#and we were children. we were children then we started middle school in 2010 and YET

[n0wav]

My Miku Obsession...

Hello chatters!!!

I am currently coming at you guys from my pc in which i use to play video games such as, overwatch, fortnite, destiny 2, league of legends (i feel off fr on that game) and good ol' roblox and minecraft.

if anyone wants to play any of these games with me (mostly fortnite) please dm me and we will play at any point you'd like!

Now back to the topic at hand

she has blue hair, blue eyes and she hides in your wifi...

IIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSS

HATSUNE MIKU!

Now my story starts aaaaaalll the way back to the year 2010, I was age 5 in my daycare/pre-school. Now my time in that daycare has many many many stories, but i will not be talking about those at the moment. Now as a child i did not enjoy nap time at daycare. I was not able to sleep thanks to my ADHD, so instead I was allowed to stay up and like draw or play with toys and stuff. At this daycare, maybe at many more I've only been at the one, they had highschool interns working there and helping the main teachers take care of and control the little children.

There was one high schooler who, instead of just making me draw, she would take me to the office and watch youtube, and majority of the youtube videos were miku music videos. As a little 5 year old i was automatically hooked, to the point to where I would beg our roommates (we lived with another family for a large part of my life) to let me use their computer so I could keep watching more and more videos over and over all day long.

Now through the years I stopped watching many of the videos mostly because i was scared people would think i was weird for watching them so in middle school i basically fully stopped and ended my love for miku.

up until high school in my freshman year where i came across a random miku video and decided to click on it....

I was then hooked again.

i kept it a big secret however, not even telling my close friends.

near the end of highschool i kinda stopped again mostly because i was going through a whole lot and i just really could't watch much things anymore so I had a small break.

Recently i've been falling back into miku and its been awesome and i now remember why i loved her so much. I cannot stop wathcing videos and listening to songs and once i have money i will spend it all on plushes and figures!

we love miku

miku is our everything

here is a miku song i suggest yall should listen to

thank you all for listening tomorrow i will make another post where i will do an analysis of a band and it will be very very good and def wont be another rant :3

last note this is the best miku song (joke)

[clairethecutepup]

Social Media Won't Fix Your Loneliness and Other Problems...

Social media, something we essentially can't separate from our offline lives these days-- whether we want them so or not. However, for all its benefits it may offer, very rarely can it ever be used as a problem solver... Case in point, it won't solve your personal issues of invalidity or loneliness-- despite the "social" aspect that allows engagement with others, including in "validating" manners. If anything, it can worsen those very problems or simply be enough to ruin your day. I know, it's nonsensical to lecture, "Don't do this!" or "Don't do that!" and leave it at that. So, I won't and actually tell you how to lessen it's hold on you, even if not completely. After all, I figured out my own way for my personal vices: loneliness from "stir-craziness," and a desire for peoples' attention and praise.

In fact, I'm starting to think that's exactly why I had some odd, emotional issues stemming from something like Corn Kidz 64: it hits a nostalgic nerve, taking me back to earlier days. When I was younger, I'd generally have school be my only time of having others to engage with-- if I didn't bother them-- or instead play with the younger children my mom took care of and had to focus on. When middle school came and I was old enough to be left home alone, it'd essentially just be me most of the time. Think of yourself repeating the pandemic's "stay at home" order every Summer, since you can't really leave the house and all that. Naturally, and being of age, social media would become a habit.

Likewise, it was around the time my creative desires were at an all-time high, and now I finally had the chance to share things I made. Unfortunately, being a beginner and eager kid, it wasn't the warmest reception. It wouldn't be until my first ever Deviantart account, around half a year later, that people would be a tad more supportive and friendlier (this was the early 2010's). Of course, not everyone was suddenly nice to me, I still got "called out" for making content of terrible quality. 

Naturally as a result, it led to developing my first social media vice: the need for validation, even all these years later. After all, you "gotta prove them wrong" and "prove I'm talented," prove that you can make your dreams of creating beloved content that's spread far and wide come true. Even though, you'll forever be resentful of your past self for not starting out as well and costing yourself a "head start" in achieving that goal, regardless of if achieved or not. Given how nostalgic CK64 is and how it generally feels like a game I would've also enjoyed in school, and even make content of back then, it’s no wonder it hits such a strong nerve. Honestly, thank goodness Bogosoft never went through with Final Freekend's 2011 release (the "prototype"), I would've probably subjected the goats and Ally to inclusion in less quality-filled content.

So yeah, again CK64 fandom (if any of you are reading this), I'm sorry for the past decree of disinterest in working on further content related to the game. If you're wondering what my discouragement problem was, it was probably that: being mentally transported back to days where I had to prove I could make good stuff, too, and feared possible annoyance at me for simply sharing what may not be "good enough" or I’m doing something to make me unappealing. I mean, I found out it was the truth with some people, but who honestly should care? It doesn't undo the past nor is it still the past, and it won't fix my vices to suddenly have everyone declare me their favorite person and that I make their favorite content.

No, only I can fix that-- just like you can, too, with whatever vice causes you to seek out social media. I can fix the loneliness, by spending less time within the room I rely on for digital work; I can fix the need for validation and all, by focusing less on completing things and more on making the process of completion fun or relaxing. I try to curb the habit of staying home as often as possible, learning to make myself go out there and actually feel ready to stay home for the day; I try to stay away from my phone and wane myself away from checking notifications.

True, there is no "cure" for such vices and we'll all still feel their emotional effects upon us, but we can weaken its hold. You also might not be able to have the solutions I do, like it being safe enough nor simply possible to just sit outside of your living space. But, you always have a solution that doesn't have to be a permanent escape from whatever mental, psychological or other type of torment your social media vices cause. If you can't go outside, you can instead use the internet to educate yourself, hone your skills-- things more enriching than "how many people 'appreciate' me and care?" They also have special spaces online dedicated to just chatting, if you find yourself strongly needing social interaction and the web is your only option. I believe Silverline has an online service as much as a phone one...? Or, you could always look up: "chatting spaces to avoid loneliness." There's also "offline" solutions, like traditional artwork or a good book. 

It may be hard at first, avoiding your "doom-scrolling" or need to see if ol' Claire here had "redeemed" herself, but it's not impossible. You only need to find the solution that works for YOU, and it can be whatever YOU want-- no matter how "pathetic" or otherwise it could seem to others, don't be afraid to do what makes you feel most comfortable and less likely to feel pushed into behaving drastically. 

Remember, don't make social media your world nor solution, only keep it as a means of enjoying what others share and especially enjoy sharing what you want to. Unfortunately, I'll be limiting my own "enjoying" of others' things, at least for the time being; but one day, when I get my issues fully sorted out, I'll be back to enjoying others' CK64 and other independent forms of fan-content and otherwise.

Good luck to you guys, too.

[la-storia-di-lola]

i read some post about having a fear of being perceived due to the constant criticism you received as a child.

and to be honest i never really thought of that as an issue i was dealing with, even though i do have a very strong tendency to avoid being perceived and definetly have troubles with it. but i always just kind of assumed the criticism had to come from parents. and mine were really lovely in that department, like no complaints.

but reading that post i suddenly remembered a certain sentence i kept on hearing as a child from other children... "why are you doing this?" and "why is she doing that miss?" and like those children weren't bullying me or anything (some were, but like i managed to get out of kindergarten and primary school fairly well with minimum bullying, nothing drastic, just the usual kids stuff that everyone deals with). and yet i still have a physical negative reaction remembering that sentence hahaha

but anyway that is not the point, it only got me thinking.

in high school i was quite severly bullied by two of my friends. one luckily failed her first year so i got rid of her. but the other stayed. her bullying was by far the worst in first year at the time when we were best friends (she'd make up rummors about me and spread them around the school, like not only around our class, or was telling me how unatractive i was because i looked like a hanger or how she felt sorry for boys whose girlfriends had drawn on eyebrows (i was filling mine in, because i have naturally very thin and fair eyebrows and it was the 2010s) or she'd straight up tell me i shouldn't tell people about certain things i liked doing cause they were weird and so on). but even after she cut me off as her friend, she kept on like observing me i guess and making comments about me and my behaviour in front of everyone. especially in the last year, when i got off my hormonal therapy and as a result became a bit more social and happy again she would constantly pick on me. like it really was mainly just about observing my every move and making comments about it.

and i guess it really fucked with my head.

i never really took it all that seriously. but then i was taking a criminology class in 2021 and the professor held a class on bullying and its effects. and i just remember how tense i became at the start of the class, i almost didn't want to hear about it. and then she got to talking about how it is proven that bullying leads to higher rates of anxiety and depression and so on and so forth and how teachers don't really understand how they should handle bullying. that they handle it as a conflict between two students, when that is the worst way to do it, because one child has all the power over the other and if they try to "resolve it on their own" the one with the power will just continue to dominate the other etc. and by the second half od the class i was shaking and almost crying (it was over zoom, so i was in the privacy of my apartment and my boyfriend actually had to comfort me in the middle). and as much as it was hard to think about it, it was also so healing. like for the first time in my life not only someone acknowledged what happened to me was bad and that it had lasting effects and explained everything, it was also that it came from an authority figure, an adult. because NONE of the professors (and almost none of our classmates) ever picked up on what lana was doing to me. for the first time i felt like it really wasn't my fault.

and that is why i think it is so important to teach kids not to bully. and especially for us as adults now not to bully kids!!!! because i know why lana was that way, i know what her family life was like and i know why she picked me. like i understand. but that doesn't actually help with the issues i'm still dealing with. it really stays with you for life. it gets better and therapy and working on it can definitely do wonders. but yeah, please lets do better and not teach kids bullying. please. DO NOT BULLY KIDS, it stays with them forever and that is also where they learn to bully others.

be kind and gentle and understanding to kids. love them and show them love. please.

[alixx-black]

2010-2023: A #BodyAppreciation & #BodyPositivity Post

I am 5’2” and weigh 248 lbs. I wear an XL shirt and size 18 jeans, size 2XL in leggings, and size 2 in professional pants. My shoe size in female sizing is a size 8 adult and my shoe size is male sizing is a size 6 children’s. My bra size is a 40DDD, and I usually buy hipster underwear in a size XL.

My blood work has me as far away from diabetes as I can be, and my healthy cholesterol is in perfect range every time I get my blood work done. Everything that is in my control, is always in the healthy and normal ranges.

The things that I am diagnosed with are independent of my weight. Sure, some of them might be less hard if I were smaller, but they wouldn’t be cured if I was half my size. The biggest change losing weight would award me besides more clothing options is that doctors would stop blaming my weight for everything when they meet me for the first time.

But I have never, ever been a tiny person. Growing up, my friends worse and shared their size 3 - 5 jeans, while I bounced between a size 8 and 10. Wearing even numbered jeans were for “fat girls.” When my peers rolled up their shorts, I kept tugging them down because my thighs rubbed together and it hurt. In elementary school, girls were stuffing their bras with tissue or getting padded bras, while I wore a sports bra over a regular one just to make my C-cups look flat. In the summer, my peers wanted to sport their barest bodies to show off how fit and thin they were. I got into arguments with my mom because I wanted to wear goth pants and hoodies.

By some miracle, I never developed body dysphoria. I never had unhealthy eating behaviors. I never struggled with the extremely damaging experience of an eating disorder. I had people, friends and family, comment about my breasts and weight. I was always given clothes that were too big or too small. My body was sexualized by everyone - and I do mean everyone.

In middle school, a friend told me I was too fat to have short hair. In high school, I was told nobody would ever be intimate with me because I had rolls and a double chin. My first employer told me I was too fat to work the register because he had to put the pretty girls up there so that customers came back to look at them. As an adult, I was told during a job interview that I almost wasn’t called in for it because my cleavage made me look to sexy for the brand.

I have fallen for the toxic beauty standards. I have body shamed people, and made comments about females being too sexy when it wasn’t my business. I have been the “I am not like other girls” and “one of the guys” brat that every friend group hates. By no means am I innocent in this strange world of our bodies being perceived as public property.

But I have also been someone else’s idea of beautiful. I have been someone’s else’s idea of fashion bravery. I have been someone else’s idea of strong. I have a body that has made others feel safer in theirs. I have made others want to be more free in their skin.

Sometimes I hate my body just like everyone else, but more than ever - I love this body for all I have put it through. I love what it has allowed me to do. Even when it doesn’t work right and leaves me crippled in bed, it keeps doing what bodies are meant to do - keep me alive.

Fat isn’t a bad word. Not in my house, not in my conversations. I encourage you to start changing the way you see your body and the way you describe it. These bodies have done a lot for us, and we should love them before anyone else gets to.

[sleepysarah13]

Unit 4: Communicating via the Internet

The fourth unit of this course focused on communicating via the Internet.

I learned… 

The Internet is not making communication briefer or less formal

Communication has always been brief to some extent (Telegrams were a form of brief communication that existed across three centuries)

Communication has always been informal to some extent (Slang words in text date back centuries, and emoticons, the precursor to emojis, have existed since the late 1800s.

Instead, the Internet is demonstrating our preference for transient, asynchronous communication.

Transient communication refers to the long-lasting nature of the written communication that most forms of communication via the Internet take on (when you send a text or an email it doesn't disappear)

Asynchronous communication refers to the flexible nature of communication via the Internet by allowing us to read and respond to messages at a later time (because texts, emails, etc don't disappear, you are able to go back to them and reply later)

Next in this unit we learned the proper way to email a teacher. Recommendations include:

Use your school email account

Use your teacher's last name in your salutation

Start with a new message unless your current message is on the same topic as a previous message

Write an informative subject heading

Do not address a teacher by their first name unless they have explicitly instructed you to do so

Use paragraph breaks to help organize your message

Write grammatically, spell correctly, and use appropriate capitalization

Use paragraphs breaks to help organize your message

Don’t use email to rant or whine

Write the body of the email message first; fill in the address line last

These recommendations are important for middle school students too!

Next, there is no scientifically supported reason to believe that children texting and using textisms will negatively affect their literacy.

Research done by Kemp (2010) revealed that text messaging frequency was not related to differences in literacy scores.

Those who sent and received more text messages could read the messages quicker, write them out quicker, and understand more “textese” (Kemp 2010)

Participants used textisms more for smaller words than larger phrases (Kemp 2010)

Research done by Plester et al. (2008) revealed mixed results regarding texting’s effect on children’s literacy.

The number of texts sent negatively impacted participant’s scores on non-verbal and verbal cognitive abilities (Plester et al. 2008)

However, the use of textisms positively impacted participant’s verbal reasoning abilities as well as spelling abilities (Plester et al. 2008)

Research done by Wood et al. (2011) revealed no significant differences between children who engaged in text messaging and those who did not. 

However, the results indicated that there may be some potentially positive impacts on verbal skills over time (though this could not be verified due to the shorter length of this study) (Wood et al. 2010)

Older generation's constant slander of online slang does not account for these benefits of using textese!

Furthermore, communication on the Internet is also beneficial in research.

Research surveys conducted via text message are more accurate than surveys conducted via telephone

Respondents are less likely to straightline (answer a series of questions similarly)

Respondents are less likely to satisfice (round their answers so they are no longer specific, accurate estimates)

Respondents are less likely to fall prey to socially desirable responses (Changing answers to be more positively received by others)

[notwiselybuttoowell]

The fringe never stopped being an education for me. When I was starting to write hourlong shows of my own, I went to see Bridget Christie and realised everything I was doing was shit and needed to be overhauled. I have watched shows by contemporaries, such as my ex-flatmate turned sitcom superstar Rose Matafeo, the sketch masters Lazy Susan and the genius/serial award-loser James Acaster, that reminded me why I fell in love with comedy.

When I hosted Edinburgh Nights for the BBC in 2018 and 2019, I was even forced to watch things that weren’t comedy. I saw Rachael Young marry live music, dance and Afrofuturism in Nightclubbing, a show that paid homage to Grace Jones. I saw Pussy Riot and was fortunate enough to interview them, where I was informed that they hadn’t been smuggled out of Russia to perform at the festival, as reported in the press, but had travelled “by unicorn”.

When I wasn’t watching shows, I was performing; learning how to be a comedian, step by excruciating step. In 2010 and 2011, I performed in a sketch double act with Tom Neenan. We were called the Gentlemen of Leisure and the show was a parody of The Culture Show on BBC Two and was exactly as financially profitable as it sounds. But we learned a huge amount about joke-writing and the partnership ended up with Tom becoming my partner in crimes against comedy on various radio shows and The Mash Report.

Meanwhile, I was doing standup on the Free Fringe, where the audience members aren’t charged, but can offer a donation to the performers on leaving the venue. The aim is for the donation to be in cash, but we were often compensated in old playing cards, flyers for our own show and bits of string. Still, these were formative experiences, performing on 25 consecutive days, accelerating my development more than months of infrequent gigging on the open mic circuit in London possibly could.

[...]

At times, it can feel as though defending the fringe is morally indefensible, like eating meat or supporting Manchester United. Landlords have been encouraging students to stay in their flats in August, leading to a shortage of properties and driving up prices. The Fringe Society was forced to launch a drive to find Edinburgh residents who would be willing to rent properties to performers for less than £280 a person a week. Some performers are staying out of town in caravans or on campsites.

Meanwhile, the Fringe Society is facing criticism for scrapping its app, a valuable tool for performers to direct audiences to their shows, sell more tickets and hopefully mitigate some of those astronomical rents.

The fringe is supposed to be a place where performers can come to experiment and evolve. However, it is turning into a playground for those born wealthy – like Monaco, but with more people who went to clown school.

It has been heading this way for years – and I am not exactly an example to the contrary. I grew up middle class and went to a fancy university that subsidised my first two trips here. More significantly, when I started doing solo standup shows, my first three were paid for by a management company. At the time, the going rate for a solo show (including venue hire, accommodation and PR costs) was about £10,000. I was performing in venues that were so small that even if I had sold every single ticket I would still have lost money.

It would be disingenuous not to acknowledge my fortune. It would make me no better than the swines in our cultural and political life who are the children of wealth, but proudly proclaim that they “did it on their own, without any help”. It is our most pernicious myth, aside from the one that brussels sprouts taste nice if you fry them with bacon. Your dad bought you a flat and the thing that tastes good is bacon. Sprouts taste like small, hard farts.

This is to say nothing of the woeful underrepresentation of female acts, ethnic minorities and members of the LGBTQ+ community. Organisations such as Fringe of Colour and Best in Class work hard to address this, but wholesale change is needed. No one seems to be able to put the finger on who is to blame. Landlords, venues, PRs, Edinburgh university and the Fringe Society blame each other, but in the end the bill is footed by performers.

It is no wonder that younger comedians are increasingly seeing the benefits of social media exposure to their careers; the startup costs required are minuscule in comparison to those of doing a show on the fringe. But allowing the fringe to slip slowly into obsolescence would be a shame. At its core, it offers performers a boot camp to hone their skills and a collision of different styles of performance.

