#free skins 2019

[perhaps-mr-collins-has-a-cousin]

Hello praying people, I'm not doing well and would really appreciate your prayers right now <3

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken

max verstappen x reader

she isn't you i'd be insane not to love you

request from @formulaal

Pt. 2 here

"Alright, one more question from the chat," you said into your mic, scanning for a good one. One caught your eye, and you began reading it aloud before realizing it would reveal something from your past. “Would you choose a guy over your best friend?”

Laughing humorlessly, you looked into the camera with a tight smile. “Anyone who’s been here for a while knows how relevant that question is to my life. But my answer hasn’t changed: if you’re choosing a romantic partner over your best friend, you can get fucked. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. See you around.”

Logging off, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the kitchen to refill it. Checking your phone, you smiled at the stats from the stream—10k of your fans tuning in tonight was a big turnout. You’d gone viral on BookTok back in 2020, and now, your book podcast had a solid following. Normally, BookTok didn’t bring huge numbers, but thanks to your former best friend, your popularity had skyrocketed. As grateful as you were, his part in your success irritated you now.

Then a notification popped up on your screen, and you rolled your eyes.

MV: Nice stream.

You: Fuck off

MV: Glad I’m still living rent-free in your head.

You: Glad you got permission to text me.

You threw your phone down on the counter, boiling inside. Nobody got under your skin like he could, especially after 20 years of knowing exactly how to do it. Growing up, it hadn’t always been this way. At 10, you’d moved with your family to the Netherlands, right next door to the Verstappens. Max quickly became your best friend, your weekends spent watching him kart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine things would end like this.

You met Kelly in 2018 at a race Max invited you to. Right away, you got weird vibes. She looked at Max like a toy she had to have. It was creepy, especially given the nine-year age gap. By 2019, they were dating, and she made it clear she didn’t like you, refusing to acknowledge your existence. That led to rocky times between you and Max; he always had excuses to avoid seeing you. When you were together, he seemed tense, as if being watched.

Everything fell apart in Australia 2021.

Flashback

Max invited you to the first race of the 2021 season, though you almost didn’t go. It felt obligatory, as if he invited you just because you’d never missed an opening race. You hadn’t seen him all winter, just exchanging quick holiday texts. Walking into the paddock, you felt a strange sense of finality, like this might be the last one.

Spotting Carmen outside Mercedes, you walked over and hugged her. As you stepped back, she looked worried.

“What’s up?”

She hesitated. “I thought you should know, Kelly’s been saying some nasty things about you around the paddock. No one believes her, but… I wanted you to know.”

“What is she saying?” you asked, heart sinking.

“She’s calling you pathetic, saying you’re still pining over your childhood crush and using Max to become an influencer,” she said softly, looking at you with sympathy.

“You’re joking,” you said, anger simmering. She shook her head.

“Can I be real with you?” She asked, and you nodded. “I love you and George loves you and honestly, everyone does. But I will accept not seeing you here anymore if you finally realize that Max is not being a good friend to you. And he hasn’t been for a long time.”

Eyes filling with tears, you let her words sink in. She was right, but admitting it was brutal. Maybe staying around him was just self-inflicted pain.

You found Max later, pulling him aside.

“I only have a few minutes, so make it quick,” he said, barely looking at you. Seeing him like this, you realized that the man in front of you wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“Your girlfriend’s telling people I’m a pathetic loser here to use you for fame,” you said, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Really?” you laughed bitterly. “You don’t believe that from your girlfriend—the one who’s disliked me since day one?”

“Seems like you have something to say, Y/N. Just say it,” he replied, finally looking at you.

“There was a time in my life where I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. But now I’m living it. Have the past ten years been nothing to you? All it took was an older woman to bat her eyelashes at you and that was it?”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we had a good run and that I wish you the best. Fuck you. Fuck you for choosing her over me and fuck you for even letting it have to be a choice. I hate you.”

End of Flashback

That was the last time you had spoken to him. There were no texts or calls after that; his life just went on like normal while you felt like you were dying inside. You had thrown yourself into your work after that and now had over a million followers and subscribers to your podcast. You’d stayed friends with Carmen but hadn’t returned to a race since that day. You had tried to block the memory of that day from your mind, but when you were low, one thing always resurfaced in your mind. Kelly was right about you pining after your childhood crush. You had been in love with Max back then. How could you not be?

Then Carmen invited you to the Austin GP, and after much persuasion, you finally agreed. Thanks to your online following, you flew down with her, officially a Mercedes guest. Wearing Mercedes colors felt like poetic justice.

When you entered the paddock, a wave of nostalgia and sadness hit you. But it disappeared as you saw familiar faces you’d missed over the years.

"Y/N!" Alex called, arms open. Hugging him, you sighed, realizing how much you’d missed everyone. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you admitted before greeting Lily, who gushed over your podcast and joked about being a guest. As you laughed with her, you noticed Alex subtly trying to block your view. Looking over, you saw Max walking by. He did a double take, but you turned back to Lily, ignoring his stare.

Later, as you waited for a coffee, you overheard Checo’s wife and Fernando’s girlfriend chatting.

“I heard Max and Kelly broke up,” Melissa said.

“Oh yeah, it’s been a few months,” Carola replied, shrugging. “Apparently, he was in love with someone else the whole time.”

You smirked. So Kelly finally experienced what it felt like to be second choice.

The race came and went, and you successfully avoided Max the entire weekend. You didn’t even think about the possibility of running into him when you accepted Carmen’s invitation to go out that night. George had actually wanted to go out, so you found yourself at a little country bar that night with what seemed to be the whole grid. You felt Max’s gaze the second you walked in, and you were doing a hell of a job ignoring him. Charles was trying to talk to him, looking confused between the two of you, but you didn’t care.

Ordering another gin and tonic you felt him come up next to you and you refused to look over.

“Put hers on mine,” Max said, handing over his card. You tried to leave, but he held out an arm to stop you.

“No ‘thank you’?” he teased, eyes intense.

You glared. “You can have it, then.”

“Stop being difficult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, and his expression darkened.

He sighed. “Can we talk?”

“I said everything I needed to say three years ago. Have a good night.”

This time he let you go and you made your way back to Carmen who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” She asked, and you nodded.

A little while later, you were sitting at a table talking with Charles with Max hovering close by.

“Max, come sit down,” Charles slurred, and at this point, you were too tipsy to put up a fight about it. “Max is my best friend, ya know?”

“Ah yeah?” You asked head tilting. “Those words don’t mean much coming from him.”

Charles giggled, too drunk to understand what you meant and Max clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Insult me all you want schatje, as long as you’re talking to me I’ll take it,” he said and you didn’t say anything, just stared at him trying to figure out his angle.

“Is this the girl Kelly broke up with you over?” Charles asked and Max whipped his head towards him. “You always had a thing for her, so I told Alex that was my guess.”

Max’s face fell, and you froze. Shock turned into anger as you got up and stormed out. You felt Max following and soon he was in front of you, blocking your path.

“Come on,” he urged, leading you to a nearby park.

“Max, I don’t want to talk,” you said firmly, pulling away.

“I don’t care,” he replied, frustrated. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

You laughed bitterly. “Crawling back because you got dumped? It’s too late.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You made your choice three years ago. Now live with it.”

“You want to know why we broke up?”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” you replied before turning to walk away.

“She isn’t you!” He yelled. Your legs stopped moving as your mind reeled.

Whirling on him you got into his face, “You don’t get to fucking say that to me. Not after all this time. Not after what you put me through. Not after you chose her over me. I was there the whole time Max. Me! I was there! It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that till I was gone.” 

“I realized it long before then,” he said softly, and you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Tears were starting to fall, and you looked everywhere but him. 

“Then why?” You whispered, voice cracking. 

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you,” he said laughing sadly to himself. “The pressure was starting to cave in back then and I didn’t want you to see that. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You were my best friend Max,” you said exasperated. “I would have done anything for you.” 

“It’s easy to see that now,” he said. “But then you were so full of life and starting your little videos that I didn’t want to disappoint you. She understood what I was going through, but I never stopped loving you.” 

“Then why did you still push me away?” 

“I had to do that so that I could try and move on. She knew and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do to change how I felt about you. I knew what she was saying about you in the paddock, and I knew why she was saying it.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and it felt like heartbreak all over again. “You knew and you let it happen. You are the worst person I’ve ever known Max Verstappen.”

He was crying now too and the two of you stood staring at one another not saying anything. 

“I would be insane not to love you,” he said softly and it made you cry harder. “So I will do whatever it takes for however long to make up for what I did.” 

He let you go again and you left him there, crying silently as you walked back to the hotel. So many emotions going through your mind paired with confusing feelings. 

Happiness for your 15-year-old self that has wanted to hear those words for so long. 

Sadness for your 21-year-old self reliving those memories. 

And anger at your 24-year-old self for considering letting him make it up to you. 

[5sospenguinqueen]

Suck My Balls - Kevin Magnussen x Mercedes! Reader

Summary: When you and Kevin collide on track, fans half-expect you to start attacking each other. That’s not… quite how it ends.

Warnings: 18+ after the cut. Male oral. Enemies to lovers. Not an original title but how could I call it anything else 

Requested: No, which makes it worse lol

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ln just posted

liked by georgerussell63, hulkhulkenberg and others 

yn_ln starting p3 tomorrow, looking forward to going racing. in a position to push for a podium

2,044 comments

mercedesamgf1 that’s our girl! looking forward to a masterclass of overtaking 

georgerussell63 flaunting the gear, are we? yet you make fun of me when i post the tommy

→ yn_ln “flaunting the gear” and “post the tommy” this is why twitter say you have 0 aura

→ georgerussell63 @/mercedesamgf1 she’s being mean again 

→ user i love the 2019 rookies in merc

charles_leclerc you couldn't have gone a little slower and let me on the second row instead? 

→ yn_ln it’s against my contract to help pretty boys 

→ danielricciardo is that why you gave max a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 that was an accident! 

user she’s such a great starter. i bet she ends up leading by the second lap at least 

user yn podium incoming

→ user i think you mean yn win incoming 

→ alex_albon i can feel it in my bones 

→ yn_ln thank you my #1 fan

→ georgerussell63 so you steal my aura and my alex? 

user it’s a shame that yn’s time knocked nico into p11

→ user it's okay because haasband kevin magnussen will be committing war crimes to defend him 

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f1 posted a new story

18+

A throaty groan filled the room as nimble fingers tugged harshly on cropped blond strands. In response, his lips sucked on the pulse point below your ear. Kevin chuckled against your skin when your hips rolled eagerly against him.

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” you spat, shoving him away from you.

“Skat, I have my thigh between your legs. There’s no way for me to not enjoy this.”

You rolled your eyes at the smug grin on his face, pushing him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the hotel bed. He let himself fall backwards with a soft thud. Tucking an arm behind his head, he watched your eyes track the flex of his bicep with a smug smirk.

“Don’t be an asshole. Or I stop.”

“Now that would be more disappointing than the DNF.” His words trailed off as he choked on his own breath. The palm of your hand pressing down harshly on the bulge in his jeans. “Fucking hell.” He groaned, throwing his head back.

“Do you really want to piss me off right now?”

Kevin lifted his head, blue eyes darkened and pink lips apart, breathing heavily. Your hand moved to the top of his jeans, popping open the button and revealing a glimpse of grey boxers. A dark spot had formed where his tip sat.

“Desperate, are we?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Kevin groaned, pink staining his cheeks.

“Only when my mouth’s full.”

“Then I suggest you get on with it.”

He lifted his hips, helping you to pull the denim down his thighs, giving up once they’d reached his knees. He watched eagerly, holding his breath as your fingertips reached for the waistband of his boxers. He squirmed when your fingers skimmed his stomach. His boxers are pulled down, freeing his cock. It slaps against his stomach, thick and heavy. The cool air paired with the way you’re looking at him sends goosebumps rippling across his thighs.

A stuttered breath left his lips when your hand wrapped around him. Slowly working him, you sink to your knees between his legs. Your hair tickles his thighs when you lean down to press a kiss to the bottom of his stomach.

“Don’t be such a tease,” he hissed.

You ignored him, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his thigh all whilst your hand pumped him. Your tongue licked a stripe up his balls, enjoying the way his body jolted beneath you.

“Fuck,” he grunted when you took his balls in your mouth, sucking slightly. You chuckled against him, sending vibrations through his balls. “Oh, shit.”

