#babysitting fail

[ghostbsuter]

Danny had everything under control! He did!

It's dark out, time ticking to zero, and he's desperately trying to hide the baby yeti along the shadows of the alleys.

He's so so dead. Even more than he is right now. Turning full ghost even.

When Frostbite finds out that he'd taken his eyes off Snowdrift for five seconds and ended up in the living realm with no preparation, very short notice, or plan, he will never trust Danny with babysitting again!

Oh ancients.

"Hey there— is that a yeti?"

Great, a hero.

Swirling around, Danny stands in front of Snowdrift, hiding their form barely, their fluff and form peeking from behind the legs.

"No—"

"Greetings! My name is Snowdrift!"

Danny glances at the yeti cub as they stand next to him.

"Snowdrift, this is a stranger danger situation, remember what I told you about those?"

The cub peers up at him, confused. "Name no name and call for Dad?"

The teen nods.

Snowdrift looks at the hero, and a light bulb goes off. They quickly slide back behind Danny's form, simply peeking from the side now, curious.

"You saw nothing." The halfa turns to the hero, grinning nervous yet threatening.

"I'm not sure this is how it goes—"

[sommerregenjuniluft]

evan and regulus frolicking like they're frotting in bed making out sloppy style about to fuck to the sounds of their boyfriends fighting outside

jfkdkfkdkf STOOPPP (this escalated, NSFW)

Regulus comes back into the living room, mug of steaming tea in hand and he rolls his eyes as soon as he, too, hears James and Barty where they're still out on the balcony arguing, cigarettes long stubbed out in the ashtray.

Evan grins, lifting the blanket as Regulus lets himself plop down and snuggles into his side.

“What’s it about this time?”

Evan snorts, nuzzling the black curls behind Regulus’ ear, “You think I know?”

Regulus shakes his head, like a disappointed old grandpa and Evan’s grin widens.

Outside, Barty makes an incredulous noise, half rising from his chair before he sits back down, trying to talk over James’ continuous arguing.

Regulus makes a soft groan in irritation, tipping his head back against Evan's shoulder. There’s a triangle of moles right under the hinge of his sharp jaw, teasing Evan to put his mouth to good use.

“It’s never nothing with the two of them,” Evan murmurs, warm breath ricocheting off Regulus’ skin and back at him.

It makes Regulus tilt his head back down, eyes narrowing and searching for something in Evan’s expression. He hums a little, sinking lower into the cushions and Evan’s embrace.

“Think we should keep ourselves busy, don’t you?” Evan says, catching Regulus’ eyes skipping down to his lips, “Who knows how long they'll be at it this time.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything but he tips his chin up and he lets Evan hook one of his legs over his lap without fuss. Evan watches the line of his throat move when he swallows, “You smell like lemons.”

“And limes,” Evan corrects with a grin. “You're off your game, whiskers. Something distracting you?”

Regulus’ slack expression slips into a glower and Evan chuckles, bumping their noses together. “I spooned some of Barty’s protein yogurt after dinner when he wasn’t looking, too busy nagging at James while they were doing the dishes.”

Regulus snakes a hand under Evan’s t-shirt, caressing the skin, “’s it taste anything good?"

The tiny devil on Evan’s shoulder does a little happy spin, “Why doesn’t the chef try for himself?”

Evan happily swallows the little pant betraying Regulus’ indifference before their lips connect.

He doesn't even have to goad him, their tongues nudging immediately as Regulus eagerly parts his mouth.

It's a wet slide of lips and Regulus’ short nails digging a little desperately into the side of Evan’s ribs when he sucks Regulus’ lower lips between his teeth.

James lets out a loud string of spanish curses outside, slamming a fist into what must be the metal of their balcony railing and Regulus sucks in a breath against Evan’s cheek and oh, is Evan having fun on this beautiful Friday night.

More kissing, hands grabbing and shucking away clothes and when Evan tugs Regulus closer by the hip he makes an entirely too sweet needy noise that goes straight to Evan’s cock.

They keep licking into each others’ mouths, Barty’s and James’ aggravated voices a quiet muffle in the background, and Regulus keeps making these little noises, squirming in place and adjusting his hold on Evan again and again, fingers clenching and unclenching and Evan can’t help himself but grin into the kiss.

It disrupts their rhythm and Regulus makes a complaining grunt that tells Evan he’d roll his eyes right now if he wasn’t currently busy eating Evan’s face off.

He’s so cute Evan wants to take a fucking bite out of him.

Or maybe finger him until he squirts all over the couch.

Evan gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek and then works his way down his neck and Regulus is restless, shifting around and then his fucking knee slides over where Evan is rock hard and he stutters out a truely embarrassing groan for it being a fucking knee.

