Marbles

leon babygirlification

How did he end up in this position? 😳😮

so excited to play re4 remake this weekend :D (my hand hurts lmao)

timelapse under cut:

Supernatural

Exiting the portal Winchester's VS Angel's

Yes, in the episode Gabriel fell on Castiel. I wanted to draw how they both awkwardly plowed the ground.

Gabriel and Rowena

Dean: "Continue. For complete happiness, we need a Nephilim with a character like Crowley’s."

hai @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington 's warrior cat au would inevitably rot my brain

The ninja and their god forms (like Nya when she becomes the sea) based on this concept by @superstar-rockin-jay (pls click on it the quality is bad again)

Yeah so I reworked my previous designs, I’m not 100% satisfied bc they aren’t really coherent and I think I based it a little too much on the cultures I hc them as but hey speaking of:

- Kai is inspired bc mayan and aztec culture

- Jay (who has probably the weakest design) is inspired bc norse and celtic culture

- Cole is inspired by indian culture

- Zane is a tricky one bc I hc him as japanese but I didn’t really find any patterns that would match the rest of the ninjas designs so I also took inspo from inuit patterns (EDIT: I removed the inuit inspired tattoos since I’ve been told they’re scared and shouldn’t be used or drawn by non-indigenous people)

- Lloyd is inspired by polynesian and esp samoan culture (I hc him as korean/japanese but since Zane already has a japanese ‚look‘ I went for the idea that Lloyds grandma is polynesian and that’s why his design is like that) (I also gave him top surgery scars bc although he’s a god and could probably change gender whenever he likes I think it’s a nice reminder that my version of lloyd is trans)

- Nya is inspired by chinese culture

Reblogs are appreciated bc this took a long time (even without shading)

I’ve uploaded this 3x now… hoping it’s not going to get flagged again

DM for the whole uncensored fanart

@sparklinspence @lizzielovegood-blog @merpancake @brillianthijinx @thaddeusly @not-easy-being-green-124 @tobias-hankel @ssa-sarahsunshine @spencersfunkysocks @chaotic-librarian @wherethewordsare @justiceforralvez​ @highwayfiftyeight  

She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.

Note: Female (blink and you’ll miss it implied plus size) reader, but no other descriptors are used. This fic is so short because it’s pretty much PWP. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Dressing room sex, mirrors, breeding kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, implied baby trapping. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Chattering from the packed high school auditorium somehow seeped through the walls. The rural town that was the latest stop in Soldier Boy’s war bond drive had shown up en masse out of patriotism or sheer curiosity. Usually both. Electricity was always in the air before the show in small towns. Some of them didn’t even have movie theaters. 

You and the other dancers on the tour had set up camp in one of the bigger classrooms, using it to get ready in since it was near one of the bathrooms. Dresses, sequins, and makeup scattered about the room, making the place of learning look like a department store had exploded inside. You’d been helping another girl with the curlers in her hair until a masculine voice called out your name from the doorway.

“Soldier Boy wants to see you in his dressing room.”

You nodded, giving an apologetic look to your colleague, who waved you off. It wasn’t unusual for Soldier Boy to call on one of you to help him “warm up” before the shows. Lately, however, he’d almost exclusively been asking for you, to the detriment of your jaw. 

Grabbing a nearby tube of red lipstick, you hastily applied it in the illuminated mirror in front of you. The lipstick residue soon adorned a tissue that you discarded, and you used your fingertips to gently massage the muscles in your face in preparation for taking him again. You hoped you’d at least get to come this time.

A flyer had gotten you to this point, stark white with patriotic motifs, pinned to a board in the nightclub you had been working in prior to getting the gig. Uncle Sam declared, “Ladies, you can serve your country too!” You figured why not, there was a war on, and if you could do something to help, you might as well. 

