#<- person reading this absolutely no matter who

[muchosbesitos]

BODY PAINT

the plan for your birthday had been to just go get a tattoo. so how’d you end up getting eaten out too?

pairing: tattoo artist! geto suguru x fem reader

contents: modern au/no curses, pierced/tattoed geto, cunnilingus, pulling his hair, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it 🫵🏼), doggy, pet names (pretty girl, cutie, etc.), sucking his fingers, spanking (once), creampie, sorta kinda public sex?

author’s note: basically just a big self indulgence fic

word count: 5.8k

Portraits and portraits of art pieces covering the walls welcomed you as you stepped inside, the jingle of the bell perched on the front announcing your entrance. From dragons to variations of skulls—some with roses, lightning, and a couple of the grim reaper. You could easily lose yourself looking at all the different works, staring at how all the different lines came together and how the colors melded into one another.

“What're you looking for today?" A low baritone voice interrupted your brief exploration of the parlor. You turned to see a man standing at the counter with pigtails, a black line going across his nose and a couple piercings scattered across his pale face. How was it that you'd missed him upon walking inside?

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo, do you guys happen to accept walk-ins?" You responded, coming up to the counter where the man was standing. Choso, from what his name tag read. "We do, our current tattoo artist's busy though. You mind waiting about.. twenty minutes?"

You supposed it wasn't too bad after showing up without an appointment so you just simply nodded, going over to take a seat in the lobby. There was only one other person sitting on the end of the black sofa, their attention purely on the show playing on the TV mounted on the wall. You went from playing with your fingers to looking over at the TV, attempting to do anything that would make these twenty minutes pass by.

"Hey, go ahead and fill this out. And let me see your ID," Choso came back with a sheet of paper, a consent form. You fished for your ID in the back pocket of your jeans before handing it over to him, starting out with the task of filling out the paper. Signing your initials where it asked you to, reading through the different medical conditions that the paper explicitly listed out.

Your foot bounced against the floor as you waited, sudden nerves starting to hit you all at once now that you were in here. You knew that you wanted a tattoo, you'd been looking forward towards getting it for a few months now. But the little nagging voice inside your head told you that you could barely tolerate a needle at the doctor's office, and that was only for a couple seconds in of itself. How would you tolerate almost an hour of it?

A woman walked out from the back of the parlor, a tattoo of what seemed to be her birth year wrapped up in cling wrap. But your attention was quickly diverted to the man coming out after her—though, you supposed it would be hard not to stare at him. He was absolutely.. gorgeous. Long dark black hair that practically seemed to shine underneath the harsh lights tied back in a half bun, eyebrow and snake bites piercings accentuating the features of his face, and dark ink adorning his forearms.

"Here's the aftercare sheet, just shoot me a text or something if you have any concerns or anything," the man told the woman before she stepped away from the counter, handing her a white paper. The jingle of the bell echoed behind her as she left, leaving only the four of you alone in the lobby. Maybe this wasn't who Choso was talking about? You couldn't picture yourself or your panties for that matter lasting hours in a room with him.

Though, you probably should've expected as much with your luck.

"You got time for a walk-in?" Choso spoke up, nudging his head towards you when the other man was finished pocketing his tip. The man glanced over at you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through it for a couple seconds. "Yeah, I got time," the other man walked over, standing in front of you before extending a hand out, "Geto Suguru." The coldness from the silver rings adorning each of his fingers was a stark difference from how warm his hand seemed to be. You gave him your name, stopping the handshake before it prolonged more than it should've.

More than it already did.

"So, what type of tattoo were you looking for?" Geto pushed his hands in his pockets, standing back to allow for you to get up from the spot. "I'm not too sure how to describe it, but I have a reference photo, if that's okay?" You told him, getting your phone out to go back to your camera roll. "Yeah, that's fine. Just airdrop to me when you find it."

The smell of antibacterial spray filled your nose as you stepped in, the room somehow been more decorated than the one outside. Geto had a couple of his designs up on the wall along with a couple band posters—Nirvana, Iron Maiden, and Led Zeppelin being some of the more prominent ones. A couple figures placed on a shelf, photos decorating them as well.  "Go on and take a seat. I'll be right there," he told you, opening up one of his drawers.

You took a seat on the leather chair in the middle of the chair, leaning against it before looking over to see what he was doing. "So.. how bad is it supposed to hurt?" You decided to ask, bracing yourself for the worst answer that he could give you. Despite the fact that you knew arm tattoos weren't all that painful from the two hours of research you'd done. "I can't give you a straightforward answer since not everyone has the same pain tolerance. But I'll walk you through the process before I start."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is shave your arm," Geto started off, opening up a pack of razors in front of you. Almost like he wanted to reassure you that everything he was using was new. "Around what area do you want the tattoo?" You opened your arm, gesturing around your inner forearm. Geto shaved the hair around the middle, wiping the residue away with a tissue.