But Regulus is an angel because he moans in response and slides his fingers into Evan’s bleached curls like it’s second nature whenever he needs something to hold onto.

“Evan,” Regulus speaks up, voice husky and eyes a little glassy when Evan lifts his head to look.

“Reg?” Evan says sweetly, cocking his head, before he goes back to the mark he was about to suck into the pale expanse of his throat.

“I’m– mgh,” Regulus swallows, out of breath, “Can you—”

Evan’s lips twitch into another smile, “Huh? Pardon, I can’t hear you, bébé.”

Regulus huffs but he makes another obscene noise when Evan trails his fingers up the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to where Evan already knows he wants him.

Another of his complaining noises—Evan lets out a snicker against the soft skin and gets a shiver in response—and then, “Want your fingers.”

“Want my fingers, love?” A gentle bite into the tendons of his neck.

Regulus arches, nodding against the cushions, “Please.”

And who is Evan to deny a polite plea as sweet as that of his lover?

Regulus’ sweats, that are actually Barty’s, get discarded. He isn’t even wearing any boxers, nom de dieu, and then Evan is slipping the tip of his middle finger through where Regulus is sinfully slick.

He throws his head back with a moan that Evan feels reverberating down his spine and then Regulus is looking at him with big, silver eyes. Wide and needy and dark brows furrowed and, fuck, so fucking wet for him Evan simply slips in two fingers at once.

And maybe he shouldn’t have. Honestly, should have taken it easy—Usually he’s the last out of the four of them to lose his patience but with Regulus looking at him like that?

Evan presses their lips together, heated and rough, and Regulus welcomes him happily. Makes a high-pitched noise when Evan curls his fingers before starting a slow pace of pumping in and out, thumb drawing slow, teasing circles around his cock.

Suddenly there’s a sharp noise from outside, one of their garden chairs scraping against the tiles of the balcony and then the door flings open.

“—the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

“If I’m gonna have to listen to your fucking bullshit only one more second I’ll start to get violent, B. Reg is still pissed we didn’t get the blood stains out of the—”

“Fuckin’ pussy. I told you to– oompf,” the sound of someone walking into another body, “James?”

“Shut up.”

“You- fuck you. I’ll—”

“B, look.”

“—fucking destroy you, P- oh.”

Evan peeks over the back of the sofa to see James and Barty standing dumbly in the middle of their living room, expressions slack and balcony door wide open behind them. He crooks his fingers again and Regulus whines brokenly, throwing his head back, mouth parting in a perfect little o and Evan watches James eyes bulge behind his glasses and Barty’s tongue lolling out.

Can’t help himself when he grins menacingly, tilting his head and thumbing over Regulus’ cock again, making the man beside him arch.

“I- you seeing this, Crouch?”

“You fucking bet I am, Jamie.”

“Since when have they- How long were we out there?”

“Dunno but I do know I’m not missing another second of this. Budge up, Rosier. You’re going to get your dick sucked so good.”

“Fine with me as long as you do it ass up,” James murmurs lowly, “Gonna fuck that wrong opinion right out of you.”

Barty scoffs a laugh, “You wish.”

“Then dibs on Regulus riding me.”

“You—”

Evan shakes his head and chases the delectable noise slipping out of Regulus when he slips in a third finger.

[harringroveera]

And he will behave (probably)

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicroficJuly 21 - prompt 21: Drama [word count 539]

Remus really needed to study. Rationally, he knew he had revised all that could be revised for the O.W.L. mock exams, but he had figured re-revising every single subject once more couldn’t hurt. So he had sat down at one of the small tables by the windows in the Gryffindor Common Room and had drawn the curtain making the place a small alcove to keep out the activity in the room. But people still kept interrupting him.

“Hey Moony, Pads thinks you already know everything,” James poked his head through the curtain.

Remus just nodded, not convinced.

“Moony, I’ll challenge Pads to a game of chess to distract him,” Peter drew the curtain back just a little.

“Cheers, Pete.”

“Moony, can you come tell Pads dogs don’t die if they chew on the pieces of a magical chess set?”

“… what,” Remus stared at James, then rolled his eyes. “Tell him yourself, Prongs, I’m busy.”

“I just wanted to tell you not to worry for me, I’ve blackmailed Pads into buying me a new set,” Peter grinned from between the curtains.

“Remus, do you have a muffliato cast on these curtains?” Lily poked her head through. “Because I don’t get how you’re able to work with your boyfriend moaning out loud he’s been abandoned out there.”

“Force of habit.”

“I honestly don’t get how you two can be together,” Mary almost appeared behind him. “He’s not even able to read in silence right now.”

