#Criminology Assignment Help

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[earnestsworld]

University is slowly killing me off, I love my course, but why are the assignments the actual worst thing on the planet!!!!!

[thetutorshelpiwewjew]

Criminology Assignment Help in Australia

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[jaythes1mp]

4826 words, 27475 characters, 269 sentences, 122 paragraphs, 19.3 pages

All done in one night🙏 it’s 7:50 am and I haven’t slept, so if you don’t like this I might cry bro

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

You quietly opened the classroom door, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible as you creep inside. You scanned the room, holding your laptop close to your side as your eyes darting around the space with slight panic. Your heart racing from the exertion of running from across campus to get here. Thankfully the professor hadn't started yet and your friend, who already sat near the back of the room, gives you a knowing glance. You give him a sheepish smile as you make your way through the rows of desks to him.

"You cut it a bit close this time." He gives you a cheeky grin. "I made it here though, didn't I?" You retort.

He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the professor clearing her throat at the front of the room, signalling class is about to begin. “Mister Wayne.” She warns, her calculating eyes boring into Tim’s frame. He sits up straight and gives her a sheepish smile.

You have to bring a hand up to muffle your laughter. “Mister Wayne.” You mock quietly, whispering so no one other than the boy next to you could hear.

He felt the eyes of the other students on him like burning hot plates, the majority of them were either envious of him or thought he was an entitled prick.

Of course the professor would call him out for talking when you were the one who ran in late.

Tim couldn't help but smile sheepishly as he was chastised, he had heard your quiet snickering behind. There was this fuzzy feeling in the back of his head at the thought that you were laughing because of him. He had made you happy. He could rub this in Damian’s face later.

The longer class went on the further and further consumed into your little project you got. You had finished the assignment for your criminology course a few days ago, not that Jason was aware. Instead occupying your time with your side hobby. You had over four thousand people following your reporters blog online and it earned you some decent cash. Now far too invested in the lives of the vigilantes of Gotham to really think about anything else. It didn’t help that the people you surrounded yourself with were all geniuses, so you couldn’t rely on them for help even with vague questions as they’d figure out that you’re the author for Blüdhaven’s top trending reporting blog. Maybe Dick could help you, he doesn’t portray himself as the smartest tool in the box when it comes to these things and he won’t ask too many questions.

Your train of thought is cut off as you feel the end of a pen dig into your side, glaring over at Tim.

He kept the pen pressed to your side, not at all being gentle about the small jabs as he tried to get your attention, silently gesturing to you to pay attention to the damn class, not whatever you were doing on your laptop. He’ll have to bug it, seeing as you’re not using your phone as much anymore.

You grimaced when you felt the pen being jabbed into your side again, a silent command to pay attention to the class and stop messing around on your laptop. You rolled your eyes and shot a glare at your friend, who was giving you a pointed look.

You begrudgingly closed the device, knowing that Tim would find other ways to get your attention if you didn’t stop being distracted. You sigh and silently resign yourself to actually paying attention to the class, although you made sure to shoot another glare at Tim for good measure.

Drake follows along quietly as you rush to pack up your belongings. The class seems to end faster than usual, and the moment the teacher releases you from the period, you grab Tim's sleeve and pull him along behind you, quickly making your way out the door with him in tow.

The hallway outside is filled with a mix of noise and chaos. Laughing groups of students chatter away amongst themselves, while others race through, late for their next class. The sound of sneakers scraping against the college’s floors loud and prominent. You push your way through the crowd, guiding him along as you make a beeline for the on-campus cafe.

As you enter the cafe, the atmosphere shifts to a more relaxed vibe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods waft through the air, filling the space with a comforting scent. The cafe is moderately crowded, with students occupying the various tables and booths scattered throughout. Some chat amongst themselves while sipping on their drinks, while others are engrossed in their studies, textbooks spread out before them. There's a gentle hum of conversation that fills the cafe, blending with the soft music playing in the background.

As you scan the cafe for an available booth, your eyes roam over the cozy ambiance, taking in the various students enjoying their time. However, your search comes to an abrupt halt when your gaze falls on Dick Grayson, the young professor, sitting alone in the corner. You discreetly tug on Tim's sleeve and subtly gesture in Grayson's direction with a nudge of your shoulder.

You notice a subtle change in Tim's expression as his lips curve into a knowing grin. He doesn't seem all that fazed by Dick’s presence, almost as if he was expecting it. As if he was already aware that he’d be here. However, what you been blissfully unaware of was Dick’s impatiently bouncing leg, and the checking of his phone every few seconds.

You pull Tim along to the man’s booth, standing opposite him with a grin. Grayson’s face lights up at the sight of you, and he quickly places his phone face down on the table before standing up to greet you. Without hesitation, he spreads his arms wide, opening them in invitation for a welcoming embrace.

You eagerly accept Dick’s open arms, wrapping your own around his sides without a second thought. Seeking out the familiar comfort of his embrace. Your head fits perfectly against his chest, and you relish the feel of his warmth and the comforting familiarity of this act. Settling snugly against him like a younger sibling would to an older brother.

With your head snuggled against his chest, you're not able to spot the dark grins that spread across the brothers' faces as they exchange knowing looks, their gazes fixed on you.

You gradually untangle yourself from Dick’s embrace and slide into the booth, settling comfortably between the two brothers. Chuckling softly when the oldest Wayne seemed reluctant to let go of you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He chirps, resting his head in his palm and idly tracing around the carved lines of the table.

You nod, settling back into the booth and intending to let the two brothers continue their discussion without interruption. However, you quickly realize that their intense stares are focused solely on you, their gazes unwavering and intense. The intensity in their gazes prompt you to discreetly clear your throat in an attempt to break the silence.

"You both are staring at me like you have something to say," you comment. Fiddling with a loose strand at the end of your sweater.

The brothers exchange a glance, seemingly communicating silently between them with subtle nods and raised eyebrows. Eventually, Dick clears his throat and turns his gaze back to you, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Ah, sorry about that. Got a bit lost in thought." Dick says, his voice tinged with a hint of humor.

Tim, on the other hand, remains silent, his steady gaze not leaving you. His expression is unreadable, though a small quirk of his lips suggests a hint of amusement.

“Right...” You look down towards the table, noticing it empty of any beverages nor sweets. Had Dick not ordered before we got here?

You blink, realising your mistake and sitting up. “Oh, sorry. You guys know each other right? I’m sure Timmy-boy has at least one of your classes?”

Dick snorts, but quickly quietens down by a sharp look thrown from Tim. “Yeah, we’re... aquatinted.”

Tim subtly kicks Dick’s leg under the table before turning back to you. “Are you hungry?” His blue eyes analysing you.

You shrug, leaning back and drumming your fingers against the table. “I could eat.”

Dick taps the table, leaning forward to get a better look at you. His eyes flicker with curiosity as his gaze roams over your form, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "What do you feel like eating?" he asks, watching you drumming your fingers against the surface of the table. Tim's expression changes to one of interest as he observes you as well.

The waiter, ever observant, takes this as a cue to approach the table. "What can I get you guys?" he asks, his voice cheerful.

Dick cocks his head, still watching you closely. "We'll have some coffee and some pastries to start," he replies, his gaze flickering back to your fingers tapping against the table.

Tim adds, "Make that two coffees and a basket of assorted pastries."

You nod in agreement with their exchange, letting your hands fall to your lap as you continue to follow the conversation. "Ah, I think I'll go for the milkshake of the day," you add, addressing the waiter who's been patiently waiting for your order. "And I'll take the café's specialty coffee as well, please." Dick almost coos at your manors.

The waiter smiles politely and nods, taking note of your order before hurriedly walking away to place the order. Meanwhile, Dick props his chin on his hand, a sly grin on his face. "Aren't you a polite one?" he teases you, eyes glinting with playful challenge.

Tim watches the interaction, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Have you had breakfast?” The question is thrown with an air of casualness, but you know he’ll give you that sad puppy face if you say no.

You sigh, nodding. “Yeah, my roommates big on the whole taking care of myself or whatever. He’s a hypocrite I tell you.” You cross your arms, leaning back.

Dick snickers at your comment about your roommate. "Sounds like a character," he remarks, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. A fond smile at the thought of Jason.

Tim, on the other hand, looks sympathetic. "I can relate," he says, shaking his head. "I've got a brother who's always nagging me about eating healthy and getting enough sleep."

A small huff escapes Dick's lips in response to Tim's words, though it's not loud enough for you to hear. His expression momentarily shifts, a pout crossing his features.

After a few minutes of quiet banter The waiter returns promptly with a serving plate stacked with various pastries. He places it on the table and then sets the drinks down in front of each of you. As the waiter walks away, Tim quickly grabs two of the pastries and places them on a plate in front of you. Pushing the white porcelain closer to you with his pointer and middle fingers.

Dick, meanwhile, takes a sip of his coffee, a pleasant hum leaving his lips. Watching the interaction fondly.

"Go on," Tim encourages, nudging the plate slightly towards you. "Make sure to eat." His gaze is firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

You glance down at the pastry, a feeling of warmth spreading through you at Tim's thoughtfulness. Before you can thank him, Dick interjects, a playful smirk on his face.

"Aww, look at that. Timbo's acting all chivalrous, ain't he?" he teases, elbowing Tim lightly in the side. Tim rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Can it, Dickhead," Tim mutters with no real heat behind his words, shoving Dick's hand off his shoulder. But it's hard to stay mad at Dick, especially when he has that charming smirk plastered on his face. He playfully ruffles Tim's hair, earning him a glare in return.

Dick just laughs, unfazed by Tim's retort. "Oh, don't be like that," he replies, a teasing grin plastered across his face.

Sensing the brewing banter, you take a sip of your milkshake, your attention flickering between the two.

Tim attempts to smooth his hair back into place, his gaze shifting to you. "Don't mind him," he says with another eye roll. "Dick's sense of humor never matured past the age of twelve."

Dick feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Hey, I'll have you know my sense of humor is top-notch," he retorts, a playful glint in his eyes.

Tim snorts, taking another sip of his coffee to suppress a laugh. "Sure it is," he says dryly. "If by top-notch you mean 'borderline obnoxious.'"

You can't help but chuckle at their banter, hiding your smile behind your milkshake.

The sound drawing the attention of the Wayne brothers as they turn their gazes to you. They watch you for a moment, their expressions softening at the sound of your laughter.

Dick's smirk widens as he observes your reaction, his gaze fixated on you. "Ah, there it is," he murmurs, his voice low and soft.

Tim, too, can't help but smile quietly as he watches you, his expression warm. There's an almost admiring look in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side, studying you closely.

You pick up the chocolate croissant, bringing it to your lips the pausing mid-bite as they’ve turned their attention to you.

Dick's eyes remain locked on you, watching as you pause in mid-bite. He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand once more, a playful glint in his eyes. Something dark hidden beneath the ocean swirls of his irises.

Tim, too, observes you closely, his gaze lingering on your face. There's an intensity in his gaze that was absent earlier; it's calculating, almost. A subtle hint of possessiveness in the depth of his eyes. He seems to be analyzing your every expression with a keen interest, as if trying to uncover some hidden secret. He lifts the coffee to his lips, taking a long sip and averting his attention elsewhere.

"You gonna eat that or just stare at it?" Dick teases, gesturing towards the croissant you hold in your hand. His tone is light, but the intensity in his gaze belies the lightheartedness of his words. It’s a subtle warning to eat.

You roll your eyes at the gesture, taking a bite into the pastry. It’s warm, freshly baked. The chocolate drizzled over the top as well as placed inside. It practically melts into your mouth. You bring a hand up to cover your mouth as you eat, hiding the grin. “It’s alright.” You lie through your teeth. It’s amazing. But you wouldn’t give the overprotective guys the satisfaction.

Dick snickers, seeing right through your lie. "Just alright, huh?" he says, feigning disbelief. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tim, a knowing glint in his eyes, takes another sip of his coffee. He can tell you're enjoying the croissant, as evidenced by the gleam of chocolate around your lips. But he decides to play along, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe you're just too picky," he comments. They’ll get you a life time supply of these once the plan succeeds.

You hiss, putting the half eaten pastry down onto the plate and elbowing his side. Unaware of the chocolate on your face which makes it hard for them to take you seriously. “I am not picky.” You huff, crossing your arms.

Dick suppresses a laugh as he watches you pout, unable to resist teasing you further. He reaches forward, swiping a finger across your cheek to collect a bit of chocolate that's been left behind.

