#wip: cm

[mblue-art]

ptide

[spiderziege]

no art atm because half my day is spend on uni work and the other half on my new obsession that is mosaic crochet

[wlwsakura]

wlw week: day 1 kyalin

i dont have a lot of time to work on these so i’ll be posting them uncolored/sketches 🫰🏻

[lukiechino]

Cardinal Broach

Spencer Reid x Reader

An unfinished wip I might continue if I get the inspiration back. Kinda based on the S13 E19, Ex Parte.

“Which color tells my mom I’m super-uber excited and not dreading having lunch with her?” I asked Spencer, showing him two outfits; one was a floral shirt paired with dark green pants and the other was a yellow and orange stripped pants with a white blouse. “Or should I go with my formal suit that I got for my friend’s wedding?”

Spencer locked up from his book on Edgar Allen Poe to examine the outfits with squinted eyes. “Well, if you want to appear excited, it’d be better to wear saturated, bright colors, since the brain’s pituitary and pineal glands are stimulated by light and that regulates more serotonin,” he said, knocking out the floral outfit. “But yellow can cause anxiety and shorts the temper of those looking at it.” So the other outfit was a no-go too.

“So the wedding suit?” I asked, tossing the outfits on a chair while I sat sown beside him with a sigh. “Getting ready to have lunch with my mom shouldn’t be this hard.”

“The wedding suit might make it appear you’re not being open or comfortable with your mom,” Spencer said. I groaned, before grabbing his arm and tugging him to the bedroom.

“C’mon, help me pick an outfit, Mr. Profiler.” Spencer put his book aside with a chuckle and let me pull him to my closet—stuffed full of bright patterned shirts and dresses.

“To start; what color should I wear?” I asked, sitting him down on the edge of the bed, in front of the closet.

“Orange or a bright teal would be good since Orange is the middle ground between yellow—which is a cheerful color—and red—which is an attentive color,” Spencer said. I grabbed a sleek button-up with orange flowers, a loose pastel orange top, a striped orange shirt, then a striking orange blazer.

“But it shouldn’t be overly formal or else you might be perceived as arrogant or dispassionate.” I threw out the floral shirt. “But it shouldn’t be too casual or she might think you didn’t put any thought into the outfit.” Then I threw out the pastel top.

“And,” I said before he could say anything else. “The resteurant we’re going is super duper fancy, and fancy places always have the air conditioning cranked to the max.” I said, tossing the thin striped shirt—I wasn’t about to bother finding the perfect coat for the shirt.

I hung the blazer on my doorknob, turning to my dresser. “Now I just gotta find a shirt and pants—do you think a white button-up and some brown pants will be okay?” I didn’t wait for Spencer’s response as I dug through my drawers.

“I think your mom will just be satisfied with you showing up,” Spencer said, taking the white shirt from me and pulling it over the ironing board.

“Thank you,” I said as pulled my legs through the tight brown pants on the edge of the bed. Spencer hummed as he ironed the shirt—leaving it as smooth as if it just came from the dry cleaners. “What jewelry should I go with?” I asked as I buttoned up my shirt.

Spencer, who sat on the edge with his book, pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Didn’t your mom give you a gold cardinal brooch?”

“That’s perfect!” I gasped, hurrying to one of my jewelry boxes stuffed into my nightstand. “Then I can wear my gold hanging earrings…” I hurriedly clipped on all my jewelry and grabbed my purse.

“Love you,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to Spencer’s cheek. “And thank you so much.”

“Be careful,” Spencer said, a small smile on his face as I left the room. I looked back at him smile. Even though he never said it, I liked to assume “be careful” was just his way of saying “I love you”.

“Stay safe at work, and call me if you got an away case, please,” I said, not wanting a repeat last week, where I came back to an empty home only to find out Spencer was all the way in California.

“I will,” he assured, sparing me one last smile before I left the apartment.

The resturant, as I predicted, felt as cold as a Alaskan winter night. I pulled my blazer closer to me as I wove through cloth table scattered about the dimly lit dining room until I found my mom sitting at a booth against the wall.

She was squinting at the drinks menu when she saw me and gasped. Mom stood up and hurriedly brought me into a bone crushing hug. “I missed you so so much, sweetie,” my mom whispered in my ear while her arms wrapped around me tightly. “Oh how have you been?”

“Good,” I said, awkwardly scooting into the booth. “Um, how’re you? And dad? And…” I wanted to avoid bringing up the topic of my brother so soon. “…everyone else?”

“Me and your dad are doing great. He’s still thriving in retirement, even picked up growing his own tomatoes,” Mom said. I scrunched up my face at the mention of the disgusting fruit. “Oh trust me, I know,” she chuckled.

