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exa-reblogs · 8 months

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Some identifiers for AI generated fashion images that I've noticed

So, recently and not unexpectedly, I've seen a major uptick in AI generated images showing up in my searches for fashion photos, specifically. I've seen people make posts like this for specific art styles, and for 2D art in general, but I wanted to share some observations I made regarding clothing, fashion, and runways. I've seen a lot of people getting fooled by these, but it seems like for every one person thinking it's real there's about three people informing them that it's AI, fortunately. I'll admit, a lot of them look somewhat believable at first, but once you look closer it becomes apparent that they're off somehow.

To clarify: this is about common inconsistencies I've personally noticed in AI fashion images, so that you can learn where to look for these and similar inconsistencies and avoid sharing AI content by accident.

There's this one "collection" specifically that seems to come up a lot (also, click on all these images in this post to see the details more clearly):

There's more images like this and yes, despite the "houseofai" watermark I still see people asking who the designer is, or saying that they genuinely thought it was real at first. First and foremost: these are all clearly meant to be from the same runway show, right? Then why does each image look like it was taken on a different runway? The lighting and coloring are different in each one, and the middle one has vague red stairs in the background while the other two look like just a plain light-colored runway. This is something you'll obviously only be able to notice in groups of images and not singular ones, but it's a pretty dead giveaway if you see it.

Secondly: AI generated images, as a whole, tend to have this specific kind of super dramatic lighting with very bright, white lights and soft grey shadows. I'm not very knowledgeable about photography, so I can't explain it exactly, but I know it when I see it (and if someone reading this can properly explain it , please do.)

Thirdly: AI generated fashion tends to attempt perfect symmetry, but always fails somehow.

As for the actual outfits: the best that I can describe it is that a lot of the shapes and patterns just don't look like intentional human choices.

What in the hell is that monogram on the upper right supposed to be? It's clearly mimicking a logo of some kind, but it's messy and indecipherable, not actual branding.

The heart motif is clearly the running theme here, but the hearts don't really make sense. Like the main one in two halves across the chest here: why does it have those two notches missing at the bottom that prevent it from coming to a point at the bottom like a heart is supposed to?

The bottom hem is way longer on the left than on the right.

The little shoulder hearts are like, bleeding into the shoulder seams; those lines in the hair look like they're supposed to be headbands, but they disappear at the part with the rest of the hair; the embroidery on the pants isn't in a clear or intentional pattern.

Again, compare the lighting on this one's neck with the lighting on the last one's neck, totally different.

Those pink things on the chest look like they're trying to be hearts, but they're so clearly not actually hearts. If your collection is heart themed, why aren't you using actual hearts?

The quilting effect is uneven and the individual lines don't follow through and finish in the places they should. Look at the upper right sleeve, where the diamonds are misshapen and the diagonal lines are clearly disconnected. On the lower right chest, the lines just disappear. This can't actually with quilted garments IRL because the top layer is literally stitched to the bottom one along those lines with material in between. It can't fuck up like that, especially not a designer garment that costs your monthly rent.

Smooth zipper. Zippers seem to be a common fuck up.

You can't read the text on the hearts. It's nonsense. Nonsense, unreadable text and fucked up hands are the absolutely surefire ways to identify AI art like this. Conveniently, there are no hands in these photos.

What are those embossed shapes on the sleeves? They're not identifiable as anything in particular.

That is not how zippers work.

I suppose that weird folding beneath the hearts is something technically physically possible. But it's much, much more likely that they would create smoother, less ugly seams with less excess fabric.

These generative AI programs don't actually comprehend what they're trying to depict. Thus, they make mistakes like these. Physical inconsistencies that are often totally impossible, but even the possible things are just... stupid choices that an actual designer isn't going to do. Yeah, sure, designs can be weird, asymmetrical, and imperfect on purpose. But it's way, way more likely that this is just an AI.

Experiment: look at these two images of retro-futuristic headpieces/eyewear and determine whether they're real or AI.

Right one is easy, mostly because of the wonky bitch in the back. But some other inconsistencies I specifically wanna note: if the blue goggles color the "model"'s skin, hair, helmet, and the background behind the lenses blue, why doesn't it do the same for the eyes? And also, I've noticed that a lot of these images have trouble properly rendering the corners of the mouth, which is a weird detail but one you won't be able to unsee once you know to look out for it. Yes, there's a dark line where actual human lips meet, often with some subtle divots at the corners, but in the image on the right, it's rendered as a harsh, gaping hole more like something sculpted out of plastic than actual flesh. On the note of imperfect symmetry again: the left lens isn't perfectly round. And finally, this is a really good example of that giveaway lighting I mentioned. I don't know how you would actually achieve that lighting IRL, but it's so, so common in AI images.

The left photo is an actual model in 1967 wearing pieces designed by Pierre Cardin, a designer that the right image is definitely trying to emulate. The model has a look on her face that isn't super duper expressive, but it's still far beyond any of the AI images I've seen. Every AI fashion image I've seen thus far has totally blank-faced, expressionless "models". They might pout slightly, but I haven't seen any with visible teeth. Something tells me the AI would render teeth the same way it renders fingers. The emblem on the hat is actually perfectly symmetrical, and the glasses are clearly asymmetrical as an intentional design choice, not like the shapes are supposed to be the same but got messed up somehow. And she has ten fingers total, five on each hand.

Two more:

These are both AI generated. I'm not gonna lie, i fell for the one on the left at first. The right is easy:

distorted faces

woman in back is being absorbed by the train(?) seat

those middle buttons on the jacket are totally useless

AI Lighting (TM)

But the "models" on the left look very, very convincing, and the lighting doesn't immediately register to me as AI lighting. The only really wonky thing on the faces is the mouth on the left "model". However, there's one dead giveaway: the headphone wires. Why are they different thicknesses? Why does the rightmost wire disappear into the jacket sleeve? Where the fuck does the leftmost wire even go? AI, I've noticed, struggles with thin lines, strings, and strands of things. Like with the quilted jacket above, you can often try and trace a single line, only to find that it drops off, distorts, or disappears. And sure enough, as soon as I noticed something was weird with those wires, I went to the Pinterest profile that posted it and found that they exclusively posted AI content. Speaking of the actual headphones, the leftmost ear cushion is sitting on an angle that doesn't make sense, and the one to the direct right of it is significantly thinner than the other three. Again, subtle failed symmetry.

This is by no means a comprehensive guide, and I encourage anyone seeing this to point out ways they've found to identify AI images like this. These are things I've just been on the lookout for lately. And when in doubt: conduct reverse image searches and try your best to identify solid sources for your images. AI images won't list designers, model names, photographers, stylists, makeup artists, etc., while actual runway and photoshoot images will, because there are human creatives behind them.

