#m!error

[czerwonywilk]

a great change and a great way to execute the idea

[skell-core]

mlem

[mblue-art]

sans au sexyman polls doooodle

congrats to the kings<3 🫶🫶🫶

[stonesandpeaches]

sometimes i like to think he still wears his old hoodie underneath his coat,,,

error belongs to loverofpiggies

[amoritasart]

He learned from the best ! ☺️

Meanwhile Caleb

Based on my AU

[hotdadlicense]

DINNER IN AMERICA (2020)

[foccaccia]

Day 17, Pact, for Wyllstravaganza2024. This was originally going to be a lineless painting. lol. Lmao, even.

[chinchillion]

“Since you did a good job, I’ll give you a pat on the head.”

— SEMANTIC ERROR, episode 6

[mokadevs]

train station

[pretty-boy-streaming]

Hey! Can I request a Micah Yujin x ftm Reader

You sure can!

TV-G: ftm!reader, fluff, sweetness, micah being a little jerk, hacking (ofc), sleepytime reader

You tapped away at your computer, lazily writing a response to your friend's post. Your eyes began feeling heavy, and you considered going to sleep.

Ding!

Your eyes slowly opened and you saw a familiar hacking calling card.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

"Mmn... Micah..." You opened up your chatroom and began to call Micah. His face popped on the screen, smiling at him.

"Heyyy, loser."

"Mmn, hey, Micah..."

Micah cocked his head. "Are you tired? You seem like you're sleepy."

"I am..." You yawned and rested your head on your hand. "I was about to go to sleep, but then you called me..."

He chuckled quietly. "Ah... did you remove your binder?"

"Yeah, I usually do before winding down..." Your eyes slipped close. "Why, you wanna see something?"

"Of course not." He smiled softly. "I just want to make sure you're okay, yeah? Don't want you getting hurt."

You sleepily smiled. "Mmn... thanks, Micah..." Your head suddenly slammed on your desk and you shot up in your chair. It took you a moment as you looked around to realize that Micah was laughing. Hard.

"Ho-o-oly shit! You actually did that!"

Your face heated up and you glared at him. "Shut up, Micah!"

"Hahaha!! S-Sorry-! Hah! It was just funny!"

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "Oh whatever..."

He slowly stopped laughing and took a deep breath in. "Oh... sorry. Are you okay..?"

"Yeah... my forehead hurts a bit." You rubbed your forehead.

"Aww, I'm sorry, pretty boy..."

You looked away. "You know how I feel whenever you call me pretty boy..."

"Well, you are one, y'know... a really pretty boy..."

"Shut up, Micah..." You tapped a few things on your computer. "I'm gonna go to sleep, alright?"

"Okayy..." He pouted. "Can we talk again tomorrow?"

"Of course, handsome."

His cheeks darkened and he smiled bashfully. "...Can't wait..."

[ossy-serenity]

Looks can be Deceiving

It`s right in front of you

continuation of this drawing

[queerxreader]

Howdy!! I was wondering if you could do a Logan x m!reader who has a harpy mutation and it’s a wing care thing, I think it could be interesting because caring for a birds wings is a very intimate thing. And or a spideypool + m!reader cuddling fluffy piece?

- 🎭

Logan/Wolverine x M!Reader with Harpy Mutation/Wings.

Bird, Bath, and Intimacy.

Featured/Warnings: Vague angst and Nudity. Baths. Comfort and Care. Fluff piece. Flirting.

Writer’s Note: I Really adore the idea of Logan this big tough guy being so gentle and caring towards his winged boyfriend. Also I’m still planning on writing a Spideypool cuddle fic but it’ll be separate from this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! And apologies for how long it took to push this out.

“Stay still. Quit your flapping.” Logan’s gruff voice barked at you.

Your feathery appendages had a mind of their own, and when it came to Logan’s touch your soft wings fluttered for the callous man.

“I’m trying, I’m just not used to someone else taking care of my wings”

“Someone has to.”

Though he sounded aggravated to be helping you, you could sense his calmness. You knew deep down he cared for you, otherwise he wouldn’t have even offered.

You were sitting on your legs in the tub, the lukewarm water felt relaxing on your skin. Logan sat on the inner edge of the tub, his feet soaking in the water with his jeans cuffed up as high as he could manage on his toned calves. He was softly kneading his fingers into your feathers. His hands were coated in a special soap that was advertised to be strong enough to get oil out of ducks. He assumed this would be the best alternative compared to the shoddy attempts at cleaning yourself were.

