#.queue

[moonclans]

A lovely modern Alicent Hightower commission from @hazwqste!

[miscedefined]

hello! this is miscedefined, a miscecanis / omegaverse blog run by @mawchine. (it/its.)

inspired by blogs such as @omegai and @omegarchive , this blog is meant to "define" niche misceverses and help provide clarification on what certain omegaverse terms might mean! this is not meant as some unequivocal definition on what a 'verse is, just some suggestions on what it might mean.

i also hope to make a carrd to catalogue terms, but that's a project for much later. i'll try to post once or twice a week, at least.

[multiwreckedmess]

Oral Freedom

We will get back to dom! idol in another Ateez post after this (i actually have several as that’s my personal preferred position) but honestly idk that this has any particular dynamics. Sorta maybe??? Either way welcome back to my drabble/imagines/focus series “To All The Dicks I’ve Sucked Before” aka #TATDISB

Pairing: I.N (Jeongin) x reader Genre: Smut, basically PWOP. WC: ~1.1k

As per usual, this does not represent IN/Jeongin, it is a work of fiction. All specific warnings are below the cut. I’ve tried my best to make this as gender neutral as possible but as always i am learning. I’m a cis-woman so i default to this naturally but try my best to leave pronouns at the door.

By clicking the read more you are aware and agree to the above and reading 18+ content.

-

-

TW: Free Use, somnophilia, perv!jeongin who tries to act innocent, mostly build up, implied consent (not detailed is a conversation about boundaries but it’s referenced)

-

The red cord wrapped around your wrist was your idea. Small and unassuming, easily written off as a reminder bracelet or small token from a friend. Easily hidden from outsiders not privy to your agreement. 

The agreement was also your suggestion despite Jeongin. He knew he had a higher libido than most and he hated it. It wasn’t fair how even the smallest things would leave his hormones raging and blood rushing to his groin. The way you’d rub your face against the pillow as you woke up, your smell especially if you hadn’t showered yet, once even popping a boner from you stroking the knuckle of his thumb as you held hands. You really didn’t mind it, you just liked being wanted.

Free use.

You’d wear some small signal to him that he could indulge in whatever he pleased (within your rules) during the time when the item was worn. Without asking. That was important. His constant need to jerk off left him anxious to ask for your consent. Of course he’d never ever do anything without talking to you first but what was too frequent or too forceful or too...horny? The questions would swirl around his mind until he’d get so stressed out he’d get hard and have to run off to the bathroom to take care of it anyway. And you’d noticed this. It was difficult to hide the fact that you noticed it. Trying to cover his frequent dashes into other rooms with jokes about how he should go to a proctologist to get looked at or an allergist to get tested. No matter how many times you assured him that you found him sexy, handsome, attractive and that you wanted him to fuck you, it didn’t seem to sway his nerves.

You’d seen it mentioned a few times and it seemed like the answer to your prayers. No more asking, just a quiet reassurance that your body was fair game to his fantasies. It would be a relief to both of you. 

It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon that you’d spent lazing around in your pjs, an oversized shirt and microshorts, hair pulled back away from your face. Jeongin sat on the opposite en of the couch, attempting to play a new video game release. Instead he found himself watching you. Squirm, thighs rubbing and tensing together with a small whine with your face buried into the pillow. “Sounds like fun,” he thought, smiling to himself. It also didn’t escape his dick, twitching slightly in his PJ pants. He tried to refocus on his Switch, maybe it would be a funny story to tell you later. The balls of your feet pressed into his thigh as you turned yourself, distracting him again, rolling onto your belly with one knee propped up near your hip. Shorts falling open he could just see the growing wetness pooling at your crotch.

Jeongin gulped, adam's apple bobbing forcefully. Cock twitching again against his thigh, tent obvious in his pants, he tries to balance the handheld in one hand, propping the opposite side against his knee while his free hand palmed the leaking head of his erection. He swears to himself that he can get through it without jerking off. He really doesn’t want to have to make a dash to the bathroom. If you just settle down really the boner will eventually go away if he can just focus-

Jeongin thinks someone be it god or fate, must be playing a cruel joke on him. Flipping yourself onto your back with a loud moan your hand comes up to your chest, fingers splaying over a hardened nipple just poking through your soft cotton shirt. Transfixed on your fingertips his cock gives him another forceful pulse.

And that’s when he sees the little red strand tied to your wrist, pushed up your forearm in the violence of your tossing and turning but there nonetheless. 

He shudders. Your lips look beautiful in the early afternoon light. When had you even thought to put that little signal on? His game lays discarded on the ground next to the couch as his fingers dip below his elastic waistband to fist his aching member. Throbbing with his heartbeat he can’t believe how hard he is already. Don’t waste this opportunity, this moment that the start aligned, he chides himself.

