#ernie-mutuals

[jus-alilcomforblelad]

when i say nrh dynamic

you don't understand. he's everything

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your characters like this

[ariel-seagull-wings]

FICTIONAL CHARACTER ASK: BERT AND ERNIE

Asked by @princesssarisa

@thealmightyemprex @goodanswerfoxmonster @softlytowardthesun @angelixgutz @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @amalthea9

Favorite Thing About Them: How well they complement each other with their different personalities: Bert is more quiet, prefering to expent quiet times at home, while Ernie is the big extrovert to whom everyday is a song and dance party. And they learned to deal well with those temperamental differences over their years living together. Plus, the fact that for years the theory that a romantic relationship exists between the two has been strongly embraced by lots of audiences makes me happy.

Least Favorite Thing About Them: Bert needs to voice his discontentments more so Ernie can better learn how to help him. A lot of times Bert shuts his pain to himself.

Three Things I Have In Common With Them:

*Like Bert I am more of a quiet introvert who prefers domestic tranquility;

*Like Ernie I can get hours with a song stuck in my head at night;

*Like Bert I have to learn how to voice when things bother me.

Three Things I Don't Have In Common With Them:

*I don't have spicky straight black hair like the two;

*I don't like pidgeons like Bert;

*I don't have a rubber duckie like Ernie.

Favorite Line:

"Ernie: Bert, have you seen my waste-paper basket?

Bert: Ask me that again and look into my eyes."

"Ernie: Ya' know, sleep is really amazing isn't it Bert?

Bert: Well Ernie, I wouldn't know."

brOTP: Each other.

OTP: Each other.

nOTP: Elmo.

Random Headcanon: They are both neurodivergent. Bert may be autistic, while Ernie may be a combination of autism and atention deficit disorder.

Unpopular Opinion: That time where Bert was put to interview Andy Samberg like a talk show host was just awkward and not a great sketch.

Song I Associate With Them:

What's The Name of That Song

Favorite Picture of Them:

[eds6ngel]

✎ when i kissed the teacher | part five

summary: with summer break starting, it's time for you to pack up your things and leave hawkins elementary. so, will you be able to find a new job? and will you ever reunite with steve, the man that not only started this whole mess, but that you also love?

part one ♡ part two ♡ part three ♡ part four ˚⋆｡˚ full masterlist.

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. use of y/n. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. a lil bit of hurt. tons of fluff by the end. mentions of food. job interviews!! slight age gap [r is 25, steve is 29]. roommate amy being the best friend we all need. no more warnings as this is the finale!! [3.6k].

Finishing up your last week at Hawkins Elementary was not the easiest. Not only were you met with multiple days of children’s tears, hours spent reassuring them that everything was going to be okay, but the other teachers began to judge you. You would enter the staff room to dirty looks and ignorant comments. But, of course, adults bullying co-workers wasn’t fire-worthy, was it?

You packed your classroom up last Monday, the white walls, once covered in student’s artwork and decorative pieces, now bare. It made you feel melancholic and nostalgic simultaneously. Almost three years ago, you were walking into that first grade classroom for the first time, ready to made your dedicated space feel like home.

And now you were leaving, much earlier than anticipated. This should’ve been your second home for the rest of your life. But, now it was going to belong to someone else. Someone else was gonna fill the walls of student artwork, of decorative pieces, of their own little trinkets to display appropriate parts of their personality. It should’ve been you. It should’ve always been you.

Your permanent record was updated the day of your departure, the job search becoming increasingly difficult by the hour. Teaching positions cropped up everywhere, especially since you lived so close to Indianapolis, a mere twenty minute drive.

Yet, so far, none had even given you an interview offer. Many point blank stated that your record was the issue, the others you could definitely assume by their rejection wording.

The sound of your apartment door opening disrupts you from your job search, and from you continuing to stare into space.

Your roommate Amy arrives home with a paper bag full of groceries in hand, the fruit collection peeking out of the top. “How is your wonderful afternoon going?” she cheerily asks, a smile on her face, placing the groceries onto your kitchen counter.

You huff, placing your head in between your hands, “Shit. I’m not getting anything, Ames. I’m gonna have to resort to becoming a fashion retailer or something. I’m running short on money to split the goddamn bills with you.”

“Well,” she smirks, pursing her lips and creeping up to you, whipping a sheet of paper out from behind her back, “I may have a solution for you.”

You take the sheet of paper from her, inspecting the cover as it reads: TEACHING POSITION AVAILABLE. $30,000 ANNUAL SALARY. SECOND GRADE TEACHER. FULL-TIME. ERNIE PYLE SCHOOL 90.

“Ames, this is such a prestigious school! Aren’t they in, like… the top ten in Indianapolis or something?”

She hums, “Mhm, which is exactly why you should at least put an application in!”

You groan at her optimism, “I have a permanent mark on my record. They’re gonna turn me away the second they see it!”

She heads back to the kitchen, beginning to un-pack the groceries, mumbling out, “Well, you never know.”

And, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Even if it was a one in a million chance, a chance is still a chance.

“Screw it,” you thought, you were gonna put a damn application in. The highly likely rejection was just adding to the list by now, it wasn’t even a sharp sting in your heart like it used to be anymore.

Why not take a chance?

And, my God, was that chance worth taking.

It was a Sunday afternoon, you relaxing on the couch reading your favourite book, when all of a sudden, the landline phone rings.

Amy was currently out on a date with her boyfriend, so you had the house to yourself. You put your bookmark in its place, moving from your comfy position on the couch with a groan, walking over to grab the phone from its stand placed on the wall. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Miss. L/N?”

“It is her, yes,” you reply, the voice of an older-sounding man speaking down the phone to you.

“Nice to hear from you, Miss. L/N. I am calling from Ernie Pyle School 90 regarding your application for the second grade.”

Great, another rejection to add to the overgrowing list.

“We do see that there is a strike on your permanent record, but we also do take notice that you have a lot of other qualities we admire here. So, we would like to bring you in for an interview, if that’s all right? That way, we can get a good idea of your character and what the strike really entailed from your perspective. Does that sound good with you?”

You had to knock yourself back into reality as the words are spoken down the line. They were actually offering you a fucking interview.

“Umm… Yeah! Yeah, that sounds amazing, thank you! When would you like me to come in?”

So, two days later, you were dressed up in your smartest attire, walking into the brown-bricked building, the school a lot smaller than you had anticipated.

An older man, who seemingly matched the voice on your landline, greeted you at the entrance, the school empty for the Summer Break.

He directed you to his office, you neatly placing yourself on the chair in front of his desk, sitting appropriately, trying to appear as professional as possible.

“So, I’m sure you’re aware of the interview process from your previous work listed on your CV, so if you wouldn’t mind telling me a little about yourself,” he begins.

You breathe out, smiling at him, “Of course. I grew up in Indiana, more towards the north in a quite rural area. Growing up as a child in the seventies, I really felt under-appreciated as a student, as if I wasn’t valued. So, that’s where my love of teaching started to grow. I wanted to lead the next generation of students in a way that I felt, and many other of my friends at the time felt, would’ve been beneficial.”