"Oh really?" he says, a smirk on his face. He uses a napkin to wipe off his finger. His eyes never leave your face as he does so.

Tim, sitting to your side, watches the exchange. There's a hint of amusement in his eyes, but he keeps his composure.

You pause, an embarrassed flush coming over your face. How long had that been there?

"You've got a little something right here," Dick says, tapping the corner of his own mouth, indicating where the chocolate is located.

Tim can't help but smirk at Dick's comment, his eyes flickering to your mouth and then back up to your eyes again. He takes another sip of his coffee, leaning back in his seat.

You brush a hand over your face, wiping away the excess chocolate. Though the movement only seems to smear it further.

Dick chuckles, unable to contain his amusement. His eyes roam over your face, taking immense pleasure in the flustered state you're in.

"Here, let me help," he offers, grabbing a napkin from the table. He reaches out, gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head towards him. With a gentle touch, he slowly wipes away the residual chocolate with the napkin.

You felt more embarrassed than anything, resting your head against the table afterwards. Feeling like you just wanted to evaporate into the air.

Dick laughs, his amusement clearly evident as you hide your face against the table. He pats your head affectionately, his touch gentle.

Tim watches you, his expression more subdued than Dick's. However, there's a hint of a smile on his lips, a gleam in his eyes that betrays his amusement.

Dick relaxes in the cafe’s empty booth, leaning back slightly as he glances around the room with a touch of impatience. His foot taps rhythmically against the floor, a subtle sign of his restless energy. His grip on his phone tightens as his eyes remain fixed on the screen, watching the blinking red dot on the small map come closer and closer. His fingers tense around the phone's edges, his impatience growing with every passing moment.

As the blinking red dot reaches its destination within the bakery, Dick places his phone face down on the table and casually pretends to check over the menu’s items, feigning indifference despite his growing restlessness. He tries to act nonchalant, as if his mind isn’t anxiously anticipating your arrival.

Dick senses the familiar presence approaching, the shadows in the cafe becoming longer and stretching over his table. He manages to hide his growing excitement, attempting to feign nonchalance, but his giddiness is almost palpable. He looks up from the menu he was pretending to study, his smile betraying him.

He quickly rises from his seat, his body brimming with anticipation. Without hesitation, he opens his arms wide, the eagerness evident on his face as he waits for their baby birds embrace. Practically preening when you bury your face in his chest. He’s sure you can hear his heart going a mile a minute. You fit so snugly in his arms, like you were made to be there. His baby sibling.

He meets Tim’s crazed eyes, a dark grin crossing both of their features. He mouths slowly. ‘All good?’

His younger brother nods, fishing out his phone from his pocket to display the vitals silently. You were good, healthy. He hastily hides his phone once you pull away.

Dick almost lets out a whine. Why don’t you want to stay in his arms, baby bird? Can’t you tell you’re made to be there? Dick struggles to release you from his embrace, his arms reluctantly letting go as he allows you to squeeze yourself into the booth beside him. He manages to put some distance between you and himself begrudgingly, his eyes flickering to your face for a brief moment before shifting his attention to Tim.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He gazes at you with a soft smile on his face, resting his head on his palm as his thumb absently runs over the carved lines on the tabletop. Although he tries to hide it, there's a hint of a pout forming on his lips, clearly displeased by the fact that you've moved away from him. However, he brightens when you don't pull away and instead lean into him when his knee pushes gently against yours in a silent display of affection. Enjoying the proximity.

A comfortable silence runs over the table, a possessive smile on the brother’s faces as they watch you intently. Sitting there so perfectly, your nails picking at a screw on the bottom of your laptop. He shifts closer once you clear your throat, his baby blue eyes honing in on your form. His pupils dilated.

He lets out a content sigh at the sound of your voice. So melodic, it reels him in.

"You both are staring at me like you have something to say," Dick observes you intently, noticing the way you begin to pick at your sweater instead. He can see the anxious habit forming, and silently wishes he could reach out and gently grab your hands to stop you. However, he resists the impulse and simply watches you, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and affection. He’ll help you with that destructive habit once you’re home, he promises, little bird.

Dick's gaze turns to Tim, a silent silent exchange taking place between the brothers. Dick raises a questioning eyebrow, his grin widening when Tim responds with a subtle nod. Their expressions betraying their shared excitement.

"Ah, sorry about that. Got a bit lost in thoughts." Dick speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of humor. Fondness evident.

“Right...”

Dick's eyes narrow as you sit up, shifting your position and inadvertently pulling your knee away from him. A wave of disappointment washes over him, and he has to bite back the urge to command you to put your knee back where it was. He tries to mask his frustration, his expression remaining neutral, but a subtle tension is evident in his body language. “Oh, sorry. You guys know each other right? I’m sure Timmy-boy has at least one of your classes?”

Dick relaxes a little at the sound of your voice, he grins at Tim's nickname, clearly amused by it. However, his laughter is abruptly cut off as he catches the disapproving look his brother gives him. Immediately sensing the tension, he composes himself, his grin quickly turning into a more subdued smirk. “Yeah,” Dick looks you over calculatingly for a moment, his eyes studying you intently as he tries to choose his words carefully. He pauses for a moment before speaking up, his voice measured and deliberate. “We’re acquainted.”

Dick's attempts to maintain a serious expression falter as Tim shoots him another pointed look and kicks his shin. He can't help but grin, finding his brother's disapproving glances more amusing than anything. He rubs his leg, the younger vigilante having not held back.

“Are you hungry?” His brother questioned, his gaze shifting back to you. You have to be hungry, Dick thought. Jason said you had eaten nearly five hours ago. They can’t let their little bird starve!

When you shrug their eyes narrow, the drumming of your fingers catching their attention. “I could eat.” Your voice broke the silence.

Dick coos. It’s okay, you don’t have to downplay how much you need food. We’ll look after you.

"What do you feel like eating?" Dick's voice comes out slightly breathless as he speaks, his words spoken with conviction. He knows your power over them, and he would do just about anything for you within reason. The cafe is no exception, and he knows that they would probably buy the place in a heartbeat if you so much as hinted at wanting it.

Dick glances at you as you silently scan the menu, his eyes locking onto Tim's right after. A silent conversation takes place between the brothers, their expressions communicating silently what their words can't. Tim then shifts his attention towards the waiter, gesturing for them to come over, while you remain focused on the menu options in front of you.

The waiter, ever observant, takes this as a cue to approach the table. "What can I get you guys?" he asks, his voice cheerful.

They wanted to cut the waiters throat out for the way you flinch at his unexpected presence. Too engrossed in the pictures on the menu to notice the world around you. Snapped out of it by his feigned cheerfulness. You probably hadn’t even noticed your own reaction, seeing how you instantly smiled up at him after.

You needed their protection, that was abundantly clear.

He clocks his head, not sparing the waiter a second glance. "We'll have some coffee and pastries to start," his gaze flickers back to your fingers tapping against the table.

"Make that two coffees and a basket of assorted pastries." Tim adds.

"Ah, I think I'll go for the milkshake of the day," you add, addressing the waiter. "And I'll take the café's specialty coffee as well, please." Dick has to hold back his coos at your manors. So polite.

He faintly hears the waiter’s descending steps. Dick props his chin back on his hand, a sly grin on his face. "Aren't you a polite one?" he teases you, eyes glinting. He’ll reward you for that later.

Tim watches the interaction, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Have you had breakfast?” The question is thrown with an air of casualness. As if the brothers weren’t already informed.

“Yeah, my roommates big on the whole taking care of myself or whatever. He’s a hypocrite I tell you.” You cross your arms, the childish action making Grayson want to squish your cheeks and hold you close. His baby bird is so cute, complaining about big brother. Not that you were aware that they were yet.

"Sounds like a character," He grins sharply, his eyes softened at the thought of Jason.

"I can relate," Dick’s attention is drawn to Tim as he speaks, the other boy shaking his head. "I've got a brother who's always nagging me about eating healthy and getting enough sleep."

He nearly squabbles. He does not nag. He huffs, crossing his arms at Tim’s words. A pout tugging at his bottom lip.

The rest of the conversation goes like a blur to Dick, coming so naturally to him, as if he was simply bantering with his family. Which he was. No one could tell him otherwise.

His attention is suddenly pulled back to reality as he notices the chocolate smeared across your face childishly, like a fussy child. You feel Dick's thumb gently wipe at your face, clearing away the smeared chocolate. There's something almost instinctual about his gesture, as if it comes naturally to him, like he's done it countless times before.

Dick chuckles as he responds to your surprise, a smirk dancing on his lips. He dabs at his finger with a napkin, his eyes fixed intently on your face as he cleans off the chocolate smudges. There's a hint of playfulness in his gaze.

Dick leans forward slightly, his gaze still fixated intently on your face. He notices the way your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and his eyes gleam with amusement. A delighted smirk spreads across his face, his eyes never leaving yours as he observes your flustered state. There's no denying it - you were the epitome of cuteness as a younger sibling. Your chaotic charm and antics had Dick and Tim wrapped around your little finger, and the two brothers couldn't help but adore every single moment.

"You've got a little something right here," Dick says, tapping the corner of his own mouth.

Tim couldn’t help but smirk at Dick's comment, his eyes flickering to your mouth and then back up to your eyes again. He takes another sip of his coffee, leaning back in his seat.

Their gazes softening further as you attempt to rid your face of the chocolate only to smudge it further.

"Here, let me help," he offers, grabbing a napkin from the table. He reaches out, gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your up head towards him. It’s hard to think straight with you looking up at him with that pout and flushed cheeks. Like a little kid clinging to their old brother after having a nightmare. How he wishes he had met you as a kid. He slowly wipes away the residual chocolate with the napkin. Hesitantly to let go.

The brothers let out hearty laughter at the sight of you burrowing your head into the table. They could practically see you trying to will yourself to disappear. Tim grins fondly, shuffling closer. Dicks own hand moving out to pay your head softly. Their touch affectionate and gentle. They wanted to see you like this all the time.

No use of y/n, no use of any descriptive features for the reader, no gender mentioned.

I tried to make the POV’s show the difference in how they interpret things. For example, where you may perceive Tim’s expression as a smile, Dick sees it as something dark. You pay more attention to Tim so he’s mentioned more, Dick pays more attention to you so you’re mentioned more.

Tim Drake is mentioned as ‘Mr Wayne’ because I’d assume that he’d be judged based on his family rather than his actual name.

Should I make a tag list? Would anyone even want to be put on a tag list for this?

Comments and questions are really appreciated!

[happy74827]

Burning Bridges

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Upon an incident that was out of your control, Dexter comes to the realization that it wasn't just a coincidence.

WC: 1951

Category: Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort

I forgot how much I missed this show (him), so I decided to write another. It's been so long since I last wrote for him that I actually see the difference in my writing. It's wack.

『••✎••』

Dexter was many things… a brother, a son, a pro bowler, a serial killer… but what he lacked was being a good friend.

He didn't understand friendship or its value. It was something that he simply couldn't grasp. Sure, he was able to fake it well enough in order to make sure that people liked him and didn't find him too creepy or strange, but there was never any real emotional connection. In his mind, everyone was either someone he needed or someone he didn't need, and he would treat them accordingly. The only exceptions to this rule were his sister, Debra, and you.

The two of you had met back in college, having been assigned to be each other's partners for a group project. It was a poetry class and a course that Dexter hadn't really wanted to take, but a general education requirement and the promise of an easy A convinced him to at least show-up and suffer through it. Well, for a guy who had to fake every single aspect of his personality in order to fit in with society, it turned out that poetry didn’t come quite as easily as he thought it would.

He had always found the art form to be rather silly, with all the emphasis on metaphors and flowery language. There was no purpose or goal other than to be creative and artsy, and it bored him to no end. The first time you had sat down with him to discuss the project, you could tell how much he didn't want to be there, and the look of complete disinterest on his face as he tried to figure out what your poem meant was the most hilarious thing that you had seen in a while. You couldn't help but laugh, the sound of which made him sit up and give you a quizzical look.

"What?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, confused.

"Nothing," you replied, still giggling. "It's just that I can tell that you don't like poetry."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you haven't said a word; you're just sitting there, staring off into space and twirling your pencil between your fingers," you told him, and he glanced down at the utensil as if he didn't realize that he was doing that.

"Oh. Sorry, I guess," he apologized, his tone making it clear that he was actually a little annoyed at having been called out on his inattentiveness.

"That's okay. I like poetry, so I'll be happy to do most of the work," you offered, smiling sweetly, and his eyebrows raised.

