#spiny skirt

[bookmothic-dyke]

Dumb weapon idea: blade skirt.

Skirt go spin, enemy go bleed.

#bayblades

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

Do I need more clothes? No, probably not.

But I've got all these squares now. And I did math and adjusted my skirt pattern. And the bodice pieces are already cut out.

And, and... I would have to turn these into an actual quilt if I don't, and I'm pretty much out of materials to do that.

[polygonal-chaos]

I got a skirt finally

I’m so happy

:3

[alien-magnolia]

I Need Someone Older

Fic description: Dean finds you on a hunt and takes you along to get you safely out of danger, fun ensues :) as the two of you feel an inevitable pull of attraction towards each other.

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tw: AGE GAP! Hyper-feminine reader in early 20’s, Dean in late 40’s, daddy issues <3, dom-coded dean, sub-coded reader, bj, breeding kink!, extremely subby-coded reader, helplessness, praise!!!

Word count: 3.1k

Don’t like, don’t read!!

May 5, 2007

7:40 pm

Your white knee high socks were getting a little dusty from the dirt on the woodsy soil. You came out here to write your poetry, desiring a place for peaceful solitude, and perhaps some creative inspiration. You dusted off your skirt as you sat down on the moist bed of grass. The waning moon was a bit yellow tonight, yet you thought nothing off it. You began to write a few words in your floral notebook, with some neat handwriting and a gel pen.

All of a sudden, you hear a wail in the distance. The wind is cold. A few leaves rustle out a few feet away from you, causing you to stare into the dark pathway on your left, in which many trees loitered. You felt as if you were being watched. You continue with your writing, until again you hear a rustle, this time, a bit closer than before. A chill goes down your spine, and you slowly turn to see a pair of yellow eyes, a figure with long, sharp, claws, and a tall, curved, spiny, skinny, body, with a tail. It snarls, coming closer to you. You drop your notebook, and crawl backwards, the dirt making indents on your palms. You hear a few male voices, and see boots running to attack the creature.

You see a flame, the creature is light ablaze, and you pass out from fear. The last thing you remember is strong arms lifting you up, the smell of beer and cherry pie clouds your nostrils.

You wake up in the wood again, this time, the brighr and warm morning light shines down on your skin, littered with cuts and bruises. You seemed to have lost your favorite lipgloss in the process.

“Where am I? My head…,” you whine, seeing a handsome man next to you, bandaging your cuts and cleaning them. That cheered you up a bit. You wince as his calloused hands rub alcohol on your wound, and you meet his eyes. He had green eyes, dark hair, wore a flannel and jeans and had the most amazing body <3 he looked just, so big, compared to you!

You ask him his name and what happened. “The name’s Dean, sweetheart. My brother and I were in these woods looking for a wendigo. We sure as hell did find one.” You nod, still reeling from the attack last night. “Did that… person, thing, do that to me?,” you ask, eyes wide, a bit nervous. “It’s no person, honey,” he chuckles darkly. “Hate to break it to you, but monsters are real. The whole gang. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, all other things that go bump in the night. All are real.” You sit in shock as he continues to fix your wounds. You notice how good his calloused (gunpowder covered) fingers feel on your calves. You wince as he brushes over a wound, jerking your leg back.

“Too rough?,” he asks, a large hand resting on your thigh. You nod. “S’alright. I’ll be more gentle, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, feeling satisfied as the older man returns your smile.

“Hey. Might’ve caught trail of another wendigo up ahead. We should get going,” another man dressed in similar fashion walks up ahead, talking to Dean, taking a glance at you. “What's the hold up, Dean?,” he asks.

“Shut it, Sammy. Can’t you see I’m doing something here? Found her at the site where the thing was. Had to fix her up.” Sam nods, as Dean tells him your name. The two then agree to further go hunt for the second wendigo. “What about her? We’re deep in the woods now, sure as hell she ain’t going to go back on her own, Sammy.” “Fine. Take her with you, as long as she doesn’t cause a problem.”

