anonymous asked:

Anything kinky at all! ❤️

Mmmmk! Givin’ me free range. 🖤

Master list

Imagine: Restraining Newt to his chair.

Newt sat at his desk, glass of whiskey next to him as he finished writing some letters back to the ministry. His quill moved quickly over the parchment, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he worded his letter carefully. The ministry had demanded his return more than once, but he always found reasons to stay behind traveling. Magizoology was not a subject that ended, the knowledge was always out there, ready to be found and added upon.

“Come to bed, my love.”

You leaned against the doorframe, eyeing your lover with your best puppy eyes. They always seemed to tempt Newt out of his world of creatures and magic. But, the wizard simply looked over his shoulder at you, giving you a toothy grin.

“Right now, darling. I promise.”

“Promises, promises.”

You scolded playfully, but you allowed him his free time to finish his work. He was a busy man after all, but being the lover of Newt Scamander meant you also needed some attention. With a sway of your hips you neared the Hufflepuff, twirling his scarf around your hands and arms as you got closer. Maybe it was a bit rude to distract him from the important letters he needed to write, but you doubt he’d be too annoyed with you.

“Come on, daddy…”

Newt chuckled at that, his green eyes turning to look at you with a curios glint.

“Do you ever take no for an answer?”

“Do you?”

Newt hummed back at that, well aware that he hardly let you sleep most nights. Not that you could complain, he was a proper lover, and a generous one at that. So why not return the favor?

“So…?” You held out the scarf to him, biting your lip with a smirk as you raised your eyebrows. “Want to take a break?”

Newt looked you up and down thoughtfully, taking a quick sip of his whiskey and turning the drink in his hand. He placed the glass carefully on the desk, and held his arms out.

“Well then, come on.”

You giggled and took a seat on his lap, your dress falling on either side of his legs. He wrapped his arms around your waist, looking up at you with a smile. You leaned down, taking his lips into a sweet kiss. It was nothing too dramatic just yet, and you both just enjoyed the smooth feeling of your mouths sliding against each other. His tongue poked out teasingly, tracing your bottom lip as if he was asking for entrance into your mouth. But, you pulled away smile widening when he scowled at you.

“Now now, Mr. Scamander…be patient.”

With the scarf in hand, you quickly took both his hands from your sides, putting them behind his chair and twisting the scarf into a knot around them. The wizard never took his eyes off you though, and even if he had every chance to fight back he decided to play along with you.

“This is quite new.” He whispered, smile never leaving his freckled face since he was very intrigued by this idea.

“Mm…do you like it?”

The question wasn’t too necessary, because judging by the growing need between his legs you already knew the answer. You pushed your hips down, rocking yourself into him enjoying the effect you had on the wizard. Newt breathed in deeply, eyelids dropping halfway in desire at the motion.

“Darling…” He groaned out, trying desperately to grind against you but the scarf limited some of his movements.

“Just relax, honey. Enjoy the pleasure.”

It was almost too much for you to handle, because you wanted to unzip his pants and just ride him until you both screamed each other’s names. But, tonight was meant for him and you planned to pleasure the wizard until he begged for release.

Your fingers trailed up his shirt, plucking the buttons apart along the way. Every inch of his milky skin that revealed itself made you burn with desire, and you leaned down kissing the corner of his mouth and smiling when he panted out your name. You had him where you wanted, and you continued your teasing no matter the cost of your own arousal.

With a nip, you bit down on his lower lip sucking it between yours and moaning into his mouth. Your nails scratched a path down his torso, loving the way his muscles twitches under the sensation. Newt was already going mad, and he closed his eyes as he rocked into you, hips clumsily trying to gain some relief for his aching cock. But, you allowed him only some pleasure. You cupped his erection, squeezing down with just enough pressure to make him throw his head back.

“Merlin’s beard…”

“Shh.” You whispered into his neck, kissing and biting down on the soft skin. He was always sensitive there, and you watched closely as he fought against his restraints. It seemed the Hufflepuff was no longer in the mood for slow and sensual.

