It has been a really, really long time since I have introduced myself in this community of people and I figured that since I have found a few networks of people I would come back on here and introduce myself.
Hello Tumblr, I am known as the DelightfulLlama around the internet but you can just call me Llama if you want. I am a 21 year old Psychology and Criminal Justice student from Minnesota, USA. I struggle with depression and anxiety, probably a few other things I don’t know about as well. I am currently working towards getting my BS in Psychology (I have a year and a term left) but after I am hoping I can work towards my Masters and possibly my Doctorate.
Some Basics: I am a massive fan of coffee, as my blog title can probably tell you. I love music, it has been a huge part of my life since I was a child. I sing, play flute, french horn and basic piano. English is my native language, but I know American Sign Language (ASL) which I need to brush up on because I am so rusty and I am learning Spanish. Because I know a lot of Studyblr’s include it, I am a Ravenclaw as well as an INFJ-T on the Meyers-Briggs scale. I am bisexual, but I do often question if I am actually demisexual based on experiences I have had, and I am also polyamous (You can message me about it if you would like).
While I love reading, I have fallen out of the habit of reading. Instead a hobby I have picked up is games; video games, board games and table top games. I play D&D with a group of friends every so often, as well as various board games such as Smash Up, Munchkin, and Red Dragon Inn. The video games I play are all played with friends I have made online like League of Legends, Dead by Daylight, Borderlands 2, and Don’t Starve.
Studies: Since I am a Psychology major most of my studies are in that field.
Lifespan Development
Personality Theory
Social Psychology
Human Sexuality
Why Am I Here?: I created this blog long ago, not as a studyblr but just as a way to navigate the website and reblog things I thought were cool. Over the years, and from my love of learning, I slowly turned to the studyblr community as what I wanted to be a part of and what I wanted to promote. Along with being a studyblr I love to blog about sustainability, zero waste and green living, LGBT+ issues, mental health awareness, and ways to generally be a better person.
Some Favorite Blogs: I see people promoting their favorite blogs all of the time, and along with my favorites there are some blogs I have recently started to network with who have quickly become like Studyblr-children to me. They are: @geneplans, @plantednotes, @study-sparrow, @coffee-and-resolve, @ittybittystudyblr (I love their icon!), @coffeestudying, @bujo-ie, @psycely, @studypsy and so many more that I will have to make a whole post to mention (Someone remind me).
Thank you all for the amazing support that I have received over the years, this community has been great to watch grow and thrive. Recently I started a blog rate…thing to thank you guys for 250 followers and since that post it has grown to an amazing 287. You guys, we just got to 250 and we are quickly getting to 300. I can’t thank you all enough, and I hope we only continue to grow together.
Énouement: The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.
The folks of the Mountain Lion village talk animatedly around him as they celebrate their victory over the pirates that have ensnared their seas for the past decade. Obi nurses the cup of warm sake in front of him, and periodically turns to reply to a stranger’s exhortation, or a raised glass toasting a job well done in defeating the Sea’s Talon.
His mind wanders repeatedly back to that spot under the tree, leaves falling around them, sunset on her back. He speaks, voice rough, not unlike that when he first reunited with Zen the day before. The apology sits heavily on his tongue like medicine, putrid but necessary. He is earnest, yet distant.
Recognition dawns in her eyes. Obi knows she is no stranger to others’ self-abhorrence. But it is this time he does not wish her forgiveness, or her salvation, and he silences her with a palm to her lips.
The wind shakes the trees around them, threatening the tension built up by a knight defying his mistress. Slowly, he removes his hand. She looks down, scar on cheek pronounced by fair skin, then questions him.
“Does what I think not matter, Obi?”
He smiles, resigned. “Yes, your thoughts don’t matter.”
But his mistress surprises him again, as she always does. She faces him straight on, firm in her conviction.
“Next time I go to Tanbarun, please escort me again,” she says.
He is allowed a brief moment of incredulity. “Huh?”
