#Spikes 🌼

[woodlandscab1n]

Hey, we are Woodland 🌲 [ it/its , The Woodland ], we are a plural system mainly composed of fictives.

This blog is our primary, it's mostly a little hub. We occasionally will rant here.

Main: @sylvantemen0s | Art: @hyper-cryptic | Hoard: @rekos-graphic-hoard

↳ 📑General FYI: We are queerpunk, pro-endogenic, pro-palestine, anti-radqueer/prat. Ship discourse is stupid, we don't trust pro-sh/ppers

If you wanna filter or see something, here ya go:

↳ 🔖#cw discourse , #cw vent , #cw suggestive , #re posting and #bookmark.

[sobbingscripter]

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 3005🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Do… do you think we’re friends in every universe?”

Mark’s voice is quiet, back pressed against freshly mowed grass, eyes focused on the starry sky above you. It stretches endlessly, an abyss dotted with the faintest glows, celestial pools that reflect off your pupils and you hum. Chewing on your bottom lip.

“I think so.”

You shift on the grass, your shoulder bumping against his and your head bumps lightly against his, and Mark bites back a grin, but you can see the dimples that threaten to appear in his cheeks. “Yeah?” He whispers.

“Mhm.” You swallow. “It doesn’t seem right that I’d only know you in one life.”

Mark’s fingers lace with yours, his pudgy digit tracing over the pretty ring that adorns your thumb.

“I think we always find each other. Even if, like, I don’t know, different worlds. Or timelines. Or species.”

His eyes remain trained on the black above him, wind rustling at the cypress branches, blades of grass tickling the back of his neck, the backs of his legs and he glances at you, pupils dilated so much that you’d think he was on something.

Lashes fluttering shut, the ball of your nose brushing against his and your lips brushing over his. In a sweet, chaste promise that managed to toe the line between friendship and something neither of you could comprehend.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“You fought and won, against Godzilla. Like, literally.” You deadpan. “But an off-brand kraken with toenails and spikes, rocks your shit?”

Your scoff breaks Mark from his reverie, his eyes moving to where you’re perched on the closed lid of your toilet, arms crossing over your chest and obscuring nearly half the image of your oversized sleeping tee.

Mark’s never seen that fucking T-shirt leave your wardrobe.

Ratty, frayed at the neckline. A faded print of some presidential candidate from how many years ago. He knows you couldn’t even vote then.

“I didn’t get my shit rocked.” Mark speaks, clearing his throat to get rid of the lump because this is the closest he’s been to his best friend in a while. No arguing, no tension. Just you taking care of him, like you always have.

“Fine, you got your shit jostled.” You correct yourself and he snorts, the cut on his bottom lip doing nothing to prevent that dorkish grin from spreading across his face.

“I won, didn’t I?” He brags.

“Barely. Vincible.”

He rolls his eyes at your chide, before resting back against the edge of the tub, soaking his aching muscles in the concoction of Epsom salts and hot water, bubbles frothing at the surface because Mark refuses a bath where he doesn’t get to use your bubble bath.

The scent clings to his skin, and he lets out a breath, taking in that sweet smell before peeking at you from beneath his lashes.

“Put those ladyfingers to work.”

He hums, eyes fluttering shut and he cocks an even wider grin at the sound of you shuffling, wetting your hands before squeezing a generous glob of shampoo into your palm, griping all the way as you rub our palms, waiting patiently until it emulsifies.

Snowy cream is strewn from between your hands before you massage it onto Mark’s scalp, scratching and watching the way his eyes roll back in his head.

His hand moves to grip your thigh, brows scrunching into a pleased frown at the way your nails rake against his skin, scratching at the nape of his neck and your palms work a thick lather into his hair.

“Your hair’s not even dirty.” You huff. And Mark groans in a ploy to shut you up and it works. But not because he’s interrupting you.

But because you’re watching the way suds slide down the side of his neck, settling in the crevice of the muscle and your watching his broad chest heaves, pink lips parting to let out relaxed sighs and you’re questioning everything you’ve ever known.

You know you have a thing for Mark, that’s for sure. You’ve basically lived on the manifestation side of TikTok in an attempt to get him to dream of you, but you never followed up on if he ever did. You’d do little rituals to make him think of you, forcefully but still.

But never once, did you consider the possibility that Mark’s beginning to qualify as ‘fine shyt’.

“Scratch at the crown.” Mark groans quietly, eyes shut to keep out the shampoo and you comply with a silent ‘uh-huh’, scratching at the crown of his head. Inky strands are messy and soapy, and you drag your nails along his scalp one last time, before you’re reaching for the showerhead, and covering Mark’s eyes with one hand, while the other rinses away the suds.

And he sighs, thumb pressing circles into your thigh and you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the squeak that threatens to spill.

And Mark peers up at you, a perfect brow raising and he hums.

“What’s wrong?”

You know damn well.

“Nothing.” You answer, still chewing on your bottom lip as you rinse his hair. “Just hungry.”

That’s not exactly a lie either.

You’re not too hungry. Well, not hungry enough to be considered hungry but you can eat.

“Big back.” Mark whispers under his breath.

“I’ll drown you.” Your eyes narrow. “Don’t test me.”

You try not to focus on how the scalding waters make his skin flush so prettily, how the light of the bathroom dances on his features and makes the flecks in his iris look golden. And you try not to notice that the smell of him, him and him alone, is mixing with steam and your body wash, and your shampoo.

And you think that having sex with Mark might smell like this.

Heady, sweaty and refreshing. Sweet and musky. Calloused hands pressing your thighs apart, soft lips pressing at your erratic pulse and the way he’d breathe you in like you’re his next lungful of life. The thought makes your skin prickle and you feel an empty ache between your thighs that you’ve never quite felt before.

Your mind drifts to the way his lips would ghost over your ears, the way his biceps would shift to pull you closer, the way a veiny hand would wrap around the base of his swollen, leaky cock, lining him up at your messy cunt before—

“Your heartbeat’s getting fast.” Mark comments. “What’s that about?”