“Well, as someone who has been working in schools since the seventies, I can see why you thought that way,” he chuckles. “It seems your generation has been the leader of change. Okay, we all know that students can become a handful at times. So, tell me, how would you deal with a stressful situation?”

“Well, firstly I would find the identifier of the situation by calmly asking the child what happened, as that helps me form a route to solve the issue. At my previous school, I had a student who got pushed into the mud and his favourite t-shirt got ruined, which made him extremely resentful and angry towards a boy. I got him a spare t-shirt to change into and promised I would scrub it out as best as I could during lunch break, which I followed through with. I then brought the two boys together, asking the other boy why he did it and he said that his friend allowed him to do it the previous day, so I taught the lesson of consent and how our feelings towards a situation can change from moment to moment. The boy apologised, the other boy accepted that and rode through his emotions. And by the end of the day, his t-shirt was just like before, mud stain-free. I’ve found that it’s much better for myself to understand the reasons behind something, instead of resorting to a lack of control over my own emotions and lashing out at one or both of them.”

The principal smiles at you, replying, “That’s a wonderful answer, thank you for that. Now, as you brought your previous school up, I do have to ask you about the strike on your permanent record. It says here that you, quote, ‘Broke student confidentiality,’ so I was hoping you could talk me through that situation. We here at Ernie Pyle like to overview a situation before immediately judging, much like yourself with stressful situations. So, please, go ahead,” he directs you.

You breathe out, trying to present your answer in a non-biased viewpoint, “There was a student’s father that I can confirm we both mutually did have feelings for each other. I set my boundaries in place last Christmas as he did try to ask me out, but I told him exactly that: student confidentiality. But, the school’s Easter Brunch rolled around, he helped me tidy up my classroom whilst the kids were on recess, and we kissed.” You purse your lips, having a sinking feeling that this was not going to secure you the job, “I would say he initiated it, but I also leaned in, because as I said, we both did have feelings for each other, so that part of my brain took over. However, I did pull back fairly quickly and asked him to leave promptly. The kiss was caught on the security cameras, and since it happened, I got fired for that reason.”

You bite your lip in nervousness, anticipating the rejection. However, you were presented with a far more mature answer that you were expecting.

The principal presents a thoughtful expression, “Hmm… I see. You said that you stated your boundaries before, yes?”

“I did sir, yes.”

“And that kiss was initiated by the male parent, to which you reciprocated for a short amount of time, before eventually pulling away, removing yourself from the damaging situation?”

“Correct, yes.”

He looks you in the eyes, leaning forward in his seat, “And have you contacted this parent outside of the school hours, whether that be after school, during school breaks or over the weekends?”

You shake your head, “I have not, no. The only time we spoke after school hours was when he aided me in running the school’s Christmas Fayre.”

“I see…” he pauses for a moment, “I’m going to ask you one more question before making my decision, if that’s all right with you,” to which you nod with a smile. “You worked at your previous school for three years, and I’m sure you’re aware that we really value applicants that have that prior experience. So, what skills have you learnt or improved as your time as a teacher of elementary school children?”

You look off to the side, sighing happily at the memories of your previous students. You turn your head to look back up at the principal, your answer coming confidently to your brain, no fears present. “I’ve learnt how to time manage and be organised. I would schedule my day in the morning to have certain worksheets and items stored in accessible places for me to switch over in between recesses and lunch breaks. Also, not all kids learn at the same pace, so I have to factor in extra activities for the children who complete their work a little faster than some of the other students. But, I think the most important thing I learnt was empathy. Children are just smaller, more innocent versions of us adults. I’ve found that many adults believe they must control their children, but I’ve learnt from my experience as a teacher that it’s better to approach every child with warmth, kindness and love. I’ve heard lots of children say that they hate school as young as five years old, and I want to be the one to change that. I want my students to feel safe and loved in my class, and for them to have it be one of their favourite parts of their day.”

He leans back in his chair, sighing out as he takes his glasses off, “I’m just… Wow. I am truly amazed by your answers, Miss. L/N. They are absolutely phenomenal. These are the exact values we like to promote here at Ernie Pyle and you would be a great addition to our team.”

Was he actually kidding? This sounded like an acceptance…

He sits in his chair with his eyebrows furrowed, a thinking look on his face, “However, I do run into this issue of your strike… But, I’m willing to find a way around it. Willing to put in some extra rules.”

You nod, perhaps a little too eagerly, “Anything. I’ll take on any extra rules you require.”

He looks at you once more, “Okay, I’m willing. These are what your rules are gonna be: You cannot speak to any male parent alone in your classroom, whether that be with their child present or not. If they ask you a question whilst dropping off their child, you must direct them to Mrs. Lane, who is going to be your teaching assistant. As well as this, obviously following the previous rules, no parent can aid you in any after school activities, events, or anything of a similar nature. If you need guidance with an event, you must ask another member of staff to aid you. These are the rules I’m offering you, okay?”

“Of course sir, I completely understand.”

“And I’m going to be super strict with this. If I even see you step slightly out of line, I won’t hesitate to add another strike to that record of yours. Do you understand?”

“100% sir. Absolutely,” you respond.

He smiles, raising from his seat, you copying his action as he extends his hand out to you, saying the words you’ve been waiting to hear for a long time: “You’re hired. Welcome to Ernie Pyle.”

You walk into the front door of your apartment, your hair now a disheveled mess from the windy storm forming outside. Amy looks up from her seat on the couch, re-runs of old episodes of Friends playing on the TV mounted on the wall.

She simply snorts, “Jesus. You look like shit.”

You shut the apartment door behind you, replying with a chuckle, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

She stands up, walking over to you where you had dumped your purse onto the small table where the pair of you eat, “So, how did it go?”

You decided to play with your best friend’s emotions, sighing solemnly as you act sad, mumbling out, “Turns out I have to start taking care of kids five days a week again…”

She furrows her eyebrows, before gasping, putting her hand over her mouth in shock, “You got it?”

You smile widely and giggle, “Yeah, I got it.”

She screams a little too loudly, lifting you off the floor in a hug in excitement, squeaking out, “Oh my God, this is amazing! I told you you would get it!”

You part from each other, you playfully rolling your eyes, joking, “Yeah, yeah. You were right again.”

She smirks overdramatically, “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”

You chuckle as she jumps up and down, still in shock at your news, “Holy shit, holy shit! You have to call Steve!”

You part from her again, looking at her with a confusion expression as you let out a “What?”

“Steve. You know, the guy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year?” she says with a smile, “You have to call him!”

You sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Ames, they just put a bunch of extra rules in for me because of that whole situation. I don’t think they’d be very happy if I suddenly start speaking to him.”

Amy groans at you in frustration, “But, Y/N, he’s not your student’s dad anymore. What are they gonna do? Fire you by association? If anything, that’ll make them more at ease as you’ll be taken, so less likely to become flirty with other student’s dads!”