"Next thing I'm gonna do is rub some alcohol on there and put on this cream," he brought up a small container into your line of vision, "It's not numbing cream before you get any ideas. Just so the stencil sticks." The rest of the process had gone relatively fast, the smell of rubbing alcohol filling up the space between the two of you. Geto placed the stencil on your arm, looking over at you to gauge your reaction. "Is this placement okay or do you want me to change it? Don't hesitate to ask, since y'know.. it is kinda permanent."

After a couple minutes of deliberation, Suguru placed the stencil where you’d decided. "So I'm gonna go ahead and put the needle on your arm just to go ahead and see if you can tolerate it," the machine whirred to life with the press of a button, "If you don't think you can tolerate it, just let me know and I'll wipe off the stencil." Geto turned around to face you, the buzzing of the tattoo gun getting louder the closer it got to your arm. All the nerves that you'd felt earlier seemed so silly now. While you felt the pressure of the needle , it was nothing like the excruciating pain you'd heard others have.

You cleared your throat before looking back over at him again, "Yeah, I can handle it." Suguru simply nodded, uncapping the bottle of black ink before almost filling up the small container in front of him. He arranged the small containers almost perfectly aligned to each other, the small work space that he'd set in front of him looking meticulous. Even the napkin that he'd grabbed was neatly folded up in three squares.

You'd almost wished that it was Choso doing the tattoo instead. Because, this, well this simply just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how he managed to look so goddamn pretty just doing the most menial of tasks. The almost intoxicating scent of amber from his cologne filling up your senses with how close he was. You weren't sure if was better or worse for you that he didn't notice just how affected you were, of how much his presence alone was making you want to ditch the whole idea of getting a tattoo.

"You need something to help you relax? I got a couple stress balls hanging around or I could play something on the TV if you want," Suguru sat down on the rolling chair next to you, already grabbing the TV remote next to you. "Can you just play something, please?" Geto flickered through a couple of the channels available, settling on what was on the TV mounted outside. Not particularly your first choice, but enough to get your mind off the tattoo, at least.

And to get your mind off the very attractive man next to you trying to do his job.

"So, any meaning behind this tattoo or you just decided you wanted to get it?" Suguru broke the silence, though his focus was purely on tracing the piece of work in front of him. "Just saw it on Pinterest and I related to it a bit. Well, that and the design itself seemed pretty to me," you offered, staying still and keeping your attention on the TV. "I can follow the design that you showed me or I could try to improve on it. That is, if you have trust in my abilities," he spoke up after a couple seconds, purple eyes almost seeming to bore into you.

"Can I see some of your abilities in place?" As hot as the man was—you didn't want to risk the tattoo coming out like complete dog shit. Suguru let out a short laugh, getting up from his spot before flipping through a couple drawers. He came back with a leather bound sketchbook, placing it on your lap. "I'm not much to show my works to others, but feel free to flip around if that helps you decide," you opened up the sketchbook with your available arm, immediately being greeted with a plethora of colors.

Not only were the pieces themselves better than what you could've expected, but they were so realistic. The shading of each drawing accentuating it perfectly against the lighting of the room, almost like he'd focused on that more than the actual drawing. You shut the sketchbook after flipping through a couple pages of different flowers, animals, and whatever else his brain could conjure up—handing it back to an expectant Geto. "It'd be wrong not to have faith in you after seeing that," you mused, watching him set the sketchbook aside before he went back to tracing.

"Don't worry, I'm still gonna follow the whole outline and shit. Just wanna make it look a little bit better is all," he responded, dipping the needle onto the container of black ink before bringing it back to your arm. You turned to look at much progress he'd done after the forty minute episode had ended only to realize he was just finishing up with the tip of the design. An incredibly detailed tip, though. "You okay? Don't want you passing out on me or anything."

"No, I'm fine," you reassured, going back to watching the TV in the comfortable silence that had built in the room. The only sounds emanating from the room were the soft whirring of the tattoo gun and the screaming of a couple characters on screen. "Have you watched this before?" You decided to break the silence after a while, turning to look over at him. "Something like that. Haven't watched much after the fourth season. Don't really have a buncha time available to watch TV."

The rest of the session had gone moderately well, the two of you sitting in silence for a majority of the time albeit for a couple questions that either he or you asked. He was, oddly enough, easy to talk to. "Okay, I'm gonna go in with a white paint. It's gonna hurt more than the other one so just tell me if it gets to be too much," he told you, pouring white paint into one of those small containers. And you felt the difference between the two, looking over to see him adding small marks with the white paint. Small marks that were starting to hurt like a motherfucker.

"Easy, you did so well for me throughout the session. This is nothing compared to that," Suguru spoke up, raising the tattoo gun to give you a small break. One of his gloved hands went to the furrow settled in your brow, gently easing it over before changing out the gloves for a fresh pair. You weren't even sure when you'd even started to grimace so badly. "Easy for you to say," you grumbled underneath your breath, certain that he wouldn't have caught it. But if the way his eyes shot up to look at you with a slightly amused smile was anything to go by, he did.