He noticed your difficulty cleaning your wings when he saw you one early spring morning. He couldn’t sleep again so he was just having a beer as a breakfast appetizer. He looked out the kitchen window to enjoy the beginning of the sunrise. There you were, out there waiting on the edge of the fence, he pondered what you were doing, but instead of going outside to ask he just enjoyed this new view that seemed to outshine the sun rising.

Abruptly the sprinklers chittered on, Logan knew they were scheduled to do this, but it always raised the hairs on his arms. The sprinklers were always really tall in the mornings due to the expectation that everyone would be asleep this early in the day.

You promptly thrashed your wings to glide down

through the high force water oscillating into the air. All Logan saw between your swift flailing of wings and every few moments he’d see your mostly nude masculine frame covered by a pair of tight swim shorts. He admired the way your wet body glistened in the pale morning light, it was times like this he swore you were an angel rather than a harpy-adjacent mutant humanoid. He still loved you as the latter reality, however.

He saw you land atop one of the garden statues, you perched there for a second before shaking and writhing your feathers and hair dry. He always thought you were kidding when you said you bathed exactly like a bird. While he did think it was cute watching you do your avian drying dance, he wondered if you did this year around. Wouldn’t you get sick doing this during the winter or fall, only so much of your genetics include this mutant bird dna, what about the human parts?

As you got to a decent stage where you could just air dry the rest of your body, you hovered over the patio to retrieve your robe and enter the mansion.

You only got so far into the door of the kitchen before a gravelly voice teased you.

“Did'ja have a nice bird bath?”

You nodded while sitting down at the kitchen table, “I did actually, I’m fixing to have some breakfast.”

“I think we have some sunflower seeds in the pantry for you to peck on.”

“Ha. Ha. Really funny, wolf boy.”

“You were serious about those bird baths. I thought you just took regular baths like the rest of us.”

“Newsflash, blades-for-joints, do I look like the rest of ‘us’?”

“Hey now, I was just saying I didn’t expect it to be true.”

“Well you caught me, now what.”

“I don’t think a rinse is good enough to get you clean. Those feathers are complex.”

“Yeah, so are a bird’s.”

“But you’re not all bird.. you have a human immune system and taking baths like that—

“Aw Logan, you’re worried about me getting sick? Don’t worry I never get sick.”

Almost like you had jinxed yourself, you sneezed instantaneously.

He smirked, pleased with being right, however there was a tiny glint of concern in his eye. A literal blink and you miss it type of glint. You’re glad you didn’t miss it though.

“See.”

“Whatever. It’s just ‘cause it’s cold in here.”

The memory fades as Logan turns the shower hose on you, the warm water juxtaposing the now cooler water you sat in. You shivered and then eased into the soothing feeling of water flowing between your wings in places you could never reach on your own. Logan rubbed his rough hands between your shoulder blades massaging the sensitive spot. You keened into his touch as he kneaded the tender spot that connected your wings to your spine.

“I know this spot takes a lot of weight, it must hurt to keep these things steady all the time”

“You have no idea,”

“Believe me I do— these claws are a bitch when I unsheath them.”

“It hurts everytime.” It was a question but you phrased it as a statement since you already suspected the answer. Your wings often hurt when you first spread them out after a day of binding them away into your clothes to simply function amongst the quote-on-quote normal humans. But you couldn’t imagine the pain of having blades push out between your knuckles, it obviously was only a torture he could endure.

The healing factor was what made it somewhat bearable you assumed, but you wondered where all that physical trauma went when it went away. It’s possible that that pain replaced itself into mental and emotional stress, causing this man’s emotional state to be so toughened and built up high.

Though he hated sharing about himself, it often just flew out in conversation casually whenever he spoke to you. He felt he could truly put his guard down and trust you, and clearly you felt the same. The more he spoke the more you realized his concern wasn’t just that of a teammate or a close friend, he genuinely feared losing you. He’s mentioned losing many people he’s loved before, and sometimes he’s not taken the time to focus on the little things. It’s then you understand what this means to him, you allowing him to take care of you, this was for both of you. It would take a lot for him to admit that, he swore this was only for your own good. He’d chalk it up to you being careless and reckless, though he knows if he didn’t heal as quickly you’d be tending to his wounds like a mother hen every single mission.