You let out a long breath, thinking over your best friend’s words, before shaking your head, “Nope! Nope! I’m not doing it, Ames!”

She nods eagerly, “Yes you are!” she teases, running back to the living room and grabbing the phonebook from off the bookshelf, before returning to grab your hand, dragging you onto the couch as you plop down. She shoves the phonebook into your lap, pointing at you, “You’re gonna look up his last name and I’m going to watch you pick up that phone, dial his number and call him. Okay?”

You huff, your breath blowing the hairs out of your face as you complain, “Fine! I’ll do it.”

Amy smiles widely, clapping her hands together and shouting, “Yay!”

You open the phonebook, flipping through until you reach the letter ‘H.’ You scan through the names, reaching the correct starting letters. Hare-, Hari-, Harp-, Has—

“Uh.. Ames?” you say, blinking rapidly, her humming at you, “It’s not in here.”

“What do you mean it’s not in there?” she questions, walking over and sitting next to you on the cream-coloured couch.

“His last name is Harrington. Look,” you point to the page, “It says Harps, and then skips on to names beginning ‘Has.’ He’s not fucking in here.”

“You’re not joking with me? You aren’t making up that name to not call him?”

You look her dead in the eyes, “I’m not kidding. He’s not in here.”

“I mean, he must be one of those rare people who really values privacy. Had his name removed or something,” she replies.

You huff, rolling your eyes and slamming the book shut, placing it back on the bookshelf, “I guess the Universe is telling me really not to go through with it, huh?” you direct at your best friend, turning around and storming into your room, closing the door forcefully behind you.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little bit disappointed… Okay, maybe more than a little.

But… maybe not all hope was lost.

You and Amy took turns taking on the weekly adulting tasks, splitting the boring household chores between the two of you.

You had travelled into Indianapolis, grabbing your weekly groceries for the two of you. You were browsing the selection of cheeses, deciding which one would taste the nicest in relation to your budget. However, a tall man was leaning over you, trying to reach an item located above your head. However, once he spoke, you recognised that voice from anywhere

“I’m so sorry, I just need to grab—” The man looks down at you as you look up at him, your eyes connecting in an intense gaze, “Holy shit… Y/N?”

“Steve?” you breathe out, trying to register the fact that the man you thought you would never see again in your life is standing right in front of you. He’s wearing a Wham! t-shirt, light blue jeans, and a denim jacket in a similar shade. And my God does he look gorgeous.

And he thought the same about you as you stood there in your yellow, flowy dress. Perfect for the warm Indiana summer, and perfect for you. It hugged you so well, in all the right places. It made you look breathtaking.

“Um, hi! Hi… How— How are you?” he asks, blinking rapidly as he tries to form a sentence, his body still shocked from not only how beautiful you look, but the chances of you two meeting in the same grocery store out of your towns.

“I’m doing good, how have you been?” you respond, trying to keep the conversation as casual as possible.

“Pretty great, yeah…” He pauses for a moment, staring at the ground, afraid he would blush if he looked at you again, “Alena’s great too, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know…”

You nod, “I’m glad you two are doing good. I know that me leaving and all probably took a great toll on her, and I wanted to say sorry—”

However, he interrupts you, “Wait, you left the school?”

You sigh out, realising that Alena must’ve not shared the news with her dad, most likely too nervous to tell him that it was because of his actions. “Yeah… I got fired. They caught us kissing on the security cameras and you know… student confidentiality, you know all about that shit.”

“Shit…” he breathes out, sinking in the fact that his actions were the reason for your job loss. “I’m sorry. I never should have kissed you. It was completely my fault and I—”

But now, it’s your time to interrupt him. You giggled, “Steve, I promise, it’s okay. Besides…” you look up, smiling, “I may have found a better teaching job that pays more anyway. You kind of saved me in a way.”

He chuckles awkwardly, “Yeah… I suppose I did…”

The two of you laugh together before the air falls into silence again, the sounds of regular shoppers and beeping machines filling the atmosphere.

Steve was the one to speak what seemed to be the thought lingering on both of your minds, “So… Does that mean I can ask you out again?”

You decide to tease him, “Depends what’s in store, Harrington.”

He laughs at your comment, “Well, I was thinking I pick you up, I take you to a fancy restaurant, and then we shoot the shit, see where the night takes us… Not in a sexual way of course! I just mean in general…” He mentally face-palms himself. Why did he have to phrase it like that?

You giggle at his ramblings, “I like the sound of that,” you smile up at him, your heart fluttering all the more faster, “When are you thinking for?”

“Um… Friday night, seven o’clock at your place?” he asks.

And you verbalise the answer that he’s been wanting to hear for almost a year, the two of you finally being allowed to love each other: “It’s a date.”

and that's the end!! i hope you all enjoyed this five part series, i had so much fun writing it!! now... where do we go from here?

so, if you've checked out the masterlist to this series, you may have noticed the 'spinoffs' section. that's because i'm giving you guys leverage over the future of this little au!!

so, what spinoffs would you like to see? steve and r's first date? them officially getting together? first outing as a couple with alena? even future down the line? it's totally up to you, these are merely suggestions!!

i will be opening my asks back up next week for this series only, so i can't wait to see what scenarios you guys come up with!!

as always, thank you for dedicating your time to reading this entire series, it means so much to me!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 comment if you wanna be added/removed from the spinoffs taglist!!

[lacontroller1991]

After Hours (Ernest Lawrence x AFAB!Reader x J. Robert Oppenheimer)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Summary: Oppenheimer, finding himself in sexual frustration, runs to Lawrence and reader where Lawrence is more than willing to share reader.

Author's Note: THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL. IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM DOES THIS ACTUALLY REPRESENT THE REAL PEOPLE THAT WERE LAWRENCE AND OPPENHEIMER. IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THIS, PLEASE SCROLL AWAY.

Author's Note 2: So I haven't really posted in a while and this is something new for me, so this is my trial run. I do have stuff planned for whumptober but that'll be next month. - SIDE NOTE I am currently obsessed with Josh Hartnett's interpretation of the character, a forewarning - SIDE SIDE NOTE, THANK YOU TO @arieslost FOR THE KICK ASS NAME

Warnings: SMUT 18+, cuckhold, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), semi Public sex, p in v sex, body shots, pet names, masturbation and language

Word Count: 2.3k

==========

The lab is relatively quiet for a Tuesday night. Not a sound can be heard apart from your pen scratching against the papers and Lawrence lightly tapping his shoe against the floor. When the two of you had met, you were his student, then you became his TA, and now, you’re still his TA but you’re also his. The first couple weeks of your relationship with him, neither of you could keep your hands off each other. Homeworks wouldn’t get graded and more often than not, both of you were extremely tired the next day. Now, it’s much more mellow. The two of you had decided to try and keep it out of the lab, but sometimes that’s easier said than done. Like now.