“I’m thinking about holding your head underwater.”

And a smile stretches across your lips.

Under your waters.

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Why do you have so many T-shirts from elections?” Mark questions, rifling through you drawers before settling on one. He pulls it overhead, and you watch the way the muscles of his back flex beneath his skin, and you pull the covers up, over your chest.

And Mark look down at his T-shirt.

“They’re not even all from the same country.” He snorts, muscular legs carrying him over to your bedside before he creeps beneath your blankets, tugging them up to his neck and he presses his face against your shoulder.

Inhaling the scent of your skin, the scent of the sheets he hasn’t been wrapped up in for far too long and he throws an arm over your waist, tugging you into his orbit before pulling you into his chest.

The worn fabric does nothing to tamper with the furnace that Mark’s become, claiming your title as the warm one, and you feel the way he melts against you. Legs entangling with yours, and his nose brushes against the nape of your neck. Calloused fingertips slip beneath the edge of your shirt, tracing along where the ribbed elastic waistband of your shorts cuts into the plush of your hips. Fingers draw patterns on the soft pudge and you turn into a puddle when his lips brush against your pulse.

He's so gentle. Drawing little flowers around your navel, hearts on your lower belly and his fingertips trace along your ribs.

You don’t know how long you’re laying in his arms.

Feeling warm breath fan across the curve of your neck, feeling even warmer fingertips clutch at you like you’re his whole world and for the first time, in a long time, it doesn’t feel like you’re second choice. Not to Eve, not to Amber, not to anyone or anything.

The world quiets down until it’s just you and him. Mingling breaths in the comfort of your bedroom, the soft thud of raindrops hitting the ground, slightly louder when they patter against your windows. And you shift in his grasp, turning to face him instead.

Mark’s heart stutters when your arms wrap around his midsection, your legs following and wrapping around his thighs, your face pressing into the slope of his neck. The ball of your nose is cold, icy almost, he feels the way your lashes flutter as you shut your eyes, and he can hear the steady thrum of your heartbeat.

His hold tightens, chin resting on the crown of your head, feeling the way strands tickle at his face, and Mark inhales. Deep enough until you’re settling in his lungs, fingers clutching at your T-shirt and he curls his body around yours.

And there’s a silence that settles in the room, only interrupted when Mark’s voice breaks it, quiet and so, so very boyish.

“So, are we gonna talk about you peeking through my window, yet?” He whispers teasingly, his hand shifting to the back of your neck where he traces patterns on your nape, the action ticklish enough for you to act on impulse. Tucking your neck, and you peer up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Are we gonna talk about the panties you stole yet?” You bite back, a brow raising and you watch Mark’s lips purse.

“No, we are not.” And he ushers your face back to his neck, his cheeks burning a bright red when e feels your hushed giggles against the sensitive flesh and he breathes out. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m a gaping asshole.” You correct. “Respect my truth.”

And Mark laugh. Loudly, and you hear that breathy little hitch in his voice, peeking up at him to watch the corners of his eyes crinkle, to watch the way pink lips part and reveal pearly teeth and you linger on his canines. Before moving over to his dimples, to the rosy apples of his cheeks and finally, you drink him in as a whole.

Damp raven strands that fall over his forehead in perfect strands, a sharp jaw and you feel the way his muscles flex as he readjusts his grip on you.

“My bad.” Mark huffs out a snort. “My bad for mischaracterizing you. How can I fix it?”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“This isn’t what I meant.” Mark grumbles, muscles flexing with each movement as he continues to fold, and bend different articles of clothing, brows scrunched into a furrow as he organizes your closet.

“Yeah, but it’s what I want.” You respond with a snort. “An besides, you should be comfortable handling my clothing. You know, since you’re like, half-Korean.”

Mark stares at you, watching the way you take another bite of your cookie. His expression is blank, lips falling open in shock at the easiness of what you just said.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Mark’s brows bunch and you can tell he’s not offended, so much as confused and trying not to laugh.

“You know,” You shrug, “Koreans tend to open dry cleaners.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s like… Family Guy, they go to a Korean dry cleaner. In American Dad, when Stan opens a dry cleaners with a bunch of strippers, he complains about the Koreans. It’s a statistic.”

Mark’s lips twitch and he curls them inward, trying to stifle the laugh.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“You folded more than half of my closet in like, 15 minutes. It’s in your DNA. The D stands for—” “If you say dry cleaning, I’m gonna hit you in the mouth.”

And your lips purse.

And you take a slow, and loud bite of your cookie. And he shuts his eyes, letting out an even breath.

“I hate you so much.”

Mark goes back to folding before he lifts one of the shirts. And he gasps. “You dick, you never gave this back.”

“You kinda left me on a building, so you know.” Your lips purse and Mark winces at the memory. Before looking almost sheepishly ashamed, brows scrunching and his lips tug downwards into a frown.

“I’m sorry about that.” Mark murmurs.

“It’s chill, I got a happy meal out of it.”

He tosses the Seance Dog T-shirt at you. Pretty brown eyes focused on the way you catch the fabric like it’s something precious, holding it to your chest.

Mark doesn’t glance away as you turn your back to him, hands reaching for the edge of your shirt and you pull it overhead. He stares at your back, the curve of your spine, the way your waist curves and suddenly, he’s hiding an erection behind a Pinocchio T-shirt, eyes locked on the way your back flexes as you pull the Seance Dog shirt on, and he watches the fabric fall just below your ass. Fleshy globes only obscured by your ridiculously short cotton shorts and Mark swallows.

Gaze flitting up to meet yours.

“Looks g-good.” He nearly sputters, hands fisting the fabric of the top in his lap and your eyes lower to the veins that bulge at his hands and forearms.

“Did Pinocchio’s nose always look like that?” Your brows furrow.