And the sunset behind her outlines her frame, red hair glowing and mingling with the orange light as the breeze carries it around the edges of her smile. The corners of her eyes squint, and Obi is confused - enraptured - at how the scar on her cheek shapes and accentuates the kindness exuding from her countenance.
“You said next time you’ll take me to the marketplace, right?”
And just like that, it is easy. It is easy to envision himself by her side once more. It is easy to allow himself to protect this smile he sees before his eyes. It is easy even to imagine the bustling of a busy marketplace, Shirayuki glowing with excitement beside him, telling and showing him things of the home of her past.
He almost forgets the formalities ingrained in him from his own.
“Shira-“
The back of his hand slams against his mouth, and he panics. But Shirayuki bows before him, and her voice quakes. “I’m looking forward to it.”
There is a moment when he stares at her bowed form and wonders where on earth she has picked up this habit of humbling herself in front of people who scarcely deserve it. It is a first; to be the one who asks for the other to raise her head, instead of the one who is humiliated.
“I’ll remember that, Miss,” he replies.
The relief on her face was so palpable, he remembers as he sips from his glass. The alcohol has made his vision sightly fuzzy, and his heartbeat pulses loudly in his temple. It hurts when he thinks of the distress Shirayuki unwittingly put herself in whilst searching for him. As much as he regrets his inability to keep her safe, he is chagrined moreso by his inability to keep her unworried.
But it is in this known fact that he resigns to the burden of being acquainted with his mistress’ trust. And he smiles to himself whilst throwing back his glass once more.
How about "I'm not stalking you, exactly. It's just that you accidentally put my notebook in your bag and I'm waiting for a good moment to steal it back before you see the doodles/writing of you I did in it" Obiyuki AU?
Obi jerks his pen from napkin just in time to avoid gouging it through when Torou jostles him, nosing her way over his shoulder.
“Whacha doin there, buddy?”
He sighs, eyes towards the ceiling for guidance, but of course she isn’t looking. She’s snatching the doodle up and holding it towards a better spot of light.
“Oooh,” Torou gushes, looking down the bar at an elderly woman with a tight perm and thick makeup. She’s paying neither one of them mind, her attention glued to the TV monitor up on the wall. “He’s doing a really nice one for you, Josie!”
Josie taps her cigarette against the ashtray without looking down. “I believe it. All his drawings are good.”
Obi plucks the napkin out of Torou’s hands, ears hot. She smacks her gum and grins at him. “Don’t you think he should try to sell his stuff at a first Saturday or something?”
“I tell him that every day.” In his head, Obi groans. “Keeps telling me he needs to practice but he doesn’t have the time.”
“I don’t,” he claps back, coming over and sliding the napkin across the bar. “And paints are expensive. And toxic. And may I remind you both that I have a two year old.”
Josie finally looks down from the screen. “You should get rid of those wrinkles,” she complains.
“Now why would I hide all that beauty?” Obi grins, leaning in.
Her eyes flicker up to his. “Flatterer,” she admonishes, but he knows if her make up was any lighter, he’d be able to see a blush. She taps one cherry red nail against the edge of the napkin. “I should really ask you to draw my granddaughter one day.”
Obi grins. “Bring me a picture. I’d be glad to.”
“Why don’t I introduce the two of you instead?”
His face falls. “I’m sure she has a lot to do. Too busy for my schedule.”
Josie reaches across the way, giving his hand one solid pat. “You’re a good kid, Obi. When are you going to find yourself a nice girl to take care of you?”
Obi clears his throat. “Ah, well, you know-”
“He has one!” Torou chimes in, and honestly- death would be a mercy. “Sorta.”
Invisible eyebrows reach towards the ceiling, and Josie gives him a look. “Sorta?”
“We’re not- she’s not my girlfriend,” he sputters. “She’s my neighbor and she watches Aki a lot and-”
“And she spent Christmas with him!” Torou adds, oh so helpful.
