#baby flamingo

[hometoursandotherstuff]

His chonky little legs!

[nkp1981]

Baby Flamingo

found on: TikTok

[hotcat37]

Me and bro having our second child XD

[alwaysart-inprogress]

Sleeping Baby Flamingo

This one turned out both more complicated and simpler than expected.

You can find this design on Redbubble (some examples below) and Teepublic! Or consider supporting me on Ko-Fi!

Sketches and draft below the cut:

[animalbabypolls]

Sub looser bracket Match 4

[colorsoutofearth]

Caribbean Flamingo (Phoenicopterus ruber)

Photo by Claudio Contreras

[frank-o-meter]

A baby Flamingo… video at this link:

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CuzEQnRMxHz/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

[wellerdanny]

[treasuregamble]

plush toy birds

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[texaschainsawmascara]

David Lynch “who gives a fuckin’ shit how long a scene is?” vs John Waters “if the movie’s too long, cut it” fight to the death

[alwaysart-inprogress]

Re-done border!

[animalbabypolls]

Losers bracket Round 2 Match 4

Just some fancy little guys!

[isthatrightkiki]

Some random drawings of Arkham. Lol idk

[dvchvnde]

excerpt. sugar daddy Price x reader age gap. infidelity. sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship.

He's a good man, you think. Better than a lot of the others.

And so, when he slips his hand over your thigh, thumb brushing up, up, until his nail skims the lace of your panties, you don't think much about it. Welcome it, maybe. You could do a lot worse than him. Find a lot worse, too.

The pale slip of skin around his ring finger is easy to ignore when he looks at you, head tilting down. Eyes flickering toward your lips.

You let him kiss you under the awning of your tired little shop, tasting the expensive malt on his tongue. The salt—loam, brine; sweat—tangled in the sand combed wisps of his beard.

Just once, you think. Once and never again—

But he's groaning into the kiss—a growl, really—and the purr tingling over your lips seems to shake loose the slip of morality you cling to with trembling hands. The one that says this is wrong, not right, but you watch it fall until it is eaten by the rotten hope that he takes his ring off just for you.

That he comes here just for you.

(An idyllic fantasy. But you know better than to dream.)

Still:

You let him devour you. From head to toe. Kissing you until you’re dizzy, and maybe a little tipsy off the malt on his tongue, the taste of salt. Of smoke. Him. Let him slip his hand over the gusset of your panties, feeling for himself—with his thick, rough fingers—this new, unfamiliar heat that burns through you, and hope it blisters his skin as much as it does yours.

(Because maybe if it hurts enough, he’ll stay—)

[guardian-angle22]

flamingo chicks learning to walk via oregon zoo