#posting this to my least active blog rather than my fashion one so that less notes will overwhelm that blog's notifications #ai #psa #long post

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marinlupin · 1 month

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give me your favorite marauders head cannons i need it heres mine

regulus’s hair was a lot like narcissa’s when he was younger when he was a boy he had blonde streaks in his hair, but when he was about 11 his hair went all black.

regulus has a grey eye and a blue eye

he’s autistic, but hides it

trans regulus has been roaming my mind and i love it.

james is latino and a really good cook curtsey of mama effie

when he’s angry he yells in spanish and only when he calms down you can understand him

james carries tampons/pads for regulus so he can just grab the bag and regulus can get it without asking.

james has adhd and anxiety, but with those it’s more physical actions like fiddling with a pen or wand and talking fast.

i love the head cannon of deaf remus tbh it’s really interesting to think about.

he is diagnosed as disabled so he has to use a cain everywhere because back problems and he gives out every once in awhile making him fall.

remus get’s grey hair early, but it’s not full out it’s like streaks.

remus has bpd and sirius and his friends make sure he takes his meds and knows his body language to help because he gets into fights easily.

sirius plays the drums to get his emotions stabilized and he always has his drum sticks on him to fiddle around.

to go with the deaf remus to get to know him more he learned sign language and always speaks up for him because remus is mute most of the time.

whether i get hate for this one idc i see him as genderfluid, but it’s more of subtle looks and like his actual face that makes him look it because it gives off a little confusion because his face is just both feminine and masculine and how he presents himself too.

demisexual sirius. yes you can thank crimson rivers for that one.

peter likes photography and likes to capture the world and the people he loves on film

his love language is definitely quality time to me and like he just silently does things for people

i feel like him and regulus could get along well as well

let me know if you want my headcannons for the girls! or just more in general

#marauders #ao3 author #jegulus #wolfstar #james potter #regulus black #remus lupin #marauders era #marauders fandom #dead gay witches #dead gay wizards #peter pettigrew #headcanon

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queenshelby · 2 months

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The Basement (Part One)

Pairing: Dark Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Dub-Con, CNC, Smut

It was a Thursday evening when you found yourself standing amidst the artfully crafted chaos of your new exhibition opening in Dublin. The scent of expensive cologne and the hum of excited chatter filled the air, accompanied by the occasional clink of glasses raised in celebration.

You had been working there for a year now and your heart raced, palpitating with the anticipation of meeting your favorite actor tonight who was said to appear at the event according to one of your acquaintances and fellow artists.

As you surveyed the crowd, you couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of finally meeting him. It was a dream come true and you wanted to shake his hand, look into those icy blue eyes, and express how much his work meant to you ever since you began watching him in Peaky Blinders.

But the crowd seemed to grow thicker, and you began to lose hope of getting close enough for a proper introduction.

That's when you saw him standing across the room, wearing a black suit. His slightly greying hair framed his face like a soft halo and those striking eyes were unmistakable, even from meters away. And then there was his smile, slightly crooked, as if to suggest a naughty secret just waiting to be told.

The moment your eyes met, he locked onto you, his gaze penetrating straight through to your soul.

He had obviously noticed you starring at him like some obsessive little girl, unable to take your eyes off his enticing form.

It was a strange feeling, being seen by him like that; it felt like he could see right through you, past every layer of facade you hid behind.

Taking up the courage to introduce yourself to him, you carefully made your way over to where he stood.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you offered hesitantly, holding out your hand in greeting. "I work here and I am a huge fan of your work," you quickly added, hoping to sound professional enough for the occasion but failing miserably in doing so.

Cillian took your hand gently, his touch sending goosebumps racing up your arm. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he said warmly, his voice deep and soothing. "I've heard great things about this place. It's truly inspiring work," he complimented, gesturing towards the stunning art pieces surrounding you both.

You blushed at the praise, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Are you one of the collaborators?" he then asked and you nodded awkwardly. "Yes, I do the photography," you answered shyly, pointing to a series of surreal landscapes adorning the walls nearby. Cillian's eyes widened with genuine interest upon seeing your work hung proudly beside the paintings of renowned artists.

A gentle smile crept across his lips as he studied each image intently before offering a genuine compliment. "Beautiful," he murmured softly, looking up at you with admiration in his eyes. "I can only imagine what inspired you to create such ethereal visuals."

Your cheeks turned a rosy pink, your nervousness intensifying under his praise. "Thank you," you stammered, struggling to muster the confidence to continue speaking so you took a big sip of your wine instead.

Cillian smiled down at you encouragingly, watching you as you nervously toyed with the hem of your dress. "How long have you been working here?" he asked conversationally, moving closer to you.

"About a year now," you replied, taking another swig of your drink. The alcohol gave you a bit more courage to speak freely while he reached for another glass of wine from the waiter walking by and handing it to you.

"And do you enjoy it?" he then questioned, turning back to you with curious gleam in his eye.

"Working here? Well, sometimes it feels a bit overwhelming, but yes, I do," you admitted truthfully, shrugging sheepishly.

"It looks like a lot of hard work goes into it," he acknowledged, nodding appreciatively.

"It does but it is fun too. I get to meet a lot of interesting people, like you," you responded, smiling nervously.

Cillian chuckled quietly, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Well, I don't think I am that interesting, but thank you," he said as he leaned in closer, his hushed voice.

"Well, I think you are and you are, uhm... well I really liked you in Peaky Blinders," you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Tommy has this kind of darkness about him and it is very attractive I think," you laughed self-consciously, suddenly realizing how much you had to drink.

Cillian's eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned knowingly. "Oh, so Thomas Shelby is attractive to you, huh?" he teased, his voice dropping low and seductive. "Well, I guess I should be flattered then, shouldn't I?"

"I didn't mean it that way!" you gasped, shaking your head suddenly.

"No?" he drawled, his tone dripping with teasing malice. "What exactly did you mean, then?" Cillian wanted to know.

Your cheeks reddened further as you glanced around, trying to hide your mortification. "I just meant that you portray Tommy so well that I find myself drawn to him," you muttered under your breath.

"Interesting," Cillian mused, studying you carefully. "So, does that mean that you feel drawn to me too?" Cillian teased playfully, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, not at all!" you sputtered, laughing nervously.

"No?" he asked mischievously. "That's a shame," he teased, winking slyly. "Because I wouldn't have minded having someone like join me at my hotel room later tonight," he suggested nonchalantly, leaning in closer until his lips brushed against your ear.

You gasped, stunned by his bold proposition. "What?" you spluttered, jerking back from him in shock. "Are you serious?"

Cillian smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Yes, although you would have to agree to sign an NDA before I take you there," he added, winking slyly.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, processing his offer. It was like a dream come true and even though you had never slept with anyone before, you agreed to his proposal.

The idea of spending the night with Cillian Murphy was irresistible, intoxicating even. You knew the risks involved, but at that moment, nothing mattered more than fulfilling the fantasy you had nurtured inside you all these years.

"Alright," you managed to whisper, swallowing hard as you watched Cillian finish up his drink.

"Good then lets get out of here," he whispered back, flashing you a wicked grin and, soon after that, you stepped outside, the cold night air hit you, instantly sobering you up. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were going to a hotel room with Cillian Murphy. But as the reality sunk in, you started to feel anxious about losing your virginity to someone you didn't even know.

When you arrived at the hotel room half an hour later, Cillian made you sign the NDA and, soon after you did, you found yourself pressed against the door, his hot breath fanning your neck and his hands already starting to explore your body.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he murmured reassuringly, kissing your neck tenderly as he sensed your nervousness.

