#swaddled. wrapped up. get those claws IN a towel.

[captainkingsley]

another post ear drops photo

[dollwritesarchive]

sᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴀʟ.

fandom dc / lanterns masterlist / @dollsdc-library

featuring hal jordan x reader ( f! )

rating sfw, but my blog is not meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog.

content warning it’s a bit suggestive, but that’s it! mostly just soft hal and snuggles

word count n.a / headcanons & concepts

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like. leave feedback if you enjoyed.

ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ.

when he’s home ( those very few, but very precious nights ), you can’t shower without him tagging along. he’s obsessed with squeezing in with you, running his fingers through your hair as he works the shampoo in, and kissing along your neck and shoulders when he rinses it. and he’s spoiled, too, because you do the same for him. you could spend hours massaging his scalp with your nails, because he wears a permanent, goofy grin, like a happy pup getting his nightly belly rubs.

once you’ve turned the water off, Hal jumps out of the shower and retrieves the towel, pulling you close to him so he can swaddle you in it. once it’s cinched at your chest, he’ll linger behind you, arms wrapped tight around your waist while you brush your teeth and wash your face, waiting patiently for his turn at the sink.

while he waits, he’ll busy himself by kissing your cheek, along your jaw, and over the shell of your ear, occasionally mumbling, “Have I told you that you’re beautiful today?” and, “I love you so much it’s crazy.”

when you’re ready to give up the mirror space, you grab a comb to run through your hair, and hop up on the space beside the sink while he starts his own routine of brushing and washing, but he can’t keep his eyes off you.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇᴀʀ.

finally, when bath time’s all done, Hal scoops you up into his arms and carries you into the bedroom.

you never opt for wearing the pajamas that you packed when you moved in with him, and prefer to raid his closet, instead.

old tee shirts always win, especially those that smell just like him, and your favorite boxers— a grey pair that are as soft as could be. he never wears them, anyways, so you’ve all but staked your claim.

Hal adores seeing you cozy in his clothes, believing that you’re the absolute sexiest in moments like these.

Hal simply sleeps in his underwear.

sʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴs.

you’ve realized just how incredibly protective Hal is once you started sleeping in the same bed as him. where that protection is born of the fear of letting anything happen to you, or if he’s just naturally clingy, you suppose it doesn’t matter.

while you might occasionally spoon with Hal, he actually prefers to wrap both arms around you when you’re nuzzled close to his chest in a bear hug. you hook your legs behind his knees and your face rests against his chest so the steady rise and fall coupled with the rhythm of his heart can lull you to sleep. he buries his face in your hair or against your neck, arms locked tight, and most of the time, he doesn’t allow you to move an inch away from him for the entire night.

every now and then, though, you’ll straddle him, knees dug into his sides when he’s lying on his back, with your arms around his neck. he likes to lock his fingers together and rest both hands on the small of your back when you’re like this, keeping you secure atop him.

if you have both, somehow, managed to move around in your sleep, Hal might be lying on his stomach with his head smushed into a pillow, but even in his sleep, he remembers to reach for you. with one arm, he’ll have you pulled to him, safely tucked under his body heat.

ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ.

you’re always first to wake up, and most of the time it’s because you have to claw your way out from under his weight to be able to breathe again.

Hal only wakes up when you wake him up ( preferably with kisses and your adorable, sleepy voice ).

“Aw, you’re already up? I was gonna get you breakfast in bed.”

Hal absolutely will not let you get ready for work in peace, pulling you back down on the bed when you try to get up, and then insisting that you should “Just call in.” so he can spend more time with you.

“Oh yeah? What’s in it for me if I do?”

to which Hal scoffs, pulling you in for a fierce kiss and to murmur against your lips, “I know exactly how to make it worth your while, pretty girl.”

[cyberaxolotl]

cuddling headcanons part AGAIN this time with more details now in order of whatever i felt like

this is chronically self indulgent

Beffloofty (wow)

Like I said last time, they’re both plus sized and can’t fit in either of their average twin beds together, so I made the statement of them cuddling mostly while sitting. I am stupid and I need to put a scene in your head.

