#loss of loved one gifts

[noisycowboyglitter]

Explore Canadian Ugandan Flag Butterfly Art for Home and Office Decor

The "Canadian Ugandan Flag Butterfly" beautifully symbolizes the unity between Canada and Uganda through the enchanting imagery of butterflies. Featuring the colors and designs of both nations' flags, this unique motif represents not only a celebration of cultural

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diversity but also the connection between two distinct heritages. Butterflies, known for their transformative nature, embody hope, freedom, and change, making them a fitting emblem for cross-cultural relationships.

This design can be found in various forms, including art prints, home décor, and apparel, making it a versatile choice for gifts or personal expression. Perfect for celebrations, events, or simply as a way to honor the ties between Canada and Uganda, items featuring the Canadian Ugandan flag butterfly convey a message of love, acceptance, and collaboration.

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Whether gifted to friends, family, or community members, these items serve as a reminder of the beauty found in diversity and the connections that transcend borders. The "Canadian Ugandan Flag Butterfly" theme not only resonates aesthetically but also encourages appreciation for different cultures while fostering understanding and friendship. Embrace this captivating symbol and showcase a commitment to unity and harmony.

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Butterfly memorial gifts are heartfelt tributes that honor the memory of loved ones who have passed away. Symbolizing transformation, hope, and new beginnings, butterflies serve as a gentle reminder of the enduring bond we share with those we've lost. These gifts can include memorial jewelry, personalized keepsakes, or decorative items that feature delicate butterfly designs. Ideal for funerals,

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anniversaries, or moments of remembrance, butterfly memorial gifts provide comfort and solace during difficult times. Each piece resonates with sentiment, celebrating the life and spirit of the deceased while offering a sense of healing. By choosing butterfly memorial gifts, you create lasting memories and express love and appreciation for those who have left a cherished mark on your heart.

[basilibino]

Season 8 was like 6 years ago(I feel old) and I know ppl have differing opinions on the Mr Echo thing (but it was intended, made it to storyboard and blocked animation and then dropped, soooo) but. I can see his recruitment p easily tbh. Bc the whole reason Dr J was in that lighthouse was because he was resurrected, forced there, and ordered to build Skulkin vehicles by Samukai. But Samukai in the flashback we see has already been deposed as leader of the Skulkin/Underworld. Which means the orders to do so most likely came from Garmadon.

And since Mr. E is one of the head honchos, he's likely an early arrival to the team, so I don't think Harumi has a whole lot figured out at this point, she's just got her Trauma and some Bad Influence Friends and an obsession with Lord Garmadon. So. Like. Plausible deniability road trip that she's just visiting important markers of Ninjago's recent past, all of which involve Lord Garmadon in some meaningful way; its sightseeing, its cathartic, and it gives her time to develop her dream Motorcycle Gang/Resurrection Cult. She's not looking for anyone at the Lighthouse, but she is looking for vehicle blueprints so she can be the Koolest leader on the block. But oops she looks in the basement and there's an Echo.

And she's flipping out bc??? A Ninja???? In the Lighthouse basement??? I mean it makes sense that it would be this one but???

Except this rusty old robot has no idea what she's talking about with this Ninja stuff, he's just waiting for his dad to come back.

And Harumi pauses.

Because how long has he been waiting? He's not sure, he had no proper way to measure time in the basement, and he doesn't have the best view of his clockwork heartpiece. But it was after his father saw a strange ship docking; Echo was worried it was the People who had locked up his father in the first place, but instead his dad sounded happy when he saw whoever was out there. It could have been a front, though, as clearly it was never safe to let Echo back out. Then Dr J popped down briefly, while everyone above was resting, to tell Echo he was desperately needed elsewhere, that it wasn't safe to bring Echo, but that he'd be back in no time.

And the pieces are fitting together for Harumi. And she's like. Your dad's dead, bro.

And he's like. What? Did he die doing what was needed of him?

And she's like. Oh, no. He died a few years later.

And he's like. Why didn't he come back for me????

And she's like. Probably because they kept him away.

And he's like. Who's they?

And she's like. The Ninja I was talking about earlier.

And it surely can't be hard in universe to find pictures of Zane and Dr J post s2-pre s3, so she pulls one up and shows Echo who is freaking out bc why is that one kind of like him and Harumi explains that that was the droid his father created first, that he became a Ninja, and that hes probably the one who took their father away and kept echo waiting for years.