Your tongue trailed a line from his balls, up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around his tip. Looking up, your eyes connected with his just as you sucked. Enjoying the way his head tipped back, you took more of him into your mouth before pulling back up. His hips bucked up, chasing your lips. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down. His abs clenched when your tongue traced his slit, and you were rewarded with a throaty groan from Kevin. His hand reached for the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He hesitated for a moment, waiting for you to pull back. Pulling back up, your lips sucked gently on the head of his cock.

“You’re so beautiful.” Kevin whispered, pushing a strand of hair back from your face.

Using his hold on your hair, he pushed your head down further. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged slightly. Your hand continued to pump what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Allowing Kevin to control the pace, you relaxed your jaw, taking more of him in when he pushed you down again.

“Shit, you’re so good at that. I’m so close.”

Encouraged, you suck harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls. With a slight squeeze, you let Kevin push your head down once more as he releases with a loud curse. Thick white ropes of cum paint your tongue, leaking from the side of your mouth.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck. So good.” Kevin whimpered, sensitive as your mouth slid off him.

Hair dishevelled, cheeks pink, mouth wide open, looking spent and satisfied. You decided you could get used to this sight of Kevin.

“I told you that you’d like that.”

Before you could laugh at your own joke, you felt the world spin and your back landed on the white sheets. An involuntary wince escaped you, body bruised from your earlier crash. Kevin immediately scrambled back, off your body.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgot- and it’s my fault-“

Your arms reached out for him, yanking until he lost his balance, almost collapsing atop you. His arms fell beside your head, bracing him.

“Shut up. You’re not here to be nice. If I wanted nice, I’d have asked your teammate.”

“He couldn’t fuck you like I can.”

“Prove it.”

And, as Kevin reached down to yank your leggings away, a darkness in his eyes, you knew he would.

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yn_ln just posted

liked by kevinmagnussen, francisca.cgomes and others 

yn_ln it’s a shame some people don’t have better reaction times but the main take away from this weekend is that i’m okay. a little bruised and a lot disappointed. now for a little girly self care 

2,750 comments

landonorris oh god, my eyes (puke)

georgerussell63 blimey, warn a man first. not what i wanted to see 

→ yn_ln "blimey?" do you need to calm your nerves with a spot of tea?

alex_albon treat yourself, girly 

user i love how the 2019 rookies are together

→ user alex being the only supportive one

mercedesamgf1 we’ll see you on that top step soon enough, yn 

user not k mag liking this post whilst she shades him in the caption

→ user can you blame him. she’s thirst trapping

→ user he probably saw people on twitter talking about it and came to drool 

user being a passenger princess is the ultimate form of self care

alexandrasaintmleux loving the aesthetic 

→ user even the man?

→ alexandrasaintmleux especially 

charles_leclerc is the bath a good place to cry?

→ yn_ln yes

→ charles_leclerc can you show me how to make one like that?

→ yn_ln also yes. on my way 

lilymhe okay, i see you. treating yourself in more ways than one

→ yn_ln it definitely was more than one way 

→ landonorris filth!

user why aren’t more people freaking out about the fact that there is clearly a man touching her???

→ user thank you! like who is he? is this a soft launch or just miss thing flaunting the fact that she probably got railed after the grand prix

user anyone else think that tattoo looks a lot like kevin’s?

(picture 3 has been deleted) 

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Requests are open

No tags because this is smut and I don't know if all of you are comfortable with that :)

[quaranmine]

i hate my stupid skin i hate that i am cursed with awful acne on my back not even because it has scarred me or whatever but BECAUSE IT HURTS SO MUCH RIGHT NOW AUGHLJSG L;SAGJ HA;BSD;B

[lackadaisycats]

Hello! Would you happen to have any recommendations for realistic anatomy books on humans (for art purposes)? A lot of the online anatomy references are very exaggerated and the models have only 'ideal' body types and don't depict any others (E.g. Online male anatomy references are extremely buff for no reason). Thank you for the help :)

I do have a small collection of anatomy-for-artists books, but honestly, those are also populated predominantly with people who look like living Greek sculptures. So, I asked around a bit for both book and online sources. Here are a few things:

Height Weight Chart -- A library that people have contributed multitudes of their own photos to. Some people took turnaround photos in form-fitting clothes. Some are just one-off snapshots of people in street clothes. But, both of those things can be useful in their own way, and there certainly are a lot of body types here. (Thanks for the link, Fable).

------------------------------------------------------ AdorkaStock -- Features a whole free pose gallery containing a really excellent array of varied bodies. The photos generally focus more on form than costume, and if anything, the extremely sculpted bodies you tend to see in other stock libraries are de-emphasized here.

------------------------------------------------------

Satine Zillah -- An expansive library of downloadable photo packs. Most of them feature athletic or thin body types, many are heavy on costuming, but there are some that focus on more variety if you take time to scroll through (elderly bodies, plus-size bodies, people with dwarfism, etc.)

------------------------------------------------------

Morpho -- I know a lot of people swear by these books by Michel Lauricella. Morpho: Fat and Skin Folds in particular seems to cover some ground that a lot of other anatomy/pose lessons just skip right over. Looks like it's available as an ebook too.

I hope that helps some! I'm sure there are other resources out there, though. If anyone has some solid recommendations, please leave them in the comments!

[verstappensrealwife]

Breaking the contract - Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader

fluff, smut.

approx. 1800 words.

warnings: sex, swearing, me not following any sort of time line.

a/n: I tried a new format with more "speech" but i low-key went back to my descriptive ways towards the end... whoops! ----- also i haven't proof read yet :P

lewis hamilton masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

When you signed the contract to join MercedesAMG in 2019, you had also signed that you “would not partake in romantic relations within the team”. That was easy. All because they didn’t say you couldn’t have sexual relations people within the team.

It started in August of 2019, just after the hungarian grand prix there were, of course, big celebratory events to kick off summer break. 

You had held one yourself at your home in Monaco, inviting all the drivers, as well as some other people of course. 

The house, nestled on the cliffs of Monaco overlooking the azure Mediterranean, exuded an air of opulence and sophistication. Its sleek, modern design boasted floor-to-ceiling windows that offered panoramic views of the glittering coastline below. Inside, the décor was a blend of contemporary elegance and minimalist chic, with plush furnishings and tasteful artwork adorning the walls.

 As guests arrived, the sound of laughter and lively chatter filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of music playing in the background. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the excitement of the recent race and anticipation for the upcoming summer break. Amidst the throng of glamorous guests, you moved with ease, playing the gracious host and ensuring everyone felt welcome in your luxurious abode.

“You know i deserved to win…” Lewis said behind you, you rolled your eyes and spun around. “… It’s true! I mean 0.012 seconds faster is stupid- I should have won.

“Are you not bored of your own voice sometimes?” You asked with a laugh. “Because I am.”

“I’m sure you could get used to it,” He smirked rather flirtily, “In a different context of course…” You looked around to see the rest of the grid, and anyone else who had showed up, to be having a good time, lots of laughs and well… free booze meant lots of chatter to cover up what lewis was whispering in your ear. “Look, love, I know you want something and it’s not gonna be the championship,”

“Oh Lewis, how you underestimate me!” You smile, “I know how to easily distract you from winning,” - he looked at you to carry on - “Well how about… every race you don’t win, you get to make me do anything you want! Tweet something, post something, anything.”

“Anythi-“

“That’s what I said…” You replied, cutting him off before smiling innocently and walking away. He followed eagerly.

“Well- Well- since i’ve not won 5 of the races this year so far do i get those prizes?” he asked, you shrugged and nodded. “And you truly mean ANYTHING I want from you…” - You nod once again- “Meet me upstairs?” 

You smirked and walked away… towards the stairs.

-

And it carried on to 2021 before stopping for a while since Lewis had found- in his words- “The one.”

“The one” also cheated on him in 2023 and left him for you to fix.

Yes despite fucking, you were good friends with him before that and continued to be outside of your agreement.

He came to you first, immediately after she had left. He banged on your wooden doors and as soon as you opened it, he was on you. Kissing you. Holding you. Grabbing you.

“This is to make up for the last 2 years we’ve missed.” He mumbled against your neck as he pushed you towards the nearest surface, kitchen counter. “God how I've missed you— th-this.”

Your top was somewhere near the door, your shorts not far behind, and now you stood legs apart, chest against the cold of the countertops as he fucked you to no end.

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, fueled by months, years, of unspoken desires and suppressed emotions. As Lewis's hands roamed hungrily over your skin, every touch ignited a fiery passion that threatened to consume both of you. With each kiss and caress, the weight of the past two years melted away, replaced by a raw and primal need that pulsed between you. Lost in the whirlwind of sensation, you surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, giving in to the magnetic pull of his touch. The kitchen counter provided a makeshift altar for your reunion, bearing witness to the fervent connection that transcended words. In that fleeting instant, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating dance of bodies and souls intertwined in a desperate embrace. As the echoes of pleasure reverberated through the room, it was clear that this was more than just a physical reunion—it was a soul-deep communion of two hearts seeking solace in each other's arms.

In the hazy aftermath of passion, as the echoes of your shared ecstasy lingered in the air, you found yourselves entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises. With each ragged breath, the boundaries between past and present blurred, and for a fleeting moment, you existed in a timeless realm where only the intensity of your connection mattered. 

Lewis's gaze, dark and intense, bore into yours with a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own, laying bare the depths of longing and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. 

“Well…” You say, “What happened at home?” You giggle at the obscurity of this situation. Now lay on the bed- no you don't remember when you moved from the kitchen to here.

He huffed a laugh back, “She was… not the one.”

-

Sitting in the sweltering Bahrain heat, beads of sweat glistening on your brow, you impatiently awaited the arrival of your helmet, a symbol of the impending battle on the track. The air crackled with anticipation, the thrum of engines and the bustle of the paddock serving as a backdrop to the fevered excitement building within you. Around you, your mechanics moved with precision and purpose, their expert hands ensuring every nut and bolt of your car was meticulously inspected and fine-tuned to perfection. With each passing moment, the tension mounted, a palpable energy that pulsed through the air like an electric current.

And then, as the sun beat down relentlessly, the moment arrived. With a flourish, your helmet was placed in your hands, a potent talisman imbued with the promise of victory. With a steady hand, you secured it in place, the familiar weight settling comfortably on your shoulders like a suit of armour. In that instant, you were no longer just a driver, but a warrior poised for battle, ready to conquer the asphalt and seize glory on the track.

And conquer you did. As the lights went out and the roar of engines filled the air, you surged forward with a fierce determination, every fibre of your being focused on one singular goal: victory. With each corner conquered and each straight conquered, your lead grew, stretching wider and wider with each passing lap. The competition faded into insignificance as you carved through the desert heat like a blazing comet, leaving your rivals in the dust and crossing the finish line with a commanding lead of almost twelve seconds.

As the chequered flag waved in triumph, a surge of adrenaline flooded your veins, mingling with the heady rush of victory and the anticipation of what awaited you beyond the confines of the track. Tonight, amidst the backdrop of celebration and jubilation, you knew that the real race would begin—a battle of passion and desire that would leave you breathless and exhilarated, lost in the fiery embrace of the one who fueled your most primal instincts. With a wolfish grin, you licked your lips in anticipation, the promise of the night ahead igniting a fire within you that burned hotter than the desert sun.

-

As the haze of sleep began to dissipate, Lewis's urgent voice pierced through the fog, pulling you from the depths of slumber into the harsh reality of the moment. With a groan, you rolled over, finding yourself nestled against his side, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the confusion of waking. His words tumbled out in a rush, laden with anxiety and apprehension, as he relayed the unsettling news that threatened to disrupt the fragile equilibrium of your clandestine affair.

Beneath the dim glow of the bedside lamp, you sat up, the cool air of the hotel room sending a shiver down your spine as you focused on the screen of Lewis's phone. The harsh light illuminated the evidence of your indiscretion, casting a harsh spotlight on the secret world you had carefully constructed away from prying eyes. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, a sense of defiance stirred within you, a stubborn refusal to let fear dictate the course of your actions.

Lewis's words were rushed as he spoke of potential repercussions, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that belied his outward confidence. In that moment, your lips sought his in a tender kiss, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes of unspoken longing and shared intimacy. “Calm down, okay, we will be fine.” You said, trying to reassure the both of you

“But they’ll think we’re a couple and–”

“And that's so bad?” You asked, offended.

“What- wha no no no! God, no. You are… great. More than that you’re perfect and I’d be very willing to break my contract if it means to be with you…” He stopped talking, realising he had said all too much. The weight of Lewis's confession hung heavy in the air, his words a potent blend of vulnerability and longing that stirred something deep within you. In the stark silence that followed, the enormity of his revelation washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you reeling in its wake.