And that you did. In fact, you loved it so much that you majored in English and planned on getting your Masters, while Dexter got his degree in criminology. It was a nice trade-off because while he struggled in poetry, getting down into the debts of his feelings that were nonexistent, you struggled with chemistry, unable to wrap your head around the subject no matter how hard you tried.

So, the two of you had a mutually beneficial agreement. You did all the work for the poetry class, and in exchange, he tutored you in chemistry and made sure that you got a decent grade. Once the class was over and done with, the two of you stayed friends, though you had very little in common. Dexter had no interest in books, and you had no interest in criminology. He was a loner, and you had plenty of friends. You were a romantic, and he was completely unromantic. He didn't even have a girlfriend, and you had been in three different relationships over the course of the two years that you had known him.

Still, the two of you got along well enough. You were one of the only people that Dexter could actually stand for more than five minutes, and he was the same to you. So you went out to the bar sometimes, hung out with his sister, and did your best to keep him company while also doing your best to try to set him up on dates, hoping that one of these days, he'd actually find someone. It eventually did work out when you found him Rita, but as of right now, she had broken up with him, and he was back to being a lonely bachelor which it didn't bother him much until now.

You were in the hospital, your head wrapped and bandaged like a mummy. You were apparently attacked outside the grocery store, and if it wasn’t for the small instructions he had given you for self-defense, you most likely wouldn’t have survived.

At first, Dexter didn’t think of it as anything important in terms of his line of work. He believed it to be a coincidence, a random crime in the night. But it turned into something more the night he decided to visit with some cake.

“How’s the head?” He asked as he came inside, seeing you propped up reading. Of course, you were reading.

You shrugged. “Like I’m wearing a sweater hat, but it doesn't hurt, so there's that." You paused, setting down your book and glancing at him. "I’m still salty about my groceries. Almost two hundred dollars I spent on that stuff. Gone. Wasted. Poof."

Dexter had to chuckle a bit. "Hey, I can't do much about the food, but I brought you something," he said, revealing the white box.

"Is it chocolate? If it is, I love you," you joked.

"No, it's just vanilla. But, here."

He opened the lid and showed you, and you immediately lit up.

"Awww, Dexter! You are the best friend ever," you gushed, giving him a warm smile.

He smiled back. "It's the least I could do."

He was cutting it up for you when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. You didn’t seem to notice, but out in the hall, a shadow passed by the window. His body went on alert, eyes flickering towards the door. He couldn’t see much, but he could make out an elderly man with gray hair and a beard.

Dexter's face remained unchanged, though his body language betrayed him as he sat the cake knife down. He knew that look. That look in a man's eyes when he was looking at prey. This was a predator.

"Hey, uh, what was that description again? Of the man who attacked you," Dexter asked, his tone a bit distracted.

"You mean Santa Claus on drugs? That pretty much sums it up. Why?" You looked up, confused.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing."

But it was something. The man had apparently come back to finish the job, and Dexter's jaw clenched at the thought. He was already planning his death in his mind. It wouldn’t be pretty. He gave you a piece of cake, swearing that he’d be back soon before going after the man. He stopped at the lobby momentarily, informing Angel to keep an eye on you, which, of course, the cop complied with.

Angel was a good cop. He was loyal, smart, and a damn good shot. But there was one thing that made him a great cop. He cared about his city and the people in it. He would protect the innocent no matter the cost, especially when it came down to those he was closest to. He was the kind of guy who would risk his life without a second thought if it meant saving others.

This is why Dexter liked Angel and why he was the only one that he trusted with this job.

Finding the man was extremely easy on his part. Dexter already knew what the guy’s plan was, so he stuck around outside the parking lot, watching the shadows. After a few minutes, the man appeared, heading towards the entrance once again.

He never got that far.

A hand was clamped over his mouth while the other dragged him away from the double doors and towards the side of the building. Dexter didn’t pull out his knife, though, only resorting to his arms as he applied pressure against his throat. The man fought, trying to break free, but he didn't get the chance. Dexter didn’t kill him, no, not yet, but his arm was still strong, and he had no plans to let go.

“Listen closely. If you so much as look the wrong way, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat. Understand? Nod if you do," he threatened, his voice calm and even. The man nodded, terrified, his eyes wide.

"Good," Dexter replied, “Why are you here?"

The man was quiet, but he was breathing heavily, and his eyes were watering.

"Talk. That girl, why are you after her?"

"I’m not—”

"You attacked her, and now you came back to finish the job, did you not? Who sent you?"

The man was sweating; his face was flushed and red. Dexter was pressing too hard, and his victim was starting to lose air. He didn’t care.

"Who?" He repeated.

The man choked, unable to speak.

"Last chance. Who sent you? And don't lie to me."

The man didn’t answer, and Dexter tightened his hold. That finally did it. The man began to squirm violently, trying to break free, but it was too late. His face started to turn purple, and Dexter had to adjust his grip and pull him closer.

“It wasn’t personal! I had to! I didn't have a choice! It was just a job!" He gasped out, struggling for air. “I got paid to do it. I was just doing what I was told! Please, please, don't kill me."

"Who was it?"

"I—I don’t know. It was some lady. I met her at a bar. She didn’t give her name, but he wasn’t American. She gave me ten thousand dollars and told me that the job was to attack this chick in the parking lot and make it look like an attempted robbery. Said it had to be done in a couple of days. Listen, man, I didn't want to do it. But the money—"

"What did she look like?" Dexter cut in.

"Dark hair. Young. I don't know! I don't know, I swear. She wore sunglasses the whole time. Please, don’t kill me. Please."

Suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. The Dark Passenger was roaring, the realization washing over him like cold water.

Lila.

Everything made sense now. The way she had suddenly showed up out of nowhere, the incident outside the bowling alley, her sudden interest in you. It all made sense. She was behind it. She had done it.

Dexter wanted to snap the man's neck. He wanted to rip his throat out. He wanted to take his knife and stab him over and over again, to punish him for what he had done to you, but he refrained. He had the answers he needed, and the cameras around were still running.

He dropped him and watched him collapse, gasping for air. He didn't move, too scared and in shock to do so. Dexter didn’t say a word; his anger was silent, but it was boiling beneath his skin.

He was going to kill her. He was going to hunt her down and end her, and there was no place on Earth where she could hide.

“You ever, and I mean ever, come near her again; I will tear out your spine and make you choke on it. Understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

Dexter didn’t say anything else; he simply walked off, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had a lot to think about.

[leyiorr]

☆ HYPEHOUSE INMATES!

⟢ itadori yn. a business and management major. she has three younger brothers who she adores and spends a lot of time with. choso is her only biological sibling, but after their mother married jin itadori, their last names changed from kamo to itadori and they gained two new brothers. her mother often asks forces her to help out in the bakery she owns, and she has plans for her daughter to take over it in the future, hence yn's major. lives with her two brothers choso and ryomen in a house that's closer to their uni, though they come back to visit during the holidays.

⟢ utahime iori. a criminology major. she lives with yuki in a shared apartment, and yn often crashes there if she can't be bothered to go home. hime loves anything to do with crime docs and horror movies; thankfully her two best friends are more than happy to indulge. has never been in love or in a relationship, and is thus very bitter to anyone who is in a happy relationship.

⟢ tsukumo yuki. a biochemistry major. she possibly, maybe, totally regrets her major just because she loses sleep with the amount of assignments her professor gives her. lives with hime; likes to draw in her spare time. yn is her favourite person to drink with because they're both heavyweights and hold very competitive drinking competitions.

⟢ itadori ryomen. a history major. surprising, actually, but he enjoys learning about past events. otherwise known as sukuna. upholds the tradition of going to the gym every saturday morning as he did with yuji back home and expects him to do the same (he does). though he doesn't show it outwardly, he's very grateful to his siblings for never judging his short fuse and sharp tongue, they love him all the same. lives with yn and choso, which is both the worst and best decision he's ever made. shows his love by being protective.

⟢ itadori choso. a physics major, but is simply getting his qualifications so he can open a tattoo parlour, in which yuji promises to be his first client. he's the second youngest and loves his siblings wholeheartedly; he's known for being unable to say no to anything they ask of him. yn is very important to him not only as his biological sister, but also as a constant support system he had throughout their mother's last awful relationship. in the process of convincing his siblings to get matching tattoos with him. lives with yn and ryomen.

⟢ itadori yuji. in his final year of college. he is the youngest of his siblings and is very attached to them. has a passion for basketball that he hopes will get get him a scholarship into the same uni as his siblings so he can live with them. he cried when each of his siblings left home to be closer to uni. the troublemaker of the family, and his partner in crime is usually yn. makes sure to text his siblings daily, whenever he gets the chance, and loves that they're always willing to drop everything to come and see one of his matches.

notes: all the images were sourced from pinterest and are just used for the aesthetics!

taglist: @cccccccccccleo ; @jaguarthecat ; @soobin1437 ; @idkmanshrugg ; @ourfinalisation ; @shokosbunny ; @lalalasillybilly3000 ; @ichcocat ; @gojosatorusprettyprincess ; @s3vtrue ; @chieeeeeee ; @aerareads ; @ursrin ; @ukiyoeangel ; @kaemaybae ; @cinnamxnangel ; @fangirlingtod3ath + if your user is in bold, i cannot tag you <3

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

Anchor Up to Me, Love

Pairing: Alpha!Leon Kennedy x Omega!Reader

Warning: College AU, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Breeding Kink, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But Leon saves the day, cause we love him, Possessive Leon S. Kennedy, Protective Leon S. Kennedy, Violence, just a lil, Leon S. Kennedy Being a Little Shit, Leon S. Kennedy is a tease. Leon S. Kennedy is a Sweetheart, I slept for 2 hours last night cause of this, bon appétit, bone apple teeth, Leon Kennedy loves eating pussy change my mind, Loss of Virginity, Unprotected Sex, POV First Person

Words: 3.3K

A/N: I wrote this in one afternoon, it was not beta'd at all. I pulled this STRAIGHT out of my ass. THIS IS NSFW. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, PLEASE GO AWAY. Title from Anchor by Novo Amor.

The campus was buzzing with hyper energy, the students littering the quad as the weather finally warmed up enough for them to comfortably rest on the green grass. My sneakers slap against the concrete as I take a deep breath in, the fresh air mingling with the student’s scents and I can’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness at the sight of the couples sprawled across the area.

I have spent half my life terrified of everyone - especially alphas - since my father’s warning when I presented. “You need to be careful, pup. Alpha’s only want one thing. You don’t want to end up like your mother - God rest her soul.” The fear it caused has definitely contributed to my self induced isolation. The scent blockers stir in my stomach, and I place a hand over my gut softly as I continue to head toward the library. I couldn’t afford the textbook, and thankfully the library had a cheap copy, but it can only be used in the library. I huff in annoyance as I mount the stairs. I step into the air conditioned building, skin prickling beneath my tee shirt. Should have worn a sweater.

The library is huge, 3 floors of walls lined with books, and the loner in me cries out in joy at seeing how deserted the stacks are. Having memorized the way already, I walk toward where they keep the textbooks and I run my fingers across the bindings until I come across where my textbook should be. I glance around to see if it was maybe misplaced before I head to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for the Understanding Earth textbook for Professor Fieldman’s class?” I ask, and the woman behind the counter looks up with a small smile.

“Oh, that’s a popular one today. There’s a young man in blue who asked for it maybe 10 minutes ago. He should be in one of the study rooms, I think Room C.” The one with the windows. I nod, glancing down at my phone for the time. That paper is due in 12 hours. I’ll have to suck it up and ask if he’s willing to share. I head up the stairs, the hushed whispers of students giggling on the second floor catches my attention as I rub my fingers over my arms to warm them. The straps of my backpack are becoming more and more noticeable the longer the bag rests on my shoulders, and the girls’ voices become audible. “Wasn’t he adorable? He’s in my criminology class. His scent is intoxicating.” I scoff at their words. I walk toward the closed oak door before lightly rapping my knuckles on the varnished surface, and I crack it open as I hear a voice speak. Please be a beta. Please be a beta. Please be a beta.

“Yeah?” The door opens a bit more and that’s when I see him, strong hands hovering over the keys of his laptop, bright blue eyes trained on me as I stand in the doorway, my cheeks probably red from embarrassment.

“Hi,” I say before introducing myself with my name. “I know this is probably weird, but Professor Fieldman assigned a paper due tonight and I need some sources. Would you mind if I shared the textbook with you?” I ask, definitely speaking too fast as the anxiety crawls up my throat, tasting an awful lot like bile. He chuckles and that’s when his scent hits my nose. Those girls weren’t lying. He smells like pine and citrus, which you wouldn’t normally assume would mix, but something about the way it mingles as it enters my nose, my whole body flushes,, and I wonder if it’s because of him being an alpha or just him in general.