But Echo has doubts, shocked as he is abt a new older brother, he wants to believe the good in the situation so he's unsure. But Harumi mentions that the Ninja's failures to uphold more than their self preservation/interests has led to uncountable losses and devastation in Ninjago time and time again, before delving into her own story. And she seems so kind, and so hurt, and I do think there's a genuine connection btwn these two that forms from this shared emotional torment that they decide came from the Ninja, and now Echo is more receptive.

And then Harumi gets to start her Garmadon pitch because wait! If Echo was made here, then that could only have happened because of Lord Garmadon. And she reiterates that he's the reason she and her city could have even survived The Great Devourer. And maybe Echo's family-by-creation left, maybe they were untrustworthy and lacking, but that's OK bc if you look at it all a certain way, Garmadon is more of a father to Echo than Dr J was. And Echo is a vulnerable, overwhelmed mess who just found out his dad fucked off for years without him and also died, and also he has a brother??? Who their dad clearly seems to have favored??? Did they even know about Echo??? Did they delight in their life free of him???

Basically. Kinda Spinel-core but getting abandoned and left completely alone does that to you. Especially when the first person to find you after being abandoned is a deeply hurt and misguided teen who is probably kinda desperate for someone, anyone else to see the Ninja the way she sees them.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

this is my little girl 💖

she’s running low on time with us, and my dad has been saying things along the lines of ‘this is why I don’t like pets’, because he finds the grieving process so hard.

I don’t fault him for that, he just feels loss deeply and deals with it differently.

sometimes I even find myself falling briefly into the same thinking. ‘what if making a different choice all those years ago saved me and my family from this grief and this pain?’

but I also know there’s no way I would make a different decision. no amount of grief could outweigh the joy she’s brought us over these last fifteen years. the laughter, the comfort, the connection.

I think about hikes with my dad when she was tiny and able bodied and would race up ahead of us on the trails and then race back to check on us. I think about the first time she saw snow and she instantly turned into a tiny fluffy bunny rabbit, hopping through drifts that were ankle deep for us but nearly buried her, and the matted snowballs she came away with, looking like a tiny curly haired yeti.

I think of her interrupting GrammE and John’s wedding along with Sagie, confusion turning into laughter as they sped after each other across the backyard ceremony. I think of my mom, lonely on the island and isolated during covid, telling me that Ginger was her saving grace.

and these don’t even scratch the surface. fifteen years of love she’s given us.

so yeah. losing her is going to damn near break me and I know that. but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

[yuelun]

This young man displayed the true prowess of alchemy to all, bringing with him a massive corpus of wisdom that even the Sumeru Akademiya did not possess. "The universe is heaven reversed, and the earth is a dream lost to time. This is dust, the most basic form of complex life." As if to provide evidence for this claim, Albedo lifted the burnt ash of the flower that once grew atop a Dendro Slime's head. Seconds later, a Cecilia sprouted forth from the ash in his hand. "And this… is new birth." (Albedo: Character Story)

When I've been wrecking my brain over whether or not Genshin draws the correlation between dust and ashes, and I happen to look into Albedo because of his tie (we can... call it that) to alchemy, and even the art of Khemia specifically which is the much more ancient form of it, and there it is. Now excuse me as I go ramble in my tags a little incoherently...

[siixkiing]

...you know, I might have to make sure I have the colors BUT I kind of want to make some LMK perler charms for my mutuals/friends of their characters now.

[fanfoolishness]

Just losing my mind at the implications that the companions have all been trying to help Rook grieve Varric, and Rook doesn’t know

Emmrich, wise and long-familiar with grief, being told by Neve and Harding what happened; understanding why sometimes he overhears Rook’s muffled voice in the Infirmary, talking to no one. He takes Rook to the Memorial Gardens and mentions he talks to his parents, thinking Rook might be comfortable with the same. Rook lights candles and rings bells but Emmrich watches, sorrowed, to see Rook still seems in deep denial.

Neve takes Rook to the Wall of Light; a Shadow Dragon Rook knows just what this means but any Rook can understand the solemnity, the power of remembrance. Neve reenergizes Brom’s light and looks to Rook, hoping Rook will mention wanting to make one for Varric. Rook is kind and comforting to Neve, but Neve is lost in wondering why Rook doesn’t take the chance to open up. She can’t figure it. Maybe Rook just can’t face it, not yet. Maybe Rook does something privately. She isn’t sure but it nags at her.