Take these two bitches. And take the way I interpret them (a raccoon and a bunny who are both plus size) and then cover them in sand. Raccoons and bunnies sunbathe (raccoons are nocturnal and do it in treetops during the day while they sleep.) These bitches sunbathe together on a big ass towel. How did I not think of this before.

Also Beffica’s got those fucky little raccoon hand claws that give her a more scratchy touch. Give your partner a back scratch while you’re sunbathing. Hit ‘em behind the floppy ol bunny ears. Let both of you be sensitive with each other since you’re both so secluded compared to everyone else.

Lizegg

Again a ship with one of those plus sized bitches, this time being Eggabell (a round ol chinchilla) and Lizbert (a muscular, somewhat bulky walrus.) Now I need you to envision chinchilla Eggabell and I need you to realize how fuCKING FLUFFY THOSE THINGS ARE.

All i’m saying is that the fluff is plentiful. I need Lizbert to come up behind her wife like “hehe im gonna spoon my wife >:)” only to suffocate in all that fluff. Eggabell is a mass of both just generally being fat and also being bountifully fluffy.

Aaaand Liz uses her like a pillow. Wrap your arms around your Egg, get your head in the crook of her neck, and relax. She’ll hold her back and be happy hearing Liz just… purr and relax. Liz’s hold is also incredibly strong, very firm, very nice. I love these two

Snorplo

For this interpretation, Snorpy is a skinny-fat bunny, and Chandlo is a bulkily muscular walrus. By skinny-fat, I mean he’s mostly lanky, but he’s got a bit of a belly with it too for lack of better phrasing.

Now let me tell you as someone with a skinny-fat-ish body myself that being squeezed and pinched a little is honestly really comforting. I need Chandlo to do that while simultaneously doing the Walrus Grump trademark of putting his face in all that goddamn collar fluff and havin a nibble. Thanks

Wigglefunny

Okay hello. Tall, skinny, very fluffy big-chested ferret. Small, plump, scoopable mouse. She is so able to just surround him. Lean down to that man when he’s having one of the harder times, stroke his cheeks a few times, calm him down. Scoop him up, take him upstairs, there’s no blanket. Be the blanket. You are 7’7” and have no reason not to just swaddle this man.

Hold him close and hold him tight. Make him feel secure. For a while, she feels like she has someone there who trusts her wholeheartedly, who trusts her to be there and hold him. She trusts him too. She knows no matter what, he’ll support her. She holds him closer. Nothing comes between them.

Eventually grab a blanket. Her breast fluff may be plentiful but he is a mouse and those things aren’t exactly known for fur.

Filbuddy (or in my case, Filscarla)

Filbo, deer guy. Square body type, kinda scrawny, and antlers that make it impossible for him to sleep on his side. Scarla, black furred horned person. Inverted triangle body type, a little muscular, and horns that face forward and either block out the sun or send it right into their eyes.

These two cuddling is absolutely hilarious because no matter what they do they’re gonna get into a horn lock. Somehow, in some position, Scarla will get their horns stuck in the branches of Filbo’s antlers and it can’t be prevented. Think of this. A tender moment. Filbo’s been having nightmares recently because he just does and Scarla’s there to support him.

They’re stroking the side of his body, near his hip. Like most deer, he’s got a little scut, and it’s doing a happy dance because they’re here with him. They lean their head closer to his, humming, smiling. Filbo smiles too, he feels… safe.

They try to pull away because their thick fur is overheating. Filbo screams because his antlers just got rugged on. Insert the next two minutes being spent escaping a horn lock and then sleeping facing away from each other.

Lottaham

Bull with side facing horns and raptor with nothing but fluff and feathers everywhere. Both have more square body types, with Triffany leaning towards a pear, but that becomes hard to distinguish because her legs are digitigrade. She’s also got a long fuckin tail and that is important.