For so long, you had danced on the razor's edge of desire, navigating the treacherous waters of secrecy and deceit with practised ease. Yet, in that moment of unguarded honesty, the facade crumbled, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to the tumultuous emotions swirling within.

With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the strands of hair that clung to Lewis's forehead, the touch of your fingertips a tentative gesture of reassurance amidst the uncertainty that threatened to consume you both. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own turmoil, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance that resonated deep within your soul.

"Let's keep this to ourselves," you whispered, the words a sacred vow of secrecy and devotion that echoed in the quiet space between you. Lewis nodded in fervent agreement.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions and uncertain futures, you found solace in the knowledge that you were not alone—that together, you would face whatever trials lay ahead, hand in hand, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and shared understanding. And as you leaned into his embrace, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a silent vow of devotion that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

--

GOD I AM BAD AT ENDINGS FUCK

anyways <3

[femsolid]

“We’re in 2019. Female hair is CENSORED everywhere. You don’t see it on TV. You don’t see it in magazines or adverts. There is an injunction of society for women to remain 'soft' and completely hairless. Just like a little girl. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. Young, skinny, hairless girls have been very popular in the media for years and it makes me wonder. Who's behind it all? Who's perpetuating this message about women looking like adolescent girls? It sometimes feels rather paedophilic. It worries me.” – Camille Alexander. Musician (2019)

“Years ago I did think about getting laser hair removal for my navel hair, but then I realised I'd be paying a couple of hundred pounds just to conform to expectations that I don't even care about– I'd much rather use the money for a holiday or circus lessons! I think that's one of the things which annoys me so much about society and the media's expectation for women to be basically hairless– they're pressuring us to invest serious time and money and endure pain. It's a double standard and it's unfair. Being able to accept your body– hair, scars and all– is freeing. I remember seeing my Aunt Glynis dancing to reggae in the 90s with her armpit hair showing– she looked so confident, happy and free. As a child, I couldn't put my finger on 'why', but I can now. On a practical level, it feels pretty darn good when I consider how much time, money and pain I've saved by accepting my body as it is. I like to think that that memory of my aunt being free and totally comfortable in her own skin is one that I can emulate and pass onto other girls and women. It hasn't always been received well though. At Lambeth County Fair one year, a friend of a friend was seriously freaked out when he saw my armpits. He asked me "what's wrong with you? Why would you do that?!", which was pretty amusing but bewildering. It reminded me there will always be people out there who may react and judge me like that. Thankfully, the opinion of people who think like that means very little to me! For me having hair and not caring is a bit like being part of a secret club. When you notice someone else who is resisting society's expectations and staying hairy you feel solidarity and respect. It's nice to be part of that.” – Isabel (2019)

“As a teenager, I remember trying to stuff myself into a box of what a girl should be like. It always felt uncomfortable; padded bras, shoes that hurt and shaving rash. Running, swimming and climbing have helped me to see the strength and resilience in my body and to love it for what it is. Growing my armpit hair has been a recent experiment and the longer it gets, the more I like it! I like the way it looks & feels. It has given me a new respect for myself. So I say, embrace growth & if it pleases you, let it all grow!” – Jess (2018)

“Shaving, epilating or waxing hurts. I was tired of suffering, trying to adapt to the image of a ‘beautiful young woman’ society is selling us. Everybody told me to shave. As a teenager, it’s a huge subject among girls; where do you shave? What method are you using? It takes so much time and costs so much money (the majority of hair removal products are also not recyclable). All of these reasons coming one after another motivated me to stop shaving. I would often have irritated skin after shaving and being a very sporty person, the sweat and the friction of my clothes would cause pain.The worst thing was having sex on the second day after shaving my vulva. I didn't understand why women would suffer and waste so much time on hiding who they really are. By showing my body hair on stage, I would like to stimulate and change people’s point of view. I’d like to motivate women to make their own choices.”

– Darian Koszinski. Circus artist (2018)

“I stopped shaving completely when I was a teenager because of two instances. The first? I got tired of all the time wasted on maintenance and the discomfort that came with it. The second was when I went on a few multiple week-long backpacking trips; it would have been extremely inconvenient to spend hours ripping my hair out, so I let things grow. Being so close to nature let me dive deeper into and re-examine the relationship with myself and the world, acting as a mirror. In nature, there is wild; it is as beautiful as it is untamed. How could it be anything other than that? I felt so relieved and free when I let it grow out. It felt like being able to breathe. It was incredibly comfortable too. I felt a confidence and boldness returning, like I was replenishing some kind of primal power. I will say that a very pleasant side effect of having armpit hair is its ability to ward off rude people whom I wouldn’t care to interact or associate with anyway. Because the people that care about that sort of thing and make it a point to say how disgusted they are, are precisely the kind of people that I don’t want in my life.”

– Kyotocat (2017)

“At this point in life, I feel that the real question shouldn't be 'why did you let your armpit hair grow?' But actually, 'why did you shave in the first place?' Please celebrate your body! Own who you are and be that! Those who celebrate who and what they are, are creating a much open and safer space for those who are struggling to understand who and what they want to be in life. It might be easier said than done but give it a try. We'll then help create a healthier and understanding society with less bullshit than there already is...”

– Alex Wellburn (2017)

“I never stopped shaving because I never started. I do remember my mother shaving when I was younger and I thought that was pretty unnecessary since she was a strict muslim. I later realised it's a thing women do to look more desirable to men. It really irritated me that the people who reacted negatively to my natural armpit hair were men. Like it was the most disgusting thing in the world. It really gets on my tits. This is just one more reason that I don't shave it off. It belongs to me and I don't make noise about the "ugly"; hair on men which are sometimes pretty painful in the eye... But you've got to get over it and don't let these idiots get under it. I would recommend growing it to any women.”

– Ayan Mohamed. Graduate architecture student (2014)

Natural Beauty Photoshoot

[fireflysummers]

Heroes, Gods, and the Invisible Narrator

Slay the Princess as a Framework for the Cyclical Reproduction of Colonialist Narratives in Data Science & Technology

An Essay by FireflySummers

All images are captioned.

Content Warnings: Body Horror, Discussion of Racism and Colonialism

Spoilers for Slay the Princess (2023) by @abby-howard and Black Tabby Games.

If you enjoy this article, consider reading my guide to arguing against the use of AI image generators or the academic article it's based on.

Introduction: The Hero and the Princess

You're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

Slay the Princess is a 2023 indie horror game by Abby Howard and published through Black Tabby Games, with voice talent by Jonathan Sims (yes, that one) and Nichole Goodnight.

The game starts with you dropped without context in the middle of the woods. But that’s alright. The Narrator is here to guide you. You are the hero, you have your weapon, and you have a monster to slay.

From there, it's the player's choice exactly how to proceed--whether that be listening to the voice of the narrator, or attempting to subvert him. You can kill her as instructed, or sit and chat, or even free her from her chains.

It doesn't matter.

Regardless of whether you are successful in your goal, you will inevitably (and often quite violently) die.

And then...

You are once again on a path in the woods.

The cycle repeats itself, the narrator seemingly none the wiser. But the woods are different, and so is the cabin. You're different, and worse... so is she.

Based on your actions in the previous loop, the princess has... changed. Distorted.

Had you attempted a daring rescue, she is now a damsel--sweet and submissive and already fallen in love with you.

Had you previously betrayed her, she has warped into something malicious and sinister, ready to repay your kindness in full.

But once again, it doesn't matter.

Because the no matter what you choose, no matter how the world around you contorts under the weight of repeated loops, it will always be you and the princess.

Why? Because that’s how the story goes.

So says the narrator.

So now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about data.

Chapter I: Echoes and Shattered Mirrors

The problem with "data" is that we don't really think too much about it anymore. Or, at least, we think about it in the same abstract way we think about "a billion people." It's gotten so big, so seemingly impersonal that it's easy to forget that contemporary concept of "data" in the west is a phenomenon only a couple centuries old [1].

This modern conception of the word describes the ways that we translate the world into words and numbers that can then be categorized and analyzed. As such, data has a lot of practical uses, whether that be putting a rover on mars or tracking the outbreak of a viral contagion. However, this functionality makes it all too easy to overlook the fact that data itself is not neutral. It is gathered by people, sorted into categories designed by people, and interpreted by people. At every step, there are people involved, such that contemporary technology is embedded with systemic injustices, and not always by accident.

The reproduction of systems of oppression are most obvious from the margins. In his 2019 article As If, Ramon Amaro describes the Aspire Mirror (2016): a speculative design project by by Joy Buolamwini that contended with the fact that the standard facial recognition algorithm library had been trained almost exclusively on white faces. The simplest solution was to artificially lighten darker skin-tones for the algorithm to recognize, which Amaro uses to illustrate the way that technology is developed with an assumption of whiteness [2].

This observation applies across other intersections as well, such as trans identity [3], which has been colloquially dubbed "The Misgendering Machine" [4] for its insistence on classifying people into a strict gender binary based only on physical appearance.

This has also popped up in my own research, brought to my attention by the artist @b4kuch1n who has spoken at length with me about the connection between their Vietnamese heritage and the clothing they design in their illustrative work [5]. They call out AI image generators for reinforcing colonialism by stripping art with significant personal and cultural meaning of their context and history, using them to produce a poor facsimile to sell to the highest bidder.

All this describes an iterative cycle which defines normalcy through a white, western lens, with a limited range of acceptable diversity. Within this cycle, AI feeds on data gathered under colonialist ideology, then producing an artifact that reinforces existing systemic bias. When this data is, in turn, once again fed to the machine, that bias becomes all the more severe, and the range of acceptability narrower [2, 6].

Luciana Parisi and Denise Ferreira da Silva touch on a similar point in their article Black Feminist Tools, Critique, and Techno-poethics but on a much broader scale. They call up the Greek myth of Prometheus, who was punished by the gods for his hubris for stealing fire to give to humanity. Parisi and Ferreira da Silva point to how this, and other parts of the “Western Cosmology” map to humanity’s relationship with technology [7].

However, while this story seems to celebrate the technological advancement of humanity, there are darker colonialist undertones. It frames the world in terms of the gods and man, the oppressor and the oppressed; but it provides no other way of being. So instead the story repeats itself, with so-called progress an inextricable part of these two classes of being. This doesn’t bode well for visions of the future, then–because surely, eventually, the oppressed will one day be the machines [7, 8].

It’s… depressing. But it’s only really true, if you assume that that’s the only way the story could go.

“Stories don't care who takes part in them. All that matters is that the story gets told, that the story repeats. Or, if you prefer to think of it like this: stories are a parasitical life form, warping lives in the service only of the story itself.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Chapter II: The Invisible Narrator

So why does the narrator get to call the shots on how a story might go? Who even are they? What do they want? How much power do they actually have?

With the exception of first person writing, a lot of the time the narrator is invisible. This is different from an unreliable narrator. With an unreliable narrator, at some point the audience becomes aware of their presence in order for the story to function as intended. An invisible narrator is never meant to be seen.

In Slay the Princess, the narrator would very much like to be invisible. Instead, he has been dragged out into the light, because you (and the inner voices you pick up along the way), are starting to argue with him. And he doesn’t like it.

Despite his claims that the princess will lie and cheat in order to escape, as the game progresses it’s clear that the narrator is every bit as manipulative–if not moreso, because he actually knows what’s going on. And, if the player tries to diverge from the path that he’s set before them, the correct path, then it rapidly becomes clear that he, at least to start, has the power to force that correct path.

While this is very much a narrative device, the act of calling attention to the narrator is important beyond that context. 

The Hero’s Journey is the true monomyth, something to which all stories can be reduced. It doesn’t matter that the author, Joseph Campbell, was a raging misogynist whose framework flattened cultures and stories to fit a western lens [9, 10]. It was used in Star Wars, so clearly it’s a universal framework.

The metaverse will soon replace the real world and crypto is the future of currency! Never mind that the organizations pushing it are suspiciously pyramid shaped. Get on board or be left behind.

Generative AI is pushed as the next big thing. The harms it inflicts on creatives and the harmful stereotypes it perpetuates are just bugs in the system. Never mind that the evangelists for this technology speak over the concerns of marginalized people [5]. That’s a skill issue, you gotta keep up.

Computers will eventually, likely soon, advance so far as to replace humans altogether. The robot uprising is on the horizon [8]. 

Who perpetuates these stories? What do they have to gain?

Why is the only story for the future replications of unjust systems of power? Why must the hero always slay the monster?

Because so says the narrator. And so long as they are invisible, it is simple to assume that this is simply the way things are.

Chapter III: The End...?

This is the part where Slay the Princess starts feeling like a stretch, but I’ve already killed the horse so I might as well beat it until the end too.

