#yes this is a reference to that lamb painting

[turquoisespace35]

King holding Francois

[lotussart]

@i-eat-deodorant things have escalated quickly

[cr4yolaas]

blue spring — monkey tie at the exhibit

previous: teach me! | masterlist | next: something sweet

kageyama doesn't expect his friends to be so excited about this. quite frankly, he suspects they're more excited to go out for dinner afterward. nonetheless, anticipation nestles itself within the pits of his stomach.

the events of this morning are still fresh in his mind -- the grogginess lingering in her voice as she spoke to him, the small yelp she released when she fell, the smoothness of her skin when he rushed to inspect her. he's embarrassed, to say the least. he doesn't like being impulsive. but being concerned for her felt natural, overwhelmingly so. it bothered him.

kuroo parks the car in the center of the lot, against kenma's complaints. they all exit out in unison, and at the very front of the building, he sees her roommates huddled together. but not her.

he watches as his friends rush out to greet said roommates, their lives evidently interconnected in some way. slowly, he follows them inside, the dim lighting enveloping them whole. the walls are covered in art, some more intricate than others. and at the very end of the hall, he sees her, standing before what he assumes to be her own artwork.

everyone else is too enamored in their conversations with one another to notice kageyama slipping away to the back. she sees him before he can say something.

"oh, it's you. i didn't know you'd come, too."

"i was forced to, kind of." she laughs quietly at his remark, and he feels his chest bubble up with warmth. at the noise, all the morning memories dissipate. "is this yours?" he asks, pointing to the one she stands next to. it's a delicate painting, the colors soft and blended gently. a two-headed lamb sits in the center. above it is an array of stars.

"yes," she admits. she looks at him, then to the floor. she can't stop biting the inside of her cheek. "i finished it last week. i'm quite proud out it."

"you should be," he blurts out, the statement causing her to lift her head up to face him. "it's uh, really pretty."

the slight upturn of her lips is a sight kageyama's mind welcomes instantly. "thank you."

he doesn't know what to say after that. he doesn't know where to put his hands, how to stand on his own two feet, where to look. he's locked in stasis, and as if sensing that much, she starts to guide him towards her other works. she doesn't speak much, thankfully, only offering him a few tidbits of information about each piece.

he can't stop looking at her.

her hair is done neatly, with a small bow to compliment it. the dress she bears is simple, yet it draws his attention the most. it's different from who he saw yesterday. he has no complaints.

bokuto calls his name from afar, the echo of his voice shaking kageyama loose from his headspace. the rest of the group calls her, as well, and their footsteps fall into tandem as they walk down the hall.

talks of dinner and drinks float around his head as they gradually spill out of the front doors. kageyama admits to himself that he wanted to see more of her work, but he can't bring himself to voice his desires when everyone else is already heading into their cars. it's louder on the way to the restaurant, and he thinks back to the two-headed lamb to tune out the noise.

he's glad he came tonight.

𝜗𝜚 yn is heavily in denial. she has a bad history of getting attached and then pushing people away bc she hatesss being super attached to people. hence why she's very socially inept at times

𝜗𝜚 i hope u guys got the two-headed lamb reference <3

𝜗𝜚 the whole group was huddled like little penguins while they watched yn and kags walk around the exhibit

𝜗𝜚 speaking of which -- yn isnt very confident in her work but she's a pretty prominent figure on campus. which is why she was kinda hesitant to talk to kags abt her paintings

𝜗𝜚 tsukishima is the only one in his group with a car; kuroo and kenma have their own cars but the group loves kuroo's car bc its so spacious despite being an old hand-me-down

taglist: @mfcherry @eggyrocks

[angelcent]

𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃-𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐀𝐌

cw. implied age gap (nothing specific, sukuna is just older and divorced), food, established relationship, alcohol

thinking about big bad older boyfriend sukuna who shows affection with cooking of all things. first, it takes a few months of dating before he even allows you into his personal space; and when he does, your eyes widen at the sheer size of his pristine and expansive kitchen. high ceilings, marble counters, state of the art appliances, an array of culinary knives. like the rest of his penthouse, it's a tasteful mix of traditional and modern design.

your boyfriend is a wealthy and busy man, you had expected him to have a team of chefs who’d be preparing your dinner tonight. instead you see sukuna rolling up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms and the twin bands inked around his wrists. the ones in his left hand are partially covered by the watch you recently bought him.

sukuna is deft with the knives, smoothly chopping up vegetables and fresh herbs with ease; then he begins to lightly season the ribeye steak, carefully rubbing the spices into the meat. you shouldn’t find it so attractive, but your eyes are transfixed on his big hands; on the tattoos across his knuckles. only someone like him can make preparing dinner look so sensual. maybe it's the dim lighting, painting the room with intimacy.

you don't notice how long you've been staring until vermilion eyes meet yours, and he smirks arrogantly. “make yourself useful, dove. grab a bottle from the that closet over there. any red.”

the fact that sukuna has an entire small closet filled with wine bottles doesn't surprise you, but it's still impressive. you choose a full-bodied wine, knowing that he has a penchant for the viscous taste.

when you return, the kitchen smells like melted butter and roasted herbs as he sears the steak. "leather for you, right?" he chuckles, referring to how you like your meat cooked.

you snort, setting the bottle down on the dinner table. "sorry i don't like my steak mooing at me like you do." you notice that the table has already been set, and the attention to detail has uraume written all over it. "but yes, medium-well for me, please. it smells so good!"

"normally i wouldn't give a shit how a guest likes their meat cooked," sukuna murmurs, preparing your dishes to perfection. "but you're the exception, little lamb. for you, i'll bend."

butterflies flitter around inside your belly because you understand the weight of sukuna's words; someone like him would never bother saying something he doesn't mean. he's yours as much as you are his. he's referred to you as his spring, a new beginning after the bitter cold of the winter that was his marriage.

my morning light, is what he murmured into your skin when you first confessed your love to him.

the dinner he's prepared for you tops the countless five star restaurants that he's taken you to, but maybe you're just being biased. you realize that you're not though, once you sit sown and bring your fork to your lips. the food is delicious, carefully cooked to perfection and made with hands that hold your heart.

sukuna looks divine, almost regal as he drinks the blood red wine. he swirls it carefully before taking sips every now and then. he doesn't ask what you think of the food or if you like it—he knows. still, you feel the need to tell him, to gush at how talented he is and how much flavor is in every bite. he laughs in amusement, so you think he doesn't mind.

the wine is buzzing in your veins by the time you two are finished, and your limbs are loose as you get up to settle on his lap. his thick arms wrap around you as you litter kisses along the edge of his jaw. you continue up, kissing the lines of his face and you run your fingers through his peach and white hair. slowly, his hands settle lower on your hips, giving your ass a rough squeeze.

sukuna's mouth almost salivates at the thought of dessert, of the nectar between your thighs.