“Unite them.” He demanded, eyes turning darker as he gazed at you. But you just ignored his pleas, and just rubbed your hand down between his legs smiling when he moaned loudly.

You brought your other hand down, undoing the button of his pants and slowly bringing the zipper down. The small tuft of hair he had above his most intimate area was tantalizing, and you practically drooled at the sight. But, you held yourself back and removed his briefs, just enough to let his length spring out.

The relief was overwhelming, and Newt sighed as you gripped him in your hand. The head of his cock spilled precum, and you rubbed your thumb over it, using it to slick up his length. With a flick of your wrist you worked him over, pumping him slowly at first.

“Bloody! Ah..” Newt angled his hips up, trying to get you to move faster and grant him the pleasure of his release. “Darling, please.”

All you did was move slower, gripping him tighter and twisting your hand around him as you moved it up. “Tell me what you want then, daddy.”

Newt shook his head, messy hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. “Just…” But, he couldn’t get the words out. He just groaned deep in his throat and hung his head forward, laying it against your breasts. He nudged the corners of your dress away, the deep neck of it allowing him some room to please you. He latched his lips atop one breast, sucking roughly down on it to leave a mark behind.

“Oh god, Newt…” You ran your fingers through his hair, happy you didn’t wear any panties that day. You rose up, settling yourself above his swollen length and slowly, teasingly, lowered yourself down on him.

“Uhn…” Newt moaned into your cleavage, lips open as he tried to control the building pleasure. But, you felt so damn good engulfing his cock like that. And even if he couldn’t quite gain footing, he bucked up anyway.

“Yes…” You gasped out, rolling your hips and gripping his hair tightly in your hands. He filled you so perfectly, and with every rise of your hips you pushed back down harshly onto him the need to be fucked hard now taking over. Newt panted into your chest, begging you to ride him faster, which you so gladly welcomed.

“Just like that, my darling.” He encouraged your movements, and he continued licking and nipping at your breasts as you moved up and down. He sucked softly on your nipple, circling his warm tongue around it and growling when you reached behind you to grab the rest of his whiskey. He pulled away, eyeing you with such want it burned to your very core.

“Thirsty?” You shook the glass in your hand, smirking when he just nodded in his dizzy state of desire. With a tilt of the glass, the liquid dripped down the side and slowly fell onto your chest.

Newt’s eyes followed the droplets, and he licked his lips and leaned forward catching one of them with the tip of his tongue. He dragged it up your sternum, and up until he hit the very bottom of your throat. There was something delicious about tasting the alcohol on you, and he’d had to say this was by far his favorite way to take his drink now.

You began to rock and grind into him, no longer set on just teasing him because this felt far too good to stop. “Newt!” You cried out, the sensations of his cock and his tongue now becoming overwhelming.

The wizard just lapped at you, his tongue flicking across the side of your breast. He buried his face into you, trying to hide the loud moans he was making, but he was so damn close and if you kept up this pace he would be done in no time.

“I’m gonna-” Your words got lost on your tongue, and you arched into him, inner walls tightening around his length and practically sucking him dry. Newt wasn’t far behind, because the second you orgasmed around him he was moaning out your name, his hot breath coming out in pants against your chest.

It was like the world felt completely unreal around you, eyes unfocused, heart a wild mess of beats, and forget breathing, because you no longer knew how to do that. You shakily rose up, his seed spilling out of you and onto his length.

“Are you going to untie me now?” Newt breathed out, smiling at you as you sat against him.

“Don’t you want me to clean you up first?” You let your eyes travel down to his cock, biting your lip when you saw his cum slipping off the sides of it.

Newt chuckled, sinking back into the chair with a smug look on his face. “They’re going to fire me if you keep distracting me like this.”


