#also the person with the hurt finger was a co-worker who died in another dream the other week

[unamused-kookaburra]

Binge watching the walking dead the last few days made me dream about it last night but it was mainly set on the farm and the biggest issue was someone hurting their finger and me being put on the spot to diagnose it because 'take some ibuprofen and rest it' wasn't good enough apparently. Also Akiyama from yakuza was there.

[foodieforthoughts]

When the ball drops

Summary: It's your third year in the Big Apple and you still haven't found your midnight kiss for when the ball drops, until tonight.

Pairing: Henry x Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff!!!

A/N: Happy New Year to everyone! ✨ Watching the ball drop on New Year's Eve in Times Square is my ultimate bucket list! Also not beta read, so don't mind the errors, just had to get done in time before @infinite-shite celebrates New Year's before the rest of us! This baby deserves all the love in the world ❤️

*divider by @firefly-graphics

Title: When the ball drops

The cackle of people's laughter ringed through the pub as the hours ticked by. In contrast to the cold winter air of New York, the inside of the enclosed space felt warm. You quickly pulled on your apron and slid behind the bar, relieving your co-worker from their shift. He hugged you for the New Year that was to ring in about an hour later, happily weaving through the crowd towards the staff exit.

You sighed, grabbing the dish cloth to clean some glasses.

The excitement of coming to the Big Apple had quickly died down for you. You had dreamed of living in the city like the various shows potrayed, feeding lies that everything is magical and full of opportunities in this concrete jungle. But you could disagree with all the contradictions between facts and fictions and align them in a PowerPoint presentation. Not only were you yet to secure your dream job, you lived in a mediocre place with little to look forward to everyday.

Another sigh left your lips, your shoulders slumping despite the merriment around.

"That would be the second time you sigh." The crisp accented voice of a stranger sounded from across you. "What's the matter, love?"

You knew who he was. You ogled at his pictures on a regular basis, especially when he became Superman. But he looked nothing like the Henry Cavill you saw on the red carpets. Clad in a plain blue shirt, jaw sprinkled with the hint of a stubble and hair combed to perfection, Henry titled his head at you with a smile. You looked around at the other patrons, unsure if he was talking to you indeed.

Henry chuckled at your look of confusion. He took a seat at the barstool and grabbed the menu from the stand. With a dish cloth still inside the glass tumbler, you stared at the Hollywood heartthrob. The pub you worked at was frequented with celebs on a regular basis, the only downside being you usually worked for the day shift which meant by the time you rolled out of work, the big shots were only just waking up.

"Can I get-"

"Guinness?" You interrupted him. You meant to say it in your head but the word left your mouth before you could control your lips.

But Henry didn't flinch. He just smiled widely, the dimples in his chin dipping charmingly and his eyes shining like the brightest star under the flickering strobe lights. He slid the menu back towards you and clasped his hands together.

You blinked your eyes several times to rid yourself of the flutter in you belly as Henry smiled at you softly. He watched as you got him a glass and filled it up with his beer. Your hands trembled so much with the nervousness of serving an A list actor, who not only was doing well in industry but was exceptionally sexier in person, that you were worried the foam gathered at the top would dribbled down the sides. Noticing your struggle, Henry extended his hands and placed them over yours to secure his glass.

Electricity. In the most clichéd scenarios of romance movies, you felt a jolt of electricity when your hands touched his, the sparks travelling down your spine to your toes. Sucking in a sharp breath you handed him the glass, chiding yourself over your hyper aware mind.

"What is a pretty lady like you working in a bar at this hour?" He asked, sipping his fermented pint of alcohol.

"Coworker has plans with his girlfriend, like everyone tonight." You shrugged your shoulder, going over to another customer ordering drinks. You could feel Henry's eyes on you as you readied the customer's order. The sound of giggling girls pulled your attention just as the man left with his drink.

You walked back to where Henry sat, nursing his beer. "Anything to go with that?" you enquired, rearranging the shot glasses under the bar counter.

"I am still wondering how, in the world, a pretty woman like you, is stuck here."

You scoffed, more to yourself than him. "Because this supposed pretty woman is single as fuck." The mirth in your voice hid the sense of self pity edging at the corners of your mind. It had been three years since you had first arrived in the city with a possibility of reaching for the stars in both personal and professional life. You had been left disappointed with the jerks and assholes you ended up with, ultimately sitting at home and questioning your choices in men.

You noted the softness creasing at the corners of Henry's eyes. The last thing you wanted was to be seen as a miserable bartender at the end of the year, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. "What is superman doing at a bar, in New York, alone?"

Henry chuckled. His gravelly thick laughter ringing louder than the music in your ears. "I was just stopping by the city, thought I'll stay to understand what the big deal is with the ball drop."

"Oh my God. Watching the ball drop and kissing at midnight is the most romantic thing you can do with your partner. You should be at Times Square!" Your excitement over the whole New Year's Eve shenanigan was flowing through in your speech.

"Too crowded." He shook his head, groaning and sipping his beer.

You rolled your eyes. "As opposed to this cramped pub?"

Henry chuckled again, throwing a wink at you. You felt the familiar flutter in your belly. You peered at him under your lashes, Henry seemed to be having his eyes only for you tonight. The giggling ladies were desperately trying to grab his attention while sipping on their Margheritas wearing their embellished dresses with low cuts and frills. You glanced down at yourself and frowned. Over the faded blue jeans and white t-shirt, you wore the black apron with the pub's insignia on the left breast. You suddenly became profoundly aware of how 'basic' you might look in comparison to the other ladies.

Self doubt clouded your mind. You politely smiled at Henry and hurried to the other side of the bar to serve the other customers. Maybe Henry only wanted someone to play the horizontal hokey-pokey with him for the night, or maybe he was bored and since you were obligated to talk nicely with him, he had pitched a conversation. Whatever the reason, you did not like how the multiple scenarios would end. You knew your feeble, fragile heart. You would get hurt, one way or another.

"Hi," Henry appeared again in front of you. He had his beer in his hand, his other elbow resting on the counter. "Did I offend you in some way?"

"No. But you are pretty much making me realize, how miserable my life is." Your voice sounded bleak against the booming voices. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you watched the couples snuggle up to each other. It had been ages since you had felt the loving embrace of a man, even longer since you had shared a meaningful kiss with someone special.

"What would you have been doing instead?" Henry's voice pulled you out of your desolated reverie.

"I would be in Times Square, with my significant other, which I don't have. We would get some drinks while standing on the outskirts of the crowd and watch the countdown."

There was a stir of activity in the pub as someone announced that there were only 90 seconds to the ball drop. You hadn't even realized that time had passed so quickly whilst you had juggled your conversation with Henry.

"Well, you have the drinks," Henry reached forward to grab a glass and poured half of his beer in the empty tumbler. "We are at the outskirts of the crowd since everyone is huddled near the TV." You nodded as you watched the couples gather near the enormous flat screen mounted on the wall. "We aren't at the Times Square, but we are in New York."

The countdown read 60 seconds with the red numbers counting backwards. Henry stood up and leaned forward on the counter. You watched with bated breath as he grabbed the strap of your apron and pulled you towards him.

His hand rested lightly on your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. The smell of beer, his perfume and musk enveloped you, bundling you in everything that signified him. You gazed into his cerulean eyes, the fleck of brown going dark against the blue ocean. Your hands hung by your side, flabbergasted by the surprising turn of events.

"I might not be your significant other," His breath washed over your heated face, his eyes transfixed on yours. "But we can perhaps change that."

"Happy New Year!"

Like the fireworks going off on the One Times Square Building, when your lips collided with his, there was a burst of colorful sparks celebrating the union of two people from across the pond. Henry pulled your face closer to his by grabbing behind your head, his fingers threading through your hair. You finally could think straight as you moaned into the kiss, holding onto the collar of his shirt as the pub erupted with loud cheers. In that moment, everything seemed perfect in the world. You felt your legs turn to jelly as Henry pulled back, breathing through his mouth, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth.

The smug smile on his face returned as he sat back on his barstool. You grabbed onto the counter for support as you gulped lungful of air.

"Did that count as something for when the ball drops?" He asked, sipping his beer and watching you from the brim of his glass.

You nodded. The heat on your cheeks traveled down to your chest, a grin spreading on your lips. Biting your lip you reached for the other glass of beer Henry had poured. "Happy new year to me." You announced before clinking your glass with Henry's.

✨HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS✨

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, November 30

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: The palace lured Princess Diana into death trap 

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Sienna Miller shooting Anatomy of a Scandal, former soap star Wanda De Jesus and longtime partner Jimmy Smits take a walk in Brentwood, Mama June Shannon gambles on plastic surgery 

Page 3: Billy Dee Williams may walk with a cane but he doesn’t let that stop him from taking the wheel in West Hollywood, Joey Fatone at the Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival, Ariel Winter lugs around a massive roll of bubble wrap in L.A. 