[cathedral-of-sinners]

Whispered Promises

Kinktober Day 1 - Dirty Talk + Yae Miko

Genre: Smut (MDNI)

CW: gn!reader but is referred to as a shrine maiden once in the form of a tease but still no actual pronouns or genitalia are mentioned, sub!reader, illusion to either lingerie or a sex toy, mentions of masturbation, public dirty talk, I’m literally shit at dirty talk so this is not my best 😭✌️also not proofread to the best of my abilities and very much lacking I’m sorry

Offering to help Yae around the shrine was beginning to appear more like a blessing under many, many layers of curses.

“You were staring little one, practically undressing me with your eyes,” the sly kitsune's breath tickled your skin as she whispered her teases to you, delicate fingers fleetingly dancing along your back. She sighs then, as if disappointed, “really, are you that needy? In the middle of the day no less.”

Yes, you think and while yes it's true you'd been casting... respectful glances at the Guuji's well hugged tits and displayed thighs, you thought you'd been at least a little discreet. Shame on you, you suppose. You should've known better that with her eye for details and awareness of her surroundings you’d be caught.

And yet, despite the lion hovering over her lamb, you decide to play dumb. If not to save some dignity then to at least keep the attention away from your easily misleading position. "I've haven’t the slightest idea what you're talking about Miko.”

Yae giggled - and what a marvelous sound it was, a sound almost powerful enough for you to fold - a mischievous smile painting her face, one you couldn’t see but definitely heard. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed that I caught you?” Her arm moved to slither around your waist, pulling you further flush against her chest, “you and I both know you don’t mind this one bit.”

A slight spike of panic courses through you as the kitsune’s hand begins to wander the expanse of your stomach, applying pressure here and there, causing a small noise of pleasure to bubble up, something you’re barely able to conceal. Here? Now!?

“Besides,” she continued, sensing your unspoken questions, “you were so bold in displaying such public lust, it’s only right for me to share some of my own thoughts about you as well.”

“Like,” she begins, a kiss being placed to your neck, “how well you look laying on my bed, spread for my own viewing pleasure. Oh I love how you squirm under my gaze.”

Leaning a little bit more weight onto your back, you’re pleasantly aware of her boobs pressing against you. “Or how you touch yourself when I tell you to, no questions asked.” Miko hums, as if contemplating a thought. You know she’s formed something in her mind when her eyes light up, “will you do that for me tonight if I told you to? I’m sure you would if I promised to reward good little shrine maidens like yourself.”

A gasp catches in your throat - shrine maiden? The nickname isn’t unwelcome and you guess it’s not too off from how your acting now, tackling various duties around Narukami Shrine. You can’t help but gaze at your forgotten task in front of you, hands flipping between hovering over it and gripping the edge of the table.

“Y-yes, I do whatever you say Miko,” you find yourself admitting, fighting to keep your voice low and steady, “I’m just like that, I follow your command and you reward me as you see fit.”

“Anything? What a dangerous promise,” her one hand lifts from your side and ascends until it looks over your chest. “Does that mean you’re wearing my little gift like I asked? The one that makes you oh so irresistible?”

The mere mention of it has your sex throbbing, “yes…”

Smiling at you, Yae finally places her hand to your chest, palm right over your hard nipple. Slowly she start to rub your hand along the fabric, brushing past the bud each time. “Perfect. I can’t wait to see you with it later tonight. Oh how I can’t wait to do to you all that I have planned. To rid you of these pesky clothes and eat you up all for myself.”

She presses a kiss to your cheek and as fast as it formed, the little space the two of you created shattered when her warmth receded suddenly. You couldn’t help the little sound of disappointment, turning to watch as she saunters off, presumably off to do work. You really can’t wait for the day to be over.

Tag list: @rain-soaked-sun || @the-purity-pen || @stygianoir || @the-massive-simp || @londonstylesxx

[kxngkasper]

INTRO POST

————————————

Some random ghost tells you about themselves (it’s me guys i’m the haunting spirit)

GREETINGS TUMBLR !!!!! here you will find my bips and bobs of what I do and how i’m working this whole blog thing

Please note that i’m new to this whole blog thing and didn’t really get into tumblr until a bit into this year so i’m still trying to learn how to do things

About me:

I’m kasper, Mostly known as Kas, I go by He/It/She pronouns and am aroace. I’m an artist and animator with dreams of becoming a storyboard artist. My focus is mainly on my health and school so if I cease to exist for a couple weeks that is probably why but other than that i’m trying to be as active as I can since I love sharing my art with people. I’m Neurodivergent, tone indicators are appreciated but not always necessary. My interests are minecraft, Mumbo Jumbo, TØP, Sherlock and Co, Cult of the lamb, Sky cotl, Pokemon, Music as a whole, animation, and OCs :]

My time zone is EST! I’m a first generation Mexican-American and the youngest of 2 other siblings. Yes, Hablo Español pero no soy tan bueno para escribir lo (I am bilingual)

uhhh i’m a furry boo be afraid rahh what else do i put here uh im 5’8 (1.73 meters) my birthday is january 7th uhhh UHHH OH SPEAKING OF BIRTHDAYS AND AGE

I’m a MINOR please refrain from commenting or saying suggestive things to me or about my content it makes me uncomfortable

I’m in the age range of 15-17 take that as you will.

My content:

I stick to posting full pieces and sketchbook stuff on here usually gonna do with my special interests but if you wanna see just vibe w me and see WIPS, reblogs, yaps and such then you can check out my side blog

@princepasker

don’t know why that won’t tag

Where can you find me besides tumblr? Bam I made a linktree because you can find me in too many places https://linktr.ee/kxngkasper

PROGRAMS I USE: Procreate, Medibang paint, Iartbook, Toonsquid, Capcut, Alight Motion, occasionally flipaclip (limited vrs)

TOS (TERMS OF SERVICE):

Please do NOT repost my work, I kindly ask that you don’t use my fandom work in Edits nor reupload them on any other platform. I run my own pinterest, I do not want to see anyone stealing what’s mine for no point when it’s already uploaded.