Being a performer at the fringe can feel like being a character on a film set in Las Vegas, because the house always wins. And I mean one of the bleak Vegas films, not Ocean’s Eleven – there is no sign of Clooney or Pitt. The only time it resembles Ocean’s Eleven is when you hear some drama student attempt a truly disgraceful cockney accent that would make even Don Cheadle say: “Bleeding heck, guvnah.”

I still believe in the fringe. Perhaps that is inevitable, given my whole life is tied to it, like a pointless Forrest Gump. My birthday is in August, so I can measure my life through the festivals I have attended. My first years I was there, I spent almost every waking moment with Tom and Ed Gamble. In the past three years, I have been best man at their weddings. In 2010, I met a woman who was funny and charming, but whom I presumed disliked me intently. In October, we will have been in a relationship for 10 years. I cannot separate my own life from the fringe and the city of Edinburgh. It has given so much to me, professionally and personally.

But even I understand that it stands at a crossroads. It must find a way to recapture its egalitarian spirit to remain relevant. It is not enough for charitable organisations to fill in the gaps; systemic change is needed. I say this not out of malice, but simply because I strongly believe, to quote my own mother: “If you love something, you must be willing to relentlessly point out everything that is wrong with it,” a phrase she often says to and about me.

[april-is]

April 16, 2022: Will You?, Carrie Fountain

Will You? Carrie Fountain

When, at the end, the children wanted to add glitter to their valentines, I said no.

I said nope, no, no glitter, and then, when they started to fuss, I found myself

saying something my brother’s football coach used to bark from the sidelines when one

of his players showed signs of being human: oh come on now, suck it up.

That’s what I said to my children. Suck what up? my daughter asked,

and, because she is so young, I told her I didn’t know and never mind, and she took

that for an answer. My children are so young when I turn off the radio as the news turns

to counting the dead or naming the act, they aren’t even suspicious. My children

are so young they cannot imagine a world like the one they live in. Their God is still

a real God, a whole God, a God made wholly of actions. And I think they think I work

for that God. And I know they will someday soon see everything and they will know about

everything and they will no longer take never mind for an answer. The valentines

would’ve been better with glitter, and my son hurt himself on an envelope, and then, much

later, when we were eating dinner, my daughter realized she’d forgotten one of the three

Henrys in her class. How can there be three Henrys in one class? I said, and she said, Because there are.

And so, before bed we took everything out again—paper and pens and stamps and scissors—

and she sat at the table with her freshly washed hair parted smartly down the middle and wrote

WILL YOU BE MINE, HENRY T.? and she did it so carefully, I could hardly stand to watch.

==

Also: Good Bones, Maggie Smith

Today in: 

2021: After Graduate School, Valencia Robin 2020: in lieu of a poem, i’d like to say, Danez Smith 2019: from The Invention of Streetlights 2018: Returning, Tami Haaland 2017: An Ordinary Composure, James L. White 2016: Verge, Mark Doty 2015: Reasons to Survive November, Tony Hoagland 2014: Unhappy Hour, Richard Siken 2013: Just Once, Anne Sexton 2012: Talk, Noelle Kocot 2011: Why They Went, Elizabeth Bradfield 2010: Anxiety, Frank O’Hara 2009: The Continuous Life, Mark Strand 2008: An old story, Bob Hicok 2007: you can’t be a star in the sky without holy fire, Frank X. Gaspar 2006: For the Sisters of the Hotel Dieu, A.M. Klein 2005: Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem, Bob Hicok

[duchessofostergotlands]

I know it's not a charity, but I was wondering what you think about Party Pieces ?

I often see anti-kate people saying that there must be some shady business with the Middletons because there's no way a company like that could make them into millionaires. I know you probably don't know their inside business, but I would like to know your opinion.

Hello :) They do have some accounts for some elements of the company but I am actually not very well versed in reading company accounts. But I'd say a few things.

They had money before Party Pieces which some people have suggested paid for the kids to go to school. It was an inheritance from Mike's side of the family. So they had time to build up their fortune and their business before Kate met William.

But I think there's a few misconceptions. Firstly, when we say someone is a millionaire we are really talking about the value of their estate. That does not translate to cash in the bank. So I truly don't know enough about the Middletons' finances to know the ins and outs but it's possible their value is in the millions without them actually having millions in their bank account. The other thing I think people do is they view the company through today's lens. They started in 1987. The internet was a niche thing that had just been createdt. So they were really the first major company to do what they did in the UK. I think nowadays you might think "how could someone be a millionaire from selling paper plates for £2?" But we're thinking that because there's 57 knock off sites selling the same paper plates and of course there's Amazon where the whole business model is to sell things at a loss to drive other companies out of business. Those things simply didn't exist so if you think about all the middle class mums (obviously dads can buy stuff for kids parties but this was the 80s lol) competing to have the best children's birthday parties, this was one of the few places they had to go outside of a supermarket (where they have a limited range which everyone will have) or a local party shop (which not every area will have). And because they had been going for so long, they had built up a market share which has of course only been helped by the Kate connection.

Now, that being said, I do know they did some things that are frowned upon now. So back in 2010 it was suggested that they were selling their customer database. They will have had contact details and information about purchasing trends for thousands of middle class parents, a lucrative group of spenders, and so other companies would pay Party Pieces a lot of money to access that data which they could then use for targeted ads etc. They no longer do that, although it's still perfectly legal as long as you tell people and they opt in. So that could be classified as ethically dicey but I also think data rights didn't really become a big topic of discussion until the early to mid 2010s and all of us still willingly give away our data to companies who sell or share that every day. So I'm not minimising that that is a bit dodgy but it's kind of just general capitalism lol.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How long would it take the volturi to solve the Kira case?

Fascinating question, anon, I like it. So much so you get answered much earlier than you normally would be.

Shinigami and the World of Twilight

In Twilight there are few supernatural creatures that remain in our world. There's vampires, children of the moon, and the shapeshifter. However, these need not be the only supernatural creatures.

There have likely been mass extinctions (seen in Children of the Moon) and there may be more creatures that are so uncommon that we just don't see any hint of them.

Death Note's Shinigami easily fall into this category.

They live in another dimension, and in the human world (which they rarely visit in person), they're invisible to the eye save for those who have touched their death note. Their methods of killing are so unobtrusive, (heart attacks by default or whatever method they please), that they're unlikely to be noticed unless someone (i.e. Light) is trying to make a point. And in the grand scheme of things, Shinigami also kill relatively infrequently, meaning that any odd death gets passed off as that: an odd death. Also being forbidden to kill for the sake of a human being means that the deaths tend to be a) random b) whatever amuses them the most. That'd be hard to pick a pattern up of.

Shinigami exist in such a manner that I doubt even the Volturi are aware of them.

Some Ground Rules For the Post

I don't see why vampires would have an innate ability to see Shinigami that humans lack. As a result, the Volturi are in the same boat everyone else is, they can't see a Shinigami unless they touch that Shinigami's notebook.

Also, per the manga, the Kira case takes place from 2003-2010, meaning that as Twilight is happening (or before if Aro and the gang somehow solve this faster than L would), the world is mired in the Kira case.

Bella would certainly have been talking about it in Twilight. As would Edward, as he once had his Kira foray as well if on a much smaller scale and with a lot more junkies.

For the sake of my nitpicky need to have everything line up, we're going to push Death Note back a few years, to the beginning of Twilight.

Also, we're taking out L. If L's there, Aro can rely on him doing most of the work for him and only show up at the end to either murder or turn Light once L's narrowed down exactly who it is. That's not really fair per the ask, we have to leave the Volturi on their own.

With that, let's start.

Kira Makes His Appearance

Light's appearance was by no means subtle, he wanted to be noticed immediately, but he also didn't want to be noticed as a human being.

He made no televised announcements, left no messages, sent in no letters saying, "I am God, tremble before me". Instead, he let his silence speak.

He killed via heart attacks those he considered having broken the law to some heinous degree and then he sat back and watch. The public dubbed him Kira first and he only became a confirmed presence, something more real than a specter and a human who could be caught and brought to justice, when he murdered Lind L. Taylor in a public spectacle.

But this is a world without L, which means no Lind L. Taylor, instead we have Volturi and company in Volterra, utterly unconcerned with the human world.

Of course, they immediately notice once an undeniable pattern becomes clear. Human criminals are dying en masse of heart attacks, someone is making a message. The question is, to what end?

Aro wouldn't immediately think this is a human. This kind of power, this kind of gift, to be able to seemingly kill any person in the world at any time no matter the distance, is something too strong for a human. It would be unheard of to have this much power as a human.

Which means Aro believes he's looking for a vampire breaking the law.

The trouble is, it's only humans. The newborn wars are raging as always, every major coven he's ever heard of remains untouched, and there's been no noticeable uptick of deaths among the vampire population.

The only difference to them is that more of them are dangerously close to breaking the law, as crime rates are now plummeting as criminals live in terror of a spiteful god who might strike them down at any moment. This makes murders performed by vampires, in certain areas, far more noticeable.

(As Light is probably killing off known gang leaders, drug lords, etc. left and right, it's probably pandemonium in certain cities/countries. So vampires are probably alright in these places as I'm sure there's a lot of murder going on as survivors try to fill the power vacuum.)

Still, the Volturi have to put their heads together and try to think why any vampire would do this? To what end would they murder all these humans, in such a noticeable manner, and not even to eat their victims?

Aro concludes he's looking for a very young vampire, likely newborn, someone who still thinks of himself as very human and beholden to human society and who isn't aware of Volterra or else does not consider them a threat.

The Volturi Investigators

I think Aro's going to take the lead on this one. There's his gift, obviously, but he'd by far have the most interest.

Caius would be upset by the nerve of Kira, but he has no patience to track him down either when it becomes exceedingly obvious that this is going to be tricky. That, and it just doesn't seem like his thing to me. He's going to mostly sit this one out.

As for Marcus, he's not up to it.

Which makes Aro our lead detective.

The Investigation

Like L, the first thing they do is try to pinpoint the first deaths. There was the immediate deluge, of course, but that screams of confidence in this assassination gift.

Kira likely needed practice to perfect his gift or even realize he had it at all. There's going to be a first victim and it will probably be messy.

Given enough investigation, this probably leads Aro to Japan, where a man taking children hostage suddenly dies in the middle of the hostage situation when televised on national TV (though not outside of Japan). Given that Kira's a vampire, he could have moved from where he started quite easily, but Aro's willing to bet he's still somewhere in Japan.

What Aro does know is that Kira's keeping close to human society. Kira will be reading human papers, watching human television constantly, and appears to be very well-informed concerning his future victims. Both locally as well as internationally. Kira is likely still in a human settlement.

So, the first thing Aro does is look for an unusual number of casualties in any city or town in Japan. Kira will probably be in the newborn phase, may truly be only a few months old, and given his actions has probably been abandoned by his sire. Even if he has unusually high control, he's got to eat sometime, and thanks to his own actions the murder rate in major cities is way down.

Except... there's no uptick.

Crime, murder, in Japan is universally on a downwards trend. Major cities like Tokyo and small rural villages it's all the same, there's nothing noticeable.

Kira either isn't in Japan or... he's not eating.

Aro wonders if, perhaps this assassination gift of his, somehow feeds Kira. He is, after all, stealing life. He does it via heart attacks but maybe, somehow, the very act of stealing life is all Kira needs. Perhaps he doesn't have to drink blood due to this.

This blows Aro's mind for a few days but eventually he decides that, no, he's never heard of this. True, he's never heard of this gift either, but all vampires drink blood. Even Carlisle, who drinks animal blood, still drinks blood and suffers great negative effects for his avoidance of a natural diet.

Kira the vampire must still eat.

Which means, in the absence of any other explanation... Kira's not a vampire. Kira is likely a very gifted human.

Aro's mind is blown again because Holy Fuck, what a gift. Kira has blown Jane and Alec, who were only immediately noticeable in their own village, completely out of the water.

Except, the trouble is, neither Aro nor anyone else in the Volturi is a detective. Aro knows enough about human society to pay his taxes, to hire secretaries, and keep on the up and up, but he doesn't actually solve human crimes.

What he's looked for for thousands of years are vampires who break the law: and they have certain patterns, motivations, etc. that are more or less easy to spot. More, the entire point of his law is that, if Aro notices then it means you broke it. There are those that can and do fly under his radar.

How is he supposed to find a gifted human who can kill anyone in the world any time he pleases? From a brief perusal of Japanese news, there's no one immediately obvious as gifted or strange by local papers.

From earlier killings, Aro notes that Kira doesn't seem to kill between 8 in the morning to 4 pm, which might make him a student but also could mean he's working those hours.

And even if he is a student? How in the world is Aro supposed to touch the hand of every student in the entire country of Japan? Aro, who makes it a point not to navigate the human world.

Aro Calls in the Expert

When you want to hang out with the humans, there's only one vampire to call: Carlisle Cullen. As we're setting this in early Twilight, neither Eclipse nor Breaking Dawn have happened. To the Cullens, and Carlisle, Aro is simply a wise king and Carlisle's old friend.

And I'm sure Carlisle has been watching the Kira case very closely and is very disturbed by the entire thing. Kira's methods are very much not Carlisle's m.o.

Aro gives Carlisle what he knows: Kira's probably a gifted human, probably somewhere in Japan, probably in school, and has access to an extensive amount of human media.

That's it.

That's all Aro's got.

As for the police at large, without L, they haven't even narrowed it down to Japan yet.

Carlisle points out that, as much as he hangs out with humans, he doesn't think he could find the needle in the haystack either. However, he definitely wants to help in any way he can.

However, they do have something. Aro can't touch the hand of everyone in Japan, however, Edward can unobtrusively listen to a much larger segment of the population.

(Alice is off the table as she's best able to see the future of those close to her. Without knowing who Kira even is, let alone being close to him, she has no idea what he's going to even do next. She's likely very frustrated by this.)

Surely, whoever Kira is, he or she will be contemplating their victims more often than not. It's a long shot, but Edward might be able to find that needle in a haystack.

How's Edward Feel About That?

Edward's extremely conflicted. On the one hand, he doesn't want to disappoint Carlisle, and this is the first time Carlisle has ever asked him for a favor of this magnitude. And, in theory, Carlisle is right, all creatures are worthy of life.

On the other hand, Edward's on Team Kira. He thinks these rapist, murderer, pigs all deserve to die and is rooting for Kira to put the fear of God into them. Emphasizing this is when Bella was nearly raped in Port Angeles, but her would be rapist suddenly remembered himself and vomited in terror at the idea that he might be next should he get caught raping her. (As it is, Edward catches him, and a few weeks later he dies of a heart attack in prison. Edward pops the champagne).

More, if Edward goes to Japan, it means he has to leave Bella. Bella has proven she cannot survive without his personal protection. More, he's not sure he can survive without her presence. He can hardly contemplate the idea of leaving Bella, though he ultimately must, but to do so soon? He though he'd have a few more years, likely until they graduate, but now he and the family would have to move all the way to Japan in a matter of days.

Not to mention this would be letting Aro know that Edward's... not technically breaking the law but not not breaking the law either. Bella clearly suspects he's not human, she just doesn't have the right word.

And then to give Kira up to the Volturi? To have his activities stopped, to be turned and placed into the guard, or else murdered? Edward feels like he'd be selling out the brother he never knew.

But also Carlisle and imagining Carlisle's sad, disappointed, face.

Edward says yes but he really wants to say no.

He sneaks into Bella's room in the middle of the night, and for the first time, makes her aware of his presence. He tells her that regretfully he must leave her, he's off to do a man's work and catch Kira, and that they will never see each other again.

Then to Edward's horror and disappointment, Bella's completely on board for Edward catching Kira and thinks it's the noblest thing he could do. Charlie, being a chief of police, utterly despises Kira and Bella carries forward this sentiment. People deserve the due process of law, not being murdered off by some jackass conning people into believing he's a god.

Bella wishes him luck and tells him to return as soon as he can.

Edward just numbly says he won't be returning. This really is it. Goodbye forever.

Bella's utterly broken (though not nearly as much as canon as Edward didn't dump her for being boring).

Edward in Japan

Well, turns out, Edward's not actually that useful. There's a few problems.

First, there are a lot of people out there claiming to be Kira, or even convincing themselves that they're Kira. They do this to brag, to feel special, for any number of reasons.

None of them are Kira.

Second, Edward can only go out on cloudy days or at night, this severely limits when he can wander the streets and the people he'll run into. More, even if he starts with Tokyo, Tokyo's a big place. That's a lot of wandering to do.

Third, say that Edward does come across Light Yagami. Edward immediately dismisses him as being utterly insane. See, Light Yagami is talking to his imaginary friend, Ryuk, bickering about which apples they should buy from the store. Edward sees the giant clown demon that Light believes only he can see and goes, "Ah, another lunatic, cheerio."

Edward does not find Kira.

The Investigation Continues

Aro likely keeps Edward at it for months. It doesn't matter how long it takes, they're going to track down Kira and they're going to find him. It might take years, but dammit, they'll find him. Edward despairs that he will ever be able to go back to normal life.

Luckily for the gang, Bella saves their bacon.

Bella, ruminating on Edward's mission and on Kira, starts doing her own internet investigation. She doesn't get very far, but she does have those prophetic dreams to help her out.

Bella has a seriously weird dream about the moon, night gods, Kira, demons that look like giant crows, notebooks, and Light Yagami's face. Somehow, just as in canon with vampires, Bella's able to somehow put this together.

She calls up Edward (as they parted on more amiable terms, and so quickly, Edward did not yet disconnect his number) and tells him that Kira's name is Light Yagami, he's attending the University of Tokyo as the top student, and his murder weapon is an evil notebook.

How does she know this?

She looked it up on the internet.

Well, Edward isn't sure how to take that, but he also has nothing to lose. They find Light Yagami, Aro shakes his hand, and holy shit, Bella Swan was right. (Aro now decrees that she will be turned, much to Edward's horror and insistence that she has no idea he's a vampire, and has plans to recruit her for his guard).

What Are We Going to Do About Light?

Well, on the one hand, Aro discovered a new species today that he can do nothing about. Luckily, they seem to have their own laws that have more or less the same result as the Volturi laws: don't get noticed.

On the other hand, he's disappointed that this all-powerful gift was not a gift at all.

On the other other hand, Light does not seem to be an ordinary human. He's... lucky, for lack of a better term. No, it's more that he doesn't need luck, he somehow has such an awareness of everything around him that he assimilates it perfectly into his own plans. As if he can manipulate the very universe to his favor.

That's intriguing and useful, and in any other situation, Aro would jump on taking that chance and at least seeing what happens.

So the question becomes, does Aro turn Light or not? On the one hand, that's a useful gift, on the other hand, this kid's a loose cannon and a lunatic.

This Kira thing cannot continue, and Light, even as a vampire, would likely insist on continuing it somehow.

Luckily, there's a solution to this.

Aro burns the notebook, much to Ryuk's protesting despair. Light loses his memories of Ryuk, the notebook, and having been Kira. Before Light even knows what's happening, Aro turns him.