Davrin’s not big on talking about feelings. He’d rather just move on. But he sees the way Rook seems a little hollow sometimes, a little distant; he sees how Rook takes so quickly to Assan. “Hey Rook,” he says, and invites them to come with him and Assan to safe places in Arlathan, where the woods are clean and green and growing, where real sunlight dapples through the trees. Rook always seems to love these outings, seems lighter afterwards. But Davrin feels a little confused in that Rook never seems to realize the outings are mostly for them.

Taash is another person not big on feelings. But they know how much feelings can twist you up and mess with your head. When Lace tells them about Varric they feel badly for Rook, and think to how they feel when they’re struggling. Epic fights, dragon fights, drinks with the Lords. Taash is perfectly capable of doing all that on their own. But maybe bringing Rook along will help get them out of their head a little bit. Does it help? Taash isn’t sure.

Bellara’s double-versed in grief after what happens to Cyrian. Rook helped her through trying to reach him, and Bellara wonders, in her own pain, if she can help Rook a little bit too. Especially if Rook is elven, teaching Rook about the braziers and the challenges is another tool she can share about her or their people, another way that might help Rook with their grief. Neve’s told her that the Wall of Light didn’t seem to help Rook much, but maybe a different funeral tradition could help them instead. Rook helps her light the braziers and Bellara feels her heart lightening, though she wonders at Rook, who seems more moved by Bellara’s reactions than anything else.

Lucanis is nearly as allergic to dealing with feelings as Davrin is, but he immediately clocks how Neve and Harding are acting, and asks what happened before he joined them. They tell him about Varric and that they’re worried about Rook, that Rook seems to just be shoving those feelings down without dealing with them. Lucanis is no stranger to that, but while it’s fine for him, he doesn’t want to see someone who risked their life to save him share that struggle. He brings Rook to Caterina’s funeral planning to show Rook it’s okay to admit the loss and honor it. When that doesn’t seem to make a dent, he falls back to his standard - lavish meals, small gifts, coffee. He knows it would help him. He just wishes it helped Rook too.

Lace hurts the worst after losing Varric and Lace is where Solas’ magic comes the closest to faltering. Rook can see Lace is down, she’s quiet, she’s afraid after what happens with the gods escaping; but Solas’ magic holds and Rook can still never see quite why. Lace would love to sit over drinks one night and share stories about Varric, but she sees that Rook doesn’t seem ready, and she doesn’t want to push. Instead she writes letters to Ma, to the Inquisitor, to Cassandra, to Aveline, maybe even to Hawke. She writes out her stories with Varric’s old quill and she carries a bolt of Bianca with her. A dozen times she goes to talk to Rook about him, and when she tries Rook turns away or changes the subject. It hurts, but Lace knows she can’t make Rook talk about him, and she hopes in time it will get better.

This just absolutely crushes me the more I think about it 😭

Edit: Varric’s death is Rook’s personal companion quest every other single companion tries to help them with, and can’t 😭😭😭

[amavaria]

The fainting couch

Back with my more rarijack nonsense. This time I decided to add a ship meme to make my headcanons known lol

I think Applejack would be very affectionate in most ways since she had to deal with loss very young and has learned to not take anyone for granted. Rarity doesn't mind this at all, she loves the attention.

Rarity's main love language would be gift giving, she'd make all sort of handmade things for Applejack and she would treasure every single one of them.

In my mind the got together during season 4 and are basically an established relationship for the episodes to come after.

Bonus doodle because I saw this picture and immediately thought of Applejack lol

[viperbunnies]

BNUUYNUUY SPOYTED 🫵🫵 OMG SYDER THIS IS SO 💥💥

LIVE REACTION:

happy belated birthday @viperbunnies! congratulations on another revolution around the sun as the rabbit hops another lap around the moon 🐰 (concept inspired by @fell-e!)

[noisycowboyglitter]

"Discover the Significance of the Addison Disease Awareness Butterfly"

"The Butterfly of Resilience: Raising Awareness for Addison's Disease"

The butterfly, with its delicate wings and remarkable transformation, has long been a symbol of strength, resilience, and the beauty that can emerge from adversity. In the realm of health awareness, the butterfly has become a powerful emblem for Addison's disease, a rare and chronic condition that affects the adrenal glands.