A/N: Can Newt lick whiskey off me, please? Ugh.

dad!alfie snippets | alfie solomons

this ones for @ateliefloresdaprimavera

“There…hang on, they’ve settled. They’ll move again in a minute”

You held his palm against the side of your stomach, squishing your lips to one side as you waited. Your eyes circled around, feeling for the movement.

“Come on, baba. Whenever you’re ready”

“They don’t like me”

“Shut up”

“No, they never move for me! They move for you all the fucking time, the second I walk through the door, they start playing hide and bloody seek. Can you hear me, eh? I’m talking to you,” he wiggled his fingers against the flat of your skin and you cringed at the tickle “playing silly beggars with your dad, I’m not best plea-ah shit”

His hand flung away from your stomach and he held it in front of him, staring down at the spot on your skin where the kick had landed. You raised your eyebrows, laughing at him.

“You alright there?”

“I don’t know if I like that”

“You don’t know if you like it?”


Keep reading

Creepypasta HC #15

Not everyone is straight obviously! These are what I think their sexualities are!

Jeff the killer: Straight

BEN Drowned: Bisexual

Eyeless Jack: Asexual

Ticci Toby: Homosexual

Masky: Bisexual

Hoodie: Bisexual

Laughing Jack: Asexual

Clockwork: Straight

Jane the killer: Homosexual

Bloody Painter: Straight

Judge Angles: Straight

Zero: Bisexual

The Puppeteer: Asexual

With A Kiss | closed

@whydoyouthinkileft continued from (x)

Fitz had been careful all night to avoid mistletoe. He just knew that someone was going to point out some mistletoe over his head and try to make him kiss someone. It was just his luck.

Sally Webber would’ve been keen to try to make him kiss Simmons, which would’ve been horrible in front of a whole room full of people.

It was his mostly closely guarded secret that he wouldn’t be terribly horrified to kiss his best friend. The year before when she’d started following him around, he’d thought she was keen to do the same but it quickly became clear that she had set her sights on having him as a friend and he’d given up the hope that it would ever happen. He didn’t think that he could’ve delivered a very convincing nonchalant kiss, however, if Sally caught him under some mistletoe beside Simmons.

Then she wanted to go and, honestly, he was grateful. He saw Sally and Howard eying the ceiling whenever he moved and it was making him nervous. He’d even avoided the punch so he wouldn’t get tipsy and forget.

They’d sat on a bench to look at the lights and he’d tried to make her laugh about how ridiculous Sally looked with a giant bow on her head.

He could tell that something was bothering her but he wasn’t sure what it was. She’d tell him eventually, if it was important—or so he assumed. He didn’t like to push, she was rather a private person. Of course, he had the same fault but with good reason.

He turned back to look at her and the bright white Christmas lights in the trees were glimmering in her eyes. She looked so pretty and her hair was down instead of up in a ponytail how she always kept it in the lab. She was looking right in his eyes and, though he felt incredibly shy, he didn’t look away.

When it seemed she was leaning closer, albeit very slowly, he could feel his heart speed up and the blood began rushing in his ears. Was she—?

Oh, god, he’d never kissed a girl before in his life! It was going to be disaster.

He couldn’t resist just what he wanted, even if his head was telling him that he probably should. Then he wondered if it was just going to be a chaste, sisterly kiss for a moment—a bit of Christmas charity—but then his eyes were slipping shut and her lips were brushing his before beginning to slide into something far deeper.

For a second, he felt a bit frozen, not sure what he should do but then his lips were moving, mirroring the movements of hers and he brought his hand up from where it was resting on his thigh to cup her cheek. He tipped his head, changing the angle and—bloody hell—it was even better. She tasted of spice and something sweet he didn’t recognize.

Timidly, he let his tongue brush her lower lip. He’d often sat in class or in a study session and found himself absently staring at Simmons’—no, Jemma’s—beautiful mouth. It seemed that it was the sort that poets wrote about. Her lower lip was so very full and shapely, and caressing it lightly with his tongue was the most brilliant thing he’d ever experienced.