Three days later, Light wakes up a very confused vampire, gets the Volturi pitch with Chelsea there to help loosen bonds, and accepts a position in the guard to, oddly enough, stop those like Kira.

Aro's confused, but hey, they'll see how this Light thing works out. Aro also likely tells himself that he will watch for Ryuk trying to drop Light another notebook like a hawk.

The Kira case is never solved for humans: Kira just disappears one day as if he never existed. As for Light, I imagine he plots the destruction of the newborn armies, and Caius watches in utter fascination as this kid ruthlessly exterminates them all.

Bella is shortly turned into a vampire, much to Edward's despair, and due to the giant mess of this is also likely recruited to Volterra.

How Long Does This Take?

Given the need for the Volturi to first investigate, then Edward, I give them at least a year. Maybe a year and a half.

And really, it's Bella who saves their bacon.

[shockinteague]

            MICHAELA ‘MICKS’ TEAGUE.

the perfect word to describe micks teague is unhinged. at her birth, her mother either played a sick joke or genuinely had no idea that nicknaming her child something dangerously close to the town mayor’s name would be detrimental in their development. it came with no bullying from their peers, because they were all afraid of her, but micks resented both her name and her nickname. and, of course, her mother, because she left the three of them to their own devices on jasper skellington’s doorstep. she considers herself more of a menace than sadie teague ever could be, and tries her best to live up to the teague name, solidifying her status as a crazy, chaotic bitch with a penchant for violence just for the heck of it. she’s crazy, and you’ll absolutely hate her for it.

inspired by; bellatrix lestrange ( harry potter ) , stormy ( winx club ) , myranda ( game of thrones) , clove ( the hunger games ) , edward hyde ( the strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde ) , the queen of hearts ( 2010 alice in wonderland ) .

GENERAL.

BIRTH NAME. michaela teague. NICKNAMES. micks. DATE OF BIRTH.  november 1st. AGE. 23. GENDER. demi female. PRONOUNS. she / they. SPECIES. 3/4 human, 1/4 demon. POWERS. brief bursts of spirit control. PLACE OF BIRTH. an alley on the outskirts of elias. CURRENT RESIDENCE. wherever she can. OCCUPATION. high school dropout, tattoo & piercing artist.

APPEARANCE.

HEIGHT. 5′6" BUILD. average, slim. HAIR COLOUR/STYLE. dyed blonde / straight ish, cut herself, usually worn loose.  EYE COLOUR. brown. GLASSES/CONTACTS. neither. PIERCINGS / TATTOOS. many in her earlobes / many. FACECLAIM. sophie thatcher. VOICECLAIM. sophie thatcher.

HEALTH.

PHYSICAL AILMENTS. anorexic. ALLERGIES. n/a. SLEEPING HABITS. night owl, usually only gets and needs 5 to 6 hours. EATING HABITS. lots of takeout, not picky at all. BODY TEMPERATURE. permanently cold. DOMINANT HAND. left. DRUGS / SMOKE / ALCOHOL. yes / yes / yes.

PERSONALITY.

TROPES. ax-crazy, hair-trigger temper, one-woman army. POSITIVE TRAITS. ambitious, creative, precise. NEGATIVE TRAITS. impulsive, temperamentful, irrational. USUAL MOOD. aggressive, chaotic. LIKES. causing chaos and mischief, exercising, drawing. DISLIKES. goody two shoes, the law, her mother. BAD HABITS. chews her lip, eyes sometimes involuntarily roll into the back of her head.

RELATIONSHIPS.

MOTHER. sadie teague ( biological ) , victoria everglot - skellington ( adoptive / foster ) . FATHER. unnamed drunk client ( biological ) , jasper skellington ( adoptive / foster ) . SIBLINGS. rafaella & gabriella teague. BIRTH ORDER. middle. CHILDREN. n/a. GRAND-CHILDREN. n/a. SIGNIFICANT OTHER. n/a. CLOSEST FRIENDS. wes skellington, tba.

TESTS.

zodiac sign. scorpio. temperament. choleric. hogwarts house. slytherin. moral alignment. chaotic evil. primary vice. wrath. primary virtue. diligence.

SKILLS & STATS.

LANGUAGES SPOKEN. english. DRIVE. yes. JUMP START A CAR. yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE. yes. RIDE A BICYCLE. yes. SWIM. no. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT. no. PLAY CHESS. no. BRAID HAIR. yes. TIE A TIE. no. PICK A LOCK. yes. SEW. no.

COMPASSION. 3/10.

EMPATHY. 3/10.

CREATIVITY. 9/10.

MENTAL FLEXIBILITY. 8/10.

PASSION. 8/10.

LUCK. 4/10

MOTIVATION. 5/10.

EDUCATION. 4/10.

INTELLIGENCE. 5/10.

CHARISMA. 4/10.

REFLEXES. 7/10.

WILLPOWER. 8/10.

STAMINA. 8/10.

PHYSICAL STRENGTH. 7/10.

BATTLE SKILL. 7/10.

INITIATIVE. 7/10.

RESTRAINT. 2/10.

STRATEGY. 6/10.

TEAM WORK. 6/10.

[thesquidkid]

So my favourite cartoon growing up just got renewed for a 4th season and I wanna properly talk about it. It’s called ‘Foot 2 Rue’ (you might recognize from me talking about it every occasion I can lmao), and this is what I have to say about it, about the reboot, and about the fourth season.

First of all, what is foot 2 rue? It’s a French/Italian show that follows 7 kids (5 at first) that play street football in the fictional town of Port-Marie. Their team name is ‘Les Bleus’, and they are aged 11-14. This show originally aired 2005-2010, with the reboot airing 2014-2015 and the 4th season starting in 2022. I will first talk about the original 3 seasons, then the reboot, and finally the fourth season.

Now, why is it my favourite cartoon, and how did it impact my life so much? (putting this under a cut for people who don't want to see one of my rants about foot 2 rue) Here you can find more information of the show

Well, for starters, let’s talk about the three rules of foot 2 rue: “Amitié, respect, solidarité!” or in English: friendship, respect, solidarity. The fourth unofficial rule (tho it is repeatedly pointed out) is that each team must have at least one girl. These ‘rules’ meant that as a kid, I played football with the guys, putting backpacks on the ground to make the goals. It teaches kids that you should treat others with respect, that you should help each other out, be nice to one another, and that girls can play with boys too if they want.

Another aspect that makes this show so special to me and to many other kids, is one that I only really realised once I was older. Diversity. These kids, who play football all together, come from many different backgrounds. And I don’t just mean diversity when it comes to skin colour. We have kids who are orphans, or whose parents are divorced, or whose parents are busy with work. We see kids who feel left out because they are the eldest of 10, or kids who are only children yet their parents aren’t much present. We have kids who were raised by grandparents, or raised in an institute. Some of the kids live in a homeless shelter, others live in council housing. Some kids are disabled, whether that be physically or mentally. The one thing they all have in common? Football.

I am lucky enough that when I was a child, I didn’t really realise that there was such prejudice against other people, simply because they are different. My parents raised me to look at everybody the same, to treat everyone with the same respect. And as a kid, I never questioned why my friends were different, they just were.

But then I started middle school, where I got bullied for being different. And that sucked. But I also made really good friends there, people who had also watched foot 2 rue growing up, people who didn’t see differences as a weakness but as a strength instead. One of the girl who bullied me started off as my friend, and I may be a small insignificant thing, but I know that her parents didn’t let her watch this cartoon growing up because it would be a bad influence on her.

Now, I may be naive to believe that such a little cartoon could impact people into respecting others, but I believe it does indeed make a change.

One of my cousin’s classmates was in a wheelchair, and I remember clearly the day we watched the episode where one of the kids who plays football is also in a wheelchair. Because she drew the kid that was on the tv and gave it to her friend.

I could go on and on for days, talking about the major and minor characters in depth, and maybe one day I will. The characters all have layers to them, their personalities are so distinctive, yet they cover a pretty large ground when it comes to representation. I’m pretty sure that if everyone here watched it, you would relate strongly to at least one character, major or minor.

So, you can see how foot 2 rue is such a great show and how it impacted me so much, right? Okay, now let's talk about the reboot.

Foot 3 rue extrême. Or as my cousin likes to call it, the "bland" foot 2 rue. Because we went from a show that put forward diversity, telling kids that it was okay to be different, that you could even find strength in being different to a show that was mostly only about winning.

We went from a show which was mostly about kids of colour, kids from all sorts of backgrounds, to a show that was moslty about white rich kids.

When I say the reboot is moslty about winning, I don’t mean that the original wasn’t. Les Bleus were twice world champions, and they didn’t often lose a game, we saw them lose in other aspects. Many episodes centered around the captain, Tag, an orphan, looking for a father figure. We saw these kids be kids. They argued, and made dumb choices, and cried. But together, as a team, they fought back, they won, they laughed.

In my opinion, the reboot feels like the studio wanted to tone it down, to please a greater audience. And to make it more interesting, they added the idea of a challenge before each game. These challenges, once again imo, make it less ‘real’. What I mean by that, is that foot 2 rue was about taking 4 backpacks or coats to create goals. Or using pre-existing objects, like benches or bushes. It was about a game that kids have always, and will always play: street football.

There are no rules in street football, only to show respect. On the other hand, the reboot and the challenges meant you needed preparation, you needed rules and perhaps even an audience.

The main reason why I am not a fan of the reboot is that the characters seem to lack layers. Which is ironic considering the original is in 2D and the reboot in 3D. I don’t like the reboot in many ways, but I won’t shit on people who enjoy it, everyone has different taste.

Now, talking about the fourth season. So far I have only watched the first 2 episodes, but I needed to write this out while I still had it in mind. It supposedly takes place a few months after the end of season 3, though there are some major changes, like the presence of smartphones. We follow a minor character, P’tit Dragon, as he takes the lead of Les Bleus and builds his own team.

We are back in Port-Marie (the reboot takes place somewhere else, can’t really recall where) with the same background characters. The locations are the same: the institute, the marketplace, the old port etc (oh I forgot to add, the reboot only takes place in the building site of a shopping center). The drawings are back in 2D, in a similar style (which is totally bringing me back to childhood).

And most importantly, we are back with a show that puts forward diversity.

[collisiondiscourse]

Man, why does it feel like the threshold for success has a time limit? I always feel like if I'm not an insanely popular artist or powerful influencer by the time I turn eighteen, then I am an utter failure and a waste of my teenage years. I think one of the biggest pitfalls of how the generation of kids today has been raised is that we've basically been socialized to think that our best achievements have to come in our youth or else they become virtually worthless.

Like... Oh? you're a talented pianist and played in front of an auditorium of hundreds at an opera house? how old were you when that happened?

A forty-seven-year-old would be met with a few impressed nods, maybe, and people congratulating them for all their hard work and experience.

A fourteen-year-old would get news articles. they'd go viral on the internet and thousands of people would be clambering over each other to sing praises of how they were blessed with such innate talent.

I get it. It's impressive, right? Because they're young and haven't had plenty of years of experience. These kids, by all means, deserve all the praise and attention for working hard to get where they were!

But that's not the case, is it? And the culture of people putting more credit for young people's achievements doesn't even fuckin end there.

Because not only does this exact same pattern happen with literally every single thing ever, even totally non-competitive hobbies like painting, it happens with such frequency that it's considered normal. Articles use age markers about successes to serve as clickbait for their articles. Cable companies start shows purely about young prodigies and how they've beaten their adult competitors. Because who wouldn't wanna hear about a ten-year-old chess champion, right?

And what's even worse is that it then becomes a competition even among young people themselves! You scroll down on a video of a pre-teen playing Winter Wind and I promise you there will be at least one asshole saying shit like "This kid is not impressive. I saw a nine year old do the same thing the other day!"

It eats away at you! It really fucking does! because we go down this stupid rabbit-hole wherein younger and younger kids get paraded around and raised to be prodigies and meanwhile here you are, sixteen, and having a panic attack because you can't go back in time and force your eight-year-old self to keep playing the violin. It's stressful. It aches. Instead of bringing up younger people around us, we're stuck in this miserable zone where we constantly get compared and pitted against each other because we couldn't "maximize our childhood".

Isn't it enough to just... exist?

There have already been many conversations on the nature of college. How it's utter BS that people have to choose what career they want for the rest of their lives as early as junior year in HS. But what a lot of people don't talk about is just how early people are forced to decide what hobbies they want to do for the rest of their lives. People who start learning how to play an instrument at 28 can't do so without constantly being questioned why they started so late. A drawing with decent coloring garners more credit and attention for the average tween than the struggling middle-aged woman, despite both having an equal amount of experience with visual arts.

Parents constantly tell their children to study harder, to practice more--to just keep on work, work, working until their children become the perfect model dolls they use flex to one another over brunch. It's constantly having your name be followed up by your latest achievement and not anything about who you are as a person.

"This is Codi. She is a straight-A student and got invited to compete at Harvard."

"This is Codi. She is on her school's math team and knows how to play the piano."

"This is Codi. She is--"

I am a human being, thank you.

It's never "This is Codi, and he loves fashion and losing at video games." or "This is Codi, and he likes listening to annoying pop songs from the early 2010s and laying down in the rain."

Why? because none of that matters! None of that is worth listening to because anything less than what I can do to represent my family, my school, my team, my country will never be anything more than a waste of time. It's toxic, how today's generation of teenagers have to be celebrities or important figures or champions or prodigies before they are people.

It gets worse, though.

People start counting your talents like tally marks for points. You can't "just be an artist" anymore. If you draw, then you also have to be good at writing. And poetry. And graphic design. And a sport. Oh, you only know one language? Oh, you've only learned the basics of the guitar? It's like a fucking marker, ticking off boxes to determine the worth of these teenagers on the marketability of their achievements.

And, okay, it's a misrepresentation to only blame parents, right? Because it's a systematic thing. A new societal expectation for kids to be the next fucking Renaissance--with peer pressure for things like relationship experience and wild stories too. We kids now worry about not being special enough, not phenomenal enough, or beautiful enough, or talented enough, or smart enough, or experienced enough. And it's weird!

It's weird how teens now flex how tired and burnt out they are! It's weird how I've had conversations that turned into competitions of how many bullshit responsibilities we have on our plate. It's weird how I've met kids on the honor roll that are so adamant to prove to people that they've gone to parties, had alcohol, and slept around.

It's a goddamn tragedy, watching so many of my peers turning into burnouts before they've even graduated high school.

We are expected to be the most. If that one singer could do it, if that one global warming activist could do it, if that one Olympic athlete could do it--then why can't you? Why can't you have over 20.7k followers on Twitter? Why can't you have started your own band and release a popular album? Why can't you have published your own book by now? Why can't you be good enough?

I sit here, typing away at this stupid post and being unhappy and feeling like I am not good enough. I am an artist. I am a writer. I speak more than one language and play more than one instrument. I used to be a straight-A student and nationally competed in maths and sciences competitions. I am an international finalist for my sport and have multiple gold medals from foreign countries.

Yet still, I feel like my timer is running short.

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 21-24

Summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast. friends to lovers, case of the week style story.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

A/N; thee case in c21 is personal to me, like fictional revenge.

word count so far: 70K (chapter 1-25)

chapter 21

Having Spencer all to herself for 3 weeks straight was an experience she’ll never forget. They had the whole month of January off together, painting and re-decorating their home till it was exactly how they wanted it. It felt like home, it was theirs for real now.

Painting the bedroom green was the best idea she’s ever had. When the sun finally woke them up every morning, it wasn’t as blinding. It was paradise. The golden beams of light cast a beautiful glow around the room, it was like she was in a magic forest at the start of every day.

Spencer was laying on his back, his hair scattered on the pillow. He looked so peaceful, sleeping with his mouth wide open. Y/N was leaning on her elbow, looking down at the beautiful man she had the pleasure of spending the rest of her life with.

She brushed the hair off his face, watching his nose scrunch up as he felt her fingertips on his cheek. The sun on his face made him glow, he looked like a gift from god laying before her.

“Good morning baby,” she whispered softly. Dragging her finger along his jaw and down his neck, “we get to go to work today.”

Spencer stretched as he woke up, slipping an arm under her and pulling her into his chest. She held on tight, kissing his neck as she settled in. “Morning,” he replied. Raspy as ever.

“Wanna go get breakfast?” She asked softly.

He laughed against her skin, “gotta feed the baby.”

“And the wiiiife,” she teased.

“Not for another 11 weeks and 2 days,” he corrected her. “But yes, we should go get breakfast,” he whispered after a moment.

“Come on get up,” she replied with a big smile. He patted her ass as she peeled out of his grasp. Sitting up and stretching, taking a look down at the basketball protruding from her stomach. “Damn.”

“What?” Spencer asked.

She stood up beside the bed and pulled her shirt up, showing Spencer how big her stomach was. Turning sideways so he really got a good look at it. Spencer leaned over and kissed her right on her belly button that was beginning to pop.

“I know your ears are on in there, I love you, Matthew,” Spencer whispered against her skin.

She couldn’t stop smiling, taking a moment to rub her hands over the bump in amazement. “Hi Mr. Matty MaGoo, mommy also loves you.”

“Mr. Matty MaGoo?” Spencer laughed, looking at her with the biggest smile.

“Yes,” She laughed. “It just came to me, and it's going to stick.”

“Derek’s been calling him Mini G,” Spencer added.

“We should tell him it's Matthew, then he can be little Matty G,” Y/N swooned. “Seriously let’s go I miss everyone.”

“Okay, okay go get ready then,” he insisted, getting out of bed and dragging her to the bathroom.

—

Spencer drove, giving her a chance to look over her work emails before the day started. She was still CC’d on a bunch of VICAP things, being able to snoop on what was coming in and inspecting it.

Sometimes Mindy would CC her in just for an opinion.

Subject: Found Something. From; Mindy Patel To; SSA Y/N Y/L/N, Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA-CL Jennifer Jareau

There’s been a child abduction in Arizona, I’ve pieced together some thing’s I’ve been working on in the background that might help the case if you are called in to assist. Even if you are not I believe you should take a look at this.

Mindy Patel, VICAP.

Attachment

Year: 1998 Victim 1: Emily Lawrence - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 1998. Williams, AZ Found: June 10th, 2001. Camp Verde, AZ ME: decay has he placed at 48 hours postmortem when she was found - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2001 Victim 2: Olivia Tomms - 13. Kept till 16 Taken: August 3rd, 2001. Payson, AZ Found: June 23rd, 2004. Florence, AZ ME: decay has her at about 2 weeks postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2004 Victim 3: Shelby Summers - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 2004. Peach Springs, AZ Found: July 16th, 2007. Keams, AZ ME: decay has her at over a month postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.

Year: 2007 Victim 4: Beth Green - 11. Kept till 13 Taken: August 3rd, 2007. Saint John, AZ Found: January 13th, 2010. @ flagstaff hospital. ME: COD complications from a miscarriage. Massive blood loss. - well taken care of. Throat damage. Signs of being detained long term. Info:good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped with remorse like he didn’t want her to die, and he felt sorry because he loved her.