Using my art as reference is perfectly fine as long as I receive credit. If you wish to trace my work for learning purposes it’s fine but please keep any studies private, thank you.

Ask box:

My asks are mostly always open! You can leave doodle requests in there but I won’t guarantee I go through with it. Questions are also always welcome, I love to see em don’t be discouraged if I don’t get to it right away!

Mutuals feel free to goof off in my ask box

Random stuff:

spam liking is ok !! idm

Alright cool uh that should be it? If I remember anything else i’ll come back and edit this post but for now i hope yall have a good day :]

[limbus-limousine]

Ik you're mostly a Sinclair poster (a very good one at that) but do you have any animal associations for Dante? Or any of the other sinners for that matter

YES YES ACTUALLY!!! SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS ASK...

I have a list of animal associations for project moon characters in general... I'm still working on it but I eventually want to get to background characters too like the optional ruina receptions etc. But currently these are my thoughts for limbus...

Dante: Merulanella blister/tricolor isopod (a perfect match if you ask me... very expensive collectionist morph too). This might change once we know more about them though!

For Verg and Charon I still have to think some up... But Charon is giving mustelid I must say

Yi Sang: Hooded crow + cicada

Dongbaek: Caramel crow!! (This would be a regular American crow, caramel is a mutation that's still being researched which gives them a creamy brown coloration)

Samjo: Great auk (extinct diver bird/penguin) + Royal tern + otter

Dongrang: African forest buffalo + blue roan shorthorn + Oxpecker + cattle egret

Faust: Rock ptarmigan + wooly aphid (still want to look for more...)

Don Quixote: Quagga + Bearded vulture + Monitor lizard

Ryoshu: Horned owl + Dragontail butterfly + Moth (still need to look into species) + ratsnake/black mamba (reference to Hell Screen)

Meursault: Honestly very hard choice... Mostly for personality reasons, I've been thinking of a Nurse shark + MAYBE badger (noctural + def. want an omnivore in there) + Clam or something

Hong Lu: Mantis shrimp + lemur + Sinosauropteryx (chinese compsognathid with conserved pigments of a ringed tail!)

Heathcliff: Aardwolf + Bronze-tailed peacock-pheasant (want to look for more too...)

Ishmael: Orca (only predator of whales) + kutchicetus (cetacean transitional fossil) + lobster

Ahab: Sperm whale + Narwhal + polar bear

Queequeg: Leopard seal

Rodya: Manul + Cozumel raccoon

Sonya: Leucistic amur leopard + Mediterranean fruit fly

Sinclair (more details...): Eurasian sparrowhawk + indeterminate canine traits. I imagine him as a bilateral gynandromorph (half male/female mutation), inspired by the real recorded specimens of lazuli buntings and canaries.

Demian: Malayan blue coral snake + Boelen's python + Luzon bleeding-heart dove. Pondering on lamb motif + maybe some traces of corvid

Kromer: Mountain lion + Hercules beetle grub + red headed centipede + some mantid perhaps (looking into it)

Outis: Przewalski's horse, or maybe a Mustang (debating, I'm not as informed about equines !) + Harris Hawk + Black headed python

Gregor: Painted trilobite cockroach (infestation) + Ensign wasp (main/original body) + House centipede

[catwyk]

3, 7, 12 and 35 for the artist ask game (:

3: what's a piece i like?

this painting of eleanor lamb from bioshock 2!!! its pretty old now, i mustve done it back in 2022(?) when i was still in the throes of style development (still am, but not quite so much)

7: what's easiest for me to draw?

well, i default to people and their faces generally. i find faces easy to draw but hard to draw consistently. if we're getting really specific, i LOVE to draw folds and wrinkles, both in fabric and skin, and my inclination to do so is probably a big reason why i never got super into stylized/cartoonish art

12: describe my drawing process

changes between style and medium, but generally it goes sketch -> refine details -> this is a bit shit isnt it -> erase huge chunk and fix it -> erase the rest to make it fit with the new bit -> this sucks. -> close the file -> open a new file -> draw a circle -> close the file -> open a new file -> draw a circle -> ctrl z -> draw a circle -> ctrl z -> draw a circle -> do the ACTUAL sketch -> ugh this would look better with color -> slap some colors on underneath -> refine sketch -> randomly start shading -> i need this bit to be refined + cleaned if i wanna shade it ughh -> repeat last 3 stepz until the picture is done

35: advice for my younger self

do more studies. copy some impressionists and try and emulate art noveau. stop floundering helplessly in style development and be proactive. yes it will look like shit compared to your reference. but it wont look shit forever

[ahsteria]

can we read the murder lesbians short story

!!!!! YES omg its under the cut <33 a little over 1k words and is one of my first attempts at creative writing would love if anyone read or gave feedback soooo much okk here it is

"define, desire":

To the outsider, Anna’s attention is failing. She sits alone at one of the library’s hexagonal tables, has turned the page maybe once in the past hour. What the outsider doesn’t understand, is that Anna's attention is an arrow with a string, sharp and resolute point embedded in its mark. It’s not her fault, really, how can she be expected to focus on East of Eden when God’s favorite angel is typing in her peripheral. Mari is wearing thin, silver framed glasses today, enlarging her already lamb-like eyes.  

Five months ago Anna’s mother passed, leaving her the pale yellow-painted estate and an ever-unsatisfied well wedged deep in her stomach, unrelenting thing. September was rain waving hello, through windows on slow train rides from Anna’s Brooklyn apartment to the quiet and innocuous woods of Seneca Falls. Her intention was never to stay, this was promptly ruined on a notably gray September Sunday: Anna subjected to tediously returning her late mother’s stack of overdue romance novels. Upon first glance, she mistook Mari for actual, inhuman art. It’s nice that the library is investing in the fine arts, she thought. Oh, oh but then the beauty blinked itself alive, flesh and blood, Pygmalion and Galatea. Silver-blonde hair ending at the dip of visible hip bones, her front strands framing those fucking doe eyes. When reading The Argonautica, she thought Jason's men stupid for being unable to resist the sirens’ call. She sympathizes with them now. Mari is desire personified, something sicker than yearning. Flesh and blood cannot look like that. Anna moved to Seneca Falls the following week.

