so… good,” Faith purred out, trailing her fingers down Silva’s face to the necklace, “So worthy of crossing Eden’s Gate. I envy that. Maybe they do too… but that could just be me.”

She giggles, and Silva found herself lost on any action she could do. Her mind seemed foggier than before. Names she knew kept slipping; important details drifting from her conscious thoughts into some sleepless dream.

“They want you though,” Faith kept speaking, even if Silva could no longer infer what exactly she was talking about, “They want you all to themselves, so they can fix you, because they think you’re already broken. But they’ll only end up breaking you instead. I don’t think you’re broken, though. I think you’re perfect. And they’ll only end up corrupting what’s so good about you.”

“But I won’t let them,” her fingers hooked under Silva’s necklace, pulling her up to meet closer to Faith’s delighted face, “Because you’re safe here, with me… in the Bliss.”

“And if they try to take you away from me,” Faith brought her hand up, beckoning a green mist of Bliss to dance around her delicate fingers through will alone, “Even though I would never go against my brothers… I’m sure I can convince them to see from my perspective. Just like those locusts from the prison…”

Faces Silva thought she recognized popped up in her mind’s eye, but they soon blurred into oblivion as all she could see was Faith.

“But it probably won’t come down to that,” Faith assured, dissipating the mist in her hands as she caressed Silva’s cheek with her palm, while her other hand flicked the pendant with that familiar smirk again, “Once they see a glimpse of this, they’ll know to back off.”

Silva recognized a dangerous glint in those green eyes, one which invoked a dying voice in her mind being drowned out by the overwhelming citrus and fog. It pushed her to do anything; anything to defy this, to refuse it. Not accept.

But all Silva could muster out was a soft, slurred question, “What makes you say that?”

In response, Faith lowered herself until they were face to face, lips barely gracing the other. A part of Silva wanted to connect… even if she wasn’t entirely sure that was what she really wanted.

“Because there’s a meaning behind it,” Faith replied, her smirk widening. Too familiar, Silva’s mind screamed as it became less and less clear, Remember, danger!

“And what’s the meaning?” she asked as that smirk reminded Silva of a memory involving it.

Silva could hardly process what came before and next; in no small part thanks to the Bliss ravaging her memories. She remembered just as Faith finally lowered herself to her lips, there was a murmur as they connected, a murmur that synchronized with the same possessive words she whispered to her fading consciousness in the aftermath of the ambush within those Bliss fields.

“You’re mine.”

[wombywoo]

beach boys 🏖️

[iamstilldefinitelytheratking]

My favourite little war criminals

[feverish-desires]

He had to admit, he was not expecting that response. He'd thought she'd be eager to get out of this room, let alone out of the castle, so he hadn't prepared a bribe to get her to comply. "Ruby, darling. How foolish do you think I am?" He stalked closer to her, still holding the cuffs.

"I'm not taking you out of this room without some restraints on those powers of yours, so how likely do you think it is I'll let you leave the castle without them?" He had no illusions about what she'd do the moment she sensed any chance of escape, no matter how comfortable she'd been in the last few weeks. "You'll be in no danger with me, I promise. We'll be escorted by guards the entire time," while his tone was reassuring, he was aware that likely came across more like a threat.

"There's an old temple near here, I want you to take a look at the ruins and see what you make of it. I'd like to take you... but if you won't wear the cuffs, I'm afraid I'll have to choose another witch." He shrugged regretfully, even though it was a lie. He needed her, but he didn't want her to know that. She was already far too self-assured.

Eyes trailed from the cuffs back up to the king and she had to hold herself from scoffing. Instead, she was sucking on her cheek while continuing to listen. "We're leaving the castle?" That scoff she had held, left her throat anyways. "I'm not interested in going out there as your dog on a leash, thank you." The words left her mouth before she knew, but Rubienna showed no emotion when she eyed Jasper.

"I am not putting those on. Not out in the open, I'll be a walking bait for everyone who wants something from me." Or want her dead. The redhead put her hands behind her back. "What is it? What's the job about?"

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[dandyshucks]

i am freeeeeeeee [collapses into a pile of dust]

[theophagie]

I'm not good at this staying away from social media on purpose thing. Anyway cringe diary time but whenever I'm with my friends and the partners topic comes up I'm left 🧍‍♂️ because oftentimes they lament things that honestly sound good to me... and then I reflect on what kind of relationship I would be comfortable in in general and go "mhhh yeah let's just be sympathetic and say nothing else right"

[kelin-is-writing]

my father said that seen how badly they're treating me at my workplace, he and my mother will support me if i choose to quit that hell hole.