Wambus is generally always the big spoon, that’s the easiest way when the height difference is 7’9” on 6’8”. But that ain’t gonna stop Triffany from being a goddamn hoot, she is gonna put her tail behind them and hold him closer, kinda just. keep him there. there is no escaping your pseudo-reptilian-bird-ish wife, especially not when she’s had a rough day.

Accept it. Put those hands around her, squeeze that little bit of fat that people have between their hips and the bottom of their abdomen that i can’t remember the name of right now, and enjoy the night. You are cuddling so fucking well.

it is literally three in the fucking morning why is it always 3am when i make cuddle posts. GOODNIGHT

[shona22]

What are the paw-sibilities?

(part 1 of mini series)

Tony is ex-mafia, or well, somewhat. He still has the connections but after his fiancee's death he couldn't stand to look at a gun anymore. He grew up with butterfly knives under his pillow, his father’s cigar and blood on the porch. Pepper was different–she was breeze compared to Tony’s typhoon and her hands had soothed the scars on the chest when nobody had dared to look twice at him. She was brave, beautiful and so so much bigger than the life Tony could give her.

On the first anniversary of Pepper's death he spent the day drinking in front of her grave–he had bought flowers for sure, but the details were missing (didn’t she say she hated dandelions?)–till some punk kids in clown clothes started heavily making out two tombstones away. He grumbled and fumbled but made his way out on the cold October street, noting somberly that the sun had set hours back.

He stumbled towards his apartment, head not cleared from all those drinks. Nearing the alley adjacent to his apartment, Tony stopped momentarily and blinked. He heard a distressed call, a keen sound that wasn't entirely human. Sobering up quickly Tony looked around the dark alley. The sound Increased in volume and then–

"A kitty," Tony said to himself as he picked up the malnourished feline from a wet cardboard box. The kitten mewled helplessly, its earthy eyes shone under the fluorescent overhead light, blinking in tandem with Tony. It was a white tabby. "Who left you here all by yourself?"

The kitten mewled again, tiny claws clinging onto Tony's coat. Tony ran a deeply calloused finger through its nape, checking the temperature and noting the coldness. "Shit, I have to take you home-- Rodney, I need to call my platypus. He would know what to do,"

The bout of drunkenness had left the man's body as he quickly stomped towards the elevator, cradling a sleepy kit very close to his chest. Once inside (with difficulty, the kitten refused to be let down) his apartment he ran straight to his bedroom, Tony quickly picked a towel and wrapped it around the shivering animal, putting it down on his unmade bed. Now he had a call to make.

He turned around to find his phone only to realise he probably discarded it around the living room couch, with a sigh he eyed the kitty. "Stay here, baby. I'll be back."

Getting a hold of his phone, he walked back into the bedroom, scratching his neck in consideration. "Rodhey is my best bet right now--"

The kitten was gone.

No, no. Wait.

What?

"What the fuck did I drink today?"

There was no cat on his bed. The animal he left behind swaddled into a warm towel had disappeared, or more like, morphed into a human being. A very human child.

"What the fuck?"

[woolspun]

          blind faith,           heartache,           mind games--           mistakes.