Page 4: Courageous Al Roker has battled health problems for years and now his new devastating prostate cancer diagnosis seals his rep as the unluckiest man on TV

* Patrick Duffy and Linda Purl are proof that love can be just as wonderful in your golden years and now pals predict their whirlwind romance will lead them to an elopement -- the former Dallas star was heartbroken after his wife of 43 years died of cancer in 2017 but Happy Days alum Linda brought joy back into his life -- the greying sweethearts plan to spend the holidays with both their families and then go house hunting for their own place

Page 5: Kanye West thinks he’s so smart and wonderful and creative he’s showering bucks on a project to make a posse of his own personal mini-mes and he sees his clones as his gift to the world claiming it’s his duty to keep himself on the planet at all costs long after he’s gone so death doesn’t have to be the end of Kanye -- Kanye’s wife Kim Kardashian has given Kanye permission to double down on himself -- he’s also fascinated by cryogenics and no one would be surprised if he arranges to have himself stored in a chamber when he dies so he can be revived years later 

Page 6: Britney Spears is having another family feud because she wants her dad Jamie Spears suspended immediately from his role as co-conservator of her estate claiming he installed a new business manager to run her $60 million fortune without consulting his daughter in what she brands a blatant attempt to get full functional control of her assets and books and records in the face of Britney’s objections

* Ryan Seacrest is turning into a bloated recluse as career and personal problems have worried pals thinking about an intervention -- he’s so devastated by his breakup with Shayna Taylor and the end of cash cow Keeping Up with the Kardashians that he’s shutting himself away for days on end and ignoring calls from friends and co-workers and only responding to texts and he’s stuffing his face with junk food and sloppy takeout and pizzas and he’s come close to belching on camera a few times 

Page 7: Devastated widow Paulina Porizkova who her bitter husband Ric Ocasek cut out of his will even though she took care of him in his final days suffered a shocking collapse -- she had gone to Costa Rica with her sons for a change of scenery following the death of Ric who was divorcing her -- she says she had a total nervous breakdown in the airport and they had to put her in a wheelchair to take her back to the plane

* Abby Lee Miller is learning to walking again -- the former Dance Moms star had been using a wheelchair after undergoing chemo for Burkitt lymphoma and having life-saving spinal surgery but she’s now cancer-free and recently underwent an elective operation to help regain mobility -- even though Lifetime canned her plan spinoff Abby’s Virtual Dance Off over charges she’s racist she claims to have a scripted show and two reality series in the works 

Page 8: Mike Tyson says he once used a prosthetic penis loaded with his infant son’s pee to pass a drug test during his hard-hitting heyday in the ring and although he swears he never took performance-enhancing drugs he has been blunt about his history of toking weed and snorting cocaine 

* Pioneer Woman Ree Drummond reveals she has a foster son named Jamar -- Ree who has four children explains she couldn’t talk about Jamar until he turned 18 and state agency restrictions no longer applied 

Page 9: Beloved Jeopardy! host Alex Trebek went to his grave harboring a bitter grudge against talk star and game show rival Regis Philbin -- Alex and Regis began their feud in 2000 when Alex slammed Regis’ Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? as a game show for dummies and Regis was deeply hurt by the dig and shot back that face to face if Alex says anything about Millionaire he’d just look him in the eye and say is that your final answer, Alex? 

Page 10: Inside the modern Mafia -- blogs and blunders and killer cops

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Adam Brody shows off his bod in Malibu (picture), Lamar Odom was seemingly back on a marriage track to wed fitness instructor Sabrina Parr next year but Lamar’s engagement was abruptly called off amid ominous sparks of ongoing trouble for the athlete and Sabrina sad she’s no longer able to be by Lamar’s side while he seeks the help he so desperately needs, Mina Starsiak of Good Bones wants a postpartum tummy tuck pronto, things got bristlier than an old broom for Anne Hathaway groveling her way out of massive fan backlash for her appearance on The Witches remake for the insensitive way she portrayed a three-fingered witch with split hands, behind the scenes at The Tonight Show where Jimmy Fallon recently extended his lucrative contract to host the struggling late-night talk show past 2021 but his head writer Rebecca Drysdale lasted six months of butting heads with Jimmy and his cronies before getting dumped 

Page 13: Katie Holmes and boyfriend Emilio Vitolo Jr. (picture), Sean Stewart in a leg cast in Beverly Hills (picture), Busy Philipps puts on lip gloss on the NYC set of Girls5Eva (picture)

Page 14: Dave Grohl got scared stiff recording an upcoming album in an eerie L.A. home reportedly rocking with paranormal activity and when he got nosy about the place’s past he apparently got answers from the landlord along with an NDA form meant to keep him from spilling secrets, RHOBH star Kyle Richards’ half-sister Kathy Hilton is joining the show; socialite Kathy cold-shouldered Kyle and her husband Mauricio Umansky when he left her husband Rick Hilton’s real estate company to launch a rival biz 

* Fashion Verdict -- Jana Kramer 7/10, Michelle Dockery 4/10, Gretta Monahan 3/10, Charlize Theron 2/10

Page 16: Ailing pop star Phil Collins is being so publicly humiliated by his two-timing ex-wife Orianne Cevey who dashed his dreams of a permanent reunion by secretly marrying another guy pals now fear for his life -- Phil is currently battling Orianne in court over his $38.6 million waterside Miami mansion which she and new husband Thomas Bates have now agreed to vacate but Orianne is demanding half of the home insisting Phil promised her a 50 percent share when they moved into it in 2016 -- Orianne also claims that Phil became a hopeless addict in 2017 hooked on booze and pain pills and after two years of drug hell he was incapable of having sex and he stopped showering and brushing his teeth and had become a hermit 

Page 17: Troubled Jonathan Rhys Meyers crashed his car in Malibu and failed a field sobriety test and was slapped with a misdemeanor DUI 

* Teresa Giudice has found new love with business man Louie Ruelas just two months after divorcing deported jailbird Joe Giudice -- the Real Housewives of New Jersey star who has four girls with Joe hooked up with the dad of two and digital marketing whiz and both are very happy 

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About David Giuntoli 

* Sophia Loren says early in her career she told a director to buzz off when he suggested she surgically alter her nose -- she recalls telling the meddling moviemakers her nose is going to stay there forever and it has a lot of personality 

* Parkinson’s patient Michael J. Fox admits he may be forced to say goodbye to Hollywood because his short-term memory is shot and acting is getting tougher to do 

Page 20: True Crime 

Page 21: Desperate to salvage his tarnished reputation and career Johnny Depp is hoping to hook up with another Hollywood outcast in former co-star Angelina Jolie -- Johnny and Angie first flirted while filming The Tourist in 2010 but at the time Johnny was with Vanessa Paradis and Angie was with Brad Pitt -- Johnny recently reached out to Angie to jumpstart their friendship and he’s been sending her poems written with her in mind and suggestions for book to read and music to listen to and they’ve exchanged a series of emails and texts and talk on the phone quite a bit so Johnny has hope to win her heart and they’re making plans to meet in L.A. very soon but the ball is in Angie’s court and she’s open to having a little fun but don’t count on anything getting too serious 

* Johnny Depp’s career has taken another hit as he’s been axed from the Fantastic Beasts film franchise after a British court determined he beat ex-wife Amber Heard at least a dozen times

Page 24: Cover Story -- Princess Diana was lured to her death by a twisted dirty tricks campaign orchestrated by the palace -- acting at the direction of Queen Elizabeth’s hard-case husband Prince Philip British intelligence officers mounted a clever operation to drive Prince Charles’ emotionally fragile wife to the breaking point and they knew she was frantic and suicidal and vulnerable and played on her worst fears -- Diana’s own brother Charles Spencer has also broken a 25-year silence to expose a plot against the People’s Princess and he reveals forged documents and a whisper campaign hinting at treacherous betrayals fueled her paranoia and desperation and despair and pushed her into a decision that ultimately cost her life 

Page 26: Health Report

Page 30: Rock legend Jerry Lee Lewis vowed to keep wailing ‘til the end but the 85-year-old stroke victim now spends his days listening to his old hits and staring out the window and his health has taken a tragic turn for the worse since he was clobbered by the stroke last year -- he’s hunched over and seems confused and he’s forgetful and can’t remember some of the lyrics to his oldest hits; he tries to play the piano and just can’t because his hands are so stiff and don’t move the way he wants them to 

* Mel B claims she’ll go bankrupt if a judge doesn’t lower the $500,000 she’s been ordered to pay her ex-husband and if the sum isn’t modified she will in all likelihood have to file for bankruptcy -- Mel and ex Stephen Belafonte divorced three years ago and have been slugging it out in court ever since

Page 44: Straight Talk -- lifestyle queen bees Martha Stewart and Gwyneth Paltrow are at each other’s throats but their furious feud is hard to understand because they’re not really in the same business -- Martha is the ultimate homemaker peddling recipes and furnishings and decorating tips while Gwyneth’s New Age-style Goop website is a sleazy sex shop with items normally found in tacky joints along West Hollywood’s sleazy Santa Monica Boulevard 

Page 45: Sinead O’Connor is taking a break to enter a one-year trauma and addiction treatment program after losing a loved one and she admits she’s been addicted to weed for 34 years but became briefly addicted to another drug following her loss

* Sean Connery’s wealthy widow Micheline Roquebrune could end up behind bars and fined a whopping $28 million if convicted of stiffing the Spanish taxman -- the tax-cheat case spans back to 1999 when Sean sold their Marbella mansion on the glitzy Costa del Sol; Connery’s lawyer and the mayor of Marbella and six other elected officials were jailed over a tax-cheat scam involving the property but in 2014 Sean was told he wouldn’t be prosecuted but now Spanish bigwigs say the case has not gone away and want to indict his widow for tax fraud

[reminiscing-writer]

The Past 2/2

Prompt:

Part 2 to The Past mini story I wrote earlier :)

Warning:

Kidnapping, sexual and physical abuse, crude language, violence.