Setting down the papers, you involuntarily squeeze your legs and let out a frustrated sigh, but Lawrence makes no comment. “Ernie.” If there were any students in the lab, you would strictly refer to him as Dr. Lawrence, but when no one is around? All bets are off the table.

“Yes honey?”

“When can we go home?” Lawrence sets his papers down, adjusting his glasses and looking you over, desperation written all over your face. With a smirk, he kicks his legs up on his desk, readjusting the papers in his lap and clicking his tongue.

“I don’t know hon, I have all these papers to grade and the less you help, the longer it’s going to take.” His comment irks you but you know he’s right. Picking up the papers again, you try to scan them over as quickly as you can, oblivious to the quantum physicist walking into the room, Lawrence on the other hand notices instantly. “Well, look who’s here.” His voice tears your already frail concentration away as you focus on Oppenheimer, jacket tossed on one of the chairs. 

“I’m tired of her playing games.” He crashes on the seat next to you and takes out his pipe, lighting it up while you and Lawrence share a brief look in confusion. You don’t really know what Oppie is going on about, but from what you understand from Ernest, it’s about a woman named Jean.

“What did she do this time?”

“She calls me, says she wants me, I go over, she kicks me out. She got me worked up for nothing,” Robert complains as Lawrence raises an eyebrow, taking a brief look at you but your eyes are raking down his body. You and Lawrence have spoken, rather in depth, on your mutual attraction towards the Quantum Theorist. Lawrence’s attraction is more on an intellectual level while yours is more on a sensual level. 

“Anything we can do to help?” You offer quietly, repositioning yourself towards Oppenheimer and fixing your blouse. Oppenheimer’s cold blue eyes fixate briefly on your bosom before shaking his head, focusing on his pipe.

“Not unless you have a way to relieve my tension.” Your eyes flick to Ernest silently asking if you can, only to receive a slight nod of his head, his eyes returning to his papers.

“Well, I can,” you comment, setting your own papers down on Lawrence’s desk before pulling the pipe out of Oppie’s hands and sliding onto his lap, your legs resting comfortably on either side of his hips.

“Uh- Lawrence?” Oppenheimer’s eyes flick behind you and try to find Ernest’s only to find them still focused on the papers and not really caring.

“Go ahead and enjoy yourself Robert. She’s really skilled.” It’s all the convincing Oppie needs before his eyes focus on your face, your hips slowly rocking against his. 

“I- um- not really sure if you should be- doing this,” he swallows, trying to keep his eyes on your face as your hands trace down his chest. 

“Why not? Daddy said it was ok.” You can hear Lawrence snort in amusement as Robert nods, leaning back in the seat, his hands falling to your hips as he begins to take control. Leaning down, you press your lips against his neck, gently sucking on the supple skin right below his ear, causing his eyes to flutter close.

“Dear- ar-,” he lets out a little moan as your hand moves between yours and his body, gently grazing against his hardon.

“Wow, so Oppie can shut up.” Lawrence’s comment stifles a laugh out of you as you lean back, removing your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor of the Rad Lab. Oppenheimer’s eyes instantly fall to your breasts, his hands reading up and gently running the pads of his thumbs against your nipples, causing you to let out a soft moan. Looking up from his paper, Lawrence watches you with a smirk before returning to his work, ignoring the way his cock begins to press against his slacks.

“Lawrence?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure it’s okay if I take her?” Oppenheimer asks as you continue to undress yourself, leaving you in nothing except your stockings, knowing just how much Lawrence likes them on you.

“I’m not in control of her, you have to ask her yourself.” A wave of arousal goes between your legs, because no, Lawrence IS in control of you. For him to suggest otherwise is his way of foreplay.

“Well?” Oppie’s question breaks you out of your thoughts as you drop yourself back on his lap, immediately feeling the length of Oppenheimer’s cock. 

“Yes, Dr. Oppenheimer.” You can visibly see the way Oppie’s pupils dilate before he’s picking you up and placing your back on the desk, one of his hands shoving down his suspenders and pants to his thighs, letting his cock spring free. 

Looking up from his papers, Lawrence watches the way Oppenheimer begins to guide his member towards your heat. 

“You might want to go in at a slight angle, it gets the job done much faster.” 

“Who said I want to get it done fast?” Oppenheimer retorts, his eyes focused on Lawrence behind him and not the way you’re touching yourself underneath him. Lawrence though, sees your deft hand rubbing tight circles against your clit. 

“If you don’t get it done sooner rather than later, she’s gonna lose interest.” Lawrence’s comment has Oppie’s head turning right back to you causing his dick to twitch at the sight. “Besides,” Lawrence slaps the papers on his desk, making his way over to you and Oppie before sitting down on the edge of his desk, “I would still like to have a turn with her.”

“Are you going to watch?” You ask with a small smile causing him to smile back. 

“Yes sweetheart, now why don’t you show Oppie just how nice you feel.” Lawrence smirks, his eyes watching your body intensely as Oppenheimer begins to push the head of his cock in, grunting as he meets resistance. You, on the other hand, let out a moan at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. “How does he feel honey?”

“So good,” you moan out, wiggling your hips and looking up to the physicist above you, “you can move.” Oppie nods his head, his hips starting a steady pace, trying to not look to Lawrence for approval. Leaning over you, Oppenheimer places a tentative kiss on your nipple before taking it between his teeth causing you to let out a sharp gasp of surprise. Picking up his pace, sweat begins to trickle on his forehead as your moans get louder, your nails scratching at his biceps while your hips cant up. 

Feeling the beginning of your orgasm, you reach one hand down between your bodies and begin to rub your clit, eyes fluttering close and chasing the feeling, barely registering the fact that Lawrence is commanding Oppie on what to do. “I’m close.” “We know baby girl, just hold on a little longer.” Oppenheimer comments, his hips thrusting wildly as he chases his own orgasm while he looks to Lawrence, “where?”

“She likes it on her tits. But make sure she cums first.” Oppenheimer nods his head, trying to keep his pace as best as possible so that you can cum. “Come on honey, cum for Robert,” Lawrence whispers in your ear while petting your hair in soothing strokes, sending you toppling over the edge.

“Oh fuck,” you let out a long moan as Oppenheimer continues to thrust into you, helping you ride out your high before slipping out of you and jerking off, hot ropes of his cum landing on your stomach and tits. Both you and Oppenheimer breathe heavily for a minute before you sit up, his cum dripping off your body and onto the floor, while Lawrence smiles like a proud parent.

“Good job Oppie,” Lawrence claps Oppie on the shoulder before his hands unbutton his slacks and push them down, taking a seat at his desk chair, “but let me show you how it’s done.” His focus shifts to you, a lustful look in his eyes. “Well kitten?”

You raise a brow as a smirk forms on your face. “Yes Dr. Lawrence?”