As he opened up to you, growing distracted, you felt him knead into the width of your back a little rougher with his hand, right into a tender spot. Your wings thrashed upon the sensation, splashing water all outside the tub and all over the damp man. He practically growled at the sudden jostling of feathers, dropping the sprayer. The water spewed all over both of you. Logan’s jeans were already wet despite cuffing them at the ankles, but now they were practically a darker color from the wetness. His white shirt was now drenched completely too, you looked up at him laughing at him.

“That was on you. You know it’s sensitive there.”

Logan huffed a sigh, “I know,” he discarded his shirt, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by it clinging to his skin.

“Let’s try this again, just relax, okay?”

“It would be a lot easier if I could just lay back into this tub but I can’t.”

Logan adjusted the setting on the sprayer and continued aiming the warm water into the middle of your back. You sighed calmly. He softly spoke to you as he rubbed circles into your back instead of kneading, “better?”

“Much, much better,”

“I’m sorry the massage didn’t work,”

“It’s okay, you know how my wings are under your touch,”

He let out a low chuckle, smiling at you as he continued to rinse and softly rub your feathers clean.

You soothed one of your hands to hold his. You pecked a small kiss onto his hand. “We might have to do a massage another time, without water.”

Logan let out a small laugh through his nose, “I guess so, just let me know when.”

It was silent for a moment as he finished rinsing you. Finally when he was done, he assisted you in standing up, he placed a warm towel on your head and shook it to dry and fluff up your hair. When he took the towel away he saw your eyes looking at him adoringly.

“What’s that goofy look for birdbrain?”

“Thank you,”

“S’no big deal.”

“No,” you leaned closer to him, your bare wet legs pressing against his damp and taught jeans. You made sure your eyes had locked while you took both of your hands into his. You pecked a kiss onto his cheek ever so chaste. “Thank you, Logan.”

His face felt warm, he blinked in awe. You had been together for a while now and yet you still flustered him. As he turned around to return the gesture you were already headed out the room. Your wings shook erratically for a split second to rid the remaining water. Logan caught most of the extra splashing against his already dripping clothes, he didn’t mind it. He was just glad to be able to take care of you.

Even after looking at the flooded floor, he still had a grin on his face as he heard you leave.

“See ya later, feathers.”

[pastelaspirations]

It is done. The third anniversary drawing. I would have gotten it done in time for the actual anniversary had I not. Gotten sick earlier this May and then not wait until the literal, actual 19th to start this drawing, but anyway-

Yee! I made it a... more sad drawing than I usually do them lol. It just... really didn't feel right to have them being all happy and smiling after I ended the last chapter how I did. Of course, I realize the irony of saying that and then literally writing "Happy 3rd Anniversary" on the drawing smh

Here's one without the text and then one where I tried to put a little filter on it! The filter didn't work out as well as I wanted and was sort of finicky, so I didn't include it as the first picture in the post lmao

I experimented with the grass and everything! It was really kind of tedious, but I like how it turned out lol. I also tried a different texture with shading a lil bit. It's also my first time drawing a night sky! :D I hope it turned out kinda well. It was fun! I will have to try it more in the future.

[oldbutchdaniel]

am i in the frame from your point of view?

eric bogosian/assad zaman, e, 2.6k words

tags: Photography, Smoking Weed, Frottage

Most of Zaman's photos were of Bogosian.

[my-dark-lord]

Valentino, Vox, and Vision

Something that Valentino used to be able to handle better in their past together was the light that Vox's head put off. When they met and started their partnership, Vox's light was much dimmer and much easier to actually see.

Becoming partners with a man whose face was a light, however, was what started him wearing his sunglasses everywhere all the time. It helped him to see better than he had in eight years in Hell, though his vision still wasn't the best, any improvement was better than nothing.

As Vox improved and upgraded his head, his face grew ever brighter and even harder for Valentino to see. Once upon a time, Valentino could have fallen victim, somewhat, to Vox's hypnotism, but once his face began to brighten and it was harder and harder to see, he wasn't able to maintain that.

Now, the blue light given off by Vox's teeth is blinding for Valentino, who cannot see those winning smiles very well even with his glasses on. He struggles not to get Moon Eyes over Vox's face when he gets in close, though he doesn't often fight it.