—————

-Readers POV-

Your head feels like it’s so much heavier than it should be, and you try to open your eyes. You try and recollect what had happened. How you were in the position you are.

And then you remember.

You remember seeing him. He broke into your apartment, and he had kidnapped you.

You look around at your surroundings and yourself. You were still in the T-shirt you fell asleep in, and your hands were bound behind you, zipties from the feel of it. Your body was tied to the corner of what seemed like a dingy old basement.

You hear the door open and He came down them, stepping very loudly, making sure knew of his presence. You stare at him with disgust. He stops at the bottom of the steps, looking directly at you.

“What. The. Fuck. Do you want?” You spit, venom dripping from every word. He stays silent and begins slowly walking towards you. Your body instinctively starts to move back as he approaches, “I told you to leave me alone, Alexie.” You hiss, not breaking eye contact with the man you once feared.

Three years ago, when you left him in the middle of the night, you had just left a note. A note telling him that you never wanted to see him nor speak with him, ever again. Why would you. He beat you, and groped you. He set out rules, and kept you locked in your bedroom if he was upset. You walked around eggshells with him, and the moment you met Spencer, you remembered, that’s not how you’re supposed to treat someone you love- that’s not how you treat anyone.

Alexie keeps walking towards you. He bends down and gets on one knee before you. Looking intently in your eyes, he strokes your cheek, “You’ve forgotten everything I’ve taught you, haven’t you?” He whispers. Before you can react, he uses the hand on your cheek and pulls it back, slapping you hard. You fall to the side, and a rush of memories flood your brain, as well as tears in your eyes. “You ungrateful little bitch.”

You shuffle back to sit up, only to have him grab a handful of hair, and pick you up, causing a burning in your scalp. You cry out, “Alexie, please,” You try and stand on your feet to ease the pain, but he kicks you in the shin, causing your legs to give out.

Pulling your face in close, he growls, “You’re all mine. I’ll fix you back up. Don’t worry, y/n.” He smashes his dirty lips to yours before throwing you back down.

You hit the floor hard, crying out. Curling up in a ball, you bite your bottom lip, trying not to cry. But, it’s all too much. The memories. The pain. The fact that, you were in fact all his.

-

Spencer sat in his chair in the Bearau, a small blanket over his shoulders, and his eyes glazed over. The once scortching hot cup of coffee, still full, but now completely cold, and untouched, sitting in his hands.

“Spencer?” He heard JJ call for him. He didn’t look up until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, whipping his head up.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “we, um- we got back the lab results for the blood on wall.” She spoke softly, kneeling before him, “It wasn’t y/n’s.”

He releases a small breath of relief. He hadn’t spoke a word in hours. When he got to your apartment, he called Hotch barely getting enough words out to make sense. Hotch and Morgan both came to your apartment within a few moments of the frantic call. They saw the mess of the apartment as well as the mess your boyfriend was. Kneeling and crying into a sweater of yours.

Seeing the scene, they called the CSI team and they bagged and tagged anything they could find for DNA.

Deciding that the apartment wasn’t the best place to be, Hotch called in the rest of the team and that’s where they were all now. In the office, trying to peice together why someone would break into your apartment at 3 in the morning to take you.

“Spencer,” Garcia tries for the hundredth time, “please, we need anything you can tell us. You knew her. She must’ve said something.”

“Play the call again.” He repeats, just wanting to hear his girls voice. The team looks at one another, unsure if it’s a good idea. When Rossi nods to them in assurance, Penelope pulls up the file, and plays it back.

-Spencer’s POV-

“Hello?” You hear your voice answer her call.

“Spencer, please, help.” Her voice squeaked in desperation.

“Y/n?” You had asked her, “What’s wrong?”

“Spencer,” You hear sniffle, the thought of her crying making your stomach turn, “there’s... there’s someone here.”

Your girlfriend had frequent nightmares, “Baby, it was probably just a nightmare, I’m su-“ that’s all it was. A bad dream. It had to be.

“No, no it’s not. He’s here. I can see him. He’s looking for something, I’m hiding.” Your heart drops.

You throw your duvet off yourself. Getting out of bed, you throw on a shirt and sweats, “Y/n, stay exactly where you are.” You grab your keys. “I’m coming, just...” Leaving your apartment, you quickly run down the steps to your car, “just, stay hidden.”

“Please,” you hear her sob desperately,“please, hurry. And please, don’t hang up on me.”

You shove your keys into the ignition and rush towards your girlfriends home. Thoughts running a million a minute, you remember running a red light. Your phone was still up to your ear, and for a minute you hear her just breathing into the phone.

You think, maybe the intruder will leave. Maybe he was just a robber and he got what he wanted. Maybe she’ll be fine.

But you were proved wrong the moment you heard the blood curdling scream from your girls mouth. The scream that made your eyes widen, and your other hand tighten so hard around the steering wheel that your knuckles whitened.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you stepped harder on the gas. You can hear her. Y/n is struggling against this man, while you speed to her house.

The call ends. You’re forced back to the present. You’re breathing is shaky. You’d been crying, as you did every time you listened to the recording. All of the teams sympathetic eyes are on you.

Emily comes in front of you. She kneels down and puts one hand softly on your knee. “Spencer,” she speaks softly, “did y/n ever mention anyone in her life who would want to hurt her?”

You blink hard, and shake your head while rubbing your eyes.

“Think, Pretty Boy.” Morgan pushes, also coming into view. “She’s the type of person who would’ve shared this stuff with you. She trusts you.”

You think hard, racking your brain for previous conversations.

“She...” you start talking slowly, “She, um, once told me about this ex of hers.” Penelope readies her fingers on her keyboard, “They had dated in college, and the way she spoke about him,” you shifted in your seat, feeling uneasy, “she talked about him like he’s hurt her before.”

The teams eyes light up with the new information.

“Did she ever say his name?” Morgan sits down next to you, happy to be finally getting information.

“She once mentioned him as an Alex.” You recall.

Penelope starts clacking away at her keys. “There are... over a hundred Alex’s in all of Penn State.”

“Did they date her first year there, or...?” JJ asks, looking over Garcia’s shoulder.

“Um,” you think back, “I think she was a sophomore, but he was older than her. She said they had watched a movie once,” you finally look up at your team, “21 Jump Street. She had liked it. He didn’t.”

“That’s a 2012 movie.” Penelope keeps typing away, “Okay. So, searching for... Alex, from Pennsylvania State University, who was attending in the year 2012.” She waits for something on her screen for a moment, “We’re down to 36.”

“Check for any with petty offences, maybe, peeping Tom, or theft.” Hotch speaks up.

“20.” Penelope updates.

“He had a dog.” You remember, “Y/n once said he had a dog, but she hated the way he treated it.”

Penelope grins ear-to-ear, “Yes! Okay, we’ve got an Alexie Mason.” she reads off her laptop, “Graduated PennState In 2013. Had a pet dog, that died in an accident, may God rest his soul.” A scowl forms on her face, as she peers at the next bit, “And, would you look at that, he was with y/n for an ER visit.” Her eyes fly across the screen, processing information, “A broken rib. That son of a-”

“You don’t think-” you start, “he wouldn’t have. How could anyone hurt her?” You shrug the shawl off your shoulders.

“We got him, Kid.” Morgan puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “We’ll find her too.”

“She’s strong,” JJ nods, “I’m sure she’s fine.”

But, something was still bothering you. Something was eating away at you. It was probably just a feeling, but it was a damn strong one.

“Derek, when you get your hands on him,” Penelope starts ranting, “don’t you dare spare him. That asshole hurt the only innocent woman in this entire office. And, who knows how long he’s been stalking her. Oh, my poor child, she’s far too frail. He’s already broken her rib once, who knows what else-” you start to zone her out.

You slowly turn your head around, and look at your girlfriends desk. “Penelope,” you grab her attention. When she looks up to you, you put a finger to lips, shushing her.

A very offended Garcia stares at you, mouth agape, as you get up and walk towards y/n’s desk. You grab the large bear off the floor and plop it onto her desk. Staring at it for a bit, you zone out your co-workers whispers and look the bear dead in the eyes.