Newest abduction: Name: Sally Irvine - 12 Taken: February 3rd, 3pm. Middle School pick-up (missing 13 hours now) Witness Report: Italian/greek man. Early 30’s. Claimed to be her parents assistant. Sally was used to going home with random people from her parents' work. Handsome man, very charming and convincing. He wore a suit and drove a Silver Honda Civic. Rust at the back, partial plate HC8.

“Fuck,” Y/N cried silently as she scrolled through all the information, even in a compact form.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, looking over at her with concern.

“Um,” she didn’t really know why she was reacting like this at first. Then it hit her. “Mindy sent me a case and it’s hitting a little too close to home.”

“Would you like to explain it yet? It’s okay if you want to process it alone,” Spencer comforted her easily like it was his second nature.

She let out a deep breath. “There’s a serial killer in Arizona that is kidnapping girls between 11 and 13, only keeping them 3 years. Every ME report says they have extensive internal throat damage, and 3 of the 4 found were never pregnant. This unsub is forcing them into oral for 3 years straight.”

“Fuck,” Spencer agreed. “I think we should take this one, if you can’t I would fully understand.”

“I think the unsub is my rapist.”

Spencer pulled over onto the side of the road. Putting the car in park and flashing the 4-ways. He turned to her softly and looked at her with a blank face.

“Walk me through it.”

“What?”

“If I’m going to go in there with you and tell Hotch that this is the same guy who hurt you, then you’re going to need to explain it to him and the team,” Spencer explained softly. “You’ve never even told me the full story, I don’t know anything about that summer other than the fact something happened. The first time you repeat this in front of me is going to be hard, and I don’t want you to have to do that in front of all of them.”

She couldn’t help herself from letting out a small sob, “okay.”

She took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and calm down enough to get full words out of her mouth.

“When I was 12,” she started. “My mom went back to work, and she didn’t trust me to watch my brothers because they were rowdy and never listened to me. Like you said, they were more like my older brothers.

“My dad’s best friend, Jimmy, his wife had MS so she was home all the time. They had 3 older children and a few foster boys, she was used to lots of kids being there. And she had a pool to keep us occupied,” she bit her lip before she explained anymore.

“My mom’s birthday is June 8th. That’s when victim 1 was murdered,” was the first fact she explained that related to the case. She handed Spencer her phone so he could read and follow along.

“My dad is a Mason with the Masonic Lodge in Los Vegas, and he was becoming the master of his division on my mom's birthday that year, so we rented a hall and had a big party. Jimmy’s foster son was there, you remember Christopher Torsey? He was a freshman and I was in grade 6, about to enter grade 7, that was when the grooming started. He took me into the back room and asked if anyone had ever kissed me, I said no. He leaned in and kissed me in the dark and I was a giggly mess.

“My parents and his were really friends and he would come over all the time, our dads would drink in the backyard with our mothers till 1 in the morning most weekends. So I spent long periods of time with this boy for a few years, trusting him like a friend before he started anything. That summer he would always find a way to wander off with me, at first it was just kissing in different places where we could be alone together. Then he would touch my boobs, and he had me take my shirt off a few times.”

Spencer looked calm, but the redness in his face and the pulse in his neck told a different story. Her breathing got heavier as she had to recall it all, and she didn’t want him to be so upset.

“We worked at a local church camp together that July, we’d do crafts and sing songs and after all the kids left and we had to clean up, he’d find a way to take me to the room where they held the nativity scene out of season. He’d start kissing and touching me like normal, and then Kendra walked in once and saw and suddenly he went from obsessed with me, to disgusted, saying I came on to him and that it was all me. He was disgusted by me when we were in public, but he loved me apparently behind closed doors.”

“On August 3rd,” a tear slipped down her cheek. “The day the girls go missing. That was the first time he took me back to the shed and said ‘when two people are in love, they do things, and I love you. So you have to,’ He took his, you know, and I’d never seen one before. It was scary and I didn’t want to, I wanted to leave, but he pushed me against the wall and down to my knees.” She had to stop to take a breath, Spencer was crying silently as he watched her explain it all.

“He kept me trapped there while he did it,” she explained. “The worst part is that his parents were hosting a wedding that night, so no one could hear me basically screaming no over the music. He knew that. And so, when I complained about the sore throat the next day, my parents thought it was from all the singing.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, he looked at her with so much love and sadness, she knew he loved her. She reached across the centre console and wiped the tears off his face, pecking his lips softly before sitting back to continue.

“The dates match up, he was Italian, they’re all 11-13 with throat damage,” she ran it down. “It’s him.”

Spencer licked his lips, wiping the tears off his face before taking a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go tell Hotch.”

Aaron stood up from his desk after Y/N explained the situation, walking up close to her with a sad smile on his face, “this was a very hard thing to come forward with. How would you like to participate in the investigation?” He was soft with her for the first time, it was surreal.

“Um, I’d like to come with you to Arizona,” she said softly. “when Garcia finds him, I’d like to be the one to interview him.”

“Do you think that is a wise idea?” He asked softly.

“When I was 16, years after everything happened. I went to Jimmy’s house for an event, and Christopher was there, and I went to his room. I was so desperate for the bullying to stop. For the lies, he had told about me to go away, that I went in there and apologized to him,” her voice almost disappeared as she got to the end of the sentence. Crying in disbelief. “2 years later he started abducting. I apologized to my rapist and he started kidnapping girls. I need to look him in the eyes and find out why he did it.”

“Okay, let’s tell the team.”

Y/N and Garcia spent an hour building the case files and compiling all the data they had on Christopher Torsey. Joining the team in the briefing room, where Spencer had already relayed the events to the team. Y/N didn’t need to describe it all 3 times in 2 hours.

She passed all the folders out, trying to avoid the looks the team gave her. They were sorry, they respected her, they wanted revenge for her. She knew it all came from a place of love, however, she hated being perceived by others.

It was a trauma thing. For so long people had the wrong idea about her, she was bullied and put down, and hated for no reason. She hates any form of attention, the glances and staring, the whispers of rumours being told as fact. It was stressful.

“Before we start,” she started softly. “Thank you in advance for your concerns, but I’ve been in therapy for 10 years. I’m very happy, this is gonna fuckin’ suck, but at the end of the day I’m coming home to a man who loves me, a baby on the way, and the best friends I can ask for. He’s going to prison. I win.”

Derek smiled at her, “that’s my girl. What did you find?”

“Christopher Torsey was born in November of 1979. His father was extremely abusive, he was in the ER a lot by the time he was 11. His mother killed herself in front of him when he was 12, he also watched his father rape his mother according to his child therapist,” Garcia started. Not knowing how to say the next part without Y/N crying.

“He uh, he said that his dad would tell his mom to be quiet. That-uh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you say this?”

Y/N stepped in without a second thought. “He said that his father would hold the fact that he loved her over her head to force her into having sex with him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“He’s our guy for sure. Do we have an address?” Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, he lives in a double-wide trailer in Cottonwood. Near the back with his own access to the main road,” Y/N explained. “I knew he moved to Arizona when Jimmy finally kicked him out. I haven’t heard from him in years.”

“Y/N is coming with us, wheels up in 20.”

—

Cottonwood PD waited for them to arrive before apprehending him. They were concerned that he would run, with his access to the woods and a four-wheeler in his possession, it was a matter of boxing him in quietly with a backup plan in place and men on the ground.

“Can I suggest something?” Y/N cut into the Police Chief and Hotch’s conversation.

“Sure.”

“Um, what if I walk up in our civilian clothes, and just pretend that we’re there to rub it in his face that I'm happy and in love,” Y/N suggested. “I can wear a wire, you can be in a surveillance van listening in. You’ll be right there if we see Sally or sense something’s up.”

“Are you sure you can do that?” Hotch asked her.

“I am,” she turned to Spencer, “if you can control your temper you can come. If not, I’ll show up with Derek and still rub it in his face that someone loves me now.”

Spencer sighed deeply as he contemplated it. “I’ll kill him,” he admitted. “Take Derek.”

“Let’s get suited up,” Derek patted Spencer’s shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt her again. Don’t worry.”

“I know.” Spencer looked disappointed.

Everyone left the room, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug resting her face against his chest. He softly held her in return, rubbing his hands along her back with his cheek on her head.

“I love you, forever and always,” She reminded him. “And I know how much you love me, believe me. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I didn’t truly believe Chris was wrong.”

She pulled back when she felt a tear on her head. She wiped it softly with her thumb as he leaned his cheek into her palm. “I am loveable, and you love me. I win.”

He laughed softly, “I won too.”

She pulled him into a soft kiss, “I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

“I’ll be in the van watching the whole time, I love you so much,” he added for good measure.

She smiled as she walked away, throwing a fist in the air like the end of the breakfast club. Knowing full well he’d never get the reference. JJ on the other hand, laughed as she followed with Spencer.

They changed into regular clothes, getting in a car from the impound lot and following the surveillance van. Morgan was quiet, Y/N knew he wanted to talk to her, to go over the plan, but he didn’t know how to. The wire wouldn’t be on till they walked out, giving Y/N and Derek their privacy if he ever chose to speak.

“Did you ever confront your guy?” Y/N asked.

He nodded, “Carl Buford. I got to show him who I am now, that I put men like him behind bars. That I’ll always win.”

“Is it a good feeling?”

Derek set his hand palm up on the centre console, looking at her softly as if to ask her to take it. She interlocked their fingers, he rubbed his thumb against her skin.

“You’re right, it fucking sucks. The original pain never goes away, but there is a content feeling knowing he won’t get to hurt another person, that he might get his ass kicked in prison,” he smiled that beautiful Derek smile. “I’ll always be here for when you need someone who gets it.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

They pulled into the trailer park slowly, separating from the team as they approached Christopher’s trailer. “Just pretend you’re Spencer, treat me the way he would. I know Spencer tells you everything, go off of memory of what he’s said about me.”

“You know he tells me everything?” Derek asked softly, laughing a little to himself.

“Because he also tells me everything,” she smirked. “When he’s tired and he rambles, he tells me about his whole day and that includes when he asks you for advice.”

“You two are gross,” he smiled. “I hope I can replicate it.”

“Come on,” she laughed, getting out of the car and waiting for Derek at the hood.

She took his hand before walking up to the door, a hand on her belly to make it look bigger. Really wanting to show off that she was in a better place than he was.

She knocked, 3 times, stepping back so he could open the door. She didn’t feel scared, she felt anxious in excitement to watch Derek take him to the floor.

“Y/N?” She heard his voice for the first time in 13 years. “What are you doing here?”

“My therapist suggested that I come here and show you someone actually did end up loving me, regardless of what you said,” she explained.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he panicked, flashing his eyes back and forth between her and Derek.

“I can come in and explain it for you if you’d like?” Y/N smiled. “You’ve got nothing to hide I assume? I’m just wildly obsessed with you and a liar right? That’s what you told everyone so I wouldn’t be able to say you forced my head on your dick with the promise that you loved me.”

“I- I uh,” he stuttered. Starting to shake lightly.

“That’s what you do to all the girls, isn’t it, Chris?” Derek cut in, pulling the screen door open and watching as Christopher ran to the back of the house. “We got a runner!!” He announced to the wire.

Y/N didn’t run after him, she knew the team had him. She walked through the house to watch from the back door. Only to find Spencer stiff-arming him.

Christopher flipped over Spencer’s arm, hitting the ground before Spencer was on top of him. Spencer punched him in the face, once, twice, three times before he stopped. Sitting over the unconscious man as he caught his breath. Everyone just watched him. He rolled Christopher over, cuffed him and walked away into the woods.

Y/N carefully jogged into the yard, passing the bleeding and groaning asshole she used to know as she ran after Spencer. He was walking too fast, and he didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” She yelled at him as if she was his mother. “Stop.”

He stopped abruptly, huffing as he did so. He only turned around to face her when she finally caught up to him. “Don’t touch me yet,” he instructed her.

“Okay,” she stopped a foot in front of him. “Look at me, breathe. In and out.” She used her hands as she motioned a breath in, and a release out. She repeated it 4 times, watching him do the same.

“Can I hug you now?” She asked softly.

He nodded, stepping into her space and wrapping himself around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It was actually really appreciated,” she laughed. “I was debating if having a baby at 22 weeks was worth punching him in the face a few times.”

Spencer laughed softly into her shoulder. Squeezing her in his grasp as he breathed her in. “I love you.”

“I love you, more,” she smiled against his neck before pressing a soft kiss to his ever-beating pulse. “Let’s go see the team, come on.”

Y/N was adamant about searching the trailer with the team. Going to the surveillance van for a vest and gloves while Christopher was taken to the police station, and Spencer had his hand wrapped up.

It still smelled like him in there. The smell of his detergent mixed with smoke from the fireplace. It never changed. She noticed his PlayStation was on, he was still interested in games. He still slept with the brown comforter that was on his bed when she was 12. It was worn down, holes gathered at the bottom as it was almost see-through now.

She opened the closet to see a very large metal safe in its place. She took a deep breath, looking at the keypad to see what numbers had been worn down the most, guessing his password.

0803

It popped open, it made her feel sick to her stomach. As she opened it, she heard the muffled screams behind duck tape. Sally Irvine was tied up, hunched over in a tiny metal box while he played GTA.

She wanted to kill him.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” she shushed the girl. “Sally, my name is Y/N. We’re here to take you home, you're safe now.”

Y/N took the tape off Sally’s mouth softly, the girl sobbed immediately. Not able to say a single thing as Y/N untied her and held Sally in her arms. Sally hugged her back as tight as she could, sobbing into her shirt as Y/N rocked her back and forth. Crying along with her.

“He did it to me when I was 12 too,” Y/N whispered.

Sally pulled back and looked at her with puffy eyes, “really?” She asked. Her voice low and scratchy.

“JJ can you get some water?” She called behind her. “Yes. I was his first.”

“Y/N,” the girl repeated. “That’s what he called me?”

She couldn’t stop the sick feeling in her gut, “let’s get you out of here.” She changed the topic, helping the little girl to her feet and to an ambulance.

Y/N smiled at her as she dropped her off with the EMTs, walking off into the woods as quickly as she could. She leaned over, holding her own hair back as she threw up on the ground.

She swatted away at the hand rubbing her back suddenly, continuing to hurl in the bushes as she heard them behind her, shushing her. She wiped her hand on her mouth before she calmed herself down.

She sighed and turned around to see Morgan. His arms were open for her to hug him, she buried her face in his chest as she cried. Not able to fully process all the information she just heard.

“Let’s get you home,” Derek whispered. Escorting her back to the car, she was done for the day.

chapter 22

Valentine’s day had come and gone by the time they finished their most recent case. Landing in Quantico very late on the 16th of February. Everyone departed the plane slowly, half asleep after the 3-hour flight.

“Did you guys miss any plans?” Y/N asked JJ and Emily as they walked together.

“Yeah,” Emily sighed, “I uh, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Since when?” JJ asked, both her and Y/N suddenly not tired at all. They stopped on the tarmac and stared at her.

“Um, a few months now,” She blushed.

“Was this the sin to win weekend?” Y/N asked softly.

Emily nodded, “what’s sin to win?” JJ asked just as quietly.

“It’s a weekend for gay people in Atlantic City,” Emily replied. “It’s an easy way to mingle in a safe space.”

“Oh,” JJ was shocked. “Oh, so you’re, and you too?” She pointed at both of them as the information was processed.

Y/N and Emily smiled at her and laughed. “Bi? Yes,” Y/N replied.

“I’m still not sure,” Emily added. She sighed deeply, shaking her head as she tried to speak again. “I’ve never really enjoyed male company? It feels more like a performance than a relationship.”

“I mean good for you for noticing that now, if it wasn’t for Spencer I’d be in the same boat,” Y/N smirked at her. “He’s more than just a pretty face.”

“Wow,” JJ was shocked. “I would’ve never known.”

Emily placed her hand on JJ’s back, leading her towards the charter back to headquarters, “oh you poor, poor, heterosexual woman.”

“She has a cat, she cuts her bangs when she’s stressed and she bites her fingernails,” Y/N explained to JJ as they picked their seats. “She likes pussy, JJ.”

Emily smacked her arm lightly, all of them laughing hysterically. The boys walked onto the bus to their cackling, desperately wanting to know what was so funny.

“I was just telling them, I met someone and I’d like for you to all meet her soon,” Emily explained to the rest of the team. “I think you’ll really like her.”

“No way,” Derek smiled, high-fiving her. “Congrats dude, welcome to the dark side.”

“You too?” JJ was shocked. “Okay, put your hand up if you’re a straight person,” she stretched her arm into the air. Hotch and Rossi joined her.

“Really?” Spencer and Y/N looked at each other with excitement.

“What the fuck?” JJ was dumbfounded. “How did I not know this?”

“It just never came up before,” Derek shrugged. “Tell us more about this girlfriend of yours, Prentiss.”

“Or,” Y/N cut in. “you could bring her to Vegas in April.”

“Why?” Emily smirked at her.

“If you’re all free on April 23rd,” She teased them along. “Spencer and I would like you to come to our wedding at my parent’s house.”

“Oh!” JJ and Emily freaked, “holy shit!”

“So, you guys are in?” She laughed.

“Yeah!”

For 2 in the morning, the bus was the most excited they had ever been. And Penelope didn’t even join them on this trip. Normally it was her making this kind of excitement, Y/N basked in the happiness that filled the bus.

They discussed little details on the way to their cars, standing in the garage for a good 15 minutes as they planned the dates they’d need to arrange to have off. Hotch knew he could pull some strings to use everyone’s vacation time for a few days.

They exchanged hugs before breaking apart for the night. Planning to return around noon that same day. Giving them a sweet 9 hours of peace and quiet.

“We still need to invite Penelope,” Spencer whispered when they were halfway home. Interrupting the silence that Y/N was enjoying.

Y/N laughed softly, watching him drive with a smile on his face. “I only told the rest of them because Penelope somehow hacked into my calendar app, to plan a baby shower around my schedule, and saw the plans.”

“Of course,” he nodded along.

“So yeah,” she smiled. “She’s told me that she wants to throw me a baby shower/bachelorette party now.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed, squeezing her thigh where his hand was always glued to her.

“If we even get more time off before the wedding, I’m crossing every appendage on my body in the hopes all the psychos take the day off!” She laughed, twisting her arms and legs in a demonstration.

He laughed, leaning against the wheel as he tried to keep his focus on the road. “I love you.”

“You better!” She teased him.

It went quiet again. She could hear the tires on the sandy slush. The grinding of pressure as the snow compressed into the tire tread. Small rocks being flicked up from the wheels, smacking the underbelly of the car as they approached their house.

She sighed as she saw the place, the beautiful green door illuminated by the porch light. Screaming ‘welcome home!’ As they pulled into the parking spot.

