Being personally victimized by my solo playthrough of Baldur’s Gate 3. I’ve done all the exact same things but Astarion just refuses to try and drink from me or flirt back with me.
Yet, on my playthrough with @ayeforscotland, I’m constantly anemic and bloodless from Astarion crawling into my camp bed every night and calling me a freak.
Like I’m not complaining about that part. I’ve got zero issues making horny bad decisions live on stream, but I’d also like to make them on my own time, too, thank you very much.
835 notes
·
View notes
cw: you two have a son together, mention of being married, old man Bakugou
older retired pro hero Bakugou, who you find hunched over his desk one night. it’s late and the day was long and your son was whinier than he usually is. you’d think the old man would be in bed right now, but alas—he’s not beside you.
instead, as you round the corner to get a full look at him, he’s wearing his reading glasses, adorning an old ratty tank, his arms still big but softer than the years from before. he has a book open in front of him, desk scattered with pictures you can’t see from your angle, scissors, stickers, glue sticks.
“What are you getting up to at this hour, old man?” You ask softly, smiling when Bakugou doesn’t even look up from what he’s doing. his tongue is sticking out in the corner as he cuts a squiggly line on a picture, posing it beside another on a blank piece of paper.
“Therapist said I should get into crafting,” he grunts, finally looking over at you from over his glasses. “Do things with my hands, feel busy, get my mind off’a shit.”
you pad over to where he sits, the overhead lamp on his desk focused on the big baby blue book with white pages. peeking over his shoulder, you rest your head on top of his, chin nestled in the still unruly blond and silver locks, overseeing his work.
and honestly? it almost makes you wanna cry. it’s a scrapbook, the page open to pictures of your wedding day, how pretty you looked, how big he smiled at you. you can see other scattered pictures on his desk—when you got a promotion at work, when he was number one for seven months in a row, a positive pregnancy test, the cutest baby you’ve ever seen, two little teeth coming in, baby being held in dads big ole arms that will always protect him.
“After this page, I gotta do the honeymoon.” Bakugou speaks gruffly, setting down a picture to wipe a hand down his face. “And then life accomplishment shit, the baby, his first steps.” He sounds so tired, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, sliding down to smush your face against his own.
“You always have tomorrow. Come to bed.” You say against his cheek, squeezing him when you feel the rejection start up in his belly. But he deflates, pulling his glasses off, reaching around to pull you in his lap. He looks so grumpy, with his frown lines and crows feet, and yet so handsome with his small smile and soft eyes.
“I’ll print more pictures tomorrow. And maybe go by the store to get some more stickers, too.” He tells you in between kisses, his words soft, his hands rough through your pajamas. You hum against his mouth, holding his nape, afraid to ever let him go.
“You do that. Now let’s go to bed.” You whisper, standing up and pulling him with you. He closes the scrapbook for now, and you glimpse at the cover, heart melting at the picture of you two holding up your son, both kissing his cheeks. The picture is captioned with “Our Life” and you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to have met him.
415 notes
·
View notes
You can't just leave him to suffer all alone Makoto... ;w;
So this is essentially a role-reverse of this comic XD (idk why)
Makoto may be super moody and fussy when he catches the flu; but if Yuma catches the flu, he's super needy and clingy when delirious. And it looks like Makoto can't say no to him... x'D
I guess your work is going to have to wait after all. Now you better properly take care of your sick original! (just try not to get sick yourself hehe)
I know this comic is usually supposed to be heartwarming but...I made it more silly.
because they're silly lil' guys... x'D
Based on another skit from @foxes-in-love
35 notes
·
View notes
before peter had met tony, he had to rely on nothing but himself, his costume hand made and his web formula created in his school’s laboratory.
spider-man didn’t have a fancy suit with millions of different commands and safety protocols coded into it, he didn’t have someone to call when he got a particularly nasty stab wound or a mild concussion— spider-man couldn’t rely on anyone or anything but himself.
so really it shouldn’t be any different during winter. the weather was slowly getting colder and colder and it was obvious spider-man wasn’t coping well with the shift, his hands trembled fingertips numb while he swings around stopping petty thefts and low level drug deals; his ears tinged red under the suit, stinging because of the cold.
why the hell didn’t spiders thermoregulate? he could break down a steel door and catch a bus but god forbid he keeps himself warm, that’s way too unrealistic.
but he couldn’t stop being spider-man because of the cold— people were still getting hurt regardless of the snow or rain, what right did he have, staying home in bed, bundled up with blankets while people got hurt?
new york wasn’t oblivious— winter was coming and spider-man was struggling, his little quips and the back and forth between criminals and the police had slowly stopped and the vigilante looked like he was running on auto pilot.
a small group of people; local teens from a highschool decided that enough was enough and came up with a plan; they started knitting winter clothes that would keep their vigilante warm, because if he insisted on protecting them the least they could do was make sure he was warm while doing it.
the news spread around and suddenly, spider-man was wearing a new knitted beanie every day— different design scattered across the scarves wrapped tightly around his neck while he gives directions to an old lady.
god, the best thing was the heated gloves— they fit perfectly around his hand while giving his web cartridges space to work. his finger tips felt slightly better and the familiar stinging pain that would encase his ears had nearly completely disappeared, his headaches lessened and new york beamed at the sight of spider-man swinging around with new found strength.
and when spider-man finally meets tony stark who gives him a total upgrade — a real suit, safety protocols and thousands of commands coded in, including a very helpful heater— he doesn’t stop wearing the beanies and scarves, swinging around the city every winter with a new set of clothes every day.
132 notes
·
View notes
So one of the things that made me cry (and laugh) the most, when reading the whole series was in Debriefing when Ice has surgery and Mav kisses him on the forehead, then Ice types out “I am cured” with like no punctuation. (Because of course Ice is the punctuation man 99% of the time.)
One, Ice is actually so fucking funny with the “I am cured.” Like no one would believe how funny he actually is. (And I headcanon that Mav knows this, of course, but almost no one else believes him. Which drives him up the wall.) Two, that exchange was so simple but so loving??? Foaming at the mouth here. Especially after those crazy 30 years. So my question is, what are Ice and Mav’s kisses of choice? Forehead, cheek, regular ol’ lips, the world is their secretly sappy oyster.
I haven’t read that chapter of debriefing since fucking last October! Whoa! not sure how i feel about it .
regular ol’ on the lips :) it means something more than all the rest, it’s romantic in a way none of the others are (which is why it’s so dangerous)
okay yes re: ice being funny yes. wait wait wait let me find it in my doc hold on
here!
122 notes
·
View notes