Because what is the end result here?

According to the game… collapse. A recursive story whose biases narrow the scope of each iteration ultimately collapses in on itself. The princess becomes so sharp that she is nothing but blades to eviscerate you. The princess becomes so perfect a damsel that she is a caricature of the trope. The story whittles itself away to nothing. And then the cycle begins anew.

There’s no climactic final battle with the narrator. He created this box, set things in motion, but he is beyond the player’s reach to confront directly. The only way out is to become aware of the box itself, and the agenda of the narrator. It requires acknowledgement of the artificiality of the roles thrust upon you and the Princess, the false dichotomy of hero or villain.

Slay the Princess doesn’t actually provide an answer to what lies outside of the box, merely acknowledges it as a limit that can be overcome. 

With regards to the less fanciful narratives that comprise our day-to-day lives, it’s difficult to see the boxes and dichotomies we’ve been forced into, let alone what might be beyond them. But if the limit placed is that there are no stories that can exist outside of capitalism, outside of colonialism, outside of rigid hierarchies and oppressive structures, then that limit can be broken [12].

Denouement: Doomed by the Narrative

Video games are an interesting artistic medium, due to their inherent interactivity. The commonly accepted mechanics of the medium, such as flavor text that provides in-game information and commentary, are an excellent example of an invisible narrator. Branching dialogue trees and multiple endings can help obscure this further, giving the player a sense of genuine agency… which provides an interesting opportunity to drag an invisible narrator into the light.

There are a number of games that have explored the power differential between the narrator and the player (The Stanley Parable, Little Misfortune, Undertale, Buddy.io, OneShot, etc…)

However, Slay the Princess works well here because it not only emphasizes the artificial limitations that the narrator sets on a story, but the way that these stories recursively loop in on themselves, reinforcing the fears and biases of previous iterations. 

Critical data theory probably had nothing to do with the game’s development (Abby Howard if you're reading this, lmk). However, it works as a surprisingly cohesive framework for illustrating the ways that we can become ensnared by a narrative, and the importance of knowing who, exactly, is narrating the story. Although it is difficult or impossible to conceptualize what might exist beyond the artificial limits placed by even a well-intentioned narrator, calling attention to them and the box they’ve constructed is the first step in breaking out of this cycle.

“You can't go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it's just a cage.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Epilogue

If you've read this far, thank you for your time! This was an adaptation of my final presentation for a Critical Data Studies course. Truthfully, this course posed quite a challenge--I found the readings of philosophers such as Kant, Adorno, Foucault, etc... difficult to parse. More contemporary scholars were significantly more accessible. My only hope is that I haven't gravely misinterpreted the scholars and researchers whose work inspired this piece.

I honestly feel like this might have worked best as a video essay, but I don't know how to do those, and don't have the time to learn or the money to outsource.

Slay the Princess is available for purchase now on Steam.

Screencaps from ManBadassHero Let's Plays: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Post Dividers by @cafekitsune

Citations:

Rosenberg, D. (2018). Data as word. Historical Studies in the Natural Sciences, 48(5), 557-567.

Amaro, Ramon. (2019). As If. e-flux Architecture. Becoming Digital. https://www.e-flux.com/architecture/becoming-digital/248073/as-if/

What Ethical AI Really Means by PhilosophyTube

Keyes, O. (2018). The misgendering machines: Trans/HCI implications of automatic gender recognition. Proceedings of the ACM on human-computer interaction, 2(CSCW), 1-22.

Allred, A.M., Aragon, C. (2023). Art in the Machine: Value Misalignment and AI “Art”. In: Luo, Y. (eds) Cooperative Design, Visualization, and Engineering. CDVE 2023. Lecture Notes in Computer Science, vol 14166. Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-43815-8_4

Amaro, R. (2019). Artificial Intelligence: warped, colorful forms and their unclear geometries.

Parisisi, L., Ferreira da Silva, D. Black Feminist Tools, Critique, and Techno-poethics. e-flux. Issue #123. https://www.e-flux.com/journal/123/436929/black-feminist-tools-critique-and-techno-poethics/

AI - Our Shiny New Robot King | Sophie from Mars by Sophie From Mars

Joseph Campbell and the Myth of the Monomyth | Part 1 by Maggie Mae Fish

Joseph Campbell and the N@zis | Part 2 by Maggie Mae Fish

How Barbie Cis-ified the Matrix by Jessie Gender

[yandere-fetish]

Story Thought 💭

I've had this story idea since 2019 but I haven't had time. Here's a sneak peak. Should I continue or nah?

warnings: kidnap, yandere, possesive

Jacques is pronounced Jocks in French, but is pronounced in English as Jah-k-x.

"Where are we going?"

It was dark inside of his house as he led me down the stairs in the dark. I was slightly afraid since this was my first time over at his house. His hand was securely in mine as he grabbed a hold of my waist with his other.

"Jacques?"

"It's okay, baby. Trust me," his voice was smooth and soft as he whispered those words into my ear. Swallowing a giggle, I nod my head. "Good girl," his thick accent made me squeamish as he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his chin onto my shoulder blade.

His torso felt so nice on my back as he curled up to me from behind. I let a smile glide onto my face as he led me to the garage— from what I assumed. He had pulled me to a stopping point and I began to reach out for something. Before I knew what was happening, he was gliding me into the garage.

The coldness bit at my skin, making me shiver from the feeling. "Jacques, why is it so dark in—"

I was pushed onto a car. A gasp left my mouth as I felt the coldness of the car touch my naked skin. The clothes I had on were somewhat helpful with the cold. Before I had time to adjust to the temperature of the metal, I felt Jacques in front of me. His lips caught mine as he grabs my legs and hoisted me up onto the trunk of the car that I have yet to see.

I was so taken aback by the kiss that I had let Jacques' tongue into my mouth. I gasped at the feeling and let out a sound when he pulled me closer to his body, kissing me harder. When he pulled away, I barely knew how to react. Jacques had taken my first kiss.

What do you even do after having your first kiss?

"You're the one, (Y/N)." Jacques said in that perfect French accent. "And you're all mine," he kissed me once more before I felt him pull his hands behind my back.

Rope bound around my wrists and I pull away from Jacques. I was about to say something when he finished with the rope and gagged me. My eyes widened at his sudden act. I was soon blindfolded. I began kicking my feet as much as I could and tried to make as much noise as I could. However, I knew no one was going to hear me.

Jacques picked me off of the hood once he was able to tie my ankles together. I tried moving as much as I could, but as soon as I was placed in the backseat of the car, I started to cry. I felt his lips on my noise as he caressed my cheek with his slender fingers.

"Don't worry, mon amour," his accent was rich and made a shiver run down my spine, "I'm bringing you home."

Teenager (Y/N) has no idea what life has in store for her. She is a normal teenager with an attitude and worries. But for some reason, she can never land a date. And she doesn't really want to either.

On the first day back from winter break, there's a new kid in school and he's in her French class. But get this, he's French. He had the accent, the style, and the chivalry down to a T.

He's the perfect gentleman.

So when he suddenly takes interest in her, she doesn't know what to think. And the fact that she's failed on one test in French, doesn't help her at all.

And so the tutoring of French begins!

But when Jacques confesses that he likes her, he tutors her for free. It's all fun and games until she's kidnapped by him and shipped across the world.

Now (Y/N) must deal with his bitter ex-lover, the siblings, and the French culture.

Oh, and let's not forget the fact that his parents are the ones who want more grandchildren. Now.

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Cold Nights | Kim Hongjoong

Summary: it's a cold night and bf!Hongjoong has stolen the blanket

Notes: made back in 2019 as a request

Warnings: short af

There was a sudden rush of cold air washing over my skin, causing goosebumps to form. In the moment of change, I had slowly become more awake over time. My eyes were adjusting to the dark and my mind was coming back from dream land, just briefly fluctuating between the two world's. That was, until I realized, the large duvet blanket now barely hanging off my one leg.

I recognized the culprit behind why I had suddenly awakened to the cool bedroom setting, rather than be cocooned in my forever relaxing blanket. There beside me was a wrapped and warm Hongjoong lightly snoring away. He had most likely fallen into dream land himself after a hard day at work. And as he did, he yanked away my comfort to the opposite side of the bed.

"You're kidding," I mutter under my breath. I rub my eyes, sitting up and turning to stare at the person I claimed to love. He was resting so peacefully, I had to truthfully debate on whether I could take back my happiness and leave him empty. But then I remembered he had no literal care for my discomfort and gripped the blanket tightly. In a few large tugs, the blanket was unrolled from his body and I could take it back to my side.

I snuggled deep into the covers in satisfaction. Beside me Hongjoong stirred in his sleep, now feeling the same cold air I had once felt prior. I had smiled smugly, knowing that now I was happy and ready to sleep again. Yet, as I began to lay down, a hand grabbed back the blanket.

"What are you doing?" Hongjoong says lowly into the night, fingers curled around my prized possession. "Why are you taking the whole blanket?"

I scrunched my nose. "Me?! You nearly froze me to death by cuddling yourself into a corner and keeping your warmth. I have nothing!"

Upon hearing my words he chuckles, brushing back his long hair with his free hand before sitting up more. "Baby, we can share the blanket. I promise I will try not to steal it completely."

I shook my head. "Not a chance. You can get one from the closet. I refuse to die of hypothermia in my own home."

Hongjoong sighs at my dramatic words, pulling on the blankets again before flattening them out. He throws both ends over our shoulders before wrapping his arms around my waist. Through his sleepy self, he slowly managed to scoot against me before snuggling his head atop of my own.

"Now sleep, my love. We both have work in the morning."

I could feel the fatigue take over, weighing in my eyes and mind to have me sleep. I was going to give in completely to this feeling when I decided to turn to my side.

"Joong?" I call out, hoping he hadn't fallen back to sleep quite yet.

"Hmm?"

"You are so warm."

My hands reach up to softly trace over his features, knowing that I could just imagine the perfect smile of his in my head. Although too dark to tell, the rising of his lips could be felt under the tip of my fingers. He moves his mouth to place small and gentle kisses on my fingers.

I pulled him closer as the warmth of him was becoming addicting. "It's because you stole my blanket."

[foliosriot]

Am I Fuckable?

my gif, please give credit if you use it. thank you!

pairing: vinny mauro x reader

warnings: lots of teasing. vinny being an annoying fuck (affectionate). unprotected p in v sex. hair pulling. vocal vinny for the win!! lots of love bites and hickeys. if i missed anything please let me know! 18+ only MDNI or i’ll block you.

a/n: this is heavily inspired and based on Photoshoot BTS 2019 from ricky’s youtube channel hehe

tags: @concretenoah @circle-with-me @smokeynaomi @popppylove @somebodyels3 @rottingfern @monotoniscreaming @bngurngheart @agravemisstake

New York City is insane.

Simply trying to find a parking spot in the middle of the night is difficult, and that alone is reason enough for you to never move here.

Ryan had been driving around the same couple blocks for what felt like hours searching for somewhere to park. You could hear AJ talking to, what you assume is, Ricky and his video camera. However you can’t tell what’s being said, everyone’s voices having melded together in your brain a long while ago.

You have your head resting on Vinny’s shoulder, the same position you’ve been in long before arriving in NYC. You had been attempting to sleep, and was successful at one point! Then the frustration and exhaustion permeating throughout the van was stifling and forced you awake.

The only place you know you’ll be able to properly fall asleep is the hotel bed that’s waiting for you.

It feels like an eternity before Vinny moves his hand from your thigh to your hand that had been resting limply in your lap. His fingers slot between yours, followed by a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, mama.” His voice is quiet in your ear. “We we can go up to the hotel now. Come on.”

You groan into Vinny’s shoulder but lift your head anyways. The interior lights of the van are on, and everyone is filing out. Vinny gives you a loving smile as he hops out as well, then turns to take your hand. You graciously but tiredly accept and allow him to help you exit the van to get your bags from the trunk.

With bags in hand and the vehicle locked, Ryan leads everyone back towards the parking garage entrance. You’re holding onto Vinny’s hand and attempting to lean your head on his shoulder once more as you walk. It’s proving to be a bit difficult, but you manage just well enough as you walk inside the hotel.

Your friends go a different direction as you, Vinny, and Ricky walk another way. You struggle to move your legs as exhaustion is settling into your limbs. But then Ricky’s unlocking one of the room doors and leading you and Vinny in.

Once in the hotel room, you blearily watch Ricky set his bags down before heading to the bathroom. While he’s in there Vinny helps you get undressed and into your pajamas, which consists of one of his t-shirts and a pair of leggings. The feeling of his warm hands against your skin is making you even sleepier.