"You want this, don't you?" he whispered, sliding his hands beneath your shirt, caressing your skin. "Just say the word, and we can stop," he reassured you but you simply moaned softly, arching your back as his fingers touched the sensitive spot between your shoulder blades.

Despite the lingering doubts in your mind, you couldn't deny the intense desire coursing through your veins. You wanted him, needed him.

"I don't want to stop," you whimpered, clutching at the fabric covering his chest.

Cillian smirked down at you, his eyes dark and glittering with lust.

"Good girl," he cooed, running his thumb along your jawline. "Now, tell me Y/N, will you let me do whatever I want with you tonight?"

You swallowed thickly, your pulse thrumming wildly in your throat. "Whatever you want, Cillian," you breathed, clinging tighter to his shoulders.

"Really?" he murmured, trailing kisses along your jawline.

You shivered, feeling a thrill of excitement course through you. "Yeah, whatever you want," you assured him, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair.

"Good," Cillian groaned as, with a devious grin, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and hungry for more.

"Now I want you to undress for me," he commanded, his voice soft yet commanding. His eyes held a playful glint that belied the power they exuded.

Slowly, you slipped off your heels first, letting them fall silently to the floor. With every step you took back, you became spellbound by his gaze, entranced by the magnetism oozing from his presence.

Your heart pounded in your chest, as you untied the knot holding your dress together, allowing it to slip gracefully from your shoulders.

The thin fabric pooled around your feet, leaving you standing naked before Cillian. Your bare skin prickled with anticipation, knowing that he had complete control over you.

"Your panties too," Cillian purred, the edge of his mouth curling into a devilish smirk.

Eyes fixed on his mesmerizing gaze, you hesitated for a brief second before pulling away your panties. The feeling of utter vulnerability washed over you like a tidal wave, yet something within you embraced the sensation.

"Perfect," Cillian murmured approvingly, his eyes raking over your nude form hungrily. "Now, stand still for me."

You obeyed, standing stiffly as he circled around you like a predator assessing its prey.

Cillian traced his index finger along your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, his eyes traveling downwards to admire your curvy hips tapering into your waist. "So fucking gorgeous."

His words ignited a fire within you, and with each passing second, your nerves began to calm down. This was it. The culmination of everything you ever fantasized about.

Cillian stepped back to take off his shirt, revealing a lean torso.

The sight made your mouth go dry, and you almost forgot to breathe.

He moved closer, running his hand up along your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

"Drop to your knees Y/N," he ordered, his voice low and gravelly. You hesitated for a moment, but his insistent gaze compelled you to follow his command.

Once on your knees, you looked up at him, his eyes burning with desire, his erection straining against his pants. You reached out, unbuttoning his jeans.

He groaned softly as you slipped the zipper down, freeing his cock from its confines. You gasped at the sight before you - thick, veiny, and throbbing with need.

"Look at me," Cillian demanded, placing his hands on your shoulders roughly. Your eyes lifted towards him, meeting his fiery gaze. "Tell me how much you want this."

"I want this. I want this a lot," you managed to utter, biting your lip nervously.

"Good girl," Cillian praised, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "Now, show me. Take my cock in to your mouth," he demanded and you hesitated for a moment, staring at the swollen tip of his cock. The urge to wrap your lips around it was overwhelming, but you also felt uneasy about the unknown territory you were treading.

Still, the prospect of pleasing Cillian thrilled you, and you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock.

Cillian groaned loudly, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice hoarse with raw lust. "Take your time, taste me."

His request spurred you on, and you opened your mouth wider, taking the head of his cock between your lips.

You sucked lightly, savoring the taste of him, your heart pounding in rhythm with the intensity of the moment.

"Suck me harder," Cillian growled, his hands grasping your hair tightly as he thrust deeper into your mouth.

You complied, applying more force, reveling in the sensation of his cock pulsing against your tongue. You felt empowered, desired, and utterly submissive. The combination was intoxicating.

Cillian continued to guide you, coaching you through every stroke, praising your efforts with guttural moans and sighs of pleasure.

"That's it, Y/N," he coaxed, threading his fingers through your hair. "Fuck, you're good with your mouth."

You struggled to catch your breath, your lungs heaving in the silence of the dimly lit room. Each word, each gesture, served to fuel the growing tension between you two.

You tasted Cillian's precum, tangy and salty, arousing you further.

Your inhibitions vanished, replaced by a raw hunger for his approval.

"You're doing great," Cillian murmured, his grip tightening on your hair. "I want you to take me deeper, okay?"

You eagerly bobbed your head, engulfing his length greedily. The heat building between you threatened to combust.

"God, you're amazing," Cillian groaned, bucking his hips.

"Open wide for me now, sweetheart," he instructed, gripping your hair tightly in his fist.

You followed his order, parting your lips and sucking harder.

As you deepthroated him, Cillian's hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against your lips.

The smell of sweat combined with the faint smell of alcohol, created a unique scent that aroused you further.

"Ah, fuck," Cillian cried out, his hand tightening on your scalp.

"Keep going," he encouraged, his voice strained with effort.

You obliged, loving the taste of him.

Cillian's cock grew thicker in your mouth, his hardness becoming even more pronounced. You could sense his pleasure and it drove you wild.

"I will cum down your throat now and I want you to be a good girl and swallow it all," Cillian declared.

His voice had a stern authority that sent shivers down your spine.

Nervous excitement surged through you as you prepared for the inevitable.

"Okay," you managed to whisper, your heart drumming in your chest.

Cillian placed his hands on your cheekbones, his thumbs stroking your temples soothingly.

"Relax," he urged, his voice softer now. "Let it happen."

You took a deep breath, clenching your fists tight, readying yourself for the sensation.

Cillian's breathing became labored, and you could tell he was on the brink of release.

"Here it comes," he warned, his voice strained. "Swallow every drop baby."

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest.

With a final warning glance, Cillian exploded, filling your mouth with his seed. You gagged reflexively, but you remembered his warning. Swallowing hard, you forced the semen down your throat, tasting the bitterness of his essence.

Cillian sighed heavily, releasing your hair and caressing your head tenderly.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "You handled that beautifully."

You sat back on your heels, panting heavily, your senses reeling from the intense encounter. "Thanks," you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I tried my best."

Cillian smiled down at you, his eyes sparkling with pride. "You exceeded my expectations," he praised, cupping your chin before pulling you up to stand on your feet again. "Now it is time to see how tight you are," he announced, his voice husky with anticipation. "So why don't you climb on to the bed for me. I want to fuck you from behind so that I can watch my cock slide in and out of your pussy," Cillian murmured huskily, his gaze burning with lust.

You hesitated briefly, unsure of what to do. You'd never done anything like this before and the fear of not being able to match Cillian's expectations loomed large. However, the thought of experiencing something you'd only dreamed about pushed you forward.

"Okay," you responded, climbing onto the king-sized bed. The mattress sank beneath your weight, enveloping you in a cloud of softness.

You turned around, facing the mirrored wall opposite the bed, watching yourself in the reflection. The bedside lamp cast a soft glow on your skin, illuminating the flush of arousal creeping up your cheeks.