So it was. You were now going to hunt for the wendigo with the Winchester brothers. The dirt and thick jagged branches sometimes were too much for your legs to handle, so you held onto Dean for some of the walk. He didnt seem to mind, and only smirked as you accidentally leaned too much into him, your soft chest grazing his wide and big arms.

“Stay here, stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean commands you, and you do as said, wait as the boys go into the dark cave. An hour later — there was fire, shrieking, and the boys come out unscathed. The last wendigo has been killed, and the three of you make your way back to “baby,” which you later learned was Dean’s nickname for his ‘67 Impala.

Dean drove with Sam in the front, you in the back seat. You dozed in and out of consciousness as the engine lulled you toward the heavy tug of sleep, you overheard the two men speaking about you.

“Well, Dean she has no ID on her so it’s better off that we take her to the local sheriff’s station. We know Jody, she might be able to help,” Sam inquired. “Yeah, well Sammy, you know what, Jody’s probably just going to tell her to go back to the woods or some shit. Maybe she’s far from home. Maybe she was hiding. Who the hell knows? Bet she’d tell us first before talking to law enforcement,” Dean countered.

“Why is it always you and women, Dean? She’s so young too. Maybe a little too young for you?”

“Shut it, Sammy. Respect her. She probably has her reasons. She’s real pretty and I’ll get what I want, eventually,” Dean retorted. Sam sighed.

You drifted back into sleep but squeezed your thighs together at the thought of the older man using you and getting what “he wants.”

You were more than happy to give it to him.

You were in a dingy 1970’s era hotel room, with dark brown shag carpet, rickety beds with neon orange polyester sheets, and a single lamp in the corner, flickering on occasion. No tv, but a rotary phone and radio. Sam was on a chunky laptop that whined and whistled due to all the power his research into Wendigos was taking up. You believed he was on a library forum of some sort. You sat on the bed, dwindling with the phone cord. The low buzz of the fan was heard from the corner.

Dean comes up to you. “Heya, kid. I’m gonna go get some grub. Wanna come with?,” he asks, offering you a hand to help you up from the bed. You nod, smiling, and taking his hand. Dean opted to go to a local bar to get some takeout. He ordered a large burger, large pilsner beer, and a cherry pie. You got some chicken and French fries, sharing some pie with him. You tell him that you were in the woods to write poetry, you got lost and then time seemed to go. Your cell was dead too. He told you about his ‘job’ with his brother Sam, choosing to follow his dad John Winchester’s legacy of hunting down things that go bump in the night. He made you laugh, asking you about your writing, your college education, a life that someone like him never had.

“We’re so different, you and I, know that? Seriously. I mean, college? In my dreams. Wondering what that’s like,” he said to you, while taking a sip of his beer.

“What can I say. I want a decent life for myself, sometimes. I have a pull towards the arts. Literature, actually. Sometimes though, I just want to be on my own. Without the pressures of society, on the road, like you two. Bet you don’t have any deadlines to meet,” you jokingly admit to Dean.

He chuckles, but then nods, a more serious expression growing on his face now, taking another sip of his beer. “Life sucks, kid. Sucks for me and Sammy, we’re out on the road, might die the next day. Never know what the fuck’s chasing after us,” he has a bit of a solemn expression, taking another sip of his beer.

You nodded, understanding him, seeing through the “tough guy” facade that he’s put up. He was scared. He needed someone to comfort him, to support him. His brother was his partner, yet that wasn’t the partner he was looking for.

You reach over to put your dainty hand on his large one. “Thanks for dinner, really. We should save some for Sam, though, I think,” you giggle, watching a grown man blush over your gentle touch. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. Anytime…,” he trails off, his blush seemed to get stronger and he was avoiding eye contact a bit.