Sleep surprisingly came easier to her the more pregnant she got. She was used to laying on her left side now, she actually preferred it, because it means that every morning when she woke up, the sun came in just perfectly to make Spencer glow.

The alarm on Spencer’s table started to beep letting them know it was 10:30. She softly watched him roll over and smacked the machine before turning back to her and closing his eyes once more.

“No.”

She huffed in a silent laugh, getting closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Time to wake up,” she whispered between kisses spread across his face.

He was trying his best not to smile as she peppered his skin with kisses. Pushing him onto his back so she had more skin to cover. It had been a while since they did anything together.

Between the cases and the baby, and everything Spencer learned about her past trauma. He’s been a little distant, and it was starting to make her worry. Dr. Korrapati promised that this sudden burst of anxiety was normal at this stage of pregnancy. It was what contributed the most to the nesting phase, but it still scared her.

She wanted to kiss him, to run her hand down his chest and palm over his boxers until she couldn’t take it anymore. So she did, just a little more seductively.

She moaned softly as she kissed the patch of skin under his ear and down his neck softly. She dragged her fingers over his skin, looping around his nipple as she sucked on his neck. She lifted her leg lightly over his, trying to get some friction between her legs as she kissed him.

“We should probably just go to work,” Spencer softly interjected.

She sighed, dropping her forehead against his shoulder and letting her shoulders slouch.

“I’m not broken!” She sat straight up as she yelled at him. “Can I please just fuck my boyfriend? I have been horny for Weeks,” she wasn’t sure where the sudden burst of emotion came from.

“Oh,” he sat up too, resting his hand on her back softly. “I didn’t realize you wanted to after everything, and the baby? You’ve had a rough few months.”

She laughed lightly, “Spence, of course I do?”

She looked at him softly, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I’ve had to process my trauma before. Yes, it’s still bothering me, and yes I have new trauma that I need to address with my therapist. But,” she emphasized. “I am a woman with needs, and one of those needs is getting railed before work by Doctor Reid.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure?” Spencer asked again.

She smiled and nodded, pushing him back down against the pillows. She resumed her last position, putting her leg between his so they could grind lightly and make out. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask you to stop.”

“Okay,” Spencer looked up at her, brushing her hair behind her ear as she hovered over him. “I love you.”

“Prove it,” she teased him, leaning in and kissing his neck again.

He reached behind her to grab her ass, she had noticed his hands gravitating there more as she gained pregnancy weight. She wasn’t complaining either, the way his hands felt on her skin was glorious.

He was putty in her hands, tilting his head to the side so she could kiss, lick and suck wherever she so pleased. She reached her free hand into his hair while he other kept her steady, in the perfect spot to grind against his boney hip.

He was all gasps and heavy breaths underneath her, she raised her leg lightly dragging it over his hardening erection before putting herself back in place. Just wanting to see how far along he was.

She rolled onto her back then, laying flat, waiting for him. He pushed his underwear to his ankles as he flipped on top of her. She was nothing but giggles as Her Spencer came out to play.

Opening her legs, she greeted him back into her grasp as he hovered over her. Both hands planted against the pillow as he looked down at her. His hair falling into his eyes, she pushed his hair back behind his ears.

“You might need a haircut soon,” she teased him, biting her lip softly.

“Shhh,” he whispered.

She took his right hand from beside her head, gripping him by the wrist and guiding him towards her mouth. Taking his middle and ring finger in, sucking on the digits softly. Making him release a sound she’s never heard before.

She looped her tongue around his fingers, spreading them lightly as she licked a stripe through them. Feeling his skin against her teeth, which only seemed to excite him more.

She pulled off with a pop, he looked mesmerized by the trail of spit that connected her bottom lip to his wet fingers. “Fuck,” he gasped as his breathing hitched.

“You know where to put them,” she whispered up at him, staring into his eyes as she bit her lip.

He kissed her quickly, pulling her forward so he could get the t-shirt she was still wearing off her body, throwing it off the bed as he kissed her neck, sucking a mark into the skin as he pushed his hand into her panties.

“Jesus,” he whispered against her neck as he felt how wet she was. “You weren’t kidding.”

Making her twitch slightly as he used the two fingers that were just in her mouth, to drag up and down on her clit. Rubbing it back and forth between the two knuckles.

“Fuck,” she breathed out as she gripped his hair. Palming his scalp while he kept kissing her neck.

She could feel him grinding against the bed as he kissed her, moaning against the space under her ear as he quickened his finger movements.

“I need you to fuck me, like yesterday,” she panted against his mouth, licking his bottom lip after.

He pulled away from her then, lifting her hips to drag her panties down. Keeping them on one of her ankles as he gripped the base of his cock and sat on his knees.

The sight between her legs was phenomenal. The glow of the sun on the lake through the windows as Spencer stroked himself in front of her.

Suddenly, he took both of her knees in his hands. Pushing them to her chest slightly before flipping her over. Extending her hips as he held her ass up. Kissing each cheek softly before straightening his posture.

“Ready?” He asked, she wasn’t expecting it.

Her face pressed into the pillow as she tried to find the best position to support herself. Pushing her hips back in a silent yes. He understood her body language, lining himself up with her and slowly pushing in.

She pushed back against him as well, moaning as she took all of him. “Finally,” she sighed, wiggling against his hips.

He gripped her hips, pushing her off abruptly before slamming back in. She was shocked, letting out a gasped moan as he fucked into her. Taking the instructions too literally, railing her.

She had never been that loud before in her life. Concerned Rossi would be able to hear them from across the lake, but it didn’t stop her. Only enticing him to keep it up.

She pressed her face into the pillow more as she attempted to reach her clit. She couldn’t, “fuck, Spence?”

“Yeah?” He slowed.

She took his hand off her hip, “can’t reach.” Her breath was erratic as she tried to explain.

“Aw poor bunny,” he teased her, slowing to a grind as his fingers ghosted over her clit. “Can’t get yourself off anymore?”

“Please daddy?” She let it slip, feeling his cock twitch inside of her as she did.

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder softly. “Tell daddy what you want, use your big girl words.”

She pushed back against him, raising herself from the pillow to look over her shoulder at him. “I was going to say breed me, daddy.” She teased, watching his entire personality change. “But it looks like you already did.”

He licked his lips, pushing his hair out of his face as he shook his head at her. “You’re going to regret that.”

She pressed her face back into the pillow and perched her ass back more, ever the invitation. He ran his hand softly over her asscheek, slapping it before he started to fuck her again, reaching around to rub her clit, like she asked, ever so nicely.

They found their rhythm then, pushing against each other in just the right way. Between her deep breathing and the moans she released, the only other thing she could only hear was the sound of their skin slapping together as Spencer fucked her harder than ever before.

“Fuck, sweet Jesus I love your cock,” she praised him, punching into the pillow as she pushed herself back into him, on all 4’s now.

Using his free hand, he spread his fingers through her hair. Gripping her at the roots and pulling her head back as he slammed into her.

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N panted as she felt herself get closer to the edge. “Right there.”

“Cum for me bunny,” he instructed her, “let me fill your perfect little cunt.”

She came with a shout, pushing back against him as his words pushed her over the edge. Not being able to ever say no to that man, feeling his hips shake as he tried to fuck her through his own orgasm.

He pulled out, flipping her limp body back over so she could lay on her back, releasing the pressure on her stomach. Legs still spread as he observed his handiwork, scooping it up with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her. Making her clench up at the feeling.

“Spence-“

“Too much?” He smirked down at her.

She nodded, catching her breath as he just sat there. Still, on his knees, cock now soft and resting against his leg. She preached herself up on her forearms, shaking her head at him as she bit her lip.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” She asked him.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “But hypothetically,” he bit his lip and raised his eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting that on a later date.”

She laughed, dropping back against the sheets. “Me either.”

—

She waddled from the car to the elevator. A mixture of pregnancy and over-extending her hips, exercising with Spencer. Lamaze class more specifically, if anyone asked.

“I should really start calling you ducky,” Spencer whispered in the elevator.

“I hate you,” she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“Really?” He teased her, “because if I recall 27 minutes and 15 seconds ago when you were saying ‘fuck, sweet Jesus, I love your cock,’” he whispered into her ear.

The elevator doors opened as her jaw dropped, “notice how I specified which part, Doctor Reid?” She answered abruptly, walking out towards her coworkers.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” He said as he followed her. Making everyone turn around to see them.

“What’s going on?” Morgan noticed it first.

“Nothing,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just correcting the genius.”

“On?” Prentiss pried.

“Well this morning she said and I quote-“

“I will cut your balls off and hang them from the mirror in my car,” she snapped, glaring at him as she pointed her finger in his direction.

“Mama’s got claws,” Morgan laughed at them. “Damn.”

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek in front of everyone. She turned pink, pretending to be pissed while a smile crept onto her face.

“She loves me,” Spencer smiled, pressing their cheeks together.

“One part, it’s nice to me and doesn’t talk back,” she replied, making everyone laugh as Spencer shook his head.

“Okay, you win,” he put his hands up in surrender as he backed away. Opening the door to the bullpen and disappearing behind his desk.

chapter 23

St. Patrick’s Day was never a holiday that Y/N or Spencer really cared for. Yes, they wore green to work, but other than that they didn’t really see the hype. They were Halloween people.

Will and JJ, on the other hand, went all out.

It was something to do with Will’s love for beer and his frat-boy attitude. Explaining to them that morning in the bullpen that the best parties on his college campus were around St. Patrick’s day and Mardi Gras, making February and March party central in his life.

They walked in with little Henry, decked out in green from head to toe. Green beads around his neck, gold chocolate coins in a basket, and the cutest little shamrock light-up head bopper.

“Look at you!!” Y/N called out to Henry as she walked into the room. Opening her arms up and leaning down to pick him up as he ran into her arms.

“Any Y/N!” Henry called her, not being able to say his T’s yet.

She pressed his tiny cheek against her face as she picked him up and snuggled him against her chest. It was getting harder to pick him up now that she was pregnant but she wasn’t going to miss a Henry snuggle.

“Since when did the FBI consult with leprechauns?” She asked him, booping her nose against him.

“Nooo,” Henry leaned back in her arms, “I’m not a leopard-con,” he tried his best to say the word. Making the team all laugh.

“Well, either way, why’s my favourite little guy here today?”

“Hey?” Spencer complained.

She leaned her elbow into him, “hi unca Spence,” Henry smiled at him. Spencer ran his fingers through Henry’s hair, messing it up under the headband.

“He wanted his godparents to see his outfit before the party at daycare today!” JJ explained with excitement.

Y/N placed him back on his feet, “go on the, show it off!”

He walked around the room, doing a fake model strut as he shook his diapered butt, walking towards the stairs before running back. “Woooow!” Everyone clapped and cheered.

Y/N looked up from Henry’s gaze, seeing Emily in Hotch’s office with a blond woman she didn’t recognize, “what’s going on in there?” She pointed.

“They’ve been in there all morning,” Rossi explained. “I think that’s the girlfriend.”

“How so?” Spencer asked, moving across the room to get a better view through the blinds.

“The way Emily leans against her, hand on her arm like that as she speaks. That’s the same way you and lady boy-wonder act when you’re in there together,” Rossi raised an eyebrow at them.

“Ahh,” Y/N smirked. “I wonder what happened, no one talks to Hotch with the door closed unless they need us to look into something.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Will cut in, scooping Henry up from the carpet with a tight-lipped smile.

“Bye buddy,” Y/N scrunched her nose at him, getting in close to press their noses together. “Have a good day today.”

“Bye, love you,” JJ kissed both her boys and watched them leave the room.

“they’re the best,” Y/N said as she wrapped an arm around JJ.

“Anyone want to go sit and have coffee while we wait for them?” Derek asked prior to a long yawn.

Rossi patted Derek on the back, leading him up the stairs and towards the briefing room. The remaining team members following their lead, discovering fresh donuts and flowers waiting for them.

“A gift for helping in advance, -Noelle” Read the small card on the table.

“Emily’s girlfriend?” JJ pondered, holding the card up and waving it slightly.

“I like her already,” Derek said, kicking his feet back and taking a donut.

Hotch walked in with Emily and Mindy 45 minutes later. Following them was a beautiful blond woman, probably 6’1 even in her flat running shoes. She was wearing cuffed blue skinny jeans and a big Barbie Pink petticoat.

She smiled lightly as she walked in, glueing herself to Emily’s side. “This is Noelle, my partner, Noelle these are my co-workers.”

“Hi!” She waved, “let me guess. Chocolate thunder, Derek Morgan.” She pointed to the nearest person to her.

“Correct,” Derek nodded in her direction.

“You would have to be Penelope Garcia,” she guessed right once again. “Emily was right, your aura is very bright.”

“Oh,” Penelope blushed.

“Y/N and Spencer, she said you’d be basically sitting on top of each other,” making everyone on the team laugh. “JJ, she said you’re like wonder woman, you look more like you could be cast as Super Girl if you ask me.”

JJ blushed, “thank you, Henry would agree.”

“Rossi, I already knew you. I love your books,” she fangirled a little. Something Rossi was incredibly used to.

“Signing hours are from 6-8,” he teased her.

Noelle laughed, her smile wide and toothy. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“Noelle has come in today with concerns that local gay men in her circle of friends are going missing. Over the last few holidays, 3 of her friends have disappeared. Dropping all contact after a trip to the bar,” Hotch explained.

“I’m a firefighter,” Noelle explained. “I have a Facebook group of friends who are gay and in the forces in any capacity. Just to let each other know where they’re going, to be safe.”

“Smart system,” Rossi complimented. “But also incredibly easy for someone to pose as trustful to gain access and track them.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Emily’s pressed lip smile portraying just how uncomfortable she was with the situation. “I’ve met our supposed victim number 3. Officer Perry is a great man and we haven’t heard from him since Friday.”

“Where was he going?” Y/N asked.

“He was at the bar with us on Friday for a little, we got a few beers and then he said he was meeting with a guy he met online, he was never big into online dating or even dating in general. He didn’t know how to be an officer and gay at the same time,” Noelle explained the situation fully. “He is one of my best friends, I excused it Saturday when he didn’t call cause I guessed he was having a good time. But when he missed Sunday dinner I knew something was wrong. I begged Emily to let me pitch this to you.”

“I believe you,” Hotch added. “Which is why I’ve asked Mindy Patel from VICAP to join us today.”

Mindy waved, she dressed more like a techie than an agent. Beanie, headphones on her neck and a big black sweater.

“Strauss and I agreed it would be beneficial to have a member of the team solely responsible for going through VICAP coincidences and letting us know. We stumble across too many rare cases thanks to Y/N and Mindy,” Hotch explained. “Mindy Patel is now officially VICAP Liaison. Her office will be across from Garcia’s from now on, she’s going to be our eyes and ears in the missing person world for the time being.”

“I took into account the fact that your friends were all masc for masc, on the police force in some capacity and male obviously,” Mindy explained. “And I found the two men from Valentines Day and New Years, and then more going back every major holiday for the last 2 years as of this St. Patrick’s day.”

“We’ve compiled the data and sent it to Garcia, it’ll be on your tablets shortly,” Hotch confirmed. “I’d like everyone to split up into teams and take an apartment of the most recent 3 victims. Prentiss and Rossi, you get New Years’.”

“Yes sir,” Emily agreed. “Noelle can stay here with Penelope for insight.”

“Yes. Reid, Y/N and Morgan, you’ll take officer Perry’s apartment. It’s the freshest so I need the best eyes.”

“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.

“Myself and JJ are going to the Valentines Day abduction,” check in with Garcia when you need to, fill me in on everything. Good luck.”

—

“Yeah a cop lives here,” Y/N laughed as she searched through the carefully organized home. Combing the place over for the slightest abnormality.

“He definitely wasn’t taken,” Morgan agreed. “He went willingly and never made it home.”

Dust was starting to settle on his possessions. Photos on the wall looked blurry as the sun shined through the windows. It smelled stale, no one had opened the windows in a while and the man who lived here worked out.

His clothing was organized by category. His laundry had 3 separate baskets for darks, lights and colours. Inside his bedside drawers, all his condoms were lined up by type. He was definitely anal about something.

“Guys?” Spencer called from the office.

Morgan and Y/N followed the sound of his voice, seeing him hunched over an iMac. “I moved the mouse and it’s open and unlocked.”

“But you don’t know what to do?” She teased him.

“Yeah,” he blushed. Watching Y/N sit in the desk chair and start looking through his things.

“His Facebook is pretty basic, he checked in at the bar with a photo here of him with Emily and Noelle, and then he went offline. He doesn’t have Twitter or Tumblr logged in, so I’m guessing he doesn’t have that,” Y/N explains as she stalked his activity. “In his history, your male basics. Case research, pornhub, Facebook, Hotmail… hold on.”

She read through all the subjects, all looking pretty normal. “What would a gay man hiding his sex life from his co-workers disguise his emails as?”

“Work-out appointments,” Morgan answered almost too quickly.

‘Workout’ she typed into the search bar. Seeing 15 messages from another man named domworkouts@hotmail.com. “got him, call Garcia.”

“Hey baby girl,” Derek spoke softly as she answered. “We got Jensen Perry’s computer open, his email shows he’s been working out with a domworkouts@hotmail.com.”

“Already working my finger magic,” she teased him. Hanging up before he could say anything back.

“That woman will be the death of me,” he sighed.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything else here, our best bet is with Garcia,” Y/N admitted as she closed all the windows. “Wait,” she pulled up the search and typed in ‘find my iPhone,’ “if he has a Mac he has an iPhone, not many people blend their tech.”

Last ping: 2256 Sheerly Lane, Friday at 23:56.

“I’ll call Hotch while you drive,” Y/N said, pulling out her phone and following the men out the door.

Morgan followed the GPS 15 minutes down the street to an apartment complex. It was worn down and looked as if no one had taken care of it in the last 25 years. “I’m calling Garcia before you go in, I don’t feel good about this.”

“Hey doll,” Garcia’s cheery voice was a nice refresher.

“Hey, do you have any info on who owns and occupies 2256, Sheerly Lane?” Y/N asked softly. “Also send backup to this location, it’s where Perry’s iPhone is apparently and it looks sketchy as hell.”

She heard the clicking of the keys before she heard Garcia’s reply. “Yep, we have 1 occupant. Amy Romano, 46, left the building after her mother died. She’s been living there in room 333 for years, not renting any rooms out at all in the last 3 years.”

“A woman?” Morgan was shocked.

“Must be why we’ve never found the bodies, female serial killers are 90% less likely to ever be caught,” Reid added his fun fact, one she’s heard from him a handful of times before.

“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “What do we know about her?”

“She’s an interesting one,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Her father was a minister, big bible freak. Her mother was the maid here at the hotel before being given the deed from the original owner’s family. She died in 1988.”

“How much of the religious upbringing rubbed off on her?”

“Enough to make her have multiple psychotic breaks, being diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15,” Garcia gained more insight. “Claimed to have been visited by God, and was told sinners are punished by word of god. That one day she would be the one to follow his word for the righteous man.”