Cillian climbed onto the bed behind you, his movements confident and assertive. You watched him pull a condom from the bedside table drawer, expertly rolling it onto his erect cock before discarding the wrapper on the floor.

He then reached forward, assessing your wetness with a fingertip. You arched your back in response while Cillian gripped your hips firmly.

"I want you to stay like this," he instructed, positioning your legs apart. "Ready for me?" he asked as the anticipation built within you, your heart pounding with trepidation and excitement.

"Yes," you managed to squeak, biting your lip as you waited for him to enter you.

You could feel his heated breath on your neck, and the anticipation of his entry filled you with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Cillian positioned himself behind you, aligning his cock with your entrance. You braced yourself, anticipating the invasion of his massive member.

"I am going to stretch you open now, Y/N," Cillian murmured in your ear, his words vibrating against your skin as you felt his hands grip your hips firmly, anchoring you in place.

Then, with a single swift motion, he thrust deeply into you, stretching you open, causing tears to spring to your eyes from the sudden intrusion. You suppressed a scream while pushing your face against the pillow while Cillian pumped into you.

"You're so tight," he groaned, thrusting faster, deeper, relentlessly driving into you, his cock burrowing into your core, filling you completely.

It was painful but knowing who he was and that you were pleasing him somehow numbed the discomfort.

"Does it hurt?" he murmured, sounding genuinely concerned, his voice cracking slightly.

"No," you lied unconvincingly, your voice quivering. "Not really."

"Good," he grunted, continuing his relentless assault on your body. "Because I'm enjoying this and I am going to make you mine," he declared, grabbing your hips more tightly, guiding your movement with his firm hands. You gasped as he slammed into you, his cock hitting the deepest parts of you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You fought the urge to cry out as he mercilessly fucked you, his thrusts deep and unrelenting.

"Good girl. Keep taking my cock," Cillian groaned, his voice muffled.

He grabbed your hips roughly, forcing you to arch back against him, and you moaned softly, unable to resist the pleasure he offered.

"So tight," he murmured, pumping into you harder.

"Can you feel my cock stretching you open?" Cillian murmured, his voice heavy with lust.

You winced, your muscles tensing, but nodded weakly, unwilling to break the spell that Cillian had woven around you.

"Good," he groaned, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into you with renewed vigor. "I want you to cum for me, Y/N."

His words jolted you, stirring a strange sensation within you. You'd never experienced anything quite like this before, overwhelmed by the mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

The fear of disappointing Cillian fueled your determination to satisfy him, despite the discomfort.

"Do you like that?" Cillian murmured, his voice deepening as he buried his cock inside you multiple times. "Feel my cock stretching you open."

Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage like a frenzied beast. You moaned softly, struggling to contain the mounting desire raging within you.

"Yeah, that's right," Cillian growled, punctuating each thrust with a sharp yank of your hair.

"Scream for me, baby."

You whimpered, your cries echoing in the silent room. Every brutal thrust of his cock stretched you open, driving you toward the precipice of orgasm until, finally, you could not take anymore.

You screamed, your voice reverberating through the room as your orgasm washed over you, consuming you whole.

"Yes, that's it," Cillian murmured, his voice strained and desperate. "Come for me, Y/N."

You thrashed beneath him, writhing uncontrollably as he pummeled your depths, milking your release. Your screams echoed in the silence, as the sheer force of your orgasm shook you. You cried out, your voice raw and hoarse.

The pleasure consumed you, obliterating any lingering fears or doubts.

Cillian continued to pump into you, his cock relentless as it plundered your depths. You clawed at the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrendered to the exquisite torment until, suddenly, he withdrew and quickly removed the condom.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice strained yet commanding as he pumped his cock with his hand.

You complied, turning to face him, your chest heaving with exertion.

"Open your mouth," Cillian said, his voice low and gruff. You parted your lips obediently, exposing your moistened flesh beneath his scrutiny.

"I will cum inside your mouth again, so open wide," Cillian murmured, his words laden with intent.

With a practiced twist of his wrist, he aimed his pulsating shaft directly at your waiting mouth. The head of his cock swelled, eager to be welcomed inside.

"Good girl," he groaned. "Here it comes," Cillian jerked his hand, unleashing a stream of cum straight into your mouth. You gagged, choking on the warm liquid as it filled your mouth.

"Swallow it," he barked, his voice strained with lust. "Every last drop."

You coughed as the thick substance filled your mouth, and you wondered if you'd ever forget the flavor of Cillian's essence as you gulped it down.

Your heart thumped erratically in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins like a drug. As you lay on the rumpled sheets, the remnants of ecstasy and exhaustion pulsed through every fiber of your being.

"That was quite something," Cillian murmured, tracing light patterns on your arm with his fingertips. "But I must admit, I'm surprised by your eagerness to please me. I did not expect such obedience from anyone really."

You shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "Well, I must admit, I had my fair share of wet dreams about you so I really wanted to please you," you replied, hoping your answer sounded casual enough. "And it's not everyday you get to sleep with a famous actor."

Cillian chuckled softly, leaning in close to kiss your cheek.

"Hmm, you know what I have been fantasizing about?" Cillian mused, brushing some hair away from your face and kissing your forehead lightly. "I've been fantasizing about keeping someone like you at my house for a few weeks. Someone who agrees to let me do whatever I want to her. Someone I can use every day for my pleasure," Cillian explained as he traced a gentle pattern on your arm with his fingertips, his eyes locked on yours. "Would that interest you?"

You hesitated, your heart fluttering at the idea. "Well, I don't know..." you trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant. "I mean, I guess I'd consider it."

Cillian smiled mysteriously, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous sparkle. "Good," he said, his voice dropping low and seductive. "I get my assistant to send you a contract then. You can read it, see if you are okay with thee terms and then we can make arrangements," Cillian suggested, his tone hinting at an excited undercurrent.

You blinked, your mind racing with possibilities. The idea of spending a few weeks with Cillian, submitting to his desires, seemed both terrifying and thrilling. "Sure, I'd love to see the contract," you agreed meekly, secretly yearning for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

"Good," Cillian grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Although, you better think it though thoroughly, Y/N. It involves me doing things to you which you may not necessarily enjoy," Cillian said, his voice deep and resonant. "I won't ask for your consent or permission during every encounter. You will be in some pain and you will most defiantly be sore. And most importantly, you'll be in my house, with no contact with the outside world whatsoever during our arrangement," Cillian told you matter-of-factly, as he ran his fingers gently down your arm.

