#yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssss

[starrynightunova]

HELL FUCKING YEAH

[sweetheaert]

I'm a coward. When I asked about bottom Bri & Roger's humiliation kink, I also meant Roger going wild for Brian's voice which is raw and wrecked and says the filthiest filth idk just that usually soothing cultured voice getting like this gets Roger going. Oh and also fingersucking is goood. UNF. Thank you thank you

[indomitum]

plotted starter // closed verse for @wlfcursed

the infirmary.  ever his enemy at durmstrang were the healers.  they always took too much notice,  too much care,  and touched far too often.  daemon had little reason to suspect they would be any different here,  and so far he’d been right.  since coming to hogwarts for his sixth year,  the teen had bumped elbows with them already a handful of times in the first couple of months of school thanks to quidditch practice. at durmstrang things were a bit rougher in the air,  but beaters and their dreadful bludgers found their mark no matter his experience.   daemon sits at a cot,  sighing through his nose,  waiting as madam pomfrey directs others around him and sees to their ailments.  ears detect other footsteps though,  hair pricking at the back of his neck long before he’s turned to look,  already recognizing their step.  “ madam reed, ”  he greets before looking to her.  madam pomfrey must have asked her assistance.  teeth grit.  there was something there...  since the young wizard first appeared,  it felt as if those grey eyes never left him,  lingered when she thought he wasn’t looking.  it unsettled daemon  --  but what really drew the feeling was his near - certainty he had met her before. stupid,  he thought.  it wasn’t possible  --  she hadn’t been to durmstrang that he could recall.  she must resemble a professor there  --  what he continued to tell himself.  still,  he wished she would stop looking at him that way. at the very least,  the healer learned to accommodate his need for her to be slow and deliberate,  to share aloud her treatments before she performed them.  he never shared why when requesting it in the first place,  but it was likely the source of her stares  ;  the wondering.  daemon hardly met her gaze in an attempt not to give anything away,  or worse find her pity and curiosity there.  “ just another bang - up at practice, ”  he offers, gesturing at the bruises already blossoming at his temple and cheek.  lucky he hadn’t been knocked out, he knew.  the other marks lie beneath his tee shirt,  but the boy is doing his best not to draw attention to any labor in his breaths.  ribs healed with or without magic  --  and he’d have to remove his shirt to have them healed.  illogical.  stupid.  still.

[penwarrior11]

*spends five minutes in the Hinterlands*

*sees the familiar turquoise bell-shaped flower*

*runs screaming toward it*

[hauntedknightwalker]

Gonna go get my hair cut, be back later.