He was too hesitant to do more and after another moment or two they parted.

Kissing, he immediately decided, was fantastic

His next emotion, however, was worry. Was Jemma being impulsive? Would she regret that they’d done it? Did she really want something more between them?

Swallowing past the tightness in his throat, he said, “I, ehm,” he cleared his throat lightly, “I was goin’ to ask you if you’d, ehm, ride the train with me to Glasgow and maybe stay for a few days? My mum would love to meet you.”

He had been planning to ask her for two weeks but he’d never gotten up the courage. This was the first time he’d had an inkling that she might say yes.

He looked down at her hand and tentatively linked their fingers together. “Besides, I’d miss you if I couldn’t see you for so long.”

I’ve been enjoying those ‘American Magical Schools’ posts and I ESPECIALLY enjoy all the Native and Black school headcanons but now I propose to you


The first one was in California. Obviously. Obviously.

The next was in New York, back when Chinatown was 5 streets (Mott, Park, Pell and Doyers). The New York Chinatowns ended up taking over after the Chinese Exclusion Act not-so-slowly slowly destroyed the jobs of California Chinese. They might be magical, but white people had their wizards too and they were just as racist as the muggles.

Doyers was known as the Bloody Angle (true fact) from how many people were shot and hacked to death around the sharp bend in the street. It’s true that many died (the streets ran red with blood, they say. They told the police it was pig blood, whenever the police happened to walk by to shake down the folks living there) but more just vanished. Where better to hide an entrance to their schools than around a corner that most are too terrified to even think about, much less watch? It’s perfectly safe for the children. Children are special, children are sacred, children are the future. No one touches children.

(the teachers apparate in)

Children start in kindergarden. Because come on. Magical Chinese parents aren’t any less likely to push their kids to excellence than Muggle ones. Their classrooms are underneath the streets, a huge labyrinth that goes deeper than any subway (although they had to abandon some of the upper floors to make room for the trains, they got to steal lots of abandoned stations after a while)

They teach the lessons in Chinese. Most of the older professors determinedly refuse to learn English. It isn’t just the European schools that are stuck in their old ways. 

Potions take place in certain restaurants since no one wants to deal with trying to air out an underground tunnel when someone inevitably fucks up and adds the kirin scale before the beetle eyes and stuff like like. You know the ones. The little holes in the wall that are always smokey and smell strange and only have one person there who doesn’t speak any English and just hurries you out. Most muggles assume they’re fronts for the Triads. Admittedly, some of them were. Or are. It can be good to have powerful people on your side and magical children aren’t just born to non-criminals. Triad men want their kids to get a good education too.

It was rarer when things were first starting, but nowadays it’s common for families to send their children to muggle schools during the day and magical schools in the afternoons and weekends. Sorry I can’t hang out, the kids tell their friends, Chinese school. Well, it is Chinese and it is a school so… not really a lie. They don’t really need a Muggle Studies professor since there’s not much room in New York to be secreted away from muggles. There is one very very overworked Muggle Studies teacher, but they mostly have to deal with helping magical FOBs deal with the fact that in New York there aren’t any magical communes the likes of Hogsmeade or 神奇的地方. They have Chinatowns and they have old muggle Chinese families who don’t pay any attention to them except to make sure that their money is good and their Cantonese authentic (Mandarin is okay, but village dialects are better. Show that you haven’t lost your roots). The muggle residents may not care that you’re magical but there are too many tourists around to risk being too obviously magical. Yes you can get away with almost anything but insisting to the white people that it’s ‘just how it is in China’ but come on. Someone’s going to figure out that beetle eyes aren’t actually a Chinese delicacy.  

So Long, Stranger Part 2

Title: So Long, Stranger Part 2 (READ PART 1 HERE!)

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count:  2,570

Theme Song: Learning to Breathe by Switchfoot

gif source

Your name: submit What is this?