     etsu doesn’t do interviews much-- and for several different reasons.      the most blatant ones included that while YES, she was a hero, she wasn’t exactly the highest with the billboard rankings... then her horribly busy ( and equally unpredictable ) schedule that had her ALL OVER the place. popularity and accessibility, those were the main two.      then there were issues with uncomfortable topics. interviewers ALWAYS wanting to pry into her private life. questions regarding her relationships-- both romantic and familial. the last interview etsu had agreed to led to an uncomfortable discussion regarding her and her sister’s relationship, how the public never saw the two of them together, ever.      it was hard to willingly be around someone who replaced you.  or at least that was how etsu felt about the whole thing.       not that the ram had said such a thing, oh no, she’d lied perfectly through her teeth ! something something.. anzu is a busy girl with her own aspirations of becoming a hero, and their schedules really just didn’t MESH. a smooth fib, and one that the journalist had been pleased with seeing as they’d dropped it rather quickly.       currently, etsu sits within her bathtub after a particularly ROUGH interview, the questions increasingly becoming more and more personal, some of which she didn’t mind answering ! the one about taro ( her beloved cat ) had made her smile and long to feel the feline’s fluffy fur beneath her fingers-- and had also been enough for the redhead to pull her phone forth and show some photos off.      again, anzu had been brought up. etsu’s lie hadn’t been as well-received as last time, the asker pushing to know why no aid was offered to the younger in her quest on becoming a hero. again, schedules were difficult to match up. etsu had been working through the nights and anzu was still a student that needed her rest, simple as that. a few more pushes were made but the hero held her ground to make it clear that was all she was willing to discuss when it came to her sister.      the water isn’t hot like it had originally been, the temperature having chilled significantly to a distasteful... lukewarm. ugh. etsu’s fingers were starting to feel all gross and prune-like, too... yet she can’t bring herself to lift herself from the soothing embrace of porcelain walls and water. has the ram even wiped off the makeup they’d insisted on dolling her up with ? eurgh, it’d been just-- so much, TOO much. caked on thickly, making her skin feel as if it had been suffocating.      at least the questions relating to rumors of her romantic relations were distracting enough. a sly eye raise paired with the ever-common ‘ we’ve heard rumors that you’ve been seeing-- blah blah blah ‘. always some random hero who’d never bother looking her way, or shouldn’t, given the age gap or whatever. the media was so strange. it gave her the chance to play games with them, so at least tough fluff got a LITTLE enjoyment out of the interview. it’d been awhile since etsu had last toyed with them in such a way, so for a moment she’s briefly thrown off before rolling along with it. she paints a bashful picture, cheeks reddening whilst those honeyed eyes flick off to the side-- and her hands, they fold together in a way that her fingers keep fiddling. what had she told them again ? ah, right. a steady nod, her gaze still locked elsewhere.      ranunculus. symbolism: dazzling, charming. only so many heroes ( ahem, SEVERAL if not MOST ) could be described in such a way. it was enough for them to think they got a scoop, and even if her face was plastered all over the internet and magazines tomorrow... well, that was an issue for tomorrow.      ah, her face.      etsu’s hands scrub furiously at her face, the nearby washrag kept for just the job being snatched up and dragged harshly over and over her skin till it felt raw.       just as raw as her emotions were, etsu’s feelings shifting about like an overfilled cup whose contents sloshed over the sides.      liam campbell. her father. ever a HOT topic.      questions relating to him were always in good nature, though-- asking if she owned any merchandise ( yes, of course, always pre-ordered from canadian sites or sent from the man himself ), how often they talked ( daily through texts, at least weekly via phone call ). innocent questions, harmless ones that left her with a warm and fuzzy feeling within.      one of the final questions though, it left her REELING.      ‘ how does it feel that when compared to your father’s successes in canada, you’ve done little-to-nothing at all, miss tough fluff ? ‘      essentially, they’d gone and called her a failure.       which wasn’t fair. they couldn’t go and just-- just COMPARE her to him-- the reindeer hero: blitzen... the number four hero of canada.      number four, when compared to her own rank, well it seemed like it was light years away.      her chest feels tight. too tight. like someone went and wrapped her in duct tape-- or like a massive snake was winding itself around her torso. there’s a choked noise afterwards, a weakly-muffled sob that manages to claw its way from her chest. dammit.       etsu had long-since accepted that she’d never stand on the same platform as her parent did... but having someone, a stranger nonetheless, take that and throw it in her face ? it hurt too much to bear.      did ... did he think she was a failure ? no, no. her father hadn’t gone and done what her mother did-- essentially create a clone that she could raise HER way. the RIGHT way. it was only a matter of time before chikara took anzu’s drive to be a hero and directed it elsewhere. essentially turn her off from the career path. dammit, dammit ! she should’ve taken the younger under her metaphorical wing, protected her.       DONE MORE.      why did she always end up crying her eyes out in the bathtub ? she’s too tired for this, that interview and all those horrid questions sucking the literal life out of the woman’s body. after so long, etsu forces herself to drain the water and stand, a towel roughly dragging itself across first her hair, then her body. the motion repeats itself several times over, etsu no longer able to tell if her cheeks are red and numb from the crying or from the rough material rubbing at her skin.      how embarrassing.      other heroes were put through much worse, and on LIVE TELEVISION, yet etsu’s so certain that they don’t-- that they don’t turn tail and flee after.       she yanks an oversized hoodie over her head, but not before clean underwear had been pulled up her thighs. there. acceptable enough. her couch is calling to her, but etsu isn’t quite as tired as she initially thought. maybe.. maybe she could text rumi and see if there was still a spot for her at that ladies’ night thing ? no, no, mixing her ( volatile ) emotions with alcohol would end poorly. staying in would be for the best.      a petite hand grasps her switch from its dock, the screen popping to life. ignoring it, she makes her way to her spot and flops down upon it. the hero has to swaddle herself in her usual blankets before she finally opens her game. animal crossing. yes, this would be a good way to relax. catch some fish, some bugs, find some new fossils.      it’s a shame that her eyes slip shut before she even gets a chance to play, sleep overcoming her form now that she was finally bundled up and in her favorite spot.