He’s got you situated under the covers and your pillow is so soft and you’re just so tired…

What seems like only a second later Vinny is sliding in to bed next to you. In your half awake state you inch closer to him until he’s curling one of his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. With your face buried in his neck you comfortably fall asleep.

In the morning, you’re rudely awoken by Vinny jostling around. Without opening your eyes you can tell he’s trying to get out of bed, but you still have your body wrapped around him, much like a koala bear.

“Baby, baby.” You feel Vinny’s hand running up and down your back. “You gotta let go of me so we can get ready.”

You mumble a bout of nonsense without releasing him from your grip. He chuckles softly. Then he’s kissing your head and proceeds to gently pry you off of him. You grumble and groan as your hands and arms are dislodged from your boyfriend, thus freeing him from the bed and you.

Vinny maneuvers you back in to a comfy position, and plants a trio of light kisses to your cheek.

“You can sleep for a few more minutes,” he murmurs in your ear. “Then you gotta get up, okay, babe?”

His voice is gentle as he talks to you, but you don’t want to listen to him. You want to stay in bed all day with him and cuddle until you’re set to leave New York. But you know you’ll have to get up eventually. So you grunt in response and listen to Vinny make his way to the bathroom.

A couple minutes later the hotel door opens and you lift your head at the smell of coffee. Ricky enters your line of sight and you see that he holds a tray of various drinks. He smiles when he notices you peeking out of the covers.

“Morning. Vin told me your order,” Ricky tells you as he approaches the bedside. He takes one of the drinks from the tray and holds it out for you. He waits until you’re shoving yourself out of the hotel blankets, and you go to take it from him.

“Thank you, Rick,” you say in a sleepy voice.

You go to take a sip of the drink he got. And as soon as the liquid meets your tongue you sigh in satisfaction. Vinny knew exactly what you would have wanted, and that has your heart swelling. You continue to drink the beverage as you watch Ricky set his and Vinny’s drinks down and go to pick up his camera. He does a quick little update while walking around the hotel room, appearing to be mindful to keep you out of shot because he knows you don’t like being on camera all that much.

Once you’ve downed most of your drink you decide it’s probably time for you to get ready. With the remainder of your drink on the nightstand and your feet on the floor, you gather the clothes you’ll need for the day and your toiletries before knocking on the bathroom door. You find it unlocked and go in.

From behind the shower curtain Vinny calls out your name.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you answer back, setting down your things on the countertop and on the lid of the toilet. “Hope it’s okay if I’m in here getting ready.”

“Totally okay, babe,” Vinny replies over the sound of the water. “Almost done anyways.”

You pay no mind to his words whilst changing out of your pajamas, letting them settle in a pool of fabric off to the side on the tile. You’re slipping on a fresh pair of undergarments just as the shower water turns off. Then the curtain is pushed open and you watch Vinny step out through the condensation that’s accumulated on the surface of the mirror. He pauses when he sees you standing there. Then he’s stepping up behind you, the heat of his body radiating at your back. The smell of his shampoo is suddenly overwhelming. And his hands are resting tentatively on your hips.

The small space is steadily growing more and more suffocating. Your stomach is tightening at the feeling of Vinny’s hands on your skin, now firmly holding onto you. The buzzing hum of the fan is the only sound, and it has your head spinning. Or it’s because Vinny is now pressed up right against you.

“Vin.”

There's a slight warning in your voice, but you’re quiet when you say it. You can feel Vinny’s breath on your shoulder and neck. You then meet his gaze through the mirror’s fog. His eyes are dark and there is a very specific emotion nestled in their depths that ignites a dull fire deep down in your gut.

“Vinny.”

This time, you force your voice to be firmer. Your heart is racing, your ears are ringing, and you can feel slivers of water running down your backside from wherever Vinny’s own body has made contact with yours. He blinks slowly, humming his acknowledgement.

“You need to dry off,” you remind him, your voice undoubtedly wavering.

Vinny doesn’t say anything. All he does is lean in and presses his lips to you, his breath scalding hot against your bare skin. Neither of you speak while he’s leaving prolonged, open-mouthed kisses from one shoulder to the base of your neck, and then all the way across to the other shoulder.

With each touch of his lips a wave of goosebumps flutters down your body. Your spine is tingling and you’re struggling to repress a shudder. Vinny’s hands are ascending slowly, his fingers grazing roughly along your stomach and ribcage.

You aren’t quite sure what’s gotten into him, but you’re enjoying it. He nips gently at your flesh and it has you leaning your head back.

At one particular spot on your shoulder, Vinny takes his time. He’s gnawing and sucking at your skin. His tongue meets the hickey before he’s biting at it, and you’re seeing stars.

But then he’s pulling away. The warmth of his body suddenly disappears, and your head is forced back up. You whip around to see Vinny casually drying himself off, to which he proceeds to wrap the towel around his frame and then exits the bathroom with a soft click of the door.

And now, you are incredibly confused while simultaneously craving Vinny’s touch once more.

What the fuck was that for?

With confusion encasing your veins, you manage to finish getting ready in the confines of the tiny bathroom. Your breathing is slightly labored and you have been muttering to yourself for the past few minutes, cursing Vinny’s name.

When you’re done in the bathroom, you gather your things and walk out into the room. Sitting down on the bed you’re sharing with Vinny you pull on your shoes and throw your hair up with the hair-tie on your wrist, then proceed to scroll through your phone.

Ricky has his camera out and you’re only half listening to the conversation at hand. You had seen Vinny fiddling with the buttons of the suit jacket he had on, but you rightfully ignored him.

“Are you not supposed to button the top one or the bottom one?” Vinny asks.

“Uh, I don’t think you’re supposed to button the bottom one,” Ricky answers him hesitantly.

Vinny continues messing with his suit as he faces the large mirror on the opposite side of the room, the one hanging on the wall behind you. You look up from your phone to see him looking at himself in the mirror, then turning your attention back to the screen with an inaudible scoff.

“Dang, I’m fuckin’ hot,” he says. And it’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to glance back up at him.

God, you have no idea, you asshole.

You bite down on your tongue, and say nothing.

“What do you think, camera? Am I fuckable?” You’re beginning to taste copper on your tastebuds. “I think I’m not.”

Vinny laughs softly, and it has your pulse thumping even harder. You barely hear his exchange with Ricky because the blood roaring in your ears is far too loud.

He steps past you and gives you a sweet smile. You aren’t able to properly process the gesture until he’s already out of sight.

You’re hoping Ricky doesn’t notice how your demeanor has changed now that Vinny isn’t present. You can feel your face reddening with blush, and you know your overall vibe has shifted. If Ricky does notice, that’s a disaster just waiting to happen.

Once Vinny is done in the bathroom, after having changed his clothes, the three of you gather all of your things before leaving the room. You were the one to grab the keycards so you hung back to stuff them into your bag while Ricky and Vinny headed towards the elevators.

And with this moment to yourself you take a very deep, grounding breath. Then you’re walking away from your little bubble of quiet, trying to ignore the simmering heat at the base of your stomach.

Vinny is talking to the camera when you walk up. You choose to remain at Ricky’s back.

“We’re about to go to the photography studio.” The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You watch Ricky walk in backwards as he keeps the camera on Vinny. You hesitate before stepping in. “And wait a really long time to get our pictures taken. And then once our pictures are taken, they’ll be added to publications, posters, tour ad, MADS. Just anything you can think of.”

Through the floor to ceiling mirrors of the elevator you can clearly see Vinny smile at the camera just as the doors are opening. Vinny reaches back to grab your hand and pull you after him, with Ricky following close behind.

Ryan, Justin, and AJ are waiting for you when you step out of the hotel proper. Their voices bounce off the concrete walls of the parking garage and accumulate just to harshly harmonize in your ears. You grind your teeth as everyone finally gets in to the van.

In the van you choose to sit beside Ricky in the second row, leaving Vinny and Justin alone in the back. Vinny had pouted when he saw you slide into the seat next to Ricky, but thankfully hadn’t said anything. You’re not sure what you would have done if he had, indeed, said something.

Ryan is pulling out of the parking garage and AJ is addressing the camera in Ricky’s hands; meanwhile, Vinny has shifted forward in his seat to press a kiss to your head. It has your potent anxiety easing its death grip on your heart. Until he’s pressing another kiss to the exposed skin just behind your ear. Your anxiety immediately spikes as he rests his head to the back of your skull for a few more moments.

“I love you,” he murmurs. With one more kiss to that exposed skin he finally leans back in his seat.

You mumble the three words back to him, though you know he couldn’t hear. You loose a light sigh and internally prepare for a long day.

Because of your position as Motionless In White’s MUA, the only reason you came on this trip was to help with makeup. Well, that, and because Vinny wanted you to come with so badly.

So, having arrived at the photography studio, you began setting up the things you would need at one of the vanities provided.

And you know the guys would have been just fine doing their own makeup without you there. However, Vinny is ever persistent and slightly annoying when it comes to these things. So you had agreed to come with, despite having told Chris it wouldn’t be a big deal if you couldn’t tag along.

But Chris being Chris, he had been more than happy to have you be there.

Yay.

Now, here you are, helping Ryan with his makeup as you watch Vinny and Ricky mess around with Ricky’s camera. You keep them in your periphery as to not get distracted and mess up what you’re doing. But that duo is severely distracting, and you nearly mess up what your current task when you catch yourself watching Vinny for a moment too long.

(Actually, it was Ryan asking if you were okay, thus snapping you out of your daze.)

As you’re finishing up helping Ryan, Vinny waltzes over to you. He casually grabs at your waist when he halts beside you. You’re surprised you don’t implode at the contact.

“Okay, you’re all good to go,” you rush out to Ryan.

Ryan gives you a small smile. “Thanks,” he says as he looks into the vanity’s mirror. “You always make me look so much cooler than I actually am.”

“Pfft, shut the fuck up, you’re always cool,” you tell him, as you’re desperately trying to ignore Vinny’s presence.

Ryan thanks you again whilst getting up from the seat you’d had him sitting in, and he walks over to where Chris is currently getting his photos taken. Which leaves you alone with Vinny for the time being. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and it’s causing your head to spin like a top.

Vinny pulls you closer to him, until you’re falling into his chest. He has himself propped up against the vanity and had simply tugged you towards him until gravity took over, and had you almost toppling over onto him. But the arm now around your waist is tight and firm as he keeps his hold on you.

“Hi,” he greets you in a soft voice.

“Hi,” you say back, and you hate how breathless you sound.

“You okay?” he asks. He takes his free hand and plays with a piece of hair that had come loose. His fingers keep brushing your heated cheek, and you are almost at your limit.

You don’t respond right away. Instead, you flick your gaze all over Vinny’s face for a few moments, just taking in his features and the makeup that is painting his skin. That burning hot knot is sizzling in your stomach, and sinking lower and lower as the seconds go by. It’s honestly remarkable you haven’t dragged Vinny off to a secluded corner yet.

You breathe in deeply.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you tell him.

Vinny locks eyes with you and smiles softly; you’re sure you could even call it innocent with the way his eyes are crinkling just slightly.

“Just wanted to make sure,” he says.

Someone calls his name and you both know it’s his turn to get his individual photos taken. He leans in to kiss you, and you think you may be hallucinating when you feel his tongue shoving its way into your mouth.

But you don’t have time to process that before he’s stepping away and heading over to the photographer. You’re left even more confused than this morning. And you definitely do not like whatever game Vinny is playing.

Now that you have nothing to do, you step off to the side and watch Vinny get his photos done, despite the anger and frustration rippling through you. Seeing him be so nonchalant and unbothered has your blood boiling and your head pounding.

“Yeah, fuckable, my ass,” you mutter under your breath.

“Sorry, what?”

“Holy shit!”

The jumpscare’s origin comes from your right, to which you turn and see Chris looking at you. He has a concerned look on his face, despite the bemused quirk of his lips, and almost seems sheepish as you brace a hand on your chest. Your heart is racing from beneath your palm as you face him. With your other hand you swat at him.

“Don’t fucking do that, Chris!” you scold him. “You could’ve given me a heart attack, you dick.”

Chris chuckles. “Jesus, sorry,” he says through the small smile he wears. “I won’t do it again.”

You roll your eyes. You know he’ll do it again.

“Okay, but I’m curious now. What were you talking to yourself about that had you saying ‘fuckable, my ass’?” he asks. “And don’t say nothing.”

You sigh heavily, dropping your arms to hang limply at your sides. You glance over at Vinny for only a moment. But Chris is not very discreet as he follows your gaze.