Anna is not insane. She and Mari are friends. It began with books (Anna often watches Mari’s desk then purchases her current read from the local bookstore). Sometimes they’ll discuss art (Anna’s favorite pieces may, on common occasions, feature fair maidens with notably defined anatomy). Recently, they’ve been frequenting local events (she’s canceled three appointments now to attend said events with Mari). The two of them, in fact, went to the loveliest gallery opening last month and shared a slice of blackberry lemon-crème cake. Mari fed Anna a bite with her fork: a doubly bittersweet, indirect kiss. Mari mentioned a craving for it two days ago, red lips in a distracting, horrifying pout. So Anna, in a normal, nonchalant way, called the gallery with the intent of purchasing an entire cake. Tragically, she failed to locate the baker. The gallery was lucky enough however, to have a copy for allergy concerns, which was faxed over. Mari gifted her a kiss on the cheek for it yesterday: a bullet to rational thinking. And so, here is Anna, thinking about warm lips and delicate wrists and flushed skin as Steinbeck’s open pages collect dust. 

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Mari has never been more beautiful than in Anna’s late-mother’s kitchen. It’s not the kitchen really, with its outdated black and white tiled backsplash, nor even the setting sun’s orange light placing a halo atop her head. It’s Mari suggesting they bake the cake together, Anna’s kitchen is bigger anyway, it’ll be nice, she had said. Suggested so casually, as if not filling Anna’s mind with sickly craving, sugarcoated daydreams.

The cake is cooling now, on the silver rack beside the knife block. They’re making frosting. It’s difficult for Anna to pay much care to anything besides the smear of buttercream on Mari’s forearm. She thinks of placing her mouth on it, saccharine skin. Mari smiles, full face, and it's then Anna realizes she’s been talking. 

“Sorry—missed that,” Anna says.

“Oh I just said the photo on your fridge, it’s nice,” Mari replies.

Mari is referring to a photo of her mother—loose brown curls and stress lines around the eyes, her smile is strained only slightly, it’s almost indiscernible. Anna is seated next to her, same strained smile but significantly less disguised. 

“Oh, thanks. That’s my mom, we took it over there.” Anna nods towards the blue velvet couch in the living room where they had then posed for the hired photographer. 

“Cute. You look like her.” Mari says. 

Soon the conversation moves to the new Margaret Atwood they’re both ‘coincidentally’ reading. The butter churns, loud and repetitive, like a third voice interrupting the discussion. Mari snacks on spare blackberries as they wait, her hands match Persephone’s, all stained red. 

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

It’s horrific, two toppling layers, collapsing under the weight of undoubtedly too much lemon buttercream; blackberries lazily clinging to swirled dollops. There’s a sheen to it, moonlight on the melting fat of the frosting. 

“It’s beautiful,” Anna quips. Mari laughs, taking a knife out of the block, eager to taste.

“It’s a scale model of the fucking leaning tower of pizza—” Mari says.

“You’re beautiful.” Anna interrupts, unable to help herself. Oh, she’s ruined it now. This was supposed to be a quiet, careful seduction—waves ebbing at rocks so slowly that the rock never realizes when exactly, it goes under. A sea stack.  

Mari’s eyes go big and pleased. She smiles, impossibly, wider.

Oh fuck, oh, oh fuck, Anna thinks. Does she know? Shit. Anna is sick, sick with want, poisoned by something carnal and consuming.

“You’re lovely,” Mari says, as if it’s simple.

She’s close, now, the warmth of her skin corporeal. The red nail polish of Mari’s fingers meets the cotton of Anna’s shirt. Anna gently claps her wrist, takes the knife out of her hand, a tentative touch. The whole thing is lovely really: the delicate press of bone against skin, Mari’s breath, soft against hers, and Anna’s knife, deep in Mari’s guts.

Desire: “to strongly wish for or want (something),” this “something” is undefined. Romance perhaps, sex, money, love, or, in Anna’s case, violence, flavored with sacrilege. When Anna first realized that Mari was not in fact, sterile art,  she was overcome with desire to kill something that is holy and also alive.  Mari is screaming, an angel’s chorus. Prey eyes thick with tears, the confusion of a calf raised by a butcher. Her blood is blackberry juice against buttercream, pouring out from the mouth, catching on the veins of her throat, pooling in her clavicle, then trickling back into the original wound in the stomach. Collapsing, strings cut, she fades into a beautiful lifelessness, ars longa vita brevis. Unrelenting hunger satisfied, Mari lies on the floor— Millais’ Ophelia. Anna is ecstatic, a bit in awe. She thinks herself a sort of artist, the corpse on the floor her undying masterpiece. High on ultimate hedonism, Anna notices blood splattered on the cake. She takes the frosting on her finger, metallic, sour, and too-sweet, it’s quite good. A shame, Anna thinks, that she never got to try a slice. 

[ceratatata]

LOOK WHAT I FOUND

It's her!!! It's Lamby baby!!!! (Picrew under the cut)

And yes there's a bell instead of her scarf; it would only let me have one or the other :< the paint is also canon to her! I'm just too damn lazy to draw it most of the time tho

Here's the picrew :3ccc

[raine-y-days]

let me take a moment of your time to share the funniest official shamura image in exisence

this is a shot from the release trailer

they're just

[inkandpen22]

First Meeting

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Y/N begins her 1st day as a member of the BAU and Spencer is immediately taken by her

A/N: I’m always adding new one shots for Reid so if you’d like to be tagged lmk!

Masterlist

Spencer

Garcia comes up beside me on my way to the meeting room, all excited and bouncy. "Did you hear we're getting a newbie today?" 

I stop in my tracks with a huff. "Wait, what? No! No one told me!" JJ walks by on her way to the briefing and I ask her. "Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?" 

"Hotch is bringing her up now," JJ grins over her shoulder. 

"Her?" I repeat, following her into the room. 

"Yeah, he's going to introduce her during the UnSub briefing," Morgan adds as he takes his usual set. 

"Did everyone know about this before me?" I sigh, plopping down in my chair. 