“You okay?,” you ask, meeting his eyes, feeling something start to heat up between the two of you, the air suddenly was heavy. “You’re just, well, pretty, kid. Seriously. Real fuckin’ nice, sweets,” he chuckles, his large fingers coming to intertwine with yours. You almost faint under the pressure of his hand on yours, your eyes drift to his muscular and wide frame, his tattered Jean jacket, his necklace on a black piece of string, his chiseled jawline. As funny as he was, you knew that you had an undeniable attraction towards him.

He saved you from the wendigo, but you let him. You let him take you back to the motel with Sam. You let him have you stay with them. Now. You’d let him have your body. All of it.

“Maybe we can go into those woods again? I can show you some poems?,” you reel, watching the older man’s eyes light up with a burning flame. “Sure, thing, kid. I’ll take you up there in ‘baby.’

With a few stares and leers from the other inhabitants of the shady bar, Dean leads you by the waist out the door, and into his impala, opening the door for you, of course.

“Ladies first,” he bows down a bit as he holds the shabby car door open for you. You take his helping hand and slide into the shotgun (front) seat. He quickly runs over to the driver’s side, a toothpick in his mouth as he climbs in, adjusting the jagged rearview mirror. You struggled to buckle up in the old model of a car, so Dean helped out, buckling it for you. You liked the many things he seemed to do for you. His care. His help.

He pulls out of the diner driveway, one of his ringed hands on the wheel, another tracing gentle patterns all over your thigh. You adjust your socks as his patterns make you heat up — inside and out. “I know a place. You down? If not I’m fine with it, sweet thing. No pressure, s’all,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. You blush. “It’s alright, Dean. I’ll show you my poems. I’ll show you something else too, I think you’ll like it,” you cover your smile as you let out a few small giggles. He smirks back at you.

“Oh I’ll like it, alright. God damn,” he stifles, his strong, calloused fingers gripping a bit harder on your soft thigh. The rest of the drive was tense, just how you liked it. Soft rock — ‘Blue Oyster Cult’s’ “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, and it would usually lull you to sleep. Not tonight. Your heart raced, stealing glances at the man next to you. The man about to take your virginity, what concept you or society made of it. You hoped he didn’t mind.

The impala pulled into a motel parking lot: the same one where you left from. “Dean. Your brother..won’t he..?, you ask, and he quickly interrupts. “Well just be in a different room, is all. Sammy wouldn’t care anyway, as much as I’d like him to. He takes your hand again, leading you to Room 22, on the second floor. Your fingers trace the grimy balcony railing as you head up there.

The door shuts. You smile at him, then look down at your feet. “Can I, um. Kiss you, Dean?,” you ask, shy and sweet, a delicious pie on the shelf, a cherry blossom that smells and tastes so sweet, intoxicating the older man closer and closer to you. “F’course. You’ve never done this before, have you?” You nod. “Let me take the lead, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle. Scout’s honor,” he smiles, holding up two fingers. You nod, wrapping your small arms around his broad chest. Your soft chest pressed against his, you feel the cool metal of his pentagram necklace press against your warm, beating heart.

His large arms trail down to squeeze your waist a bit, and then rub circles down below, your waist and hips. He gave them a tight squeeze, you gasped at his strength. His fingers continued ministrations on your waist, hips, thighs, and the two of your lips danced in a slow and sensual rhythm. You could taste the beer and cherry pie on him, and you ran your fingers through his coarse hair.

His thumb rubs your cheek a bit, and he picks you up in his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down under him. His face above you, his brown eyes in awe taking in your sweet skin, putting him in a trance. His calloused hands run down your arms, your belly, gentle, soft, and slow. He grabs your chin, pulling your face towards his, and meets you for a chaste kiss, slow, you felt the stubble on his cheek and smiled into his lips.

His hand runs through your hair, over your cheek, this thumb caressing your face a bit. You keep the kiss going, you feel him getting rougher, hungrier for you. Your hands touch his broad chest, trailing on the hem of his shirt, which you take off. His chest was bare, just with a tiny bit of hair, and a very prominent happy trail <3 of which you run your fingers through.