Carefully he slides off the couch and pads up towards where your torso lays, barely able to control his excited breaths. His entire body tremors pulling his pants down just enough, cock jutting outwards from his pelvis, hovering over your sleeping form. Jeongin bites his lower lip, nearly tormenting himself watching the tip float so close yet so far from your loosened jaw. One hand stroking himself he grazes the thumb of his free hand gently over your lower lip, seeing how wide he can coax you. He slides his digit in easily, your entire body pliant to his touch, mouth wet and warm and waiting to be filled. Squeezing the base of his cock he prays he doesn’t cum right then.

Placing a hand on the back of the couch to stabilize he holds his breath as he places his length just barely grazing your plump lips, a groan catching in his throat.

You moan and wiggle, mouth briefly closing into a small kiss before hinging back open. Jeogin sharply pulls away in shock, heart beating wildly in his chest, ready to bolt as though he’d done something wrong.

Of course he’d done nothing wrong, you were wearing your signal. It was fine for him to do this. It was fine for him to take advantage of your soft sleeping body. You wanted him to take advantage of your vulnerable state. Little did he know the pain of unfulfilled orgasms you were experiencing, unable to escape your erotic dreams.

Composing himself he resumed his position, slowly sliding the underside of his shaft against your lips, teasing himself. Angry red turning nearly purple with engorgement his brain finally shuts off, giving over to his animal needs. Granting himself permission to fully enjoy the gift you wore on your wrist. Lining himself up with your mouth he coaxes the head in just enough to fuck himself against the inside of your cheek. Moaning, watching your cheek bulge out and suck in as he thrusts, he doesn’t care anymore that you stir under him, eyes hazy with sleep. He chases his high with wild abandon.

“Just be a good slut and take it, okay? Take it for me.” 

[therianonymous]

i’m not necessarily alterhuman, just a guy with autism that led me to be socialized just as much by the cats i grew up with as i was by the humans. i have a lot of catlike behaviors that mostly show when i’m happy or comfortable, and luckily my partner has a compatible brand of autism and understands me. still… i don’t think they would appreciate it very much if i gave in to the instinct to groom by repeatedly licking them whenever we cuddle and get comfy. i keep having to do it to myself instead to sate the urge 💔

.

[octavianacidicbreastmilk]

Phaedra's Love by Sarah Kane

[il-mostrc]

A few books scattered about at the base of the bed: Spanish learning and cultural references. Even so much as a cookbook that Hannibal knew would gather dust before long. What he wouldn't do to have his old recipes that he fondly went over in their box. He'd had to rebuild his rolodex of the rude. Over the years he lived in Baltimore, he assembled his 'ingredient' list to a thick collection.

All are lost now.

He had been working with Will (@devilswill) for the last forty-five minutes to roll his 'r's properly. He was a fan of linguistics--the science of language. The many he had fluently learned was enough to declare it. "I had always enjoyed your use of Latin." A slanted smile surfaces across his face. "You are doing well with this." Amber eyes shifted to the watch he wore on his wrist—the arrows spoke silently about how late it was. The book is shut, and he leans forward to gather all the scattered tomes they have gone over.

The moment Will inquired that request, he paused the shuffling, one still lingering in mid-air from the growing stack. "I will do whatever you request of me." The tome is placed on top of another, and his eyes never stray from Will's. "... What are you requesting?" The lingering speaks louder than any Spanish speaking word that was uttered tonight. Hannibal refuses to move the books to the other side of the room until he gets his answer. His posture is stagnant, his longer legs are stretched out, ankles crossed over another. His body is propped up a few pillows.

He's not going to miss even one clue.

It wasn't uncommon for them to visit one another's rooms. Usually it was following discussion. There was never a dull moment in their talks and they traveled far and wide. Ever the recluse in his heart of hearts, Will was often the one to depart for his own dwelling first but never without telling Hannibal goodnight. Tonight though he lingers on the side of the bed. He knows all he has to do is ask. "These dreams.. maybe they won't be so bad, whatever they are if I have help with them. Will you help me.." and the magic word he knows he wants to hear. "..please?"

[enjomo-arch]

𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 go  to  pinterest.com  and  enter  your  character  name+core  and  post  the  first  nine  pictures. ( i had to find the pics )

tagged: @futurepiratekiing , @3katanas tagging: @isutoburu , @vonerde , @vulpesse , @todestochter & you !!

[orange-oracy]

I never care how people view me or if people stop liking me, but the thought of losing them scares me more than almost anything

[foraltruism]

"Mmmh, there's not enough food in the kids meal...but I really want that limited edition toy... I suppose it's a little childish to be into Precure anime still, but I really like it. Ahh, maybe I'll get something from the kiosk later."

[moonclans]

you must find your own rising: swallow your death down. drown in the consumption of opposites.