“He usually has his mouth full in the important moments.”

Mary swatted him on the arm and disappeared.

“I’ll try to take him away now,” James smiled in his Quidditch gear. “Happy studying I guess?”

“Cheers, Prongs.”

“Just so you know, your boyfriend isn’t even coming to Quidditch practice,” Marlene’s broom almost knocked him on the head. “And you’re short a babysitter since James’s already on the pitch.”

“Thanks, Marls.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me to the Library?” Lily sighed. “I bet he’s about to sing along to the whole Queen discography in a minute.”

Remus only shook his head over the vinyl playing loudly from behind the curtain.

“Sorry Moony, but I have a date with that cute Hufflepuff girl now… I hope he’ll behave.”

“Surely not. Have fun, Pete.”

“Do you need me to put a full body-bind curse on him?”

“No need, Mary,” Remus sighed. “I’ll deal with him.”

He drew the curtain back to the sight of Sirius dancing by the vinyl player in the middle of the common room, exasperated looks from the other students washing over him.

“Pads!” he called.

Sirius whirled around immediately. Remus moved his wand and silenced the player.

“Here. Now,” he said.

Seconds later Sirius was by his side on the cushioned bench and Remus drew the curtain close again.

“Now, will you keep quiet and let me study?”

“Moony, come on, you know all this already…” Sirius placed a hand on his boyfriend’s thigh.

“No. Stay.”

Sirius sighed and lay down on the bench, his head in Remus’s lap. Remus passed a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, his eyes reverting back to his History of Magic notes.

“Merlin, Pads, you’re so dramatic,” he rolled his eyes with a corner smile.

[companypuppyboi]

Nutcrackers don't make the best babysitters

[mewniemoon]

Original:

[dwtdog]

Brittany saying that caiti went to a party and expected the people there to babysit her and it being unfair to the people there is so true because damn shes right and i didn't even think about that

honestly one of the most eye-opening parts of georges second stream for me was him realizing how different their perspectives had been like that has to be a terribly jarring thing to realize

[fidgetspringer-art]

The Shimmer Shields - Uniform design

[romancemedia]

[swagging-back-to]

people who look down on GEDs are repulsive filth actually <3

[dandelion-wings]

The hilarious thing about putting an EM-heavy Crimson Witch set and a three-star weapon that revolves around triggering Overload on Diluc is that the man is essentially useless without Fischl and Oz. I'm running around with this dude who wants to think he's Batman, and he can barely kill a boar without the help of a LARPing sixteen-year-old's imaginary friend.

[suokumi]

Today is the last day of a job I had to do for two weeks, even tho I survived these two weeks out of spite (no proper sleep and very poor eating habits) I actually feel full of energy thanks to the fact I can finally be home again

[averbaldumpingground]

“How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?”

Maybe he wouldn't pick up this time, she tries to tell herself. Maybe it would just go to voicemail. And then they could pretend that she never called.

Except he wouldn't, probably. Pretend that is. But she'd hold on to her dignity, maybe enough that the next time she saw him, saw that horrible smile on his face, she could meet his eyes for long enough to get through the lecture. Get through the three hours of supervising the undergraduate lab section. Get through the door.

She doesn't want him to pick up. Not when it's two a.m. Again. Not when she's still half drunk, and she can't see the stars beyond the storm clouds on the roof that Darcy left her on somewhere between her second and fourth wine cooler.

She didn't even want to go with Darcy anyway. She's not sure why she did, but the music that she can still somewhat hear from across the quad is starting to give her a headache.

Or maybe it's the long, drawn out seconds between the first ring and the third, or now the fourth. She could just hang up. She could.

But she's not going to. Not until she gets his voicemail.

Because...

Because it's been a crappy night. Because her piece of junk computer crashed while she was mid-compiling.

Because doing her postdoc when she's barely older than most of the seniors has never endeared her to anyone, her weirdly outgoing roommate excepted.

The call connects.

"It's 2:37, Foster."

So much for the small mercies of his voicemail.

The comically put-upon sigh helps dampen the nauseous feeling in her stomach though. She's mostly pretty sure she shouldn't call him.

"The weather forecast lied."

A click. What sounds like blankets shifting.

Oh. He's never been in bed before.

"I could be on a date," he'd said, the last time that she'd called him.

"At four in the morning?"

"It could be a very good date."

She'd hung up on his obnoxious laughter.

But maybe--

Maybe--

"Foster, it's a Tuesday. Why are you drunk on a Tuesday?"

Is it? She probably knows that, but the frustration and the article edits and the lack of sleep are finally starting to catch up with her. The crappy alcohol still working its way through her system is probably not helping things either.