“Oh my,” Josie lifts her drink, smacking her lips. “In my day, that was some serious business, son.”
Obi waves his hands, sweat prickling his temples. “Oh no. Things are different now. There’s nothing-“
“You should draw something for her,” she interrupts, gesturing with her drink. “Then make a copy of it so we can see her. I want to know if she’s fine enough for you.”
“She’s very pretty,” Torou confirms.
His head snaps towards her. “You haven’t even seen her!”
“Have too!” Torou shrugs. “From across the street.”
“You were spying on us?”
Torou pouts. “You texted me to wait in the car. So I, with nothing better to do than watch the door, waited in the car. I honestly don’t see what the big deal is.”
“I don’t need you embarrassing me,” he grumbles.
“Me?” she gasps, palm pressed to chest. “When have I ever done such a thing?”
He glares at her. “Now doesn’t count?”
Her grin grows. “Josie started it. I am putting her worries to rest.”
“Just keep it wrapped up this time, will ya?” Josie comments, eyes back on the tube. “Don’t need a repeat of last time until you’re both ready.”
Obi feels his whole face go hot. “I’m going to go clean the back.”
Torou’s cackle follow him to the kitchen.
~ ~ ~
It’s that point between the dead of night and the crack of dawn when he comes home, the song of the earliest morning birds interrupted by the roar and scream of garbage trucks.
He slowly cracks open the door, taking in the mess of toys littering the floor, the glow of the TV still stuck on cartoon network barely audible in the background, Yuki’s papers and books spread out across the couch, and then Yuki herself, passed out on his recliner. Her eyes are rimmed with deep bruises, jaw slack, and she doesn’t even twitch when he closes the door behind him.
The runt is drooling all over her chest.
A pinch of guilt twists his gut. Aki must have been a real gentleman after he left.
Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, he tip toes his way over the boobytraps left all over the floor, fanning it on top of both of them. Adjusting the cover so it goes all the way up to the neck, he runs his hand once over Aki’s warm scalp, brushing hair away from his face - the boy would need a haircut soon, definitely. He wrinkles his nose, itching it against Yuki’s shirt before settling once again.
Laughing softly, his eyes flicker up to share a secret smile with Yuki. She is still sleeping and her face - it is much closer than he originally thought.
He pulls away, squashing down the jolt of his heart before it could put down another root. It was dangerous, too dangerous, and she had her whole life and a career ahead of her, besides.
Running his hand through his hair, he pulls out his phone and heads towards the bathroom. 9am should be early enough to wake her up so she can get to class on time.
“Obi?”
Her voice is so soft in the way it wraps around him and he comes up short, glancing back over his shoulder. Yuki’s eyes are still closed.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I can take Aki now if you wanted to get up?”
A sleepy smile curves her lips. “No,” she shakes her head. “Leave him. I just wanted to make sure you made it home safe.”
He swallows hard.
“Aki made something for you.” Under the blanket, she gestures with her hand. “I think we left it in the kitchen.”
He glances across the way, to the kitchen table that is just as much of a mess as the rest of the apartment, scattered with broken crayons, one of his old sketchbooks, torn paper, and half empty cups.
In the middle of it all, on top of the crumpled pile, one only slightly mashed drawing of bright colors and random shapes lays, offering itself up like recently unearthed Pollock. Obi smiles, lifting it up, and glances back towards the recliner.
Yuki’s chest rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of those lost to sleep, lips parted and hair fanned over his chair like a sunset. The first rays of morning light slip through the blinds, washing them both in gold.
His fingers itch.
He looks back at Aki’s drawing.
~~~
“Oh my God. Aki, no!”
Obi jerks awake just as a blur of blanket stumbles off of the recliner, barely missing sharp plastic toys it crashes to the ground.
It takes him a minute, crusty eyes blinking into the bright sunlight, but the blanket is on the move, crawling across the floor towards a screaming banshee accompanied by devilish songs with an incessant upbeat tune playing behind it.