“Ohhhh,” he muses. He looks back at you. “Yeah, that’ll do it, I’m sure.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter as you whack Chris in the chest once more. “He’s an asshole. And it would make me feel better if you just agreed with me.”

Chris gives you a small smile. “Oh, yeah, of course. Vinny is an asshole for reasons unknown.”

“I hate you.”

The smile on Chris’ face grows as he says, “Love you too.”

You glare up at him before he walks away. You’re beginning to nibble on your lip when you see him approach Ricky, and the two men immediately fall in to conversation.

But they’re both glancing over at you from time to time. And your blood is uncomfortably hot.

Throughout the rest of the time you’re at the photography studio you keep to yourself. Vinny is still pissing you off and seems to have noticed your mood. And whether or not he knows he is the sole cause and primary aggravator, well, that is still up for debate. He hasn’t tried to touch you or talk to you since you had finished Ryan’s makeup, however long ago that was. But it’s honestly quite alright; if Vinny had tried to even step towards you, you probably would have done something you’d regret in the end.

Once the photoshoot is complete, you begin packing up your things as everyone else changes and removes their makeup. The studio staff are taking down the lights and the backdrop the band had been posed in front of. You tune out all the noise as you continue putting all of your makeup supplies back into your bag, hoping you can finish your task without anyone acknowledging you.

But god forbid you have any peace.

Justin comes up to you, his face clean and wearing his normal attire. The sight of him does, however, release a minute amount of tension from your chest.

“Hey, we’re gonna head to a bar for some drinks and food,” he informs you. “You wanna come with? It’s, like, a block from the hotel so you could leave whenever you want.”

You could not be any more thankful for Justin than you are in this present moment. He is unknowingly giving you an out so you could rot alone in the hotel room until everyone gets back from the bar. You could fucking kiss him right now.

You’re about to give Justin your answer when Vinny sidles up next to you. He immediately throws an arm around your torso, and he slips his hand beneath your shirt before he is subtly digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip. Your pulse is positively erratic at the contact; it would be a miracle if Vinny couldn’t hear your heartbeat.

“You comin’ out with us?” he asks you as he shoots Justin a glance. You watch Justin scowl at Vinny for a split second before they’re both looking at you.

And the way Vinny is staring at you has you burning all over.

His soft brown eyes are tracing your features, but there is a heat to them that you have seen countless times today alone. The blood coursing through your veins no longer feels like a raging, untamable fire. Instead, it burns like an acid eating away at your nervous system and sheer will. And god fucking dammit, you can’t say no to Vinny.

“Uh, y-yeah, I’ll go,” you tell the two men. You look back at Justin. “I’ll go for a couple hours, I guess.”

“Awesome. Let’s go,” Vinny says with a smile.

Justin turns and walks away, thus abandoning you in your time of need. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You need Vinny to back away, or you’re going to burst into flames.

Vinny pecks your cheek but his lips linger on your skin. He squeezes your side, and you can feel the gentle stroke of his thumb on your hip bone. His mouth shifts to yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. No, instead of kissing you, he just lets his lips rest against your own. You’re dizzy as you breathe him in and your eyes have slipped closed and you need him so badly—

“Mama,” Vinny breathes into your mouth. “We gotta go.”

He’s moving back before you find the strength to speak. But he’s already pulling away when you manage to blink away the haze over your eyes. Frustration encases your heart and mind when he sticks out his hand, wordlessly asking you to take it and follow him. Well, good thing you would follow him to the ends of the earth, or else you would be feeling very differently right now. You say nothing as you thread your fingers through his, letting him lead you out of the studio.

On the drive back in the direction of the hotel, you were able to convince AJ to let you have shotgun, so he could be stuck in the back and you could theoretically be miles away from Vinny. You were quiet as Ryan drove, once again blocking out the conversation in the van and watching New York pass by in a blur.

Ryan parks back in the hotel’s parking garage. Everyone hops out and then makes their outside in the direction of the bar. Vinny hurries to your side to hold your hand, and doesn’t try anything on the short walk. It honestly has you infuriated.

The bar is small and cozy. It’s got a comforting rustic vibe to it, and there are already a handful patrons scattered around. There’s a few sitting at the bar itself and a couple others seated at the tables throughout the space. You notice that no one is over at the pool table playing a game. You almost walk over there before Vinny is detaching himself from you just to do the same with AJ, Justin, and Chris.

Grumbling under your breath you step towards the bar instead. You sit down on one of the stools and patiently wait for the bartender. The music playing through a series of speakers is distracting you, at least.

The bartender, a large man with a short bushy beard and tattoos crawling up his exposed neck and arms, approaches you. He has a kind smile on his face as he stands in front of you on the other side of the counter.

“Evenin’. What can I get for ya, darlin’?” he asks, a slight twang to his voice. There’s a kind gleam in his eyes as he watches you.

You hesitate for a moment before you say, “Gin and coke, please.”

“Comin’ right up.”

He steps away to make your drink, and your eyes immediately trail back to the pool table on the opposite end of the room. Vinny is clearly taking his turn in the game happening right now. He’s bent over the table with the pool cue angled at one of the scattered balls atop the green felt. Then he jerks his arm and the white ball strikes into a cluster of solids and stripes. You hear him groan in frustration.

His hair bounces on his shoulders as he steps back for the next person’s turn. There’s still that ache all the way down in your center, and you cannot possibly stand it any longer. You slot your tongue between your teeth and bite down as hard as you can.

Just then, the bartender walks back over to you and sets down your gin and coke on the wooden surface of the bar with a napkin beneath it.

“There you go, darlin’,” he says.

“God, thank you so much,” you tell him with a slight smile. You reach into your bag and hand him your card.

The man takes your card to pay for your drink and you’re left alone once more. You sip at your beverage, relishing in the feeling of the alcohol on your tastebuds. You’re wanting to get some sleep tonight so you are only planning on the one drink, so you’re going to savor the taste.

But then your card is back with you and your eyes are darting around the bar. And there is Vinny, that motherfucker. It doesn’t seem to be his turn yet, so he’s leaning up against the wall and watching Justin play. Vinny’s face lights up when he smiles at his friend’s obvious failure. His laugh carries across the room, the sound ten times louder than the music to your ringing ears.

It’s difficult, but you manage to finally look away from Vinny, purposefully ignoring his presence in your peripheries. You need to distract yourself from the image of him laughing and talking with his friends.

That’s how you end up making eye contact with Ricky, who had definitely already been watching you. He’s sitting at the bar closest to the pool table. There’s a barely-there smirk on his face. You pinch your eyebrows together in confusion and tilt your head a bit in a silent question of what’s up. All he does is raise his own brow in reply.

Then he’s flicking his gaze off to the side, and you don’t have to guess in order to know what he’s referring to. Ricky meets your eyes once more and you send him a mean glare with your middle finger aimed in his direction. You see him chuckle a bit before you’re turning away.

You’re trying your best to keep both Vinny and Ricky out of your sights, which results in you playing with the hair-tie encircling your wrist. But then your phone buzzes from its position on the bar before you.

Ricky Whore-or: Chris said I can bunk with him tonight btw. We’re gonna leave in a few minutes to grab my stuff from our hotel room

You’re going to kill that man.

You look up from your phone to see Ricky looking at his own phone as he talks to Chris. Then he sets the device down and you receive another text.

Ricky Whore-or: P.S. you’re not very subtle, so don’t ever say I’ve never done anything for you ;)

Yeah, you’re gonna fucking kill him.

You don’t bother replying to his texts or acknowledging his existence any more. The alcohol settling in your stomach suddenly feels like lead.

A few minutes later you’re joined at the bar by Ryan. He has a beer in his hand and he strikes up a conversation with you. He may not know it, but he is doing you a great service by distracting you. Because you aren’t sure how long you two had been talking and laughing for before you notice your glass is empty and his is gone as well, another opened bottle sitting next to it.

Before you know it, you see Ricky, Chris, and AJ waving goodbye and leaving the bar. Ricky sends you a smug smile that you flip him off for. He just laughs and disappears from view.

Maybe another twenty minutes later is when Vinny finally comes over to you. Justin is on his heels, and sits down on the stool on the other side of Ryan. Vinny chooses to stand right behind you with an arm curling around you. You notice his grip is much tighter than what it has been previously today.

“You guys staying?” Vinny’s question is directed at his bandmates. There’s a vague hardness to his voice that has your eyebrows scrunching with confusion.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up in a few minutes,” Ryan says as Justin nods.

Vinny is then immediately tugging you to your feet and dragging you towards the door. You quickly say goodnight to Ryan and Justin before you’re outside of the bar.

The short walk back to the hotel is fast paced, with Vinny gripping your hand and essentially dragging you after him. You consider saying something to ease the apparent tension mingling in between you. But Vinny doesn’t appear to be interested in conversing so you keep quiet.

When you make it to the hotel and go for the elevator, Vinny keeps an arm around you, like you would float away if he let go. And then you’re stepping out of the elevator then down the hall to your room. You fish out the keycard and unlock the door.

The moment the door shuts behind you and you hear the indicating click of it being locked once more Vinny’s hands are on you. He turns you around to face him, and his lips are immediately on yours.

Your hands cup either side of his face while his are grabbing at your waist. Your lips are moving against each other haphazardly, with little to no grace in the act. He’s licking into your mouth and you whine as he shuffles you backwards.

The backs of your legs make contact with the bed, then Vinny is lowering you onto the mattress. He leans down with you, careful not to break the heated kiss.

Vinny’s hands are roving all over your body; he can’t seem to make up his mind and touch you in a singular place. One of his hands snakes up your shirt and the other moves to rest on your neck. You shudder slightly at the sudden sting of his cold rings on your skin.

But then he’s pulling away. Disappointment flashes in your chest as you watch him sit up through hooded eyes, although he keeps the one hand gently gripping your neck. You’re caged in by his legs, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s going to continue this stupid game of his.

You grab at his shirt and tightly bunch the fabric up in your fists.

“Vin, what the fuck?” you snap.

He looks down you with a weird look on his face.

“What?” he pants above you. “What do you mean what the fuck?”

“First, the bathroom this morning—“ His thumb brushing at the center of your throat has you faltering for a moment. “A-And then constantly touching me and teasing me. I have needed you all day. God, you’re a fucking asshole.”

Vinny’s lips stretch into a grin in realization.

“I love teasing you and getting you all worked up,” he admits. He leans back into your space and begins pressing kisses to your jawline. “It’s just.. so much fun.”

Your eyes are threatening to roll back in your head as Vinny makes his way down your jaw to your pulse point. He stops his kisses and proceeds to nip and suck at your skin, carelessly giving you a hickey that will definitely be hard to cover up in the morning.

“But at the bar…” His voice vibrates against your throat. “Maybe I’d teased you a little too much. Maybe I was being an asshole … But you were too close to Ryan and he was making you laugh—“

“Oh, my god.” You laugh at Vinny’s halfhearted admission. He bites your skin in retaliation. “Y-You were jealous of Ryan? Jesus christ, Vin. I love Ryan, but is he the one on top of me right now?”

Vinny mumbles into your neck before he’s pulling away and looking down at you. His face is flushed and his lips are swollen and red. You speak again before he has a chance to.

“Maybe I should flirt with your bandmates more often if it means you’ll take me to bed afterwards,” you remark casually with a smile.

You were trying to be joking and playful, but Vinny doesn’t look amused. He’s glaring down at you with his mouth in a tight line. You then prop yourself up on your elbows so your face is closer to his.

“Hey. I love you, okay?” you tell him. You see his eyes catch on your lips as you talk. “I’m in love with you, not anyone else. I’m sorry, baby. I love you.”

Vinny stays quiet for a moment. Then his hand is back at your throat, a very light pressure being applied by his fingertips. You gasp sharply at the suddenness of the act, but you can see Vinny’s eyes gradually softening at he continues to look down at you.

“I love you, too,” he murmurs.

You offer him a smile, to which he returns.

“Now, can you do something, please?” you ask.

“Yeah? Like what?” Vinny leans back in to kiss you. But this is slow and steady, an agonizing pace compared to a few minutes ago.

You hum into the kiss without bothering to attempt at replying. Vinny is languidly kissing you, taking his sweet time and savoring every touch of your lips. He pries your mouth open with his tongue and there’s a sliver of your being that believes he may be trying to devour you whole.

You’re growing restless, however. As much as you love the slow make outs, right now, you need more.

So you’re fisting Vinny’s shirt and trying to push it up his body, but he stops you before you’re able to achieve your goal. He wordlessly sits up and pulls off his shirt and jacket. You reach out to touch him, but again, he’s stopping you before that can happen. Because his hands are dragging your own shirt off of you and his mouth is all over your stomach and chest.