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Just as the butterfly undergoes a remarkable metamorphosis, those living with Addison's disease must navigate their own journey of adaptation and personal growth. The butterfly, with its ability to soar and thrive despite the challenges it faces, has become a fitting representation of the determination and inner fortitude required to manage this complex medical condition.

By embracing the butterfly as a symbol of Addison's disease awareness, advocates and supporters aim to shed light on the experiences of those affected, fostering a greater understanding and sense of community. The vibrant, colorful butterfly serves as a visual reminder of the fragility and resilience inherent in the human spirit, inspiring empathy, education, and a collective commitment to supporting those living with Addison's disease.

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Through the powerful imagery of the butterfly, the Addison's disease awareness movement celebrates the remarkable individuals who, like the butterfly, have the courage to spread their wings and overcome the obstacles in their path. It is a symbol of hope, strength, and the unwavering belief that, with the right support and resources, individuals can thrive and live fulfilling lives, despite the challenges they face.

"Honoring Cherished Memories: Butterfly-Inspired Memorial Gifts"

In times of profound loss, finding ways to commemorate and celebrate the lives of our loved ones can bring a sense of comfort and solace. Butterfly-inspired memorial gifts stand as poignant tributes that capture the essence of the human spirit and the eternal cycle of life.

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These thoughtful offerings, ranging from delicate jewelry pieces to serene garden accents, serve as tangible reminders of the fragility and beauty of existence. The butterfly, with its remarkable transformation and graceful flight, becomes a powerful symbol of the soul's journey, offering a gentle reminder that though our loved ones may no longer be physically present, their spirit lives on, free and unbounded.

By gifting these meaningful butterfly-themed items, we honor the memory of those we've lost, cultivating a lasting connection and a profound sense of healing. These treasured keepsakes become cherished touchstones, allowing us to celebrate the lives of our loved ones and find solace in the eternal cycle of nature's wonders.

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[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to get the creature to come to you. Like to give them a little gift of some sort.

[emotargaryen]

christmas in less than a week and i havent gotten anybody a present

[gay-dorito-dust]

Would they or would they not catch you…

Dick: yes. 100% yes but he’s -no pun intended- a little bit of a teasing dick about it.

He will catch you but then act as though he’s going to drop you by loosening his grip, making you scream out of surprise and cling onto him tighter, all the while beaming that bright and beautiful smile of his as though he wasn’t about to willingly let you fall flat on your ass on multiple occasions.

‘I fucking hate you!’ You whined, smacking Dick on the bicep.

‘Oh do you now?’ Dick inquires as he slowly begins to losses his grip on you, smirking.

‘Did I say hate you? I meant love you, a lot! Please don’t drop me.’ You cried as you tightened your grip on his neck whilst struggling to keep your feet from touching the floor. ‘Awww I love you too gorgeous.’ Dick coos as he pressed kisses into your face as you could only glare at the cheeky bastard.

You hate him sometimes but you weren’t going to complain about the affection you were being given. So you guess you’ll suffer for now.

Side note: he might even try and see if you can catch him. 💀

Jason: He will catch you but makes it a big deal whenever he can. He loves holding you in his arms.

He could keep you in his arms forever if he could but knew that he can’t, so he settles for going about his day carrying you throughout the apartment instead.

‘You can put down any day now.’ You’d tell him but that only makes Jason tighten his grip on you as he moved in his makeshift library for a book to read.

‘No.’ He simply replied, scouring the many book titles in front of him in the hopes that one might speak to him. You pout. ‘What do you mean no?’ Jason then looks at you and says. ‘No means no. As in no I will not put you down because I do as I like and will not be told otherwise, so the cutie currently in my arms has to deal with it.’ He then smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead before looking back towards the bookshelves.

You end up falling asleep in his arms and Jason couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were, even if you did look like the living dead.

Damian: says no but will in fact catch you without hesitation.

However if you do try to tease him about it, then he will drop you without a second thought. ‘You can catch yourself next time.’ He would say as he walks away, leaving you with a bruised ass. Titus -who saw the whole thing- would come up to you to make sure you weren’t genuinely hurt and encourage you to get up by nudging you with his head.

Don’t test him because he will do it and then act like the whole thing didn’t happen if you were to bring it up.

‘Dick.’ You’d say as you stood up.

‘I heard that.’ He’d call back, his voice echoing off the walls. ‘You were meant to.’ You reply. ‘And at least Titus came to check up on me to see if I wasn’t hurt.’ You’d add while scratching Titus behind the ear.

Needless to say you were more cautious when choosing Damian to catch you. However he does apologise for dropping you on your ass by gifting you something he himself drew by hand; He secretly doesn’t like it when you’re upset with him and will do anything to rectify it.

What a sweetheart.

Bruce: he’s too use to you pulling this type of shit that it’s basically muscle memory for him to catch you as you’re running towards him, all with a straight face mind you.

Be grateful because he risked a much needed bowl of Mulligatawny soup just to catch you in his arms, but then again the kisses you bombard his cheek is more than reward enough, a small almost missable smile appears on his lips as he then proceeds to carry you for the rest of the day as “punishment.”

( this only occurs when Bruce is feeling particularly affectionate or playful)

Much to your batkids -Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke, Cass and Steph- dismay. They’d want to use this as blackmail, but they know that it will backfire as you’ll probably hang the photo on a wall somewhere in the manor, reminding them of how disgustingly their parents can be when given the opportunity.

[witchywcmans]

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 

[moechies]

happy father’s day ♡

“happy father’s day.” you purr, turning your face to meet the man behind you.

you grind your clad pussy subtly against the man’s buldge, making him groan.

“whaddya mean , hm ? we don’t got kids, doll.” toji grumbles against your neck, hand coming up under your shirt to grope at your warm tit.

“s’because you’re my daddy.”

he chuckles, warm breath spreading across your skin, sending a shiver down your back.

“is that right?” he whispers, hand now trailing lower and lower, fondling your soft tummy. he reciprocates your neediness, rolling his hips back into yours following your rhythm. his beefy tip nudges against your slit slightly, causing you to jolt.

“mmf— mhm .”

“y’gonna give y’r daddy a blowjob then?”

“you’re so gross, toji.” you giggle.

“don’t be fussy now.” he reprimands, sitting up against the headboard before placing you in between his legs. he crosses his legs behind you, caging you in, leaving you no space to move from the position he set you in.

“make daddy feel good.”

“‘kay, daddy,” you mumble, rubbing your cheek over his clothed bulge. you press hot kisses all over his shaft, starting from his plump balls, ensuring you lick on them to work him up, leading your way up to his cock head. his slit leaves a creamy residue on the fabric of his boxers, bleeding onto the other side.

you waste no time licking and sucking on the little slit of cream through the fabric, sighing at the feeling of your hot tongue pressed against his cock head.

“shit.”

he watches you from afar, mouth so close yet so far from his dick. he really can’t stand it !

“d’you want more daddy ?”

“course, doll face. be good and put that sweet mouth to use.” he pulls down his boxers just below his fat balls before pressing your face inches away from his cock. you watch his tip drool, pre cum dripping down the underside of his shaft. you lick up a stripe, bringing your lips to suckle on the swollen head , running your tongue through the salty divot.

he lets you take your time, enjoying the show you’ve put up for him. your eyes peer up at him once in a while, glassy and full of love, to be met with his emerald ones that glow with a glint of evil. toji truly is an evil man.

“don’t make me wait now. be good f’your daddy ‘nd suck him off, yeah?” you bring your lips further down his shaft, hands coming up to jerk at the large gap of cock that your little mouth is incapable to handling itself. it damn near makes him moan, watching you try to please him to the best of your abilities. he wasn’t used to such treatment , especially when you’re used to laying below him and allowing the hunk of a man do the work. not like he minded, at all.

you continue suckling on him, hot tongue dragging along the veins of his cock. it wraps around his pudgy tip perfectly, pressing a bit of pressure on his slit making him shiver and groan.

“t-that’s enough , get off doll.”

he tugs you off by pulling at your hair, making you whine at the loss. saliva strings from your glossy lips, connecting you to the tip of his cock. you could only think about the loss of his fat load in your mouth, the creamy and salty texture painting your face in fat spurts, now all gone in a matter of seconds.

“n-no, why , daddy ? ‘s supposed to be your gift !”

you whine , a petulant pout spread across your face when he holds you tight by your scalp to prevent you from crawling back onto his dick. he smiles.

“y’only stopped me because you were gunna cum.” you bark, lips quivering at the sight of his drooly cock before you.

“yeah, so? gotta put this load to use . don’t got as much as i used to, doll.” he chuckles, flipping you below him in one quick motion. his calloused fingers come to pull your panties aside holding them in place with a fat thumb, revealing your messy cunt. you gasp , and he allows you no time to reciprocate what’s happening before he begins rubbing his messy cock head in between your folds, separating the fat lips.

“happy mother’s day , doll .”

“what’re you talking about? w-we don’t have kids.” you mock meekly with a giggle.

“oh,” he laughs.

“we’ll see about that.”

[luv-lock]

⸻ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Aegon I Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: Aegon spends his life desperately trying to win the love of his sister. And yet he's never enough.

Warning: Non-Con (rape), targcest, physical violence, murder, obsessive and delusional behavior, child loss/grief.

Notes: English is not my first language. Art belong to Denis Maznev. Hope you enjoy!

She was always there.

From his earliest memories, her face is etched in his mind like a cold, pale moon. She never smiled, never laughed. Never cried. Just looked. Always watching, always silent. Even as children, while Rhaenys played with him, she was a shadow in the background. A constant presence that gnawed at him, her cold eyes watching him with that empty gaze. It was as if nothing could move her, nothing could please her. But he tried. Gods, how he tried.

He was barely seven, still small but proud of the sword his father had given him. He had trained for hours, his arms aching, his legs sore, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to show her. He wanted her to see him—really see him—for once.

He had run to her, his little chest puffed out with pride, holding his wooden practice sword like it was Blackfyre itself. "Look! Look what I can do!" he had said, his voice bright with excitement. He swung the sword in wide arcs, spinning and thrusting as best as his small body could manage. "Did you see that? I’m going to be a great warrior! You’ll see!"

But she just stood there. Watching. Her face expressionless, her eyes cold, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t even blink. It was like he wasn’t there, like his efforts were meaningless.

He had felt something tighten in his chest then, a feeling he didn’t understand. A hollow ache that made his hands shake as he gripped the sword tighter. He tried again, swinging harder, faster. "Are you watching?!" he had shouted, frustration leaking into his voice.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything.

She never did.

And that’s how it always was. Every time he tried, every time he showed her something—his victories in the yard, his skills in battle—she just watched. Her cold eyes always on him but never giving him what he craved. Never giving him anything.

But then, that day came. The day that broke something inside him.

He remembers the sound first. The sound of her laughing. It was so foreign, so unexpected that he almost didn’t believe it at first. He had stopped in his tracks, heart racing, the sound of her laughter echoing in his ears like the sweetest music he’d ever heard. For a moment, just a moment, he thought it was meant for him. Finally, he thought, she was laughing. She was happy. Maybe, just maybe, he had done something to make her feel.

But then he saw it.

She wasn’t laughing with him. She wasn’t laughing for him.

She was laughing with a man. Some nobody. A fool. A good-for-nothing who could never even begin to understand her, let alone deserve her. And yet, there she was, her eyes shining, her lips curved into a smile—something Aegon had never seen in all his life. She was radiant, her laughter like music, but it wasn’t for him.

The rage came fast, burning through his veins like fire. How dare this man, this insignificant speck, be the one to bring her joy? How dare she smile for him, laugh for him, when she had never once given Aegon anything but that cold, dead stare? He could hardly see through the fury as he drew his sword, his heart pounding in his ears, and with one swift strike, he cut the man’s head clean off.

The blood sprayed across the floor as the man's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, useless. And Aegon, triumphant, stood there holding the severed head, his heart racing with the thought that maybe now—now—she would see how much he loved her.

He brought the head to her, a smile tugging at his lips, presenting it like a gift, like an offering to a goddess.

But then, for the first time, he saw her cry.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, silent, like everything else about her. She didn’t wail or scream, just wept, her cold, distant eyes filled with sorrow. But not for him. Never for him. The realization hit him like a dagger to the chest. She wasn’t crying for him. She was mourning the other man, that worthless fool.

Could she not see? Could she not understand what he had done? He had killed for her. For her. To prove his love. Why couldn’t she see that?

It was worse now. So much worse.

He stands in the room, their child’s room, staring at the small bed where their son had once slept. His heart is heavy, his chest tight with grief that he can’t seem to swallow. Tears burn in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Their child is dead. Gone. And he can barely breathe from the weight of it.

But when he looks at her, she’s standing by the window, her back to him, staring out into the night as if nothing had happened. As if their son wasn’t lying cold and still in the crypts below.

She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t even move.

His son, their child, lay lifeless, and yet...she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. The realization gnawed at him, twisting in his chest like a knife. If it had been another man’s child, would she be mourning now? Would she cry for that child, like she had cried for that worthless fool?