[castleinthemist]

i really should fucking replay bravely default. i understand job systems better now i can break this game

[hellsquills]

If I'm not honest with my friends about how I feel, then my mind has proof that they could be doing the same and I wouldn't know

If I'm always honest with them and they reciprocate, then my mind knows that we've had difficult conversations before and we'd do it again if needed

You'd be so surprised to see how many of those "arguments" are simply communicating issues/misunderstandings and not real problems

“no one’s ever mad at me unless they tell me so” is the best assumption i’ve ever made

[theobservatory]

Waitin All Day｡⁠.ﾟ★ ˎˊ˗

｡⁠☆Synopsis: how they confess

｡⁠☆Cw: Grovelling, low self esteem, you take a slight backseat in this one bc it's about THEM confessing not you, suggestive on Bruce's part, you're in a bra on Bruce's part but gn besides for that

｡⁠☆CH: Tim ☆ Jason ☆ Dick ☆ Bruce

✧Bruce✧

Confession in the heat of the moment.

You honestly had no idea Bruce liked you. Sure, you've had a crush on him for going on a year now, but he's so gently tempered and naturally flirty. This man can hide a gunshot wound like it's no problem, let alone some romantic feelings.

You've watched him flirt his way into the pants of all types of people. Some for fun, some for missions, some for WE. Hell, it's not like two haven't done your fair share of fooling around either.

It's not like anyone could blame you. He's rich, kind, and so so handsome. Anyone would do the same in your shoes.

Most people would also advise against falling in love with the most eligible bachelor in all of Gotham, however. In fact, if you were giving advice to anyone else, you would tell them that this is only bound to end in heartbreak.

Yet here you are, drooling over one of your closest, richest, promiscuous, friends. Like an absolute idiot.

Bruce, on the other hand has been head over heels since you first met. He noticed immediately when you started reciprocating.

Did he start flirting with you way more, just to see you flustered? It's a possibility that he won't admit to, if asked. Did he ever actually act on his feelings besides for a couple way too intense make-outs and dry humping? No, he did not.

He's a vigilante, you're a civilian. It just wouldn't work. Even if you do know his secret, his life is dangerous, and he wants danger very far away from you.

Still, he's always been a selfish man. He ends up confessing to you anyway.

It's spur of the moment, words he didn't mean to say. Despite the fear of dragging into his life, of you being hurt or kidnapped, he doesn't regret it. He could never regret loving you.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

You're sitting on his lap while he's laid down on his bed. Your fingers drag from button to button on his shirt, teasingly unclasping them as you lowly ramble on about your day. You're telling a bunch of benign stories, things that don't matter, that Bruce would care to hear about any other time than now.

His pupils are blown a little as his hands hold your hips in place. He's looking up at you with a fondly playful expression, a tiny lit of arousal dancing in his features.

"What about you, Bruce?" You ask, fingers teasing the second to last button on his shirt. "How was your day?"

"Mine? Nothing but meetings on top of meetings, I'm afraid."

His hands begin to roam, slipping under your shirt to tease the clasp of your bra. He does the action like it's absent minded, like he isn't even thinking about where his hands are, but you know he's aware of what he's doing.

You lean down and kiss a few lines up his hard chest. The light stutters in his chest only egg you on. It's like a shock of boldness shoots through you as the tip of your tongue licks at his skin. You might regret that later, but now your hands come up to ghost over his nipples under the guise of shifting his button down.

"I'm sorry your day's been so boring." You murmur into his chest.

"It's much better now."

"Yeah?"

His hand finally unclasps your bra.

"Mhm."

You're flipped suddenly. When your vision is straightened out Bruce's shirt is completely gone, leaving him bare on top of you. It's not easy to bury the heat crawling from your throat to your face, but you manage. Eventually.

Your shirt is next to go, exposing you to the chill of the room. Goosebumps instantly appear on your shoulders, but Bruce is there to rub them away.

"You're gorgeous." He whispers. "Exquisite."

You think that's a bit romantic for a friendly fuck, but okay, you're not complaining. Bruce is the man of your dreams, you'll take whatever placating words he wants to give. You can play pretend. It's like roleplay that hurts your heart afterwards.

Bruce must see a shift in your body language, or maybe he can tell you're not taking his compliment seriously. He frowns deep, an upset furrow in his brow.