Bingo.

“Garcia, come here.” You don’t take your eyes of the stuffed toy. She gets up after getting a shrug from Morgan, and stands next to you. You open a drawer, knowing where y/n keeps all her things, and take out a pair of tweezers.

Taking the steel pliers to the bears face, you twist and tug at its’ beady eyes. Plopping them both down in Garcia’s hand, she gasps.

Morgan clears his throat to grab our attention, and Garcia runs to her laptop, “Boy Genius, you just saved the girl.”

“Just for the record,” Emily pipes in, “we’re still clueless.”

Garcia turns her laptop around to show the group, and their eyes widen. The bears eyes which you had removed were tiny cameras. Whoever had given y/n that gift, had been watching her. Watching all of you.

“I can trace this back to where the feedback is being sent,” Garcia turns her screen back around, “we’ll know exactly where they are.”

For the first time in hours, you had felt a weight being slightly lifted on your shoulders.

-Reader’s POV-

You say in the corner of the basement, your knees brought up to your chest. Hugging your bare and bruised legs, you chant to yourself, “They’ll come for you. They’re looking for you. He loves you.”

The door to the basement creaks open, and quickly scurry into the position Alexie had trained you to be in for him. Kneeling, with your head down. Only to speak when spoken to. He never, ever, untied your hands.

You couldn’t tell time in the hell you were in. It felt like days, maybe even weeks had passed. And, in all that time, Alexie had groomed you right back into the scared little girl you tried so hard to run away from.

He got to the bottom of the stairs and smiles as he sees you obeying him. Approaching you, he pets the top of your head and strokes your hair. “How did my Sweet sleep?”

“Well, thank you.” You spoke, very rehearsed, very quiet.

He cocks his head to the side, confused, “Sweet, look up at me.” You oblige. “I said, look up.” Your heart begins racing, as you feel his hand grow heavy in your head. “I said,” he growls, yanking your face up by your chin, “look up, Bitch.”

Instantly you start to shake, trying to verbally defend yourself, “Please, Alexie, it was nothing. I promise.” You plead. You had cried earlier and your eyes were bloodshot red. He hated when you cried.

“I do so much for you,” He growls, lifting you by your jaw, “and, you... you’re just an ungrateful whore.” You’re sobbing, begging him, knowing exactly what the outcome will be.

He throws you down, and kicks you in the stomach, causing you to yelp and curl into a ball. With your hands already tied behind you, he has nothing to hold down as he pushes you down onto your back, and pulls your legs towards him.

Ignoring your screaming, and crying, he smirks, sitting on top of you.

-

You felt dirty. You felt forgotten. But worst of all, you felt as if even Spencer could love you no longer.

You layed in the corner of the room, your eyes too dehydrated to form tears. Your mouth was dry from begging him again and again. Pleading with him that you were sorry. Sorry that you cried. There was a pain between your legs, but that was obvious, because you could feel the dried blood on your thighs from just a few moments ago and also the blood from yesterday, when the same incident occurred. You could feel his semen on your thighs. You could feel more bruises being born on your neck from when he choked you to keep you quiet. You could feel everything physically. It was mentally and emotionally that you were long gone.

You stared at the empty wall infornt of you, not a thought in your mind and not a chant on your lip.

Any little bit of hope you had, was all gone.

-

Maybe you had fallen asleep. That had to be it. Because you were awakened by a slamming of a door. Afraid it was the basement door, you quickly sit up, ready to be positioned. You look up, but don’t see your door open. Instead, you hear voices from upstairs. Which was odd, because Alexie lived alone. You hear shouting, and then one person running, and then a rush of people behind.

While you’re still processing all of this, Alexie rips open the basement door, a butcher knife gleaming in his hand. He points it towards you, walking down the stairs, “YOU! YOU DID THIS! YOU CALLED THEM!”

You cower back into the wall behind you, “No, no, no, Alexie, I didn’t,” you choke your words, scared out of your mind, “I was here with you the whole time, I didn’t. Oh god, I swear, Alexie, I didn’t do anything.” You plead, crying as he approaches you.

You don’t see the people in FBI vests get to the top of the stairs. All you see is Alexie and his angry eyes. He pushes you down and sits on your thighs.

“Alexie Mason! Put the knife down, and stand up.” You hear a man shout loudly. You’re so busy crying to Alexie, you don’t realize it’s Hotch. You don’t realize that JJ and Emily have their guns trained on him also. You don’t realize that Morgan holding back Reid so he doesn’t rush and tackle your ex.

“You’re my perfect little girl now,” Alexie coos, brushing the tip of the knife on your tear stained cheeks. “This might hurt now, but we’ll be happy after, I promise. I love you.” You shake your head, sobbing, your useless hands bound behind you.

He raises the knife into the air and plunges it into your chest. Everything slows down for you. You feel him pull the knife out. You hear someone scream and one more person shout. You hear a loud bang of a bullet leaving it’s chamber. Alexie falls off of you, and to the side, and the knife falls to the floor. Your head falls to the side, and your eyes are tired. So, so tired. You’re breathing is wheezy, and your boyfriend runs and falls next to you. He pulls you onto his lap.

Your ears are ringing, so you can’t hear anything he’s saying. You can barely lip read I’m sorry, don’t close your eyes and you’re going to be okay.

“Spence,” you say, your lips barely moving, “tell me you love me.”

“Y/n, we’re getting you out of here. You’re going to be f-”

“Please. I can’t have him be the last to say he loves me.” You beg, you’re eyes barely staying open.

Your boyfriends tears fall on your face before he buries his face in your neck, “I love you. I love you, I love you.” He cries, “I love you, y/n.”

You nod slowly, with a small smile, “I... I love you too.” You breath out, before you can’t keep your eyes open any longer. Your head falls heavy into his chest, and he quickly jerks his head up.

“Hotch!” He calls out, “Where’s that Medic?!” He holds his girlfriends body in his arms, hugging it close. Still repeating his love to her, still apologizing to her.

-

You swallow hard, your mouth still dry. Shifting, you feel yourself in a bed. Under blankets.

Maybe Alexie was just a big nightmare.

You open your eyes, and are greeted by a dimly lit room. A hospital room. You try and sit up, but quickly wince, feeling a sharp pain- well, everywhere.

You didn’t notice Spencer’s head on the side of your bed, near your hand, so he alertly awoke, confused for a moment. He sees you, awake, and throws a soft arm around your shoulders, and places kiss on your forehead.

“Thank goodness you’re awake,” He whispered, “they were scared we were too late.” He helps you sit up, and props pillows behind you.

-

“How long was I out for?” You ask, opening your mouth for another spoonful of jell-o that your boyfriend insisted on feeding you.

“Two days,” JJ answered, smiling at the sight of Ried feeding you, “You kept getting cold, so we just piled blankents on you.”

You motion to Spencer you’re full, but he opens a third cup anyways, “How long was I taken for?” You ask looking at JJ and Emily.

“Two days.” Em answered.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer whispered an apology to you for the twentieth time. He fully and completely believes that your kidnapping was his fault.

Every bruise, and cut on you. Everytime the doctor says you were raped, or starved, or beat. Everytime you wake up crying from a nightmare.

He blames himself for every single bit of it.

You put your hand on his cheek, “It’s not your fault, Baby, please.”

He turns slightly and kisses your hand, “I love you. Please, don’t forget that.”

“I won’t. I love you, too.” You whisper back, kissing him on his forehead as he comes in close to feed you again.

-

[multific]

Special Girl

Tom Holland x Mute!Reader

Summary: After an awful accident, you learnt how to deal with the consequences , and soon, you found happiness, or did happiness found you?

Warning: mention of an accident, death but I promise this is cute overall

Words in italics are what the reader is writing or signs.

A/N: Just a little something for you guys! I hope your week is going well! Enjoy~

You were able to speak at one point in your life. Your family often say that they miss your laugh and voice.

You still remember that day.

The day that changed your life forever.

The day that took your voice.

You were in the car with your uncle and aunt since you were at their place for the weekend, you were only fourteen.

You remember as the car passed a shop than it came to a stop due to a red light. Then you heard voices, nothing more. A big force pushed you forwards and then you remember spinning.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital bed. Your mother and father was by your side, crying, and happy that you were finally up, and alive.

They explained the situation as best as they could, a car ran into the car you, your uncle and aunt was in, making the car move into the junction as a car forcefully hit you. Both your aunt and uncle died during the impact. You had several head injuries but the worst was yet to come.

Your mother couldn’t tell you due to crying, neither could your father, a lovely nurse came in who explained that a part from the other car nearly stabbed you through your throat, and it made you lose your vocal cords. At that time you didn’t know, but it was on that night you were destined to lose either your life, or your voice.

And now, you were happy that it was the latter.

Sure, you went through a lot. Anger, disappointment more anger and depression. Especially during your teenager years. But now, as you got older, you learnt to live with it and to love yourself like that.