A waiter strode over, smiling politely at me and Mom. “Hello, my name is Issac. Can I get you two lovely ladies started off with something to drink?” He asked, his attention immediately turning to me. My mom threw me a look that I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at.

“I’ll have water with lemon,” my mom said.

“Diet Dr. Pepper for me.” The waiter nodded curtly as he scribbled down our orders, gracefully walking off. My mom grinned at me and I sighed. “What?” I whispered.

“He’s cute,” my mom said, wiggling her eye brows. I rolled my eyes, leaning back. In her defense, she didn’t know I was dating anyone. But still, her desperation for me to find someone to get married to would always be uncomfortable.

“He is,” I said, trying to change the subject quickly. “What are you planning on getting?” I looked over the menu stuffed full of expensive Italian dishes, going down a list of pastas.

“Oh I don’t know, I might just go the basic route of spaghetti and meatballs,” Mom hummed. “What about you?”

“I might get this tortellini plate,” I said. “But switch the cheese ones with mushroom ones.” Mom pursed her lips, squinting at the menu.

“Now I don’t know what to get…it all sounds so good…”

I smiled, before Issac came over and slid our drinks in front of us alongside a small basket of lightly salted breadsticks. I took a deep breath, savoring the warmth and the fresh salty smell of the bread.

“You two ready to order?” Issac asked, pulling his miniature notepad out his apron. I looked at my mom, who just gestured for me to go first while she continued to look over the menu.

“Well, I’ll have the Tortellini plate,” I said, smiling up at Issac. “But can you swap out the cheese Tortellini with the mushroom ones?”

“Of course,” he answered, turning to my mom. “And you, ma’am?” My mom gave the menu one last look over before nodding.

“I’ll have the…Bombolotti all’Amatriciana,” my mom said slowly, trying her best to pronounce the dish.

“Two wonderful choices,” Issac said as he took up the menus. “Especially the Tortellini. The mushroom one is my favorite,” he chuckled, slipping some curly blond hair behind his ear.

As Issac walked off, my mom swatted my arm with a grin. “He’s into you.”

“Or he’s just being polite,” I said, taking a drink of my soda. “And besides, he’s not my type.”

“Oh and what would that type be?” My mom asked, leaning forward on her elbow.

I sighed. “I’m just not gonna date right now.”

“Why?” My mom asked, pursing her lips as she sipped on her water. “I was already married and had a kid at your age.”

“Mom, that was you, I’m not ready for that type of…stuff. I may not ever be ready.”

“Oh please, I need a grandkid,” my mom sighed. I pursed my lips and looked to the side, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Why don’t you pressure Jacob into having a kid this much?” I muttered, leaning back against the cushioned seat.

“This isn’t about Jacob, it’s about you,” Mom said, making me scoff. “Way to avoid the question,” I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth shut. “And at least he’s in a relationship—“

“I’m in a relationship,” I finally said.

“What—since when?” My mom asked.

I sighed. “Almost a year.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to. Can’t you accept the fact not everything in my life is your business?” I questioned, leaning onto my elbows as I stared at her.

“I’m your mother—you should at least tell me when you’re dating someone,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you want to?” She was talking like I was crazy and that only made me angrier.

Thankfully, Issac came by with two large plates in hand. He glanced between us and could tell we were in the middle of a quiet argument, so he didn’t linger, and just slid the food in front of us.

As soon as he walked away I leaned over my plate and whispered, “because I didn’t want you to pressure him like you do to me.”

“Don’t be so sensitive,” my mom said, unwrapping the napkin around her utensils. She plunged her fork into the pasta and ate her food as she glared at her plate. “I want to meet him,” she finally said after a moment of silence.

“When he wants to meet you, he will.” I just focused on my food, savoring the mushroom-stuffed pasta. It was better than focusing on my fuming mother, who gripped her fork until her knuckles turned white.

“And here I thought you could at least give me a peaceful lunch—guess I was wrong,” Mom huffed.

“I’m tryin—“

I couldn’t finished before screaming erupted from all around of us—followed by the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

[lovelooksgudonu]

old asami doodle

[weirdlybeans]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HOTCH!!!!

[aysrin]

a short rest [hollow knight x valorant]

[ssahotchnerr]

you know something no one ever talks about is the fact that jessica may have kids of her own??

in 5x10 there’s that mention jack’s with his cousins — they can’t be sean’s — aaron’s only sibling. it was never mentioned haley had any other siblings rather than jessica, so any cousins would most likely be her children. unless it’s like his second or third cousins or whatnot.

but regardless i love the fact that this means whenever jack is with her, more often than not, he’s also with his cousins 🥹

[dilf-in-peril]

I was almost done with this guy over a year ago but I didn't figure out how to make the chain marks look good so I gave up on it. Might as well share this now. It's a linocut but this print is overwatered. I never managed to replicate this effect again.