"I'm serious. I've never been with anyone as tantalizing as you." His hands run up your shoulders to trap your wrists above your head. "You're beautiful, kind, charming." He plants a kiss to your throat with every compliment. "You're everything anyone could ever want."

You begin to slightly tune out his words. The soft dominance he's displaying is sending you into subspace faster than you want it to. That soft and fuzzy part of your brain is beckoning you back with Bruce's gentle, loving hands. It's too hard to shove it away.

"Do you understand that I'd make you mine if I could?"

"Yours?"

He pauses. You don't see the look of understanding cross his face when he realizes you're slipping away from him. You're turning into a needy puddle under his hands faster than you know, and quicker than you ever have. You barely process when he locks eyes with you. That heady fondness in his eyes that makes you grow warm, turning your already slowly melting brain into jello.

"Mine." He repeats. "I'd take you around to every party, every gala. Wear you on my arm to show off how lucky I am. Would you like that?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

Your lips lock, and one of his hands runs down your sides, feeling you. He leaves tingles behind the pads of his fingers.

"I'll tell you again later, I swear. I'll repeat it as many times as you need me to."

✧Dick✧

A confession connoisseur.

You've been dancing around each other for months. It's painful for everyone involved, including yourselves.

It's not like you both aren't aware that you like each other. You'd have to be blind not be aware of how gone you are for each other.

You both face constant questions. "Are you guys together?" "When are you going to start dating?" "You know he likes you, right?"

Which yes, of course you know he likes you. The man follows you around like a big puppy, and he won't let you open doors if he's around. He basically already acts like your boyfriend.

Heaven forbid you flirt with someone while you're out with him. He's behind you looming, looking just like the big bat himself. So mean, and so protective for someone who isn't your boyfriend.

You always make as much known as well.

You're happy to take another guy's number if he gets his ass in gear. Dick's "You're not actually gonna call him, are you?" Goes completely ignored.

His confession takes forever because he is determined to make it perfect. Richard Wayne-Grayson is a boyfriend extraordinaire, and he wants to make sure you're aware. Hell, if he could swing it he'd ride in on a horse, swoop you up, and ride off into the sunset, like some sort of cheesy Disney movie.

And they say chivalry is dead? Wrong. It's right here.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

You're staying the manor for tonight. Dick is home visiting his family, and as usual, you're glued to his side. Whether it was by choice this time is anyone's guess.

Everyone's out on patrol, Alfred's down in the cave. You're alone in this giant house, besides Damian's various dogs and cats, of course. You took the chance to bond with Titus, you're both down in the family moving room, lounging.

Then a text pings on your phone, causing Titus to sniff at you.

Where r u ?

You roll your eyes.

The manor. Where else ?

No I mean wat room ?

Movie room. The small one.

Perfect. Look under the couch

You do, Titus staring at you with judgement when your back cracks from leaning over the arm.

There's a folded up piece of paper with a heart and your name. "Check the kitchen ♡"

Your phone pings again.

Have fun :)))

From there is a trail of clues. Different pieces of paper. Some with simple riddles attached, others with blatant directions, a few with gifts attached to them. At some point you even have to find Alfred to give you another little slip of paper, much to your embarrassment.

The end of the trail leads you straight to Dick. He's got a soft look on his face, his hair slick, but framing his chiseled face. He's wearing a suit as well, a gorgeous outfit in his hand, clearly tailored for you.

"Hey, pretty girl."

"Grayson."

"Ouch, so cold to the man who's about to ask you out."

You smirk, a lovey-dovey emotion rolling around your chest. "Well, I'm waiting."

Dick pulls you toward him, one hand in yours, the other around your waist. He pulls you in so close your nose touch, and then slots himself in the crook of your shoulder and neck.

He whispers your name, but it comes out like a doggish whine.

"We're not even together yet, and I think I like you too much. My heart's beating so fast, it's making me sick. You're my favorite person, you're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with- or at least, spend whatever time you'll give me, with you. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

You're speechless for a moment. You're clutching him, mouth agape, unable to see each other's faces.

"Baby, love of my life, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh Dick, of course I will."

"Great, because I made dinner reservations for two, and it'd be awkward if I showed up by myself."

✧Jason✧

Thinks you deserve a confession, but is as emotionally constipated as his father, unfortunately.

You know he's trying to confess months before he actually does it. You can see it in the way his fingers linger on your skin, how his cheeks flush when you catch him staring. It's adorable watching this giant wall of a man stumble over you like a little school girl.