Tags: @ietss @thorins-queen-of-erebor @cilliansbabe @calmingmelody96 @lavender-haze-01 @febris-amatoria @cursedalchemist

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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velnna · 19 days

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What's wrong with using a pose ref lol, didn't you just redraw a screencap from a tv show

See this is why I prefaced it by saying it's not objectively "wrong", it's a personal take and a grey area. Ultimately if an artist tells you they're uncomfortable with something and you choose to do it anyway it's on you if they then complain about it or ask you to reconsider, it's not the law. You can always tell them they're wrong but then don't be surprised if they take issue with that lol

But for a more detailed answer, I know I've said this a thousand times but I'll always hammer it in. I think there's definitely leeway to do redraws of things across media (so if you redraw a screenshot from an animated show and link said redraw etc, I see it as more of a transformative thing and a tribute than just straight up copying. Same for live action or even photographs - the same way that if someone took one of my drawings and decided to replicate it in photography or animation with a very clear link to it I would see it as more of a tribute because it's transformative) but even then if anyone was shown to take an issue with it I'd just Not Do It. Also the vast majority of the time these things are memes and very obviously a nod to the original one rather than me saying "look this is totally something canonical to the characters I'm drawing and didn't originate elsewhere"

There's times when I don't take an issue with people using my poses as inspiration or reference but a lot of my work does sort of just work as pieces of a comic or a scene that I don't like seeing repurposed for other characters. But that's the keyword: I don't like it. Not gonna send the police after you for it or claim copyright or even force you to take it down but I may *ask* you to reconsider it and think about it. And if it's a recurrent thing and I see you do it a lot I may insist 🤷‍♂️ it's a boundary I established but others are free to feel differently

ALSO I'm not referring to accidentally creating shit that's too similar. We all take inspiration from each other so that's bound to happen. I'm mostly referring to when it's very obvious a single artwork was used as a direct reference - and again, no shade if people do it without realising the artist might feel bad about it. I never assume ill intent from the get go

#ask #im not the only artist feeling this way too #so I think it's just something to keep in mind you know

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

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Submission

Photography Professor!Fem!Reader x subby!student!Wanda

Word count: 1,060

Warnings: student teacher relationship, established relationship, W submits to R

Her eyes watched you from afar twice a week. Green emeralds trained on you as you walked back and forth talking about various photography methods. Today was specifically about filling a frame and how to do so properly.

As you continued to impart your knowledge on framing techniques, you couldn't help but notice how Wanda's dedication shone through her unwavering focus. Her presence in the classroom was a testament to her commitment to the craft. Her every movement calculated and deliberate, as if each second spent in your lecture, was a precious opportunity not to be squandered.

You knew some of these students were taking this class as an art elective, but this semester you had a good amount of actual photography majors one of them being Wanda Maximoff whose eyes don’t leave you the entire three hours of your lecture.

During the breaks, while other students dispersed, Wanda remained rooted in her seat, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on fascination. It wasn't just admiration; there was something deeper in those emerald eyes, a hunger for knowledge, perhaps, or maybe a recognition of a kindred spirit in the realm of photography.

You looked through your papers and notes while snacking on something that required one hand. Today, you had a small bag of popcorn, and you noticed she had some apple slices today, which made you smile. She was behaving and listened to you when you told her that she should have healthier snacks during classes.

As it came up to the last hour of class, you began talking about a photo contest that everyone was welcome to enter into. You always loved contests and competitions. You especially loved seeing everyone’s submissions and the different approaches they would each take to different competitions.

“Alright class I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough. I’ll be passing out flyers for you to look over. The deadline is next Friday for the Fine Art Photography Competition. So, if you wish to participate, please hand in your photo to me before then, and if you’re picked, we will be going to Germany on an all expense paid trip. Your photo to be displayed for art critics and lovers alike to take notice of you. If you are chosen for some of you, this could be your big break into the art world.” You tell them, your heels clicking as you walk back and forth, your dark grey cardigan flowing behind you.

“Is there any specific theme we need to work with?” One of your students, Jean Gray, asked with a raised hand.

“No, so please, I implore you to work with your strong suits if you want to enter. The sky is the limit on this. Your eye and imagination are what will hold you back, but I believe in all of you.” You told them confidently and finished up answering any other questions before dismissing them for the day. “I will see you all on Tuesday. Have a good weekend, everyone.”

They all filed out as you sat back at your desk, pushing your glasses up on top of your head as you look at the papers on your desk, reading through the students latest works and quizzes from Tuesday that needed to be done by next Tuesday along with ones needed tomorrow for your Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes. You hear a pair of boots walking towards you. You don’t have to look up to know who is standing in front of you,

“Yes Wanda can I help you?” You say keeping your gaze on the papers in front of you, marking them as you go and looking at the photographs that go with the assignments. Grading art, even after going through getting your Master of Fine Arts and teaching for a few years now, grading artwork wasn’t always so easy.

“Ms. Y/L/N...” You flick your eyes up just enough to see she’s playing with the hem of her skirt, pulling it up ever so slightly as she does so. You take your eyes off her thighs that you just want to bury your face in. You know better, though; not here, never here. Now she’s pulling her sleeves over her hands as she begins. “I...I want to enter the competition, but...” Her words trail off as you finally huff out, tearing your eyes away from your paperwork.

“Wanda. Words. Use them.” You say a little frustrated with her. You see her bite her lip, and for you that’s strike three of her anxious habits. “Come here.” You command, moving yourself back from the desk, turning your chair to the side so she can stand in front of you, which she does without need for more words. “Kneel.” You tell her, and she does so. You smile at her easy submission to you. She had always been so pliable for you. “There now that you’re where you belong. Do you feel better?” You ask, tilting her chin up so her eyes meet with your own.

“Yes.” She smiles up at you, you can see how she’s calmed just from the small form of dominance over her, sometime it was all she needed for her head to clear up and the thoughts to quiet down even if it’s only for a little bit.

“Good now, what is it about the photo competition that’s bothering you so much, sweet girl?” You ask, running your fingers through her hair as she sets her chin against your thighs. She gently tilts her head so she can look up at you.

“Well my specialty like yours is boudoir photography. Is it okay to submit something like that?” You smirk, continuing to run your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scratch gently at her scalp. She closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling.

“Yes just not too risky, okay, pretty girl? Also, the picture better not be of you. Your body is my eyes only.” You tell her, and she smiles with a nod. “I need to get back to these papers and you,” You boop her nose, “need to get to your next class so off you go little one. I’ll see you tonight.” She smiles, getting up. You pull her back in for a chaste kiss before letting her head off with the promise of seeing you later.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #subby!wanda #professor!reader #professor!au #wanda maximoff x female reader

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kimberleyjean · 4 months

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Not *A* Resurrectionist Pub, *THE* Resurrectionist Pub! (or is it?)

We've all seen the Resurrectionist Pub many times, yeah? In Episode 3 we get a decent look at it. So, remind me again, what does The Resurrectionist's sign look like?

Is it the image on the left? Or the one on the right?

They look quite different, don't they? The version of Dalrymple on 'Sign A' has a massive, bloody cleaver, it's pretty hard to miss. In contrast, 'Sign B' is significantly less bloody.

Well, Sign A is a screenshot directly from the show, Episode 3, just before Aziraphale walks into the pub. Sign B is what you can see in the behind-the-scenes photography here.

So why the difference? Did they make two versions to compare? Maybe they decided on 'Sign A' as the one they wanted in the show?

Well, why then do we see both? As Aziraphale walks into the pub at 22:44, we see Sign A, but only seconds later, by 22:53, Sign B is visible through the window.

Here's Sign B, as Az walks into the Pub:

Compare this close-up of Sign B (left) with the pamphlet Az picks up as he leaves (right):

They're the same, less-bloody version of Dalrymple. They wanted us to see both versions in the show.