"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Geto muttered, turning the tattoo gun back on and going back to adding the fine white strokes. Maybe it'd been the fact that he'd offered that small bit of reassurance or maybe it was the fact that you could feel the session was starting to come to an end, but the pain didn't quite feel as bad as the first go. "Alright, we're all done," he spoke up after a couple minutes, turning the tattoo gun off and placing it on the table next to him.

"You mind if I get a couple pictures?" He waited for you to nod before setting up the ring light next to you, pulling his phone out. You extended your arm out to where he had the camera pointed, the tattoo on display. "Mm, hold on," Suguru muttered to himself, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist to adjust the angle. His touch almost seeming to linger more than necessary. Surely, all of this wasn't necessary just for a single photo, right? Especially when you weren't even the subject of said photo.

"You're gonna want to avoid shaving or waxing the area while it's still healing, some peeling's normal but just come to me if you have any concerns," he continued to explain the process of the aftercare involved, wrapping the tattoo up in cling wrap. "Try not to fuck it up," Geto led you over to the front desk, ringing you up for the price. "Wasn't it $120 and not $100?" You questioned, grabbing your wallet from your pocket.

"Consider it a birthday discount of sorts, pretty girl," the nickname spilled out so easily that you might've almost missed it. As if you needed more things to overthink about from this encounter. You handed him a hundred dollar bill with a ten dollar tip, giving him a short thanks before leaving the parlor. You looked over at the aftercare sheet that he'd given you at the counter, seeing his Instagram scrawled out in pretty decent penmanship. Well, at least you had plans for when you got back to your apartment tonight.

You knew that the tattoo was healing nicely—that you'd put the expensive ass ointment that Geto had recommended the designated three times a day. So why exactly did you find yourself standing outside the tattoo parlor once more? Out of concern for the new ink or just wanting to see Suguru once more? It couldn't be the latter, right? Not like you'd spent hours scrolling through his Instagram these last couple days to see what he'd thought about the tattoo. Definitely not the latter.

After all, he did say come to him if you had any concerns.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Choso to greet you at the counter this time around. Suguru was standing there, rearranging a couple pieces of body jewelry onto the glass display before he lifted his head to see who'd walked in the door. "You didn't let it get infected, did you? I spent hours on that thing," he didn't even bother with a greeting as Choso had done, already looking annoyed at the prospect. "Your concern for my health's endearing too."

"Yeah, yeah, what're you here for?"

"I just wanted to check up with you to see if the tattoo was healing nicely," the practiced lie slipped out of your tongue without any effort, plenty of rehearsals in your head allowing for it to slip out with any second thought.

"Alright, I have a couple minutes before my next appointment gets here," Suguru gestured for you to join him, opening the door for you. The space looked pretty much the same as the day you'd come in—which you should've expected, since it was only a week ago—albeit for a couple pencils scattered on top of a sketchbook in the middle of his desk. You took a seat on the leather chair, waiting for him to finish cleaning up his space.

Suguru grabbed a white box of gloves, grabbing a pair before placing them on. "So, what're you concerned about?" He questioned, long fingers running through your skin as he looked at how the tattoo was healing. "Well, it's been peeling a bit. I just wanted to know if that was normal or if I'm fucking something up somehow. I've been putting on the ointment you recommended three times a day."

Geto let out a small hum before leaning back on the rolling chair, folding his arms across his chest. His very muscular arms, the material of his black button down practically straining against them with the motion. "Your tattoo seems to healing well. Bit of peeling's normal as a new layer of skin comes in, nothing to worry about too much. Usually the area starts to get red if it's starting to get infected."

And maybe you should've taken that as a cue to leave. But you found yourself wanting to bask in whatever couple seconds that he would give you, unable to think about any other opportunities where you'd see him. Well, any other opportunities that didn't involve you spending upwards of a hundred dollars. You made no effort to move just yet, folding your hands over your lap. Trying to think of anything else to prolong this visit.

A couple moments of silence pass between the two of you before Suguru opens his mouth up to speak, only to get interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Yo, someone named Larue's here for their appointment," Choso called out from the other side, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Suguru gives you a glance before answering back, "Ask him to reschedule. Tell him that I'm sorry and I'll give him a discount or something."

Choso's heavy boots echoed against the floor as he walked away, leaving you alone with Geto once more. "So, tell me, what exactly is it that you're doing here again? And don't lie to me, talking about some 'I wanna see if my tattoo's healing properly,'" And you almost rolled your eyes at the way he raised his voice in pitch, mocking you with a short chuckle. Almost.

"First of all, I don't sound like that. Second, I really did just come to see if it was healing properly," And despite your words, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the chair just yet. "So maybe I should go tell Larue to come back for his appointment. Since we determined your tattoo's healing nicely, our time's done," You would've thought that he was bluffing but he moved to get up from his chair, walking over to the door.

"Wait," you called out before he managed to turn the doorknob, looking over to see him already staring at you with an expectant look on his face. Like he was about five seconds away from telling you to get off the leather chair. "So maybe, there's a slight chance that I didn't just come here just because I was concerned about my tattoo," you muttered almost reluctantly, avoiding looking at him directly.