“I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy. And no, I don’t mind at all,” he says kindly, scooting his chair over a bit and pushing the textbook closer to the chair next to him. I should not sit next to him. His scent is already almost overwhelming and I’ve been in here for all of 1 minute. I find myself walking forward as I hear the door close behind me and I sit down in the black mesh swivel chair next to Leon. He gives me a small smile before I realize he probably thinks I’m a beta. My scent blockers should be enough. When is my heat due again? I vaguely wonder as I slip my backpack onto the floor next to me and pull out my laptop, opening the document to this stupid paper. “The paper on your favorite mineral and its multitude of uses?” He asks, glancing at my screen and I nervously huff out a laugh.

“Yup. I went with obsidian.” I say as I look back at him. His eyes are like two pools of blue, oceans in their entirety and threatening to drag me under and drown me.

“Good choice. Quartz,” he points his thumb at himself with a small smile as he runs his fingers through his hair before training his eyes on his paper. We sit in comfortable silence for about 10 minutes before the first cramp shoots through my gut. I press a hand to the muscle, hoping pressure will relieve the ache before it increases. I tense up as I groan, dropping my head to the cool desk as my skin feels like it’s on fire. “Are you okay?” He asks, placing a hand on my back, and the warmth of his hand makes me release a very different kind of groan, which I try to muffle by clamping my teeth down on my bottom lip, so hard I may be drawing blood. Heat washes over me and I vaguely register that I am absolutely going into heat right here, next to this alpha I just met. I reach down for my phone to check, and that’s when I realize that I am a week early for my heat.

“I’m fine, I just need to go, I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I stand quickly, slamming my laptop closed much harder than I should before practically throwing it into my backpack, slinging the fabric over my shoulders before I feel a hand lightly wrap around my wrist, not restraining me, just… catching my attention.

“I’m sorry, I can go if you need the-” Leon trails off, his voice fading into silence as his eyes widen. “You’re an omega?” He asks, and I know my scent blockers aren’t very effective anymore. Not against a sudden onset of heat in the middle of the day. I nod smally, feeling tiny compared to this alpha, despite him still sitting down in his own chair. The place where his skin meets mine on my wrist tingles, sending sparks up and down my arm as I am suddenly extremely grateful that I didn’t wrap myself in a sweatshirt. I’d be sweating through it by now.

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, taking a deep breath while facing away from me, as if he’s trying to compose himself before he speaks again. “Sorry, you’re just… You smell amazing…” He practically rasps, voice dropping to a painfully attractive octave. “I thought you were a beta when you walked in. You shouldn’t be out this close to your heat,” he mumbles, still unable to meet my eyes.

“I’m not due for a week. Trust me, I intend to go home,” I explain, and he nods as he lets go of my wrist. Without another word, I walk briskly to the door. I don’t breathe until I’m out in the fresh air, trying to wash Leon’s scent from my nose before I begin to practically sprint toward the parking lot where my car is. I’m almost there when I hear whistles behind me. Oh no.

“Where you going, pretty ‘mega?” My hands shake violently, slick pouring into the center of my panties due to the incoming heat, and I hear several sets of footsteps behind me. There are at least 3 of them. A cold hand lands on my shoulder and I yelp, dropping my keys to the tarmac as tears brim in my eyes. The alpha spins me around as his friends snigger behind him and his hard body presses me against the nearest vehicle, hands roaming over my jean covered thighs as the hot tears pour down my cheeks. His scent is vile, aggression and sweat wafting off of him in waves, and his nose runs along the column of my throat. “You smell so good, baby. How about you let me take care of your little problem?” His voice is gravely and harsh, tongue licking up my neck to taste my sweat. “God, I’m gonna knot you so-”

“Get the fuck off of her.” A voice says, and it takes my mind only moments to realize it’s Leon.

“Fuck off, finder’s keepers.” I squeeze my eyes closed so tightly that harsh colors flash across my darkened vision, and my hands push against his cotton tee shirt pointlessly.

“Then how about this?” The weight is gone, ripped from my body and I open my eyes to see that Leon has physically ripped the guy off of me and I watch as his body collides with the vehicle next to us, the white metal slightly dented from where his head hit before Leon’s fists tighten in his shirt, pressing him into the truck. “Touch my omega again, and you won’t be leaving unless it’s in a body bag.” Leon lets him go and we both watch as the alpha runs away, followed by his lackeys. If he had a tail, it’d be between his legs.

I sink to the ground, knees pressed to my chest and my hands press into the dark concrete. “Holy…”

“Are you okay?” Leon is there, crouching at my level. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I shake my head, hands twitching, begging me to reach out and touch him and I can’t stop them as one lands on his shoulder.

“I just want to feel safe... Can you hold me?” I whisper, and it’s only seconds before his palms skim along my bare arms. Feeling like I’ve been shocked with straight electricity, my gasp escapes as I shift to press my nose into his shirt, the blue cotton/spandex mix beneath my lips driving me up a wall and rushing more slick into the gusset of my panties.

“Of course.” His words are soft, fingers carding through my hair in soothing motions. His lips are soft as they press to my temple and I clutch his shirt tightly in my fists. “What do you need?” He asks, making sure to address me by my name.

“You, alpha…” I whisper, desperation in my tone. “Please…”

“Fuck…” Leon mumbles, nodding and accidentally brushing his nose through my hair, and he groans. “Okay, come on.”

The kisses are all tongues and teeth, lips connected as teeth nibble at the already plump flesh as the door opens. Thank god he has an apartment, cause Dad would never let me bring home an alpha for him to fuck me through my heat. The room smells overwhelmingly like him, air fresheners be damned. Palms on hips, slipping into the waistband of denim, untucking shirts, fingers dancing across skin and I tug on the hem of his light blue shirt, silently pleading for it to come off.

“Need something, sweet girl?” He chuckles, a teasing edge to his voice. A whine slips from my lips into his mouth and he pulls back to press our noses together, foreheads in contact as he looks into my eyes. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Off, please, Leon.” Well, he said words. I managed that. He peels the fabric from his chest, my eyes raking over the exposed muscles and soft flesh.

“Eyes up here, ‘mega.” His finger slides under my chin, bringing my eyes to his as our lips collide again before parting to remove my own tee shirt, dropping the cotton onto a pile on top of his. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers under his breath. Before I can process the movements, my feet are off the ground before I feel the weight of the couch beneath me as he tugs on my waistband. “Can I taste you, ‘mega? Please?”

“Mhm,” I hum through my bitten lip, teeth pressing into the tender flesh as I help him remove my tight jeans, my panties flying somewhere in his apartment as he buries his mouth against my cunt without further question.

His name leaves my lips in a squeak as my fingers thread through his dark blonde locks, tugging the strands lightly as his tongue laps at my sex. Growls rumble from his chest as he sucks gently on my clit, the suction forcing gasps and moans from my mouth; I look down and find those intoxicating blue eyes locked on me, the wet sounds coming from my center absolutely lewd. How do people live without this?

“Do you want my knot?” The question should require more thought. More attention.

“Yes. Please alpha, need it.” Leon stands, lips and chin coated with my shiny slick, and I watch as he licks the fluid off his lips before using his fingers to wipe off the remainder before sucking them into his mouth. Oh fuck, that’s hot. Nimble fingers undo the buttons of his jeans, tugging the zipper down tauntingly. “Leon.” His name comes out as a frustrated groan, and I’m gifted by the sweet sound of his light chuckle.

“Patience is a virtue, sweet girl.” I groan, a small laugh of my own filling the air as he comes up to kneel between my thighs, the skin of my ass pressing against his thighs as he leans forward to rub his cock along the length of my core. “Fucking shit, got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, ‘mega. Have you ever had a knot before?” He asks, rolling his hips so his tip bumps against my clit and I shake my head no. “Have you ever had sex with anyone?”

“No…” I admit, hands coming up to press against my hot cheeks.

“That’s okay, ‘mega. Do you want to keep going?” I peek between my fingers to see his soft smile. He is willing to stop for my comfort. “I can make you come in other ways if you don’t want-”

“I want your knot, please Leon.” My hips cant on their own accord, rubbing against him and his groan quickly dissolves into a huff of laughter, the sound filled with affection and gentleness.

“Okay, baby. We’ll take this slow, okay?” His head nudges at my opening, pressing the head in. The slight burn doesn’t last as my body adjusts to him, his arms caging me in on both sides of my head filling each of my senses with nothing but Leon, Leon, Leon. It continues like this, him pressing his length pressing in an inch or two before he pauses, huffy breaths puffing against my face as his peppers my face in soft kisses, my hands cupping his jaw and nape of his neck to feel some semblance of balance as he splits me open. I have nothing to compare it to, but he feels pretty big to me. Finally after a painstakingly long time, his hips press forward, flush with mine, and we both release shaky pants at the sensations.

“Please move,” I whimper as my hands shift to dig into the firm muscle of his shoulders, dull nails leaving crescents in his flesh.

“Anything for you, my sweet little omega.” The sweet words are quickly drowned out as he begins a leisurely pace, and I can feel the drag of his cock against my walls at every movement he makes. Kissing is futile by this point; We’re practically just breathing into each other’s mouths. His pace begins to steadily climb, faster and harder as his deft fingers rub soft circles over my bud, my head thrown back in response to the new sensation. “Does that feel good, sweet girl?” I nod before his earlier command rings through my ears.

“Yeah, Leon… Feels so good.”

“Such a perfect little omega, my omega.” The possessive tone sends a wave of heat straight down my spine as he continues. “That alpha touching you earlier… God I wanted to rip his throat out…” Hips slapping harder against mine as my moans grow in pitch, his name practically the only coherent sound that can be heard from my lips.

“Yours, alpha. All yours.” The blonde nuzzles into my neck, teeth grazing across my sweat slicked skin. He speaks, and it takes a nip to my ear to realize he’s speaking, my focus being tugged between the wet sounds of us meeting, his teeth on my neck, his scent in my nose, and his dirty words in my ears.

I want to claim you.

Fill you til it spills from that tight little pussy.

Want my babies, sweetheart?

Knock you up, god you’d look so pretty carrying my babies, ‘mega.

I nod blindly, barely unable to form words anymore as I’m so fucked out, so cockdrunk.

“Yes, please, fill me. Want it. Want you.” I groan in protest as he pulls out, emptiness bringing tears to my eyes before his gentle caress causes me to peel my eyes open to meet his. I’m greeted with a new sight. This isn’t just Leon.

This is my alpha.

“Present for me, ‘mega.” I nod, flipping over so my knees press into the scratchy fabric of the couch, arms resting on the arm rest as my body arches for him practically unconsciously. This is how it feels to find your mate. Callused hands trace the skin of my back, rubbing softly over the skin of my ass before his tip presses against my opening again, sliding in much easier than before, the wet slick aiding in creating a smooth glide and I practically feel him in my throat as he resumes a fast pace. Mumbles of curses fall into the air, sweaty skin pressing to my back, giving him access to whisper in my ear.

“I want you to come for me. I’ll give you my knot if you do.” The rough tips of his fingers return to my clit, rubbing much faster circles as the band in my gut pulls tight. “Come for me, omega.” That’s all it takes. I come with a yelp of his name, followed by a chorus of ‘alpha’s mixing with ‘Leon’. He growls, leaning forward to press the expanding ring of muscle into my pussy as his teeth sink into the flesh of my neck, locking us together in every sense of the words.

Gentle hands maneuver us to our sides, his warm body spooning as he grabs the blanket from the back of his couch to drape it over us as the sweat on our skin rapidly cools in the now chilly air of his living room.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, lips pressing soft kisses across my exposed flesh, and he sounds almost guilty. I nod sleepily, reaching back to run fingers through his hair with a chuckle. “Something funny, cutie?”

“I don’t think sharing the textbook is gonna be an issue anymore.” At my words, we both burst into a fit of giggles, panting breaths as I turn my head to press our lips together before I gasp, hands coming up to my mouth.

“What?”

“My dad is gonna kill us.” I admit with a nervous laugh.

“Nah. I meet parents like a champ.” His face practically drips with confidence and I chuckle.

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah. Look at my face. This is the face of ‘I’m absolutely not sleeping with your daughter’.” The laughter is uncontainable now.

Oh yeah. Definitely.

