#he doesn't have wrinkles

[kstarlitchaotics]

Why does it look reversed with the aging of him

Then and now.

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

smooth astarion scares me- bc legit who is that

that is NOT my astarion i only know him

[bumblingbabooshka]

Older Tuvoks

[chatonyant]

One more, im in a mood

look i need people to draw plum blossom sword saint as an old man oK?? OK??? HE IS 80 SMTH CAN HE HAVE WRINKLES PLEASE

[morrigan-sims]

the whole "family"

I made Rook's mom in the sims because I was bored and wanted to see what she'd look like. Gorgeous, as it turns out!! Which isn't surprising given her son is the most beautiful man of all time. Rook doesn't even know her name or anything about her, and has never met her, since she handed him off to Alistair at the first chance she got. Rook has no interest in meeting her because of that, plus the fact that in his mind, all birth/legal family is awful and fucked. As far as he's concerned, he doesn't have a mother.

[the-busy-ghost]

Me normally: Let people love what they love

Me, after a Test Match Special commentator expresses their belief that the new All Creatures Great and Small is somehow "better" than the 1978 version: This is pure insanity and TMS can no longer be trusted on anything, how can they even be trusted to know about cricket, do they have no TASTE

[linaxart]

Ever the gentleman

[unreadpoppy]

I'm gonna try and explain this theory in a way that makes sense so bear with me

We know that Haarlep can take the form of whoever they fuck. Okay. But like, does their copy get updated or is it stuck in time?

Like, let's say Haarlep fucks someone with long hair, and then two weeks later, that person cuts all their hair off. Will Haarlep's version still have the hair or does it get magically updated? Would the person have to have sex with Haarlep again for it to get updated?

Because if Haarlep only keeps a copy of the original, maybe that's the reason they look younger than the actual Raphael.

[irelandseyeonmythology]

One thing I'm mildly obsessed with is the idea, that we see in a couple of texts, that the Tuatha Dé regularly "put on" another form, even though might have a "true" face or appearance.

Like, how much of that image of perfection that they convey is them naturally looking like/obviously medieval writers writing them to conform to a specific image, and how much of that is them very consciously projecting the image that they WANT to project?

Do they have stretch marks? Do they have lines under their eyes, or dark circles? Do they have scars from battles that took place centuries ago? Do they have laugh lines or frown lines? Like.

[shiawasekai]

Before I go to sleep, remaining bits i want to cover in the Endless Reference Sheet:

-Act 1 and Act 2 designs, which are for the most part iterations on material I already have. So that's not particularly hard.

-Pre-game (aka teenager) design, together with Samel's teenager design.

-Post-recovery (in other words, years post-game) design, + Samel's design as an elder man.

Which is a bare minimum on 3 extra "slides."

The post-game stuff is the scariest because I need to find a proper way to fit the feathers (she IS supposed to be embracing them, so just making a hole for the longer ones won't do) and I need to figure out an ellaborate design for a man that looks like a spry elder in his 70s despite being actually on his 90s, high-level spellcaster benefits

That's a lot of designing from zero and i'm tired just thinking in it.

[astudyintheburningofhearts]

The fact that my friends aren't liking the Barbie movie is so annoying because PLEASE MA'AM, LET ME LEAD THE CLASS TODAY AND DO A DEEP DIVE ON WHY THIS MOVIE IS EXTREMELY VALID IN TODAY'S DAY AND AGE AND WHY RYAN GOSLING WAS A GOOD KEN. PLEASE.

[lisbonsteresa]

spiraling again

[welcometogrouchland]

well idk about anyone else but i- as the anon who sent u the darius camila ask in the first place, would be elated

I'M WORKIN ON IT FOR U ANON 🫡

[ryanthedemiboy]

If NASCAR can make stock cars (this means chassis and shape that are the same as yours) that can go 200mph and wreck head-on and do a dozen flips in the air, and the worst that happens is a concussion, with the car even still almost intact, then you can make a street legal car do the same at 40% of that speed.

Here's one of the wrecks btw. He was taken to a local hospital for observation, not even a concussion (NASCAR reports injuries to everyone for transparency), and he raced the next week. (Although he did have a couple bruised eyes iirc)

He climbed out of the car almost completely under his own power.

[luvnami]

even in his sleep, toji doesn't seem to fully relax.

he's lying on his side with an arm under his head. the other is haphazardly thrown over your waist, making sure you don't wander too far away from him.

there's that little crease between his eyebrows that you chastise him about, telling him he'll get wrinkles when he's older, but when has he ever cared about that? he's spent so long trying to survive each day that asking him about his plans a month in advance would warrant a shrug and a lazy 'i dunno'.

you run a thumb over his cheek, peach fuzz soft against your touch. toji stirs. his steady breathing hitches and he huffs himself away, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.

"what?" he grumbles.

"you're such a light sleeper," you observe, though toji just replies with a disgruntled noise.

he doesn't particularly like it when he's woken up, so he opts for burying his face in your chest to block out the dim light in the room. your hand combs through his hair.

"go back to sleep, toji."

you don't have to tell him twice. he falls asleep again, tension ebbing out of his body.

you kiss his hairline and close your eyes.

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.