"Were you asleep?"

More blankets shuffling. An over-dramatic sigh.

"Some of us are covering a 9 a.m. lecture this morning, Foster." A beat. "Do you need me to get you?"

He's probably not on a date then. Not that she cares. Not that--

"--Foster? Jane?"

Oh. Had he been saying something? "Huh? What?"

"You're usually a lot more sober when you call me in the middle of the night."

"I don't call you in the middle of the night."

A laugh. The slide of a drawer being opened.

"Of course not, Foster. Where are you?"

She doesn't though. Not really. He's just an assistant professor whose lab sections she's usually stuck babysitting. And maybe she stops by his lectures sometimes. But only because the theoretical framework--

"--Jane?"

"Why are you calling me that?"

"Because it's your name, Foster. You do still remember your name?"

He sounds less asleep now, less soft. She's not sure that she likes it very much.

"Now, Jane, are you going to tell me where you are?"

Why would he--

"The roof," she tells him, almost despite herself.

"The roof. Alright. Which roof?"

She didn't bother checking when she and Darcy climbed up here. One of the residence halls. She'll figure out which one when she sobers up enough to climb down though.

"Jane?"

“How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?”

She isn't sure she really meant to say that.

A pause.

"I do hope you aren't trying to sleep on the roof, Jane."

"You're not very good at conversation and you're pretty much always a jerk."

"...I see." She thinks there's something off about the way he says it. She doesn't think she likes the way it sounds. "Should I call campus security instead?"

"No."

"Will you at least tell me where you are, Foster? I've got 300 freshma--"

"--I like that you pick up."

She really doesn't mean to say that either.

"I--Okay?"

"Um. Yeah."

Maybe the wine coolers were an even worse idea than she'd thought. She--

"Okay."

At least he doesn't sound upset anymore. It shouldn't-- the feeling in her gut is probably from the questionable guacamole she'd had. Or those tasteless little cocktail sausage things.

"Do you want me to come get you, Jane?"

It's 3:14 a.m. He'd said he has a class.

"Why would you?"

She hears his car keys. She knows he lives a decent drive off campus.

"The same reason you called."

Edit: I wrote a follow up.

[whatthis]

Peter (on the ceiling): skree

Clint (confused): What?

Peter *yawns*: skree.

Clint (terrified for some reason) *calls Natasha*

Natasha: He’s just unhinged but too sleep deprived to screech. It’ll be fine as long as you keep the applesauce away from him

Clint *sighs in relief and goes back to the room Peter was in*

Peter * in the middle of putting applesauce in his mouth*

[wclfstrife]

so uh.. i really don't know how to address this and really hate having to resort to it but we are in a bit of a trouble..

we are at risk of losing our house. many situations of the year as led payments to be severely behind. as a result, the owners who claim the property are planning to sell the house on nov 28th in order to satisfy the debt owed unless we come up with some way to get caught up enough that we can continue living there. we're trying to explore all possibilities that'd help us with it but all the updates i get, those odds seem to be against us.

we are genuinely stressed and scared at the thought of losing everything. it took me years to finally move out, but i'm afraid of moving back to my parents where i might have to get rid of some of my animals ( as i don't think they have a space that will accommodate three rabbits and a rat ), and being mentally/emotionally abused by my 'sister' again while my parents do nothing about. i really want to do everything i can to help, i even offered to pay ~$1,000 if it'd help but my roommate didn't want it to stress me out, even if it could help.

i wish i could do more but like most jobs, especially animal care, pay like shit. so i'm asking for help, which is of no pressure to those who can't! but we could really use the help. whatever helps, helps. if needed, i can provide the paper -- with permission -- essentially stating the same thing regarding the debt we owe: $17,540. ( roughly ). i'm not sure if they're expecting the total amount within 3 months or at least half of it; enough that we can keep the house.

WHAT I CAN TRY.

i can do small graphics for themes & dash banners for $5-$10+ i can show examples of what i've done throughout the years, including my most recent ones if you'd like to see. or, i'm not great at it, but i can draw you wolves ( i used to draw elemental wolves growing up so if you want a custom one -- that can definitely be something i can do ), dogs, rabbits, pet portraits -- like current or passed away pets you want to a memory of -- which i can also show a portfolio of.

for my personal arts or donations:

cashapp for donations: $WolfyBun.

Chime for personal arts: $WolfyBun.

[lightbulb-warning]

16 classmates means 256 potential dynamics to explore if we only consider 1 on 1 interactions (which i will! ...until this sentence ends) and that means 256 drawings. considering that group interactions exist and it can be any combo that is... a way larger number.

i have 2 hands, 0 time and too much ambition!!

haha! oh no.