Despite this, Vox's smile is still one of Valentino's favorite things to try to see. He loves it whenever Vox smiles at him, especially those rarer, genuine ones. He will happily deal with being blind just to know Vox is pleased with something he's done.

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ★ Watermelon Face ★ ⛈

• (Marshall Lee x g/n reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n  &  u p  • 7 1 4  w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 13.07.2023    🌧  navigation • s u m m a r y: marshall and reader are hanging out at the beach, and marshall is being his usual annoying self. 

 It was sunny and unbearably hot in Aaa. Dang, even Marshall was hot.  Not like that.  You sat under a weirdly colored umbrella, dressed in light clothes, relishing in the cool the ocean wind and shade provided. Candy citizens splashed in the water far from your secluded spot on the rocky beach, surrounded by half-submerged vehicles and objects you couldn't even name.  You adjusted your large sun hat and sipped a cold drink. You didn't need the hat, you were wearing it in solidarity with... an annoying vampire that was levitating on your right, under the umbrella, dawning a hat, gloves, the whole anti-sun fit.  He floated down and you frowned. He hadn't said a word yet, but you anticipated something dumb. It was right on the edge of his forked tongue.  "What's that?" His pleasant and casual baritone rang out by your ear, and you felt yourself shiver at his cold-ass hands on your shoulders.  You flinched and moved away. You gave him a side-eye.  "Mojito with watermelon eyeballs," You stated with no interest, sipping with displeasure. The breeze blew by, and a drop of condensation hit your leg.  "So are they... eyes? Or watermelon?" Marshall tilted his head, raising a brow, pointing at the glass.  The eyes bobbed up and down in liquid between chunks of ice. You grimaced, chewing through one and swallowing thickly.    "I don't know, but the texture is terrible. Worst mistake ever." You shuddered as the chewed up chunks of the fruit and or organ slid down your throat, finally out of your mouth. You took a gulp of the fizz. You stared out into the ocean. Gentle lapis waves rolled and crashed onto the golden shore. The sun still burned, and cream clouds floated along the horizon; a march into oblivion.  You inhaled fresh air, chunks of ice stinging your mouth and teeth. In a good way. "Eating the ice?"  And there, your moment of serenity was quickly interrupted. Or obscured, more like. By Marshall.  Your brows lowered and you crunched loudly. "Yea, is crunchy," You said with a full mouth.  Marshall laughed at your expression, putting his long arms behind his head, lounging mid air. Was it bothering you? Kind of. Did you have enough energy to bicker with him?  Your frown deepened.  No. That was your Glob-damned off day!  Marshall clicked his tongue, gestured with his hand, and closed his eyes.  "I prefer to crunch on the bones of my enemies," He quipped as he opened his eyes and hissed out the "s", his scleras black and his irises and pupils a bright red. You suppressed a smile.  "You know what else is cold and hard?" He said in an aloof, teasing tone.  Marshall smirked.  Your smile and frown fell, replaced by thinly concealed horror. "What." It was less of a question and more of a panicked stammer.   Double take wasn’t enough. Not even triple take. You nearly choked on your drink. You stared at his cold hands and forced your eyes to stare into his demonic crimson eyes. You hoped dearly that he couldn't read minds.  "The beds in the Ice Kingdom! I stayed over at Simona's last night and my back still hurts," He explained calmly, looking away. When his eyes fell on you, he burst out into a cackle, spinning and clutching his stomach as his hat nearly fell off.  "What did you think I was gonna say?!" He threw back his head, fangs brandished and eyes watching you.  "... Well.... you know..."  The words died in your throat with your dignity. You felt your face heat up as you pressed yourself into your chair. "What?" He smirked, drawling, unable to contain his amusement at your suffering. "Nothing." You looked down, metaphorical tail between your legs. You were definitely red with how much your face burned. When condensation dripped on your leg again, you flinched.  Thoughts? Ninety miles per hour. Face? One billion degrees.  He floated closer to you. He wouldn't flippin’ dare. His hands extended to your face.  "Wow, hey there watermelon fa-"  You cut him off by chucking a handful of ice at his face. He caught it with his maw. He crunched loudly, arms folded. He looked into nowhere for a bit.  He smiled, still chewing. "Oh, it is crunchy!"