"Apparently," Morgan pokes fun. 

"Morning everyone," Hotch greets as he marches into the room. 

"Morning," everyone else greets as I set my stuff down. 

"Good-" My words disappear as I lift my attention away from my files toward the door and that's when I see her. 

"This is Agent Y/N Y/L/N," Hotch introduces. "She is of the most recent Quantico graduating class and will be joining our team." 

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," JJ offers Y/N her hand. 

The girl shakes her hand with a warm smile. "You too! Thank you guys for letting me sit in," she announces to the group. 

I swallow hard. She's so young, she's like me. 

"How old are you anyway?" Morgan questions, leaning back in his chair. 

"Twenty-two," she answers. I knew it. "I graduated undergrad early." 

"Aw like Spence," Prentiss gushes. 

I don't even react to Prentiss petting my hair. Usually, I would swat her hand away. All I can do is stare at Y/N. I've lost all function like a robot missing a piece. 

"Spencer?" JJ says my name with a hint of worry. It sounds like background noise, so faint. 

Morgan chuckles. "I think Reid's head just exploded." 

"Earth to Spencer," Prentiss waves her hand in front of my face. 

I snap out of my daze and swat her hand away. "Stop it," I mumble. 

A blush forms on my cheeks, I can feel it. I clear my throat nervously and try to act normal as I open up my file. Y/N takes the empty chair across the table from me. She offers me a smile. I feel this weird feeling in my stomach like I've had too much coffee and am all jittery. 

JJ redirects everyone's attention to the screen. "Okay guys, let's begin. We've been receiving a series of calls from several police stations in Atlanta. There's been a series of livestock killings ranging from pigs to more commonly lambs. Each stabbed and hearts removed. Then, symbols painting on her foreheads and stomachs." 

"Go back please," Y/N requests, surprising everyone. 

JJ's brows scrunch together. "Do you see something, Y/N?" 

"The locals think it's a cult?" She asks. 

JJ looks over her papers and nods. "Yes actually." 

"It's not," Y/N states with the utmost certainty. 

My brows scrunch together as I begin to analyze the image myself. I wasn't paying attention before. I hate to admit it, but I was distracted. She's right, this isn't the work of a cult. 

"How can you tell?" Hotch questions with narrowed eyes. 

"The pentagram is wrong," I answer. My eyes meet Y/N's and she smiles. 

"We're more likely dealing with teens or college students, outcasts, trying to scare the community," she adds. "Is that a college nearby?" 

JJ skims her research and pulls out a sheet. "Yes, two." 

"Does one of a greater population of local students?" I ask. 

"Um..." JJ reads. "Yes." 

"I think we should start there," Y/N concludes. 

Hotch nods, rising from his chair. "Okay, wheels up in an hour everyone. Prepare," he instructs before heading to the door. "Good work, Y/N." 

"Thank you, Sir," she grins, evidently proud of herself. 

"Now there's two of him," Morgan chuckles as he gathers his things. 

Y/N laughs. "What?" 

"He's referring to me," I assure her. "The way you noticed the unfinished pentagram and narrowed down the profile, usually, I do that." 

"Oh, sorry!" She's quick to apologize. 

"No, no!" I wave my hands in a panic. "It's nice having someone else around who notices details like that. Makes me feel less annoying and a know-it-all." 

______________________________________

Y/N

Hotchner, Reid, and I stand on the other side of the one-way mirror as our next interviewee gets settled in by the police. He's a student at the local university and fits the M.O. A complete outsider, impressionable, a history of emotional disorders and animal abuse, it's a perfect match. 

"Sir, do you think Spencer and I could go in?" I request. 

Hotchner raises a brow. "Do you think you're ready?" 

"Yes, and just in case that's why I ask to have Spencer with me." 

"Spencer, what do you think?" The leader questions, watching as the cops release Brian from his handcuffs and depart the room. 

Spencer glances past Hotchner over to me. He nods. "I think she's ready, Sir." 

I suppress a smile and redirect my attention to our potential UnSub. 

"Very well, go ahead," Hotchner approves. 

"Thank you, Sir," I say as I head toward the door. 

Spencer holds the door for me and we step out into the hall. 

Before we enter the interview room, I had my file over to Spencer. 

"Here, could you hold this for a second?" 

He takes the stack nervously. "What... What are you doing?" 

"I have an idea." I remove my scrunchie from my hair and toss it around a bit. Spencer watches as I slip my scrunchie onto my wrist and begin to unbotton the top to buttons of my blouse. I readjust my boobs a little and pull down my blouse. I take the waist of my skirt and pull it up a little. "How do I look?" I ask the boy when I'm done. 

"I... uh... I..." He stammers. 

"Perfect!" I smile, taking back my things. 

I enter the room first, Spencer following close behind. "Hi Brian, I'm Agent Y/L/N and this is Agent Dr. Reid," I introduce as we take our seats across the table. 

"You two look like you could go to my school," Brian laughs. "How old are you guys anyway?" 

 I smile and ignore his question and stick to the topic. "We're just going to ask you a few questions." 

Brian smirks. "Well, can I ask you something first?" 

"Of course," I assure him. 

"Can I have your number?" He asks boldly. 

"I um..." I'm at a loss for words. 

"I don't think that's very appropriate." Spencer defends with a stern tone. 

"What? Are you her boyfriend or something?" Brian mocks. 

"Uh no, but this isn't a personal conversation this is an investigation, so let's stick to only necessary questions," 

Brian complies and I continue my interview. He gets off track here and there, but Spencer steps in. I'm thankful that Spencer is quiet for the most part, only when to redirect Brian back to the purpose of our interview. I feel calmer with Spencer next to me. For some reason, his presence makes me feel safe even though we may have a serial animal abuser and cult member across the table from us. When I conclude our interview, Spencer and I rise from our chairs. I tell Brian that authorities will be in soon to take more of his information. 

"So how's about a date?" He asks again for a third time within the last thirty minutes. 

I ignore him as Spencer opens the door for me. 

"What? I'm not your type?" The kid chuckles. 

I stop and spin on my heels to face Brian. I press my palms against the table and lean closer to the boy, startling him. "Frankly no, you're not. I'm into older guys and... well..." I eye him up and down and giggle. "You're nothing but a kid." 