You sat on the edge of the motel bed staring at the patterned wallpaper in front of you, your eyes crossed a bit making double of the mauve and brown stripes. No tears fell; you’d gotten those all out while you drove. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t remember how long exactly you had driven. Just that you’d ended up here as night fell, figuring it was as good a place as any to stop. Lucky the roads had been empty with your head in the clouds as you drove….had the roads been empty? Your phone vibrated next to you and you reached over, turning it off without looking. You knew what it would say: 26 missed calls from Sam. You shook your head and stood, paced the room once before sitting down again. A knock on the door had you looking up, startled. You slowly approached it, gun in hand that you’d brought in from the glove compartment of your car. 

Keep reading

Some posts from Bastille’s photo diary (at Osheaga) 

This was in the golf kart on our way back after our gig.

Kyle and Will looking totally riveted about talking about themselves in an interview with a Canadian magazine.

That’s us on top of our shipping container back stage room at the end of the night. The festival is right next to a theme park where they apparently have a massively fireworks display every night. It went on for bloody ages.

Another angle of us and the fireworks. Charlie on the left, who plays guitar with us, and two of our crew members. Then Woody and me on the end. Definitely a sober group of people.


Bloody Angle~More Americans died at the Bloody Angle at Spotsylvania, Virginia, in May 1864 than at Omaha Beach on D-Day in 1944

“Their silent tents to spread, And glory guards, with solemn round. The bivouac of the dead.” (Stanza 9)  -Bivouac Of The Dead  By Theodore O'Hara

The First Veteran Volunteers nailed this stanza from the Bivouac of the Dead to a tree near the Bloody Angle. 

The Battle of Spotsylvania, Virginia, in May 1864 pitted 100,000 Union troops against 52,000 Confederates. The fiercest fighting occurred in pouring rain on May 12. For 23 hours straight the two sides fought hand-to-hand in a field near fortifications known as the Mule Shoe, and afterward as the Bloody Angle. 

Portion of Colonel Rufus R. Dawes of the 6th Wisconsin Infantry recalls what happened when his regiment was ordered into it during the middle of the battle.

During the early hours of the night the rain poured down in torrents. Sometime in the night I suspected that the enemy were retreating, and I crawled up with one man and satisfied myself that they had gone. I then ceased firing and my exhausted men lay down as best they could, and some laid their heads upon the dead and fell asleep.

In the morning the rebel works presented an awful spectacle. The cellars were crowded with dead and wounded, lying in some cases upon each other and in several inches of mud and water. I saw the body of a rebel soldier sitting in the corner of one of these cellars in a position of apparent ease, with the head entirely gone, and the flesh burned from the bones of the neck and shoulders. This was doubtless caused by the explosion of a shell from some small Cohorn mortars within our lines. The mortar shell is thrown high in the air, and comes down directly from above. On the morning of May 13th, the men were in a deplorable condition of exhaustion, and I marched the regiment away from the horrible scenes at the “Bloody Angle” and allowed the men to lie down and rest in the woods near at hand.

Source: Dawes, Rufus R. “Service With the Sixth Wisconsin Volunteers,” Chapter 12, page 268.

Photo: Spotsylvania Court House. Body of a Confederate soldier near Mrs. Alsop’s house Library of Congress.

A/N: Because there was a spoiler picture of Killian with his hook back and fic happened. Totally enabled by eatencrow <3


He keeps staring at it.

Eyes and fingers tracing the metal curve, frowning as he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. (He didn’t expect it to feel like this – to hurt like this – to have the memory of two hands seared so fresh into his mind).

The hook is nothing if not familiar, and for that he is relieved…but it’s relief that is masked by something else – something troubled and uncomfortable that sits in his stomach.

“You’re not happy, are you?” Her voice is quiet as she sits down on the sofa beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. She fingers at the rolled up sleeve of his shirt as she waits for his answer – tracing the his forearm with delicate fingers, from his elbow to the point where the skin of his arm becomes the leather of his brace.

The muscles in his left arm tense and he flexes the fingers of his right hand, trying to keep his voice as even as possible as he answers “I’m fine.”

