Worked Up

Originally posted by goofygoobler

Originally posted by babyspencerreid

Imagine: going to see the fireworks with the team and undergoing an anxiety attack, Spencer calming you down.

Pairing: Platonic!Spencer x reader p(romantic I guess if you squint)

Warnings: Anxiety attack on your fictional part, fluff.

((Happy 4th of July to all my friends, American or not. I wrote this because tonight was a shit-show. I went to go see fireworks on the beach and some idiots didn’t light it properly and it went sideways and hit a bunch of people. Everyone was alright but it was traumatizing. People screamed, kids were crying and most people ran in my direction. There were also fireworks heading into the sea and firework wrapping everywhere. I know there is going to be so much trash on the beach. A beach where sea turtles come to lay their eggs. I hated it. Anyways, here you go!))


The sand felt warm and delightful between your toes as you ran across the beach to meet up with your friends. The sun was leaving orange, pink, purple and yellow hues as it set, sky slowly darkening.

The team was currently sitting on a few large beach blankets and towels, chatting and laughing. Henry, Kai, and Jack were all playing with some sparklers under the supervision of Joy, JJ, William and Hotch, Rossi and Hayden walking down by the waves, feet getting wet.

“Hey guys!” The rest of the team cheered your name in a friendly manner, Tara and Garcia shuffling over to give you room. “I brought refreshments!” You shrugged your cooler off of your shoulder, beers clinking as it hit the ground.

“I was waiting for this!’ Morgan grabbed one, taking a bottle opener and popping off the cap. "Alright Y/n, that’s all we needed you for, you can go now.” He teased, eyes widening when you lunged for him playfully.

“Happy Independence Day!” Penelope cheered, giving you a hug. “What’s in the other bag?” She gasped, pulling out pinwheels, headbands with red, white, and blue stars, and fake temporary tattoos.

“I brought plenty for the kids but for us too!” You cheered triumphantly. “How else should we celebrate America by getting drunk and crazy. Not that it’s different from any other day for me, am I right?” You winked.

You turned to look at Spencer, teasingly rolling your eyes at his usual attire. “I brought something for you too Spence. I think you are really gonna love it.” He looked a little shocked and you had to suppress a giggle. “Ta-da!” You pulled out a pair of shorts with the American flag on it. Morgan broke out in a chuckle, taking the shorts and inspecting them.

“It’s perfect, right? Do you want to try it on?” You gestured to the bathhouses on the beach a little ways away.

“No thank you, I’m fine. I uh…appreciate it though.” He smiled weakly. You relented, running your hands through his hair and ruffling it up. “Your loss.” You warned, opening up your own beer.

“So, we’re heading to Aaron’s house afterwards for some late night grilling and s'mores. I would offer my place but I’m sure the landlady would complain….. again. Anyways, are you in?” Penelope asked, already getting dolled up with the headbands and using a peice of ice from your cooler to cover her arms in tattoos.

You nodded and easily fell into conversation with everyone, Sky soon becoming dark. Soon everyone regrouped to sit together anxious for the fireworks to start.


“There we go!” JJ squealed to her son, moving him in her lap. Your heart immediately started pounding, and you told yourself it was just the initial shock, but as the fireworks kept going you felt like you were frozen to the ground.

Each pop made you think of a gunshot and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Each firework sounded like a gunshot and you couldn’t help but think of all the people who had died this previous year, people who died because you shot, never mind the fact that they were murdererous, kidnappers, rapists, you still took their lives.

You were shaking, sweat palpitating on your forehead. You felt like someone was choking you. Each cheer of excitement sounded like a shrieking scream. The screams kept getting louder and louder and you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n!” Spencer came over to you, whispering. “Y/n it’s okay. Breathe deeply.” Spencer recognized that you were having a panic attack, eyes laced with concern. “In and out like this, see?” He demonstrated and you tried your best to follow his example. “Do you want to move? We don’t have to stay here.” He reminded you.

With wide eyes you nodded as best as you could, and he helped you off the ground, holding you bridal style and leading you out into the parking lot the beach where the noises where a bit muffled.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of Y/n. This feeling is only temporary alright? Just breathe….breathe please…” He stayed with you the entirety of your panic attack until you calmed down enough, leading you to your car. “Do you want me to tell the team you’re not up for the barbeque?”

“Well, I don’t want to spend the holiday alone. All my stuff is back there anyway.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair. Spencer held his hand up, a weak smile on his face.

“I’ll spend the holiday with you. And, don’t-don’t worry, I’ll grab your stuff. Are you absolutely, positively sure that you’re alright if I leave? Just for a moment?” You paused, nodding, a smile slowly forming on your face, Spencer was so sweet.

You heard a few more pops, softer now that you were in the car. You hoped the kids were all safe and no one knew that you had freaked out. You were sure that they had most likely gone through something like this before but you didn’t want to make it a big deal.