Your qualifications led you to your local USO office, where you were handed a star-spangled outfit and joined a gaggle of other girls to be the supporting act on Soldier Boy’s war bonds tour across the country. At times, you felt silly, kicking and shimmying to audiences who were clearly only putting up with the opener just to catch a glimpse at the world’s first superhero. A man larger than life in every sense of the word, as you and your fellow dancers on the tour would learn.

Wandering the hallway, you checked each door for an indication of which commandeered classroom was his. Not one for subtlety, his dressing rooms always had ‘SOLDIER BOY’ printed in large letters, declaring his presence. You found the sign toward the end of the hall, giving a smile to the usual group of people who congregated around him, assistants and handlers to keep him on schedule.

You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you asked when he opened the door. 

He smiled, putting his hand on your lower back as he ushered you inside. “Sure did, sweetheart.”

His dressing room always betrayed his vices—alcohol, drugs, porno mags. It didn’t faze you anymore, not like the first time he asked for you, a stuttering mess in his presence. Back then, you had to take a shot with him to settle your nerves enough to blow him without feeling too self-conscious. Now, it was routine. You moved to get on your knees, but he stopped you, to your confusion. 

Instead, he disarmed you with a passionate kiss that nearly knocked you over. You steadied yourself on his strong arms that had made their home near your hips. He squeezed them, pulling you closer so your body was flush against his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

You let him take the lead, he always did—strong, masculine, hard-working. Wasn’t America lucky its hero was easy on the eyes too? Except he had a temper, a mean streak that could go for miles. Not that you’d ever been on the receiving end of it. No, for all his faults, you seemed to get the best of Soldier Boy.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.

“You have?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re—“ he paused, searching for the word he wanted to use, “special to me.”

You weren’t sure why he was laying it on so thick. It wasn’t your first rodeo with him. “Special?”

“‘Course you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren’t,” he said. “I wanna try something different today, alright, doll?”

“Alright,” you agreed softly.

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Your body came alive at his praise, and you pressed your lips to his for another kiss. He guided your body backward until you bumped into the vanity. Parting his lips from yours, he turned you around, bending you over it so you were face to face with yourself in the mirror. 

You looked at him from the reflection, brows furrowed as you wondered what he was doing. 

He leaned down, voice husky in your ear as he growled, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you come.”

Your eyes widened, and you grabbed either side of the vanity in preparation, to his amusement. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he pushed up your shimmery skirt, exposing your red, satin panties, specially made to be on display. Soon, your panties were around your heeled feet, one of his hands reaching to play with your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts through your top.

“We look good together, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, intense gaze studying your reactions.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, trying to keep your eyes open. 

He always wanted you to look at him. From your knees when you were sucking him off, when he’d be standing on the side of the stage during your act, in his hotel rooms when he couldn’t find local girls to fuck around with. This instance was different, though, able to really see him, and yourself. You didn’t find your glassy gaze or parted lips particularly flattering, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.

His fingers had already brought you close to climax, and you whined when he pulled them away from you for a moment to free his hard cock from his pants. You shuddered, feeling it on your skin before he guided it in your pussy. Your hands curled around the vanity you were bracing yourself on. You weren’t sure if you’d get used to how his cock seemed to split you apart every time.

One of his arms wrapped just below your chest to hold you up, as you struggled to support yourself when he started pounding into you. Your pussy was already wet and pliant for him, and you'd be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds if you weren't so focused on getting off when he had brought you so close to the edge already.

You were your own voyeur, your brain feeling like it was going to melt, watching yourself getting fucked by him. His superhuman strength always caught you off guard, from the first time he shocked you by lifting you above his head on stage for a roaring crowd to the way he could make your body feel—and look—like you were little more than a ragdoll. 

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunted as he thrust into you, items falling from the vanity and onto the floor at the force he used to fuck you. “Want you up on that stage with my cum leaking out every time you kick up those legs—fuck—you’re mine.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the vulgar image he conjured up. “Yours daddy.”

His voice was strained, words slurring together. He was close. “‘S right, baby. Keep fuckin’ you ‘till you make me one. You like takin’ daddy’s dick, don’t you?”