Mark begins to sweat, droplets forming at his neck and disappearing behind the neckline of his shirt.

“Yeah.” Mark lies. “You got this at that 3D shirt place, remember? You wanted his nose 3D so it looks like you could poke kids in the eye.”

And while you can’t remember, that does sound like something you’d say.

And you plop into your bed, wriggling beneath the covers before you peer at Mark, watching his muscles shift as he continues and you sigh at the sight, bottom lip wedged between your teeth. And your lips part to make a quip, most probably something offensive but you’re interrupted by Mark’s phone, buzzing incessantly and you glance towards the screen.

And it’s the superhero equivalent of Hailey Bieber.

Your lips purse at Eve’s contact, eyes narrowing and you’re already shifting in bed, internally readying yourself for a brief ‘gotta go’.

Mark’s shoulders stiffen as he shifts, his body nearly throwing itself across yours as he reaches for his phone, swiping at the red button. And he turns his phone off, crawling beneath the covers alongside you and his body blankets yours. His face nestles in the curve your neck, his arms tuck themselves beneath the small of your back and he holds you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

And right now, it feels like it is.

For the first time, in a long time, Mark feels… Complete.

Complete and very, very hard. Cock straining against his boxers, precum staining the stretched fabric and he takes a deep breath, inhaling the smell of you. God.

“You’re so warm…” Mark whispers against your skin, his body shifting and your gaze flicks up to your ceiling, and you’re gonna bite off your bottom lip at this point. Every hole of your body is clenched, your mind is working overtime to commit every sense you’re feeling to memory.

You swallow hard when you realise Mark’s hips are wedged between your thighs, layers of fabric doing nothing to make him feel less of the heat between you, and Mark presses his lips against your pulse. The ball of his nose brushes against your earlobe, his hips press against yours and you’re feeling all of him and simultaneously not enough.

Mark’s pressing sweet kisses against your neck, a low sound leaving the back of his throat when he feels the way your head tips back, exposing the supple flesh of your throat. And Mark sighs against your skin, dragging his tongue up your jugular before lifting his head, shifting until his face is above yours.

Lashes fluttering and his head dips.

Mark’s lips meet yours in a soft kiss. Uncoordinated, so unpracticed, and so, so hot. Mark’s lips move against yours in the sweetest way, hands pawing at your waist, pulling you closer and he loves the way your thighs press against his waist, soft. Inviting.

And so warm.

He loves the way your fingers sink into his hair, nails dragging and carding through his hair, strands slipping from between your fingers. The covers keep the two of you entangled, and Mark can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be than here.

With you.

In your dimly lit room, while your TV plays as background noise. Unable to drown out your sighs, Mark’s hums and the way your body feels against his. He can feel the way your nipples harden beneath that oversized T-shirt, and with each shift of his chest, he hears that whine you let out.

And he swallows your syrupy sweet whines, your tongue tastes like cookies and he feels the way your thighs tremble at his sides.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Mark breathes out. “Please…” His breaths are so hot, fanning against your neck and his hands shift, grasping at your hips with so much want that the action alone has your panties clinging to your cunt.

He lifts his head, soft eyes focused on the way your cheeks are burning even hotter than his, your lashes fluttering and your legs are following his command, wrapping around his waist and he nearly moans at the feel of your heels digging into his lower back, bringing him closer.

And Mark’s head falls against your shoulder.

His hips roll against yours, messy and so unpracticed. You feel the way his cock presses against you, and you nearly whine.

Swallowing hard when he speaks softly. No... Not speaks.

Begs.

“Can I fuck you?”

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420 ; @verysynical ; @kikiiguess ; @missam ; @luvvfromme ; @luvvcharxo ; @alma-ru3 ; @mxvoid26 ; @urfriendlyfrog ; @the-good-kooshe ; @troublesome-nara ; @secretaccountlol ; @syubseokie; @atanukileaf ; @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere ; @i-love-frensh-fries ; @love3vivian ; @boyofroyo1 ; @tamaranblaze ; @supersecretxreadersideblog ; @etphonehome0623 ; @markgraysonlover ; @icanmeltanigloo ; @itzmeme ; @buckturd

[visenyaism]

Aegon Unworthy Administration Dashboard Simulator

⚔️ whiteswordtowerrr

the gold cloaks found my aegmon rpf guys it might be a while before my next update

💫 maidens-grace Follow

RIP OP this is why RPF is not only problematic (sinful against the Maiden AND the Smith) but will also literally deservedly get your skull put on a spike

⚔️ whiteswordtowerrr

I lived bitch. king aegon made me read it out loud to his brother because he thought it was funny but then he let me go. new chapter dropping in 20 minutes

#the dragonknight got all purple and furious but he did just have to stand there and take it. Just like in this next chapt- #the king did hook up with my sister afterwards though. what can you do

🍒lanadelreyene Follow

listennnnn im not saying he’s perfect im just saying liberating women from religious oppression and literal imprisonment in the maidenvault and letting his girl cousin do the economy and elevating women of all social standings to positions of prominence isnt NOTHING.

🫀tree-hearted

“king aegon is a feminist” “criston cole had hoes” you people will say anything on this website.

🛡️knighttime Follow

just saw that Daemon Waters kid like the king’s four year old bastard do a perfect standing backflip in the training yard. Kind of compelling. Kind of kingly. I don’t know…

#can prince daeron do a flip?????

🐉 rhaenyra-did-nothing-wrong Follow

It’s SO disgusting how the king would hire a H*ghtower hand only 50 years after that wretched family MURDERED HIS GRANDMOTHER AFTER USURPING HER THRONE. #UNWORTHYGATE

🪙 laenycashmoney150

Me and that nasty old man. To be honest

🌈 crystalcrowned Follow

I block everyone who is horny on main about the king on principle because fornication is a sin but op is talking about ALYN OAKENFIST?????? Girl.