“Why don’t you show me and Dr. Oppenheimer what that pretty little mouth of yours can do,” Lawrence comments as you nod your head, walking over to him before sinking to your knees in between his strong thighs. Judging by how hard he is and how much he’s already leaking, you’re thoroughly shocked he didn’t pull you off of Oppenheimer and just have his way with you. Despite Lawrence being a gentleman to all those who he crosses paths with, he sure loves to manhandle you. Wasting no time, you immediately grab ahold of his member and run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside. If Lawrence felt any sort of pleasure he’s not making it known. Normally, he makes all sorts of noises but you suppose it’s probably Oppie being in the room and Lawrence’s need to establish himself as an alpha male, which you will tease him about later.

Looking up through your lashes, you place a tender kiss to the head of his cock and you can barely see his breath hitch. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue collects the precum that has leaked causing Lawrence’s hand to weave into your hair.

“Think you can take a little more honey?” You nod in response, relaxing your throat as much as possible before his hand starts guiding you up and down on his cock. Reaching up with the hand that’s not wrapped around his member, you gently roll his balls in your hands, aware of the way Oppenheimer watches like there’s nothing else in the world. “You’re doing such a good job honey, just like that,” Lawrence tosses his head back, eyes screwed shut and mouth open in ecstasy as his hips lightly thrust into your mouth. Twisting your hand around his cock, you moan softly causing his hips to briefly falter. Picking up your pace, the sound of you gagging around your lover’s cock echoes in the lab, that and fapping? Looking over briefly, you can make out Oppenheimer’s hand pumping his own cock up and down as if he was watching his own personal porn, in which case, he is.

“Fuck honey, don’t stop.” You can tell that Lawrence is close by the way his hand flexes in your hair. Nodding your head, you take him as deep as you possibly can, your own moans sending vibrations around his cock before it twitches in your mouth. Lawrence lets out a small grunt as he holds your head still around his cock while your hand continues to rub the base of his cock, trying to help him ride out his high as you hear another grunt, this time a little further away. After coming down from his high, Lawrence gently pulls your face off his cock with a lopsided smile. “Now are you going to swallow?” You tilt your head back and swallow his load, loving the way both men have their eyes on you. “Ain’t she a beaut Robert?”

“Yes she is. Wish I had someone so… obedient.” Lawrence chuckles, tucking himself back in before leaning down and kissing you, deciding to ignore the taste of himself on your lips. Standing up to his full height, Lawrence offers you a hand and pulls you up, placing his jacket around your shoulders.

“Well, that was fun,” you comment as Lawrence pulls you into his side, being slightly more possessive now that the sexual tension is dissipating. Oppenheimer immediately picks up on it.

“Right, well, I should get going. Thank you both for that. It was much needed.” You move to respond but Lawrence’s hand grips onto you just a little tighter.

“You’re welcome. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Robert nods his head and dips out of the room, closing the door and leaving you and Lawrence there alone. Turning in his grasp, you reach up and fix his glasses while he kisses the palm of your hand.

“What was with the sudden possessiveness?” He scoffs before picking you up and placing you on his desk, slotting himself between your legs and kneeling on the floor.

“Because, even though we both like him, you belong to me and he needs to know that. Now, let me take care of you, okay?” He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Sounds good to me.”

==========

Author's Note 3: Thank you to a few certain people who made me confident enough to post this, I could not have done it without you guys <3

Tagging just in case: @floralcyanide @arieslost @darkmoviesquotespizza @cranesbathtowel @madlittlecriminal

[turtle-babe83]

My time away has been really good for me so I doubt I’ll ever be as active as I was. I’ll still pop in occasionally to answer messages or see what my mutuals are up to, but if I write, it’ll be posted to ao3. I hope you all are well and happy.

In other news, I’m incredibly excited that I get to hang out with Ernie Reyes, Jr next week! 90’s Donatello and Keno! 💜 Life is good!

[the-mellow-drama]

Another drabble (who is she)

nsfw, explicit sexual content, minors do not engage,

beta'd by EastWindmlk

It was risky to be sneaking around the Ministry, fucking in broom closets and bathrooms, occasionally sucking him off under his desk but Hermione wouldn't have it any other way. It was supposed to be just a mutually beneficial relationship, a way of easing the tension after a long day. Of course, they never went to each other's places; they would simply wait for Ernie to close up and then they would meet each other in an abandoned office or a broom closet. 

But the last time they ever fucked in secret; Draco told her he needed more and if she didn’t like that, she could find someone else.

"This isn't just sex anymore, Hermione, you know that." For Merlin's sake, they were even calling each other by their first name!

"No-Draco, I-" Hermione stuttered, grabbing up her skirt and torn knickers. He would destroy them every time, pleased with the idea of her Apparating home with no knickers on. "I can't, Draco," Hermione sighed, sliding the zipper up her thigh and smoothing out the fabric, busying her hands so that he couldn't see them shake. 

She turned to leave but stopped as she heard Draco say, "If you leave, that's it. You can find someone else to satisfy your needs,”  he spit out the last word as if it was such a burden for him. "Don't act like you didn't get anything out of this. I'm sure it was so challenging to have regular orgasms, Malfoy." The name tumbles past her lips, and she regrets them instantly.

Draco straightens up to his full height, wiping the fleeting look of panic from his face as he sneers down at her. "Fine. Have a good evening, Granger. " He emphasizes her last name, steps past her, and walks out the door, leaving Hermione alone and very, very confused. 

***

Their… ‘arrangement’...had begun very suddenly. It was only supposed to happen one time; exhausted, Hermione had walked a stack of files down to Draco’s office, her eyes drooping shut as he walked her through the case he had been assigned. 

“Granger, are you listening to me?” Draco asked and Hermione’s eyes shot open.

“What were you saying?”

 Draco has smiled at her devilishly and stood up, slowly walking around to sit in front of the chair Hermione was occupying.

“You look stressed, Granger.” He had said and Hermione couldn’t understand why she wanted to pull him toward her and kiss him. “It’s just work. Nothing to worry about.” But he had called her back. 

He offered, "just to take the edge off things" and Hermione had been more than happy to bend over and let someone take care of her, even though it was her childhood nemesis.

After that, they stopped by whenever one of them needed a physical release, usually it was more for Hermione’s benefit than Draco’s, but he assured her it was no problem at all. She would bend over her desk, and he would eat her out until she was so close to orgasm and then he would pull away, sliding his pants down and groaning as he filled her, holding her close to him as she rode out her climax. 

After Harry almost caught them in the locker rooms after a Ministry Quidditch game, they decided that they needed to be more careful going forward. Draco and Hermione decided that staying late after work would be best, considering they already worked late most nights anyway. 

***

Hermione went home that night and drowned her sorrows in a bubble bath with slow jazz music playing in the background. Crookshanks, her scraggly orange cat from Hogwarts rounded the corner of the bathroom, peeked in on her, and then stalked away, seemingly uninterested in her unrequited feelings for a certain blond prat. 

***

A week later, Hermione was an hour late to work, the night before was spent tossing and turning as she fitfully tried to sleep.

Honestly, it was embarrassing that she was this hung up on him. It was supposed to be just sex, but somewhere along the lines, it shifted into something… nice. And comfortable.