"And why don't you try telling me why you came here instead?" Suguru stepped away from the door, returning to his spot in the seat next to you. Where you couldn't avoid looking at him even if you wanted to. How would you even begin telling him that he's been clouding your mind since last week just from that three hour interaction? That you've refreshed his Instagram page more times than you could count to see what he'd say about the piece?

You gulped, willing for the words to come out before he got the chance to go back to the door again. But you couldn't. Couldn't bring yourself to the potential humiliation that would inevitably come if you had just been delusional about this all along.

"You here because you want me to fuck you?" And the words that you'd struggled to spit out, he'd just said them so bluntly. You were expecting for him to look at you with that same mocking smile from earlier, but he seemed to be genuinely analyzing you. Waiting. "No, no, of course, I was just here to.." You hadn't quite rehearsed for this part in your mind.

"Because if you were, then I'd say that I was thinking about you too, cutie," and before you had the chance to respond, he was already speaking again, "So I'm just gonna ask you again. Are you here because you want me to fuck you?"

Now that there was little chance of your advances getting rejected, the word slipped out so easily, "Yes."

"Go on and lay back for me. Wanna taste you," and by how quick he was to get on his knees in front of you, you'd guess that he was doing this for his pleasure more than yours. "Lift up your hips," you followed his words without hesitation, letting him slide your jeans off and place them to the side. Large tattooed hands spread your thighs apart, presenting you like a feast to the man before you.

And you would've felt some ounce of embarrassment for the wet spot that quickly built up in the middle of your panties in just the five minutes of being here—if it weren't for the fact that Geto's cock was already straining against the material of his jeans. "Mph, fuck!" Geto quickly pulled your attention back to the issue at hand, his tongue prodding against your clothed cunt. "Not so loud, you don't want Choso to hear us," he clicked his tongue, giving you somewhat of a relief when he pulled away.

A very short lived relief. His tongue traced the outline of your slick folds through the material of your thin panties, his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue swirled against your clit, your cunt leaking out onto your underwear. You'd be lucky at this rate, if you could wear them back home. And almost like he'd read your mind, his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties before sliding them down to your ankles.

You waited to feel his tongue on your cunt again—but nothing came. You looked over at him, watching as he just observed your weeping pussy. "Thought you were eager to taste," you muttered, a scoff leaving from his lips. A gust of wind blowing to your cunt, your walls clenching all the much more. Eager to receive whatever he could give. "Let me admire for a bit. We got enough time," Suguru let out a small tsk after, his face in front of your cunt. And before you had the chance to say anything more—his tongue was already on your labia.

Your syrupy slick dripped onto his expecting tongue, his eyes almost rolling back at the taste. The small silver ball at the end of his tongue piercing flicked against your folds with every lick, each touch serving to have you clenching around pure air. Your hips bucked up to meet his movements, his large hands holding you down in mere seconds. "What'd I say? Let me enjoy this, pretty girl. Told you we got enough time."

"Such a tease," your grumbled words came out more breathless than you would've liked. "And you're so impatient," he retorted without missing a beat. A hushed whine escaped from your lips when you felt him pull away, his mouth moving to your inner thighs. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin, nibbling down just hard enough for it to leave a mark behind. "Promise I'll take care of you, sweet girl. Have some trust in my abilities."

“You say that but your abilities have been less than stellar lately."

A couple dark locks fell out of place, framing his face almost perfectly. You'd almost expected Suguru to look offended at the implication of your words—but all he did was seem to find some kind of amusement. "Guess I'll have to repair that then," he murmured, more so to your cunt than to you, his tongue prodding in and out of your entrance. "You're not doing a g-Oh fuck!" He immediately made you swallow whatever retort you were planning, his tongue penetrating inside of you.

Suguru swiped his tongue up and down your cunt, the lower half of his face covered in a mixture of your slick and his own spit. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his nose prodding against your clit with every swipe that he made. "Keep looking at me, pretty. Keep those pretty eyes on me," you opened your eyes to see purple eyes already looking back at you, resuming his actions all too greedily. He was so messy when it came to eating you out—spitting into your cunt, watching almost all too eagerly as you clenched around the liquid.

"Please," a whine left your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair. Whatever act of defiance you'd tried to put on earlier had quickly faded away, all you were feeling was need. An almost slutty moan left his lips at the sudden tug, one of his hands grabbing on to yours. "Come on, you can pull harder, can't you?" An even louder groan escaped his lips at the harder tug you gave this time around—the tips of your fingers digging into his scalp. "Now, what were you saying please for?" His words came out muffled, his face buried in between your legs. "Your fingers, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," Suguru took to that almost immediately, two long fingers pushing past the ring of muscle before curling to hit your g-spot. His mouth instantly attached itself to your throbbing clit, pushing through your clitoral hood to get to the bundle of nerves. "F-Fuck, don't stop, don't stop," you sounded like a broken record, your thighs pressing tightly against the sides of his face while his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," any other thought that you had apart from cumming had been quickly fucked out of you, your grip on his hair tightening even further. Not that Suguru minded by any means, moaning against your cunt with every tug. The vibrations only added to the dual stimulation, your back arching off the chair. Needing to get more. Pushing your hips against his face, bucking up to meet every swipe of his tongue. "Cum for me, princess, come on. You can do it, right?"