So, how does history remember Mr Dalrymple? A bloody butcher? A dedicated surgeon? Or somewhere in the middle, a complicated character, made from shades of grey?

Also, if you're curious about other discrepancies in Good Omens, please check out my previous post about the "Surrender the Angle" sign or any of the posts over at @ineffable-detective-agency. Thanks also to @embracing-the-ineffable for her help on this post.

#good omens meta #ineffable mystery #good omens clues #mr dalrymple #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens analysis #the resurrectionists #the resurrectionist pub #ineffable discontinuity #bts photos #bts #behind the scenes

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toulousewayne · 8 months

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Batfamily Shenanigans:Head-canons Pt: 1

Bruce eat Peanut Butter from the jar and it drives Alfred mad. Has a kid it was the only thing that calmed Bruce down after his parents,but as an adult he still does it.

Bruce cannot cook in the kitchen, but he can grill just about anything and does it with minimal effort.

Dick, Bruce,Alfred,Steph and Duke are right handed. While, Babs, Jason, Damian, and Kate are left handed. Tim is ambidextrous. Damian hates it.

Damian is vegetarian, Dick and Babs will try different restaurants with him and some of Dick’s new favorite takeout is a vegan and vegetarian Asian restaurant in Uptown.

Alfred prefers Earl Grey over any other tea.

Tim got his GED,at first the he didn’t want to tell anyone but Damian found his mail and told him he was proud. But threatened him if he breathed a word to the others.

Duke sometimes get overwhelmed during the day patrol and other bats sometimes will randomly come by to check on him.

Bruce to his credit was still getting hang of being a father with Jason and Dick. Tim was more of a partner at first, but later on he became his son. He really got improve and do better with Damian. He’s still trying but at least that counts.

Jason does have the white tuff, however after speaking with Talia and Damian he learns it’s not a result of the pit. And it’s actually Vitiligo.

Stephanie is actually allergic to eggs, put loves them so much that everyone just carries Benadryl. Cass keeps her EpiPen.

Duke is the best swimmer out of his siblings.

Kate does not like desserts, she doesn’t have a big sweet tooth. Bruce however is a Cookie Monster.

Babs has had LASIK however she still wears her glasses to not strain them while looking at monitors all the time.

Alfred the Cat, loves Tim’s room more because of his window. It gets the best sunrises and sunsets, he enjoys the warmth from it.

Ace prefers to set at Bruce’s feet in the cave. Bruce enjoys his company.

Cass and Dick have dance classes together in the ballroom. Dick is surprisingly good at Ballet.

Jason will eat his siblings leftovers. Tim will get him half his PB&J and Jason will devour it in seconds.

Talia used to make food with her mother has a little girl and did the same with Damian. He tries to teach Bruce some of his favorite food. Poor Bruce isn’t very good at it but the enjoy the bonding.

Cass can identify which of her brothers is the closest by their scents. Dick has a vanilla and cedarwood smell,Jason smells like Grapefruit and Amber, Tim smells like French lavender, Duke has a grapefruit and Patchouli scent, and Damian smells like cinnamon.

Barbara likes when Cass and Damian make her handmade jewelry over being bought stuff. She wears a gold locket Cass gifted her everyday. And has a ring and charm bracelet that Damian gave her for birthday. She never takes these off.

Tim is allergic to shellfish.

Bruce cannot stand strawberry jam, he prefers grape much to Alfred’s horror.

Stephanie will stack plates, silverware and cups like a server. It’s habit she got from her Mom and hates leaving a mess for Alfred or any other server to clean.

Jason has smoked from time to time. But will snap if he sees his little brothers do it. Jason will Mother Hen them to death.

Alfred is the best marksmen with long ranges guns, Jason is the best at versatile shooting and Barbara is the best firearm shot.

Cass,Steph are the same height, both are an inch taller than Tim, Duke is to inches taller then them.

Tim and Damian are the artist of the family. Damian prefers classic art, like oil paintings, pottery, and marble sculptures. Tim prefers modern art, photography, stone sculptures. Diana takes them to her art gallery on the weekends.

Bruce is the slowest to text back, Jason and Damian ignore texts if they’re not emergencies,Tim emails the fastest, the only good testers are Steph, Duke, and Barbara. Dick will ignore your text and FaceTime you to ask you to repeat the question instead and Cass prefers a phone call.

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arthyritis · 7 months

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Here are the pictures I mentioned like last week by the way 💛

#grey does photography #amateur photography #photography #sky #clouds #urban #city #toronto

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tj-dragonblade · 2 months

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[FLUFFBRUARY FICLET] Vogue

Rated: M Word Count: 756 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff with added heat, human AU, photographer-model roleplay

For my dearest @staroftheendless - happy birthday! The stars aligned and I managed to bang out this little scene, built on today's Fluffbruary prompt and featuring not-a-shaved-panther human!Dream just for you ❤️

Fluffbruary Prompts: Day 21: photography pepper truffles Day 22: key silly quest

Summary: Dream comes home and Hob greets him with a camera

On AO3

"There he is!" Hob exclaims, and whisper-yells to simulate crowd noise, camera flashing as the door to the flat opens. Dream pauses on the threshold, caught off guard, keys still in hand, and then his expression shifts as he takes in Hob, shirtless, snapping photo after photo. He smiles, slow and sultry, tosses his head and runs a hand through his hair, shakes it out as he shuts the door and sets his keys aside. He pauses briefly on each move, posing, letting Hob get every shot like they're on the red carpet, and Hob plays it up, crooning directions in between.

"Yeah, that's it, give me lips—" Dream pouts, full and rosy pink, framed by his three-day stubble, and the camera flashes. "Beautiful, gorgeous, yes. Give me flirty, playful—" Dream hooks a finger under the knot of his tie and tugs it loose, flicks open the buttons on his collar, smile coy, eyes a simmering sapphire blue under his lashes. "Love it, sweetheart, you're a natural," Hob praises, clicking away. They've gone from imaginary red carpet to imaginary private studio in two seconds flat but that's really not the point here, is it. "Lose some layers, let's relax a bit, yeah?"

Dream, bless him, manages to make the process of removing his shoes and socks while still standing look sexy, somehow; Hob makes sure to catch his bare feet with their ebony toenails in at least of couple of shots. Dream shrugs out of his neat slate-grey blazer next, turning and giving a coy come-hither gaze over his shoulder as he tugs it off his arms and casts it aside.

"That's right baby keep going, you're doing great," Hob offers, halfway between his photographer-with-questionable-ethics persona and genuine praise. It's harder to keep up the role the further they get into it, but he knows Dream has fun with these silly little games and so he does his best. "Show me something dirty, now, something sexy." He's backing down the hall as Dream advances, heading inevitably for the bedroom.

"Hmmm," Dream purrs, thoughtful; then, eyes never leaving the camera, he brings his wrist to his mouth and unbuttons the cuff of his sleeve with his teeth. His other hand is busy with the buttons down his front; he switches and continues, repeats the cuff-unbuttoning on the other arm.