He swallows hard, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. I smirk and step outside into the hall. Spencer joins me and shuts the door behind us. He wears a bewildered expression. I begin to tie my hair up again and button up my shirt. 

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he voices as we head toward the door to the watch room.  

I shrug. "Eh it's okay, he's just a kid. Plus, I'm used to it." 

When we enter, Morgan and Hotchner are still observing Brian's behavior. Morgan steps closer to Hotchner, making room for Spencer and me. I catch a glimpse of Brian through the mirror and his head is in his hands. 

"Good work," Hotchner compliments us. 

"Interesting approaching," Morgan nods. "Seems to be working." 

"Thank you," I grin, bringing my arms crossed over my chest. "I figured it was worth a shot. 

A comfortable silence remains in the room as the four of us watch Brian slowly crumble. 

Spencer leans closer to me and I extend my neck out to him. "Is it true, what you said about being into older guys?" He questions quietly between us. 

I turn my head to look at him and his face is full of curiosity. "How old are you?" I ask. 

His brows scrunch together. "Twenty-seven." 

I smile, turning my attention back to Brian as he continues to fidget. "Yes, it's true." I back up to step outside and fetch a coffee. I suspect this will be a long night. 

Spencer

Right as Y/N steps out, Morgan sighs. "Aw Reid, you're in trouble man," he laughs. 

Hotch chuckles from beside him. 

I frown. "What do you mean?" 

"Seriously?" Morgan raises a brow as he turns his body to face me. "She just told you she's into you." 

"No, she didn't, she just asked me how old I am and told me-" I pause, reviewing our interaction just seconds prior and I begin to piece it all together. My eyes grow wide. "Holy crap, she's into me!" 

"You better jump on that, Big Guy!" Morgan pats me on the shoulder. 

Hotch wears a sly grin, pretending to be focused on Brian, but it's evident he's amused by us. 

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @mrsobrien888​ @hufflepufftruffle @gillybear17 @thatsonezesty13 @smol-flowerkiddo @reesespieces10123 @madds-m @az3r0o @wafflebacon23 @spencerreid-mgg @alfonsais @justlivinginadaydream @kaitlynpcallmebeepme @farah3012 

@doveygirlkay-blog @dreatine  @imhappybutimalsosad @parahmur  @tremendousdinosaurhideout  @destiny-dream67  @ashwarren32  @yeahjustcallmer-n @bluehydrangea-cherry​ @izzysecrets

[fallout-boiiiiii]

Infinity on high pt 2

Wave four reference design pictured above

Step four: bling it out

Once all the paint work was done and dry, there was little else this custom called for. I got my planet charm on one shoe and my silver lamb (yes lamb) for the other. I had to buy jump rings off of Amazon and thread the charms through them to string the laces through the charms to secure them to the shoe. It was a pain in the ass because the jump rings were, predictably, tiny. My hands were sweating from the effort of prying them open which made the situation worse but after about 20 minutes and a pair of tweezers, the charms were on the rings. After that I just had to lace the shoes up with the charms in place. The planet charm is from Amazon and the lamb charm is from AWaywithCharms on Etsy.

[mspareader]

I never do these but my fiancee @littleyarngoblin tagged me so actually im legally obligated to now :P

10 People You Want to Know Better

Relationship status: See above lmao. Going on 6 years together!! At this point the engagement is a formality though, we already call each other *borat voice* my wife all the time

Favorite colors: Green! All of them are good but if you wanna get specific I love a bright chartreuse and a deep dark bluey forest green. I also love eye bleeding neon colors and light blues and bright reds for sketching in, and you can never go wrong with navy blue. This is a terrible question to ask a designer.

Favorite foods: Oranges/orange juice (I get called the citrus goblin by most of my social circle) and also my dad’s steak/lamb chops and ALSO so much garlic :)

Song stuck in my head: Lately it’s been Mirror by Porter Robinson. Literally phenomenal musician if u havent heard of him (and also Madeon) go check them both out lol

Last thing you googled: “bluey homestuck” (we were talking about pop culture references in the show dont @ me)

Time: not enough of it

Dream trip: Oh god I have too many of these... I can narrow it down to 2 though - hiking in the fjords in Scandinavia, and doing a cultural and design history tour of Japan (with my wife of course)

Last thing you read: If we’re being technical its the description for the plan of a museum exhibit. If we’re being normal its some 😳 fanfic.

Last book you enjoyed reading: The Illuminae Files by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff - oh my god what an experience! even if you don’t like budding teen romance, space operas, or epistolary narration, the graphic design and multi-media presentation of this series alone makes it worth reading. I am passionate about this. I made a powerpoint about it. (Please talk to me about it.)

Favorite thing to cook/bake: I absolutely destroy at making gluten free brownies :P

Favorite craft to do in your free time: leatherworking and miniature painting! (also a light smattering of CAD for 3D printing lol)

Opinion on circuses: Not big on them. The performers are very talented but the animal abuse and working conditions and overall history aren’t it man. If u wanna watch some acrobats go to cirque du soleil its so much better I promise.

Most niche dislike: When people take bites out of kitkats without breaking them first, kaelyn. :P

Do you have a sense of direction?: If I’ve been somewhere twice, I can navigate there myself the third time without help (yes)

tagging: @2bagelsinatrenchcoat @mantiscandy @sheep-socks @avangion and @hotdogmchiggin. Have fun!

[therealsaintscully]

Mary and butterflies - the inevitability of death, murderous calling cards and collectors

Some ramblings with links to other people’s excellent meta, in which I suggest that butterflies (and/or moths) symbolize Mary as Moriarty’s reincarnation and or calling card, while also hint at her inevitable death.

Disclaimers: credits are below the cut. I’m not an expert in any of these topics. Thank you, @thewatsonbeekeepers​​ for the beta. In this post I’ll be using moths and butterflies interchangeably, apologies to any entomologists.

Mary’s appearance in the show brings with it new imagery we haven’t seen prior to The Empty Hearse - butterflies. Once Mary’s in the picture, there are butterflies in some very strategic locations, all are either visually or subtextually leading to her. The show has done that previous to season 3; Moriarty is connected to some well established symbols like magpies, apples and IOUs. 

When I first started reading meta I used to think these themes were a bit of a stretch, but I’ve since accepted  that this is a show that puts barely noticeable phoenixes in a restaurant scene that shows us Sherlock rising from his death.