She would stop by his office for a quick shag but by the end, they would end up on the couch, sparring about work. Hermione would argue one point and Draco would do his best to convince her she was wrong.

The day before a particularly brutal court case. He would drill her on the facts, statistics, and evidence she was presenting until she stopped stumbling and tripping over her words and met his eyes with a quiet ferocity that spoke to how much the case meant to her. 

When she felt satisfied with the argument, she would present to the Wizengamot, Draco would crush her to his chest and whisper praises into her hair. She would smile and slowly unbutton his dress shirt and, in time they were sweaty and boneless on the couch. 

That afternoon, having got nothing done, she made her way to his corner office. A nice quiet space that resembled him, oddly. Simple furniture and a plant here and there, elegant and understated. 

She knocked on the door, a quick two raps of her knuckles, a pause, and then three more. If this was before, he would already be pulling his tie from his neck and slipping his shoes off. Instead, he simply stated, “Come in,” in a bored and uninterested tone.

Hermione slipped through the door and smiled sheepishly. She had enough foresight to bring a folder on the Donovan case, her appearance to the Wizengamot only days away. She held it up and shrugged. 

“For old time sakes?” She asked and Draco nodded, albeit a bit hesitantly. He asked her the same questions he normally would, attempting to catch her off guard or get her to trip up but his heart wasn’t in it. He looked as though he was waiting for it to be over. When he was satisfied, he closed the file and passed it back to her. 

“You’re ready,” Draco stated simply, and Hermione smiled again. 

“So, how are you?” she asked. Draco scowled.

“Don’t pretend to care for my well-being. Merlin knows you didn’t when you ended things.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

His reaction made Hermione gasp. “Me!? You’re the one that said this was ‘over’!” Hermione shrieked and normally, she would have the decency to be embarrassed but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything except anger. 

“I said I needed more, and you threw it back into my face,” Draco said, standing up and looming over her. 

“I thought you were having a go, Malfoy! Why the fuck else would you want ‘more’ with me?”

“Because I fucking fell for you!” He shouted and Hermione gaped at him. Draco scoffed and fell back into his chair. “Now you know, and you can leave.” Draco finalized but Hermione shook her head. “You fell for me?” She narrowed her eyes disbelievingly. The notion was laughable. 

“Of course I did, you dolt I fell for our arguments and your hair after we fucked and your smile when I would congratulate you and our quiet conversations about our favorite books.” Draco leaned forward in his chair and continued.

 “Our lunch conversations and our sex in the broom closets, but it wasn’t enough. And you wouldn’t want more, and I knew that and it felt like the easiest way to end it for both of us.” Draco finished quietly and Hermione stalled for a second before smiling and closed the distance between them. She ducked down and instinctively, Draco’s hands wrapped around her waist. “And you didn’t realize that I fell for you, you absolute git” She pressed her lips to his and her body sang, and heart fluttering.

Draco kissed her back just as intensely, standing up and spinning them around so that she sat in his chair instead. 

He kneeled before her and slid his hands up the back of her bare thighs, groaning at the feeling of her soft, warm skin under his palms. He grabbed her legs and dropped her feet on his thighs, working on the straps of her shoes.

When her shoes were off, he kissed her knees and her legs fell apart. His breath ghosted up her skin, and Hermione shivered, biting back a moan. His fingers pushed her skirt up, baring her lace knickers to him and he sighed.

“I’m going to take my time with you now, Granger. Gonna make you mine,” he told her, and Hermione stammered.

“Yes, Draco–please–” she was cut off as his fingers slowly pulled her knickers to the side and he thumbed her clit. He groaned against her thigh.

“You’re so wet for me, Hermione. Gods, you’re beautiful–” He delved between her thighs, and she sighed as he licked up slit, grazing his teeth along her clit nestled between her folds. “You taste divine. All for me,” he rasped, and Hermione let out a shaky breath. “All yours, Draco–” Hermione sighed, and Draco groaned again before pushing up off the floor, eliciting a whine from the witch on his chair. “Need to have you, Granger–please,” he begged, and Hermione was more than happy to oblige.  

He pulled her up and dragged her over to the couch that they had become intimately familiar with. She sprawled out on the couch after peeling off her skirt and practically ripping off her shirt, revealing her lacy brallete to him. She could have sworn he stopped breathing. 

Draco slowly crawled up the length of her, kissing every inch of her exposed skin until he met her lips.

“After this, you’re mine, Granger. Fucking swear it,” he demanded as he bit the skin of her neck and she keened. “Yes, Draco. Please–” Hermione whined and reached for his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down his thighs. He grabbed hold of his cock and sliding it between her legs, her arousal coating him, lined himself up, taking one last look at her reverent gaze before slowly filling her.

He couldn’t describe the feeling as anything other than coming home. She clenched around him perfectly, and he couldn’t help but drop to his elbows and bury his face in her neck, whimpering into her skin. 

He filled her until she came, her fingers desperately clutching his hair. He came after, fingers curled around her hair as he shivered before stilling, falling on top of her. 

Hermione carded her fingers through his hair, combing it back off his forehead. He kissed her neck, grabbed her hand, lacing it tightly in his much larger grip, and kissed her knuckles. 

“All mine, Granger. You’ll never get rid of me now,” he told her jokingly, and she laughed. 

“Good, I have no intention of letting you go any time soon.”

[dhr-ao3]

The Runes of the Mind

The Runes of the Mind https://ift.tt/Pu7Vwk4 by looneylunascamander Hermione Granger is the only member of the Golden Trio heading back to Hogwarts. Though they won the war, Hermione has lost her parents, her privacy, and maybe even her peace of mind. Her only goals are to find what she loves again about the wizarding world, to finish school, and maybe heal in the process. No one knows what's plaguing her, and she's trying to hardest to keep it from coming out, but after an incident in class, she may need help from the one person she never thought she'd turn to. Soon he becomes the only person she can confide in, and that may be what does her in. Draco Malfoy is trying to right his wrongs, and that starts with his conditional return to Hogwarts. Determined to keep his head down and complete the year, things change when he's forced to tutor a classmate behind closed doors. Not everything is what it seems, and soon his efforts turn from academics to undoing ancient magic he never thought he'd encounter before it's too late to save the person who's slowly taking hold of his heart. Words: 2407, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Horace Slughorn, Rubeus Hagrid, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Original Female Character(s) Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-War, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Eighth Year Common Room, Mutual Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, No Ron Weasley Bashing, War Trauma, Lavender Brown Lives, Werewolf Lavender Brown, Mental Health Issues, Explicit Language, do not copy to another site, Study of Ancient Runes (Harry Potter), Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/pFOYPBb April 10, 2024 at 09:17PM

[ferno-does-random-shit]

shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals. 🫶🫶

ok im just gonna shuffle my spotify likes bc i can't choose a favorite playlist, and also sort it by genre

Jazz

Ornette Coleman — Free Jazz

Jeff Hamilton — I Have Dreamed

Miles Davis — Four

Chris Brubeck — Black and Blue

Cannonball Adderley — Mercy, Mercy, Mercy

Rock

Alice Cooper — School's Out

The Who — Won't Get Fooled Again

Angel — Tower

Kansas — Cold Gray Morning

The Beatles — In My Life

"Folk"

Marty Robbins — Big Iron

Cat Stevens — If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out

Bob Dylan — Subterranean Homesick Blues

Bob Dylan — The Times They are a-Changin'

Tennessee Ernie Ford — Sixteen Tons

[lostfirefly]

You’ve Got The Same Dream as Me (Ch. 3)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) 

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. 