You made out Spencer’s frame as he approached your car, and when he stepped in front of the headlights you couldn’t help but laugh. He had thrown the shorts you had gotten for him on over his pants, wearing one of your headbands. He plopped into the passenger seat, jumping back when he caught your stare.

“I didn’t have time to put on the tattoos.” He simply explained, his eyes grinning for him as he tried to keep a straight face. You started pulling out of the parking lot, cheeks burning from smirking so much.

It was so great to have a friend like him.

anonymous asked:

i think that ted bundy was innocent, like honestly. Although he confessed, maybe his mental disorder caused him to lie loads like idk. He just seemed so sweet and innocent and I honestly think it is rude how you just jump to these conclusions that ted was a mass murdererer, hes too hot to have murdered people. Innocence until PROVEN guilty, have you ever heard of that lmao?

Variant Cover by CLAYTON CRAIN
• Mary Jane Watson-Parker has been saving the day as Spinneret, but at the cost of some of her husband’s powers. So she’s going to try something new…
• That’s right, MARY JANE VENOM. It’s on!
32 PGS./Rated T …$3.99

Look…I was just about accepting the idea of her as a superhero.

Giving her powers from fucking VENOM?

The dude who terrorized her AND tried to murder her baby?

The thing which can KILL you if you wear it too long?

The thing which can drive you crazy and can take over your body even in your sleep?

The thing which has literally eaten brains?

The thing which can bring out your darkest impulses?

The thing which has MURDERED people and can make the wearer see into the minds of former hosts including murdererous psychopaths?

What the Hell no!

if nothing else it fucks up waaaaaay too much set up up until now and fucks up the dynamic of the book.

Few marriage fans wanted a book about Spider-Man and his Amazing Spider-Family. 

Most of us wanted a book about Peter Parker who has a family or at most Peter and his family with maybe Annie at most as a hero. 

But having Spider-Man married to VENOM?

This is a potential shark jump right here and way too weird. it really just turns the series into a weird and wacky what if experimental book rather than what people want, that is to say a book that gives us an older mature Spider-Man married to MJ as an alternative to the crap in ASM. 

I still have faith in the book though. Hopefully this is just a temporary thing or at the very least the nature of this alternate universe is such that even with the symbiote the good stuff about RYV isn’t compromised too much.

We shall wait and see. 

mandytrekkie  asked:

Not-so-selfish ask: "Dating Brett would include..."

Oh, Mandy darling, I HATE YOU WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??!!! (JK, love ya, gurl!)

Originally posted by immova

Dating Brett would include…

  • He won’t force you to start going to the gym with him, per se…but he will strongly encourage it, through spamming you with Snapchats and texts while he’s working out. And maybe he’s not above offering you sexual favours if you agree to go get swole with him…
  • If you’re not a vegetarian like he is, he’ll totally respect that, save for the occasional joke about you being a murdererous carnivore. So you better get used to being the only one who cooks or buys meat.
  • His work gets pretty stressful sometimes, wrangling the dairy boys. So he often needs you to help him relax at the end of a long day, usually through cuddles and little heart-to-hearts.
  • You get to joke about his bald spot and receeding hairline and depending on his mood, he either responds with pouts, sarcastic quips or he threatens to break you in half. Or a combination of all three.
  • Totally Gratuitious Headcanon Time! - Brett’s a goofy motherfucker and he enjoys incorporating that silliness into bed sometimes. He’s fond of taking dumb roleplay scenarios and spinning them into huge productions just to make you laugh a bunch before the sexin’ commences.
  • Him leaving his boots lying around the house and you accidentally tripping over them all the goddamn time.
  • He, uh…..really likes having you on top and getting to watch you ride him.
"The Devinat art tcc imagine"

Imagine being a child and being murdered by a selfish man you randomly met at a pub and having your corpse desecrated and sexualized and your family searching for you for 27 years and, years later, someone writes a shitty romance fanfiction of your murderer and another murdererer based off your death. I don’t think it would be a pleasant thing.

anonymous asked:

Why so many men so cute and beautiful (I am not pedophile, because I am a man and I am not gay) as a child? Adam very cute as a child and other mass murdereres were also. But when they become adults is not that they become ugly, but mostly lose beauty. That`s nor fair! When I look my child photos I remember how girls love me when I was a kid (now not anymore, lol). I feel sorry for mass murderers in this aspect.

i…don’t know how to answer that.

anonymous asked:

A lot of people have done monstrous things for smaller motives, so that totes justifies this other character committing murder/genocide! And my stanning and excusing him! uwuw! My glorious lanky murderere with blood on his peeper from all the murder! He’d totes go to the good place cuz his daddy wasn’t didn’t play Viking foolsball with him like he did with Thor, that’s a perfectly good reason for killing people unassociated with his family drama!

!! like…. did we all forget that earth did LITERALLY nothing to him??