Here are some of the butterflies I spotted so far:

Butterflies (and in the case of this piece of meta, moth) symbolize most commonly resurrection, change and renewal. Behind the symbolism stands the transformation of a small, ungainly creature into something full-grown and unbound. In that case, in the simplest way, one could argue that butterflies were chosen to symbolize her because the ‘Mary Morstan’ persona was a stillborn’s identity that was stolen and used ‘reborn’ to create a new person.

But more than this simplistic idea; butterflies carry multiple symbolisms. When it comes to Sherlock, I and many others tend to look at Victorian symbolism, considering the detective’s Victorian roots. 

I find the appearance of butterflies interesting in Mary’s context, much like I find the skull interesting in Sherlock’s. The skulls, in Sherlock’s case, serve plenty of purposes, but one of them is the idea of memento mori.

Memento mori (Latin for 'remember that you [have to] die') is an artistic or symbolic reminder of the inevitability of death. These are representations that can appear in any form of art such as paintings, literature, poetry etc. It’s a concept that existed in many ancient cultures but is also deeply rooted in early Christianity. It serves to remind people of the inevitable; that even if we choose to ignore it, not think about it, it’s always there lurking, and the purpose is not to scare us but to encourage us to make good use of our time when we’re alive. Memento mori was the philosophy of reflecting on your own death as a form of spiritual improvement, and rejecting earthly vanities.

Victorians were obsessed with the concept (weren’t Victorians obsessed with everything?). They would take photographs of the dead and keep locks of hair of those who died in mourning brooches. It is said that they found these practices comforting. 

Another expression of the ‘remember that you must die’ concept was vanitas art;  vanitas is a symbolic work of art showing the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. The Latin noun vanitas (from the Latin adjective vanus 'empty') means 'emptiness', 'futility', or 'worthlessness', the traditional Christian view being that earthly goods and pursuits are transient and worthless. It alludes to Ecclesiastes 1:2; 12:8, where vanitas translates the Hebrew word hevel (הבל), which also includes the concept of transitoriness. 

This concept reminds me, most especially, of the skull used in The Abominable Bride, which is actually Charles Allen Gilbert's 'All is Vanity' Illusion art.

Back to butterflies - butterflies are a staple component of vanitas art - paintings executed in the vanitas style were meant to remind viewers of the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. They also provided a moral justification for painting attractive objects - in a way, it’s a justification for the vanity, or the human need of enjoyment of beautiful things.  Below is a vanitas by Jan Sanders van Hemessen:

But butterflies are also considered an omen of death: 

“Butterflies and moths were associated with death, sometimes merely as omens, sometimes as the soul or ghost.” These butterfly omens came in many ways.  For example, in the nineteenth century United States, some people thought that a trio of butterflies was an omen of death.” [x]

Oh.

But I also think there’s more to the butterfly symbolism than Mary’s imminent death; I suggest that, in keeping with @loudest-subtext-in-tv​ M-Theory (suggesting that Mary was planted in John’s life by Moriarty), they symbolize Mary as Moriarty reincarnated following his death in TRF. That Moriarty had indeed not disappointed Sherlock - there was a posthumous game after all! That Sherlock was supposed to understand that while one form of Moriarty died on that roof, another had emerged, continuing the mission of burning Sherlock’s heart. Mary is Moriarty’s calling card, left behind in the crime scene. They’re different, but not separate, which is why Sherlock is so obsessed with Moriarty between HLV-T6T; he’s both wrong and correct at the same time.

So far, what I’ve suggested is that in Sherlock, skulls are Sherlock’s symbolic memento mori - the skulls are associated with Sherlock in some very significant ways. 

However, Mary’s character was doomed from the start - she dies during Sherlock’s hiatus in ACD canon. I believe many fans assumed Sherlock’s Mary expected the same fate when she was introduced to the show. Although the story of Samarra is told by Sherlock, who expects his own death in T6T, Mary is the one who ends up dying. 

Butterflies in ACD canon

Searching for the significance of butterflies in the ACD and BBC canon led me to a number of interesting directions in meta written by others. 

The first and probably the best place to start is this meta post by @tendergingergirl​​, which I strongly suggest you read in full: Butterflies, Sexual Deviancy & The Bloodline Theory in The Hound of The Baskervilles. 

Stapleton also has a hobby. He collects bugs…Butterflies, to be exact. This can often be seen as purely academic, but depending on the actions of the hobbyist, they can indicate more disturbing things. That of holding something vulnerable captive, treating it as your hostage, pinning it down. The torture of animals has come to be a good indicator of someone who would do this to a human. He had already shown callousness by laughing as he recounts to Holmes of ponies wandering onto the Moor, becoming trapped, and dying. In 1974, there was a release of a new edition of Sherlock Holmes stories, with the forward of The Hound of The Baskervilles written by British author, John Fowles. He is responsible for several well-known works, including The French Lieutenant’s Wife. Another, was a novel that Mason finds himself wondering why Fowles doesn’t mention in his introduction, since the villain is such a close parallel to Stapleton.(but as we have learned through the study of ACD, most writers will not come right out and say where they got their inspiration. They like for you to guess!)

A lonely young man, works as a clerk, and collects butterflies, becomes obsessed with a pretty young girl, Miranda, an art student. He chloroforms, and kidnaps her, taking her to his cellar basement, to add Miranda to his collection. That book was called The Collector. But what else does it sound like?

“So yes, I googled. From an article on the release of the movie’s Documentary. "The docu proves a poor reference point for anyone who wants to understand the literary and movie links for “Lambs.” There’s no mention, for example, of how Harris partly based the butterfly-loving Bill on John Fowles’ kidnapper in “The Collector” …And here I thought Mofftiss added allusions to Silence of The Lambs into Sherlock just for fun. SMH.”

@tendergingergirl​ also added this photo to their post:

So what we have here is a chain of metatextualities/inspiration, starting with ACD’s THOB, where Jack Stapelton inspires a book about a disturbed butterfly collector (The Collector by John Fowles), which inspires a the author of Silence of the Lambs in creation of his character Buffalo Bill, a serial murderer who inserts a death's head moth into the victim's throat because he is fascinated by the insect's metamorphosis. Silence of the Lambs served as inspiration for Sherlock  as analyzed by @garkgatiss​ in Bond, Hannibal, and Holmes (I suggest you read the whole Hannibal section) . 