You had to force the short affirmation out of your mouth, pleasure’s chokehold creeping up on you. That wasn’t enough for him or his ego.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I love taking—oh fuck—taking your dick, daddy.”

He came, hard and sloppy as your pussy milked his cock. You cried out, feeling so full it almost started to hurt. Something in you finally snapped, releasing the pain and pressure as you rode out your orgasm on his softening cock. Your arms gave out from under you so that it was just his strength holding you up. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go back to having sex with men who weren’t well-endowed superheroes. Go back to faking it, you supposed.

Your throat was sore. You hadn’t paid attention to how loud you were being. Everyone outside the room must’ve known what was happening if they didn’t have an idea when you first showed up looking for him. 

Soldier Boy pulled himself out of you, and you could hear fabric rustling and the sound of his zipper again. You didn’t bother trying to stand up, still needing time to catch your breath. 

He used his fingers to swipe up some of his cum that had begun dripping out of you, causing you to gasp at the slight sensation of them brushing against your pussy. You whimpered when he pushed his index and middle fingers inside you, already aching from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you. 

“I—I can’t—“

‘I can’t get pregnant and ruin my career,’ you wanted to say, but all that came from your lips was a desperate, animalistic moan.

“I got you, baby,” Soldier Boy whispered, voice low and husky in your ear. “Give me one more so it sticks.”

You choked on air as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing circles in the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers pushed deeper, and your hips bucked at the overstimulation, your spent pussy reactively pulsing around his cum-slicked fingers that curled inside you.

The woman staring back at you in the mirror was a mess with her mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick. You were utterly unrecognizable as you came again, harder on his fingers this time, crying out as you gripped the edge of the vanity, threatening to break one of your manicured nails. 

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your cheek, as you came down from your second orgasm, pulling his hand from between your legs. “You alright?”

“I think so,” you breathed. “Jesus Christ.”

Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and you wondered how the hell you were going to be able to dance in less than half an hour. You’d have to reapply all of your makeup too.

He turned you around, looking at you with a brief fondness before kissing your lips, soft and quick. 

“I need to fix my face,” you breathed.

He smiled. “Why? You look great.” 

You laughed softly as he gave you space. You pulled up your panties from around your ankles, knowing his cum would stain them by the time you made it back to the dancers’ makeshift dressing room. Taking some of the tissues from the box on top of the vanity, you began wiping your ruined makeup from your face. He stared at you in silence from the spot he’d taken on the loveseat that’d been brought in for him.

“I think I’d be a good father. Better than my old man,” he said finally.

You paused, looking at him from the mirror, giving him a sardonic smile. “I don’t see you as the settling down type.”

“Maybe I just need a woman worth coming home to.”

“Maybe,” you echoed.

“C’mere.”

You obliged, joining him on the loveseat. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. You let yourself bask in the intimacy.

“Things aren’t always gonna be like this,” he said. “Once the war’s over, what’re you gonna do? Go back to dancing in nightclubs?”

“Why not?”

His jaw clenched, cheek twitching as he pulled his gaze from you. “I don’t want you doing this for anyone but me.”

This could have been any number of things, dancing, fucking, being at his beck and call. Knowing him, he meant all of it.

“Ben,” you said, grabbing his attention, “then you have to tell me what you do want.”

“I want you. I want the white picket fence, kids running around the yard with the dog,” he said, the intensity in his voice wrapping tendrils around your mind, pulling you into the world he was describing. “I want dinner to burn ‘cause I was busy putting another baby in you when I got home.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

A voice through the door startled you. “Soldier Boy, the mayor’s here to see you!” 

“Think about it,” Soldier Boy said, getting up from the loveseat to grab his helmet and shield. 

The door shut behind him, leaving you to agonize over the future he presented to you. Part of you wondered if you’d really have a choice.

Scent Glands

General information

Scent Glands are skin areas on a body that hold and release a smell.

Scent glands vary in location based on secondary gender and age.

