stories from 2011

Before the BAU

I had an idea the other day and I thought it would make a good CM x reader fic  where a case that the reader worked on comes back to haunt her. also this will be set in the future probably 3 years after season 12 but Reid is not in jail. Also there will be some references from pervious seasons that I’ll use and also there is one that isn’t to obvious so if you do find then let me know as it will be mentioned later on if I make this a multi-fic.  

It may or may not be a multi fic but if you guys do want it to be a multi fic then don’t hesitate to message me! So I hope you enjoy it and requests are open so go send me your requests if you have any!

Tags: @hanny-bananny


Originally posted by toyboxboy

“DANIEL KNIGHT, FBI! PUT THE GUN DOWN AND LET HIM GO!“ Emily shouted as she, Rossi, Reid and Tara aimed the their guns at Daniel.  

“NO! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! HE’S A TRAITOR! HE BETRAYED HIS COUNTRY! HE DESERVES TO DIE, JUST LIKE ALLL THOSE OTHER TRAITORS!” Daniel shouted as kept hold of the traumatised hostage.

Just then Y/N came in unarmed and just in her bulletproof vest with her arms up in the air“Daniel, I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N of the FBI’s State Department and I need you to calm down for me okay?” Y/N said as she signalled to the others to holster guns, whilst Daniel pointed the gun at her

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misha-little-bean  asked:

hey, I know I'm a little late to ask this but, from where did you take that thing when jensen showed Call Me Maybe to misha in whms? It was just from your head or did you hear jensen talking about listening to this song or something like that? (sorry for my english, I'm brazilian)

oh whenever i need them looking at some popular thing/viral video on the internet, i look up what was popular during the year the chapter’s set in and i pick one that seems like something misha and jensen would find amusing. it’s a pet peeve of mine when a fic is like “the year is 2008 and everyone uses tablets and dean saw the new wonder woman movie that just came out.”

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((WE DON’T TALK ABOUT ZOURABELL. NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW WHERE SHE IS!))

George Harrison and head gardener Maurice Milbourne, Friar Park, from George’s camera. This image is included in the book Living in the Material World, and was previewed by Rolling Stone in September 2011. Photo © Harrison Family.

“Hours and hours. I bought him [George Harrison] one of those lights you put on your head. He wasn’t just out in the garden, he was IN the garden. He would walk out the door and come back in with the tiniest little thing and he’d go, ‘Look at that!’ - and he’d hand you the tiniest flower.
He’d notice things. We’d walk in the grass and he’d bend over and go, ‘Oh, look at that little guy’ and it would be a bug. I’d say, ‘How did you see that?’ He was just really present.” - Olivia Harrison in response to the question How much time did he spend in the garden?, The Sun, 12 June 2009 [x]

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“In Engines of Desire, Livia Llewellyn’s debut collection of short stories from 2011, reality was just another raw material to be stretched and reworked,” says our critic Jason Heller. “Llewellyn’s follow-up collection, Furnace, is a slightly slimmer volume, but it doesn’t skimp when it comes to her distorted vision. Beautiful and hideous in the same breath, its 13 tales of erotic, surreal, existential horror pack a logic-shattering punch.”

Find the full review here.

– Petra

Do you ever find random songs on your iPod that you never remember listening to and sometimes they’re good

I stopped watching Glee awhile ago, but when I was a big fan of the show my mom and I went to Payleyfest 2011 in LA where Darren atteneded. The story behind this is that I was in a crowd of people trying to get his autograph and he mistakenly said that he already signed mine ( which he didnt so 16 year old me was pretty pissed). This past weekend while we were backstage I told him the story from 2011 he laughed and said  "Hell hath no fury like an angry sixteen year old” also “ IM NOT EVEN IN THIS!”(so tried to draw himself after he signed it). Needless to say 16 year old me was thrilled about this. I also thought the story was funny enough to share.

Film Review: Palo Alto

Dir. Gia Coppola
Score: 6.3


Let me tell you something: James Franco simply does not care. He doesn’t care that you’re tired of seeing his leering visage on books, magazines and movie screens. He doesn’t care that you’ve grown exponentially weary of hearing about his latest interests, be they directing, painting, earning a PhD. in multiple disciplines, writing fiction, or attempting to pick up underage girls via Instagram. He likely doesn’t care that you are largely unimpressed with his ever-growing body of work, including his most recent film roles, in which he’s stretched his artistic limits in both unfortunate, would-be blockbusters (Oz The Great and Powerful) or sad-sack indie showcases (As I Lay Dying, which he also directed), or that he currently has no fewer than a dozen upcoming films in post-production at the moment. He probably also doesn’t care that you actually thought he was really good in Spring Breakers, playing a cornrowed white-boy drug baron who lives to impress the nubile ladies of his harem. 

Franco doesn’t care because, for all his irritating industriousness, he’s not about success, at least in the strictly critical/financial sense. He’s too busy removing the creative filters and blockages that plague the rest of us and pursuing any damn thing he can conceive of, which, frankly, is exactly what any of us should be doing if we were ever lucky enough to be in his position of fame and opportunity. 

Given that, we can at least be mollified by the fact that he didn’t actually direct the film of his own collection of short stories from 2011, thankfully, that job went to Gia Coppola, who has composed an interesting if somewhat flawed teen lament. 