"Perfect," Hob leers, backing into the bedroom, snapping pic after pic, "keep it coming, make me, uh, make me forget my own name here—"

Dream lifts his arms, shirt hanging open, cuffs undone, and rakes both hands back through his hair with a moan. His eyes are closed, lips parted, head tilted back; the loose tie around his throat is a slash of deep burgundy against the black of his chest hair and the white of his skin and Hob loses his breath for half an instant at the sheer compositional beauty of the sight, grateful that he's already got his camera in action.

He is so fucking blessed, to get to call Dream his.

Dream lifts his head, rolls his shoulders, drops his hands to his belt and meets Hob's gaze through the camera lens again. He undoes the buckle and pulls the slim leather free in one swift motion, drops it lazily behind him as he enters the bedroom. He flicks open the clasps on his trousers, draws the zipper down just enough to tease, then palms himself in one hand while the other snakes up to pull his tie completely free. He gives Hob another second to take photos while he's gripping his crotch and then he turns, steps over to the bed and falls gracefully back onto it. His hands are above his head; he winds the tie loosely about both wrists and then holds the ends in his fist, a token show of restraint. His shirt is wide open around him, dusky pink nipples on display, the dark hair on his chest trailing beautifully down his abdomen into the open fly of his trousers, where he is visibly aroused.

Hob stares, lifting his gaze from the viewscreen on the camera, achingly hard himself and losing the thread of his character entirely. "Fuck me, you're gorgeous," he breathes, snapping a few more photos. He can't help himself.

Dream smiles, sultry, decadent, and arches invitingly against the sheets. "Put the camera down, Hob," he purrs, flexing his fingers where his hands are 'bound' above his head. "Your model has worked hard, and would like to be ravished, now."

Hob is only too happy to comply.

= Drafted: 2/20/24 - 2/21/24 Posted: 2/21/24

#TJs Fics #TJs Fluffbruary #Fluffbruary 2024 #Dreamling #Sandman

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cable-knit-sweater · 1 year

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When you’re close up, give me the shivers

a moodboard by cable-knit-sweater

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: T

Wordcount: 1.4k

Tags: au - model/photographer, au - modern, photographer Steve Rogers, model Bucky Barnes, age difference, slutty Bucky, flustered Steve

Written for: @stuckybingo | card: R4005 | Square: N5 - AU: Model/Photographer

A.N: This was gonna be a different fic. Then it was going to be a short blurb. Then it turned into a ficlet. I blame @late-to-the-party-81 😂💖

Summary:

Steve’s been a professional photographer for over a decade. His work has been featured in countless magazines, on billboards, in fashion articles and photography books. He’s shot some of the most beautiful, most interesting, most powerful people in the world. He’s won numerous awards, is sought after by so many for his work. It means his schedule is fully booked, like, always. It also means he earns enough money to afford a gorgeous loft apartment that can easily double as a studio when he wants to.

Steve’s mostly unfazed by the supposed glamor of his job or the world he inhabits. He can see how some of the models he’s photographed represent some sort of beauty ideal, even if he doesn’t necessarily always agree. He’s not actually always a fan of the circles he works in — because of the beauty ideals, but also because there’s some sort of toxicity in it sometimes, one he tries to avoid. It’s made him somewhat of a recluse, at times, which in turn has caused people to speculate a lot about him — and his personal life.

For some reason, there’s this assumption that he probably has hooked up with some of his models. Sure, he’s found some of his models attractive, but he’s never pursued anything. He’s aware of how he himself looks and he’s had models make a pass at him, or ask him to go out on a date after they finished shooting, but he’s always declined. Steve doesn’t mix business with pleasure. He’s seen how that goes. It’s a rule he put in place for himself long ago and it’s worked out fine.

He’s going to have to break that rule.

When the model he was supposed to shoot doesn’t show up…he’s annoyed, to put it mildly. It’s happened before. Most models are - even if they’re demanding sometimes - conscientious of his time. He doesn’t want to sound like an asshole, but standing him up like this is rude, and his time is valuable.

He calls the agency — and they apologize, telling him the model will be there in 15 minutes, almost half an hour after they should have started. Steve sighs. He can make it work, but they’ll lose some of the light. He’s frustrated for sure, but all he can do is wait.

When the model does show up… At first Steve is grateful for being patient for once, because the model is gorgeous. Then he curses everything in existence including himself because the model is gorgeous, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to keep it together.

It’s not even the soft looking - albeit slightly messy - curly brown hair, or the gorgeous grey-blue of his eyes, or the dimple in his chin. It’s red bitten lips, the look in his half-lidded eyes that makes him look like pure sex, a jawline that could cut glass. He’s wearing a leather jacket over a black t-shirt, impossibly tight black jeans. Steve forgets to breathe for a moment, looking at the guy a little dumbly.

Those red lips curl into a slightly wicked smirk, like the guy knows exactly what kind of effect he has on people. On Steve.

“Sorry I’m late,” the guy says, looking up at Steve from below his eyelashes, with big blue eyes that have Steve entranced. “My cat locked me out of my apartment.”

It’s the dumbest reason, the dumbest lie, Steve has ever heard. No one in their right mind would believe that. “Th-that’s okay, no worries at all!” he stammers out. “It happens?”

What the fuck. Who is he?

The guy giggles a little. It’s a great sound. Steve wants to roll around in it.

“I’m Bucky,” he says, “it’s an honor to get to work with you.”

“I-uhm, I’m- me too, I mean, I’m Steve.”

Steve needs to get himself together. Not in the least because Bucky bites his lower lip to stop from laughing, undoubtedly about how much of an idiot Steve is. It’s the worst thing he’s ever seen. He wants to pull that lip from between Bucky’s teeth. With his own.

But Steve’s a professional.

So much of a professional he’s completely forgotten what the assignment for this shoot is by the time Bucky has gotten ready.

This isn’t showing off clothes, or a formal portrait. Bucky is an actor – Steve will need to look up his work after this – and this shoot is for some sort of magazine article. They want Bucky to capitalize on the image he’s made for himself through some of the TV shows he’s been in and…

Steve remembers laughing when he’d first seen the note. “Ideally, a sorta messy twink look,” it actually says. That’s…that’s the idea they’re supposed to be going for here. He’s definitely not laughing anymore. He also definitely needs to watch more TV.

It doesn’t start off too smoothly. At first, Steve is too tense to actually focus on Bucky enough for the photos to come out well. Then later, when Bucky “has an idea” – which apparently involves taking off everything but his jeans – it doesn’t go so smoothly because Steve’s heart goes into overdrive and his skin feels completely on fire.

He doesn’t usually get this flustered. But everything about Bucky just seems to make him lose a little bit of higher brain function.

The way the dog tags he’s wearing nestle between sparse chest hair covering toned pecs.

The way his hair gets even messier the more he runs long, elegant fingers through it.

The way he continues to bite his lips until they look positively indecent.

The way he touches Steve’s arms, telling him to relax, making Steve shiver instead.

The way he looks at Steve with a gaze so heated that it feels like it burns into Steve’s skin.

The way he says “where do you want me, Steve?” in a voice laced with so much innuendo…

Steve is only so strong. He’s barely hanging on.

They do a couple of shots near the window, while there’s still enough light. The camera loves Bucky and it should be easy, but it really isn’t, given all the distractions.