“Game Over, Charles” - Alternate Ending 

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3


During her frequent visits with Charles at Radley, Jessica encountered the father of another patient named Bethany Young. She and Mr. Young bonded over the struggle of having a child locked away and found comfort in eachother’s company. Soon their friendly relationship blossomed into an affair. Even after Charles was released, Jessica would come to Radley to meet with her lover while he visited Bethany. From time to time, she would take Bethany out on her own and even buy her gifts in an attempt to win the child over. Bethany, however, saw through the facade and believed it was all a ploy to keep stringing her dad a long. As time went on, she began to feel as though her father was coming to visit Mrs. DiLaurentis more than he was coming to visit her, and her resentment for the woman grew. 

One day, Bethany saw Jessica walking down the hall, and in a fit of rage, followed her all the way up to the roof and pushed her off. Only it wasn’t Jessica, it was another patient, Marion Cavanaugh; Bethany’s delusions and outbursts had gotten the best of her once again. Out of loyalty to Mr. Young, Jessica used her status on the board at Radley to cover up the murder and have Marion’s death listed as a suicide so Bethany would not be subject to punishment.

Bethany saw this as an act of leverage, but her father saw it as an act of kindness. She watched him become closer than ever to Jessica. She listened as Mrs. D told Mr. Young fantastic about her two youngest children, looked on as she showed him pictures of her perfect life and perfect daughter. Bethany was jealous. She knew her dad would rather have beautiful, smart, not-crazy Alison DiLaurentis as a daughter than the drugged-up, messed-up, locked-up, murdererous Bethany Young. So one day, wearing an outfit Jessica gave her, and a bracelet she made in art therapy to match the one Alison wore in photos, Bethany escaped Radley with a mission: to get rid of Alison and take her place. 

Mrs. D received a call from the institution warning her that a patient she had a relationship with was the loose. Knowing Bethany’s tendencies and just what she was capable of, Jessica asked Alison not to go anywhere that night. Alison didn’t listen. Her mom’s worst suspicions were realized when she witnessed through a window the “fragile patient” striking Alison with a rock. She ran outside, but it was too late. Bethany was gone, and Alison was dead. Confused, panicked, and feeling somehow responsible, Mrs. D buried her own daughter in a shallow grave, and went inside to call Mr. Young and tell him what transpired.

Meanwhile,  Wilden was on his way to the DiLaurentis home. He and Alison hooked up over the summer while on Vacation, and she told him she might be pregnant. After hearing she was back in Rosewood, he knew he needed to confront her about the situation. Wilden arrived and caught a glimpse of what appeared to be Alison standing in her backyard. As he approached, his gaze landed on a shovel nearby, and survival instincts took over. In the heat of the moment, Wilden decided to eliminate the problem altogether. Grabbing the shovel, he walked up behind the girl and hit her over the head without a single word. He fled the scene immediately. Wilden never realized it wasn’t Alison he hit, but an unsuspecting Bethany Young, who had returned to complete her masterplan and take Alison’s place. Ironically, she got exactly what she hoped for. She took Alison’s place not in life, but in her grave.

I reached out my hand; England’s rivers turned the other way.
I reached out my hand; my enemies’ blood stopt in their veins.
I reached out my hand; thought and memory flew out of my enemies’ heads like a flock of starlings;

My enemies crumpled like empty sacks.
I came to them out of mists and rain;
I came to them in dreams at midnight;
I came to them in a flock of ravens that filled a northern sky at dawn;
When they thought themselves safe I came to them in a cry that broke the silence of a winter wood.

The rain made a door for me and I went through it;
The stones made a throne for me and I sat upon it;
Three kingdoms were given to me to be mine forever;
England was given to me to be mine forever.
The nameless slave wore a silver crown;
The nameless slave was a king in a strange country.

The weapons that my enemies raised against me are venerated in Hell as holy relics;
Plans that my enemies made against me are preserved as holy texts;
Blood that I shed upon ancient battlefields is scraped from the stained earth by Hell’s sacristans and placed in a vessel of silver and ivory.

I gave magic to England, a valuable inheritance
But Englishmen have despised my gift
Magic shall be written upon the sky by the rain but they shall not be able to read it;
Magic shall be written on the faces of the stony hills but their minds shall not be able to contain it;
In winter the barren trees shall be a black writing but they shall not understand it.

Two magicians shall appear in England.
The first shall fear me; the second shall long to behold me. 
The first shall be governed by thieves and murdereres; the second shall conspire at his own destruction;
The first shall bury his heart in a dark wood beneath the snow, yet still feel its ache;
The second shall see his dearest possession in his enemy’s hand…
The first shall pass his life alone, he shall be his own gaoler;
The second shall tread lonely roads, the storm above his head, seeking a dark tower upon a high hillside.

I sit upon a black throne in the shadows but they shall not see me.
The rain shall make a door for me and I shall pass through it;
The stones shall make a throne for me and I shall sit upon it.
The nameless slave shall wear a silver crown
The nameless slave shall be king in a strange country.

—  The Prophecy of John Uskglass, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke