Color Me Curious
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@irefusetobowdownanylonger
@ JKRowling, i have an important question: was dumbledore a top, bottom or verse?
thats a dumb question. he’s a bottom.
And Gandalf tops him
Also Hermione pegs Ron and you can’t change my mind about that
Wait, Gandalf tops him?
okay but why was he hiding the wand up his sleeve? why not just hand it to him like a normal human being?
Gellert has never done anything like a normal human being in his life. He’s the most dramatic bitch you’ll ever meet.
Newt: hey, i really like your top!
Albus: thanks, his name is Gellert ;)
Newt: …
Newt: oh
Just some Grindeldore from the Screenplay
Newt: So when do you go to bed?
Percy: *on his tenth cup of coffee* Whenever I collapse next is purely up to fate.
Imagine the bromance of one Percival Graves and one Albus Dumbledore.
In my head they’re ennemies!! But pls do elaborate :D
“ I know what you’re doing, Albus,” Percival comments as he takes the offered cup of tea. He sips it without hesitation and places both cup and saucer on the coffee table between them. Poison isn’t Dumbledore’s style.
Albus gives him a clipped smile and blinks as he formulates a different approach. “Director Graves, does it not bother you to leap straight for familiar address upon meeting one’s colleague?”
Percival tsks. A smirk on his face as he folds an ankle over a knee. Albus leans toward him. Posture far more relaxed than his speech. As if he’s only conscious of his words and his body is free to show his guest how captivated he is. On the edge of his seat. An elbow on each kner. Legs spread.
At least Percival is perceptive enough to recognize the lack of lust in Albus’s twinkling gaze. The man obviously has an academic interest in him.
“You’re a teacher and I’m at the top of a nation’s government. We’re not colleagues, Albus.”
“Ah, I suspected you were being patronizing,” Albus says slyly as he finally realizes he’s leaning over the coffee table so far he might as well curl up in Percival’s lap like a kitten. He tugs on the ends of his waistcoat as he straighten his spine. “Does looking down on me make it easier to find the missing boy?”
“Does trying to manipulate me make it easier to live with yourself? If you ask me as a colleague it means you don’t have to sort through my bullshit to become a friend.”
Albus perks a brow. “If you’d prefer a more direct approach…” Albus starts. His body nearly lunging for his own teacup. Americans are always a challenge for his persuasive powers. But this one? An intricate puzzle. One he wants to solve.
“I do.”
Albus stares at Percival as he takes a sip. He holds the cup near his face and seems to savor the scent. He closes his eyes as he inhales. They slowly open as he exhales. He notes that Percival’s eyes momentarily focus on his parted lips. He notes the fleeting but hungry look on Percival’s face. He makes a decision.
His lips curl over the side of his teacup and his eyes lock with the other man’s.
Percival licks his own lips. His arms spread out over the back of his chair. “You think peeking at me from over the top of a fucking teacup is enough of a distraction?”
Albus concentrates on keeping eye contact and not immediately tossing the teacup back on the table. “I don’t know what you mean, Director Graves.”
“For fucks sake, Albus. You want me to bend you over that stack of books back there or what?”
Confronted with the natural progression of his usually unreturned flirtation, Albus balks. Choking on his most recent sip of tea. “No!”
“Alright then. Stop trying to lure me toward where you want me and just give me the damn directions,” Percival claps his hands together and then it’s his turn to lean over the coffee table. He points directly at the professors face. “What the fuck do you want from me? How much is it worth to ya? And no more fucking bedroom eyes outta ya until you’re ready to meet me in a bedroom.”
Albus chuckles into his teacup and looks away from Percival to collect himself. When he looks at the man, again he’s doing his best not to laugh. He finally gives in to the urge and ends up clutching his stomach as he laughs in his guests face.
Percival rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair. When Albus finally collects himself he looks more comfortable than Percival has ever known him to be. He smiles at Percival and shakes the head just a little. “I’ve never been in the presence of such a… forward-moving man. I wish the circumstance of our meeting were different. I’d quite like a friend like you.”
“An asshole?”
Albus shrugs and does not address the comment. “I can give you info on how to find the boy. I know he’s rumored dead, but humor me. For your troubles, I could find you a bearded professor who’s more amenable to the… physicality you spoke of, earlier.”