“What if she’s doing her own form of conversion therapy?” Y/N gasped. “She’s not killing them. She’s following god’s word and freeing them from their sins. This is the perfect place to keep them. Locking them in rooms away from each other, secluding them and only subjecting them to a female for long periods of time.”

“Garcia, we need back up right now,” Morgan stressed.

“they’re 4 minutes out, good luck in there my babies.”

“See you soon, baby girl.”

Being left out of raids was weird to her, watching Spencer put on a bullet-proof vest and load his gun without her cover made her anxious. Luckily, she got to stand with JJ outside. Watching the building as they listened over their radiofrequency.

“Clear,” Morgan spoke over the system.

“Clear here as well,” Hotch said. “Meet me at the stairwell.”

“I hate this,” Y/N whispered.

JJ ran her hand along Y/N’s back softly, “me too.”

“Floor 3, room 33,” Hotch explained. “I’ll kick in the door, Morgan, you enter first. Spencer and Prentiss, follow our lead.”

Not having a visual was the worst part. There was no way to know where they were or who was there. They worked on sounds, if and when the team decided to speak.

“1, 2, 3,” Morgan whispered before they heard the door smash in. “FBI!”

Then it was silent again, too quiet for anyone’s liking, staring up at the third floor trying to hear everything in the neighbourhood.

“Amy Romano put the gun down!”

“No!” They heard before 4 shots were fired.

Y/N’s heart was in her throat; she couldn’t hear anything going on inside. The officers asked over the radio for updates, hearing nothing in return. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from running towards the apartment buildings before anyone could catch her. Up 3 flights of stairs, drawing her gun and walking towards the room.

Morgan was shot in the arm, down. Prentiss, hiding behind a table with Morgan and Spencer as she tried to stop the bleeding. Hotch in the unsub’s grasp, fighting for a gun.

Hotch noticed Y/N in the doorway. Kicking the unsub down. Y/N wrapped her arm around the unsub’s neck, putting her in a headlock as Hotch attempted to cuff her. She struggled like a wet fish against them, slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.

“If God wants to tell me to stop, he’ll tell me himself!” She screamed.

Y/N presses her gun to her head, “he just did.”

“Amy Romano you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of 24 men, attempted murder of a federal agent and resisting arrest,” Hotch explained as he cuffed her.

“Y/N!” Spencer stood up, looking at her like she was the crazy person. “We agreed, 3rd trimester, no fieldwork.”

“You didn’t reply on the radio and suddenly I was here,” Y/N explained, “I’m sorry.”

“We need EMTs, Morgan’s been shot in the arm. The bleeding is under control, just hurry.” Prentiss ordered over the radio.

“Y/L/N is going to need to get checked as well,” Spencer added.

“Why?”

“You ran up three flights of stairs, wrestled an unsub and got elbowed in the side,” Spencer explained, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“I’m sorry, I get it now I really do,” Y/N stopped him in the hallway, holding him in her arms. “I don’t like when I can’t see that you’re safe.”

Spencer kissed the top of her head, “I love you.”

“The baby’s kicking,” she replied softly, “that’s good right? 4 movements in 30 minutes after activity is a good thing.”

Spencer laughed, pulling back to feel her belly. “I’m sure he’s all hopped up on adrenaline now, come on let’s get him looked at quickly.”

—

They found 16 of the 24 men alive and in critical condition inside the apartment building. SCSI was canvassing the scene with local cops, taping up the building and surrounding property while the city discussed demolishing the building altogether.

Y/N was able to witness Noelle running into Jensen Perry’s arms, hugging him as they cried in his hospital bed. Y/N could imagine the trauma he was going through, the terror and the fear of something you really don’t want, happening anyway.

“Why do people do terrible things in the name of God?” Y/N whispered towards Spencer, looking up at him with soft eyes. Truly curious.

“The religious system runs similarly to cults, they believe the words are to be followed and thus they will gain entrance to heaven. If there’s one thing humans are afraid of more than dying, it’s internal damnation. Holding the fact that they will suffer in death over their head is a way to get them to do anything.” Spencer explained softly. “With the right person, the wrong message can actually sound like a pretty good thing.”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, “how do you raise a good child in a fucked up world?”

“Matthew, 18; 1 through 5, At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Spencer repeated the bible verse softly. “Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me.”

Y/N smiled, “I like that.”

“He was always supposed to be good, he has you as his mother.”

chapter 24

April rolled around out of nowhere. Suddenly the snow had all melted, the birds were returning, and the trees were starting to bud thanks to the week of thunderstorms.

Love was in the air, both in the wild and in Y/N’s life.

The wedding’s in 2 weeks and she’s growing daily. She wanted to wait till the last possible moment to get her dress. Wanting it to actually fit over her stomach on the big day without any struggle.

Being placed on office duty for the rest of her pregnancy made it easier, not being allowed to leave Mindy and Penelope's side, under direct order from Aaron Hotchner. She was starting to notice that the more pregnant she got, the more the men of the team wanted to protect her as well.

JJ said it was the same for her the first time, all the alpha personalities came out around the third trimester. It was like they didn’t quite register that a woman on the team was pregnant till it was abundantly clear.

The girls had all agreed to go to the dress store with Y/N when they had a free afternoon, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Y/N ended up going by herself between cases while Spencer was on a flight, trying on 6 different dresses before she found one that made her happy.

The sales associate was being extra nice to her, knowing she had both a big budget and no time. It was an easy sale, but this wasn’t an easy decision.

She tried a sleeveless, skin-tight number on first. Not being able to even move once she got in it, not even bothering to look in the mirror. It wasn’t right, that was for sure.

Eventually, by #5 they had an idea of what she wanted. Long sleeves to hide her stretch marks, it had to be flowy but still show off the bump. And she wanted lace, embroidery even. Something that made it different, something that was more like her. Always growing, changing, adapting.

She was wandering the racks when she saw it.

It was so long, the train had to be at least 6 feet. It was light, made with sheer fabric so it would twist and flow with whatever direction she ran or danced. She could imagine walking through the grass with the train flowing behind her with purpose.

The most wonderful aspect was the long sleeves and the neckline. Cupping her chest perfectly with a nice ribbon right above her bump. The entire dress reminded her of something, the floral embroidery sending her back to a dress she remembers from her childhood, not able to place it but knowing it in her heart.

She looked in the mirror at herself, she felt beautiful. She shook her head lightly as a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

The sales associate shook a big bell then, causing everyone to look at her and cheer. “Are you saying yes?” She asked, as cheesy as it was, she loved it.

“Yes!” She cheered back, feeling the love from everyone in the store.

The dress was huge, she laid the bag against her passenger seat and stared at it for a while. It felt a little crazy that she was getting married in a few days, even crazier that she was having a baby in 2 months.

Her phone rang as she started to leave. “Hewwo?” She answered softly, knowing it was Spencer.

“I just got home, where are you?”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Penelope said you guys wouldn’t be back until 9, I went and picked out a dress.”

“Alone?” He sounded sad.

“It was better this way, I picked it for me and no one else,” she reassured him. “I’m on my way home now though baby, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, drive safe. I love you,” Spencer replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Love you too,” she hung up.

She sighed, turning on the stereo and driving home to her favourite albums. Driving alone was different for her now, she used to love just escaping into the Virginia wilderness, picking a road and an album and just going somewhere.

Driving with Spencer meant silence, hand-holding, humming and ha-ing as he discovered new facts that intrigued him. She loved it, the ambiance of Doctor Spencer Reid was not something you could replicate, it was special and calming and wonderful.

She couldn’t wait to get home to him.

He was waiting on the front porch as she rolled into the driveway. Joining her at the car, wanting to help her carry her things inside. “Hi,” she smiled at him as she stepped out.

He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly. “Want some help?”

“If you don’t mind carrying in my dress, I need to pee so bad!” She said, almost about to run inside when he stopped her.

“Like how bad?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“If you were to get surprised would you pee your pants?” He tried not to laugh as he asked.

“Spence?”

“Just go in,” he said softly.

She sighed, knowing what this meant. Walking up the stairs slowly, turning the doorknob just as slow. Not ready to have her eardrums blown out.

“Surprise!!”

Sure enough, there were balloons and flowers and her friends gathered all inside her front hall. “Oh my god?”

Penelope wrapped her in a hug first, “your first baby shower has to be special!”

“You guys really didn’t have to do this?” She was so shocked to be getting attention that she felt a little embarrassed.

“We wanted to,” JJ hugged her next, their bumps too big to hug normally, opting for more of a side snuggle. “I got you something to change into before we get started.”

Y/N took the small blue bag from her, kicking her shoes off before they went upstairs. Spencer joining with her wedding dress, hanging it in the closet and slipping back downstairs, unnoticed.

Y/N opened the gift bag on her bed, JJ looked around the room for the first time ever. Looking at the photos of their first day of kindergarten on the wall, the artwork they chose. How Spencer wrote notes to her on the mirror with whiteboard markers.

“You guys are really cute,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Finally taking the dress out of the bag, it was just something simple. Blue with pink flowers. Something she’d definitely pick out on her own. “This is so beautiful!”

“I got it when I was pregnant with Henry and never had a chance to wear it,” She smiled, “thought that you’d like it more.”

Y/N hugged her, “seriously this is the best thing you guys could’ve done for me!”

“I’m also going to need a pink dress,” JJ said softly in her grasp.

“No?” Y/N was shocked. “Really a mini JJ?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Hurry up we have more surprises for you downstairs!”

—

It took her longer than she hoped to get changed. The baby was just big enough to make her winded all the time now. Having to stop and take a breather just from taking her pants off. Not to mention the struggle of standing up after peeing.

When she finally made it back down the stairs on her swollen feet, she heard a familiar giggle that she loved very much. “You didn’t?”

JJ smiled, “it was Rossi and Will, they flew them all in and got them here.”

Her parents, brothers and wives were all in the kitchen waiting for her. Then she saw Diana, who was pressed up close to Spencer having a conversation in their own little world.

She walked in and cried, hugging her parents for the first time in 5 months. Showing off her big baby bump and chunky face for the first time too.

“You look amazing!” Her mom complimented her, taking her hand and making her spin slowly.

“Thank you, I feel huge,” she smiled. “I can’t believe you guys are here, I’m literally coming home in 2 weeks!”

“When David Rossi calls you and says he has a jet picking us up, you don’t just say no,” her father laughed, wrapping his arm around Rossi. They were going to be something else together.

She gave Diana a big hug when she could, watching her rub her belly and talk to the baby through her stomach for a good 10 minutes. It was so cute, everyone in the room watched and swooned. Secretly always hoping Spencer’s family got a moment like this.

After dealing with the Riley Jenkins case, and Gideon leaving, they worried for him. They never expected him to just show up one day with a girl and start the rest of his life the way he did. But it just made sense. He sped through school and early adulthood well before Y/N, now they’re moving fast, just together.

They had pizza for dinner, spreading 6 different kinds across the counter and telling everyone to dig in. Y/N took a slice and walked around, mingling with everyone to ensure she thanked them for coming.

“Henry!” She finally found him with Chloe and Lizzie. He ran into her arms, giving her a big hug. “Did you meet my niece?”

“You’re my any?” He questioned her right back.

“Come here Clo,” she called her over, huddling them both in close to her. “You both get to call me aunty Y/N, isn’t that so cool? You’re new friends and you share an aunty!”

Chloe gave her a big hug, she was getting bigger and bigger every day, about to turn 4 in a few months. It felt a little crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How are you?” She asked her softly.

“I’m good,” she whispered at her, smiling before hiding her face in her dress.

“Are you having fun here? Did you meet buddy yet?”

“No!” Chloe’s face lit up.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gasped at them both, getting back up to her feet and walking with them to where Buddy hid in the laundry room.

He was curled into a ball in a basket of towels, peaceful in the quietest room in the house.

Chloe and Henry took turns petting Buddy, kissing his head and playing with his tail, it was good for him to get a little used to grabby kid's hands. She was a little worried about how he’d handle a baby, but he was a chill cat he never really cared about attention as long as he was fed.

Eventually, JJ and Lizzie found them, peeling them away from the cat with the promise of cake while Y/N opened her gifts from everyone.

Everyone was watching her as she sat down in the living room, feeling a little anxious like she had to perform for them or something. Spencer finally joined her on the couch then, wrapping his arm around her in a soothing motion.

“So,” Garcia started. “I took it upon myself to organize the party but I didn’t just stop there, I also emailed everyone a link to a chart where they could pick the category of gift they got you so that we avoided repeats and got everything you would need.”

“This is all so much,” she turned bright pink. “You guys really didn’t have to I feel like I haven’t bought anything for myself since I met Spencer.”

“Nonsense!” Penelope hushed her. “Here, pick whatever one grabs your fancy.”

Y/N’s eyes raked over the pile of gifts, “um that big one over there, why not.”

It was a big blue bag, stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. The card on the handle was signed, she opened it to find 'from; Erin Strauss' on it. “Oh?”

“She couldn’t come but she passed that along on behalf of the section,” Hotch explained.

Y/N didn’t waste any time opening it. Finding brand named everything that she would need for breastfeeding, losing her mind at the never-ending bag.

Almost every gift was the same, all themed and absolutely filled. She was never going to have to buy anything for Matthew, she got it all today.

Hotch and Haley got her a babies bath essentials set. Her parents equipped her with every form of linen she would ever need for a baby, as well as a quilt made just for Matthew.

Penelope bought easily $400 in clothes for him over the past 7 months, with the promise of not stopping any time soon. Derek and Emily got together to buy them an all-terrain stroller, for the walks they expect them to take down the back roads. Emily’s girlfriend even brought a mom after-care set for her.

Diana’s gift made her cry the most, opening the box to find old copies of childhood books. “Those were all Spencers when he was a child,” she explained softly. “His love for the world started with those stories, I would like for Matthew to know them too.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N wiped the tears off her face, leaning over to hug her. “If Matty ends up being even half as wonderful as Spencer I’ll be grateful.”

“Spencer, did you get her anything?” Diana asked him softly as she was still mid embrace with Y/N.

“It’s in the garage,” Spencer smiled.

She looked at him with excitement, “you didn’t!”

“I might have,” he smiled.

“What?” Rossi asked, hating suspense more than anyone on the team.

“I was joking about wanting to get an SUV and become a soccer mom,” Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Did you get me a soccer mom mobile?”

He smiled back at her, “here.”

She held the key in her hand, her car was old as hell. She has had it since she moved to Virginia and even then it was a 2004 model. She had never had a new car, with the fresh car smell and clean everything!

“I am so overwhelmed,” she announced, bouncing a little in her seat as she shook her hands. Stimming just a small amount in front of everyone in all the excitement.

“We’re all done celebrating you now, I think we can start getting out of your hair, right guys?” JJ stood and pressured everyone that wasn’t relying on their house for the night, out the door.

Penelope helped Debbie and Diana clean everything up around the house. Peeling Henry and Chloe away from each other was the most difficult part of the night, becoming fast friends and wanting to look at books all night together in uncle Spencers library.

Rossi offered to let her brother Levi and his wife stay at his place while Diana and Y/N’s parents took the guest room in her home. Harrison and Faith driving back to Fort Meade to their own house.

—

Y/N and Spencer sat up in their bed, leaning against the headboard as they listened to the quiet of their house. Their co-workers were gone, their parents were settled in the guest rooms and most likely still awake from the time difference. The day had been so crazy that she barely had time to wrap her head around it.

“So…” Y/N cut the awkward silence. “Wanna make out?”

He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Remember the last time you asked me to do that?”

“Yeah, I lost my virginity,” she whispered back at him. A little scared that everyone could hear them talking.

“We can't,” Spencer looked at her with wide eyes. “It's bad enough my mother knows I’ve had sex once let alone possibly hearing us.”

He nudged him a little, crawling into his lap and sitting there softly. Her belly pressed against him, filling the space between them as she held his face in her hands.

“They’re on the other side of the house,” she pouted. “Just make out with me?”

He kissed her quickly once, “why are you so needy tonight?”

“All day I’ve had everyone's attention but yours,” she explained softly. “I missed you and I want my Spencer time.”

He couldn’t say no to that, because he felt the exact same way. He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and finally resting them on her back. She ran her thumbs over Spencer's cheeks, looking at him softly as she tilted her head to really admire him.

His lips were perfect, his nose was adorable. The way his stubble grew in and darkened his jaw was amazing. His bone structure, his eye colour, the way his hair just fell flawlessly into place with 0 effort. She sighed as she looked at him.

“I love you,” she whispered, biting back a smile as she waited for his response.

“I love you,” he giggled as he looked right back at her. It almost felt more intimate than sex, just staring into each other's eyes in a dimly lit bedroom, in the middle of the night.

She ran her hands up into his hair, combing her fingers through it. He tilted his head back every time, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. She was about to smile when she got a sharp shooting pain in her hips.

“Oh, my, god,” she breathed out. “Ouch?” She scrunched her face with the pain as the sharpness dulled into the bone, just feeling uncomfortable as she tensed up in his lap. She didn’t even realize she was tugging on his hair in response to the pain.

“What?” Spencer asked, concerned as all hell.

“I think that was Braxton hicks? It was like everything down there just lit up in pain,” she explained with a horrified look on her face.

He ran his hands softly over her hips, soothing the skin in an attempt to help. “Are they bad?”

“It just feels like a pinched nerve at first and then a dull ache, it’s not the worst. I don’t enjoy it that's for sure,” she laughed a little louder. “God, I hope he’s kind to me on the way out.”

“I was doing research into the best drugs and techniques for birth for mothers that don’t want any drugs either because they’re sober or they don’t want to be removed from the moment,” Spencer explained softly. “There are a lot of options if you want to look into them with me this week?”

“Of course you did,” she smiled at him once again, feeling a bit better. “We also have to pack the baby’s go-bag.”

Spencer laughed at the way she phrased it. “Isn’t it just a hospital bag and a diaper bag?”

“No, it’s a mission to have a baby. It’s a go-bag.”

They kept giggling with each other over the dumbest things, staring at smiling as they laughed. Spencer’s hands roamed her back while she poked his face. Happily just talking in each other's space about the most random shit.

It was what she loved the most about him, that they could equally ramble about what they found interesting and the other felt just as excited about learning something new. They had mutual respect for each other's interests and feelings that ran deeper than most, truly loving every word that left their partner's mouth.

By the time they settled against the pillows and attempted to sleep it was half 1 in the morning. They turned all the lights out and still just stared at each other.

She booped his nose softly with her own, watching him scrunch his face as a result before giggling again.

“Do you have any idea what the case tomorrow will be?” She was only asking because she wanted more time with him, needing to find every topic to bring up so that the night never ended.

“Mindy’s pitching something to us tomorrow again,” he whispered. “You’ll be good at this one.”

“Oh I’m excited now okay, goodnight,” she closed her eyes and pretended to snore, making him snuggle in and wrap her arms around him, pulling her in close the way they liked it.