🙌 fleabottomtop

Sneaking in through the secret tunnels in the red keep to smuggle queen naerys a vibrator and a blunt this shit is getting out of hand

💐 summersepta Follow

she would not like that. try again.

🙌 fleabottomtop

sneaking in through the secret tunnels in the the red keep to smuggle queen naerys a prayer book and a cigarette

🦇whentch

🐲 rogue-princess Follow

if i speak....🙈🤐

���‍⬛ raventreeballer-deactivated89169

FYI @ brackennation literally seduced the king to use her influence to ban pro-Blackwood posts on here. block and report this treacherous whore ASAP

🐎 brackennation-deactivated47170

I know it’s you missy. KYS jealous cunt

🎻bardalicious Follow

king aegon’s collection of teenage mistresses posting through it on the dash again

🔥 fireandwaters Follow

Sooooo sick of seeing delusional reachers reclaiming dragons**d as if that’s not a literal crownlands-specific slur used against the Valyrian-Westerosi community in King’s Landing and Dragonstone. I don’t care how many ae’s your grandma has in her name you are a HIGHTOWER you are a TARLY you are a REDWYNE you are seven forgive me for even saying this a BEESBURY. Categorically NOT a seed. It’s basically valyrian racefaking at this point

⛓️‍ gaymanpalehair Follow

Say it louder for the Great Bastards in the back!!!!!! theyre literally noble

🔥fireandwaters Follow

No I can say it?? I’m from KL I’m in the community why would it matter if I’m acknowledged

🌼 ever-sweet Follow

Seven hells my great-grandsire literally rode caraxes and I can’t acknowledge my own heritage? Dragonseed literally applies to ANY👏ONE👏of👏TAR👏GARYEN👏DES👏CENT.

🪵 kingswoody

At the rate the king is going everyone in the realm will be able to reclaim dragonseed in 20 years come on now

🐦‍⬛raventreeballer Follow

are we not going to acknowledge the toxic power imbalance of the king having had TWO Bracken mistresses and ONE Blackwood mistress????

🐚besterling Follow

THAT’S the toxic power imbalance you want to talk about??? That one??? Nothing else???

🔮hightowered Follow

okay I thought the valyrian racefaking discourse on here was dumb as shit but tell me WHY i just saw my bastard cousin serena change her name to “serenei” on all her socials and then start telling people she was from lys and can’t speak common.

#Good thing we’re dragonseeds otherwise this would be insane

🐟rainbowtrout Follow

non-riverlanders in 20 years when the Bracken-Blackwood beef becomes everybody’s problem because it’s a Targaryen civil war

🍎 fossoshethey

Quick where's that one meme about the valyrian god of prophecy playing dodgelance with random tumblr users

🎭mummersfarce Follow okay I’ll bite. did king aegon the unworthy fourth of his name do something problematic.

✨ fleabottombottom Follow

well as a dragonseed of dance-era descent i gotta say i am not appreciating how hard it is to buy purple shampoo in flea bottom recently what with the rate at which blonde bitches are being created in this kingdom fucking skyrocketing

🎭mummersfarce Follow

fucked up. blocking him now ✊

[luveline]

Hey lovely, How about Hotch and wife!reader having their first family outing with new baby, a walk in the park or grocery shopping something like that you can pick.

Hope your having a good weekend lovely Xx <3 🌼

ty for your request ily <3 —you and Hotch juggle your small family for the first time. fem, 1.2k

“Please hold my hand?��� 

Having a baby has activated some intrafamily jealousy, but you don’t mind. You’re cooing at Noah adoringly when Jack interrupts, thrusting his hand in the air, the very beginning of a tantrum lining his eyes and his thin eyebrows pinched like a threat. 

“Baby, don’t you wanna come and sit up here with Noah?” you ask. There’s not much room next to the carrier, but Jack's slight. 

He shakes his head, hand poking your tummy. Grocery shopping with Jack has always been hard, he wants to look at everything, wants to take the list, and doesn’t ever wanna sit in the cart, but it’s proving harder today. 

“Aaron, you have to push the cart.” 

He’s been begging you to let him for the last half hour. “It’s gonna tire me out,” he says, nudging you aside by the hip, “but I think I can handle it for you. You did call me by my first name for once. We reward good behaviour in this family.” 

You roll your eyes and take Jack’s little hand. Calling him Aaron now you’ve had a baby together should feel natural, but it doesn’t. It feels more like a loving nickname than his actual name —over two years of calling him Hotch is hard to ignore. 

Jack gives you a loving look that makes the fuss worth it. “This is fun,” he says. 

“This is awesome.” 

You and Jack got used to doing grocery shopping by yourselves while you were on your maternity leave without his dad. With Hotch now on his own paternity leave to accompany you, it is admittedly easier, and much more fun. You and Jack swing your hands together as Hotch steers the cart and your baby into the cereal aisle, which’ll take hours to get through, no doubt, but it doesn’t matter. What else is there to do? 

You make it Hotch’s job to say no to the boxes that are mostly sugar, and, unfortunately for Jack, get distracted by Noah in his baby carrier where it’s locked into the cart. His eyes reluctant to open, tired, dark lashes threaded together at their corners, his tiny mouth. “Aw, look at you, handsome, you’re nearly smiling. You look just like your daddy, he never wants to smile either,” you say, tapping his nose. 

Your saccharine tone prompts distress. “Y/N,” Jack whines, “you need to help me choose the cereal.” He yanks at your hand. 

“Jack, don’t start, bud.” 

“Dad,” Jack pouts. 

“No, it’s okay. We’re supposed to be sharing everybody now, so Jack gets to share me too. I’ll help you pick some cereal. I don’t mind,” you say. 

You sort of do mind, just a bit. This is Noah’s first time out in the world that wasn’t sitting peacefully in the backyard, and you don’t want him to be scared. Maybe baby’s can’t be scared, you don’t know. It’s nicer to feel close to him in these big moments. But it’s Jack’s first time having a baby brother at the store, too, so you’ll have to make it work. 