All you could do was nod, not wanting to be any louder than you already had been. Part of you had been surprised that Choso hadn't come by knocking earlier. Suguru continued flicking his tongue around your clit, working in synchrony with his fingers to pull your orgasm out of you. "Fuck fuck, gonna cum!" You weren't sure if your muffled moan made it's way into Suguru's ears, watching as he eagerly lapped up your release. Running his tongue across his lips, your slick making them glisten under the lights.

"Get on all fours," Suguru told you after you'd managed to regain your breath, deft fingers working to unzip his jeans. You got on your stomach, resting it against the cold leather while getting on your hands and knees. And if Choso were to come into the room to be quiet now, he'd get a spectacular view of your ass perched up in the air. Suguru ran his cock against your folds, your slick lubricating it with ease after your previous orgasm.

Ridges running down his shaft brushed up against your tight walls, your slick coating his tip like second nature the further that he pushed it in. Your walls clenched and unclenched rapidly in a futile attempt to get used to the pure stretch of his cock. "You can take it, right? This isn't anything," But the sheer girth of his cock was just enough to dispute that statement, the position making him feel much deeper than he was. "Yeah, yeah, I can take it," your voice came out as a mewl, your grip on the leather getting tighter the more he pushed his cock in.

The rhythm that he started up was fairly slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. Whatever he was lacking in length, he certainly compensated for it with the sheer size of his girth. Just a couple inches inside of you and he'd already stuffed you full. "Doin' so good, gonna speed up, okay?" He waited for you to nod, retracting his cock before pushing the full length inside of you with one sharp thrust. Your mouth went agape, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head upon the impact. "So good, so so good," even after a couple thrusts, he already sounded so obsessed.

"That's ittt, that's my girl. Fuck that ass back into me," A strangled groan left his throat at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling underneath him with every thrust, the two of you moving in tandem. One of the hands that'd been on your waist went to cup whatever he could of the flesh, all too entranced with the vision presented in front of him. "Mm, fuck!" A moan left your lips as you felt the palm of his hand strike against the flesh, your ass stinging from the impact. Not to say that you necessarily hated it, by any means.

And Suguru caught it—the way your slick ran down his shaft at the sudden impact. "Should've fucking guessed you would've liked it," his tone practically dripped in condescension as he spoke, his hand going to cup your other ass cheek. Holding the flesh in his hands before giving you another harsh slap, almost rivaling the harsh smack of his hips against your own. "Shit shit, Geto, don't stop," you whined, pushing your ass back into him. "Think it's okay for you to call me Suguru after bein’ inside you and all."

"Suck," a simple command, two of his fingers in front of your face. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting the remnants of your cum on them before letting it fall flat. Simply sucking on his fingers as his cock pushed in and out of you with such fervor. "Get 'em all nice and wet for me, just like that," Suguru pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth the second you started to get too loud again, tears building up at your waterline when you gagged on them. "Aw, don't cry, cutie. Y'know I had to."

And while his words were meant to be reassuring, the mocking tone of his voice was anything but. Spit dribbled down from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the chair beneath you. "Sugu-Sugu, fuck, right there!" He'd adjusted the angle of his hips, his shaft brushing up against your g-spot with every thrust. "So. Fucking. Tight," each of his words was accentuated with a deep thrust of his hips, filling you up impossibly so. Like he wanted to show you just how much he'd been thinking about it, like he claimed he did.

If the moans coming out of you weren't evidence enough as to what was happening in the room, then you were pretty much certain that the plap! plap! echoing through the walls was evidence enough. Geto's heavy balls smacked against your ass with every harsh thrust of his hips. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing at the nub just in time for it to match his pace. You clamped around his cock like a vice, a strangled moan leaving out of his lips. "Just had to tell- shit me that you wanted my cum, ma."

"Mph, cumm- I'm cumm-" Muffled babbles left your mouth, your cunt clenching around him yet again. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier and faster. Whatever small bits of concern about being too loud had been disregarded—loud squelches and skin clapping filling up the room as Suguru rutted inside of you. You turned your head to look over at him, the sight before you almost like something out of a painting. His hair had completely been released from the half-bun, cascading down his back perfectly and his eyes were closed in pure bliss.

Spurts and spurts of cum shot deep inside of you, his cock twitching as you milked him for whatever he could offer. Suguru pulled his softening cock out of your cunt, his cum starting to dribble out of you and down your thighs. With the same fingers he'd had inside your mouth, he pushed his cum back inside of you. Scooping the substance up with relative ease. Your body slumped against the chair, willing that Geto would give you a couple seconds to catch your breath.

You'd expected him to grab a wipe or a paper towel to clean you up with, but he simply got up from his spot behind you. Grabbing his pants off the floor and fastening up his fly. You looked over at him through half lidded eyes, seeing him pop the fingers that had previously been in your cunt into his mouth. Slurping at them in a similar fashion that you'd done just a couple minutes prior. "Wanna taste yourself, pretty girl? 'S so fucking good."