Warnings: 12+, I think. As always, no smut, angst, violence. Adventures and fun only. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.

Words: 1430 (sorry, not sorry)

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Rika and Catherine held their way to a small bar. 

"Is this man of yours reliable? Can he be trusted?" Catherine could hardly contain her excitement.

"I wouldn't trust a clown like him one hundred per cent, but yes, I can vouch for him", Rika said, scratching her left arm.

"I don't trust you much either, but you probably know the local best, so I don't have a choice".

"I'm sure I do", Rika laughed. "God, you say the strangest things sometimes.

"Okay, well, you have to explain one thing to me. Why we're going to a bar when it's not even noon?".

"Other days we would go to his circus tent. But at eleven o'clock on Wednesday morning this man can be only here", Rika pointed to the bar sign. 

“Don't be like Tangerine and Drink at Arlong's”? Catherine squinted, putting a hand to her forehead, shielding herself from the sun, she read the bar’s title. "What idiotic names these places have". 

The girls entered the bar. Inside, there were massive wooden tables and chairs, the floor was scuffed. Yes, it had clearly seen better days. The air smelled of alcohol and tobacco.

"Why are there pictures of people who look like fish on the walls?" Catherine whispered, nudging Rika lightly in the shoulder.

"Because this bar is run by Arlong, damn it. Once upon a time it belonged to someone else, I honestly don't know who. But the last owner owed Arlong money, so-- The owner was never seen again, and the bar had new owners". 

"But why are they fish?" Catherine whispered again. 

"You've never heard of fish people?" Rika asked in surprise.

"Fish people? No, there aren't any in my country", Catherine shook her head negatively. 

"God, you live a boring life there. Wait a second..."

Rika suddenly stopped a man passing by with a tray. Honestly, he looked more like a squid or an octopus with the human body. 

"Hey, Ernie. Have you seen our mutual friend? He should be here by now", Rika asked, taking two whiskey glasses from the fishmonger's tray.

"He's over there by the bar top. How did you not notice him right away", the squid replied with a grin. 

"Thank you, sweetie, you can go now", Rika nudged Ernie lightly in the back and turned to Catherine. "He's here, just as I thought. Please, Catherine, honey, do me a favour. Just don't stare at his nose, or he'll freak out and we won't get anything out of him".

Catherine shrugged, not fully understanding the last comment. 

"Buggy, mate! You don't change! It's good to see you in good health", Rika said cheerfully as she approached the blue-haired man.

"And hello to you, my cookie", the man turned round in his chair towards the girls. 

Catherine could barely contain her surprise. He was a tall man with blue hair that was covered by a striped bandana. His face was covered with makeup. Lipstick smeared around his mouth, drawn crossed white bones and blue lines near his green eyes adorned the man's face. But the first thing that caught her eye was his red nose. 

"Now I understood why she asked about the circus. Damn, he looks like a clown", the thought flashed through Catherine's mind.

"Please tell me that glass is for me. You owe me one after your loss in our drunken roulette game last month", said Buggy, pointing to the drink.

"Don't remind me of that night, please", Rika rolled her eyes and placed one glass in the clown's hands. 

"Come on, it wasn't that bad. You even went home with a cute cook", he replied with a laugh.

"You're a jerk", Rika replied with a chuckle, sipping her whiskey. 

"I think we figured that out a long time ago. So.. Wait...", Buggy glanced at Catherine, "who's that with you? Is that for me, too? Well, look, Rika, my biscuit, you certainly lost last time, but this is too generous".

"Gross", Catherine cursed out loud.

"What did you just say, cotton candy?" Catherine could hear the irritation in Buggy's voice.

"I said tha….", she didn't finish the sentence. 

"Okay, okay, guys, calm down. We got off on the wrong foot", Rika took Catherine by the shoulder and sat her down at the bar to Buggy’s right. "Buggy, this is Catherine. Catherine, this is Buggy. And I'm not going to ask you to make up on pinky toes. Now let's have a drink to lighten the mood". 

When the waiter brought everyone a glass of whiskey, Rika sat down on Buggy's left. They began to whisper about something. Catherine leaned slightly over the counter to get a better look at his big red nose. 

After a couple of seconds, noticing her interested look in his side-eye, Buggy stood up abruptly and walked away. 

"Could you please not stare? I told you!", said Rika with irritation in her voice. 

"I di…, I didn't... I've never seen anything like it. Is it real?"

"What? His nose? Yes, so what? Do you have a problem with that?" Rika sipped her whiskey, giving Catherine an angry look.

"What? No, I don't. He’s… He's cute. Even with that nose", Catherine blushed a little. 

The girls sat alone for a few minutes, until finally Buggy came back and plumped down on a chair. 

"Hey, fishy, let's have some more whisky! A bottle!" he said, making a characteristic gesture with his hand.

"Look, Buggy", Catherine mumbled, "I'm sorry if I offended you… by staring.. staring at your nose". 

"Baby, I'm Buggy the Genius Jester, you can't offend me", he said with a laugh, "So, Rika, my dear pie, what brings you to me? I'm sure it wasn't just a drink".

Rika cleared her throat.

"Listen, we need to get to the Sabaody Desert. You've been there a few times before, you know the way". 

"Why do you need to go there?" asked Buggy, opening a bottle of whiskey. 

"I'm looking for my sister", Catherine said loudly, she was very surprised at how loud she sounded. 

"And? What do you want from me? Find some young boys or grandfathers, I don't care who will take you there", he sipped the whiskey from the neck of the bottle. 

"But you know those places better than anyone in this town", Rika replied, putting her hand on his shoulder. 

Irritation came over Catherine. She seemed to be wasting her time with meaningless conversations.

"Look, I was told you're the coolest guy in this town", she made air quotes, "And you can be trusted. But the way I see it, you're just a drunken piece of shit". 

She jumped up from her chair. 

"Catherine, calm down and sit", Rika hissed.

"No, let's leave and find someone else. I don't want to waste my time talking to a grown man who painted himself to look like a clown".

"She's so boring, why did you bring her? She's ruining my buzz!", Buggy looked at Rika with surprise, pointing the neck of the bottle at Catherine.

"Don't you dare point that slobber bottle at me, you jerk!" she slapped his arm. 

"Sorry, your highness", he bowed royally. 

Rika threw an angry look at Catherine.

"I said sit down!" she drilled her with her eyes.

