#needy god

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

"I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time." -- Friedrich Nietzsche

Not just wants to be praised, but needs to be praised. Constantly. Or, like a toddler whose lost her binkie, will lose his mind. But a toddler eventually grows up and learns to self-regulate, while an eternal, unchanging god not just doesn't but can't. So religion demands that humans spend our lives mollifying this insane, ridiculous creature, because it can't attend to its own needs.

Sounds pathetic and completely made up.

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Okay look, I know people are gonna characterize Aventurine as the kind of yandere that manipulates everything behind the scenes and is always coming up with ways to try and make his darling unable to rely on anyone but him. But honestly? I can see him as the desperate needy type who needs to have your attention on him, he NEEDS to be the only man you'll ever want and look at, and GOD, he just desperately needs you to own him in his entirety.

He'll do anything to keep your attention on him and make sure that you at least will keep him around long enough for him to enact his plans of keeping you by his side. You want a dog who does whatever you say and will crawl on hands and knees for your amusement? You want a pretty little toy that you can break over and over? You want him to take the lead and make you unable to think or walk anymore? He'll do it, he'll do whatever you want, he'll do anything to keep your attention on him until he can make you his.

[tojisun]

i cant stop thinking about how big konig is my goddd

just him pulling you to his lap, feeling the size difference as he manhandles you so you're perched directly on top of his chub :(( it's thick and heavy as he moves your body so you're rutting on it, and you feel the beginnings of your pleasure simmering underneath your skin, almost engulfing you.

the way konig would hold your waist and you're stumped into silence at seeing his big hands lay flat on your belly because you know they're wide but seeing the extent of how much they span is something else. it's not like you're any smaller and slimmer too, and yet there konig is, holding you literally in the palm of his hands as though he could fold you.

and he does!

just imagine konig fucking you mating press style. the way he'd press your knees so close to your shoulders, exposing so much of you to him as he bears down his weight on you. mounting you.

"so wet for me, little maus," he rumbles, rutting his still-covered cock against your leaking cunt. "always so messy for me. so needy."

you're crying, hiccupped sounds being devoured by his hungry lips. and when he pulls back to gaze at you, you tremble at the possessive look in his eyes. because you and konig may have been together for a while now but he always fucks you like it's his first time staking his claim.

like he's finally caught you, his little prey.

[halemerry]

Okay but like Aziraphale asking Crowley for things isn't just for Aziraphale. In fact it's often something Aziraphale does for Crowley. If Aziraphale asks, even wordlessly, this creates a scenario where Crowley is allowed to do something nice for someone while being allowed to hide it behind the context of an eye roll or an if you insist. It puts a degree of removal between Crowley and the act itself that makes it easier and safer for him to do. Crowley likes to do nice things. Aziraphale knows this. Just like Crowley knows Aziraphale likes to be cared for. They've stumbled this way into this mutually beneficial act where Aziraphale gets to indulge in being indulged and Crowley gets to indulge in doing the indulging - which are both things they do not normally get to indulge in - because they're complimentary even in this.

Asking the being that just quoted poetry at you to save this dying play you're both watching. Creating scenarios for him to rescue you when you know he loves the chance to get to save someone for once. Letting him drive you both around in his fancy new machine he's so delightfully proud of even though you got a license the same year he got the car. Asking him to remove a stain so he can act like you're the dramatic one while taking all the joy in theatrically removing it for you. They're all acts of mutual care and love. Because they're both so hopelessly smitten with another they can't help themselves from indulging the other.

[l0vergirls]

cw: age gap, size difference (ish), bordering on sugar daddy too tbh, nsfw kinda,

there's just something about an older man that absolutely fucking towers over you, but is so sweet and so gentle. to everyone else they may seem far too intimidating to even approach, but if they only tried a bit harder, they'll unveil a whole other world of love and affection.

he adores how small your hands feel in his, and how you have to crane your neck up a bit more to look up at him. he revels in how soft your lips are, and imagines how his must feel against yours. whether he's shaved that day or not, you'll always savour the taste of him, his hands wandering your body before settling on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer against him.

feel free to use his card too, what's his is yours after all. so don't be surprised to find a shiny new necklace on your nightstand, or an expensive dress laying in your bed. don't pay too much mind to the new set of lingerie (in his favourite colour) that he'd laid out for you.

do you feel how much he loves you? just let him take care of you, let him shower you in his love. he can treat you much better than other boys your age can, he can teach you so much more than they can.

oh darling, don't be shy, let him hear the pretty noises you make as he expertly ruts into you; his experience showing in the way he hits just the right spots that have you seeing stars.

he's yours, just as much you're his, right?