Wait, what?
“Let me have that,” the blanket says, prying something from the banshee’s clutches and just that alone is enough to snap him awake.
Oh no. Oh noooo.
“How bad is it?” he croaks, unwinding his legs out from other him.
Yuki’s kneeling, head bowed and hair covering her face. Aki is trying to slip the phone back out of her grasp and she lets out a great and mighty sigh of defeat. “It’s locked for the next 523 years.”
Obi groans, head thudding against the cushion. He rubs his face. “Another trip to the Apple Store. Joy.”
She sighs, standing up, and hands him the phone. “Sorry about the mess. I tried everything last night to get him to settle and–”
Obi takes it from her, blanching when he sees the screen. He checks the wall clock to confirm. “Yuki,” he breathes. “Don’t you have to be in class in 30 minutes?”
He looks up at her just in time to see the blood drain from her face. She snatches the phone back and stares at the screen. “Oh. Oh no.” She looks at her papers scattered all over the couch. “Oh no, I have a test today!”
He’s up, gathering her papers and books. “Go change!” he says, tapping everything into neat piles. “Do you need a ride? Wait. No. Shit. My car is still in the shop. Should I call an Uber?”
She’s already halfway to the door. “Not if I am out the door in the next seven minutes.”
She must set some sort of record for quick change, because when he sees her next, she’s charging down the hall from her apartment with a freshly scrubbed face, clean clothes, and her hair up in a messy bun. He holds up her backpack and she finishes shrugging her jacket on.
“Thanks,” she breathes, taking it and sailing past him. “I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck!” he calls behind her, the door slamming in her wake.
~ ~ ~
It’s five minutes after she leaves that he finds his graphite pencils between the seat cushion.
Ten minutes before he realizes that his sketchbook is nowhere to be found.
And thirty minutes before he collapses on the floor of his living room, face planted into the couch cushions.
“Fuck me.”
~ ~ ~
The knock on the door comes earlier than expected.
Obi’s hands freeze in soapy water, heart and breath caught in his throat.
When the knock comes again, Aki turns from his toys. “Dada,” he points Foxy towards the sound. “Dada, door.”
Obi swallows with a hard thunk. “Thanks, buddy,” he says, toweling off his wet hands.
He crosses the room like a man heading towards his death sentence, takes a breath, and throws open the door.
Shirayuki’s face is flushed red, hands tucked behind her back. Green peeks up at him underneath a fan of long, orange lashes, and-
Ah, fuck.
“Hi.”
She shifts, and even the tip of her nose is red. “Hi.”
“How did the exam go? Did you make it on time?”
She nods once, sharp. “Oh, um, yea. There were two or three questions that I wasn’t sure about, but, um…”
Her voice trails off to silence. Obi decides to get it over with.
“I accidentally packed my sketchbook in your bag.”
Yuki’s blush is so deep that it’s almost purple.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Obi blurts. “I used to draw in highschool and I still do sometimes. It gets me extra tips at the bar, but one of my regulars was telling me that I should draw more and I didn’t mean to make anything weird or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s just that I came home and you and Aki were asleep and the light was perfect and-”
She holds up one hand, a startled laugh wheezing out of her. “No, no,” she shakes her head. “I should have stopped looking when I realized it was your sketchbook!”
“Don’t apologize,” he breathes. “It was my fault and if you feel like I’ve betrayed your trust or something-”
Shirayuki’s eyes go wide. “Oh, Obi, no!” she says, pulling her other arm out from around her back and- there it was. The yellow covered pad that he spent the better part of his day hoping that he put on a high shelf somewhere. “It was nice. I liked them.”
Obi’s eyes snap from the pad to her face. “Really?”
“I don’t really do art, but you’re really good,” she professes, and then- she wrinkles her nose. “Although… my ears don’t look like that.”
Obi laughs, a tense sharp bark of sound. “Ears are hard,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Can I have it?”