Let’s look again at some imagery from His Last Vow. Mary shoots Sherlock’s heart, essentially burning his heart out, and who does Sherlock meet in his Mind Palace in a very cocoon-like straightjacket? Yes, the dead dude who encourages him to die already (“one more push, and off you pop”).

What’s the next thing we as an audience see once Sherlock opens his eyes? Mary coming to the hospital to hear that Sherlock had, in fact, survived. And what is she wearing? Her butterfly scarf, one which will another appearance later in the episode, during the tarmac scene.

I also find it interesting that in the context of Sherlock and Silence of the Lamb, there’s an element of gender-switching between Moriarty and Mary. Buffalo Bill, the murderer from Silence of the Lambs, skins bodies of women to create himself a woman’s 'suit’; in Sherlock, Moriarty is a man-villain who transforms into a female-villain in the form of a bride and/or Mary. 

By the way, who else is obsessed with his suits?

Also, let’s not forget the worms, maggots and other such crawlers in the grave scene:

Now, let’s go over some of the photos I included in the beginning of this post a bit further.

Mrs. Hudson’s butterfly tea set is first shown in TEH - she uses it to serve John tea when he comes visiting her and tellis her about Mary. We also see it near John’s chair on the day of the wedding. This isn’t Sherlock’s set - his set is different, featuring the British Isles. Moriarty drinks from it in TRF. The next tea set we see, now that Moriarty is dead, is the butterflies one. In TLD, Mrs. Hudson uses Sherlock’s tea set - the butterflies are gone.

Mary’s bedroom wallpaper is very feminine, with flowers and butterflies, both complementing symbols while also very common in vanitas art. Much like Mrs. Hudson’s wallpaper in Baker Street, Mary’s wallpaper is supposed to show the contrast between Mary’s flat/Mary and Sherlock’s flat/Sherlock.

There’s an interesting moth reference in The Empty Hearse, which in my opinion, is Mary & Moriarty related. In short, in a previous piece of meta I wrote, I suggested that the Jack the Ripper case in TEH is subtext alluding to Mary’s skeletons, which Sherlock ignores because he’s upset by his reception by John. And what’s one of the first things Sherlock notices about the skeleton? New mothballs smell, hinting at an attempt to get rid of moth/butterflies - maybe a hint to  the fact that Sherlock has a chance to discover the truth about Mary but misses it. Also, in the context of Mary and the Jack the Ripper case, notice this transition:

Transitions are important on Sherlock - they’re nearly always there to draw our attention.

This, I think, is perhaps the most telling about a possible connection between Mary and Moriarty: we have both magpies (a Moriarty hint) and butterflies together here. This isn’t the only hint of Mary’s past we get in the wedding; there is, after all, the telegram from CAM.

Mary’s scarf is colorful, and it appears by the time Sherlock’s subconscious suspects Mary. Mary’s black butterfly dress - an ominous dress, I’d say - is the one she wears during the labour scene in the car. The third photo is a behind the scenes photo uploaded by Amanda Abbington, although I’m unsure whether this necklace is AA’s or Mary’s (but I couldn’t pass on including this).

Interestingly, the butterflies do not appear in Rosie’s context - either because it’s a telling sign that Mary won’t be with us much longer, or because Rosie is spared being considered a part of the ‘burning Sherlock’s heart’ plan. Sherlock, on the surface, seems to love Rosie and accepts her.

Also, another BTS photograph I came across during my research which I’ve never seen before and ties nicely to the vanity topic is this one (found here):

The Death's-head hawkmoth and ‘Death with Interruptions’

You’ll recall that I referenced The Collector and Silence of the Lambs, both featuring butterflies on their cover art. 

The Silence of the Lambs cover features Acherontia atropos, otherwise known as the death's-head hawkmoth. It gets its name from the sinister-looking skull shape on its back. In many cultures it is thought to be an omen of death. In a bit of another coincidental but stunning piece of symbolism, all three species of the Death's-head hawkmoth are commonly observed raiding beehives of different species of honey bee; A. atropos only invades colonies of the well-known western honey bee, Apis mellifera, and feeds on both nectar and honey. They can move about in hives without being disturbed because they mimic the scent of the bees and are not recognised as intruders.

Anyway, the use of Acherontia atropos reminded me of the book ‘Death with Interruptions’ by Jose Saramago. Interestingly, this is another book about a deathly collector with a butterfly on the cover:

In Death with Interruptions death is a woman, and she falls in love with one of her future victims. She decides to spare his life: Every time death sends him his letter [notifying him of his imminent death], it gets returned. death discovers that, without reason, this man has mistakenly not been killed. Although originally intending merely to analyse this man and discover why he is unique, death eventually becomes infatuated with him, so much so that she takes on human form to meet him. Upon visiting the cellist, she plans to personally give him the letter; instead, she falls in love with him, and, by doing so, she becomes even more human-like.

It’s pretty common to read theories about Mary who maybe was one of the assassins due to kill John both at the pool and in front of Barts. So we have a death harbinger trying to kill someone twice and failing. She then falls in love with him.

But how does the butterfly fit in?

Well, at some point in the story, death (that’s her name, sans a capital d), contemplates that using the death head butterfly, instead of a violet piece of paper, would have sent a much stronger message to those whose death is coming for.

And here’s another last bit of coincidental reference to Sherlock: I’d argue shades of purple, among them shades of violet, are associated with Mary and her secrets. There’s the purple dress she wears in TEH, her bridesmaids’ dresses include various shades of purple (including what I would argue was a violet sash) and let’s not forget:

Oh and, by the way, remember the song Donde Estas, Yolanda from TEH, about a woman called Yolanda? Always thought it was a bit of an odd choice for a song?

Yolanda is a female given name, of Greek origin, meaning Violet.

:)

Thoughts?

Credits: thank you @lukessense​ for directing me to @tendergingergirl​ meta about butterflies. Episode screenshots are from kissthemgoodbye.net.

@sarahthecoat​  @tjlcisthenewsexy​ @devoursjohnlock​ @inevitably-johnlocked​ @shylockgnomes​ @possiblyimbiassed​ @raggedyblue​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @gosherlocked​ @waitedforgarridebs​ @helloliriels​