“You don’t have to,” Hotch says. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You bend down to see the cereal selection. “They have your favourite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And your second, Fruity Pebbles. It’s up to you, it’s your treat.” 

Jack gasps and hits a box of Fruity Pebbles, “Barney’s on the box now!” he says, pointing at the blonde character behind the cereal bowl. 

You give a soft laugh quickly lost as Jack’s force topples the box. It hits the floor with a light crunch. “Oh, whoops. Let’s pick this up,” you say, popping down into a crouch without thinking. 

“Honey–” Hotch says, which would surely be followed by a Should you be doing that? if you weren’t already flopping onto one knee in pain. 

Bad idea. Terrible idea. Having a baby tears a mixture of tissue and muscle, and while the fiery pain of labour has since become a bad memory, a spike of trauma erupts between your legs. “Ow,” you yelp, eyes welling with unbidden tears. 

“Y/N!” Jack and Hotch say simultaneously. 

“Are you alright?” Hotch asks, bending at the waist to grab you, never cruel but clearly perturbed as his hands grasp your shoulders. They slip down under your arms. “Come on, can you stand up?”

You blink away tears and force yourself to stand with his help. He’s quick to pull you close, one hand on your wrist, head ducked to see your face. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

You let out a queasy breath. “Something’s not done fixing itself,” you joke weakly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks again, lower. 

“I’m fine.” You’d love to sit down. The pain is a thrum like your heartbeat now, hurting but half as intense. “I’m okay. Really, it just shocked me.” 

He slips his arm around your neck to encourage you in for a temple kiss. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You wiggle out of Hotch’s hold. Jack stands with a large pout near the fallen box of cereal, his hands twisting together over his tummy. “It’s okay,” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, panicked tears slipping down his cheeks. “You hurt getting it and it was mine, I’m sorry.” His voice squeezes out of him in guilty pangs. 

“It’s okay!” you repeat, leaning over with a wince to offer your arms, “It’s really okay, it’s not your fault. Don’t be upset, baby, I’m fine.” 

You hoist Jack into your arms as he begins crying in earnest. His crying startles Noah, who starts to whimper, and then sob despite Hotch’s gentle shushing. You look at one another in mild defeat, your hand cupping the back of Jack’s head as he clings to you for reassurance. 

Noah’s sobbing is like a ringing bell. Jack says he’s sorry into your neck, and it’s such a desperate scene you let a laugh slip out. “Aw, baby,” you say, smiling as you press your nose to his cheek, “it’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault at all, it was just ‘cos I’m out of practice. I’m just tired.” 

“You fell.” 

Noah gurgles behind you. “I know,” Hotch says quietly. “I know. You’re okay, bud. Jack’s okay. Mom’s okay. Shh, shh.” 

It’s obviously not how you’d want your shopping trip to go, but Jack’s crying eventually slows, sapping all of his energy, and so he finally agrees to sit in the cart. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit there as well as you’d thought he would. Hotch ends up carrying him the entire time you’re in the store, and Noah doesn’t ever settle. You’re like zombies when you get back to the car, a headache stark between your ears and evident in his pinched brow. 

“Let’s try again in a few weeks,” Hotch suggests. “I can go by myself. Or we can make somebody else.”  

You wish you had the energy to kiss his brow, giving a defeated nod as you slouch down into your seat, grateful at least for his hand on your knee. “Okay.” 

[onlyyvette]

Hello! Could I request a short fic with TFP Bumblebee being lovingly dommed by the reader with elements of sounding (if it’s okay) and spit kinks, along with edging? I haven’t seen anyone write for sounding yet so I eagerly await for your writing! -🌼

Lovingly Held

Warnings: sub/bottom Bumblebee + Dom/top reader + gn reader + cybertronian reader + soft dom reader + praise kink + sounding + edging + bumblebee is adorable + and super desperate

Word Count: 696

A/N: Aaa my first TF request♡♡♡ Sorry but I wasn't able to include the spit kink</3 Idk why but my mind literally could not figure out how to include it in this fic without it seeming out of place so I hope it's still fine with you<//3

Also, new anon???

"Bee," you whispered into the yellow mech audials. He let out a pathetic whine at the sound of you calling his name. You held Bumblebee in your lap, his back resting against your chassis. One of your servos hold Bee's hip while the other is tugging at his spike. "I hope you're ready." Bee let's out short beeps to show you how impatient he is, his big blue optics staring at you desperately.

You chuckled a bit before removing your hand from his hip and reaching for the sounding rod you had saved for this occasion. It was of average size, not too thick as Bee was only a beginner and you didn't want to overwhelm him. You grip his spike tightly causing him to let out a surprised sound. "Relax for me Bee," you sigh. Bumblebee didn't even realize how much he had tensed up the moment the rod had come near his spike. His doorwings shiver a bit as he finally calms down and stills his body

"Good bot," you praised him as you begun to slick up the rod, not missing the small beep Bee made from the praise. "Now hold as still as you can for me now..." You slowly pushed the rod in and surely, Bumblebee started to writhe, letting out rapid beeps. His faceplate was now clearly flushed with energon and his optics were scrunching up. He hadn't yet used his safeword(more like action) so you continued, although going a bit slower.

"Your doing so good for me Bee. Now take it like the good bot you are." Your soothing voice filled Bumblebee's audials and processor as thoughts of being good for you muddled his mind until he finally felt the rod seat itself in Bumblebee's spike completely. He whined and pawed at his spike, unused to the odd intrusion.

"No Bee, if you want it out, you know how to tell me," you chastised as you swatted Bumblebee's servo away. His whole frame was trembling now as he felt a dull yet pleasurable ache in his spike. Just as Bee was starting to get anxious for you to move the rod, you finally gripped the rod as you pulled it up and down Bee's spike firmly.