His hands lead your hips up against the wall, tracing patterns on your back. Your lips are hungry for each others, you push your chest into his. “Fuck, sweet thing. Gonna drive me up the wall here, Jesus,” his voice now an octave deeper, raspier, breathless. His cherry pink swollen lips meet yours again, you feel his aftershave on your face. Your thighs rub against his growing bulge, positioning your legs so his thickening tent on his jeans was pressed up snug, right into your growing wetness in between your legs.

“Dean…want it,” you moan out, your delicate, manicured fingers tracing the toughness of his stubble. “Want what, huh? Gotta ask nicely, don’t keep me guessing, honey,” he smirks, a condescending expression appearing on his handsome face.

“I-uh, your, uh, oh, fuck,” you breathlessly whimper out, as his rough, calloused fingers gently slide down between your legs, rubbing your soft, warm folds, through your pretty and pink lace.

“Let me see what you got down there, hmm?,” he smirks, knowing that he has you completely wrapped around his finger. You nod, his hand cups your cheek for another kiss. He slides off your skirt, your knee highs, your Lacey top. You work on his jeans, until he stops you, with a look — meaning that he can take care of it.

All clothes gone — your legs intertwine, he presses his leaking bulge into your folds, you could practically feel how you clenched around nothing!!

“Dean…,” you beg again. “What’s wrong, huh? What’re you beggin’ for, seeet thing. Gotta give me words,” he says, all the while his thick fingers continue to work you open — get you ready for him.

A soft smile is on his face as his fingers become ever so gentle, continuing a circular pattern, pausing to tightly cup and squeeze your pulsing mound.

“Want. Want your, ha — your cock, Dean. Please. Please!,” you squeal out, just as he cups and massages your mound once more. “Why didn’t you say so, at first, sweet thing? Here I was thinkin’ you only wanted my fingers,” he chuckles, smile full of adoration — seeing you in a close to ruined state. His fingers pull out with a squelch.

You whine at the loss, your cunt throbbing, pulsing, desperate to be filled!! He smiles, hands on your hips. “Bend over f’me, baby.” You do as said, his smile and yours widen as his two hands cup your ass, giving it a hard smack.

His hands trace up and down your back, your waist, until you feel his soft tip press at your entrance. You turn around to view what you’ve been waiting for. He’s big. Short, yet thick. Oh so thick. You weren’t sure if he’d fit. A large vein ran down his left side. Fuck — how you wanted that in your mouth.

His hand gently guides your face back down into the table which you were bent over. “Down, baby. You’ll get a chance later, yeah?,” he soothes you. You nod. You feel his throbbing tip at your mound, as he slides in — you feel the stretch, just for a bit, and then he starts to push in, you felt so full !!

“Fuck— ah, Dean, too much, too much,” you squeal out, as he slides in, and starts to move, thrust, slow, gentle at first, and then deep, fast, his thick balls slapping against your mound. You saw stars, felt pressure as he kept going, faster, rutting into you, his hairy chest pressing into your back. The man had put you in a mating press. You wouldn’t mind. With how it’s going with him — you’d take his seed. Anything for the man that saved you from the Wendigo.

Your eyes roll back into your head, his grip on your hips was like a vice. The two of you finish with screams. He groans. “Fuck, sweet thing. You take it like a champ, yeah?” You nod giddily, anything for his praise and approval. “How’s about we stay in this room tonight? I’ll getchu’ a beer.” You nod. “That’s my good girl. Stay put.” With that, your mound is even more wet, you’re left clenching, covered in his cum as he leaves to get you snacks.

He comes back, presses a nice kiss to your forehead, and makes the two of you some dinner. You wondered what this will lead to.