His teeth sink into your flesh at random intervals. You know there are going to be countless hickeys and love bites from your navel all the way up to your neck, and you are totally fine with that.

Vinny works his way down your torso until he reaches the waistband of your pants. He looks up at you and grins when he sees how flustered and red you are. The sight of him smiling between your legs should not be that hot, but you love it too much to stop it.

As he’s working on getting your pants off, you slip out of your bra and toss it away blindly. The way he looks back up at you once your legs are free of your bottoms (and underwear) and your chest is bare has you biting back a moan.

“Sit up,” Vinny says. His voice is low and rough, and you do not hesitate to sit on the bed with your legs bent beneath you.

Vinny takes off the rest of his clothes at the foot of the bed. Your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth as you watch him undress, until he is completely naked. You think you taste blood, but it’s a little too late to check or care with Vinny crawling back towards you.

He grabs the back of your head and pushes you into him, your hands grabbing at the roots of his hair. He’s kissing you with much more aggression and hunger, and there’s nothing you can do from moaning against his lips. And the sound of Vinny also humming and moaning into your mouth has a persistent pulse throbbing in your cunt.

With his other hand, Vinny gently shoves your legs open. The unexpected cool air against your pussy has your grip in his hair tightening. Then his fingers are gliding through your wet folds and you keen against him at the sensation.

A high pitched moan escapes you when one of his fingers presses its way inside you. The feeling has you breaking the kiss and throwing your head back as Vinny slowly works you open.

“Doing so good, baby,” Vinny murmurs into your collarbone. His teeth scrape against your skin just as he’s shoving another digit inside of you.

Your walls seize around his fingers when he begins to pick up his pace. You cry out in pleasure and relish in the strained noises Vinny’s making against the column of your throat.

That white hot coil that has been plaguing you all day is finally going to meet its end. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you grind down into Vinny’s hand to make it come sooner. And he obliges, by pressing his thumb into your clit, adding just enough pressure and extra movement to have you coming undone.

You moan loudly at your much needed release, and Vinny continues to fuck his fingers in and out of you until you’re relaxing against him.

It didn’t take much for you to come, but Vinny doesn’t seem bothered. With hazy eyes you watch him take those same fingers that had just been inside you and lick them clean. You moan lightly at the sight.

Vinny doesn’t wait for you to recover before he’s pulling you into his lap. His hard cock is pressing against your folds, and that stupid heated knot is finding its way back to its original place deep down in your belly.

“Vin,” you whine at him. “Vin, please—“

But he’s reconnecting your mouths and you taste yourself on his tongue. It makes your head spin and you’re humming into him again.

And you’re so lost in the kiss that you don’t notice right away how Vinny is working his cock into you. With one arm around your waist and the other carefully guiding you down onto him. The feeling of finally being filled by him is nearly overwhelming.

When he’s bottomed out he pulls away from you by a few inches. His eyes are blown with desire and you think you can see your own reflected back at you.

Vinny begins moving and you tug harshly at his hair. He hisses at the sharp pain that splices through his scalp, but keeps thrusting up into you. You push back down against him, and you work out a steady rhythm that has the head of Vinny’s cock hitting that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

An entire galaxy flashes across your vision. There are now two arms around your torso, and the tightness of them is comforting as you continue rocking against Vinny.

In the space between you there are the sounds of shared panting and moaning and you swear you hear a muttered “Feel so good, mama.” Even if you had imagined it, it still makes you move your hips faster.

You can feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly. Your body is clenching around Vinny, his thrusts growing more uncoordinated. You’re both so close.

“Vin— Ah, ah—“ He’s biting your neck again. “Vinny baby, ‘m so—“

“I know. Come on, baby.” His breath is scorching hot on your neck and shoulder. “Ah— Come for me, baby.”

A moment later you’re coming with Vinny’s name on your lips, another brilliant series of stars and nebulas dotting your vision. His continued thrusts helps you through your high, especially when his arms tense around you as you feel him stiffen then he’s coming in you.

Everything feels amplified — every breath, every inch of skin being on fire, every bead of sweat that drips down your body.

All you feel is Vinny.

Vinny, Vinny, Vinny.

And god, the friction of skin on skin as he’s pulling out makes you dizzy.

Vinny lays you back on the bed and you blearily watch him enter the bathroom then return a few moments later. He hovers above you as he gently wipes your legs and pelvis clean with a damp washcloth, his touch comforting and light. He’s cautious in his work.

Your fingers are aching from how hard you had been clutching at the strands of hair on Vinny’s head, much like a vise. As he gets you both under the covers, he sees you flexing your hands lazily. He begins to massage at the joints of each individual finger and you let him.

You shift closer to him so your head is resting in the crook of his neck. He absentmindedly tangles your legs together as he keeps on with his task.

“I love you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“I love you, too,” Vinny says back. And you can hear the smile in his voice.

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[brittle-doughie]

Hello 4th time I've sent this sorry if I seem impatient. Hi brittle! How about, Chaotic Y/n interactions, but Y/n is Failboats chat (Y/n cookie is an empty vessel for your followers but as Failboats chat) part 1. P.s: You can replace Failboat and kirby with any cookie in the interactions and replace bandana waddle dee/chat with y/n(except no.2 cuz deez nuts joke)

1."Oh sweet brother in christ why can I not move my body I am concious, but this is a living nightmare I feel as if I hear 3,000 voices all at once."

2."Lets give them waddle deez nuts."

3."Bandana waddle dee says: Subscribe to Failboat."

4."Hey Kirby! did you know that my bandana is made of skin?"

5."This is gonna be a disaster."

6.Failboat:"Alright chat, destroy the body."

Chat:"Ratatatatatatata don't pee on the floor use the commodore."

7.Failboat:"HELP ME!"

Chat:"This beat down is sponsored by Raid shadow legends."

Failboat:"NO!!"

Chat:"One of the biggest mobile role-playing games of 2019, and it's totally free-"

Failboat:"Stop Shilling Bandana waddle dee!"

8."Reese's puffs reese's puffs, eat em up eat em up eat em up."

9.Chat:"Is it now a bad time to mention that I can't see?"

Failboat:"Your blind? I mean considering how far you are away from the combat I believe it."

10.Chat:"If you love me, kill me kirby, please."

Failboat:"I will kill you, only if you kill everyone else first."

This it for now, goodbye!

Gingerbrave: “Not if we have anything to say about it, Dark Enchantress Cookie.”

Y/N Cookie: “I will keep crawling out of hell to kill God. Or date her, I can’t decide.”

Gingerbrave: “W-what?”

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #oo5 | soles

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows soles (feet kink) || hyunjin x fem!reader summary: you and hyunjin are both married, beautiful and successful. tonight, you're both invited to a banquet, and you happen to wear his favorite shoes, which make your legs and feet look absolutely irresistible... warnings: feet kink and all that entails, if you don't like it, skip it. i've had a theory that hyunjin sucks toes since 2019, pussy drunk pisces hyunjin (a favorite of mine), established marriage, breeding kink if ya squint, non-idol AU.

word count: 1.5k masterlist - click here

If there’s one thing Hyunjin’s gonna do, it’s treat you like art.  Like a masterpiece.  He’s delicate with you, takes his time to appreciate your beauty, and gets you begging for him within seconds, and hes acutely aware of this fact; but as much as Hyunjin loves falling asleep inside of you after filling you, he’s got to say foreplay is one of his most favorite activities, and an art form all its own.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” He whispers affectionately, gently breaking away from your kiss, your lipstick smudging on his swollen lips. With a graceful gesture, he takes your hand and leads you towards the loveseat where you take a seat.

Hyunjin, now more composed, loosens his tie, allowing his tall, lithe frame to kneel before you. You watch him in awe, marveling at how such a breathtakingly handsome man could kneel before you with such devotion.

He cradles your right foot in his lap, his fingers tenderly undoing the buckle around your ankle with meticulous care. "Have you ever noticed how I can't keep my hands off you when you wear these?" Hyunjin inquires with a playful innocence, tilting the heel of your shoe just enough to free your foot from its constraining grip. You sigh in relief, sinking back into the plush chair.

A mischievous smirk dances on your lips as you press the balls of your foot against his chest, directly over the spot where his heart races beneath his composed exterior. "Why this particular pair?" you muse aloud, locking eyes with him as he cradles your arch in his gentle hand. Hyunjin carefully positions your ankle atop his shoulder while he attends to your other heel, showing the same meticulous care. His mesmerizing eyes trace the contours of your silken, shimmering, lotion-kissed legs. "There's something about the way they make your feet look, and these legs," he remarks softly. After deftly removing the second shoe, you lower your foot to rest on his upper thigh. His fingers trail up your shin, setting off a delightful tickling sensation that causes you to tense momentarily. However, Hyunjin refuses to allow the moment to pass, continuing his sensual journey up your thigh. He closes the distance between you two, capturing your lips in a playful, affectionate kiss. With your right leg still elevated on his shoulder, he presses his body against yours, gently stretching your flexible thighs in the most exquisite manner. Your head gently rests against the loveseat as Hyunjin's lips caress your neck, and sweet moans escape his lips that feel like the most enchanting melodies against your skin. The way he expresses his pleasure is nothing short of magical. With each tender kiss, you find yourself melting into the soft fabric of your seat, completely immersed in the sensations he evokes.

As he reluctantly pulls away, settling back on his heels, his fingers continue their gentle exploration of your right foot. His thumbs press into the arches, lifting your foot to his lips. Hyunjin's eyes remain closed as he presses soft kisses against the delicate pads of your toes. You watch him with darkened eyes, feeling the heat and desire building between your legs. “Hm,” he hums contentedly, finally opening his lids to gaze up your legs at you.   “When are you gonna let me put a baby in you?” With the tip of a red nail caught between your teeth, you playfully wiggle your toes within his grasp. "Soon, Hyunjin, very soon."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

But your promise is cut short as a gasp escapes your lips, your breath catching in your throat. He takes your toes between his pretty lips, his warm, wet tongue caressing each digit, sliding between them with a sensuous finesse. Hyunjin's fascination with your feet is nothing new, but he always manages to find innovative ways to shower affection upon your soles, unlike anyone else has in the past. He's wholly immersed in this kind of foreplay, and if given the chance, he could lose himself in it for hours. Your black-painted toes shimmer in the soft, warm lighting, glistening with his saliva after he's finished his ministrations. His tongue continues its journey, tracing a slow, deliberate path down the center of your sole. It's not a tickling sensation; it's an electrifying stimulation that threatens to send you over the edge right then and there. Your fingers curl into fists at your sides, and you take your other foot to caress the growing bulge in his pants. Hyunjin is devoured by desire for you, his world narrowing down to the intoxicating connection you share.  Making love to you is a transcendental experience for him, one that elevates his senses and takes him to another realm. It's a heady, soul-enveloping sensation unlike anything he's ever experienced before, akin to a euphoric high.

His tongue languorously traces a tantalizing path down to your ankle, where he plants tender kisses and playfully nibbles.  Slowly, Hyunjin ascends your leg, savoring the taste of your skin with each passing moment, until he disappears beneath the cascading fabric of your dress.  As he resurfaces, the glow of the nearby lamp dances in his eyes, illuminating his determination.  His gaze meets yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.  His finger, with a deliberate yet sensuous grace, hooks into your panties, teasing them down your leg.  He stops just short of removing them entirely, just enough to get to what he really wants right now. Hyunjin props your calf on his shoulder, your underwear dangling from your ankle as he intimately kisses your warmth. His tongue teases up and down the slick folds, setting your nerves ablaze and sending waves of heat coursing beneath your skin. Your back arches involuntarily when you feel the tip of his tongue delving inside you, drawing out more of you in ways that paint his nose, cheeks and chin slick and shiny. Hyunjin’s eyes are closed in blissful contentment, nose buried in your cunt, making you cry out, your fingers tangling in his thick hair as you tug, its too much, you don’t want to get there just yet and Hyunjin excels at pushing you over the precipice with breathtaking speed. A touch reluctantly, he leans in for another chaste kiss against your tender folds and delivers one final, lingering lick that sends your body into a jolt of ecstasy. It's tough for him to let go of saturating his tongue with you, even for just a moment. Hyunjin sits back, pink lips glistening with your essence.

"Hmm, Hyunjin," you moan, your voice a sultry whisper as he continues to lavish attention on your other shin, too captivated by your body to fully register your words. "Hyunjin, hey," you manage to summon more effort.

"Hm?" he responds, his hand gently straightening your leg, his tongue tracing another wet path down your inner thigh to your ankle.