Geto didn't give you a chance to respond before he was leaning down to your level, one of his fingers underneath your chin to raise your head. He leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a messy exchange. More of spit getting intertwined than an actual kiss, not that you minded in your state. His tongue flicked against yours, the bittersweet taste of both you and him combined filling your tastebuds. Geto pulled away after a couple seconds, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

You hadn't even finished putting on your pants yet when Suguru spoke up yet again,

"You mind giving me a five star review when you get home?"

[pressureplus]

HEYA HELLO HI

first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]

SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH

a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?

oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D

Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️

♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it

Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment

A terrible mistake he'd soon find out

He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone

It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking

He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?

I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings

If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?

Could he?

He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses

After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?

Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?

It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.

You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.

You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you

His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…

Okay, insanely attractive

Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours

You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?

Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus

Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?

Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.

It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here

Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you

You hide it well…at least you hope you do?

The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though

Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming

It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it

No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date

He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together

And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels

When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?

Especially when you’re in love with him too?

He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway

[shittygaypornmagazine]

Maybe atheists from your own religion can talk about it then

https://www.tumblr.com/sophia-epistemia/731237402894581760/avoiding-your-beliefs-real-weak-points

Okay here we go. The pissing on the poor reading comprehension of this website together with the antisemitism is at it again.

First of all, hello! I am a stranger on the internet, who you might know as being Jewish! You don't know shit about my experiences with Judaism, of course, or what kind of Judaism I practice, if I even do, and hence have no understanding of "my own religion", however.

Second, this is the og post:

From its contents you might see that I am requesting ex-christian atheists not to put their religious traumas and biases onto other religions, something which results in nothing but silencing the voices of the people practicing/who practiced said other religions, erasing their unique experiences and trauma, which has nothing to do with Jesus and his followers.

Now, lets examine what you said and the link you sent me.

"Maybe the atheists from your own religion can talk about it then"

You said it. And by it, well... I assume you meant religious trauma in general. Which is, of course, something people who practice/d Judaism can and should talk about. I talk about it! All the time!

But see, the difference between what you're saying and what I'm saying, is that I talk about religious trauma within Judaism. I want to talk about it, but I don't want to hear an ex-christian person's opinions or takes on it. I dont want to hear about how "every religion is a cult actually" from a person who was a part of the religion whose extensive opression and antisemitism shaped mine. They fundamentally will misunderstand me and everything I have to say, as do you. I dont want to have to go through piles of comparisons to Christianity and the trauma it brought people every single time I want to get to the stuff that is relatable to me. Hell, I have trauma from it and I'm not even Christian! So fuck yeah I know about it! What I want to know is my people's stories.

That's where your link comes into play.

It is an amazing post, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It is a true account and critique of Orthodox Judaism from a person that experienced it first hand and I absolutely support it. I wouldn't have a problem with you sending it to me if it was for purely educational reasons, but there is a sort of gotcha in your tone (which might be coming from the dismissive "your religion" remark that is interestingly close to the wording "your kind").

See, my issue is that you have no idea who I am. You don't know that I had my own shitload of experiences with Orthodox Judaism and that it is the reason I currently I am where I am, faith-wise. You don't know the misogyny, homophobia and transphobia I've experienced. You don't know that I am currently actively looking for a Reform Judaism synagogue in the town I am planning to move to because I want to cleanse my experience of Judaism from all those associations. You think that by virtue of me asking ex-christians to stop putting their hands into every single punch bowl at the party, I dismiss the flaws of my bowl and its recipe. And that, is what I have an issue with.

Every religion and a way of practicing it has flaws. What matters is your experience of them. The way people around you treat those flaws. I want to be able to enjoy being Jewish while acknowledging the shitload of stuff that is wrong with it. Me and my partner are writing a whole book whose main character, Leroy, is all about it! About wanting to be understood by the traditions you were brought up with, and the struggle of them potentially rejecting you. I want to hear Jewish voices when I ask about problems related to practicing Judaism. I want to hear Islamic voices when I ask about issues related to practicing Islam. And yes, I want to hear Christian voices when I ask about the issues with practicing Christianity!

What I don't want, however, is someone else's hands in my punch bowl.

And yes, sometimes cross-referencing is very helpful. Sometimes bringing an outsider perspective is very helpful. But the key-word is sometimes. It should be an option, but it should never be the default.

[apixieindreamland]

As always, this is a criticism of a theory, not of the beings who believe in it. 👻

The belief that EIYPO (Everyone Is You Pushed Out) is the foundation for the belief that people are in their own individual realities, over which they have complete control. I often see critics of loa say, "If you believe you have ultimate power, why are you manifesting shallow things like 'I'm the most beautiful/popular woman in the world' and not solving world hunger, wars, cancer, and suffering of all kinds?"