Tags:

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088

[mariasont]

maria. my girl penis is hard thinking about it. pretty please write intern reader x hotch. is it unethical? yesssss. is it hot? even more yes. please and thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

girl penis hard LMAO yes thank u ily u get me !!!! okay but we're on the same freaky wavelength, it's been heavy on my mind ... probably bc i was reflecting on my own internship last summer and the way it could've been exponentially better if my boss had been tall, hot, and brooding instead of, y'know, what it was. (delusion, yes, im aware). anyway thoughts (subject to change):

intern!reader being in her final semester (maybe masters track to age her up)

hotch helping with ur criminology assignments ????

attending ur capstone presentation ???? (prob would pretend it's coincidence)

giving another intern a passive aggressive professionalism speech bc he saw him flirt with u ONCE

staying up until 1am proofreading ur final paper bc he happened to be awake

keeping a mental list of every professor who was mean to you (for reasons)

im tweaking

[mrsstruggle]

The Beast of War - Chapter 1 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

This is the second part of the Shadow Wolf Series. Read The Lost Child First if you haven't!

Series Summary: In the aftermath of discovering her true identity and reuniting with her long-lost family, Y/N Stilinski finds herself adjusting to a new chapter of her life in Beacon Hills. With her brother and his friends in their senior year at High School, the town faces a fresh new threat. Y/N must navigate the complexities of her new life while confronting the looming threat that threatens to hurt her and the people she loves.

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Series Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Malia Tate (for now), Steve Rodgers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff

Words: 4.5k

Note: I am aware this is late! Please don't hate me!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Beast of War Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

---

“Are you going to keep secretly writing notes about me or ask me that question you’ve been too afraid to ask?” Y/N questions, her eyes never leaving the computer where she is tying in the new patient information. She is currently six hours into her ten-hour shift.

The boy sitting on the exam table freezes. His thumbs stop typing in his notes app as he looks at Y/N in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Mhm, sure. This is the fifth time you’ve been in this week, but you always seem to leave with nothing wrong. You either have hypochondria or you’ve kept coming back until I was your nurse.”

“Maybe the previous nurses and doctors didn’t do a good job and sent me home without properly helping me.” He picks at the bottom of his shirt in a nervous habit.

“The first time you came in was for pink eye, which has been noted that you didn’t have that. The second time was for a rash on your arm that you didn’t have.” Y/N says, looking over his previous visit notes, “The third time was a bump on your knee that turned out to be your kneecap. The fourth time was for a broken wrist that turned out to be broken or even sprained. Now you’re here due to flu-like symptoms, but your vitals are all good and there is currently no indication of you being sick.”

He forces out a fake cough, “Are you sure about that?”

Y/N turns to look at him, “I’m sure. You do know this is an emergency room, right? We have actual patients that need help, and we are short staffed. We don’t need some kid coming in trying to meet the Stark girl to get a good photo for his Instagram or whatever.”

“First of all, I’m not a kid—we’re the same age. Second, this isn’t for my Instagram, this is for my criminology class.” He says, dropping his act. He knew there was no point in tripling down on his lies.

“Well, your parents must have a lot of money or some really good insurance for you to be able to show up here five different times.”

“Something like that.”

Y/N looks him up and down, contemplating what she should do. She should just send him home, but she’s worried he will keep showing up until he gets what he wants. “The school year just started, why do you need to speak with me for your criminology class now?”

“Our first assignment is to do a paper on a famous crime. What’s more famous than the kidnapping of Tony Stark’s daughter?”

“I can think of several.” Y/N lets out a sigh, turning her body to fully face him, “You get five questions. If I don’t want to answer one, then it’s still going to count as one of your questions. After that, you have to leave and also promise not to come back here unless you have an actual emergency.”

He smiles in victory, turning his phone back on, “Do you mind if I record this so I can type out your answers later?”

“Sure.”

He opens the Voice Memos app on his phone, hits the record button, and holds it up between Y/N and himself. “Okay, first question, I am aware that the Avengers are currently relocating to a little outside of Beacon Hills, but have you been back to the other Avengers compound or the place you lived while with them?”

“No, I have not been back.”

He opens his mouth to ask her to elaborate but decides against it in case she counts that as a question. “Second question, what was your initial reaction when you discovered the truth?”

Y/N pauses as she thinks of an answer. For safety reasons, when they announced who she was, they changed the story of how it happened. Instead of telling the public she was re-kidnapped by Hydra, they told them about Bucky discovering the photo of her in Derek’s auto shop. It’s part of the reason some people like to show up there.

To the public’s knowledge, Hydra kidnapped her in hopes of raising her to be their soldier before she was able to escape on her own when they left her unattended outside. She was then found by a friend of Talia Stilinski and adopted by the Stilinski’s. To the public’s knowledge, Pepper didn’t hand her over to Hydra, she was never experimented on, she has no powers, and she didn’t know about the Avengers because she was too young—not because her memories were blocked.

“Mostly confusion. It’s not every day that someone shows up and claims to be your other family.  Now I’m just waiting for my biological family to do the same thing.” Y/N jokes.

“Third question, I know thanks to photos online that you spend some time with your brother, Peter, but have you spent any time with your sister, Morgan?”

Y/N debates on whether she wants to answer the question or not. The answer is no, she hasn’t spent any time with her sister, nor has she met her. She has nothing against Morgan, and she doesn’t blame her for Pepper’s actions, but she’s not sure if Morgan feels the same way. According to Peter, she is close with her mother, and her relationship with Tony is strained due to his shortcomings as a father to her.

Y/N is unsure if Morgan blames her for those shortcomings. It’s because of Tony’s obsession with finding her that caused him to neglect to be a good father for Morgan. It’s because of his resentment and anger toward Pepper’s nonchalance at Y/N being gone and her happiness toward the new baby that caused him to leave Pepper in the first place. It’s because of his grief of losing her that caused him to be unable to hold her until she was three years old.

It wasn’t until Morgan became a teenager did Tony start to step up as her father. He still isn’t perfect, and he can never make up for her younger years, but he is a lot better. Y/N adds Tony and Peter moving to Beacon Hills as another reason for Morgan to be justified to hate her.

Y/N knows that if Derek or Peter knew her thoughts about Morgan, they would tell her that she can’t blame herself for Tony’s mistakes. The choices Tony made were his own, not hers. Right now, she’s told Peter and Tony that the decision to meet, form a relationship, or anything is fully up to Morgan. She doesn’t want to cause any upheaval in Morgan’s life by inserting herself into it. If Morgan wants Y/N in her life, then she will be. If she doesn’t want anything to do with her, that’s okay. If she wants to meet her once and then never again, Y/N will do that too.

She does however know—thanks to Peter—that Morgan has decided that she prefers a private life away from the spotlight. While Peter attends all charity and public events in the Stark name, Morgan likes to stay home away from the crowds and paparazzi. She even keeps away from social media, so she doesn’t see anything about herself or her family.

“Um, I’m going to pass on that question. Morgan is a minor and prefers to stay out of the press. I don’t feel comfortable talking about whatever relationship I may or may not have with her. That’s private and it will stay that way.” Y/N answers. “You have two questions left.”

The guy huffs in frustration, “Fine. Fourth question, what are your thoughts on the theories and videos people were making after it was first brought to the public’s attention that you’re Y/N Stark?”

“I think the best word to describe I how felt, and still feel, about the things people were saying is disappointment. I’m disappointed in how people were, and still are, talking about my family. Honestly, I don’t really care what people say about me,” That’s a lie but she isn’t going to correct herself, “but I am disappointed in the way people talked about my family and the people I love.”

He nods his head in understanding, “Okay, last question, do you plan on changing your name back to Stark?”

No, she doesn’t. To be honest, it’s not even a thought that has crossed her mind. Scott asked her about it once when he saw her driver’s license and her only thought was that she hopes Derek proposes before Tony asks so she has an excuse that won’t hurt his feelings.

“Maybe, I guess we’ll see,” Y/N says instead. “Now, you can be on your way, and I’ll make sure to let the front desk know I refuse to see you if you come back with anything less than a life-threatening injury. Hopefully, that will keep you away and make you reconsider faking injuries and illnesses, and taking a room away from someone who actually needs it.”

He hits the stop button before turning off his phone and thanking her for answering his questions. He follows her out of the room and rushes out of the building to start working on his paper.

“What’s that about?” Melissa asks, watching the boy run out of the hospital.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sighs, “Just another person who wanted to interview me. I humored him for a few questions before I told him to not come back unless he’s dying.” She hands Melissa the boy’s file that’s in her hand. “Can you put a note in his file to let the others know I won’t see him if he comes back unless necessary?”

“That’s like the fourth one this month,” Melissa laughs in disbelief.

“What can I say, I’m famous,” Y/N winks at her. She and Melissa both know how much she hates the amount of attention she’s gotten since Kate exposed her. At one point in her life, she dreamed of being a star that everyone loved and was extremely famous. Now she wishes she could go back to being a nobody.

“When do you get off today?”

“I have about four hours left and then I’m out of here. I’ve got to go home a prepare myself for family dinner.” Y/N says, grabbing a new patient’s clipboard.

“I heard Stiles telling Scott about that. Is this the first dinner with all of you together?”

“Yep, and I’m already regretting it.”

Melissa lets out a laugh, “I’m sure it will be fine, and if it isn’t, you can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“I actually have the next two days off, so it will be a few days until I can give you a play-by-play.” With her working so many shifts to make up for her unintended long absence, she decided she needed two days to take a break. She’s exhausted and just wants to sleep in for a day.

“I can’t wait.”

---

“Hey! Where’s Stiles?” Y/N asks as she greets her dad. He’s the first one to arrive for dinner and she expected Stiles to be with him.

“He said that he could drive himself here, so I drove here straight after work.” The sheriff replies, pulling Y/N into a big hug.

“Okay, well, the others should be here soon if you want to go ahead and sit at the table, or I can turn the TV on, and you can sit in the living room and wait.”

“Where’s Derek?” He questions.

“In here!” Derek calls out from the kitchen.

The sheriff follows Y/N into the kitchen to see Derek checking on the rolls in the oven. “How are you, Derek?”

“I’m good, sir. How are you?” Derek asks, shaking Noah’s hand in greeting.

“Well, I’m still here so I guess I’m good.”

“Dad, why don’t you sit down, and I’ll help Derek finish up,” Y/N says, gesturing her hand toward their dining table. She moves to help Derek when there’s a knock on the front door. “Never mind.”

Walking toward the front door, she can hear two heartbeats on the other side. Opening the door, Tony and Peter are now standing in front of her, “Hey. Thanks for coming.” She hugs them both as they enter the loft.

They had a few conversations after taking down Kate and the hunters, but they are still a little awkward around each other. Y/N and Peter not so much, but she isn’t sure how to navigate a relationship with Tony. She doesn’t want to come off as she doesn’t care about him, but she also needs time to get used to having another dad.

With Peter it’s different. They’re close in age and they have the shared trauma from Hydra. She also feels like she talking to Stiles most of the time.

Y/N shuts the door behind them, she leads them into the kitchen. She pulls out her phone to text Stiles as they greet Derek and Noah. Tony and Peter sit down at the table, and she helps Derek bring the food over.

She looks down at her phone when it vibrates in her hand, “Stiles says he’s a bit caught up and that we should start without him. He’ll be a bit late.”

“What’s he caught up with?” Derek asks, sitting at the head of the table next to Noah and Y/N.

“He didn’t say.” She hopes it’s just something to do with school and not supernatural-related.

“So, Derek, when are you going to start working on your old house?” Peter asks Derek. Y/N has told him a bit about Derek’s plans, but she hasn’t told him everything.

“Um, soon. I’m waiting until after I hire someone to help out at the shop.” Derek replies. A few people have applied to the open position, but two of them ended up being Avengers fans who faked their resumes.

“You know who would probably be interested in the position, Barnes,” Tony says. “He would know what to do and he’s been looking for a job.”

Bucky hasn’t applied to any yet, but he has a few saved. He’d been thinking about taking a step back from the Avengers for a bit. After seeing the files and the videos of what happened to Y/N, they seemed to trigger some bad memories that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. He’s also had several nightmares about what they could’ve possibly done to Y/N if she wasn’t rescued when she was.

Derek shares a small look with Y/N as if to ask for help with what he should say, “Yeah, I could send him the listing to see if he’s interested, or it’s on our website too. At least, that’s what Lydia told me.”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders a little when Derek looks back at her. She’s not going to tell Derek whether he should hire him or not, or even give Bucky a chance. It’s Derek’s business so that decision is completely up to him.