Obviously you learnt sign language as soon as you recovered from the hospital. But since not many people knew sign language, you were left to either text or the good old paper and pen.

But this never stopped you. You were determined to finish collage and get a decent job.

You learnt literature. Since you weren’t able to speak anymore, you learnt a new form of communication and you always admired the poems and writers for being able to do that so naturally.  

You started your career as a writer for a magazine. Since it wasn’t a huge, well-known one, you were able to write (for the most part) what you wished for. But that didn’t really work out, so you quit.

You decided to teach.

There was an organization that worked with mute, blind and deaf people. So, you became a sign language teacher for young children and adults that suffered the same faith as you. And it also comforted them that you went through the same struggle as them.

It wasn’t the best paying job, but at least you had a job that you had a passion for.

Sadly, you never had a real boyfriend, it seemed to you like they didn’t had the time and patience for you. They soon got tired of you texts and messages, even if they knew from the beginning what they were in for.

Little did you know that was about to change.

You were informed by your friends at work that a movie star was to come and spend some time with the children. Kind of like a charity event, it would also make people aware of the situation these kids are in and attract possible donators.

As soon as you were told that the star of the new Spider Man movie would come, you knew who he was.

Tom Holland.

Aka the cute and sexy young actor.

You loved the Marvel movies and to be able and meet or at least see one of the cast members, it was like a dream come true to you.

The next day came quicker that you expected it to.

And soon enough there he was, cameras surrounded him for most of the time. But about an hour or so into his visit, they turned off the cameras, claiming that they have enough footage, and almost everyone left, except for Tom and his assistants. They were still in the room with the children. Tom was only a few feet apart from you talking to Stacey, a lovely little girl who you have been teaching.

You heard him asking her about her favourite colour but Stacey was a rather shy little girl, and you decided to help her open up a little bit. You went over to the table the two was sitting at, Tom looked up at you and you gave him a smile and a wave. Then you looked at Stacey and got her attention.

“Did you know that he has a big secret?” this made the five year old look at Tom then back at you.

“What is it?” she signed and you could clearly see how interested she got.

“Ask him.” you signed and waited. Tom looked a bit confused between the two of you then he saw the little girl started writing.

You secret?

Said the paper.

“You’d like to know my secret?” this confused Tom, what secret was this little girl talking about. In his confusion he turned to the first person that was close to him, which happened to be you sitting in front of him on the other side of the table. You tried to help him, so you quickly drew a small sketch of a spider and then pointed at him. Just like a bulb had been switched on, Tom understood.

“Well, little one, you have to promise me something first.” the little girl eagerly nodded. “You can not tell this to anyone, got it?” she nodded again. Then Tom got the paper from her and wrote on it.

I am Spider Man.

As soon as Stacey read it, she grabbed the sheet, gave Tom a big hug and ran over to you.

“He told me.” she signed. “Look.”

And surely enough she showed you his writing. But before you could react she was running off again to who knows where. As you looked after her you heard Tom’s voice.

“So much about the promise.” you smiled but didn’t look at him. You wanted to stand up and look after the other kids and help you co-workers, but you needed something. “Thank you.” you heard his voice. “For helping me.” you nodded and gave him another smile. He didn’t know this but you signed him a ‘You are welcome.’

You put the paper that you drew the small spider and on and you motioned him so sign it for you, which he did. After that you wanted to stand and leave but he started talking again, and you’d be a fool to leave such a cute, yet handsome man alone.

“So, you are… you can’t talk, right?”

You nodded your head, yes.

“How do you communicate then?” You assumed that he meant those people who didn’t understand sign language so you gestured to him to your phone and to a piece of paper.

“How rude of me! My name is Tom, you might already know that since you work here and you were probably told, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. What’s your name.” you found it cute, he looked taken aback, almost scared, other people did this when they spoke to you for the first time too. But with him, it was rather cute.

You got another paper and wrote your name.

Y/N Y/L/N.

“Y/N.” as he said it aloud, your heart skipped a beat. With his accent it sounded so right. “Nice to meet you.” you nodded once and smiled. He wrote something under your name and then said. “I’m sorry but I will have to go now. It was nice meeting you, though.”

You stood up with him as he gave you the paper, and with a small wave and possibly the cutest smile ever, he walked away.

When you couldn’t see him anymore you looked at the paper he gave you and saw a phone number on it.

***

That is how your love started. 

It started by texts then the dates came. And you found out that Tom is not like any other man. 

He was patient with you, and he would never hurt you. Even when you told him about your past attempt of dating, he assured you, that he would never. And he really wasn’t like them. He was something else, in a good way, he always called you, “My Special Girl” at first you hated it, it made you feel like you weren’t right, but you soon understood his words and realized that he meant it in a good way. 

And from then on, you truly felt special. 

It was now that you met three years ago and it was your anniversary, Tom liked to celebrate the day he met you.

Your life completely made a turn for the better with him. You still had the same job, since you loved helping others, but now you had a rock, someone to go home to.

And the best part?

Tom came with a nice extra, the cutest dog on Earth, Tessa.

Sometimes he would joke about how you love your dog more than him. And it wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. You love for Tessa was different than your love for your boyfriend.

During the time you spent with Tom, he learnt and picked up a few signs, just the basics, but he was getting better and better. He always wished that he would have more time to completely understand your every word, but with his schedule, basics had to do.

It was the middle on the night and the two of you just finished a long session of….loving.

“Where are you going?” he asked you still out of breath.

“To shower.” you signed to him.

“Let me join.” and he did. Although you predicted that he might want to continue in the shower, he never went further than a few heated kisses.

Soon, you found yourself cuddled up, head on his chest as he stroked your back. You always loved to sleep while listening to his heart beat.

“Where should we go tomorrow?” he asked. “I have the weekend off, so I’m completely yours.

You thought about it for a few minutes than signed.

“Zoo.”

“What is this?” he repeated your movements.

Instead of trying to explain by acting it out to him, you used your finger as if it was a pen and “wrote” on his skin.

“Oh, the zoo? Sure.”

“Let’s call your family too.”

“Family? You want my family to come?”

You only nodded.

“Sure, I’ll call Mum in the morning.” he said and he pulled you back onto his chest.

“Let’s sleep now. I love you, Darling.”

“I love you too” you signed to him.

You went to sleep with the thought of how amazing the next day will be. With the love of your life and his family who adored you.

A/N: I thought there there wasn’t enough fanfiction with mute readers, so, I came up with this idea. Hope you all like it!

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[romancingromanoff]

Imagine Being In The MCU And Going On Ellen Part 1/3 (Scarlett Johansson x reader)

Part 2

You’re a guest on the Ellen show and also currently dating Scarlett Johansson. I just really love Ellen and pretending that I’m a part of the Avengers cast family like it’s a huge fantasy of mine that will never come true (rip my hopes and dreams) so I decided to make it three parts haha. BONUS POINTS IF YOU KNOW WHERE CARLA SHAW IS FROM. Reader is of an unspecified gender, I use they/them pronouns. Also, part 3 of What Happens At Disney is coming soon :)

Jumping up and down in front of the mirror in your dressing room you kept trying various dance moves to see how they looked. It was Ellen so of course you had to dance out onto the stage when she introduced you! Though you had technically met with her before at Chris Hemsworth’s birthday party, it was really just a quick “hello,” “how are you,” and a funny comment from her that made you laugh. So nerves were naturally part of the reason why you were so angst at the moment and felt like you had to get rid of a bunch of pent up energy.

Your door opened which almost made you choke on the sip of water you had in your mouth. “Y/N, you’re one in five!” the crew member tapped her watch and you could only respond with a noise that sounded a little bit like “mmhmm” with your mouth still full of your drink. Taking one last glance in the mirror, you flashed some finger guns at your reflection, immediately regretted that cringed decision, then stepped foot out into the hallway where another crew person was waiting to escort you to your place.

From stage right behind the curtain you could hear the audience’s hysteria gradually calming down after they had all won $1000 Target gift cards and Ellen sat down to introduce you. “Our next guest has taken the world by storm since we fell in love with them as Obie’s hilarious best friend, Mason, in the Netflix Original Series ‘Time To Dive.’ After a suspenseful appearance in the modern remake of ‘High Noon’ with John Hamm they joined the Avengers as a recruit with some pretty neat morphing abilities in Marvel’s newest film which is coming out next Friday. Please welcome Y/F/N Y/L/N!”

You were so overwhelmed by everyone in the crowd jumping up and down that a huge smile covered your face as you tried waving to them all while also keeping a beat in your step, which was hard to do when you couldn’t hear the music very well. Approaching the couches that you had watched all of your favorite celebrities sit in was just surreal and Ellen opening her arms up to hug you was the cherry on top. “Hi, how are you?” she said underneath the wave of all the cheering so that only you would hear.

“I’m good, thank you so much! Thank you so much for having me,” you repeated what you last said as you sat down and the clapping had died down.

“So, this is your first time on the show,” Ellen smiled.

“Yes, yes it is. And I’m so happy to be here!”