It's a VERY valid question, and the only response I've ever seen is something along the lines of "Because I don't have to!" 💅 That might seem like a non-answer, but it makes 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 sense when you analyze the underlying spirit of EIYPO: Absolute, utter, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 self-centeredness; the belief that "I am L-I-T-E-R-A-L-L-Y the only person here. No one else is real and thus 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴."

I'm not being hyperbolic here at all about the logical conclusion of EIYPO. If no one else is "real" except for them, why should they care about someone else's supposed suffering? Why should they care about the imaginary suffering of an imaginary person? If they're the only person here, all that matters is their own comfort, their own ego gratification, and the satisfaction of every whim - right down to manifesting that their nail polish never chips. See 99.9% of loa posts for confirmation of this. See if you can find even ONE per day which focuses on the health and happiness of another person - I'd be very surprised if you could! EIYPO does not give anyone a single incentive to care about another human being, because according to that theory there AREN'T any other human beings. There's only me, me, and ME.

The only people I see who use manifestation to heal or help others are the ones who believe we're in a shared universe with other real beings who are also facets of God, and thus worth helping. (Read Ernest Holmes' work as an example of this - he was a hugely influential manifestation author who founded the Religious Science movement, which focuses mainly on healing and helping others with the power of thought.) Those who don't believe that other people exist have no incentive to try to help them - and often don't.

I think there are certain ideologies and influences in the world which encourage our lower natures; our tendency toward self-centeredness and mean-spiritedness. For example, something that encourages mean-spiritedness would be those shows which make fun of people who've obviously had rough lives and little education (like Jerry Springer.) That doesn't mean that the people watching that are bad people, but it is encouraging the less compassionate side of human nature.

Likewise, people who believe in EIYPO and get wrapped up in themselves are not bad people, but it's encouraging our tendency toward self-centeredness (which we all have), and the worst part is that the theory is a 𝘭𝘪𝘦. You're being encouraged to see your fellow creatures as literal non-entities; to detach from real connection (because how can one truly connect with someone you don't believe is real?), to feel no real concern about them, and to care about nothing but yourself. Does that sound healthy?

Please question everything, and always look into the heart of your most deeply held beliefs.

[phantom-does-a-thing]

gouh IM so love for friends and comrads but ough why did my social battery immediately run out

[mamawasatesttube]

it's like, i really do enjoy most of the bats as characters and i really do like a lot of their comics. but also i am sooooo tired of them being hailed as better than literally everyone else. both in fanon but also in comics (modern ones are esp egregious imo, like WHAT was that shit about batman and the joker being the most dangerous men on the planet. hi. have you heard of lanterns? speedsters? supers? actually if i keep listing groups who could kick batman's ass we'd be here all day). they're like kudzu. that shit needs to stay in its native environment (funky little neo-noir detective stories) and stop being an invasive species (putting down everyone else to make them seem cooler). put bruce wayne back into a murder mystery setting that isn't about saving the world but is about saving one person or one family that no one else would've saved right now or so help me god. the whole invasive species cross contamination thing is unhealthy for both him And the other ecosystems he keeps getting transplanted into. please. it's so dark in here

[wonder-worker]

this is a Princes in the Tower and Edward of Lancaster stan account btw

[bunnihearted]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

[katsy-kitty]

ok I'm gonna be vulnerable for a moment

I'm prescribed Xanax* and while I know it can cause amnesia when taken in too large amounts, what happened yesterday is a bit different

I took one pill in the late evening because I'd only slept for less than 3 hours the night before and wanted to fall sleep earlier and also was feeling anxious. I waited for some time and decided it hadn't done that much of a difference, so I took two more. So, three pills in total - not that much.

Well... I don't really remember going to bed, but:

I woke up in my bed fully clothed - not bad; I sometimes do that even when sober

I left the computer, music, the TV, and the bathroom light on - not THAT hard to imagine; has happened before when sober

I apparently forgot to take my daily evening medication, which is a bit of shame because it improves my sleep quality and also should be taken daily

THERE'S A WHOLE HUGE 1KG PACK OF SALT ON MY DESK IN THE LIVING ROOM

MY BRA IS ON THE KITCHEN COUNTERTOP

THE MILK WAS OUT OF THE FRIDGE EVEN THOUGH I DIDN'T EVEN USE IT (also it was my last one and I doubt it's still good so RIP milk...)

I HAD SOME DRY, USED TEA IN A TEA INFUSER AND NOW IT'S JUST FUCKING ALL OVER THE DISH DRYER AND THE COUNTERTOP FOR SOME REASON

THE MICROWAVE DOOR WAS OPEN BUT I DON'T REMEMBER MICROWAVING ANYTHING (I WOULD have noticed because the light is on in the microwave when the door's open and I have a long corridor leading to the kitchen with the microwave at the end of it - that's how I noticed IN THE MORNING WHEN IT WAS LIGHT, so at night it would be extra visible)

I'd opened a pack of crisps, left one on the countertop and just left the rest OPEN on the countertop without eating almost any of it (I know this one doesn't seem that bad, but I'd never leave crisps wide open because they get stale)

