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“HEY BUTT-HEAD, I I DREAMED I WAS AT SCHOOL LAST NIGHT. DO YOU THINK THAT COUNTS FOR ATTENDANCE?” - Beavis

There’s an entire generation walking around that have the deliriously funny Mike Judge to thank for being a tiny bit less intelligent than we could have been thanks to hours of consuming Beavis & Butt-Head in the 1990′s. It’s been a long time since the less-than-dynamic duo muttered and snickered their way into our hearts but thankfully sophomoric morons age well and many of us are ready to revisit Cornholio & Co. Ok, but here’s the bad news. There isn’t a single home video release out there, VHS, DVD or otherwise that contains all the original episodes uncut, AND has the music videos. Largely due to the licensing rights being insurmountably expensive now (and have been for ages) and societal shifts in what makes people nuts, the only way to really see episodes completely as they were is through fan made off-the-air tapes which usually give up quality for content. These early home video releases therefore make a decent alternative, and while they aren’t quite the same experience they are inexpensive and durable, and hey, you can’t have it all. SO, what’s it gonna take to convince your kids you are even lamer then they thought you were? Only $9.99 at our Noblstown Rd. location buys you 9 tapes plus a copy of “Beavis & Butt-Head Do America” just for good measure. We’ll leave it to you to defend your politically incorrect nostalgia to your family, but hey, you’re still ok by us. It’ll be Friday again eventually thrifters, until then, HANG IN THERE!

Creepypasta #713: My Southern Grandma’s Advice

When the air was still out amongst the pine trees, and even without wind, things seemed to shuffle and rustle through the brush, we children would start to talk of lightless eyes, cold skin, and the unnatural gait of the long deceased come back for Sunday supper. My grandma always had words of hard-earned experience, though, to soothe our fears.

“Don’t be afraid when the dead come a-calling, for people are mostly good, and the dead are just people a little farther down the road. It’s when the things that were never alive in the first place show up that you start worrying.”

Credits to: VitruvianMonkey

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Could you do a Spencer Reid story where he comes home to his wife being really sweet to him (cooking him his favorite meal, extra kisses, making sure he doesn’t help with the laundry or dishes, getting him extra blankets, taking his coat and shoes off etc.) and when she sits down next to him on the couch and snuggles next to him he asks he whats going on. She tells him that she has an opportunity to go on a month trip seeing Asia and she wanted to ask him if she could go or if he could come with her?

I can do this!  @mcuaesthetics, thank you for being so patient with me.  Here is your cute little one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!


“Y/N!?”

As Spencer drops his bag on the floor, shrugging out of his coat as he hangs it up, he flicks on the foyer light as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Sweetheart, you here?” he calls out.

Sniffing the air as he rounds the corner, he sees you in your red and pink apron, your hands quickly at work as he sees the island counter, two chairs pulled up, complete with his favorite meal and two glowing candles.

“Welcome home!” you yelp, turning around with two large glasses of nice wine as you smile broadly, sitting them down on the counter as you rush to him, wrapping your arms around him and falling into his lips.

“Mmmmm,” he hums as your tongue swipes out along his lip, drawing it into your mouth as you let it go with a pop.

“What did I do to deserve that?” he asks.

“Sit,” you say, pulling out a chair for him as he chuckles to himself.

“Oh god, I’m a sucker for your lasagna,” he groans, spooning a helping onto his plate as he takes a long drag from his wine glass.

“Ooooooh, gooooood,” he groans.

“Long case?” you ask, giggling at him as you set the timer for the dessert in the oven.

You made sure to make his favorite.

“I just missed you,” he says as he shovels his first bite into his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed as he chews slowly and deliberately.

“Y/N…” he growls.

“Be careful,” you warn as you take a bite yourself, “I’m about to get jealous of that food.”

Smiling at him as the two of you eat in relative silence, you grab his emptying wine glass as you lean over and kiss his forehead, trailing them down to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

“Want some more?” you murmur.

Feeling him nod, you place one more kiss on the back of his neck, nipping lightly at his skin as he moans, your body swishing lightly as you make a display of pouring him his second glass of wine.

Setting it in front of him as you squeeze your breasts together, his eyes wandering downward towards your bouncing cleavage as you place yet another kiss at his temple, he sighs heavily as you walk around and sit back in your chair, his napkin coming up in his hand from his lap and wiping his mouth.

“Alright, I know when I’m being had,” he says as he flickers his eyes to you.

“Whatever do you mean…Doctor?” you ask, your sultry voice coming out as you flutter your eyelids.

“I know when I’m being buttered up…buttercup,” he says, popping his “p”’s.