His face turns hot, disbelieving. “I, um- Do you want it?”
“Mm!” She nods emphatically, although her smile is sly. “Is there an artist fee? I feel like I should pay you.”
“I do it for the exposure,” he jokes weakly.
Shirayuki laughs, a clear bright sound, and oh- this could have gone terribly. He’s so glad it hasn’t. “You should be paid for your work, Obi.”
His heart squeezes. “Do you have any idea of what I should charge?”
She taps her finger on her chin, lips pursed like she does when she is pouring over one of her textbooks. “I can think of something,” she says, eyes tilting shyly. “I’m just not sure if you would like it.”
As if anything she could give him would be less than perfect. “Try me.”
She swallows, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. “Okay,” she laughs aarily, looking down the hall one way, then another. “Come here.”
Obi frowns, taking one step into the hall, keeping his foot between the door jam. “Here?”
“No, um, I mean yes,” she brushes her hair behind her ear. “But I need you to lean down.”
He does as she asks, lashes fluttering and nerves closing off his throat. “Here?”
Her lips twitch, free hand coming up to lace through his hair and pull him down farther.
“Here,” she breathes, closing the space between them.
The touch of her mouth against his is soft, charged with the pop of static and they jump back, startled. Her eyes are wide honestly- she looks more surprised than him, and then they soften, leaning back in.
This time, electricity doesn’t snap between them. This time his eyes fall shut when her mouth falls upon his, breath pouring out of his lungs in one long rush. Her lips are soft. And sweet. And lemon flavored. They shoot sparks down his spine, through his blood, and he tilts his head, fingers alighting upon her cheek.
She hums against his mouth and he can’t help but smile against hers.
Josie was going to be intolerable.
She pulls back, nails dragging against his scalp before smoothing down his hair. “Do you think that was fair payment?” she asks quietly, her eyes searching his.
Obi swallows, his throat dry. “I think I may double my fee.”
Shirayuki smiles and it is so beautiful. “You drive a hard bargain.”
Differential Association Theory is a Learning Theory that in Criminal Justice particularly in the field of Criminology and Delinquency. Developed by Edwin H. Sutherland the theory suggests that through their interactions with others, individuals learn the values, attitudes, techniques and motives for criminal behaviors. Like many theories of criminology, it attempts to explain how criminal behavior is learned, not just why someone would commit a crime.
In an article titled “A Theory of Differential Association” published in Principles of Criminology in 1960 discussed exactly what went into Sutherland's’ theory in the form of nine major points. They are:
Criminal behavior is learned
Criminal behavior is learned in interaction with other persons in a process of communication
The principle part of the learning of criminal behavior occurs within intimate personal groups
When criminal behavior is learned, the learning includes a) techniques of committing the crime, which are sometimes very complicated, sometimes very simple; b) the specific direction of motives, drives, rationalizations, and attitudes
The specific direction of motives and drives is learned from definitions of the legal codes as favorable or unfavorable
A person becomes delinquent because of an excess of definitions favorable to violation of law over definitions unfavorable to violation of law
Differential associations may vary in frequency, duration, priority, and intensity
The process of learning criminal behavior by association with criminal and anti-criminal patters involves all of the mechanisms that are involved in any other learning
While criminal behavior is an expression of general needs and values, it is not explained by those general needs and values since non-criminal behavior is an expression of the same needs and values
While this theory is not an overarching and all inclusive explanation for how criminal behavior is learned and why people engage in crime it does help to explain some aspects of criminal behavior and can be used to for better targeted interventions.
Finals season is coming up soon, which means I have a lot of studying to do over the next two weeks. One of my hardest classes by far is probably my Research Methods of Psychology class, so I decided to go back through the earlier chapters and write up some notes on all of the sections in them so I can study from the single pages rather than the whole textbook.
Since it is finals time I have a lot of papers due in the next little while. My research methods class is probably the most difficult as the paper is a proposal for research. Wish me luck