Tony opens his mouth to say something else, but Y/N decides to interrupt him. She’s sure Tony is about to say something that he thinks will be helpful for Derek, and she knows Derek probably doesn’t care to hear it. Derek likes doing things his way and he doesn’t always love people injecting their opinions. “So, Dad, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

Y/N ignores the longing look in Tony’s eyes as she speaks to the other man who raised her.

“Uh, not to my knowledge, no.” Sheriff Stilinski doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The tone in her voice says he should, but he can’t think of anything.

“Really?” Y/N looks down at his left ring finger where his wedding ring used to be.

“Right, I may or may not have a date tomorrow night.”

“Good for you,” Derek says proudly, patting him on the back. They haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but he and the sheriff have grown closer after he started dating Y/N. It was rough at first, but they started to get along after the sheriff saw how well Derek took care of Y/N after she was attacked one night by a hunter. They bonded that night as Y/N rested. It’s why Derek knows that the sheriff going on a date is a big deal for him.

“Who’s it with?” Y/N asks with a teasing smile.

“It’s with someone you know,” Noah says, keeping it vague.

“Well, it’s not with Melissa because she would’ve told me. But you also didn’t tell me until now. Oh my god, you’re date’s with Melissa.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Deaton?”

“It’s with a woman.”

“Well, who else do I know that’s at an appropriate age for you to date?” Y/N mutters mostly to herself.

Tony and Peter silently eat their food and watch the conversation with amused smiles on their faces. They like seeing Y/N with a smile on her face. It’s a lot better than what she looked like when dealing with Hydra, the hunters, and Derek getting shot with an arrow.

“It’s Lydia’s mom,” Derek states.

Noah looks at him a little shocked. He didn’t expect Derek to guess correctly or even chime in. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t, but I do now.” Derek sends a triumph wink toward Y/N. She’s a little surprised he’s showing this side of himself with Tony and Peter here. With strangers, and sometimes the pack, he prefers to only let them see him as the tall, broody guy who doesn’t have many feelings.

“Just don’t tell Stiles. I haven’t told him I’m going on a date yet either.” He looks pointedly toward Y/N.

“Fine. My lips are sealed.” Y/N pretends to zip her lips for added effect. “What about you Peter? How’s MJ?”

The last time Peter had talked to her about MJ he wasn’t sure about the direction of their relationship. He loves her, but she’s still in college going for her master’s and he’s moving to Beacon Hills to be closer to his sister. They hadn’t decided if they wanted to try long-distance, have Peter go back and forth, or if they should call it quits for now.

Y/N told him that she shouldn’t be the reason his relationship with MJ should change. He just replies that he thought she was dead for several years and has missed out on being in her life, so he doesn’t plan on missing anymore.

“She’s good. We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do yet.” Peter replies, keeping his eyes down on the food on his plate to avoid looking at her.

“How has it been at the hospital? Are people still showing up and harassing you?” Tony asks, turning the attention away from Peter because he can feel he doesn’t want to talk about MJ.

“Yeah, we had a guy come in today asking me questions. It’s the fifth time he’s been in this week.” Y/N rolls her eyes in annoyance.

Tony frowns at her answer. He offered her a job to work with the Avengers in their medical wing to avoid the crazy press and fans and to spend more time with her, but she declined. She likes her job, and she likes that she can help her brother and friends by having her job.

“He’s been in five times?” Derek questions, his tone on the protective side.

“Yeah, he’s some college guy who wanted to interview me for some school project.”

“College guy?” “Didn’t the school year just start?” Derek and Peter question at the same time.

“He said it was for a paper for his criminology class. I let him ask me a few questions and then told the front desk not to let him back unless he’s dying.”

“What questions did he ask you?” Peter asks.

“Like ‘how did I react when I found out’ and ‘how did I feel about the videos people were making about me.’ I gave him five questions and only answered the ones I wanted to.” Y/N shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I only did it so that he’d stop wasting the staff’s time with his fake injuries and illnesses.”

“Has Stiles told you if he’s on his way?” Noah asks, changing the subject.

Y/N checks her phone and sees that Stiles hasn’t texted her, “Nope, but you know how he gets. He probably lost track of time, or he’s still caught up in whatever he’s doing.”

The table goes quiet, and everyone continues eating. No one knows what to say. This isn’t the first dinner they’ve had together, but they all typically end in silence. They do some polite small talk in the beginning—mostly everyone only speaking to Y/N—then finish their food in silence.

Derek takes his and Y/N’s empty plates to the sink when they're done. Y/N packs up some of the leftovers for her dad to take home.

“I should go. I’ve got a long shift in the morning.” Noah says. He pats Derek on the shoulder as a goodbye. He takes the leftovers from Y/N’s hands and follows her to the front door. “I’m assuming you’re going to show up to the station before my date tomorrow.”

“You know me so well.” Y/N smiles, hugging him goodbye. “See you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He closes the door behind himself as he leaves. Y/N turns to Tony and Peter who are ready to leave as well.

“Thanks for having us over. Dinner was good.” Tony says, putting his jacket back on that he took off while eating.

“Thanks for coming,” Y/N says, hugging them both goodbye. “My schedule is starting to slow down so I’ll let you know when I’m free for us to do something.” She notices Tony perk up at the thought of spending more time with her.

She waves at them goodbye before closing and locking the loft door. Sighing in exhaustion, she turns to see Derek standing and staring at her with a familiar lovestruck look in his eyes.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Y/N says, slowly walking over to him.

Derek wraps his arms around her when she reaches him, “Well, I’ve done the dishes, so how about we go upstairs, take a nice hot bath, and then get you to bed?”

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll get on one knee right now and ask you to marry me.”

“I prefer when you get on both knees.”

Y/N scoffs at his joke, “Just take me upstairs to a bath. If you treat me right, maybe the bath could turn into something more.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Derek says. Y/N lets out a laugh when Derek wraps his arms around her thighs and picks her up, carrying her upstairs.

---

Y/N slowly opens her eyes to see Derek asleep next to her. She smiles a little at how cute he looks when he’s asleep. Turning to the clock on her bedside table, she notices that it’s almost midnight. She’s only been asleep for a little over an hour and she’s not sure what woke her up. As she turns back to Derek, their bedroom door flies open.

“Y/N?” Stiles calls out from the doorway.

“What the fuck Stiles?” Y/N groans, clamping her eyes shut when he flicks on the bedroom light. She can feel Derek waking up next to her. “Why the fuck are you here so late?”

Stiles walks into the room and sits on the bed next to Y/N, “I feel like I’m going crazy and you’re the only one that believes me.” Y/N can smell that he reeks of anxiety.

“Go home,” Derek groans, wraps an arm around Y/N’s waist, and pulls her in closer to him, pushing his face into the back of her neck to try and hide from the light.

Y/N sighs, using her hands to block the ceiling light, “You can tell me what’s going on after you turn off the light.”

Stiles huffs in frustration but gets up and turns off the light before sitting back on the bed, “There’s something off about Theo but no one believes me. Scott thinks I should give him the benefit of the doubt and that, even if he is bad, everyone is savable.”

“Does some of this have to do with why you didn’t show up to dinner?”

“Sorry about that. Me and Liam followed him around to see what he’d do.”

“And what did he do?”

“We may have followed him to the bridge near where his sister was found.” Stiles mumbles, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie.

“He could’ve noticed you following him and put on a ‘good guy’ act,” Y/N says, trying to think of something that would support Stiles’ theory.

“Don’t encourage him,” Derek mumbles sleepily behind her.

“I broke into the administration office and found the transfer form his dad signed and compared it to a speeding ticket he signed eight years ago. The signatures are completely different.” Stiles says. He knows he’s right about Theo and he doesn’t get why Scott doesn’t believe him.

“Okay, I believe you. Look, I’m exhausted so how about we get some sleep and talk about this some more later? You’ve got school tomorrow, so you need some sleep too.” Y/N says as gently as she can. She doesn’t want him to feel like she doesn’t believe him either, but she might fall back asleep any minute now. “You know you are welcome to the guest room. It’s practically yours now anyway.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Stiles asks shyly.

“No,” Derek answers quickly.

“Not like in your bed, but like can I drag the guest room’s mattress in here and sleep on it on the floor?”

Even in the dark, Y/N can see the vulnerability in his eyes, “Yes, you can sleep in here.” Stiles smiles and runs out of the room toward the guest room.

“You should’ve said no,” Derek groans.

“He’s worried about his friends and senior year has been giving him a lot of anxiety after asking Dad about his high school buddies.”

“How has that given him so much anxiety that he stinks of it?”

“Dad told him that he no longer speaks to any of his friends from high school and he’s scared him and his friends will end up the same way.”

Derek sighs, “Fine, but him staying in here is a one-time thing.”

Y/N starts to reply when Stiles comes back into the room, pulling the guest bedroom mattress behind him with one hand and his pillows and blankets in the other. He puts the mattress against the wall that faces Y/N’s side of the bed.

He puts his pillows down on the mattress before laying down and wrapping his blankets around himself, “Okay, goodnight. Don’t do anything gross since I’m here.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his last sentence, “Goodnight Stiles.”

As she starts to drift back off to sleep, she hears Stiles speak again, “Y/N?”

“What?”

“Did you notice that Dad stopped wearing his ring?”

“Yeah,” Y/N replies gently.

“Do you think he’s met someone?”

“You’d have to ask him that.” She would’ve responded with yes, but she promised her dad earlier that she wouldn’t tell Stiles because he wanted to be the one to do it.

“I just want him to be happy,” Stiles says, staring up at the ceiling.

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence before Stiles says, “I miss Mom.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, goodnight,” Stiles rolls over to his side to face the wall.

“Goodnight,” Y/N pushes herself back into Derek’s loose embrace. After Stiles laid out the mattress, he was out like a light. She starts to drift off again when Stiles interrupts her again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for believing me.”

“Always.”

---

@xxemmarldxx @esposadomd @ladyjenjay @ts1mp0ne @misshale21

@n1ght5h4d3-24 @xoxoloverb

[hellothetutorshelp-blog]

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[socstudies]

｡･ﾟﾟ･ Socstudies: Sociology 103 ･ﾟﾟ･｡

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Due to unexpected demand, I'm picking this series back up! Today's post is: Why study sociology?

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｡･ﾟﾟ･Why choose any subject?･ﾟﾟ･｡

I think first of all it's important to think about why you would choose to study any subject, as prioritising your criteria can be really helpful. Here are some examples, but you will likely have your own too:

it leads to a high paying job

it's interesting / you enjoy or will enjoy studying it

you have to study it to get the job you want (high paying or not)

you have the pre-requisites (unfortunately sometimes this will rule out a subject)

Now that you've ranked these let's walk through them.

1x Luke's coffee cup earnt for making it this far!

｡･ﾟﾟ･Can sociology lead to a high paying job?･ﾟﾟ･｡

It depends! Sorry! Sociology is quite broad which means it can be applied to other fields that aren't directly sociological. For example, having a good knowledge of people and how they interact can be helpful in jobs such as a consultant or PR manager, but you don't need a sociology degree to do these.

1x Luke's coffee cup earnt for making it this far!

｡･ﾟﾟ･Will you enjoy studying sociology?･ﾟﾟ･｡

Of course as a second year sociology student I'll say yes but this is up to you! Our classes cover literally anything (one of my highest grading essays talked about kpop and stan culture) so you can really tailor your classes and assignments to what interests you, since absolutely anything involving people can be related to sociology. This means that class discussions get really interesting since people bring all sorts of examples and case studies to the table. An added bonus: if you're shy or not a lover of group discussions, you'll definitely have something to say in sociology since you're a part of what is being studied - you can just relate your own experiences or observations to the class material! You're like a walking textbook!

1x Luke's coffee cup earnt for making it this far!

｡･ﾟﾟ･Do any jobs require sociology?･ﾟﾟ･｡

The most obvious one is a sociologist but other jobs list sociology as part of potential entry requirements, such as social worker or teacher. To be honest, a lot of jobs just require you to have a degree (other than lawyers, doctors etc, but you can always to conversion courses or postgrad to do that, and having a sociological background will help with that!). It's all about transferrable skills. As you're studying such a wide scope of things, you will likely discover a certain area that you're super interested in (such as me with criminology and internet culture).

1x Luke's coffee cup earnt for making it this far!