“Hit me,” he says, watching you take one last sip of your wine before sitting your glass down.

“So…you know that blog that Garcia told you to suggest to me that I start?” you ask.

“Yeeeeees,” he draws out, a grin playing on his lips.

“You remember that two week trip across the country we took a few months ago when Hotch forced you to take some time off?”

“Yuuuuuup,” he pops.

“Well, when we were traveling, I sort of…took notes, you know?  And did a series on the blog recanting the things we did, where we ate, how it was, included some pictures…you know.  Things like that,” you preclude.

“Sounds like a fantastic read,” he praises.

“Well…I’ve been contacted,” you state.

“By who?” Spencer asks, his eyebrow cocking into the air as his eyes begin to slowly turn from curiosity to worry.

“By a magazine…” you trail off.

“What magazine?” he asks.

“A travel magazine…” you answer hesitantly.

Feeling the silence permeate the room, you take a deep breath and start to talk quickly, fearing you would lose him before he heard the entire story.

“We’ve been conversing back and forth for a few days and they want me to do a month-long trip to Asia and write a series that they would sponsor about the places to see and the cuisine from local shops and feature popular Asian recipes and shop at the markets and document what a trip to Asia is like on a particular budget showing that you can travel anywhere in the world without having to spend a fortune.”

Breathing deeply as you watch Spencer’s face, your eyes dancing across his reactions as you try to process what’s turning behind the wheels of his mind, you find yourself nervously wrapping your fingers in your apron as your leg begins to jiggle up and down.

“A month?” he asks.

Nodding slowly as you watch him purse his lips, he sighs as he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“A month alone in Asia…?” he trails off.

You knew this was a stupid idea.

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t of even entertained the thought.  I’ll open up my laptop and send them a message letting them know I can’t do it,” you ramble, getting up from your seat as you brush past Spencer.

Feeling his hand on your arm, you swallow deep, trying to suppress your tears of disappointment as you hear a click, followed by Spencer’s voice.

“Hey, Hotch, it’s Reid.”

Slowly turning your head as a tear travels down your cheek, you listen to Spencer explain the situation, talking through things with his boss and having Garcia run a few background checks on the magazine that was contacting you.

“Well, Garcia says everything checks out,” Hotch tells Spencer on the phone.

Feeling him loosen his grip, he furrows his brow as he stands to his feet, his hand gently caressing your face as his thumb gently wipes the tear trail from your skin.

“Alright, I’ll let her know,” he says, clicking his phone shut as he places it back in his pocket.

Watching as Spencer’s eyes connect once again with yours, you feel your lip trembling as Spencer smiles lightly.

“So, here’s the plan: email the magazine and get specific dates, and I can give those dates to Hotch and he can get me some vacation time,” he states.

“Really?” you breathe, your eyes widening as you search his.

“Yes, and if something happens and they need me for a case, Garcia let me know who to contact so that you’ll be able to check in regularly with me so that I know you’re alright,” he finishes.

“Really!?” you squeal, a broad smile spanning across your face.

“Really,” he says, bending down and kissing the top of your head as he takes your hands within his.

“I just want you safe,” he whispers into your hair.

“I know,” you whisper back, bringing your hands up and putting them on his chest as he slowly runs his down your torso, stopping at your waist.

Kissing his chest lightly, your fingers coming up to undo the first couple of top buttons on his work-shirt, you feel him shiver as you press a warm kiss to his bare skin.

“My favorite dinner, my favorite wine…”

Feeling him cup your face as he tilts your gaze to his, he brings his lips down and interlocks with yours in a warm, wet kiss.

“…my favorite girl…” he murmurs against your lips.

“What could be better?” he breathes, his chest heaving lightly.

“What about your favorite extracurricular activity?” you say lowly, tracing the tips of your fingers along the outline of his puckered nipples under his shirt.

“You mean you learned how to play chess?” he chuckles deeply.

“No, you jerk,” you breathlessly giggle, slapping his chest playfully as he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and sitting you on the edge of the island counter.

And as his hands begin to meander to your breasts, his palms cupping around them as he begins to knead them softly, you lean your head back as you moan, exposing your neck just as his lips begin to approach your bare skin.

Ding!!

Jerking your head up as your lips pucker into a surprised “O”, you wiggle out from underneath Spencer as he groans, his head hanging in mock defeat as you bound over to the oven and take out the dessert souffles you were baking.

“Chocolate souffle!” you yelp, holding them up for Spencer to see as he snickers and shakes his head, a wide, glamorous smile spreading across his cheeks.

“My favorite,” he giggles.