Author’s note: pls support your creators <3 if you love this fic pls comment or reblog! Greatly appreciated <3 xoxo - Liz

[saintjosie]

skirt go spiny girl? Like you invented the term?

not even a little bit!

the “skirt go spinny girl” is in reference to one of my tiktoks which blew up on here and so people recognize me a lot from that video on tumblr specifically.

which is funny cause it actually was not at all super viral on tiktok!

but yeah it’s from this:

[greasy-night-rat]

Joe: Didn't want to wear a dress, but didn't want to feel left out either. Complements don't help even if genuine. Viktor: Crumbled under peer pressure. A lil embarrassed Disco: "Skirt go spiny" Hippo: Feels pretty ^ w ^

[Individuals under the cut]

[werecreature-addicted]

Butch bug biker gang..... okay we got mole cricket mechanic, racer spiny mantis, gator isopod, now who else??? Uhhh. Hm... OH rosy maple moth! This one is like, the odd gal out. Poodle skirts and heeled boots, but the emblem on her black leather jacket indicates exactly who she cruises with. Bubblegum bitch type of bad femme who crushes skulls under her heel like they're cigarettes that need to be put out. Always makes sure to leave a big lipstick mark anywhere and everywhere she can reach on you. She wears lots of rings because they make her punches hurt more and when she grabs you for a quick make out it leaves a mark or two.

All the other butch bugs think shes rad and they let her join the crew because she probably has more attitude than all of em 😭 they cant fight w that. Esp not when shes as cute as she is cruel. I bet her bike has barbie pink flame decals.

anon you know i'm a moth fan. High fem rosy maple moth who wears pink leather jackets and does her lipstick in the side mirror of her bike. she's tougher than she looks...or maybe she's not idk. the three to five butches who ride with her certainly are though.

[autogynocrat]

i want to fuck a reddit trans girl i want to press her upvote button until she reddit gold in my mouth skirt go spiny hide her face behind blahaj while i slurp her like a gogurt

[gobodegoblin]

wearing skirt

it goes spiny

ive genuinely never felt so happy

[phytochorion]

Elei

Name: Elei Fafie

Pronouns: She/Her

Order Represented: Bennettitales

Age: Kungurian, Early Permian

Height: 6 centimetres

Eye colour: Dark Green

Magical Proclivity: Water, Wind

Spells: Chalaza Afa, Synangia Fa'afilemu, Interseminal Galu, Ramentum Asiosio

An outgoing and dutiful woman who serves with Sirichai's crew. She's adventurous, straight-talking and short-tempered. Although she isn't related to Kai Namele, she looks remarkably like him, with many assuming at first glance that they're twins. She personally finds the assertion that they look alike irritating and is quick to correct it.

Like Kai, her tresses and wings are made up of tough, spiny foliage, and her crown is a pair of tough cones. They are rounded, colourful and more ornate than his, almost like compact inflorescences. She enjoys weaving and usually wears a skirt made from dry leaves, repurposed after they have been shed by her wings.

She's physically strong and also wields impressive wind and water magic that allows her to summon brief, intense storms, or launch fibrous scales from her own body. Considered the crew's best fighter, she and her lookalike have the responsibility of protecting the vessel, its cargo and of course its other inhabitants from the many dangers of the deep.

[mayakern]

I got my skirt last week and was so excited I immediately put in on and spun it. It's so cute and fun and spiny!

aw hehe i’m so glad you liked it ☺️☺️

[witchybluedeity]

Have a couple of designs for yet another au.

Wealth in Family!

Leo - Red-Eared Slider - Mask and wrappings are Gold - Favorite Kimono is the red one, but he'll switch depending on how he feels - Trained with and uses the Bō - Still has the power of portal creation; spins the bō with intent to create a portal to make one - Obi (belt) is his usual blue, Hamato Clan symbol is the same green from the show - Secondary weapon is the Ōdachi/Katana

Mikey - Eastern Box Turtle - Mask and wrappings are Emerald - Favorite Kimono is the light lilac one, doesn't change often but will wear a hakama (skirt) if tempted - Trained with and uses the Tonfa/Sais - Still has the power of mystic chains; they connect to the handles of the Tonfa/Sais with a long, mystically retractable chain - Obi (belt) is his usual orange, Hamato Clan symbol is the same green from the show - Secondary weapon is the Kusari-fundō/Nunchucks