“I love you, bunny,” he said one last time for the night.

She sighed as she settled into him, “I love you more Spence.”

[kaitycole]

dopamine and epinephrine, just don’t mix

Summary: Kuroo thinks back on his relationship with Y/N. How will those memories hold up to reality? 

Pairing: Kuroo x fem!reader, Bokuto x fem!reader (platonic)

Word Count: 5351

Warnings: Angst. Toxic behaviors. Cheating allegations. Adult language.

A/N: A special thank you to @twilightwrites​ for this prompt.

Side note: I know the drinking age in Japan is 20, I realized as I was writing the last paragraph of this that I messed up, so we are just gonna let it slide because my head hurts lol

September – 2013

“Kuroo-san, do you understand what I’ve just explained?” He just nods, the meaning of the words is known, it’s just the weight of them that just hasn’t hit him yet. It not until he’s walking across campus, his feet dragging against the sidewalk, that the weight of his advisor’s words land on his shoulders.

You failed to maintain proper grades to continue not just in this department, but in this university. Your enrollment has been terminated.

Kuroo shakes his head, how exactly would he explain this to his grandmother? She was so proud of him for getting into university in the first place. He really was great at disappointing those he cared for lately.

*                      * The sidewalks are busier than he’s used to, he was always in class at this time and he ends up brushing against a few people as he maneuvers his way to the nearest convenience store. The dinging of the welcome bell draws him from the jumble of thoughts he was having. The cool air from the refrigerated unit, grabbing several cans of lemon flavored chūhai. It was cheap, didn’t taste all that great, but he didn’t care.

There are three empty cans piled next to his foot, his hand tightens around the fourth one, it caves under his fingertips. The blend of alcohol on an empty stomach has Kuroo on the verge of tipsiness.

He hears a soft laugh and feels himself stiffen when he sees (h/c) hair as his mind blanks. It’s been almost a year since he’s seen her, a flash of the malice words exchanged and the sound the door made as it was slammed crosses his mind.

Suddenly he’s self-conscious of how he looks, quickly running his fingers through his unruly hair (not that that would help) and scrabbles to pick the cans up and cram them into his bag. He doesn’t fully hear the name, but enough to know it wasn’t her, making him feel a bit ridiculous.

Dopamine: hormone and neurotransmitter that's an important part of your brain's reward system; associated with happiness and pleasure.

June – 2010

“Can you tell me where Ko-chan is?”

Kuroo turned to see an unfamiliar face staring back up at him. She tucked a stray piece of her (h/c) hair behind her ear, nervously biting her bottom lip, and Kuroo instantly thought she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. So much, that instead of answering her, he just stood there, staring.

“Bokuto-san is this way, L/N-san.” Akaashi said as he walked up behind her.

She smiled at Kuroo, apologizing for bothering him before following Akaashi over to where the rowdy ace of Fukurōdani was. Once Bokuto’s eyes fell onto the girl, he ran towards her, wrapping her into a tight hug, thanking her repeatedly for bringing his extra gym bag all the way to the training camp.

Kuroo waited until Bokuto was alone before he made his way over, trying to figure out how to work in his question. “Bokuto, who is that?” Bo looked over to Akaashi who was talking to this mystery girl before looking back at Kuroo with a sloppy grin on his face. “Why? Interested?”

Kuroo felt his head getting fuzzy, like when he held it over the edge of his bed for too long, “I was…uhm…just wondering.”

“That’s Y/N. We grew up together, but in fifth grade she moved away, just recently moved back.”

That explained why Kuroo didn’t know her even though her and Bo came off extremely close.

“She’s single.”

Kuroo felt his face start to burn, embarrassment covering it as he tried to speak, but all that came out were broken parts of a sentence. “Oh, well…I don’t…bother…just…yeah.”

** Y/N was standing in the doorway of the gym, watching as Bokuto hit down each practice set Akaashi sent his way, he truly had gotten even more powerful since they were children. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to warm up, she tensed when she felt a slight bit of weight on her shoulders.

She turned around to see a messy raven-haired boy standing behind her, his oversized red jacket draped over her shoulders. “Rooster boy!”

“Huh?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to really respond.

“Ko-chan told me to call you that.” She smiled up innocently at Kuroo and he felt himself get weak in the knees.

He mumbled something to the effect of ‘horned owl bastard’ underneath his breath which seemed to make her laugh just a little bit. He ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about the state of his hair.

She turned back around, eyes wide in awe as Bokuto slammed another ball onto the other side of the court, Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like if she looked at him like that, but blocking wasn’t as flashy as spikes were and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. He turned around on his heel, getting ready to head back to where the rest of his team is.

“Are you trying to play hard to get?” “Huh?” He looked back at her, she had spun around, a devilish smirk on her smirk.

“You gave me your jacket even though you only have a t-shirt on, but you don’t tell me your name or ask if I want go somewhere to talk.”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to watch Bo play, I…uh…didn’t want to bother you.”

She slipped her arms into his jacket, zipping it up, “nah, I can see Bo play at school.”

“Did you want to go talk somewhere?” “I don’t go places with strangers.” She tilted her head, giving him a knowing look.

He shook his head, “I’m Kuroo Tetsurō, nice to meet you…?” “L/N F/N. Likewise Tetsu-chan!” She grabbed his hand, “c’mon, let’s go!”

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as his feet moved on their own, following this mystery girl and he already knew that he was gonna have his hands full, not that he really cared.

*                      * December – 2010

“Y/N?”

The two of them were in Kuroo’s room, something they did often on the weekends, sometimes working on school work, other times just enjoying each other’s company. She’s flipping through a magazine, her chin rested on her palms as she looked over her shoulder at the middle blocker, a smile on her face. Kuroo was leaning against his headboard and couldn’t help but forget what he was about to say.

“Tetsu-chan?”

“Are you a carbon sample?” He smirked when she gave him a puzzled look, “because I want to date you.” Her face lit up as she pushed herself up, sitting up while crossing her legs as she faced Kuroo. “Oh! Oh! Oh! I have one too!” She clapped her hands in excitement, “you look sweeter than 3.14!”

He laughed before he shook his head, “no, Y/N, I’m asking you out.”

“You’re asking me out using a science pun?” His face went completely red, cheek burned as he rubbed the back of his head. “…yeah.”

“You’re such a dork!” She started laughing, falling over to the side as her giggles filled the now empty room. When she finally composed her, wiping the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, she smiled up at him, “but I guess that means you’re my dork.” “That a yes?” Kuroo held his breath, worried that she was about to reject him because looking back on it, it was kinda lame, even for him.

She crawled up to Kuroo side, leaning into it as he wrapped his arm around her waist, “it’s a proton positive?”

*                      * September – 2013

Kuroo staggers up the stairs, thankful that he only lives on the second floor of his apartment building. He drops his bag near the door while he kicks off his shoes as he makes his way to the closet in his room.

The apartment is pretty bare for someone to be living there. The furniture that’s there is just what’s needed, the bare minimum through the apartment. A bed and night stand in the bedroom, couch and TV in the living room area and the only reason he had a TV stand was because Kenma almost had a heart attack when he saw Kuroo had it sitting on the floor.

Y/N was supposed to decorate it, that had been their deal when the subject of moving in together came up. The plan was to get an apartment between the universities they had planned to attend and she could decorate it however she wanted, all Kuroo cared about was getting to come home to her. But it was obvious that day never happened, they didn’t even make it searching for apartments together before things fell apart and Kuroo picked an apartment closest to his school.

He’s rummaging through the bedroom closet before pulling out an old tin box, the kind that trading cards come in. Wiping off the thin layer of dust that has accumulated on the top, he slowly opens it, a flood of emotions washes over him.

*                      * March – 2011

“Y/N seems really happy.” Bo said, the three of them had all met up to see a movie that recently released.

Kuroo was happy that his girlfriend and best friend were also close, it made things a lot easier and he didn’t have to worry about them getting along, even if they had technically known each other longer. “I hope she is, I’d do anything for her.”

“What are you two whispering about?” She snuck up behind them, popcorn in hand, placing her chin on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Guy stuff.”

“Laaame!” She shook her head, walking towards the theatre where their movie was playing, “we’re gonna miss the trailers!”

** “Where to next?” She looked between the boys, eager to keep their night going. 

“I should probably head back, I don’t want to worry my grandparents.” Kuroo glanced at the time on his phone, he knew the movie might run late but he didn’t think they’d be out this late. He felt bad as he watched her face drop, clearly not the answer she was expecting.

“Yeah, it is getting a bit late.” Bokuto agreed with a slight shrug.

Y/N dragged her feet along the sidewalk, her shoulder dropped which caused both boys to share a look.

“Is this about what we talked about earlier?” Bokuto asked, pulling her into a side hug.

Kuroo looked between them, curiosity filling him as he tries to think if she told him anything that was bothering her, but he can’t. “What did you two talk about?” She shook her head, “it’s nothing.” She looked up at him, giving him a small straight smile.

Part of him wanted to ask her again, to get her to open up and talk to him about it because it was bothering her then it bothers him, but he didn’t. He tried to find comfort in the fact that at least she could tell Bo about it, at least she had someone, but it still hurt that that someone wasn’t him.

*                      * May – 2011

It had bothered Kuroo for weeks now that it seemed Y/N was confiding more and more into Bokuto that she was him. He was her boyfriend, he was the one she should be going to, right? Then why was she continuously going to their friend?

His irritation started to splinter into other aspects of his life, tests that he should’ve passed he didn’t, blocks he should’ve made he missed, but the boiling point came when Fukurōdani played Nekoma and she came decked out in Fukurōdani colors, cheerfully talking to Bo and his team. He knew it shouldn’t bug him like it was, she attended that school, but what still pissed him off were the comments he heard as they walked by the team.

Comments from other team members and what seemed like potential classmates of theirs repeatedly saying different variations of how cute her and Bo looked together, what a great couple they’d make and the way that she would hang onto Bo’s side.

The game was long, Kuroo spend half the game lost in his anger and the other half moving on auto-pilot as his body seemed to move on its own. Somehow Nekoma ended up winning, but that didn’t change the way he felt as he practically stormed off the court towards the locker room. He understood how important Bo was to her, that they were best friends and had been for longer than he knew either of them, but that didn’t alleviate the anger that radiated off of his shoulders nor did it stop him from slamming the doors he walked through.

“Tetsu-chan!”

He didn’t stop, just continued to walk down the hallway and toward the main entrance, acting as though he’s the only one there.

“Tetsu-chan!” She reached out, pulling his duffle bag’s strap back towards her.

He refused to turn around, having a feeling that he’d lash out and he didn’t want to do that. He needed space, time to cool down, he didn’t want to give her the ultimatum of him or Bo and he had a feeling if he opened his mouth, that’s what he’d say.

She looked at his back, unsure of why he was so upset, his team had just won, shouldn’t he be more excited? “For someone who just won, you’re acting like emo Bo.”

Kuroo’s eye twitched, just hearing her compare him to Bo so effortlessly was painful and caused his thoughts to spiral. Did she want to be with him? Would she rather be with Bo? He clenched his fist, hating the way he felt and hating himself more for feeling that way. He hated the ugly jealousy that wrapped around his chest, weaving around his lung, making it harder to breathe as it tightened. He yanked his bag strap away from her, leaving her standing there as he stormed out.

** A few weeks went by and communication between Kuroo and Y/N was awkward and basic, simple “hello’s” and “yeah, you?” filled most of their exchanges. It all came down to Bo inviting both of them over to his place and essentially locking them in his room, forcing them to talk to each other.

“Tetsu-chan.” She bit down on her lip, tears filled her eyes, the reality of how distant they had grown weighed down the atmosphere, “are we breaking up?” “What?” His head snapped up, finally looking her. He didn’t want to break-up, he wasn’t even mad anymore, he just didn’t know how to get back to where they were. It felt weird to just try to just back in as if nothing had ever happened.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if creating a wall between them, an attempt to brace herself from the pain that seemed to be coming. She tried her hardest to keep her lip from quivering. “’Cause this is a very shitty way of doing that. You could’ve just called.”

He wasn’t sure what was going on, she didn’t look like she wanted to break up, but she sounded like she was ready for one. What sense did that make? The room almost felt hostile, “so I look like the guy that’d break up over the phone, is that what you think of me?” “Did I say that? No. But it’d be better than dumping me in Bo’s room!”

“I didn’t say I wanted to break up!”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“You hurt my feelings!” Kuroo voice raised a bit louder than it had been, both of them pausing in their spot. The tension immediately disappeared and she slowly walked up to him, an adorable pout on her face.

She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest, “I’m so sorry!” “It’s fine, it’s stupid anyways.” He rubbed circles on her back, pulling her in closer to him.

She protested, claiming anything that bothered him couldn’t be stupid and demanded that he tell her and he did. That he knew it was rather silly to be jealous of her supporting her school, but it made him wonder if she was embarrassed to say she was with him. That he knew it was important for her to have friends and he was glad Bo was one, but she wanted her to see him as someone she could go to in the same she could to Bo because as lame as it sounded, he didn’t like feeling like the odd man out.

She reassured him that it was nothing like that and told him that she saw where he was coming from. She told him that if the roles had been reversed, she would’ve definitely felt the same way that he had and that they both needed to work on their communication skills because they both agreed neither of them wanted what they had to end.

They walked out of the room together, holding hands and Bo looked excited to see they worked things out, wrapping them both in a huge hug. Kuroo thought he felt confident in what she said to him, but then he saw how she seemed to just naturally gravitate towards Bo even when he was there and that sinking feeling he had weeks ago at their game came back, this time plowing into him like a wrecking ball.

*                      * September – 2013

Kuroo accidentally kicks the box as he staggers to stand up, the memories proving to be a bit too much for him. But something in him made him want to see the task through, to see everything that he was holding on to, but to do that he needed alcohol.

His phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, he takes it out immediately pressing the button on the side to silence it then presses it again to send it to voice mail. Kuroo knows who it is, it’s the only person who would be calling him: Kenma.

He opens the fridge, pulling out what few cans of beer he has before shuffling back to his room, flopping down in the stop that’s still warm from him sitting there just moments ago. He puts his phone on floor near him, glancing at the screen as it lights up from a text notification.

Kenma: Missed Call (4) Text Message (15)

Technically he had no reason to avoid his best friend, but he didn’t feel like he deserved Kenma’s kindness because all he had done lately was mess things up. He didn’t want Kenma to tell him everyone messes up and he can fix things since he knew that it was too late to do any of that now.

He pulls out a small pile of printed photographs, some printed out on the mini polaroid paper from the camera she wanted for her birthday. She was his first serious relationship, between school and volleyball he never really gave dating much thought, but it was different with her. She kept him on his toes, made him want to be better, he really could see a future with her, but he screwed it up and now all he had were these pictures.

Pictures that ranged from dates to study sessions, from volleyball games to random adventures through Tokyo. Looking at them made him wonder if she kept the matching ones? Did she have a box too?

A bit of beer splatters when he cracks open the tab and he frantically wiped the picture across his thigh, drying it but smearing the liquid across the photo. He wanted to believe that he tried hard enough to make things work, that he gave it his all, but when he thought back to that night, her words told him differently.

Epinephrine: surges at panic/emergency; provokes stress response— brings out arousal of extreme emotions like fear and anger.

January— 2012

“It’s really not that big of a deal!” She said for the fourth time within the last five minutes, but Kuroo wasn’t listening.

“It is!” He shook his head, pacing her bedroom, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to control what he said if he sat down, he needed to walk this anger out of him.

“He was the first person I saw, Tetsu.” She really didn’t mean anything by telling Bokuto she had been accepted into her top two choices for college, he literally happened to be the first person she saw after getting the news. They’d been dating for two years and he still got jealous when it came to Bo and she wasn’t sure why.

“You just don’t get it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to even out his breathing, he really didn’t want to fight with her.

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get why my boyfriend gets so upset when I tell my best friend things.”

“Because you told him first! I should know first!”

She snorted, “this is stupid. I mean honestly you sound like a child.”

“A child, nice.” He grabbed his jacket from her desk chair, shoving passed her as he walked down the hall before slipping on his shoes and going right out the front door.

She followed him, yelling at him to stop, yanking on his arm when she finally catches up. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there as she repeatedly apologized, tightly wrapping her arms around his torso.

“I don’t know why I get so jealous.” He sounded defeated and he was, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t place why he felt so threatened by Bo. Maybe it was because he knew her longer, knew parts of her that he didn’t or maybe it’s because deep down he just didn’t feel like he deserved her.

“I know.” She buried her face into his chest, still hugging him. She believed that he didn’t know why he felt that way, but she was still tired of dealing with it, regardless of how much she loved him.

*                      * April – 2012

It was the weird time between graduation and university getting ready to start, Y/N was over at Kuroo’s, his room now filled with boxes. Things didn’t bounce back to normal the way it did before when she thought they were breaking up, after their latest fight things were kinda awkward. They still hung out, but it was mostly just them sitting in the same room both engaged in something alone.

Kuroo looked over when he heard her giggle, raising an eyebrow before humming.

“Yukie sent the group chat some pictures from graduation.” She handed her phone to him, scooting a bit closer so they could look together.

Most of them were harmless, to be fair they were all harmless, but Kuroo started to question them as they went through them. There were ones of Y/N with Yukie and Kaori and some with various team members. Then they got to ones with Bo and both of them stiffened, neither had mentioned him unless they had to since their last fight. There were ones with Bo hanging on an unamused looking Akaashi, but the one that Kuroo hated was one of Bo next to Y/N, his hand “too low” on her hip for his liking.

He pushed himself off his bed, trying to calm down, but he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to.

“Tetsu, it was just a picture.”

He made an annoyed sound, something between a scoff and a laugh, as he shook his head. “He didn’t have to put his hand on your hip like that.”

She rolled her eyes, “it’s just a stupid pose. Everyone does it!” She flipped through the pictures, zooming in on Yukie’s arm that was wrapped around her waist, “see! Look! Her arm is around me, that make you mad too?” “It’d be different if you weren’t practically begging Bo to fuck you!”

The words hung heavy between them, for Kuroo it was a weight of his shoulders to get the words out but for Y/N, it knocked the wind out of her lungs. They were supposed to look at apartments today, find one to live in together while going to college, but a fight like this wasn’t in the plans. At least not for her, she was hoping that they could mend things and start over since they’d be moving away from Bo.

“W-w-what?” Her face was scrunched up in disbelief, the words still not being fully processed.

“I mean the way you flaunt yourself in front of him in that skirt!”

“Skirt?” Her face went deadpan, “you mean my fucking school uniform?”

28 months, they’d been together for over two years and she couldn’t he said that to her, couldn’t believe that he felt that way. Tears started to fill her eyes, for months she walked on pins and needles, carefully edited her words around him and now she had to hear the person she loved the most say the worse kind of words to her.

“You know what I mean! Don’t twist my words!”