[beforeimdeceased]

abby wearing her strap on asking you to ride the bulge and beg her to fuck you and she’s not gonna do it until you sound as desperate as she wants you to…i need a glass of water

[datingclub1]

Catch Me HERE Baby

[azrielfiend]

how many fandoms do you recognize? :3

[hatkuu]

wow no one has mentioned this yet????? ig i’ll be the FREAK to do it: vamp!kylar will absolutely eat the hell out of u when u have ur period 🧛 he can probably smell when it’s approaching too and gets so excited. esp bc he gets so fixated on when ur ovulating so when he knows ur period is coming he’s like a fruit fly and starts rubbing his hands together all giddy like

- 🎀

oh my gosh yes. yes. i was too embarrassed to write about it but. period sex with ANY kylar constantly floats around my brain. vampire kylar would be sucking on his fingers like he'd just ate a drumstick from kfc. finger licking good HAHSJSJAK

afab reader, period sex, period mentions, reader wears a skirt, general creepy kylar stuff., kylar's weird scent kink thing is in this too...

drabble continued utc!

I think the first time you're having a period with your freakish vampire boyfriend around - he's visibly on edge. Kylar's gnawing at the palm of his hand while sitting next to you in the cafeteria, sweating as his other hand grips on the sleeve of his hoodie. You note that he is looking at everything and everyone except you.

You'll reach out to touch him, placing a reassuring hand on Kylar's shoulder.

"Are you okay, Kylar?"

Kylar flinches back like you've just burned him - eyes bulging out of his head as his hands quickly shield his face from view.

"Y-Yes! I-I'm fine! J-Just—"

He peeks at you through his fingers, pupils dilated until only a sliver of green remains.

"—I-It's just really hot i-in here."

You throw him a weird look, rolling your eyes as you stand up from the cafeteria table. You absolutely cannot deal with this shit right now. Being hit with wave after wave of crippling cramps, the last thing you needed was your boyfriend being noticeably disgusted with you. You shuffle awkwardy, trying not to cause yourself more pain as you stand. Does Kylar hate you now? Is he scared of you? Fuck, you don't know if your irritability is stemming from the slick, sticky blood feeling between your thighs or your boyfriend - lost in his own little world - ignoring you when you need him most.

A strangled, panicked sound escapes Kylar as you stand. The hand covering his face reaches outward, snatching your wrist with a disturbing amount of strength. You try to slip out of his grip - upset that now he wants to touch you - but he does not relinquish his hold no matter how much you tug against it. He exhales shakily, his nails dig into you - they've gotten long - really long.

"Y-You can't go— You can't."

You try to pull away with more force, spluttering with confusion as Kylar refutes your struggle with ease. He can't possibly be jealous - you've spent almost the entirety of this week with him - he's staring at you with this horrible, anguished expression. It's the last thing you want to see today. Your bottom lip twitches beneath your teeth, tears pricking your eyes in frustration.

"Kylar! Stop being so weird— What is wrong with you today?"

Your scuffle turn heads. You can feel so many eyes on you, looking at you and Kylar, laughing as they see Kylar's hand is latched onto your wrist. Only then do you notice the gaunt, sickly shade of his face. Heavy, darkened bags rest under his eyes. His lips are chapped too, more than they usually are. Speckled bits of dried blood rest in between the grooves of each crack. Kylar twitches, sweat slicking his choppily-cut fringe to his forehead. He looks ill. He tugs you closer, talking in a low tone that makes your stomach churn.

"You're— You're on your period."

What. The. Fuck.

You don't remember telling him it was that time of the month? How does he know—

"W-What? What does that have to do with anything?"

"J-Just— c-come with me—"

He breathes in shakily, composing himself as his eyes trail up your form, lingering far too long on the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He stands to meet your height, breathing heavily as you flood his senses with a scent that is so undeniably you. Sweet, but not too sweet. It makes his body buzz with a sickeningly fuzzy feeling. His mouth fills with sailva as you hold his gaze, scrutinizing him with your cutely furrowed brows and a jutted-out bottom lip.