You also know Jason is much too proud to allow you to confess first. He would never forgive you if you beat him to the punch, so you wait patiently. Well, maybe not patiently. You're complaining to any friend that will listen to you, griping over how cute it is, but how it's driving you mad that he won't just ask. There's no chance in hell you would reject him, and Jason should know that! You've made yourself incredibly obvious.

Still, he spends months trying and failing to confess to you. He'll start, quiet but firm, a little flush on his cheeks. But the moment he looks at you it all falls apart. His heart stutters, causing his brain to stutter, causing his mouth to stutter, and then he just ends up covering your face with his hand.

You pick fun at him as he tells you to shut up, but you both know he'll have to deal with it until he actually finally confesses.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

"Hey."

You know just by his tone where this is going, you've already played this song and dance twice this month. Still, you tilt your head towards him, giving him your utmost attention.

"Hey yourself."

You're sitting on your couch as he's leaning against your wall. His arms are crossed, eyes averted to the ground. It's weird to see such a big man looking so... Tiny...

Jason huffs out a mirthless laugh. "Sorry, I just- I... Fuck."

"Jason?"

"No, don't talk or I'll lose my nerve again." You smother a giggle with your hand. "Don't laugh either, asshole."

You open your mouth to say sorry, but think better of it at the last second. Your mouth shuts with an audible click.

"Th-Thanks. Listen, 'm sorry I haven't been... The most forthcoming with my emotions. I'm trying, but it's- fuck- it's hard, but I'm trying. I'm trying to be better, I want to be better, for you. It's not fair to confess to you when I can't even talk about how I'm feeling, but I'm still doing it anyway because I'm an asshole. God, I'm such an asshole, but-"

"Jason."

"Let me talk, please. I'm an asshole, I'm cruel, unempathetic, and I'm so scared I'm going to hurt you. You deserve everything and more, and I can't even give you half of it, but-but I'm still begging you to give me a chance. Please."

He's made his way over to the couch. His head is pressed onto your knees, his hands squeezing your calves. You press a hand into his thick black curls, gripping the strands as you run your finger through them.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Jason, did you think I was going to say no?"

"Well- no." Really, you can read each other like books at this point. "But I think you should say no. I think if you had any sort of self preservation you'd say no."

"But?"

"But you're the most reckless Gothamite I've ever met, you wouldn't know self preservation if it punched you in the face."

You laugh, and he looks at you with a fond exasperation.

✧Tim✧

Not the confession type.

He's the type to get worked up about the confession. The type to plan and plan and plan until he can't plan anymore, then scrap the entire thing the moment he sees your face.

Because this isn't good enough for you. Nothing is good enough for you. You deserve anything and everything he could ever give, just a 251 step plan? Not enough.

So getting together with Tim is less confession, and more evolution.

It's "I made us coffee" to "let's hold hands" to "I miss you" to "I love you". It's gradual, soft, and easy. Boundaries are pushed in the most gentle way they can be, words are shared in sounds soft enough only you can hear them. It's a cat's type of love, distant, but intimate at the same time.

｡⁠.ﾟ✧ ˎˊ˗

"I've been thinking about selling my apartment." You say, gazing around at the intermingling of yours and Tim's things.

Your books occupy his bookshelves, and your favorite mug is stacked on top of his dirty dishwasher. The hamper of clothes in the bathroom has your underwear in it, but it's balled up inside one of his shirts. His bedroom smells like your perfume, and his pillowcases smell like your hair products.

Tim's gaze snaps up from his laptop. "I think it'd be good for you to get out of that tiny place anyway." His hand has made its way to your thigh, right above your knee. "It's not like I don't have the room."

"I figured I should tell you first."

Tim's gaze also sweeps around the room. His eyebrow quirks as he turns back to you, making you flush a little. It's not like all your stuff isn't already here. There really wouldn't be a difference in whether you kept your apartment or not, except for how much cash is in your pocket.

"You're sweet." Tim placates, giving your thigh a squeeze before turning back to his work.

Chat here's my confession... I think love confessions are cringe I'm sorry </3 it's just... I'm aro and have vulnerability issues. Tim Drake, you're the only one here who gets it the rest of y'all... Pack it up... (I say as if I'm not the one who wrote this)

Originally was gonna include Damian and Duke but the post was getting laggy.

This is my first time writing Bruce. Did I do well ?

｡⁠☆Requests Open

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)