"You know, once you make me cum, that's it," you remind him as he effortlessly removes your panties from your ankle, discarding them carelessly.

"I know, baby."

You can't help but smirk at how utterly consumed Hyunjin is by you at this moment.

"Hyunjin?"

"Yes, baby?" He nibbles at the side of the arch of your foot.

"Will you buy me a house in Miami tomorrow?"

"Of course, baby, of course I will..." His words tumble out, completely oblivious to the commitment he's just made, as you continue to tease him by using your other foot to caress his clothed erection. He spreads his knees further apart, grinding against you, while he reluctantly releases your toes from his lips. They are connected only briefly by a thread of drool before he rises up on his knees, hoisting both of your legs around his waist. You assist him in undoing his pants enough to allow him to sink himself deeply inside you, and the sheer size of Hyunjin hovers on the precipice between ecstasy and pain. As he melds with you, the sensation threatens to split you in two, and you have to crane your neck to catch your breath because you're being filled to the hilt. Hyunjin pulls you forward as if sensing your need for a better angle. You grip him tightly as he passionately makes love to you, marveling at how he manages to make you feel like the axis keeping him sane in a world spinning faster than the two of you can imagine. Your ruby nails leave vivid, red marks on his ribs as he loses himself in the rhythm, drawing nearer to the brink of release.

"Hey, baby, hey—" he breathes urgently, his gaze locking onto yours as he slows down, withdrawing in long, deliberate strokes. His thumb presses onto your clit, tracing in slow circles. "Are you still on birth control?" You understand his question, but why is he asking that right now? Your whimpers and panting leave your jaw slack as his touch intensifies.

"Baby, you're going to make me cum. I need to—please, answer me," he pleads, desperation evident in his voice. However, you're caught in the throes of passion, your mind overwhelmed by a swirling whirlwind of sensations as your body tenses, and everything seems to fade. Your eyes briefly roll back into your skull. It takes a moment to regain your composure, and you huff as you bring your chin down, gazing up at him.

But it's too late.

Hyunjin has just reached his climax, his breathing heavy, and you glance down to see that he's still deep inside you.

You sigh, too enraptured to even care, as you finally respond to his earlier question.

"I didn't have a chance to pick up my 'script this morning." - fin

[artemis-73]

Terror as Sharp as Pain

Artist: @alicetallula

Author: @artemis-73 / Artemis73 on AO3

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 10.8k

Tags/Warnings: IT Crossover, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Fix-it adjacent, Post-IT: Chapter Two (2019), Case Fic, Body Horror

Summary: After Jack brings Cas back from the Empty, everything almost returns to normal. Cas moves into The Bunker, they go back to hunting, and they do not talk about his confession. With the number of hunts dwindling, Team Free Will takes up a case in Derry, Maine, a town terrorized every 27 years by disappearances and violent deaths. Even though the cycle isn't due to repeat for another 19 years, they will have to face fear itself to free the town.

Preview:

Near the train yard across town, the Well House stands on Neibolt St. There are no street lamps or warm porch lights marking the way. The Impala's engine cuts through the quiet night, making the silence even deeper when Dean turns the car off.

"We're definitely closer," Cas says from the backseat, worry creasing his brow. It's a look Dean hasn't seen in a long time. He hates it. "My powers aren't... They don't like this place."

From the other side of the backseat, Mike shifts anxiously. "What powers?"

"Cas has some special abilities," Sam starts to explain, spinning out a vague explanation that doesn't come within 100 yards of the truth.

Hey, Cas, Dean tries praying. You gotta get better about mentioning your powers in front of civvies.

Cas just rolls his eyes.

One more thing, he continues, don't get dead.

"It's not my death I'm worried about," Cas snips.

Mike casts a horrified look between them, and Sam heaves a put-upon sigh.

"Dude, not helping," he groans.

"All you gotta know," Dean says, "is if everything else fails, Cas is our get out of jail free card. He's saved me more times than I can count."

They gather their sparse supplies and trek up the overgrown path to the derelict porch with Mike and Sam leading the way. Dean's seen a lot of haunted and abandoned houses in his day; they've hunted and squatted in their fair share. None of them have ever felt like this. If he was more superstitious or maybe less jaded, he'd say the house was evil. Evil leaks from its rotting roof and trails tendrils of decay down the walls. It pools on the floorboards and seeps into his boots. His skin tingles with gooseflesh, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

When he looks over, Cas is already watching him. They don't look away when Mike pushes the front door open or when Sam follows him inside.

"I don't want you going in there," Cas says.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing."

Time is ticking. He can't leave Sam alone, but he doesn't want to go in just yet. He reaches over and, since there's no tie to straighten, fusses with the collar of the trench coat. Cas is wearing a blue tee shirt that nearly matches his eyes. It's one of Dean's favorites, though he's never said it.

He pulls his hand away, but quicker than he can blink, Cas seizes his wrist. His fingers are surprisingly soft; angel healing powers mean there's not a hint of a callus. His thumb slides along the thin skin of Dean's wrist, and even in the dark, Dean knows he's tracing one of his veins. Cas rebuilt him, after all, and knows him down to his very marrow.

"Please, be careful," Cas says to their hands. "Promise me."

The damndest thing is that Dean says, "I promise" before he can even think.

"Guys?" Sam calls from inside.

Right. They have a job to do.

Coming to @deancashorrorfest this October!

[thegaynessarchives]

List of entity-coded movies, organized by entity

(These are mostly movies I just found from Google, feel free to tell me if there are any I should add to the list!)

This will be a long post most likely, so the list is under the cut.

The Buried

Buried (2010)

The Descent (2005)

Meander (2020)

The Corruption

They Nest (2000)

The Fly (1986)

The Dark

Lights Out (2016)

The Desolation

...

The End

Ghost (1990)

Final Destination 1-5

The Frighteners (1996)

The Sixth Sense (1999)

A Ghost Story (2017)

The Eye

Caché (2005)

This House Has People In It (not a movie, but I had to mention it)

The Extinction

The Matrix (1999)

Pretty much any apocalypse film

The Flesh

The Human Centipede (2009)

Raw (2016)

Under the Skin (2013)

Jennifer's Body (2009)

The Hunt

The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

Ready or Not (2019)

The Hunger Games

The Lonely

The Martian (2015)

Cast Away (2000)

The Slaughter

Pretty much any war movie

The Spiral

Uzumaki (2000)

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

Skinamarink (2022)

Jacob's Ladder (1990)

Beau Is Afraid (2023)

The Stranger

House of Wax (2005)

The Strangers (2008) (plot might lean more Slaughter though)

Tourist Trap (1979)

Us (2019)

The Vast

Fall (2022)

Vertigo (1958)

Don't Look Down (1998)

The Web

The Truman Show (1998) (could also be considered Spiral-adjacent, or even Eye-adjacent. However, I think it fits best here, due to the element of everything being planned out behind the scenes.)

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

[thedrunkenreadersreviews]

A thought on why Alastor HATES Lucifer

*Takes a hard shot of Tequila*

So, it's been a minute. And on the eve of Hazbin Hotel's release date all those years ago in 2019 I felt an obligation to finally post my thought on this. I'm certain the title says it all. I'm certain part of this may be incorrect but I had a lot of time to think (and conduct research that was fun but also a headache) and have concluded my running thesis based on the information made available as to why exactly Alastor HATES Lucifer.

So ... *takes another shot* let us begin.

As Genesis says ...

In the Beginning:

Lucifer: Lucifer's beginning, based on the information given to us in the show, consists of him straying away from the rigid structure of the other angels in Heaven, being "a dreamer." In this universe, the concept of "God" is not explored and, based on what I'm hearing, perhaps never will be. Which, I'm fine with. I think the angels serving as the runners of Heaven works well, especially with the story Viv is trying to tell. Anyway, Lucifer ends up falling in love and marrying Lilith, who, much like him, refuses to bend to the will of the angels which, in this case, kept evil out of the universe. Those two get together, and offer up the apple of knowledge to Eve, which unleashes Sin or the Root of all Evil, or---now, let's be honest here---Roo (but more on her later). Because of this action, Roo flourishes, corrupting the entire existence of earth. Being forced to have this shoved into his face as punishment, Lucifer is cast into Hell and falls into a deep depression even before his separation from Lilith. He is more than just a neglectful parent; he is a neglectful ruler as well. Hell is a free-for-all; overlords, turf wars, exterminations that Lucifer signed off on, etc. Now, I love Viv's imagining of Lucifer as a character, and I think this allows a lot of potential for him especially given all of these flaws. So, there's that.

Now, let's look at Alastor's beginning.

*Takes a shot and steadying breath*

Alastor is a bit more complicated because we don't have the full story yet but we do have bits and pieces so let's try to put some of these together to analyze his psyche.

Now, throughout "Hell's Greatest Dad," yes, one hundred percent he is doing that to get under Lucifer's skin and yes, he doesn't like the fact that he is no longer the most powerful/influential person in the room and this is kind of his low blows at that.

But then ... where does he get the bravado to do that? Why would he be so confident that Lucifer would do essentially nothing? Yes, Charlie is there, but we're talking about the King of Hell. Viv mentioned that the hierarchy is kind of there in name alone ... but how did it get to that point?

Lucifer's neglect of the realm itself.

Now, examine Alastor, who is obsessed with control. He is smiling all the time to maintain a sense of control. He is frustrated when Lucifer is present because it hinders the control he has on the patrons of the hotel. He is enraged when Husk calls into question Alastor's control by mentioning his leash, as well as a few other examples scattered about. Right away, you have a demon who yearns for control and a demon who really couldn't care less about it with the former being lower on the Hellish hierarchy than the latter.

*Takes another shot because I know I'm starting to look like Charlie from It's Always Sunny with his mailroom red yearn map and deranged expression*

This is where we start getting into speculation using what information we have on his backstory to get a clue of Alastor's character.

When he was alive, Alastor was a serial killer but Viv said he was more of a "Dexter" type serial killer. If you haven't watched or read the Dexter series, Dexter is indeed a serial killer but he only kills those that have killed others. Think of a Batman that won't send these criminals to Arkham but to the morgue. I believe even Dexter thought of himself as "taking out the trash." So Alastor was only killing people he believed deserved to be killed; the worst of the worst. Looking at the comic, which is still cannon, Alastor has a soft spot for "those of fairer means" and is protective of people who may not be able to protect themselves.

*Takes another shot*

This might just add a little sprinkle into Alastor's mindset of "protection" but I'll mention it anyway. Stay with me! *Stands unsteadily like a drunk dad explaining the rules of a football game or something* Alastor grew up in 1920s/30s Louisiana. Now if my history classes have taught me anything about 1920/30s Louisiana is that it SUCKED for people of color, especially for black Americans. Alastor (What? Yes, I know the cannon changed, but we can still work with this.) is of mixed race, however, he could have been white passing as Viv also said that Alastor was living his best life as a radio broadcaster and well just look at the art for human Alastor. He is also quoted as being a Mama's boy and I'm leaning on assuming it was his mother's side that contained his black ethnicity.

My speculation---again, my speculation---is that his father was abusive; perhaps towards both him and his mother. I am also speculating that growing up in the 1920s/30s American South, he saw the police brutality, he saw the injustice, he saw people in power fail to protect the ones that they were supposed to, leading him to "take out the trash."

*Takes another shot, grips the table*

And now ... he's in Hell, in which the person with the MOST power, who could have all the control, is failing to maintain order and protect those that need his protection spectacularly.

*Takes another shot, climbs onto the table*

On TOP of that! Alastor could blame Lucifer for everything he saw/endured when he was alive because it was Lucifer's actions that allowed Roo to exist and for evil to corrupt the world.

So not only does Lucifer not get Hell under control, leading Alastor to clean up the mess that is Hell, but he is also the reason that evil exists (as far as we know) and he chooses to do absolutely nothing!

*Plops into chair, takes shot, slams glass onto table, points unsteady finger at you, blinks like a frog*

And that (hiccup) dear reader, is why I think Alastor hates Lucifer: because he is the reason for all the evil that Alastor had to put up with and has all the power to distribute justice but chooses not to do it; a repeat of Alastor's life when he was alive.

*Smiles stupidly*

They are such perfect foils for each other and if Viv said "they will have enemies to lovers" type arch and even those involved in the production teasing 'a match made in Hell' I think this is strictly platonic and that they are hinting that these two are going to end up having the most fantastic, most interesting, most heartwrenching, most fucking awesome enemies to ride-or-die homies relationship in existence. At least (hiccup) I hope so!

Cheers.

*Passes out*