She has an eyebrow raised when he looks to her – a silent indicator of not buying it – and he sighs – knowing further deflection would be fruitless – his lass tenacious at best. Instead he reaches over, taking her hand from his arm and entwining it with his, tangling their fingers together until their palms are pressed flat against each other’s.

Keep reading

The Bloody Angle by Liz Jang

The street cobblers
believed that ghosts traveled in straight lines
so they built these streets angled
to protect it from the likes of you.

The gang members

thought that the angles could hide the terrible sins that we commit against the other sometimes
so they spilled the angle bloody
and made anonymous ghost stories out of scared men.

The irony of fearing ghosts
over men
has not been lost on me,
and I’m sure it hasn’t been lost on you, either.

The white men
said “It was, and is, an ideal place for ambush”
with turns so abrupt
That “not even a slant-eyed Chinaman can see around a corner.”

But even with these slant-eyed Chinaman eyes,
on the corner of Pelle and Doyer,
I thought I saw you.

lost somewhere in the limbo between
death and irony.

with wife (perhaps)
and life (the past).
Not so much ghost,
or even ghost story.
More like sad history,
a genealogical mystery.

a straight edge traveler,
trapped in the sharp angled limbo
Pelle and Doyer.

I thought I saw you.
Gutter Flower Secret Santa!

Sooo, this is a little later than I’d hoped, but I finally finished! I hope you had a nice Christmas @king-killian-jones !!! It’s be absolutely lovely getting to know you over the past few weeks. :-D *hugs*

I started writing some fluffiness for you, (because yay! Who doesn’t love fluff!?!?!?) which resulted in mistletoe, and Killian kinda got a little carried away…and bent the rules… Needless to say, it got a little smuttier than originally planned. I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Underneath the Mistletoe

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Captain Swan

Rating: M

Summary: Killian is really into Christmas, and finds a nice little tradition that he can’t live without.

Emma was trying really hard to keep her irritation at bay. After all, it was his first Christmas, and it was only natural that he would have questions.

But Killian Jones had a curiosity that was never satisfied.

Still, it was sweet to see him so excited about everything. (Even if it took them way longer than necessary to trim the tree. He questioned every last decoration it seemed.)

It was after she asked what kind of holidays he celebrated growing up that she realized why he looked at Christmas with such childlike wonder. Really, she should have guessed. Especially since she knew he didn’t have much of a childhood.

She stopped giving him a hard time after that, and went with the flow when it came to his excitement.

That was when the mistletoe happened.

Keep reading

piinkyuuri  asked:

so this is kind of a stupid question but-- I kind of took a One Direction hiatus in 2012/13ish and I have no idea what Wellington is. And now it's resurfacing and I'm confused can u help me??

Hello sweety :) Sure!

Here we go!

On April 23rd 2012, the boys came out to spend a night in a bar in Wellington.

This a video in which they interact with fans:

What we are interested about, happened at 2.22, when you clearly hear Louis scream “BOYFRIEND!”

Here’s the video of this bloody moment from another angle, the most popular of all:


Because of the poor quality of the video, the larry shippers are going crazy for 3 years now, because the one question that everyone makes is “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?”

Now it seems there is a girl that has the video in high quality (It seems that she has it for years but has always kept secrets) and finally wants to publish it, saying it would be the biggest Larry proof.

Last night came out this photo, apparently from that video

Now you can understand why everyone is going crazy. We are finally discovering the truth?

Personally I don’t know what to think, if it’s true that this video exist or if it’s all a lie. Soon we will find out. (the girl said on twitter that she will post the video at 12pm est)

Anyway, thank you for making me this question, I am honored that you ask me for help, I hope you’ll understand what you needed from this post. By the way, you can watch the other stuff that I have recently repost/post about this situation, maybe you’ll understand better.

Hope you’ll a have a great day! See ya :* <3

(the video and the pics are not mine, credit to the owners)