Dave has discovered the joys of playing in the sink. But I can’t let him do it too often because otherwise he will spend hours staring mournfully at the tap waiting for me to turn it back on. He’s addicted.
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bg3 players who weren't in early access cannot fully comprehend the absolute whiplash of the "make your character :) have fun :)" followed by an immediate "now make their wet dream. Not gonna tell u for what tho ;)"
And then u go about the game for a few rests and BAM. Your character is now very nearly having dream sex with whatever chucklefuck you decided was their most carnal desire. LIKE OOOH "Make your guardian" COWARDS. WHY DIDNT YOU KEEP THE SLUTTY GUYS I MADE
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Wild is child who you need to keep stimulated so you can get things done. When I was younger I loved watching food network especially iron chef, unwrapped and good eats along with the holiday specials and it was to the point where my parents would have vhs tapes and dvds filled with the stuff to turn on for me when they needed to do important work and I see the chain or his s/o doing the same on his slate for him.
the only reason wild is able to cook so well is because whoever took care of him in the castle made him watch cooking shows whenever he wasn't training-- what's more, they would put on competitive cooking shows and that's why he's so critical of others cooking when he eats, it's canon, zelda told me herself
when it comes to keeping him busy nowadays, the chain or his s/o probably do it to keep him from finding out about a surprise or something. maybe they have to beckon him away somewhere private, sit down with him for a few minutes to watch an episode with him, and then leave to do whatever they have to do-- or maybe they're trying to finalize some paperwork but he keeps bothering and pulling them away, so they treat them like a cat by pulling up a chair and putting on a video while they work
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sometimes i think about how different my life would be if my mom hadn't told me about anne rice lmfao
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fic snippet (thomastair)
Alastair draws himself a hot bath when instructed in the next few notes, being liberal with the perfumed salts Thomas left out and losing himself in the heady scent of lavender. He continues to read—careful not to get the book wet in the process—until his toes are pruned and the water turns cold. He changes into the fresh pyjamas folded neatly on their bed after finding another by the towel he dries himself with, and he slides under the covers after he finds what he assumes is the final note of this elaborate event:
I hope you are feeling refreshed and thoroughly relaxed, mi amor. Now rest. Cast aside all your woes and allow the night take you on a grand adventure amongst the stars.
But there is just one final thing I’d like you to do. My final request.
Dance with me when I return from patrol?
It takes everything in him not to squeal like a little schoolgirl, and his voice is strangled as he whispers at the paper, ‘God, I love you, Tom.’ He raises it to his lips and kisses it. ‘Of course I’ll dance with you.’
With that, Alastair switches off the lamp and settles against the pillow, making sure to hold that little piece of paper over his heart. Moonlight streams through the curtain and onto the bed, silvery and bright, and he closes his eyes.
The grandfather clock downstairs fulfils its duty once again. It chimes through the silent house, a verbose sound.
One o’clock, it says. Definitely past bedtime, it says.
But Alastair cannot sleep.
Never mind Thomas’s sweet request to dance when he returns home, as much as it presses at his mind. He wishes to be against Thomas, to feel his hands on his waist and to hear his heartbeat in his ear as they sway in each other’s arms, and his body aches for it.
But he wants Thomas home safe and well and in bed with him more.
~
no graphic this time as this is a spontaneous decision, but here, have a little sneak peek into the historic valentine's day thomastair fic i'm working on :>
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