“Well, thank you so much for taking the time to stop by. I know the press tours Marvel has you doing keep your schedule super busy.” The audience let out a series of “whoos” at the sound of Marvel being mentioned.

“It’s certainly crazy and I never could have dreamed about being a part of something like this but really it’s the fans that keep it going. We owe so much to them.”

“You must have your fair share of crazy run-ins since you, you know, signed a contract with them and everything. How has going out in public changed for you?”

“It’s funny, actually,” you laugh a little bit remembering an incident that occurred about a month ago. “I mean since ‘Time to Dive’ I’ve always had fans come up to me asking for pictures and autographs; stuff like that just at restaurants and a few public places. But since I was announced as a part of the Avengers cast and started filming the run-ins have gotten a lot more frequent and I’ve found that the Marvel fans are very... um... adamant,” you laugh. “They definitely know their stuff which never fails to blow my mind.”

“I guess ‘adamant’ is one way of putting it,” Ellen jokes and you chuckle along with the crowd. “But you actually had someone like demand to take a picture with you after you had just gotten out of surgery? Is that right?”

“Oh my gosh,” your pitch got so much higher when you turned around and saw the picture from that day on the giant screen behind you. “Yeah, so it was just wisdom tooth surgery, nothing super serious but I was pretty drugged up on painkillers and loopy to say the least. Wow, okay, yeah you can see how swollen my cheeks are, aw man, and that gauze in my mouth I just look completely dead!” you remarked on the image of you with your messy bun, glasses, and sweats on as you were being pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair.

“But you were 100% fresh out of the operating room where you were under anesthesia and a complete hot mess?” Ellen laughed as you squirmed in your seat from a mixture of embarrassment and just laughing at how hilarious you looked and how strange the situation was then.

“I don’t know if ‘hot mess’ is how I would put it, but it was definitely strange.”

“And they drug you up pretty well for this surgery, right? Like there are a lot of people who film themselves or get a relative to film them post-surgery because they’re prone to say really crazy things.”

“Honestly, I think that a part of me just thought it was standard procedure,” you admit which makes the audience crack up. “I don’t remember it too well but the fan who’s crouching next to me in the picture basically stopped me and asked for a picture and I was probably just like ‘sure, why not?’ you know? Like everything was normal.”

“Speaking of pictures, there’s a photo of you and one of your co-stars going around that’s been building up a ton of talk over the last six months,” the audience cheers as the screenshot of your instagram post comes up. It’s probably your most favorite photograph in the whole world and you can’t help but smile upon seeing it. You are your girlfriend Scarlett weren’t too public with sharing all of the details about your relationship and you both valued privacy pretty highly. As a celebrity on instagram you were pretty inactive compared to a lot of others your age since you never went live, rarely posted on your story except to promote big press events, and would go weeks or even months before you’d upload something new to your feed. Even though the photo was from six months ago, it was actually the 4th most recent on your profile. Scarlett, of course, didn’t have any social media at all and you respected her wishes to try and keep a low profile online by never posting any photos of her and you, but this picture was the one exception that she had allowed.

“That is just adorable,” Ellen smiled and the audience followed with a giant “awwwwww” which made you blush. “So this was taken on snapchat?”

“Yeah, that’s the dog filter,” you point to Scarlett’s face which has the staple dog ears and nose on her in the center. But she’s also laughing so the big pink dog tongue is sticking out with her face all crunched up as you’re giving her a big kiss on the cheek. “We’ve been dating for a little over a year,” a lot more “awes” and hoots instantly follow which makes you laugh. “But that was the first time we both felt okay with posting a photo of us just being together. It was a surprise for a lot of people; including myself too.”

Ellen gets a mischievous look on her face and leans in really close to you. “You know, it’s funny that you mention surprises because I-”

“Oh no,” you gasp suddenly clutching the arms of the chair really tight and spinning your head around to check behind you. Absolutely EVERYONE in the cast had warned you about the pranks Ellen loved to play on her show that almost made some of them pee their pants in fear. A couple of years ago when you were just another regular Marvel fan that followed all of their talkshow appearances you had watched the videos of the Chrises or Scarlett being surprised by someone in a crazy costume on repeat. It was hilarious of course, but now being in a position where it might happen to you was terrifying. You were embarrassingly easy to scare and in that moment you took back all of the times you had laughed at others being surprised on the show.

“You can relax, nothing’s back there,” Ellen reassures you while chuckles and excited squeals fill the studio. “Or maybe there is.”

Your eyes widen again and your heart drops as you turn back around.

“But, no, no there isn’t,” Ellen corrects herself. “Or is there? I don’t know.” You anxiety keeps dropping then shooting back up as she plays with you and by now your neck is hurting from straining it back so much. “I’m just kidding, I do know. And there isn’t anything,” she finally settles the tension before looking straight into one of the cameras. “But we do have a good surprise and it is not scary, I swear, coming up after the break.” You’re clutching your speeding heart in both your hands as the Ellen theme music plays cueing the commercials. The  clapping dies down quickly as a bunch of set workers being moving cameras and lighting and you follow the blonde you’ve admired for so long as she stands up and goes in for another hug.

“Hey, Y/N, you need some water?” she picks up a bottle from behind her chair and you nod. “HERE you go!” she pretends she’s about to splash it all on your shirt and you jump back making a panicked sound before you realize that she’s kept the top of it on and there’s nothing on you.

“Scarlett said to watch out for you!” you laugh and are happy to hear that your mic is off.

“Really? She did?” Ellen smiles like the two of you have known each other for years and it makes you a hundred times more comfortable. Most interviewers were so stiff and acted like robots off camera but you were finding Ellen to be extremely friendly and caring. “Me and Portia love you guys by the way.”

“Wow,” you can’t believe what you’ve just heard. “Thank you. I mean, thanks that is just crazy to hear. We love you two as well and I’ve always been a fan of your show; it’s what got me through school, haha. And, yes, Scarlett almost made me too scared to come on but I really wanted to meet you.”

“Well I’m glad that you came too. Hey, I heard that you and Scarlett were thinking about adopting a new pet?”

“Yes!” you nod your head excitedly. “We really want a dog. I grew up with two but I’m just worried about having to leave the little guy or girl at home for long periods of time or having to make them travel a lot with us.”

“Yeah I totally understand. But like for me, going home to my cats every evening and just laying on the couch with them and Portia is what keeps me sane.”

“Absolutely, same for me.”

“Woah, okay, can you just come stand over here for one second?” she pulls you to the side as a set worker instantly lifts your chair up and takes it away only to be replaced by two other crew members that have a full sized couch. That was strange. Usually you’d be told if there were going to be guests or fans that you’d have to interact with on shows but you just shrugged it off and assumed that a fan from the audience would be coming up to meet you and it was just a surprise. “Thanks.”

“And we’re back on in ten!” one of the producers yelled and you and Ellen took your seats. “Five, four, three....”

The audience was cheering once again as the music played. “Alright, we’re back with Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Ellen said looking into the camera. “And before we left we told you that there was a surprise for you.”

“Yes, and I’ve noticed that you’ve expanded the seating area so- oh wait,” you interrupted yourself to turn around to check and make sure nothing was behind you again which made the audience laugh.

“No, there’s nothing there. We actually have someone in the audience today who is a huge fan of yours that would just love to meet you.”

“Cool beans!” the audience starts shrieking and jumping up and down not knowing who it’s going to be.

“So the fan is actually completely blind but is a part time worker at Barnes & Noble and also operates rollercoasters at six flags during the summer.”

“Oh.... oh my God, I mean, that’s amazing I’d love to meet them,” you were suddenly very nervous about meeting this person.

“In a letter they wrote to us, they said ‘even though I cannot see my only dream in life is to see Y/N in person.’ From Duluth, Minnesota, please welcome Carla Shaw!”

Scanning the audience you finally catch sight of a very timid woman with frizzy red hair and dark sunglasses get up towards the top and smack dab in the middle of the aisle. Not so sure of what to do, you almost get up from your seat when you don’t see any crew members going over to help her as she shuffled her way past other audience members who are simply clapping and leaning away from her as she feels the tops of the chairs to walk towards the stairs. “I should probably help her,” you get up and jog off the stage to go assist this poor woman who’s waving her cane around feeling for where the steps are. You are shocked and almost appalled that no one else getting up to help her and you jog up the steps carefully and go to lock your elbow into hers so you can guide her down.

“Allow me,” you offer before she completely spazzes our in front of you tripping down two steps and throwing her cane in the air. “SHIT!” you scream and forget that this is daytime television. You immediately fall to your knees and go to try and help them up when you notice that they’re just sitting there laughing. That laugh. You know that laugh.

“Oh my God-“ you breath as they reach for their hair and pull off what is actually a wig and then take off the giant black glasses. “I cannot believe you!” you yell at Scarlett who’s laughing hysterically at your dumb face.

“Hey baby,” she says cheekily and you roll your eyes as the two of you get up together. The crowd is going completely bezerk and girls all around you and covering their faces with their hands, mascara dripping with tears of joy and disbelief. She pulls you in for a hug and the screams get louder which you didn’t even think was possible.