It’s a familiar tableau: A well-to-do community, comprised of fractured families, whose children are disaffected, damaged and, in some cases, downright dangerous. In short order we meet April (Emma Roberts), a sweet-faced girl whose hunky soccer coach (Franco, ironically the least convincing of the actors) begins to romance, not entirely against her wishes. April is good friends with Teddy (Jack Kilmer, sporting River Phoenix’ unhinged locks), an amiable stoner, who nevertheless gets himself into trouble when he hangs around Fred (Nat Wolff), the aforementioned dangerous kid, so filled with pompousness and egocentrism, he puts everyone around him at risk. There’s also unfortunate Emily (Zoe Levin), a sad girl given to finding love by any means necessary, often at the cost of her own self-worth, sliding between bathroom doors and servicing boys like the hateful Fred at his whim. 

The film skips around the lives of its myriad characters, looking in on them as they make fateful decisions and attempt to live with the results– April hooks up with her coach, only to find she’s not the only young player he’s had his eye on; Teddy gets in a car accident while wasted and has to do community service as a result; Fred goes further into self-destructive madness, a result, we are given to suspect, that comes from his father’s sexual abuse; Emily finally seems to disavow Fred, perhaps to move onto bigger and better things. 

The thing is, for all the (largely deserved) grief Franco takes for being such an artistic gadabout, there’s actually a lot to chew on here. In that, Franco’s work is aided greatly by the surprisingly assured debut of writer/director Coppola, Francis Ford’s granddaughter. The 27-year-old proves skilled in the family business, getting strong performances out of her young leads and getting the right pitch for her scenes. In a sex scene between despondent, lost Emily and the irascible Fred in her childhood bedroom, Coppola has her camera focus instead on the ceramic figurines, dried flowers, and mossy stuffed animals that still surround Emily’s bed: a painful call-back to a time when she was shrouded in hope and innocence instead of the gangly arms of a puerile emotional predator. It’s a note the film gently hits throughout, the happy innocence of the characters’ younger siblings (or, in April’s case, her coach’s son, whom she routinely babysits) in direct contrast to the lost, jaded adolescent souls they will eventually become.

But rather than continually soak her audience in the briny flush of total nihilism, Coppola is wise enough to find a range of notes in her characters. Teddy, for one, can be every bit as aggravatingly callous and irresponsible as his bud Fred (one appreciates his mother warning her son to stay away from that terrible influence), but in the same breath – as when he draws an endearing portrait of an elderly woman at the rest home he’s been assigned – he still shows signs of a residual sweetness. In teen-dirge tone we’re somewhere between the pitiless grit of Larry Clark and the sunny sweetness of Amy Heckerling. 

Coppola has also culled an interesting cast – calling in some family favors, one suspects – including a fey Val Kilmer as April’s writerly stepfather and Talia Shire as April’s guidance counselor – amongst her young charges. If Franco is indeed the cast’s weak link, she smartly steers clear of him as anything other than a basic plot device for April. Like the other adults in the film, he lies far out on the periphery of the teens’ lives, a distant narrative provocateur with little direct sway in their lives. 

The teens swerve around from house party after house party (implied: not a great deal of fully invested parents protecting their precious children from themselves), drink great gulps of booze, do whatever drugs they can get their hands on and fool around indiscriminately with one-another, but there are still enough signs of hope – at least for everyone other than Fred – to keep from total despair. 

So disparage Franco all you want, roll your eyes at whatever new scheme he’s concocted (a documentary!), and tweet about it unmercifully. Just understand that in this he couldn’t care less about your opinion: What he does, he does for reasons other than our validation, which is annoyingly commendable.

Interview with BuzzFeed

I recently reread that Vanity Fair cover story about you from 2011 during which your life seemed pretty unlivable because of the paparazzi. Have things improved at all?


Rob: “I remember doing that interview, and I thought I was, like, telling jokes. Then the interview comes out and it sounds like I’m about to kill myself.”



Oh! Part of it was her commenting on what she observed about what your life was like.


Rob:I was, like, How have you observed this? We just sat in someone’s house. Whatever. I guess from an outside perspective, there’s a period of contraction in your life where you have to get used to what feels like your life becoming impossibly smaller. But that was about four years ago. I felt a little funny then. But you realize what you like doing, and suddenly it becomes easier. Some people get OK getting photographed doing their groceries or going out of whatever. I realized I cannot handle that at all. And so, I just don’t go to places where I get photographed. And as soon as I made that decision — don’t worry about it, stop complaining about it — it was a massive weight taken off.”



So, there are ways to live your life not being photographed?


Rob:Yeah. 100%.”



Even here in L.A.?


Rob:There are a very limited amount of places you can go. If you go to The Grove, you’ve got to accept something is going to happen.”



You can’t go to the Apple Store at The Grove.


Rob: “I miss that place. Watching the fountains!”



So, you like living in Los Angeles? I mean, you could live wherever you want.


Rob: “I always thought I was going to move back to London, but London’s changed so much since I left. A lot of my friends have left and stuff, or they have families. It’s different. Also, my main interest in my life at the moment is film, and this is the best place to be for film. Also, I like the kind of levity of living here as well. People want to get stuff done — they’re not downers all the time. In a lot of big cities, most people are just, like, Oh, god, it’s impossible. People aren’t like that in L.A. And I really like it.”



In that Vanity Fair interview, you said you admired Charlie Sheen.


Rob: “I did?”



I’m sure it was very of the moment! You said you liked that he was a crazy person who doesn’t give a fuck. And in The Hollywood Reporter recently, you talked about being a fan of Harmony Korine’s for what I imagine are the same reasons. Could you not give a fuck if you tried?

Rob:I do, in a way. But I don’t want people to hate me. I basically do whatever I want. But one of the aspects of what I want is, I want people to like me!”