Jaisha Jansena, from “rhododendron,” published in Yes, Poetry

Alicent Hightower commission by @patsu_x

[teenagerebellion]

view my blog as a website

header by @ellasxl on twitter

hii. call me rib (she/he 18 est)

i like fantasy high, neverafter, a crown of candy, and im currently watching starstruck :)

please reblog my art if you like it <3 my ao3

fandom as a community is something that’s really important to me. i send a lot of asks/reply to people in tags, and generally just believe that reblogging/spreading/talking about the things we create is how we can keep fandom alive and flourishing. so please don’t hesitate to send an ask talking about whatever you want, send me a post, dm me, or tag me in things! mutuals can also ask for my discord :)

if we’re not mutuals and you’d like to be, just showing up in my notifs consistently and/or talking to me will pretty much always do the trick!

as a rule this blog is generally NOT a spoiler free zone. // I WILL NO LONGER BE TAGGING REBLOGS WITH #FHJY SPOILERS !! //

also! i will talk about shipping on here! the more explicit stuff i will tag with #shiptalk, so feel free to block that if you don’t want to see it.

and along with the above: don’t like, don’t read; block liberally; curate your own experience; and above all, make sure you’re having fun.

[wrestleicons]

[consvlting]

“𝑀𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡. 𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒; 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑙𝑒; 𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑. 𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑚𝑒, 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑛, 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚, 𝘩𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒?” ― 𝐴𝑟𝑡𝘩𝑢𝑟 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑛 𝐷𝑜𝑦𝑙𝑒, 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒 𝑆𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑠: 𝑉𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑒 𝐼𝐼

[shai-manahan]

oh hey happy birthday

for any character right?

Need for Vincent thanks

need: has your OC ever experienced desperation? how has it affected them? what do they do when something they need is out of their reach?

of course you're asking this one.

Vincent has been in a state of desperation (for a choice he cannot make) ever since he's lost someone important to him, and he never really properly got through the grieving process the way he should have. He succumbed to alcohol and self-endangerment, although he was eventually able to let go of the latter when he had to take care of Alex and Ripper. For now, all I can say is there's no limit he wouldn't go past until he gets to where he needs to be.

His desperation is a dangerous thing for those against him.

:)

[octavianacidicbreastmilk]

looking at any marriage in tv like. okay what is the most beautiful and special angel the lord put on this earth doing today. and her sad sack of shit husband is there too ig

[il-mostrc]

There was no easing a burn.

Even the movement of air triggered the nerve endings that were damaged to flare and trigger the body's response to pain. At the time, Hannibal refused to let Mason and his lackeys see the pain that riddled just under the surface of his expressions. Hannibal could disperse pain if he knew it would be implemented on him. The near meditation-like state of mind allowed him to retract his senses, lost in the inky blackness of the many rooms. Lawrence was in quite a few of them now; he visited him then while words of a slow death were whispered in his ear.

With eyes closed, he lifted his head from the resting side position, balancing his chin on his forearm. The new sensation of Lawrence's (@bloodypuzzle) fingers drew him from those memory doors, his senses returning to a soft voice of reason. His head was lifted, causing those fingertips to comb through deeper.

"No."

Trophies were what psychopaths used for gratification. While Hannibal harvested organs only for consumption, he found this brand on his body a part of his life. A ground reminder of what he had endured to close out the thought of a future free of anything else. There was a future that he intended to aim for. They worked in unison to bring down the King of Pigs. This was their triumph. Hannibal doesn't go into much detail as to why he'd rather keep it on his body.

Lifting himself, he perches on the edge of the gurney. They found their time spent in this basement starting to invade their life more and more. This is where the disposal of Lawrence's victims was sent. This is where the harvesting was made.

And this was where the wounds were licked with one another.

A hand reaches up to grab Lawrence's wrist, bringing the knuckles to graze the surface of his lips. "I'm fine, Lawrence."

A smile. Lawrence knows his own words.

Lawrence had asked Hannibal to lay on his stomach. It was easier this way. A quick wash with sterile saline solution, a few gentle pats with a clean towel, and a fresh square of non - stick bandage. He cleaned the angry wound on his husband almost mechanically, blue eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Once he was finished, he set his crude equipment on the nightstand. Lawrence's fingers returned to Hannibal's back, following the fluid muscle of it up to Hannibal's neck. "I could cut it out," he finally said, voice soft. His fingertips wormed their way into Hannibal's loose hair and began to leisurely play with it. "I have done far larger on my players and sewn it successfully. At the very least . . . " Lawrence's voice broke for a moment, but he moved past it by clearing his throat. "It would not be difficult to remove the name." So no one would ever know, he would say. That was the polite answer, but they both knew the real one. Lawrence hated the fact that someone else had marked this body, this temple at which he made his professional and personal offerings — and Verger's brand was far more permanent than anything that Lawrence had ever done, even in their most passionate exchanges. The ring on Hannibal's finger could only soothe so much.