"I-I need to tell you something."

You can see the desperation in his expression. His other hand shakes at his side, aching to latch onto you and never let go. Festering like a fresh wound, Kylar's carnal urges get the better of him. His other hand grabs your shoulder, pushing you closer towards his chest.

He smells different. Like dust, dirt and nothing all at once. He doesn't smell like garlic and pepper. Normally, you're assaulted with the scent of the plants - but strangely - it's gone entirely. You look up at Kylar, brows still furrowed in confusion because this is your boyfriend but... something is inherently wrong about him.

Kylar tugs you out of the cafeteria.

You don't struggle.

-

"I-I need to taste you—"

"H-Huh?"

Kylar pushes you into the dilapidated storage closet, slamming the door shut behind him as he grapples you against the wall, panting against your mouth.

"I haven't— You smell so good, a-and I just need this," He cuts himself off, snapping his gaze toward you incredulously from his position against you. He visibly shudders, twitching as he falls forward onto his knees, grounding himself between your thighs. He eagerly tugs your school skirt down, panting as he is met with your panties. "I-I need this. N-Need to feed f-from you— no one else."

"W-What! Kylar! We are in school right now! It'll be too messy a-and it'll get all over you-"

You choose to ignore your boyfriend's weird phrasing of eating you out. 'Feeding' from you is new.

His forehead rests heavy against your swollen uterus - you don't know what he's doing - until Kylar leans closer to your clothed pussy and begins sniffing you. Sniffing you - and moaning like he should have gotten between your thighs the moment you sat next to him in the cafeteria. You squeak, latching your hands in his hair in a pathetic attempt to steer him away from your bloodied thighs. Your tightened grip doesn't deter Kylar. He groans loudly, unashamed as he tilts into your touch, panting puffs of hot wet air against your skin.

"Y-Yes! Oh, y-you have to let me— you smell so perfect, j-just—ah—just let me taste you,"

He's so close, so close to snapping and just biting into the soft skin of your thighs. His eyes dart between your face and your clothed heat. His jaw is clenched tight, gnawing at the skin on the inside of his cheeks. Strained to the last thread of his patience, Kylar lets out a hoarse, weak sound. His fingernails jab painfully into your thighs, carnal desperation evident in each action. Despite this, he looks up to you, teary eyed from the struggle of holding himself back.

"P-Please."

You nod, loosening your grip in Kylar's hair as he practically vibrates with excitement. He tugs down your panties, eyeing the pad that sits at the seat of them as his tongue slides over his bottom lip hungrily. You whine as his fingers nestle themselves against your overly sensitive folds. Slick with blood and wetness, Kylar's fingers prod at your folds, eagerly pressing against the spots that make your knees weaken against his hold.

Kylar's tongue inches out to lave at the smeared blood across your inner thigh, moaning at the taste. He latches onto you, lips forming a tight seal against blood-slick skin, mixing red with clear saliva as Kylar's teeth brush against you. Two particularly sharp teeth nick your inner thigh and you tug his head backward as his fingers continue softly rubbing at your clit. He presses an apologetic kiss to the wound, affectionately licking at the punctures, careful not to let any of the blood spill onto your white school shirt.

"I-I knew it'd be good—" He gasps, his mouth and wet tongue making quick work of your other blood-smeared thigh. "Y-You're so—ah—so, so, delicious, my love."

You blush, opening your eyes to look down at your boyfriend. Kylar's still twitching with excitement, tongue hanging out in anticipation as he nears your pussy. You whine weakly, pulling on his hair as dull throbbing cramps torment your lower abdomen. Kylar smiles at you, eyes much brighter - looking far less ill than before, too. He pulls his fingers away, admiring the sticky sheen of blood that coats them before quickly popping the digits into his mouth and moaning at the taste. He pushes you backward against the wall of the closet, spreading your thighs wide enough for his head to fit snugly between them.