Percival rolls his eyes. “Finding the kid is not the MACUSA’s priority. But it is mine. I’ll take the info on finding him as payment for itself. …and maybe another tea party once he’s safe.”
OMGGGG Oh I love it!!! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!!!
^^^^ how I feel rn
Great Men In Chairs Part 1.
If Graves had adopted Credence and they were both angry at the world together, living in some dark castle somewhere being bad ass
Percival Graves / Gellert Grindelwald in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them
Oblivious!Antonio is my new favorite thing. He just shows up at Nurmengard:
“Hello hooman! No need to be sad, I am here to protect you again. Let me give you some cuddles so that you’ll feel better. You must have been so scared and sad without me. I’m sorry I took a little fall, but I’m back.”
“But I don’t think I want to, Mr. Graves.”
I cant stop thinking about Gellert Grindelwald being the proud Alpha of two powerful, albeit whiny, Omegas: Albus and Percival. Thoughts?
Oh my goodness what a delicious thought. All I can think of is that even as Omega’s, Albus and Percival have Gellert wrapped around their fingers. One Alpha against all those hormones and pheromones and instinctual triggers?
I just imagine Gellert comes back home one day and finds his two pet Omegas splayed on furniture on opposing sides of the room, either one of them doing utterly lewd things, just to see how torn and crazy they can drive him.
Albus has himself spread out like a meal on Gellert’s favorite wingback chair beside the fire, haunches pinking from the heat of the hearth, legs splayed out wide to hook over either arm of the chair. It gives Gellert a direct line of sight to his weeping, slackening hole – his right hand tracing and widening it to a welcoming gape while his left hand toys with his useless prick, smearing slick everywhere.
But then there’s Percival on the other side of the room, stomach down on the couch as he tugs at a string trailing to his twitching, leaking ass. The moment Gellert’s eyes fall on him – hips raised to show off his leaking dick – Graves begins to tug on the line with a little more force. Slowly, ever so slowly, a great ball begins to emerge from beneath the man’s hole, spreading it lewdly, every millimeter and every second that passes alluding to the fact that it’s quite a large ball he’s managed to stuff into himself and still more yet to go. And Graves whines and rubs his face into the cushions like he’s lost and abortively humps the air like he’s burning for some friction. It isn’t until that large ball – nearly the size of a fist – pops free that Gellert realizes that the line still it trailing into the man’s slowly re-tightening hole, tether to another ball, and another.
“Gellert, love,” Albus whines from his chair, and in the time he spent watching Graves, he’s missed the large glass dildo Albus had conjured and begun to work into his own hole, spreading his hole and leaving it open for Gellert to see up and into the depths of him through the glass; all pink and eager and sopping wet. “Don’t keep me waiting, I’ve been so good for you, so patient.”
Grindelwald finds his feet moving before his head can catch up, drawing him closer to his redheaded lover, only to stagger to a conflicted halt when Graves does nothing more than moans – high and lost and desperate and keening. He turns and sees the man drooling on the couch, mouth slack and ready to be parted by Gellert’s dick, eyes glassy. Graves has never become so lost within his nature before, and somewhere Grindelwald knows Graves is playing to his Alpha nature on purpose, but then his eyes are drawn to the gush of slick that pours out with the removal of the next ball and his dick hardens further, nearly stealing the blood and strength from his knees. He can already feel his knot beginning to puff up.
“Master,” Graves mewls, and it’s entirely unfair.
He takes a step, caught by the pain and heat in Graves’ voice, only to growl in confliction when Albus squirms on his dildo and moans, “Lover dearest, attend to me. Don’t you love your Omega?”
He’s caught between two entirely too clever and too bored Omegas; what was he thinking when he bound them both to him forever?
Please reblog if you are a Gradence blog after the purge
caption this
when the lettuce isn’t organic
After watching the ending of Crimes of Grindelwald.
why
why
Why not??
They had consistent pillow talk
Do you think Grindelwald’s followers ever suspect something weird happened between him and Dumbledore?
Like why is he always bringing up Albus Dumbledore? What’s up with his near encyclopedic knowledge of Dumbledore? Why does he keep 10,000+ pictures and newspaper clippings about Dumbledore in that drawer in his bedroom? 🤔