They do a couple of shots with Bucky laying on Steve’s bed – Bucky’s idea, again. It almost makes Steve’s heart give out, makes his fingers itch to touch. He wants to scream. He’s a professional.

Bucky keeps making it worse with the looks he gives the camera - he gives Steve. He’s being a tease, Steve’s pretty sure of that by now, but he decides to stick to his rule. He’s never broken it before. He’s not gonna break it now, as much as he almost aches to give in.

It’s not until they do some shots in the bathroom, that Steve’s resolve crumbles. Bucky has put on his tank top again. With the water pouring down on him, the fabric clings to his body. But it’s the way he looks up from underneath his wet lashes, with his mouth half open and his lips so red, looking like, like…

Bucky knows exactly what he looks like and he knows Steve knows it too.

Then Bucky says, a smirk on his face, eyes knowing: “You wanna join me? Maybe a cold shower would be nice?”

And Steve gives in. He cannot take it anymore. Bucky has completely broken him down.

He puts down his camera as calmly as possible – when he’s feeling so far from fucking calm – then breathes in, gives Bucky one more look, then takes a couple of quick steps towards him, crowding Bucky against the shower wall and pushing up against him. He barely spares a moment to look into Bucky’s eyes, to see if this is what he wants – whether he wasn’t just trying to rile Steve up without wanting to follow through on anything – before claiming his mouth with his own.

Bucky kisses back eagerly, pressing up against Steve even more. Steve can’t bring himself to care about completely ruining his clothes. He finally gets to take Bucky’s lower lip between his teeth. He pulls on it a little in admonishment, growling: “Wanted to do that all fucking day.”

“Thought I was gonna have to spell it out for you,” Bucky chuckles a little breathily, “F-u-c-k m-“

Steve cuts him off by claiming his mouth again in a heated kiss, hands traveling down to unbutton Bucky’s jeans.

Bucky ends up on his knees in the shower. His lips end up an even more indecent shade of red.

And Steve ends up breaking his rule. Maybe some other things in his apartment too, in their rush to get to Steve’s bedroom later on. Who knows.

So what. Sometimes, rules are meant to be broken.

Faced with Bucky Barnes, Steve really never had any other choice.

#maya tries to write #stucky bingo #stucky fic #stucky #steve x bucky #ficlet

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fire-on-thirst · 11 months

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Gotta say I love ur work so much. Can we get a lestappen Instagram fic and maybe a lewis And charles fic, either as friends or in a relationship.

I have this headcanon where lewis and charles are friends and Lewis visits charles and goes into his wardrobe and finds out he has many fashionable clothes but was either too shy to wear them to the paddock or was afraid of being accused of copying lewis, but lewis convinces charles of wearing them to the paddock. And they come in on race day both looking fabulous maybe they are matching or they simply came together.

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc Travelling the world with you makes it so much better!! ❤️✈️🌏

I have also been told that I must point out that those stuffed animals are all mine. (They are not)

view all 8274 comments

landonorris *cough* photo credits for some of those *cough*

danielricciardo Me too

pierregasly Me Three

landonorris if we have to deal with this shit we should at least get photo credits

charles_leclerc Have you got something stuck in your throat you gremlin?

landonorris .sebastianvettel Charles is being mean to me

sebastianvettel And this is why I refused to have an Instagram account

pierregasly This post is both sweet and sickening. It would probably be more sweet if I didn’t see it often or walk into something that has caused me to be scarred for life

arthur_leclerc You’ve only walked in on them once?

landonorris You’ve only recently walked in on them??

user1 Does that look like Max?

user2 Charles and Max Verstappen? I think you need to get your eyes checked

user1 He liked the photo though

user2 Doesn’t mean a thing

leclerc_pascale Beautiful Couple ❤️🥰

charles_leclerc Merci maman ��️

leclerc_pascale I assume you are taking good care of him?

charles_leclerc Maman, aren’t you meant to be asking him that? I’m your son!

leclerc_pascale He’s also my son. Debatably my favourite. Are you taking care of him?

charles_leclerc HE’S YOUR FAVOURITE?!?!

arthur_leclerc MAMAN!

lorenzotl EXCUSE ME!!

leclerc_pascale He’s the only one who hasn’t caused me any stress or gave me grey hairs

maxverstappen1

liked by arthur_leclerc, danielricciardo, victoriaverstappen and others

maxverstappen1 I think I’ve got a stalker 🧐

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landonorris Don’t call me a stalker. It’s called personalised photography

maxverstappen1 If you break into my house to take pictures of me sleeping it’s called stalking

landonorris Don’t forget the time I snuck into the shower 🤤😉

user1 LANDO 😂😂

danielricciardo I don’t think you mind this one specific stalker

maxverstappen1 🤫

victoriaverstappen Wonder who the stalker is? 🧐

user2 Charles just posted a post with his partner and now Max??

user3 And Arthur has liked Max’s post. I didn’t even know that Arthur followed Max

user2 Something is definitely happening I can just feel it

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc I wanted this to be a cute little reveal but then you called me a stalker so the cute reveal went out the window. Here you guys go anyway, me and maxverstappen1 are dating and have been for several years now. We hid it not knowing what the reaction would be and partly scared we would lose our seats in F1 which has been both of our dreams since we were young boys. Eventually I gained the courage and came out as gay to the world and said that I was also dating someone and the support I got was unimaginable. Yes obviously there was some hate but most of it was supportive and just overall kind.

After a long discussion we no longer wanted to hide this relationship from everyone and why should we? Other people in the paddock don’t have to do why should we? Yes a Ferrari driver is in love with a Red Bull driver and if you don’t support it then don’t support me (or him). It’s our life to live and everybody else has has to just real with it. I will still fight on the track to win the championship and under no circumstances will I just let Max win. We are both professionals and both too stubborn to actually let the other win. We’ve been together for several years and have had several battles on track (just without you guys knowing about the relationship) and it never stopped us then so it won’t stop us now so nobody has to worry about any of that.

maxverstappen1 Thank you for everything that you’ve done throughout the years and the memories that you have given me and we certainly have many more to come especially now that we don’t have to hide. (I hope everyone is ready for the spam that is going to come on my stories and posts). … I Love You!! ❤️

Ps. I will beat you to a championship one day

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landonorris WOOOOOOOO!!!

danielricciardo Fucking finally. Can I now post all the pictures I have of the two of you?

arthur_leclerc 👏🏻👏🏻 Happy for you!

pierregasly 🫢😱🤯 You and Max together never would’ve guessed that. Congratulations though for finally announcing it. I can now officially make jokes in interviews.

victoriaverstappen Wonderful Couple 🩷

scuderiaferrari Congratulations. You’ll always have us behind you!

maxverstappen1 I love you too you soppy idiot 💙

charles_leclerc ❤️

charles_leclerc Your turn to do a post on me

maxverstappen1 Maybe when you win the championship

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Also here is the Lewis Hamilton x Charles Leclerc drabble.

#instagram au #max verstappen/charles leclerc #charles leclerc/max verstappen #lestappen #mv #cl #drabble book #lewis hamilton/charles leclerc #charles leclerc/lewis hamilton #lh #f1 instagram au #anon request

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