He licks a stripe against the seam of your folds, eagerly lapping up the blend of arousal and blood. Your hands weave in his hair, pushing his nose against your clit as Kylar laves at your pussy, humming as your thighs trap him against your heat. Kylar groans, savouring the sweet, metallic taste of you against his tongue. He pushes closer, nestling his nose against your clit just close enough that with each press of his tongue against your entrance you cry out in pleasure, hands tightening in his dark hair. Kylar fucks you with his tongue until you're sobbing, wrapping an arm around each thigh to hold you firm against his mouth.

He moans as you grind against his tongue, chasing your release that hums deep within your core. Your grinding stutters as the coil burns hot within your stomach, tightening until it snaps.

You cry out as you cum, squirming as Kylar continues to hold you against his face. He groans, lapping up your arousal as it seeps onto his tongue. Your thighs clench against his head, quivering as Kylar slows his licking into gentle, loving laves against your pussy. He smiles as your hands fall from his hair. Kylar presses a loving kiss to your pussy, inching upward to press a kiss against your bloated abdomen as well. Even though he just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life, he's still so intimate with each of his actions, no matter how lewd or messy.

He pulls up your panties, your skirt, and readjusts the rest of your clothes before fixing his own.

Kylar stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then licking up the blood collected on it. He looks undeniably better than before; gone is the sickly tone of his skin, the heavy bags under his eyes, and now his eyes hold a twinkle that doesn't falter. He helps you up with ease, pulling you into his chest and nuzzling into your neck.

"Thank you," He whispers, smiling against your neck, pressing soft, affectionate kisses to the damp skin. You return his embrace even as your legs still tremble from the onslaught of pleasure Kylar gave you. You feel better now. Your boyfriend isn't disgusted at you. Quite far from it, actually. So you'll ignore that his teeth are sharper, that his skin is as cold as a cadaver's, that you swear his eyes were red at one point. He's your boyfriend. His strange, newfound affliction for blood doesn't mean anything. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder, breathing in his new scent of dirt, dust and nothingness. He giggles at your newfound neediness, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

"Let's do this again tonight, okay?"

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Why is a supposedly higher being so fixated on the approval of mere humans? If I was obsessed with making sure the ants under my house adore me, I'd be regarded as mentally ill.

[peachdues]

werewolf!Kyojuro in heat and desperate to knot you. That’s it, that’s the post.

[s1ut4evan]

i need this man in ungodly ways

[path777]

blessing and a curse: #DEAN_SWEEP + s1 dean winchester covered in blood (not his) + an unexplained fuck or die curse. i love the world

-

it was alarming to see dean pull into the parking lot of the motel like a maniac, the impala nearly scratching the next car over as he swerves and parks head-in. something was very wrong - even in the most urgent of emergencies you’ve never seen him treat that car this way. before you knew it he was kicking the door open, hand encircling your wrist tightly.

“dean, what-“ you start, noting the unruly state of his hair- even more than usual- the blood on his face and hands, and a panicked and fussy demeanor that was unlike the dean you knew. “are you hurt? should i-“

at that moment, dean makes a noise that the people in the rooms next to yours definitely heard. it didn’t even seem possible that it came from the man in front of you, a pained but nevertheless obscene moan, his eyes shut tightly as he clutches onto you. it’s then that you notice the tent in the crotch of his jeans, stretching the fabric there tightly. dean looks flushed, pupils dilated and lips parted. he doesn’t quite look embarrassed, just- in a state of unabashed arousal. heat shoots up your spine and your pussy starts to pulse palpably- both of which you ignore.

“listen to me carefully,” dean swallows. his voice is more gravelly than usual, almost hoarse, and laced with desperation. “i’ve been cursed. i’ve been cursed, and-“ he rubs his hand over his mouth, “and i need to fuck you. now.”

“what?” the curse part of it registers, of course it does, but at that moment the gravity of the situation escapes you - you feel hot, you’re in a tank top and sleep shorts but it’s suddenly really, really warm in the room, with dean crowding all up on you and his proposition- no, plea- lingering in the air. is a person supposed to smell this good covered in blood and dirt? and has his neck always looked like that? like- impossibly thick and- inviting?

his grip on your wrist tightens. “are you- are you okay with that, or- i mean, if i don’t come inside someone in, like, 20 minutes, i’m going to die, but you know i-“ he groans, low and guttural, “i don’t-“

“how do you want me,” you say in lieu of an answer, with maybe more conviction than necessary. dean’s eyes are shut tight, and he’s breathing heavily. “dean. how do you-“ but before you can even finish, he’s lifting the hand that he was holding, pinning it above your head against the door. and god, he’s so close to you, and the sweat- it’s so intense and overwhelming, like an aphrodisiac rising from his body, the smell of him enveloping you from all sides.

“is that a yes?” dean says, body pressed flush against yours now. you feel so heady, and his weight on you, hot and heavy, feels crushingly good- “i need a yes. please. please.” he’s looking right into your eyes, the tips of your noses nearly touching. but though he’s asking, you can feel his hips moving- twitching, almost, like it’s out of his control.

a beat passes and his hips jerk upwards, dragging his cock against your thigh. dean moans, though he stops himself almost immediately, biting down on his lip hard enough that you think it might start bleeding. “fuck- i’m sorry, it’s-“

“dean, stop- yes. god, yes- please,” you interrupt him to answer, tugging at the waist of his jeans with your free hand. he lets go of you briefly to unbuckle his belt. you couldn’t help but stare at his underwear then, at the wet spot on the front of it and the string of something sticky connecting the fabric and tip of his cock as he pulled the garment off.

you feel his cock between your thighs, the head of it so wet that he isn’t worried about chafing. it ruins your shorts, now sticky with dean’s precome, and he buries his face in your neck mouth open- tongue laving over your scent and sweat. he licks his lips- he seems more like himself now.

“should i- um, finger myself, or-“ you start, voice too breathless for your liking. next thing you know, after all this, he’s gonna accuse you of falling in love with him.

“i don’t have any lube- is that-“ he stops abruptly as his hand reaches into your underwear. his fingers swipe over your pussy- soaking through the fabric- and a self-satisfied look washes over his face, “i mean, obviously.” you almost roll your eyes but his lips are crashing against yours for the first time- you’re so painfully aware of everything about it; you want to brand this memory into your mind- the feeling of those lips, that impeccable cupid’s bow, perfect, full, pink, plush-

his lips are parted now, tongue darting into your mouth wickedly, and how he’s managing to do that in a situation like this is beyond you.

then your panties are at your ankles and there’s two fingers in you, thick and skilled- it draws a gasped whine out of you, the sudden stretch of him inside, twisting and curling at all the right spots.

“that’s it, sweetheart, come on- loosen up for me,” he says, almost under his breath. you can feel his impatience, rightfully there. but somehow he doesn’t feel rushed- just desperate, a little sloppy, and maybe even needy. “you’re so fucking wet.”

“dean,” you whimper, squirming under his touch. “dean, just fuck me, come on-“ it’s too soon and you know it, but the begging escapes you anyway- you feel white-hot, and the sensation of his fingers inside you are somehow electrifying, reverberating through your whole body. it’s something about his desperation, the fact that he needs you, needs his cock inside of your cunt-

“this whole thing is bad enough for you, i don’t want to hurt y-“

“and if i want you to?”

his lips quirk up, the first thing closest to a smile you’ve seen since he kicked open that door. “is that how it is?” his fingers start to move faster, your slick by now surely dripping down from the tips of his fingers if the lewd, wet sounds of squelching are anything to go by. “didn’t know that about you.”

you bristle. “there’re lots of things-“

“-i don’t know about you. yeah, alright, princess,” dean finishes for you. “let’s focus on me, now, yeah?”

but you can’t even let that simmer in infuriation because he immediately adds another finger, making it three digits that are readying your cunt for his cock, that are brushing the spot inside you that make your toes curl. it’s not long before dean decides that’s all you were gonna get - he has a deadline to meet, after all.

he pulls his digits out of you, coated in slick. he licks at it a little, just a dart of the tip of his tongue on his skin. god, the cheek, it’s just unbelievable- dean grins, lines his cock up, and-

he bottoms out in one thrust, the stretch hurting for a split second before it dissolves into a tautness in your cunt from being stretched too wide, too fast. you gasp, fingers splayed on the back of his neck. “dean, dean-“ you whimper, “that’s- oh- slow down, slow-“ he’s relentless; after the first thrust in, he sets an impossible rhythm and it’s driving you crazy. the noises falling from your lips are constant, an endless stream of moans and whines, begging for him to have mercy, or perhaps to make you come already.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he sounds wrecked now, “fuck.” and he keeps pounding into you fast, like he’s trying to go even deeper with every single thrust. the grip he has on your waist is bruising, the pain adding to the pleasure of his cock.

“this is,” dean pants, “such a bad time to have incredible stamina.” oh, this is so not the time.

“dean fucking winchester, i’m going to-“

“oh yeah, that’s it, talk dirty to me-“ but this only goads you,

“-put a gag in your fucking mouth!“ your voices overlap and you’re both breathing so heavily; you feel his hips stutter ever so slightly at your words, before he shuts his mouth and returns to his original rhythm.

“oh, you fucking freak,” you whisper, “you wanna be gagged? can’t ever shut your goddamn trap so you need a bit to drool around, isn’t that right?”

dean falters then, but he’s red, so red, so you take it as a good sign. “next time, princess.” you say scathingly, teasingly- the same way he said it to you just earlier. “next time, i’ll shove my panties in that hole of yours, how’s that sound?”

those green eyes are burning into yours, with equal parts desire and anger. he opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again. his mouth opens again, but-

“fuck, dean- you’re bleeding,” you reach your hand up to his face, thumb brushing gently under his nose, smearing his blood over your fingertip.

dean lifts his finger to his philtrum. he stares at the blood for a beat, and that intense look that was in his eye dissipates. “are you on the pill?” he asks you suddenly. it beings you back to reality a little.

“right, you- right.” you swallow. “yeah, it’s fine.” he nods.

“just so you know… i’d like that.” dean looks away, his hips picking up speed again. “or. i’m not opposed to it. i guess.”

oh, this is just precious. “sorry, i’m not following. is this still about the- the gagging, with my-“

“shut up,” he hisses, licking his top lip clean where a drop of blood had reached from his nose.

“ask for it properly,” you say, breathless- because after all, he’s still the one driving into your cunt like there’s no tomorrow - literally. “use your words, dean.”

dean groans. “i- i-“ his thrusts are irregular now, chasing his high, “want you to gag me, shut me up-“ his noises aren’t stopping, now, either, driving you both to the crest. “i’m close, i’m close- fuck-! want- in my mouth-“ he says brokenly, still unable to get all the words out.

“they’re gonna get wet with your spit, dean, and then i’m gonna make you wear them-“ and dean comes right then with a cry, pressing hard up against your ass, cock spurting hot inside of you. your cunt squeezes around him, spasming as you come down from the high.

his face is buried in your neck again, but you don’t need to see his face to feel the embarrassment radiating off of him.

you both start at the same time,

“at least you’re not dead.” “not. a. word.”

[introspectivememories]

i think tim is possessive in the way that he wants to monopolize bernard's attention but bernard is possessive in the way that he wants to monopolize all of tim's emotions. like if tim could he'd replace all the breath in bear's lungs with his own so with every exhale, bernard would only think tim, tim, tim. but bear wants to be the sole recipient of tim's emotions. he wants to keep every smile, every tear, every frown to himself. he wants all of that to only be his. but tim belongs to so many people unlike bear who only belongs to tim. so he settles with the way tim laughs so hard that he snorts, at his corny jokes, at home. he settles with the frown that appears on his face as he works out the kinks in a new WE proposal. bernard lets himself be content with the way tim looks when he's hovering over him -- flushed and panting, tears building up in the corners of tim's eyes. at least this, he thinks reaching out to caress his boyfriend's face, at least this is mine. only mine.

[lokischickadee]

We need more sub Loki!! Here is your inspiration!!

[azumasoroshi]

i have no idea what episode this is

cannot believe the sexual tension here actually

dude i dont really have a preference between the original and the later anime art styles but damn does shizuo look good in that shot. like normally he's funni angry man but bruh my heart skipped a beat when he grinned.

someone in the comments was like 'why does shizuo look so excited when izaya drops the knife from his sleeve' and it made me choke. he does look kind of excited doesnt he. this really is their foreplay

part 2 will be linked in a second because im trying to shorten my post lengths pfff

anywaybaby girl looks so ugly in these shots

(edit: this is episode 16 of durarara season 1 ty @/pineapplething)