[korij]

Ourmuseourmuseourmuseourmuseourmuse

[void-botanist]

so I got a secondhand display tablet as a graduation gift and now I'm unstoppable

unlike Avis who is doing an extremely poor job of making sailing together sound like FUN!

Soravis taglist: @vacantgodling @kk7-rbs

[themindcriminals]

I’m having no luck trying to colour this so that will be a problem for another day, but the sketch is cute

[sydsaint]

Haven't done a WIP update in a while. So let's do a quick update!

Bron Breakker x GM!Assistant!Reader pt. 2

CM Punk x Wrestler!Reader @ Clash At the Castle

Tama Tonga x Bloodline!Manager!Reader

Willow Nightingale x Fem!Reader (pride collection)

[comediakaidanovsky]

To me it wasn't business, it was life, and I know it was life to Phil too.

[lukiechino]

A Dream Within A Dream

| Spencer Reid x Reader |

“O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save,

One from the pitiless wave?”

— “A Dream Within A Dream”, Edgar Allen Poe

Y/n laid awake in bed, staring at the slip of paper in her hand. She tried to let her roommate’s earth-shaking snoring lure her into a merciful sleep, but with the paper and the thought of the delightful stranger she had met that night fresh in her mind, it was impossible.

Her mind overflowed with thoughts of the date she asked him on and what she would wear. But even more so, the thought that she held the coupon that he had quickly scribbled his number onto in her hand filled her mind with thoughts of late night talks and good morning calls that she always dreamt of having.

Y/n looked at the cardigan that was draped over the chair in front of her desk, remembering the moment he gave it too her. They were standing at the door of his apartment building, and Y/n awkwardly held the coupon he gave to her. She a short, sleeveless, sequence dress that her friend lent her had left her wrapping her arms around her for warmth. She awkwardly waved at him, but he hesitated at the entrance of the building. He quickly tugged off his cardigan and awkwardly slipped it over Y/n’s shoulder.

Neither of them knew what to say or do next, but Y/n managed to ask him out to coffee. Then, just before he entered his building, Y/n remembered neither of them had introduced themselves, even though they talked at the bar for what felt like an hour.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” Y/n whispered, staring at the paper. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand, turning it on. She quickly made the number into a new contact and stuffed the coupon into her nightstand’s drawer.

In a decision fueled by the confidence from lack of sleep, Y/n clicked call. She shot up as her phone rang loudly, and she hurried to turn it down.

Y/n hurried out of her and her roommates shared room, and into the living room. She placed the phone against her ear, listening as her phone rang. There was the click of the other end picking up, and Y/n broke out into a smile as she heard Spencer’s hesitant voice.

“Y/n?” He said. Then she realized that she just called this guy she barely knew at midnight, for no reason.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I called,” she rambled out quickly, pacing the length of her dining room table. “I…sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Y/n said, prepared to hang up.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he said, making Y/n’s finger pause on the hang-up button. She sat on the couch staring up at the ceiling as she held the phone to her ear. “Remember what we were talking about at the bar?” He asked. Of course she remembered, how could she forget?

The night turned sour for Y/n after her group of friends ditched her at a bar, with plans to go to a party nearby. But as she settled in at the bar, she found the guy next to her was reading a compilation of Edgar Allen Poe writings. Y/n excitedly struck up a conversation, which continued until a group of rowdy college kids infiltrated the bar.

“I finished reading Annabelle Lee,” he said.

“Ooo, how was it?” Y/n asked. It was one of her favorites—and it was actually the first poem of Poe’s she ever read.

“Still like the Raven more,” he said with a chuckle, and Y/n groaned dramatically.

“C’mon, the longing, the romance, the despair…” Y/n sighed. “Y’know what, the angels did not send a cold gust of wind to chill and kill Annabelle Lee for you to compare them to a talking Raven,” she said, getting Spencer to chuckle on the other end. “How about A Dream within a Dream, read that one yet?”

“I did, and it might actually be my favorite.”

“Phew, I don’t think I could handle any more disrespect to far superior stories,” Y/n said with a grin. Y/n closed her eyes to take in a breath. “The ending, it’s too beautifully written. The despair in every word reminds me of the empty feeling I get when I finish some eye-opening movie.” The doorbell rang as she finished talking. Y/n stared at the door upside down, praying it wasn’t family. But just in case she ended the call with, “Let me call you right back.”

The next morning, Gabby, Y/n’s roommate, woke up to an empty house. She looked around for Y/n, but found no signs she had been there at all since the night before. Nothing, except, for a crumbled up coupon with a phone number, and thin red cardigan that was thrown over her chair.

[seasonal-depression-of-punk]

WIP: ofc I need to make a punk hyper realistic portrait if I made Drew one