Bee thrashed in our grip, letting out loud whines and beeps, his vocalizer clicking as it failed to form words. His back arched as his doorwings were pressed further into your chassis. You continued your ministrations, moving the rod in Bee's spike at a timed pace. He gripped your arm and leaned his helm into the crook of your neck, getting close to his overload. Right when he was about to seize up and overload around the rod, you swiftly pulled it out.

Bee's pretty blue optics cycled wide as he let out a distraught series of beeps. He shook his head and tried his best to guide your servo back to his spike but you pulled back. "You're not gonna overload until I tell you to. Can you do that for me please?" Despite the soft tone of your voice and the fact that you added please, Bee knew that it was a demand that had to be followed.

Shaking, Bee lowered his servos to his side and spread his legs open a little wider. "Good bot," you smiled, lining up the rod to his spike. "If you can hold off on your overload, I might let you have an overload. Sound good with you?" you asked at the same time you plunged the rod deep into Bee's spike.

His frame seized up as he let out long whines. He nodded frantically, his hips bucking up into the feeling of the rod stimulating the nodes in his spike. Unknowingly, Bee's valve panel also retracted, strings of lubricant dripping on the floor, creating a small puddle. You decided to ignore his valve and focus on his spike instead. Bee unconsciously grinded his valve into the cool floor, letting out small hiccups. He may actually get a valve overload before you give him permission but for now, you let it be. Surely he deserves his reward after being so good for for you.

[things-of-fire]

The Power of Sky 🌩️🌼

Harpy is a SkyWing animus who’s part of a future AU I made a while back. This art is a little old, but I think it holds up. I’ve been thinking about this AU more lately and I’ll probably come back to it.

In short, Harpy discovered their powers when they were a dragonet. Not knowing that magic was banned in the Sky kingdom, they excitedly showed it off by enchanting a field of flowers to bloom. They were sentenced to death the very same day. However, a NightWing dragonet born beneath blood moons had a vision of Harpy’s death and convinced her tribe’s prince to go save them. Harpy grew up in the rainforest alongside the NightWings and RainWings. Eventually, they become a key player in a continental war.

The NightWing dragonet who saw Harpy’s death has had a few names, including Bloodmoon and Warteller. I’d like to give her something different—maybe Omen? Sanguine? Who knows! She and Harpy have a tense relationship, made worse by the fact that they’re pining for each other. The NightWing feels responsible for putting Harpy in a difficult situation, while Harpy struggles to be loyal to anyone in the face of war.

[ID: A digital illustration of the creator’s Wings of Fire OC, a SkyWing named Harpy. They are a wyvern who has deep scarlet-orange scales with darker orange accents and a lighter underbelly. Their wings and the spikes on their neck and tail are a deep maroon. Harpy wears a black cloak lined with dark iridescent feathers, as well as a simple moonstone necklace and gold earring. Their piercing yellow eyes match a glowing flower that hovers between their talons. Harpy is floating in a background of abstract purple clouds. Three circles resembling dark moons frame Harpy’s head. They’re staring determinedly to the left, as if deep in thought. End ID]

[sleepoverzine]

💫 90s Anime 🌙 Sleepover Zine ✨ Preview 🪐 ⛅️

The next previews is of @fala-alfredo-pasta ! Take a good nap in good company, featuring Spike, Edward, Faye, and Jet from Cowboy Bebop!

🍒 PRE-ORDERS OPEN JAN 15-FEB 15👽✌️

🌼Get yours today!🌈

🌟Store

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

claimed signs offs:

-🫖

-☔

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-inno🩷✨️

-🎠📼

-❄️💉

-🐟💥 -🎩👁️📕

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Prompt “she says we bicker like an old married couple” for Tony Stark, please? But maybe they actually are a married couple heheheheheh? All up to ya tho

We bicker like an old married couple

Warning: 18+ there’s some magic brownies involved. Fluff.

.

“That’s funny.”

You wondered out loud, chewing on the third piece of a delicious peanut butter brownie batch your best friend had sent over for you.

“Huh?”

Tony raised his head from where it had been resting, which was your shoulder, narrowing his eyes as you let out an audible sigh.

“I said, that is funny. Geez are you really getting that old?”

“Did you just call me old, Y/N Y/L/N?” Tony gave you a light push, wiping off invisible crumbs from his lap after sitting up.

Between you two, you had finished the brownies mere minutes after they had been delivered to you as an anniversary gift. Everything pretty much had slowed down as you munched on the sweet treats. Your friend had only forgotten to mention they were spiked with special ingredients, now you were starting to think it was on purpose.

It wasn’t often that you got a chance to really let loose, so when the opportunity presented itself, you cooked him a great meal, cracked open a bottle of his favourite wine and were about to dig in when the little present arrived. And according to Tony, he wanted to change things up by having dessert first which led to this.

Tony was knelt between your legs, splaying his hands on your thighs as his brown eyes, now dilated, implored yours as he waited for an answer. You giggled and let out a small snort that you couldn’t control, carding your fingers through his hair which had several greys peaking through. His question practically answering itself.

“Honey, let’s not go there.”

“You’re mean.” He stuck out his tongue, grumbling as he snatched your family sized bag of Dorito’s away from you.

“Tony! Give it back! I’m hungry.” You whined, completely forgetting that there was a full dinner waiting on the dinner table.

“Nope. Not unless you say sorry.”

“For stating the truth? Not in hell.” You scoffed, giving him a little push that was enough to make him topple back on his bum.

The movement kinda slowed down your vision, making you grab onto the back of the couch. Tony was quick on his feet to tackle you down on it once again, not relenting as you protested, little giggles escaping you that you simply couldn’t control.

“Stop laughing!” He grumbled.

“You’re such a little baby! It’s cute.”

“Oh my God. I hate you.”

“You know what my best friend says?” You blinked up at the man who had pinned you underneath him, distracting him enough for him to loosen his grip.

“What?”

“She says we bicker like an old married couple.” You laughed and Tony joined in, touching his forehead to yours before his fingers weaved their way through yours. He held it up for you to see the platinum wedding bands you had exchanged three years ago. Needless to say, you two collapsed into fits of laughter after that.