“I’m not and I can’t believe you!” She wiped the tears from her face aggressively, “I have done nothing to cause you to feel this way!”

“I’m just making it up? It’s just in my head?” “YES! Bo is our best friend. Friends, that’s all we have ever been!” She started to look around the room, trying to find the sweatshirt she brought with her, she couldn’t have this fight again.

“Friends don’t act like you two do.”

“Boyfriends don’t act like you do!” She took three steps towards Kuroo to grab her sweatshirt before she turned and walked towards his door. She hesitated, thinking Kuroo would call out to her, but he doesn’t, instead he just let her leave.

*                      * July – 2012

They didn’t get a shared apartment like they had planned to. Kuroo stayed in Tokyo while YN moved to Kyoto, choosing a completely different university than she originally intended. For most of their first semester in university they barely spoke at all, neither really making it a point to reach out. Ironically, if it wasn’t Bokuto they wouldn’t have known how the other was doing, how the other was dealing with the upgrade from high school to college.

Then Bokuto mentioned a Fukurōdani vs Nekoma game, invited both of them and both eagerly accepted. Which lead to a very awkward game, each sitting on the opposite side of Bokuto, who was far too busy cheering on his old team to notice. Bokuto ran off after the game, Akaashi had called, leaving the two to awkwardly walk home.

They get close to her house, both lingering on the sidewalk, kicking imaginary rocks to act as if they had something keeping them outside.

“Y/N, I’m –“

“I think we should break up.”

“Y/N, I –”

“No. I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore. I tried so hard to make this work, but what you said to me hurt Kuroo, it really hurt.”

Kuroo. When was the last time she called him that?

“I never did anything to make you think those things, I wouldn’t do that. I really did love you, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy.”

*                      * September – 2013

It had been over a year and he stilled kicked himself for not saying anything to her that night, for letting her walk away without even trying to hold onto their relationship. But that night he discovered that everything he thought about them was a lie. He thought that he had been trying to keep them together, that he had been trying his hardest to be a good boyfriend, but he was the one who tore them apart. He was the one who got it in his head that she was acting a way that he knew she wasn’t, he knew that Bo was just her friend and what made it even worse was after their break-up, Bo and Akaashi announced their relationship.

Not only did he lose his girlfriend, the only girl he’d ever loved, but she eventually told Akaashi what happened and when Bo found out, he was livid. Even Akaashi hadn’t seem Bo as mad as he was when he called and told off Kuroo for ever thinking that about him and Y/N. Maybe all of this was what he deserved, he had been truly awful as a boyfriend and a friend, but even with that awareness, he still missed her. Still wanted her back, wanted to truly be able to fix things with her because he knew he could be better given one more chance.

*                      * October – 2013

Being back at home isn’t as bad as Kuroo built it up in his head to be. His grandparents weren’t thrilled that he wasn’t going to finish up this semester, but he promised them after some time, after he could clear his head, he would go back.

He picked up a part-time job at a convenient shop, just needing something to force him out of his thoughts because somehow being back at home was even worse than being alone in his apartment. Even though he knew she was hours away, it didn’t stop him from almost breaking his neck to see if every girl passing with (h/c) was her. He hadn’t seen her up close since their breakup, so he didn’t know if she had long, short, buzzed hair, hell he didn’t even know if she had colored it differently.

“You didn’t forget my (favorite flavor) tea, did you?”

Kuroo stops in the middle of ringing up a customer at the sound of a familiar voice. Over the last year and a half, he swore he had heard it several times, but this time he is positive that it’s her. He looks up just in time to see her smiling at someone that the aisle is preventing him from seeing and he feels his heart thump into his chest.

He wants to step away from the register, to tell them to just give him a moment, that’s all he needs with her to try to get her to just hear him out, but there’s a pretty long line and she disappears deeper into the store.

“Kuroo?”

He looks up from ringing up the few items that were placed on the counter and it was her. Her in person, not in his dreams or random memories that flooded his mind when was alone. He wanted to ask her to wait for him, to give him just a few minutes to talk to him, but the person next to her wrapped his arm around her and his heart sank.

“Are you on break from school?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Just thought I’d take some time off, clear my head.” He told them the total price, the mystery man handing him the amount. “What about you?” She clears her throat, shifting a bit awkwardly which isn’t missed on either man. “Bo invited us to celebrate him signing to a pro team.” “Ah. So this is…” The man quickly introduces himself, Kuroo doesn’t bother to catch his name, but the title he gives himself sticks in his mind: boyfriend. He wants to be mad, how could she just move on like that? How could she just forget everything they had and start over with this…guy?

“We should get going, Y/N.”

“It was nice seeing you.” She gives him a small polite smile, taking the man’s hand as they walked out of the store. But she pauses before going through the door and for a brief moment Kuroo holds his breath, hoping she’ll tell him she wants to talk. She doesn’t, instead she shakes her head with a small laugh and follows her boyfriend outside.

That’s the moment Kuroo realizes that he no longer has a place in her life to go back to, that no matter how hard and tightly he holds onto the memories they made, he would never get her back. And that realization shook Kuroo to his core.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

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[carry-on-my-wayward-butt]

He did? Umm.. what happened exactly?

(referring to this post)

my 11th grade chemistry teacher had an associates degree in liberal arts.

you know how in virtually every class you’ve ever had since middle school, your teachers made a big stink about the syllabus? she didn’t have one. this was her first teaching job, which she got because of her length experience as a substitute, not by her licensing qualifications. we were, at first, excited to have her, because she was a “fun sub” and we were 17 years old and stupid as all shit. we were the “normal chem” class in a system where the only other options were “honors chem” which was filled with children who actually know how to study (or cheat) and have an air of proper student activity, and “AP Chem”, which is clear enough if you’ve been an american student in the last 15 years.

she followed the mcgraw hill chemistry book in order of chapters, despite the fact that our state standardized tests did several of the chapters out of order. ever notice how you’ll suddenly be looking at chapter 11 when just last week you were on chapter 5, then the next week you’re on chapter 8? standardized testing is the reason. anyways by asking my friends in other classes who had chemistry teachers of relative competence, i was able to discern which chapters i should focus on, and while she was distracted with literally watching youtube videos all period, I was turning around in my seat and walking across the classroom helping my friends and enemies with the packets. (she was a two-packets-a-week kinda teacher.)

yes i said enemies too. the people i hated, i hated because they were sons of bitches i wouldnt piss on to put out a fire. i hated them so dearly i used to pray to god that they would bump into me so i could throw myself into the concrete and split my forehead open and get them expelled due to the blood-clause of our “zero-tolerance policy”. two of the kids in my class had, only the previous year, attempted to set my hair on fire.

i hated the teacher more. 

it gave me extreme pleasure to see her fume and clench her fists when a student would say “i need help” across the classroom and she would move to get up and they would say “oh not you miss, im waiting for vicky.” jesus christ the only time ive ever felt a comparable high was when i was at a halloween party in college where i was literally so zooted i couldn’t move.

it got worse over time, her getting more and more angry, my ego growing larger and larger. i was a huge bitch in high school, i really thought i was the smartest bitch in the room at any given moment. severe main character syndrome. imagine that kind of person actually being right for 45 minutes out of every day. can you even comprehend the kind of frustration that would create? in a room full of little sociopaths who dont give a shit about anything but getting this joke of a class over with so they can graduate? your first real teaching job and they look right past you, the teacher, to this annoying little shit whose grades are completely abysmal? how are they managing to learn anything from a child who can barely speak in front of more than 10 people? who turns cherry red in the face of literally every authority figure in the building except you? who can’t concentrate and stay still in one spot for more than five minutes? all of your other classes behave! they listen! they sit down and shut up and do the packets! so what fucking gives!!!

so you say “fine, since you all HATE ME so much i just won’t teach then!!!” on literally week fucking ten of teaching. and instead of prostrating themselves before you, begging you to like... point at transparencies and read directly from powerpoints i guess.

and they all collectively say “okay” and let the chipmunk child flutter between desks and help them memorize formulas and mnemonic devices and shit. surely her grades will suffer if she’s constantly dealing with other people and you’ll have justification that her horseshit is “distracting” and “a detriment to her studies”. she got bored gave up on that after two days after nothing changed.

then we did the midterm.

except at the end of the exam packet was something we never learned because again, she was going through the book chronologically. because i actually enjoyed the chem book (so much that i stole it when the year was up lmao), i knew the material.

it was about lewis dots/structures. i couldn’t tell you a damn thing about it today but in december 2010 i absolutely knew that shit. i didnt have too much of a problem with it in the exam, but the students who had gotten to that point were complaining and at first she pulled that “you should have been studying independently uwu” shit but the class was about to get loud during exam period so she shushed us and said that when we get to that point, just stop, and she’ll mark it correct during grading, no harm no foul just keep it quiet. one of the more confrontational students called horseshit and said theres no way we’re trusting that and there’s definitely no way anyone will keep an entire classroom cheating at the instruction of the teacher quiet.

i offered to teach it.

she scoffed, rolled eyes, said “sure fine but you can’t get your exam back” and i said “okay.” so when everyone was to the point in the exam, we piled them all on her desk and i used the whiteboard to briefly and quietly explain lewis dots, used the book examples and problems, and helped the other kids understand. there were a couple exam questions that were lifted straight from the book problems so i skipped those. while teaching i realized i had gotten a couple wrong which sucked :( it was an incredibly stupid experience overall, and no teacher worth the paper their certification is printed on would have allowed that to happen. and fucking yet.

anyways everyone but me got their exams back and finished it and many of us passed, only a few of them did particularly well.

discussing the chem exam with friends who also took the chem exam, many students found their anecdote about the lewis dots to be confounding, for you see, the exam we took was not, in fact, the midterm, but the god damned final.

she had us taking the fucking final because she didnt read the fucking folders which read “midterm” and “final exam” on them

she was reprimanded severely and we all had to take the exam on different days, in different classrooms, sitting very far apart. after that she hated me even more. like girl it was your fault lmao i am literally a teenager grow up lol. anyways you can imagine how much more fucking insufferable i became, knowing how miserable she was.

it all came to a head in february when some students were giggling quietly following a minor fuck up on her part regarding bellwork. they were making fun of her like “are you sure thats not tomorrows bellwork lol” and a friend next to me did the “hey i need help wait no miss not you sorry” thing and when i answered him, she solidly snapped. blah blah YOURE SOOOO DISTRACTING blah blah YOU THINK YOURE SOOOO SMART DONT YOU blah blah blah and she was like demanding i leave the room and shouting at the top of her lungs at me “ YOU POISON THE MINDS OF EVERY OTHER STUDENT HERE. YOU’RE POISONOUS VICTORIA, YOU’RE A VIRUS IN THIS CLASSROOM.”

i will never forget that line as long as i live. it was like crack to me. i moved to open the door to leave and the vp opened it first. he escorted me to the office and asked me what happened, then told me to keep my head down in class from now on, and that if i wanted to help my friends i should give them my number and help them out on our own time. i was like “bro thats really stupid” and he was like “thats all we can do right now but i promise we’re working on it”

i lasted the rest of the year giving smug smiles as we did packet after fucking packet for the rest of the year. they were all take-home work. i wasnt comfy giving my number to my enemies. the class camaraderie ended.

the final was altered. my class took a different final than the rest of the normal chem classes.

i started 12th grade and got a solid case of senioritis. i told that story to anyone who would listen. while it was happening, i obviously told my favorite teacher everything as it happened. when i mentioned it senior year he was like “oh yeah i forgot about her,

she was fired over the summer.”

[arcticdementor]

The devout and observant Christian is undoubtedly aware of the precarious state of the faith in our modern world and is becoming increasingly open to out-of-the-box solutions. One such possible solution is to take a cue from our bearded Amish neighbors and form rule-based religious communities—but maybe without the horse and buggy.

A brief peak at the current state of American Christianity should disabuse anybody of the notion that this is unnecessarily drastic.

America’s traditional Mainline Protestant denominations are bleeding out so quickly they will likely be gone within 20 years. That is not my prediction, but their own. The ELCA (the main Lutheran branch) projects they’ll only have 16,000 worshippers by 2041; the PCUSA (the main Presbyterian branch) lost almost 40% of their members in the last decade, causing one analyst to note, “At its current rate of shrinkage the PC(USA) will not exist in about 20 years;” and data for the Episcopal Church shows the same 20-year timeline until the denomination runs out of people in the pews.

More conservative denominations used to chuckle at these headlines and say, “If only they preached the Gospel instead of liberal activism, they’d be growing like us.” But they don’t say that anymore. The Southern Baptist Convention, the largest of the Evangelical churches, has lost 14% of their members since 2006; the Methodists are losing members while in the middle of a brutal split; and for Catholics, according to Bishop Robert Barron while speaking at the 2019 bishops’ annual conference, “Half the kids that we baptized and confirmed in the last 30 years are now ex-Catholics or unaffiliated.”

There is one major exception, though: the Amish—a mustard seed that is growing into a large tree in front of our eyes. The Amish arrived in the United States shortly after their founder, Jakob Ammann, split with the Mennonites in 1693 for being too lax on enforcing their communal rules, as laid out in the Dordrecht Confession of Faith. For the next 200 years, the Amish were just a few eccentric families in Pennsylvania that spoke an archaic Swiss German. By 1920, these few families had grown to 5,000 people and since then have doubled about every 15 to 20 years, including between 2000 and 2020 when they doubled to 351,000.

Unless something changes drastically within their culture, this doubling is projected to continue. One demographer, Lyman Stone, showed that at their current rate of growth, they will easily make up a majority of the United States in 200 years. This means the current moment may mark the halfway point between them arriving as a small band of friends and their inheriting the most powerful nation on the planet. They may seem like a backwards remnant of the past, but in reality, they will almost certainly play a major role in the future. This will become more evident after they soon dwarf more well-known churches like the Episcopalians and Lutherans.

…

So, when virtually all other Christian groups are seeing plummeting, or at best stagnant, numbers, why are the Amish seeing growth like this? The answers people typically give are that they have a very high birth rate and an over 90% retention rate. But that’s like saying someone is wealthy because they made a lot of money and then saved most of it. It begs the question—how? How do they have such large families—with 6 or 7 children per woman—while the country at large has a below-replacement rate of 1.6 children? And how are they able to keep all those children within their communities?

I believe it all comes down to one thing—the Code—or as the Amish call it, the Ordnung.

The Amish Ordnung is different in each community, but if it strays too far, other communities will no longer associate with that community; so there are limits. While outside observers will just see strict rules about hats and beards and technology use, the Amish see the glue that holds them together as a people.

It’s very important to realize that each rule is chosen as a group and with the goal of strengthening individual virtue (especially humility), family and community ties, and their faith.

As an example, most Amish communities don’t allow phones in their homes, but it’s not because they think phones are inherently evil and ban them completely. They often have shared phone booths at the end of the street to use when necessary and at their places of work. They just don’t have phones in the home because they believe it will take away from the purposes of a home—things like family bonding, chores, and recreation. Nobody who has sat in a room of family and friends all silently swiping at their phones can tell me their concern isn’t warranted.

…

The success of this model was discussed by Eric Kaufmann, a political-demography scholar at the University of London, in his provocative 2010 book, Shall the Religious Inherit the Earth?: Demography and Politics in the Twenty-first Century. Kaufmann noted the growth of groups like the Amish and the Haredi Jews (often called the Ultra-Orthodox) and attributed it to their birth rates and strong communities. Haredi Jews, for example, who also live by strict community codes, were only a few percentage points of the Israeli schools in 1960 but are now about a third of students, and he predicts they will very soon eclipse secular Jews. Haredi growth in Brooklyn, New York, is seeing similar growth, with high birth rates and retention.

…

Laurence R. Iannaccone’s 1994 study “Why Strict Churches Are Strong,” which has been frequently cited and confirmed since, gives more detail on the success of certain community codes.

Iannaconne found that groups can be strict on items as long as they provide a “close substitute.” Think, for example, of banning social media but then providing a lot of new in-person social opportunities to make up for that sacrifice.

“Strictness works,” he says, but the rules can’t be so strict they make people miserable and drive them away, or as Iannaconne says, “Arbitrary strictness will fail just as surely as excessive strictness.” The rules do have to be strong enough, though, to keep “free-riders” from claiming the benefits of the community without participating. He called these rules “costly signals,” like the sacrifices the Amish make by limiting their clothing styles and technology use. A person would be very unlikely to go through all of those costly steps for community benefits they could get more easily elsewhere. By eliminating free-riders—whose “mere presence dilutes a group’s resources, reducing the average level of participation, enthusiasm, energy, and the like”—they see the reverse, very high levels of participation, enthusiasm, and energy.

It’s not just Amish and Haredi Jews that have seen success with following a community code beyond the laws of the state—think of the monastics who survived in far-flung places relying on The Rule of St. Benedict; knights that followed the Codes of Chivalry; bands of cowboys on the American frontier who stuck close to the Code of the West, which gave detailed guidance on passing strangers on the trail, when to tip your hat, and with which hand you should hold your whiskey; and the tribes along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border who have followed the Pashtunwali code since pre-Islamic times.

…

Modern Christians interested in starting a rule-based community would need to create some real benefits that are harder to come by in society at large. I’d suggest the basic benefits of a traditional community (help with childcare and schooling, coherent customs on dating and marriage, providing purpose and companionship to the elderly, cultural celebrations and gatherings, friendship, and assistance during hardship) would be plenty.

Then, they could agree together on some basic rules that are costly enough to separate the serious from the free-riders while not being arbitrary or unnecessarily strict. Targeting the rules toward areas that are particular downfalls for modern Americans (promiscuity, pornography, social media, screen-addiction, substance abuse) would be a good start. Agreeing to forego these in this time and culture would almost certainly be a costly enough signal.

Also, many of the rules should take into account issues like abuse of power, cults of personality, convenient personal revelations from God, sexual abuse, and a host of other issues inherent to tight-knit communities (and larger ones for that matter). The ability for a trusted leader to turn out to be an evil psychopath should never be underestimated, so rules should take that likelihood as a given and guard against it. The Amish, for example, draw straws to choose their leaders to avoid jockeying for power.

One last consideration is to what extent “walling yourself off from the modern world,” as Kaufmann said, is appropriate. Kaufmann said that was the best strategy for growth, but growth is not the only thing to weigh. There are also things like loving your neighbors, having an influence on the greater culture, and not stifling curiosity and creativity. Some walls are necessary, like between a teen boy and pornographic websites or between a child and an activist teacher, but a balance between walls and open spaces should be carefully pursued as a group. For example, language is used as a wall for the Amish (who speak Pennsylvania Dutch) and the Haredi Jews (who largely speak Yiddish), but that would likely be a step too far for most communities, as would their highly-detailed clothing restrictions.

…

Out-of-the-box? Sure. But with the exponential growth of the Amish and similar rule-based communities (and our own failure to find a workable model for modern Christian life) it may be a paradigm to consider. Even without our participation, it will certainly be how a fair amount of future Christians will live.