"Do you...do you not care?" His voice cracks, the words barely a whisper. He feels like he’s choking on the silence. "He was our child. Our son." His hands tremble, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why… why?"

She doesn’t answer. Of course, she doesn’t.

She never answers.

The hollow ache that had plagued him since childhood is back, sharper than ever. He stares at her, at her still, cold form, and something inside him snaps. He can feel it, like a tether breaking, a dam bursting inside his mind.

"Why?" he growls, his voice low, trembling with fury. "Why can’t you love me? Is it really so hard?!" He steps toward her, fists clenched, his heart hammering in his chest. "I’ve done everything for you. Everything!"

His hands shake as he grabs her by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him. She looks at him with that same blank, emotionless expression, her eyes cold and distant, as if she’s not even here. As if she’s not even alive.

"I killed for you!" His voice is rising, desperate, wild. "I’ve fought for you, bled for you! I’ve done everything you could ever want, but you—" He pauses, his breath coming in harsh gasps as a dark, twisted thought coils in his mind. "Is this because of him? Because I killed that servant? Did you really think he could love you more than I do? That he deserved you? Him?"

His grip tightens, fingers digging into her flesh. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rage coursing through his veins. "I am the one who loves you. I’m the one who’s always loved you!"

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react. Just stares at him with those empty, cold eyes.

The silence is unbearable. It breaks him.

With a roar, he grabs her dress, tearing at the fabric, ripping it apart in his hands. He’s rough, vicious, his fingers leaving bruises on her pale skin as he forces himself onto her.

She doesn’t fight back. Doesn’t scream. She just lies there, blank, her body cold and still beneath his. The more she doesn’t react, the harder he thrusts, the rougher he becomes, as if he can force her to feel something—anything. He can feel the blood, can see the bruises forming on her skin, but she just keeps staring at him, those empty eyes boring into him, cold and unfeeling.

But it didn’t matter.

She will love me. She will.

"You will love me," he growls, his voice low and savage, each thrust more brutal than the last. "You will love me. You’ll see. I’ll make you."

But she doesn’t change. She never changes.

Even as her body bleeds, even as he takes her in the most violent, twisted way, she just looks at him with that same cold, distant stare. As if he’s nothing. As if nothing will ever be enough.

Her eyes stayed cold.

Her eyes stayed empty.

And still, he kept going.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[bright-n-daisy]

I just love you

Pairing: Logan ‘Wolverine’ Holwett x afab!reader

Summary: You are exhausted after a day of work, after a subtle gesture of love, Logan has ideas other than sleep.

Warnings: MNDI 18+, fluff, established relationship, pet names (baby, bub, darling), SMUT, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cockwarming, tiniest bit of somnophilia (reader is fully conscious but very tired), only body descriptions include being smaller than Logan and afab reader, small nod to reader being an empath. A bad word. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: K I had this idea pop up while I was trying to take a nap lol. I haven’t written for tumblr in years and don’t expect this as a comeback. Enjoy!

It wasn’t unusual for you to feel a lull in energy around midday. Sometimes caffeine would suffice, but you could already tell that was not the remedy your body needed today.

Your last class had just finished up. It had been a rough day with students not behaving. Yes, there was a certain prestige that came with your students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, but at the end of the day, they were still teenagers.

As you stand in your office packing up your bag, awaiting the comforting bed you know is just upstairs and across the building, you hear a familiar pair of boots thud down the hallway. With the tall figure now standing in the doorway, you feel the tension of the day ease, but the weary feeling remains.

“I know that look.” Logan says. “C’mon bub. Let’s get you upstairs.”

He waits there until you make your way over to him. Once you meet him you place a hand on his cheek and a small peck to his lips. No matter how long you two will be together, a gesture that small, that domestic, makes a faint blush appear across Logan’s cheeks. With a flick of his neck, silently guiding you out the doorway, he keeps a hand at the small of your back as he closes the door behind you.

In the confines of your shared room, you can finally feel totally relaxed. Logan waits for you on the bed as you change out of your work clothes. You opt for your favorite choice as of late; one of Logan’s t-shirts that is oversized on your frame.

You crawl your way on the bed and place yourself on Logan’s bare chest. He knows when you take a nap, it’s for you. He is here for you, at your pleasure, not that much has changed from how he normally treats you. He lays on his back as you cuddle up to his side, laying your head on his chest. You are lulled off into a sleepy haze as you run your hand across Logan’s chest and he gently plays with your hair.