Donnie - Albino Spiny Softshell Turtle - Mask and wrappings are Silver - Favorite Kimono is the green one, as well as the gray Haori (jacket) and Beige Hakama (skirt). He takes the Haori off when working in the lab - Trained with and uses the Ōdachi/Katana - Still has the power of creating mystic tech; handles can extend cover the blade and a tool can come out from the base of the handle itself - Obi (belt) is his usual purple, Hamato Clan symbol is the same green from the show - Secondary weapon is the Bō

Raph - Alligator Snapping Turtle - Mask and wrappings are Copper - Favorite Kimono is the black one, but he'll change if it seems 'too dark' for him - Trained with and uses the Kusari-Fundō/Nunchucks - Still has the power of creating clones and force shields; knocks the base of the handles together to channel the energy - Obi (belt) is his usual red, Hamato Clan symbol is the same green from the show - Secondary weapon is the Tonfa/Sais

[clunkyrobogirl2000]

Detailed NSFW asks: 12-14 pls :)))

12. What is your go-to fantasy? Why do you think you enjoy it so much?

Usually some form of hypnosis or controlled transformation fantasy; for like a go to these are usually like consenting ones though that can be dubious and often ignored depending on how I’m feeling. And if I’m being honest? Both are probably like a comfort thing/anxiety thing, I like the idea of having my body or my mind put in the hands of someone else so that they can take care of me and do whatever they want: or rather I just want to fucking relax 😅

14. Do you have an outfit that makes you feel sexy? If so, describe it.

I have an over the top stereotypical gothy outfit with like fishnets, a corset, chains, black eyeliner and lipstick, the whole shebang. It’s so abundantly overdone and edgy and i just feel proud of it because it’s like “I’ve taken taken control and I’m the mysterious goth girl!” even if In reality I’m just making various dramatic and ‘interesting’ poses to myself. Black skirt go spiny.

[blackbloodedisabel]

i miss her (i’ve had her for an hour)

grumpy little goober consumed by grief😔😔💗 love her

here are the specifics:

"Enith has a lot of blubber because it's COLD in the deep ocean. She has an ear-length bob with a fringe (bangs🇺🇲) which stops halfway up her forehead and stubby plaits (braids🇺🇲) on either side of her face. Both her hair and tail are very dark black. Her tail is thick (blubber), shorter than the average tail, with smooth round scales. Her tail-fin is like a mix between a redtail parrotfish and anglerfish tail (spiny basically) and she has three side-fins: one on either side of her tail and one down the back. These fins are similarly spiny to her tail-fin. Her skin is very very pale and cool-toned (so she doesn't die from lack of vitamin D in the deep ocean) and her eyes are also very pale blue, with constricted pupils because of the sunlight.

Enith wears long-sleeved, loose tops so she doesn't burn, and short skirts. These are both made of a thin, light blue material.

Around her neck, Enith is always wearing her special necklace: thin piece of translucent mother-of-pearl on a silver chain. This has a magic function, don't worry about it.

In part three, Enith gets a spear which she carries around constantly. The spear has a sharp, dark metal tip and a tempered glass handle.

Enith is noticeable (in the beginning) for her kind, genuine, friendly smile and the squid-ink blots on her hands from mapmaking."

she is by far the most interesting character which is why she is the first to die not counting her parents you have picked a good one💪

[saintjosie]

Skirt go spiny is so male coded, patethic

you hear that men??? TIME TO WEAR SKIRTS

[fierceawakening]

Also my new Kax mini arrived and I’m losing my mind at how gorgeous she is

Goddamn son.

Shield design is a phoenix because “tell me this character is a cyborg without telling me she’s a cyborg”

The skirt is… I worried that color would come out wrong as I mixed it myself and sometimes HF shows something that is… not. The color. But this is gorgeous and totally the kind of rich deep red I wanted.

The spiny bits are as close as I could get to my actual intent which was bits of metal spine that curl around and hug her body rather than just stick out like spikes, but it’s suggestive enough of what I meant that I still like it.