Different scent glands vary in sensitivity regarding how well they release and hold scents.

Scent glands release pheromones that impact the behavior of receiving individuals, whether it be to warn them, soothe them, express how the person is feeling, or other.

Alphas

Because Alphas have the biological urge to protect and, before civilized societies, were almost always the leaders and protectors of the pack, their scent glands cover more skin on their body than the other dynamics.

Having more of the Alpha’s scent on the pack kept them safe.

Alphas’ strongest scent glands are typically located on the neck and shoulders and on the inner thighs.

Having more scent glands allows Alphas to scent mark multiple pack mates at one time, satisfying their needs and keeping everyone safe.

The downside of having more scent glands is accidental scenting. Alphas have scent glands on their fingers and on the side of their torso, so brushing against people can cause unintentional scenting.

Alphas often have the most control of their scent out of all the secondary genders.

Omegas

Omegas have the biological predisposition to be the caretakers of the pack, so they developed the most sensitive and reactive scent glands.

On a biological level, Omegas’ scent glands have billions of nerves that relay information to the brain in record time so Omega’s can quickly respond to situations.

Certain scent glands, such as the ones on the Omega’s inner thighs and neck are as sensitive as lips or genitals (depending on where they are in their cycle). Many Omegas use numbing gel to take the edge off.

Omegas are prone to subconsciously respond to situations with their scent glands before they actually process them. For example, if a pup gets injured, an Omega will instantly release calming pheromones before physically reacting.

Scent glands on the breasts and stomach only develop once an Omega becomes pregnant. Scent glands on the stomach fade after pregnancy but the ones of the breasts remain.

Betas

Betas have the weakest scent glands out of all the secondary dynamics, however, this can make them more pleasant to be around and makes them excellent peacekeepers.

Betas’ strongest scent glands are on their neck, inner thighs and behind the ears.

Betas scent glands are generally weaker in terms of releasing pheromones and scent, but they can hold scents for longer periods of time than the other secondary genders.

Betas also have scent glands on their breasts, however, they only appear during pregnancy and fade in under 2 years after the birth of their child/ren. Scent glands on the breasts only appear on female Betas.

Pups

All Pups start out with about the same base scent glands. When they present and age, their scent glands develop to accommodate to their secondary gender.

A pup’s strongest scent gland is on the crown of their head.

Unfortunately, pups’ scent glands do not hold smells for long periods of time, so they need to constantly be scented by their parents and pack mates. Evolutionarily, this ensured that a pack would not leave their pup alone for long durations.

Specific Glands

Inner Thighs

It is only proper for mates and partners to scent mark each other’s inner thighs (for all secondary genders). Scenting inner thighs without consent, especially if the people are not mates, is considered highly inappropriate.

Aggressive scenting and biting to the inner thighs can trigger heats and ruts.

Aggressively scenting (such as licking, biting, etc) pups on their inner thighs is considered as rape.

Crown of Head

The scent gland on the crown of the head is called the Pup’s Crown. It is most sensitive during childhood and becomes the weakest scent gland as the person ages until it holds very little scent or fades completely.

Wrists

Wrists are the most respectful place to scent mark someone. Friends often scent each other on the wrists or after a successful first date, the people in question may scent each other on the wrist.

Rubbing one’s wrist scent glands may be a sign of anxiety or stress.

Wrists are also where pack bites are placed, this includes siblings bites, close relatives, or pack leadership.

Cheeks

Cheek scent glands are very similar to wrists in terms of respect.

Pups often rub cheeks with their friends to scent mark.

Cheek scent glands are usually not very sensitive, but when stimulated can produce minor scent.

Neck

The scent glands on the neck are the most sensitive for all the dynamics.

The neck is where a mating bite is placed. Parents may also bite their pups on the nape of the neck to solidify pack and parental bonds.

Scent marking that occurs on the neck also holds smell longer than on any other gland.

my favorite part of re4 so far is watching ashley just calmly walk around all the traps i keep getting caught in