"Shit.. Are you sure that jackass is the best and can help us?" Catherine asked with surprise in her voice, pointing at Buggy.

"Baby, I'm the best at everything", he said, running his hand down Catherine's neck.

"Alright, lovebirds, that’s enough", Rika slapped her hands on the table, "Cathie, show him what you showed me". 

Catherine growled and quickly pulled diaries, maps, notes out of her bag and placed them on the table.

"See?" Rika smiled. 

"Fuck me! What's that? You think this is... Coordinates?" Buggy grabbed the diary and started flipping through it. "I wonder... Very interesting. You're not so simple, pumpkin", he reached out and started running his hand through Сatherine's hair. She yanked back.

"There's what you love so much, my dear clown. Treasure! Don't tell me looking at those cards didn't make you think of it", Rika whispered in his ear. 

"I can pay you to take us there. And if there's really something in there. I don't know.. gold or diamonds or women or whatever you want to find, you can have it. Please!" Catherine looked at him with pleading in her eyes.

"Of course, you'll pay, my cotton candy, I wouldn't get out of my chair for free", Buggy glanced at Catherine. She suddenly felt goosebumps run down her spine. "Well, when do we start?"

[jus-alilcomforblelad]

everyday i think about that ben willbond go to bed tweet and everyday i ignore it entirely

the tweet in question, here to jumpstart you into definitely going to bed:

[crazyk-imagine]

Mutual Crush Headcanon

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- You've known each other for ages (since you were younger) - You were the only one he kept in touch with when he left - He knew he could talk to you about anything and not be judged (unless he said something stupid, then you'd be on him) - You never knew why he kept you close when he and your cousin were closer - She always teased you about your crush on him but stopped when he left - You strategically bring him up when talking to her if you needed to after he left - You knew Jesse from Kai's team because of the kids after school programs - Kai always remembered you being on to go above and beyond for the community - When he first returned and Hina saw him, after punching him and he told her about you knowing he'd returned, you can bet she came after you - Then you happened to walk in when one of Jesse's kids wanted to visit their dad because they needed something, you can bet Kai was shook - Was not expecting you to know the team or being able to help if they needed it - He always kept work separated from you when he wanted to talk and have dinner - His dad teased him about you all the time (and he did the same to you when you came to the restaurant) - Imagine his surprise when he heard you've been the manager for his dad's restaurant - Lucy and Ernie always pushing him to ask you out - Jane and Jesse offering advice to help smooth things over or how to ask you out - He never knew you kept an eye on his dad, not until you got caught in the cross fire while he was on duty - He was the first one to help you with whatever you needed - Inoki loves you and this dog loves everyone but when he sees you (Kai has to fight for your attention) - He was pissed when Sola came into play and he flirted with you any chance he got with that stupid accent of his - If you wanted to hear an accent, all you have to do is ask, anyway- - The only reason you two went on a date was because everyone tricked you two - They all came up with an excuse to not show up at his dad's restaurant, leaving you two alone (even Sola helped) - Hina was happy the two of you made up your minds and decided to ask each other out - Jesse always teased him about future little ones - Lucy and Ernie tried to get him to talk about your relationship - Jane was there to offer advice - Whistler and C.C. were just there to lend an ear or call for backup if he needed it - Team barbecues were way more fun after that

[izzythehutt]

I went into BCS knowing that Chuck was an extremely disliked character, so maybe I just had high expectations for him being BEYOND THE PALE horrible but actually watching the show I....really don't get the hate.

A swath of the fandom seems to think he's Walter White-tier bad, and it just leaves me scratching my head. Arrogant, fragile, wounded, a jerk? Yes. A narcissistic sociopath who never loved his brother? Wtf, he's definitely not.

In my mind his narrative function is sort of comparable to Hank's in BrBa. Personally flawed, motivated to take down their respective targets by bruised ego and hurt at betrayal, but also deeply committed to an impartial moral code that refuses to budge, even for a family member. Both characters pay the ultimate price for this.

Every jerkish thing Chuck does has a sympathetic and understandable motive.

How is not wanting your ex-conman brother to work as a lawyer at your firm but being too much of a coward to admit it to his face so you shove off the job on your poor partner "abuse"???

Even his supposed "worst crime" of not telling Jimmy their mother called out his name before she died strikes me as a muddy, gray act, not outright vindictive. It was obviously motivated by complex brotherly feelings of resentment and envy, but you could just as easily read it as Chuck protecting Jimmy and sparing his feelings. What is knowing that the last thing their mother did was cry out for her son who had left the room to grab a sandwich actually going to do for him? Probably just make him feel guilty he wasn't there. We have no indication that Jimmy felt unloved by Ma McGill. Did he really need to know that he was the last thing on her mind before she died? Maybe, maybe not. Frankly, I could see him knowing that making him feel bad for Chuck.

The McGill brothers have a complex, tragic, almost biblical relationship of mutual love and hate, and I feel sorry for all the other people who got caught between them (Ernie, Howard and Kim), but everything negative went both ways and is mutually reinforcing.

In some ways I think my feelings about this are similar to my feelings about Jesse's relationship with his parents. It's tragic that he felt rejected by them and that made him susceptible to looking at Walt as a replacement father figure, but the Pinkmans had completely understandable reasons for distrusting their son and having clear boundaries with him, and everything messed up Jesse did for Walt is not actually their fault. Such is the complexity of life. People are not morally culpable for everything bad that happens as a direct/indirect result of what they do.

To me, what it comes down to with Chuck—it's possible for him to want his brother disbarred for petty personal reasons while simultaneously believing that it's his moral obligation to not give his brother a pass for committing a felony. He can be a jealous prick who also unironically believes that justice is blind. These two things can exist simultaneously.

[cleoselene]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers 🩵

oh thanks! ok

weed. weed keeps me from feeling subhuman

MUSIC. I love music, it truly does tame the savage beast. I could live without tv (it would suck) but I would truly lose my MIND without music. I love basically every genre except death metal.

my dog <3 Ernie is 10 years old now. My boy. my bby.

my friends <3 i've always said my friends were he love of my life, mostly because I kind of get hives when I think about being in a relationship again. 20 years single this year and I still feel like it's "too soon"

BASEBALL. it's almost time! i don't watch spring training, it's too low stakes and it also never seems remotely predictive of how the season will go when it really matters, BUT BASEBALLLL. The Cubs are going to be down here in May playing the Rays, as well as their usual series in Miami against the Fish, that's in August. And I am going to Chicago this summer to Wrigley!

[nixtheclause]

hi nix, hope you're doing good ^^ an 'if you want to' kinda thing:

🎶Hiiii! Tell me of 5 songs you'd currently recommend, then (if you want to) send this to 5 mutuals :D🎶

hi ernie!! ty!! ok lets see: Steeleye Span - The Story of the Scullion King The Longest Johns - Leaving of Liverpool The Decemberists - Burial Ground Aidoneus - Kronos/Rhea The Oh Hellos - December '04