“Scarlett Johansson everybody!” Ellen is clapping from the stage as your girlfriend waves to some fans and the camera. You playfully bump your shoulder into her and she pushes you back like you’re two bumper cars as you walk down towards the stage. Once you’re up there, the two of you turn around to wave at the audience some more and you’re certain that your eardrums are permanently damaged.

“I’ll sit on this si- AHHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHH SHIT”

You both scream with horror in your eyes as you see the cushions from the couch launch into the air as a beastly looking guy dressed like a yeti explodes two feet in front of you. His growling almost gives you a heart attack and you and Scarlett instinctively clutch into each other with both of you trying to hide behind the other.

Your grip on your girlfriend is so tight and you don’t let go until the yeti guy has completely disappeared running offstage. Ellen is in a complete fit of laughter that has rendered her unable to stand. She’s laughing, struggling to take breaths when she needs to from her chair while high pitched screams continue to get louder and louder.

“WHY!?!” Scarlett looks at the blonde woman in horror and your fingers are up by your neck feeling for a pulse.

“Is that all the surprises? Please tell me there are no more surprises,” you cry for mercy.

The next part will be an interview with you and Scarlett where you discuss the upcoming movie, choose your favorite Chrises, and talk a little bit about your relationship

[charlie-minion]

Happy fucking birthday to me!

I turned 32 almost a week ago and I’m still surprised I made it. This has definitely been the hardest year I’ve had to keep myself alive. Depression has been a huge part of my life since I remember. Actively trying to find something to keep my mind busy has been a life-or-death situation for me, but I’d never felt as helpless and hopeless as I’ve done this year; I’d never felt so alone despite being surrounded by people. My life hadn’t been so plagued with losses in a very long time.

This year I lost a friend I thought I had. He had become a constant in my life for the last three years, and I cared about him deeply. I’ve had an awful luck with friends in the past, so making friends is incredibly hard for me because I always have a feeling they’ll end up hurting me. When this friend suddenly blocked me on all social media despite working and studying together and seeing each other every day, it was a punch in the face.

Not only have I lost the one person I used to share thoughts with on a daily basis, I also lost hope in humanity. He seemed like a really nice guy, and I thought he was honest and transparent. Then I realized he’d been talking about me behind my back with my boss and other people, saying things with an obvious intention to stain on my name if my boss had bought into it. Thanks to that, I’ve lost the peace I used to have at work because now I feel I have to be wary of that hypocrite and some other people.

As a result of losing that “friend”, I’ve also lost the little joy I still had. Because of my issues with depression, my job has always been the main source of motivation in my life. The fact that I don’t feel I can trust the people I spend most of my day with has sucked all the pleasure I used to experience at work. I still have some nice colleagues and students, but some of them can also be really vicious. I wish the loving people would cause a bigger impact, but for some reason the ones who usually hurt me with their words and actions are the ones that keep repeating over and over in my head. Now I experience utter disbelief when any of my co-workers or students does or says something nice. It’s become even harder for me to trust their good intentions.

A second loss I never thought would affect me the way it has was the death of one of my idols. Chester Bennington was a source of relief for me. All the anger, resentment and despair that I always tried to hide from the world could find an easy way out when I sang Linkin Park’s songs. It didn’t have to be how I felt; I could just pretend to enjoy the music even though I knew the lyrics were too close to home for me. The good thing is that people didn’t need to know; I was just another teenage girl singing to the rhythm of the best-selling rock band of the moment.

When I learned about Chester’s death, I lost an important part of me. I still can’t put a finger on what exactly I lost, but I know I did. He made me feel understood when no one gave a damn about me. I felt that if he understood what I felt but managed to keep living and helping others, then I could do the same even if I couldn’t reach as many people as he did. The moment I realized he lost the battle against his demons, I lost the little faith I still had for myself. My faith died on July 20, and since then my demons have become louder in my head. Sometimes they get so overwhelming that I just want to find a way to shut them up forever.

After losing Chester, I lost one of the biggest reasons that kept me fighting. I feel completely alone 99.99% of the time. Every day it gets harder to trust the people around me because I see them and all I’m thinking is how much they’re judging me, how uncomfortable they feel around me, how tired they are of me, how sorry they feel for me, and how better off they would be without me. For this reason, I isolate myself a lot and the only ones that keep me company are my pets. They’re the only ones that need me and love me unconditionally. Or so I thought.

I lost my long-term companion on October 9. My dog Blacky was 15 years and 9 months old. She was by my side for half my life, and now she is gone. She got sick out of the blue, and I didn’t even have time to mentally prepare for that loss. She was OK on Thursday morning and then she was dead 4 days later. She needed a surgery and I made the decision to take the risk because I didn’t want her to suffer if there was a chance for her. Saying goodbye to her knowing there was a possibility I would not see her again was the hardest thing I had to do. In the end, she died of a heart attack after the surgery and another part of me died along with her.

The worst thing is that I lost not only my dog but also my cats. I have two cats, Jerry and Misha (ages 6 and 3). They used to be very loving. Everywhere I went, they were there. Both cats and my dog were my faithful companions and I was thankful for them. However, after my dog died, my cats have totally abandoned me. I don’t know if it’s their way to grieve, but when I get home, they want to be as far away from me as they possibly can. They don’t sleep with me anymore; they don’t follow me or play with me, no matter how much I try to get things back to normal. In my mind all I can think is that they blame me for my dog’s death and that’s possibly my mind projecting my own guilt, but even if the rational part of my brain knows that’s not true, the messed up part of my brain is louder. My pets’ unconditional love came to an end just as everything else in my life.

Besides losing my pets, I lost the second reason I’ve had to hold on to life for this long. I always felt that if I killed myself, I would hurt my mom and I didn’t want to do that. When my dog got sick, I asked my mom for help and she refused. She has a car and lives three houses from my house. When I asked her to help me take my dog to the vet, she said gas was expensive and that it was raining. She didn’t care at all!  I obviously took my dog to the vet not only that day but the remaining three that were necessary. I spent a lot of money on taxi rides, but I didn’t care because my dog deserved my unconditional love –the one fucking thing I’ve never had from my own mother!

I lost the desire to be a good daughter. At a very early age I learned to repress the anger toward my mom for all the times she neglected me and for indirectly causing all the abuse I now have to deal with on my own. She’s been poison to me in many ways, but I still tried to be a good daughter, no matter how much she kept failing and failing at being the mother I needed. For her there’s always an excuse; there’s always something that’s more important than standing up for me; there’s always something more valuable than me. Her love always comes with a number of conditions and I’m fucking tired of trying to meet her requirements, of trying to be good enough for her.

In conclusion, I lost all my ability to give a flying fuck about my life. When this year started, I had no goals or dreams, but at least there was a certain monotony I was willing to follow. I had come to terms with the fact I was supposed to be in this purposeless life simply because it wasn’t my decision when to end it. I was basically resigned. Nevertheless, the little sense of mission I was fighting for has almost completely vanished at this point. I’m literally hanging by a thread while looking functional to the people around me. I’m beyond exhausted. “Exhausted” is a line so far behind me that all I can see now is a very small dot.

I haven’t lost my life yet despite all the other losses. Every day I wonder if today is the day I’ll end it. Every day I check I still have the means to put an end to this never-ending cycle. I’m still here and I have no fucking clue why that is. I’m not resigned anymore; I’m just picking up the pieces to build the courage I need. I’m not even looking for help anymore; I’ve tried therapy and medication, but maybe it was just too late. The truth is that nobody can save me but myself. I’m the only one who can fight the darkness inside my head, and I’m the only one who can decide it’s not worth the effort anyway. No matter how many people say “You’re not alone”, the reality of my life is that I AM. I AM ALONE. Strangers who might care about me are not going to change that because every time I hit rock bottom, they won’t be here to pick me up. No one’s ever been here and no one ever will. That’s what I’ve learned this year, so happy fucking birthday to me! I wish it were the last.