THE SCARY PART: I DON'T REMEMBER ANY OF IT HAPPENING

THANKFULLY, when I checked in the morning, I DIDN'T MAKE ANY TUMBLR POSTS WHILE BEING A ZOMBIE (so all the deranged posts from yesterday are just me)

1.5 year ago, when I was doing reeeaaally badly, I took way more and then went to a birthday party of a person close to me, where I met some of his friends whom I'd only heard about before and had been excited to meet, AND I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT THAT PARTY OR THE PEOPLE I MET EVEN THOUGH I ACTED AND TALKED NORMALLY AND IT WASN'T APPARENT TO ANYONE THAT I WAS FUNCTIONALLY A FUCKING ZOMBIE. And I cannot ever recover these memories afaik. Do you know how fucking scary it is to not remember what you did the night before? What if I did something reprehensible? What if I was outside and broke the law and got arrested? What if I did something extremely reckless? I DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF PERSON I WAS WHEN THIS WAS HAPPENING. I DON'T KNOW IF I WAS MYSELF AND HAD MY NORMAL VALUES AND OPINIONS OR IF I TURN INTO A DIFFERENT KIND OF PERSON. All I know, because someone close to me has told me, is that I am meaner and more egocentric. I DON'T WANT TO BE MEAN

btw for anyone wondering: amnesia IS a legitimate side effect of Xanax and not something specific to me. I'm not sure if all leaflets list it (I'm not in the US), but you can check Wikipedia for more info

*generic Xanax, to be exact, which is the same in effect btw

PS. I don't abuse Xanax anymore and even when I did, it didn't ever any feel-good effects for me; I only used it to numb myself / make myself go to sleep. I don't even see why people use it recreationally (apparently) because if I wasn't extremely anxious, like having a panic attack, it wasn't very helpful or pleasant to take.

All of the above doesn't mean that I am against Xanax. I think it's a great medicine for panic attacks because it (a) works, (b) acts extremely fast for something that's a pill ingested through the mouth.

But it's extremely important that people don't abuse it, and that's why doctors should be responsible when prescribing it and inform patients of the side effects and the harms of abusing it.

Xanax is also very addictive and the addiction is hard to break (not from personal experience this time). And abusing it can lead to long-lasting (I'm not saying "permanent") cognitive impairment even once you've stopped taking it.

[airanke]

Every day I sit here or lie in bed thinking about how much purity culture destroyed me.

[large-baguette-112]

💫Hey there, just a reminder that you’re stronger and more capable than you give yourself credit for. Life’s challenges may try to knock you down, but you’ve got the resilience to rise every time. Don’t forget to take pride in the person you are—the world is better because of you. Keep believing in yourself, because you’re doing amazing things, even when it doesn’t feel like it. Your journey matters, and you have so much to offer. Keep shining, because the world needs your light💫

THIS IS SO SWEET????? I actually teared up reading this dhsjfhdndjd

thank you sm <3

[loudmound]

considering my interpretation of james i think he would've become a youkai of sorts way fucking before the events of sh2. maybe even before he met mary.

[lottieurl]

@sameensass that's why i very very carefully picked a few authors who weren't trying to turn shaw neurotypical and held on tight

[lord-squiggletits]

I think another thing that annoys me about how prevalent it is for people to read MTMTE/LL and nothing else, is the fact that JRO's depiction of Cybertronian-organic relationships is slanted so heavily in favor of Cybertronians portraying organic aliens as tyrannical racists killing colonies for no reason (Galactic Council, the Black Block Consortia) that love torturing Cybertronians because they hate them so much and don't see them as sentient (that dude who was selling Cybertronian torture dolls to alien races).

And like, something that happens as a result of people only reading MTMTE/LL is that they get this idea in their head that it's Cybertronians who are oppressed by the rest of the galaxy. And an unfortunate.... take that I see as a result of this ends up with stuff like Decepticon/Megatron apologists trying to frame technoist colonialism as basically Cybertronians trying to strike back against being unfairly persecuted and being seen as lesser by alien species? They don't always explicitly say it as such, but I've seen a lot of people try to downplay the whole technoism and colonialism thing by framing it in context to organic racism and how both sides are equally bad or something like that.

Which is not fucking true because if you actually were to read exRID and OP, you would know that there are multiple Cybertronian colonies throughout the galaxy that were created by razing previously occupied organics planets, that Nova Prime (one of the original 13 Primes and the first Prime to rule a united Cybertron) wanted to conquer the entire galaxy which led to the creation of cold construction in the first place, and that the reason organic species hate Cybertronians so much is because Cybertronians were the first ones to go out and start conquering other planets millions of years ago.

It's even more infuriating because you don't even need to read other comics besides JRO's to know this! Tailgate and Cyclonus were from Nova Prime's time and the whole "yeah during those times we liked going out on a fun journey to kill organics for fun hahaha" is brought up at least a couple times in the series.

[twotales]

Listen, I write for myself. If y'all wanna show up to the puppet show then come on in, but I don't need an audience.

[fingertipsmp3]

I love lesbian dating apps because I can go on there to sightsee and be safe in the knowledge that no matter what I do, no one is going to talk to me