｡･ﾟﾟ･Are there any other reasons to study sociology?･ﾟﾟ･｡

Most people probably say this about their subject, but I do genuinely think it should be a requirement to take at least a few sociology classes. There's been so many times when people have said something that they would have a completely different view of if they had studied sociology; it completely changed my whole perspective of things.

1x Luke's coffee cup earnt for making it this far!

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Review Questions!

1x Luke's coffee cup earnt for each correct answer! (and half a cup for attempting!)

What jobs could sociology potentially lead to? (Doesn't have to be from this list - could do your own research!)

What topics would you like to explore from a sociological perspective? (No right answer... unless you're lying....)

What are four possible reasons to keep in mind while choosing a subject?

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Thank you for taking part! Exchange your cups here, view the previous lesson here, and view the syllabus here!

[ddarker-dreams]

hi lock! i hope this isnt a bother but i recently found out you're a psych major?can i ask what it's like?

THERE ARE STATISTICSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS GOD WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

ahem.

i enjoy it a lot actually! aside from the math jumpscare, i've enjoyed all my classes. especially when compared to high school. good lord. i doubt this comes as a surprise to anyone, but i love writing, and a majority of my assignments are submitting papers/essays. researching a subject and writing about it helps me retain information way better than standardized testing 😭

i'm especially interested in abnormal behavior and criminology (which then bleeds into sociology). the approach to how these subjects are taught is thought-provoking and gives me a lot to chew on. the human mind is beyond fascinating.

overall, my studies have helped sharpen my writing and improved my ability to conduct research. most notably though i have a better understanding of how to best interact with vulnerable groups since that's what a majority of my work consists of.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Unknown Trajectory

Don Eppes x Reader

Words: 3864

Part One of Three

Summary: Charlie begins a specialty course, co-taught by a teacher in criminology. He invites Don as a guest speaker to show the kids first hand the importance of mathematics in crime solving. Don, however, finds more interest in Charlie’s co-worker. When he and the reader begin a relationship, they keep it hidden from the genius mathematician, but find that their growing feelings for each other are only the start of the equation. 

Notes: What started as a fluff idea turned into a three part drama. Welp. I know this isn’t the most popular show for imagines, but god I love writing for Don. Rob Morrow is just great. I hope there are some of you out there who enjoy! Let me know I’m not alone haha. 

More Crime Drama imagines: HERE

-

Don felt like a kid called to the principal’s office. It was stupid. He’d been to Charlie’s place of work countless times, but in those instances, he was there to do a job. He didn’t have to stand up in front of a bunch of kids with higher IQs than him and try to explain how his genius kid brother helps him do his job. 

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he whined, fixing his tie in Charlie’s mirror. 

“And I really, really appreciate it, Don,” Charlie said. “I mean, explaining things with Dr. Y/L/N is one thing, but having you here to let them see the real-life connections I think will really help their understanding of the concepts.”

Don shook his head. “I better not just end up standing up there like an idiot while you and some other ancient law professor with a stick up his ass use me like some, I don’t know, ventriloquist dummy.” Leaning against the desk, Don had his back to the door. “Who is this Dr. Y/L/N, anyway?”

“Well not ancient and not a ‘he,’” a voice behind him chided. “As for the stick though, I’m afraid I have some students who might agree with you.” 

Don gave his brother- who could very clearly see the door opening- a deadly glare. 

Charlie’s brows raised and he laughed nervously. “Y/N. Good of you to stop by before the lesson.”

“I figured I should meet our special guest before he leads our class for the day.” You smiled at Charlie and held out your hand to his brother with a playful glint in your eye. “You must be Agent Eppes.” 

“You can call me Don,” he grimaced. He shook your hand, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. It’s been a long day and my brother kinda sprang this on me and when he talked about you he made you sound….”

“Like an ancient law professor with a stick up his ass?” You teased. 

“I did not!” Charlie protested. 

“It’s okay, Agent Eppes.” Your smile conveyed no hard feelings. In fact, it lit up the room. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Charlie’s told me so much about you.” 

Don glared at him again. Charlie held up his hands innocently.

“All good things,” you laughed. Starting back to the door, you turned around again to give the older Eppes a wink. “Mostly.”

Don bit the inside of his cheek, finding himself utterly speechless. His brother, however, was not.

“We should probably go,” Charlie said. “We don’t want to be late for our own class, hm?” 

“Yes, I can’t wait for Agent Eppes to lead our discussion.” You watched the FBI Agent’s face fall.

“Leading? Who said I was leading?” He looked to Charlie in an irritated panic. “I said I’d answer a few questions.”

Charlie patted him on the back. “You’ll do great.”  

The two of you ushered him into the rush of students before he had the chance to bail. 

The class went better than he expected, though it certainly helped to have you sitting with your students, looking up at Don with interested eyes and a stunning smile. By the time it was over, he was almost a little disappointed that he had to leave. 

“I’ve got to run,” Charlie said on your way out of the classroom. “I promised Larry I’d help him with a demonstration, but we’ll definitely get together to discuss the next assignment, yeah?” 

You nodded, giving him a bright smile. “Today was amazing. I can’t wait to see what the students are going to write for their research assignments.” 

“Yeah, me too.” He put a hand on Don’s shoulder. “And thanks a lot for coming today. I think it really made a difference.” 

“After all the cases you’ve helped with, it’s the least I can do, Charlie,” Don said. 

“See you guys later.” And he was off, diving in between students and hurrying down the hall so he wouldn’t be late. 

You motioned for Don to follow you outside so you could get out of the chaos. The sun just barely peeked out from fluffy white clouds, providing a break from L.A.’s usual heat.

“Really, Agent Eppes, I can’t even begin to thank you for today. I think it really helped them understand the point of the class, seeing you and Charlie interact and hearing about what you do,” you beamed. “It was amazing.”

“Thank you for having me, Dr. Y/L/N,” he said. “It was honestly a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” 

You smiled. “You can call me Y/N.” 

“Only if you stop calling me Agent.” 

You pretended to debate the idea and nodded. The two of you found a bench to sit on. His arm brushed against yours, giving you goosebumps despite the warm air.

Don inhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “Listen, I really am sorry about what I said before the lecture. I was freaking out about talking to all those kids and I was being an ass.”

“You really don’t have to worry.” Looking over the courtyard, you laughed with a sigh. “Believe it or not, I’ve been called worse.” 

“Can I at least make it up to you?” He asked. He leaned a little closer. “Buy you dinner?”

You turned to him with a smirk. “Are you asking me out, Don?” 

“Only if you’re saying yes, Y/N.” 

The clock on the quad struck three and you stood up, taking a piece of paper from your bag and writing your number. 

“I guess I can accept that form of apology,” you said, walking away with a new sway in your step. 

Don watched you go, the simple fun of flirty taking root as something much more complicated in his chest. He ignored it, for now, but found that it never really went away. Especially when he thought about that smile. 

-

The first weekend, he had to cancel due to a series of bank robberies. 

That Wednesday, you rescheduled due to a case your friend needed an expert witness for. 

Almost two weeks passed before you found the slightest open window, and even then it was just a couple of hours during a time that would definitely be classified as ‘booty call’ appropriate. But, despite the connotations of the hour, you made the call. 

“Eppes.”

“Hey, Don. It’s Y/N.” You bit your lip, starting to regret the call already. “Sorry, it’s late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I was up anyway. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just calling because… God this is stupid,” you sighed. “Do you want to come over?” 

There was silence and then-

“Uh… sure?” 

“Only if you aren’t busy. I was planning on ordering a pizza because I haven’t eaten all day and I thought, well, it isn’t exactly fancy, but it still kinda counts as a dinner date, so I called and-”

“A dinner date it is,” Don said before you could spiral too much. “Just tell me your address and I’ll head over, yeah?

You relayed the apartment address and hung up, any confidence you’d had when the two of you first met having totally dissipated. 

It took him only twenty minutes to find your place, which was far shorter than you’d anticipated. Your kitchen table was littered with research files and the living room was in an even worse state. 

“Oh God,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, and opened the door. 

Don stood with a pack of beer in hand and a cautiously optimistic smile. 

“Hey,” he greeted. 

“Hi. Come in. Sorry about the mess. I was cleaning, and then the pizza got here, and then you…” You winced as he looked around, but there was no judgment in his face. 

“If you think this is a mess, you should see mine,” he laughed. His eyes fell upon the already full table. “Where do you want to eat?” 

“Um.” Your eyes searched around in a panic. Finally, you shrugged. “Fire escape.”

“Ah, dinner under the stars,” he teased. “Very romantic.” 

You both climbed out of the window and onto the landing. Don’s hand found the small of your back to make sure you didn’t fall as you sat down on the first step. He sat beside you a step down. 

At first, you both just talked about each other’s days, how you’d been since the last time you saw each other- though, you’d spoken on the phone several times in between. He made a joke about having a lesson with Charlie but admitted they couldn't have solved the case without him. You talked about how well the course seemed to be going, and how the kids still mentioned how much they loved hearing from Don. 

“So how does a beautiful criminology professor end up working with my math wiz brother?” Don smiled, taking a sip from his beer. 

You shifted on the step of the fire escape, shoulder bumping his. 

“I, actually, approached Charlie.” 

He raised a brow. “Really?”

“Uhuh.” You took a bite of your pizza, leaning forward so the grease wouldn’t drip onto your chin. “I heard what he'd been working on for the FBI and I just found it totally fascinating.” Setting the food aside, you leaned against the rail. “He’s taught me a lot.”

“Whether you ask him to or not, right?” Don chuckled. 

“He’s definitely…” You thought for a moment. “Enthusiastic.” The thought of Charlie’s over-caffeinated ramblings made you smirk. “But, I don’t know. I had to take College Algebra twice, so I might not be the easiest student to teach.” 

“I’m sure you’re a dream compared to me and my team.”

You swallowed a drink, shaking your head. “Not from what he says. I mean, you should hear the way he talks about working with you. He just lights up, Don.”

Don hummed but said nothing, and brought the bottle back to his lips. 

The two of you sat in the quiet of the evening, leaning closer ever so slightly, like magnets put next to each other. There was a side of you that blared warning sirens, reminding you of all the reasons this was your first date in two years. That, and he was a federal agent who, on more than one occasion, Charlie had joked about his utter lack of a love life. But you ignored all of it when you closed the space between you.

There was no hesitation, no worry of what this meant. His lips moved against yours, his hand cupping your cheek before moving to the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, all of the stress and pressure from his week melted away. Don smiled against your sigh, setting the pizza box on the landing so he could pull you closer. 

You were both so lost in the moment, you didn’t notice the rain until it started to pour. 

When you finally broke apart, your shirt clung to your skin. His white T-shirt might as well have vanished altogether with how the water turned it completely transparent. 

But the rain was warm and welcoming. It ushered in suggestions. It encouraged. 

Needless to say, the two of you spent the rest of the evening inside. 

-

When Don woke up, his arms were empty, his shirt was drying on the back of a chair, and blinds were drawn back, allowing the sun to blind his tired eyes before he remembered where he was. 

He checked the clock on the nightstand. 7:30. 

“Great," he muttered. 

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he ran a hand down his face to try and wake himself up. With his vision adjusting, he noticed the paper lying over the top of his drying shirt.

Had to prepare for an 8:00 lecture. Didn’t want to wake you. Maybe meet for lunch?

P.S. There's coffee in the kitchen. I made sure to leave it on so it’ll be hot for you. 

Don laughed to himself. Usually, he was the one who had to sneak out because of work. It had to be the first time he’d woken up alone because of homework. 

He put on his clothes and made his way to the kitchen where, sure enough, the coffee pot was left on. He switched it off and poured himself a cup, glancing around at the chaos that was your living room and table in the daylight. It reminded him of the garage when Charlie was on a roll with some equation or another. But he didn’t mind it. He could see how dedicated you were to your job, like he was. So, even though he had to lean against the counter rather than sit at the table, everything already felt so familiar, more welcoming than his own cold and empty apartment. 

He got a call not long after he finished his coffee and sighed. Another day, another case. Still, he thought about your note as he drove. Maybe he could still stop by CalSci. He’d probably have to talk to Charlie anyway and besides, he still owed you a meal. 

-

It was cutting it close, but Don managed to have time to get to CalSci just before noon with some sandwiches from a deli on the way. As he made his way to your office, he followed the sound of a very cheesy 80s power ballad that rang over the gaggle of students. The closer he got to the door, the more he could pick your voice out from Foreigner. 

“Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far. To change this lonely life.”

Don opened the door just a crack and found you jumping around, using a gavel as a microphone. 

“I wanna know what love is. I want you to show me!”