.

🌼 Slutty Spring Sleepover 🌼

[woodlandscab1n]

Ive been fronting for sooo long bro its crazy,, I hope that Reko comes back soon since I'm worried that he's almost, nowhere close to genuinely fronting. Usually he's able to influence or speak but nah, he's just not there. I know he's still aware of this, buuut other than that he's gone. Idk if when I unfront its gonna retrain most of my memories here, we'll have to see.

Reko had an auchie moment w psychosis and had to be trapped in its subsystem so it couldn't hurt the body. Reagan's taking care of it, so no worries. She's pretty much the only one who can calm down Reko when he's like this I think.

[backgroundponylove]

Hi! Dunno if ur still accepting requests but, if you are then could we get JuneBug?

🪲🌼 JuneBug! A pony seen drinking from a fountain before being asked/told to give a birthday present to Spike…by Spike!

[jess--posting]

(rules and other info under the cut, last updated 10/27/24) (interacts from @kirbytripledeluxe)

unless this blog is LABELED as inactive, its still active and accepting asks. hi!

IMPORTANT NOTES 🌿

^^ heres their ref. anyway

there are now technically four characters on this blog (even if i dont exist in pikposting) so the tagging system may be a bit confusing! stuff may get mixed up! heres a quick guide including how i color code their posts:

🍄: jess, they/them, 25

🐟: me! toast or kirby, per/it, 18

🌼: oatchi, he/him, idk!! (was for an april fools prank LMAO i dont think hes staying here)

💮: hope or beep, she/her, not even one years old

ive beaten pikmin 4 as of 4/26/24!!! spoilers are fine!

inactivity spikes may happen due to plurality, disability, and ,, my generally exhausting existence. sorry about that!! as a side note if i overstep or act weird or flood the tags TELL ME.

jess is NOT a sona or a self-insert, just my avatar in pik4, though i do project onto them quite a bit 👍

RULES 🌿

1. obviously no nsfw. while jess is an adult and technically allowed to do that, not only are they asexual but im not at all comfortable with nsfw of my ocs unless were close and very explicit permission is given. and... yeah no i dont give permission for them. suggestive jokes are fine as long as theyre not directed AT them.

2. please dont get me involved in em/eto topics . i have a severe phobia of that

3. other rookies are completely fine to interact!

4. if i slip and misgender jess (i sometimes accidentally use she/her) let me know please!!! ill do the same! though do still note that jess is a trans girl, not nonbinary. pronouns≠gender but i understand the confusion

5. please no alcohol/drug abuse stuff outside of jokes (i.e. the scary weed), other characters using it is fine

6. ask before doing wizard/magic anon stuff ok ? (assuming were already in contact, if were not then dont worry about it)

TAGS 🌿

ic 🍄/🌼/💮: posts by a character

ic answer 🍄/🌼/💮: answered asks by a character

putting them in situations 🍄: rp (←feel free to mute, i use the long post tag once they start getting long but i have a list of the finished ones at the end of this anyway)

jess images 🍄: self explanatory, often reblogs from my art account! i love drawing them!

about jess 🍄: info i share sometimes

ooc 🐟: posts by me

ooc answer 🐟: answers by me

and if you need anything trigger tagged tell me! ill tag it as "tw ___" (flashing lights will just be tagged as "flashing lights")

RP LIST 🌿

3/21/24-3/23/24 🍄 — puddle going through it

3/23/24 🍄 — taking amalgam home

3/24/24-3/26/24 🍄 — lumiknoll moment

3/31/24 🍄 — super mario shaky tower hell

4/22/24 💮 — cherry brings hope and oatchi back to the base!

5/14/24-5/16/24 🍄 — (MAJOR WARNING FOR BODY HORROR + GORE) great job everyone we killed jess

6/6/24-6/14/24 💮 — hope and yonny and kingsly and oatchis great adventure

6/14/24 🍄 — hi jess :) ←pretending it hasnt been over 2 months

6/17/24-6/18/24 🍄 — THE GUILT IS NEVERENDING🔥🔥🔥

OTHER BLOGS 🌿

@heroleaf-posting

@pond-blogging

@groovylonglegs-blogging

@eyewraith-posting

@fritz-posting

[lauratheghost]

My whole town is covered in a layer of ice 😭 even with shoe-spikes on, it's almost impossible to walk anywhere rn lol.

I am ready for spring. 🌼🌿🌱🔆

[rabbits-foot-reqs]

hi! may we request a headmate based on little fang by avey tares slasher flicks?

specific things: bodily native american so please native, werewolf? wolf therian? something wolfy, the song is very blue so something blue?, nonbinary of some genre, age somewhere around 16-20?

thank you!

This was fun to do!! Thanks for requesting!!

✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺

Name(s): Fang, Cosmos, Star, Melody, Wilder, Wilde, Luna, Spike, Conner, Drew, Astro, Mars, Aster, Bandit, Harper

Age: 16-20

Pronouns: She/They, Hx/Hxm, H*/H*m, Wolf/Wolf's, Fang/Fangs, Mutt/Mutts, Howl/Howls, Paw/Paws, Fu/Fur/Furs, Sun/Suns, Moon/Moons

Gender(s): nonbinary, wolfgender, wolferestic, transwerewolf

Sexuality: aromantic…?, omniromantic, mutt lesbian, werewolf lesboy, wolf4wolf, Musitism

Species: werewolf + human

Race: Native American 

Roles: Dear, Delight, DNI Holder, Emotional Protector, Music Archivist 

Likes/interests: reading, nature, long car rides, fangs friends, hiking, rom-coms, astronomy/astrology, Over The Garden Wall, Gravity Falls, baked goods/baking, singing, tattoos/piercings, cheesy horror movies, ect.