[chaosflight]

nightmare log 1

okay so i’m going to start logging these fucking nightmares

tw: violence mention ghost mention blood mention death mention

from what i can remember, it started off like any of the other bizarre dreams i’ve had this past week and a half, kinda hazy and kinda trying to tell a story, but mostly in a way that was all supposed to be subtext if it were a film.  it’s divided kinda into five parts, the first being the longest

the first part was the most coherent. it was almost like it was based off my favorite older film, the ghost and mrs. muir, where there was a lady who was alive and a fella who was not, except it was a trick.  they were both dead, ghosts to each other, repeating their lives over and over with these sorts of hints at each other.  the actual dream (i guess all that information was subtext) starts as she’s seeking him out in all the places she’s met him.  i guess that those things are always consistent? and their memories of each other always remain, no matter how many times they relive their already over lives.  she looks for him in her room, by the treeline, in the garden, and lastly by the fire pit.  

the first time she does this, she only sees charcoal sketchy shadows of him, and can’t interact.  the second time, she does interact with him, but something is changed, somehow.  she spoke to him, but he didn’t interact with her at all, like he was ignoring her.  She saw him from her bedroom in the fire pit, and went out to meet him since he wasn’t in the room, but he ran away from her by the trees, and in the garden, he was entertaining guests and couldn’t respond in his timeline.  so she had this small soliloquy that was supposed to be for him, about how she loves him so much, “like the wood in this pit, i want to be consumed.  but then the fire sets in, and the burns are too great” and then one more line, but she cut out.  i couldn’t hear her, because somehow she was now a charchoal ghost too, and we were at the fire pit instead of the garden, and she burned up and disappeared.  

then it flips over to him being the one ‘alive’, and he sees her from his bedroom by the fire, chases her immediately down to the garden, where the party is going, but all his guests are half ghosty and half there, so he ignores them.  She asks him to follow, i think? and then suddenly they’re at the fire pit, and she’s a charcoal ghost burning in long forgotten embers, and the guy hears her message, but again the only thing i can hear is those two lines, and then she’s cut off.  but, instead of disappearing, he steps into the fire with her, and says something like, ‘let us burn together, then’, and then they both become ghosts squared??? it’s implied that they died, again, or that perhaps their actual deaths were suicide by ghost or something.  

they turn into human outlines, holding eac h other’s hands, neither one in any way distinguishable from the other, and fly away down a street.  this is the end of part one.

the dream then takes a wild turn into some kinda commentary on goofy?  where goofy and his son are ghosts, and he’s kinda teaching his son about his history, but idk enough about it for it to be a factually realistic dream, so it very quickly veers into the third part:

we’re in our garage and we somehow had to fight for the legal ownership of the content of our garage?  like our stuff had all been there so long that the government somehow was allowed to possess it.  it’s worth noting that while the garage is implied to be the same one as the house we live in now, it starts out as actually the SIZE of the house in the dream.  there’s a lot of shit in there.  it’s also implied that i’m closer to my thirties, maybe even exactly ten years older, and it’s been a hot second since we’ve seen any of this stuff and it’s apparently really important.  

anyway, we’ve got literal construction equipment in the garage (bc it’s grown) to pull our shit down from these massive piles they’ve developed into, and as we move things we start discovering stuff, and this part goes pretty par for the course as far as growing architecture and mountains of petty trash being sorted can go.  

we’re halfway through when we discover my section.  there’s tvs and cameras.  oh my god, so many cameras.  i take so long reminiscing over them all that the rest of my family goes to lunch, i guess?  i’m alone, anyway, and the garage is somehow smaller again, but still pretty fucking huge.  There’s this one.  this one camera, that seems important, but i can’t remember how, but i want to go show mom and dad this particular one, maybe bc it’s the first? my first video camera? and as i’m walking back to show them, be all like ‘hey lookit this fucking relic lol’ i’m looking at the memory.  there’s nothing on it, which is weird bc i never delete  shit.  that’s a real life thing, i just do not delete things.  so i figured, hey, maybe it’s broken, so i open it up, turn the camera and the view finder around so i can selfie but see myself, and FUCKING SLENDERMAN IS IN MY CAMERA

i turn around, and he’s right there.  i fucking bolt.  he was putting out some FUCK OFF vibes.  i’m running further into the garage though, instead of into the house like i wanted in the first place, and that’s where it changes again?

this fourth part features a co-worker of mine, who i like to call mike wazowski, bc his first name is mike.  and it’s like a goddamn rick and morty scenario, where i’m morty and he’s rick, and we’re being brought before an alternate universe xenomorph queen that’s being held captive/protected by some unnamed government agency.  except the queen is male?  somehow thats important, except it’s literally never important again.  anyway, he’s enormous.  imagine the scale of a regular xenomorph to a standard queen, and that’s the scale of a regular queen to this AU queen.  he’s big. 

we’re in handcuffs, and i’m kind of unresponsive.  my mind is not in my bod.  i watch the whole sequence from very far away in this big white room where it’s all taking place.  the people who’ve got us captured/escorting us present the queen with another xenomorph, .  wait, no, there was a big buff angry lady first, who was yelling at us for upsetting the queen, and then pompously strode forward to apologize for this awful thing we did, and he fucking killed her and ate her.  he used one giant gross finger to impale her and then he ate her. it was horrifiying, even from my fortunate distance.  

THEN the rest of the guys present the queen with another xenomorph, which he then similarly eats, although more like a spider eats stuff.  he shot out his secondary mouth, and it clamped onto the other xeno’s back, and it shrivelled up and.  yeah.  while he’s doing that, he’s telepathically scolding us for ‘dealing with such a blight’.  and mike’s like ‘yeah, great going christina’, even though i’m fuckin catatonic.  i think he knew i could still hear him?? idk.  

the queen then continues to explain that we’ve opened some something, and that this Greatere Monster is now going to do it’s very best to fucking wreck our whole dimension, which apparently includes several universes?  i’m not sure that’s how string theory works but queeny mcmurder seemed pretty fucking sure. and then the dream switches.

this is part five.  it’s the worst, for me, personally.  

it starts with what’s obviously a recording, but i’m viewing it like I AM the camera, but i’m also IN the recording.  and me and these people are walking around a little kids playground.  everything is normal except this one installation.  it’s a big, pointy, metal mess of barely recognizable imagery.  it’s like if slendy and a xeno had a baby, and it’s skeleton was shifting through three different planes and someone took a photo and then lovingly rendered it in cast iron for all to play with.  

it was so weird.  it was so alive, even as a statue.  i walked through it, around it, we all did, and it was so eerie.  it was a thing that Should Not Exist.  it seemed like it could come alive at any moment and just.  destroy everything. 

and then suddenly i wasn’t in the recording, and i wasn’t a camera anymore, and i was. trapped.  inside it’s body.  the same skeletal, misshapen metal abomination was holding me, gently, but also not at all.  like it didn’t want to break me, but it would not let me leave.  i cried, so much.  i’d been there so long.  there was no light, only touch, and the only thing there was to touch was horror itself.  i wasn’t on earth, or in space, and space didn’t seem to matter.  neither did time, except that it just kept happening, the same insufferable moment happening forever, like a scream that never dies.  

the thing spoke to me.  it’s voice was impossible to describe.  it was grating like tin or steel, but it was also soft and smooth, whispery.  it seemed to be deafening, but it was also like a sigh.  i felt so many mouths against my face and shoulders as it spoke to me.  not all of them were human or even animalistic as anything i could name on earth.  i got impressions of what it was trying to tell me, but i didn’t know exactly what it wanted, except for me to stay there, forever in that impossible moment.  

sometimes there would be these.. animals? that would come near, when the thing slept.  it turned back into metal, and i was trapped in it’s frozen body, trying to wiggle out.  they were like rabbits, kind of hunched over and they moved haltingly.  they talked, and i could tell what they were saying.  they whispered, so jealously, ‘you’re living our dream’ over and over, ‘what you’re experiencing would be paradise to us!’ and then they would bite at my fingers and make them bleed, but the damage never lasted, i always healed from whatever they did to me, only the THING could really hurt me.  

and if it woke up when they were there, it would tear them apart, and i’d get drenched in their blood and their screams would get trapped in my head.  they were so happy to die by this awful thing that wouldn’t let me go.  

towards the end of the dream, what really felt like decades of being in that unseeing place, i was trying to hold together some hope i’d get out, and i remembered.  i remembered i love to sing, and that i always believed that singing could scare away wicked things, or at least make me feel better.  so, still bawling because i was so fucking terrified, i tried to sing.

and then i woke up.  not all the way.  but i was definitely away that i was in my bed, and so, so stiff.  like i hadn’t moved all night.  one leg under the cover, one leg out, and face down in the pillow, just like i like it.  i mentally recapped everything that happened in the dream to the best of my ability, and i feel like i’ve got an accurate summation of everything.  it doesn’t capture the feelings, though. the ghost story was wistful and sad, the goofy bit was supposed to be a continuation of that sense of.. losing out on something, the garage part was the spooky preamble to the paralyzingly terrifying fifth part, and the fourth part was... just really ominous.

the weirdest part to me is how stiff i am all over, but i somehow managed to get my leg out of my enormous comforter, and how my hair is super fucked up, even though, again, i was incredibly still all night.  i’m probably just scaring myself at this point, but it did freak me out.

so some real life things to mention: i’ve been asking for a video camera for christmas bc i want to start a video diary, and my phone is just.  unreliable.  

mike is usually a pretty snarky guy, and we closed the store together last night, so that’s probably why he made an appearance.

i stayed up super late last night recording stuff, and it was super dark and super quiet by then, so i was kind of freaking myself out before i went to bed anyway.

i did not have any wine or sleep aid last night, so my parents telling me it’s one or both of those things, HA!! i also didn’t eat anything when i came home, so it’s not that either.

i love slender man stories and the aliens franchise a lot, but i’ve never really been super scared of them before.

okay, that’s it.