He bit his lip to keep from smiling too widely. Don let you finish the verse before he finally spoke up.

“So this is what you ditched me for, huh?” He said loud enough so you’d hear him over the music. 

Your body went stiff and you slammed your hand on the radio’s off switch. You whipped around, cheeks red as a beat, and ran your fingers through your hair which had become a bit of a mess from head-banging for the past half hour. 

“Don,” you gasped, “hi.” 

“Hey,” he grinned. “Don’t stop on my account, I just figured I’d drop by with that lunch you mentioned.” He set the bag of food on your desk. “I didn’t know what kind you’d like, so I got turkey or roast beef.”

“How romantic,” you teased, leaning on the desk with your hand on his arm. 

“It’s better than soggy pizza, I can tell you that.” 

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “I still can’t believe I called you last night. I swear, I don’t usually do that kind of thing. I just figured it might be our only chance to-”

“I had a good time.” He assured you, tucking a wild hair behind your ear. “A great time, actually.” He placed his hand behind your head. “I’m glad you called.” 

Your lips just barely brushed his when you pushed back with a reluctant sigh. 

“I can’t do this.” 

Don let his hand fall back to his side and tried not to let his face fall as well. He cleared his throat and took a step away from you. 

“Right,” he said stoically. “Okay.”

“Oh my God, no that came out wrong,” you exclaimed. “I mean I can’t do this right now.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay?”

“Don, I really, really enjoyed last night.” You took his hands in yours. “I had more fun than I’ve had in a long time and, I know our schedules are crazy, but I would really like to see you again. Preferably not on my fire escape, though I’m definitely not upset about what that led to.” The memory of his lips against yours, his hands grasping yours, his body against yours popped into your mind. You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. “I just can’t do it right now because-”

With the knock at the door, you let your hands drop his and you both stepped further away from each other. 

“Are you ready to go over-” Charlie started. His words and his feet halted, however, when he saw you weren’t alone. “Don, hey. What are you doing here?” 

You and the agent exchanged a look and an unsaid understanding passed between you, though neither of you knew the reason.

“I, uh, I was coming to see you and thought I’d say hi to Dr. Y/L/N,” Don said. 

“Yeah, I had a couple of questions about some of your… procedures that I wanted to clear up for the next lesson,” you coughed to cover your lie. “Don was nice enough to stop by since he’s here to see  you.” 

“Right.” Don nodded. 

Charlie blinked. “Ooooookay.” He waved the files in his hand. “So, are you ready to go over the equations to narrow down possible killers from larger lists?” 

“Actually, Charlie, I do need to talk to you,” Don said. “It’s about that serial killer we think may have started up again.” 

“Right.” Charlie tapped his chin with the folder. “Um, Y/N can I take a rain check? We can talk it over after your last class?”

“Sounds good.” You gave him a tight smile. “Good luck catching bad guys. Both of you.” Both Eppes nodded, Don mouthing an apology so Charlie wouldn't see.

 You returned it with finger guns. 

Once they were gone, you hit your palm to your forehead. “Finger guns?” You chided yourself. “Really?”

With a sigh, you switched on the radio and rummaged through the bag Don brought you for the turkey sandwich. 

“Hey, Charlie. Yeah, let’s talk about class,” you said in mock conversation. “Oh, and by the way? I had sex with your brother. That’s not going to be weird right?” 

You let your forehead fall to your desk, narrowly missing your sandwich.

This was going to be more complicated than you thought. 

-

“I’m serious!” You giggled. “I am deathly afraid of, you heard it, swans.” 

“Swans?” Don shook his head. “Like white fluffy birds they put on valentines cards, those swans?”

“Don’t let the cards fool you. Swans are demonic little creatures.” You sipped your wine, still sniggering. “I got chased by one as a kid. The thing almost bit me. Scarred me for life.” 

“Well, if we ever come across any rogue swans, I’ll protect you,” he smiled. 

“Oh, right, my knight in shining Kevlar going up against waterfowl. That’s something I’d pay to see.” 

You both laughed a little too loudly, the other patrons at the restaurant casting looks in your direction. Despite that, the wine and candlelight definitely set a different scene than beer on your fire escape. Though, you might still prefer the latter.

It’d been two months since that night. And somehow, in the face of all the obstacles your jobs posed- including keeping everything a secret from his brother- you’d managed to build something resembling a real relationship. Which excited and terrified you. 

“How were classes today?” He asked, pouring you more wine. 

“Your brother scares me with how smart he is sometimes,” you exclaimed.  “I mean, the things he’s able to figure out using symbols that mean absolutely nothing to me…” 

“Welcome to my world, sweetheart.” 

Don placed his hand on top of yours, gently drawing circles on the back of your wrist, seeming lost in thought. 

“Speaking of Charlie,” he started, glancing up at you with a question you’d both had on your mind. 

“Right,” you sighed. 

“Should we…” Don cleared his throat. “We should tell him, right? It’s weird that we haven’t told him.”

“I thought that too.” You swirled your wine in the glass. “But now isn’t it more weird that we haven’t told him? I mean, what do we say? That we’ve been seeing each other for a couple months now and just forgot to mention it?” 

“Yeah, but we can’t go on sneaking around like high school kids, right?” 

“I know, I know. But it still just feels… weird.”

Don raised a brow. “Dating me feels weird?” 

“No,” you rolled your eyes, poking his arm. “But dating my co-worker’s brother behind his back is a little odd.”

“Charlie’s a big boy, I’m sure he’ll be fine. Besides, it's not like you two were a thing.” Don took a drink.

You lowered your eyes. 

“Wait,” he swallowed. “You and Charlie…” He shook his head in disbelief “And you didn’t think to mention it?” 

“It wasn’t even really a thing,” you defended. “It was… a fraction of a thing. A teeny tiny percentage of a thing.” He still stared at you wide-eyed, so you continued. “We were at an end-of-the-year function for faculty, had a couple drinks, and went for a walk.”

“That’s it?”

You bit your lip. “And we kissed. But that was it!”

“You kissed my brother?” He exclaimed.

People around you started to whisper. 

You lowered your voice. 

“Now who’s acting like a high schooler?” You scoffed, leaning back in your chair. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just-” Don held up his hands, holding back laughter. “Difficult to imagine. That’s all.” 

“Obviously, we decided to just be friends and that's part of how our joint class came to be,” you said. 

He nodded, but couldn’t contain his smirk. “But you didn’t want to say anything about us just in case he carried a torch for you, huh?”

“No, it isn’t that.” You knew as well as anybody that Charlie had eyes for one person and you were over the moon that he and Amita were finally working things out. But you also couldn’t bear the thought of upsetting him over something like this, especially after not telling him for so long. “I just didn’t want to make things awkward.” 

“Well, like I said, Charlie’s a grown man,” Don shrugged. “Even if he did have a problem, he’d get over it.” 

The waitress brought the check and Don snagged it before you could. You finished your wine and he ate the last piece of bread by the time she got back. 

“I will say though,” you mused as the two of you stood to leave, laying a hand on his chest. “All of the secrecy is more than a little bit sexy, hm?”

He cocked a brow. “Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Makes you seem like James Bond.” 

He chuckled, his hand finding the small of your back to lead you back to the car. 

“Alright, then maybe you should get me to a secure location, Dr. Y/L/N,” he teased. “We wouldn’t want to blow my cover.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” You winked and got in the car. 

While it certainly wasn’t a path you expected to be on, for the first time in a long while, you were enjoying the ride. 

Maybe, this time, things would be different. 

For both of you.

[prinsessanrosamunda]

19/07/2024

moving abroad diaries part 2

study plan

my courses for the first year:

1. Criminal Justice

2. Essential Skills for Criminologists

3. Psychology for Criminologists

4. Social Psychology

5. Understanding Criminology

a typical week

it is recommended to spend at least 35 hours studying/week including the 9 hours/week that is scheduled - which makes for about 4 hours of studying/day outside of scheduled lessons to spread across the day

some general study tips & guidelines

keep a study diary where I make schedules and clear task lists, for every project and every day of studying

make my desk a neat and ideal place for studying (desk makeover/layout as a separate post) & finding other quiet nooks to study at the library, university and cafés

study studying-techniques and document in study diary what works best for me

! don’t stop reading outside of coursework !

rest and take small breaks + reward myself when reaching a milestone, accomplishing a goal; a sweet treat, a movie etc

try to help and receive help from others more (God knows I struggle with asking for help)

eat enough, focus on nutritious foods and prioritise sleep and movement (helps with studies in the long run + prevents burnout) especially when stressed

watching videos, mood boards, generally cute and motivating posts about studying helps me a lot

note taking

before class/lecture, review any assigned readings or materials. identify the main ideas and concepts that will likely be discussed

check the course syllabus to understand the day's focus. note important topics

briefly revisit notes from previous class sessions to connect new ideas

write down the main concepts, helpful details, and examples

organize your notes strategically for post-lecture annotation and later review

use visual aids, such as pictures and diagrams, throughout your notes to illustrate concepts visually

include your own questions, observations, and reflections

pinterest motivation

[angiedarlingmd]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { angela arendt } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { she } is? they kind of look like { rachel weisz } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { forty eight } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { three years }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { abby sciuto } from { ncis }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { seaglass heights hospital } as a { therapist }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { paradox } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { judgy } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { dedicated } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { 1 bed } apartment beside me over in { coral cove }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

name: angela arendt nickname(s): ang, angie, jelly date of birth : august 2nd, 1976 birthplace : st. louis, missouri birth parents: elias & seraphina tannenbaum (both deseased) adopted parents : penelope & dominic arendt siblings : oscar (raised), lukas (bio), ezra (bio) & elias (bio) height : 162cm / 5'4" ft ethnicity : jewish orientation : bisexual + demiromantic martial status : single children : none languages : english, hungarian, ASL degree(s) : PHDs in sociology and psychology, degrees in criminology and forensic science

background {WIP - will likely add more}

adopted as a small child, after her parent's death, she only knew her adopted parents as family. she grew up with a brother, two years older than her but still thick as thieves. her parents are both deaf so she learned ASL before learning english from her teachers and the neighborhood kids.

she was a gifted child and her determination to solve what was in front of her, pushed her further still. she excelled in school, and even though she did not have many friends, the ones she had were very dear to her.

~~~~

after her post-graduate studies, angela threw herself fully into her work. from literal crime-solving to social work to therapy and children's rights coordinator, the work was hard and cruel but she had felt like it was her god-given responsibility to help as many people as she could.

while it might have seemed obvious to everyone that even the good guys were not bulletproof, she always kept her hope and spirits high for justice to prevail. it was not blind optimism to ang, as she had seen plenty of tragedy, from her friends and close colleagues and even close calls herself. she just knew she had to keep her faith or she and those she was trying to help wouldn't make it.

angela's has had her fair share of significant others and partners but it just never seemed to work in the long term. her standards are high and even as the years passed, she didn't want to lower it or sacrifice her goals to settle. she has no regrets in this aspect as she is a proud aunt and loving sister and still has fun dating.

sex and physical affection is just the way of life but love really means something. angie can be standoffish or even cold to those she doesn't know or doesn't care for - but once she loves you, she's yours for life. loyal to her core

after years of working for the government and it's agencies, her work came to a sudden halt. there had been a project, a mission, an assignment - and a close friend family member of hers had been killed. killed saving her.

when she woke up in the hospital days later - it was like a gun went off in her head (i mean, one went off beside her head) and she realized that she couldn't save everyone. now it would have to be enough to save herself. at the same time, she also had a crisis of faith. she has not stepped foot inside a temple since then.

ang wanted to do something to honour him and his life and decided to start a NGO to work with foster care children and single mothers to get them into safe housing. it was the perfect use of her old social work and psychology experience and she was sure he was supporting her efforts from wherever he was.

palm view had been the perfect breath of fresh air for angie, feeling a weight lifted from her heart when she started to settle in and even get a job getting back to her routes. truly just talking to, learning about and helping people.

resume

Columbia University : internship / teaching assistant [ 1992 - 1997 ]

NYC Health + Hospitals : forensic psychologist [ 1997 - 1999 ]

Bureau of Public Health : clinical social worker [ 1999 - 2003 ]

Federal Bureau of Investigation : forensic technician [ 2003 - 2009 ] special agent [ 2009 - 2013 ]

ICPO–INTERPOL : interpol liaison officer - translation & social work [ 2013 - 2018 ]

Redacted : Redacted [ 2019 - 2019 ]

Seaglass Heights Hospital : therapist [ 2022 - current ]