Before you lose any more energy and fade off completely, you turn your head slightly and place a tender kiss to Logan’s abs.

“What was that for?” Logan asks through a soft chuckle.

“Just love you.” You all but mumble.

“Just love you too.” He whispers as he slowly pulls away from you.

A soft whimper escapes your lips from the loss of warmth, only to be replaced with his body over yours. Laying flat on your back now Logan kisses from your cheek down your neck, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses just below your jaw.

“Lo, too tired.” You utter, unable to believe those words just left your mouth.

“That’s fine baby. I’ll do all the work, okay?”

“Okay.” You confirm.

That’s all he needs to continue his work. Still sucking on your neck he takes a hold of one of your breasts slowly massaging it to get you worked up. Once he feels satisfied, he trails his mouth down your body to your core, exactly where he wants to be.

He pulls the shirt up slightly to reveal your cunt. With a small groan leaving his lips, he runs a finger between your folds. Just enough of a touch, it has you instinctively lifting your hips off the bed.

“So wet for me. So pretty.” Logan hums, keeping his eyes locked to your pussy.

“Please baby.” You sigh, waiting for more.

With a hunger needing to be satiated, Logan dives into his favorite meal. Lazily licking and sucking in all the places you need most. This isn’t how Logan would normally do this. Usually there is a fervor to his actions, he can’t wait to hear your sweet moans and will do whatever it takes to make you reach your peak. Today he chooses to simply enjoy the moment, enjoy every minute he spends between your legs, memorizing you.

There is a certain simplicity in sex that he has never been able to enjoy before. Only ever having one night stands, or quick fucks to get him off. He’s never necessarily cared for the other person. Not until he met you. Coming to the mansion changed his life in so many ways, and you were the best of all of them, it feels so easy with you.

Logan is brought back to reality by your soft moans and a passive hand coming down to grip his hair.

“Uh, close baby.” You whine.

“I know, baby. I’m here. I got ya.”

The timbre of his voice against your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You thought you’d want nothing more than some shut eye, but god were you wrong.

Logan makes his way back up towards you, still trying to catch your breath from the euphoria he caused you.

Having turned you on your side with your back tucked into his chest, he turns and whispers in your ear -

“Ready for round two?”

You simply nod your head in response.

“Words baby.” Logan commands, lightly grazing his fingers over your swollen bud.

“Yes.” You flop your head back against his shoulder.

You’re not sure when Logan lost his pants, but somehow along the way he stripped down bare. You hike your leg over to the side as he lines himself up with your entrance, giving him more room.

With a single thrust Logan is inside of you, filling you completely.

“Ugh, so tight, like you were made for me.” Logan groans into your ear before pulling out so he can thrust back into you.

“Uhh, Lo.” You moan quietly, still feeling the weight of sleepiness taking over you, however current activities are taking precedence in your mind and body.

You reach a hand up to grasp your clothed breast, squeezing to pleasure yourself further. You feel Logan’s much bigger hand land on top of yours, encouraging you while also being able to feel the love and adoration emit from him.

The two of you stay like that for a while. Logan thrusts in and out into you reaching new heights of bliss with each kiss of his tip against your cervix. Slowly you feel the tension in your lower belly start to grow, an all too familiar feeling returning. You free your hand between your breast and Logan’s hand to reach back and grab his buttock.

“Right there.” You praise Logan, wanting this feeling to last forever.

“Darlin’, you don’t know what you do to me.” He breathes out. You can feel he’s close from the way he’s twitching inside you.

“Keep going baby. Almost there.” You say. He reaches down and places a gentle hand on your clit, rubbing circles to bring you to your own orgasm.

You can feel his hot seed shoot inside of you as your legs begin to shudder from your own high. He places sloppy kisses to your neck as you reach a hand up to his hair and tug the slightest bit.

You stay like that while you both catch your breath. You tip your head back just enough to reach his lips and pull them against yours. You relish the closeness. As much as you saved Logan, you need him more than the air you breathe. Having felt like you were going through the motions before you met him.

You feel him start to pull out of you when you reach back and place your hand back on his behind.

“Wait. Can we stay like this? I wanna feel you while I sleep.” You tell him.

He grabs your hand off of his back side, wrapping his fingers with your own as he wraps his arm around your side, successfully spooning you.

“Anything for you darlin’.”