Dislikes: judgment, unwanted criticism, back-stabbers, discourse of any kind, too-serious situations/people, arguments/confrontation, accusations/rumors, snakes (animal), torture in horror, ect.

Boundaries: no fakeclaiming, no discourse of any kind, no invasive questions, no going through h*s stuff without permission

Fav/Associated song: Little Fang - Avery Tare's Slasher Flicks

Sign-off: 🌘🌼🐺

Faceclaim: 

(Couldn't decide on a brown or black wolf so both it is!)

Made by: mod 🖖🏽

✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺

[the-possum-writes]

HCs for Flora? (Genderswapped Fern from classic F&C)

General Flora Headcanons 🌼🌵🐍

❥Character: Flora Mertens (Genderbend Fern)

❥Fandom: Adventure Time with Fionna and Cake

❥Tags: Headcanons, general characterization

❥Taglist: @foxpearlwilder

❥If it wasn't because she's a grown woman Fionna would had her carry a "I bite" warning sign.

❥Cake sometimes teaches her indoor activities to relax, like knitting or sewing quilts but Flora soon lost the patience for it. She'd pick it up occasionally just because Cake took the time teach her.

❥While she has an older sister respect for Cake, as in Flo doesn't give her sassy remarks and usually obeys whenever she asks her to do something- the relationship she has with Fionna is more younger sibling like.

❥Don't get me wrong they do get along, but she doesn't respect her stuff or her space. She steals Fionna's hairbrush when she can't find her own, wears her socks even though she stretches them with her pointy feet and drinks (absorbs?) Fi's soda pop.

❥Fionna has told her before to leave her stuff alone, Flora said she will but wouldn't follow through and Fionna now has to hide stuff from her.

❥Her favorite video games on Beemo would probably be the rouge likes, mostly cause they're fast and repetitive. But she also likes farming simulator games.

❥While Fern's second weapon is an axe, Flora's would most likely be daggers/throwing knives and has deadly good aim.

❥Also she uses them for her eyeliner.

❥Has a tomboyish attitude just like Fi, where they differentiate is that while she's strong willed Flora is also immature at times since she didn't go through the experiences that made her grow, she tends to lash out as a defensive mechanism whenever she feels vulnerable in any situation.

❥More self aware of her appearance than her male counterpart, has the subconscious need to be the hottest person in the supermarket. (Not as exaggerating as Lsp though, it's a bit more subtle)

❥Would trim the grass on her legs to make it less noticeable.

❥While Fern grows mushrooms on the top of his head I like to think Flora would sprout succulent flowers.

❥Her aesthetic in general leans more to desert plants and flowers where Fern is more cold forest themed, I like the idea mainly because it would give her own thing and separates her from Fern rather than copy and paste his characteristics to her- so for example she'd grow cactus like needle spikes in her arm when she wants a punch to hurt.

❥Would probably take care of smaller cacti at the top of the tree fort, they're low maintenance and she doesn't have to worry about them drying out so soon.

[bolts-n-fingerguns]

Name's Reko, this is my blog of pure fictionkind insanity. Yeah, not an RP blog. Drawing above made by me, based on this.

Last edited: 28/05/2024

📖✏️・⌒ヾ(￣ -￣ )) About ．．．

I'm trans agender, plural and an adult. AUDHD and dyslexia. Nonhuman. I use we/i interchangeably.

My icon was edited , the flag is the werewolf therian flag by @/otherkinotd, remake by me.

My main alth blog is @nyctohyloph0bia .

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ Fictionmere ．．．

🎬 Fictotypes

［RE］Leon ― Slightly canon divergent. Is genderfluid/queer, bisexual, any pronouns. How I look like: x . Full neomata: pending.

［STH］Spikes ― AU, very canon divergent. Named Sonic, called Spikes by everyone. Is a trans man, achillean, aroace , he/him. How I look like: x . Full neomata: pending.

🎭 Fictionflickers

［RE］Vex ― AU Leon , pretty common. Fucked up looking werewolf.

🔗 Linktypes

［TRI98］Vash ― Not very common. Canon compliant.

📖 Heart-tales

White Fang , 1906

Sonic Unleashed , 2008

⏳ Questioning

[D20: NA] Ylfa Snoglenson

(*>O<)📢꙳⟡ BYI ．．．

I'm coolio with doubles and encourage interaction! However, Exe sοnics please interact with caution! 👍

Adα Wοngkin, fictives and fans don't interact for our safety. She's a huge trigger. Generally anyone with her on a pfp or on your blog name, sorry.

ϵggmαnkin or fictives interact with caution. If you're from boom, you're chill. 👍 Sometimes I put up images on my posts that might look like I'm roleplaying, I am not, lol. I just like adding them bc it makes me happy :3

Don't tag my art or posts about fictionmere with main fandom tags (ex. #residϵnt ϵvil , sοnic the hedgehοg, #sτh , #rϵ), main fanart tags (ex. trigυn fαnart) or main ship tags (ex. #sonαdow). The fandom scares me.

Don't tag my art or posts with self-ship tags. That'd be like calling me your S/O by directly rebbloging my post about myself, and that makes me uncomfortable.

Don't act like you know me. You know what happened in canon, but you don't know me.

✍(◕◡◕) Tags ．．．

💌 Fictionmere tags

#🌼🍃 ― sοnic's tag #🌻🥞 ― leοn's tag

#🪓🐺 ― Ylfα's tag #💡🐺 ― vex's tag #🔗👼 ― vαsh's tag #💘🩹 ― shade's tag #💘🧸 ― clαire's tag

📜 Post tags

#Haze's artwork ― my art. #Haze's chatter ― I am SPEAKING!! #neomata ramblings ― me rambling about stuff that happened in source or fictotypes. #exotrauma rant ― rant or vents of awful events from source and/or how I feel about them. #🌲 ― nonhuman tag

📫 Reblog tags

#art museum ― not my art. #abyss speaks ― not my posts. #🌴 ― spikes' source or related. #💾 ― leοn's source or related.