[zarcake-writes]

Little Man

So this is what I’m reading today to my creative writing class. And I figured I’ll share it with you all. Hope you enjoy.

Rhea’s sleep was interrupted by the cries of a baby and the feeling of a wet tongue in her face. She jolted away from the tongue and sat up, sending the dog an annoyed looked. The dog let out a soft whimper and turned towards the bassinet located a few feet away from Rhea’s own bed. The dog rested his head on the edge of the bed and peered down at the crying baby.

The small, one-roomed cabin was dimly lit by the dying fire in the hearth. The world outside was dark and silent. The baby didn’t seem to care what time it was, his cries just seemed to grow louder. His small hands could be seen over the edge of the bassinet; small hands curled into angry little fists. The dog began to grow more impatient, running to Rhea then back to the bassinet.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Rhea said.

Walking to the bassinet, she examined the crying baby. His skin was a grayish-blue. His black hair was soft and stood up. The way his tail thrashed around reminded Rhea of a grumpy cat. His blue eyes were filled with tears, and his bottom lip was pushed out in a pout. His brow was furrowed as if he had a reason to be angry at the world. His clawed feet had ripped through the blanket Rhea had patiently wrapped around his body.

“Sweetie, you got to stop ripping the blankets.” Carefully, Rhea unwrapped the blanket from around him and his feet. He let out a small kick and continued crying. “What’s got you so upset now? You need to be cleaned up? You sure smell like you need a cleaning.”

Rhea laid the baby down on a blanket and began cleaning him. When she finished, he seemed to have calmed down a bit. But he still whimpered, his brow was still furrowed, and his tail still twitched in irritation. There was a pitiful look in his eyes that made Rhea’s heartache.

“You hungry, little man?” she asked. As if to answer her, he began to cry again.

Rhea ignored his cries for the time and began preparing his milk. She wasn’t producing any milk, but the midwife in town told her how to make a substitute for breast milk; goat milk, mixed with boiling water, and some sugar.

Rhea yawned as she prepared the baby’s milk and thought about what her life now was. She never thought she would have adopted an orphaned Tiefling baby or make a special formula for him in the middle of the night while her dog watched from the sidelines. If someone told her she would be buying swaddling blankets for a baby, only to have him rip them apart, she would have laughed. Oh, and cannot forget the never-ending mess that comes out of both ends of the baby. But the part that really got to Rhea was the damn goat outside. Stupid thing would constantly try to headbutt her- it was successful once and Rhea still has the bruise on her head.

Looking out the window in her kitchen, Rhea viewed the forest that surrounded her small cabin. The moonlight filtered through the trees, only to be swallowed up when a cloud passed in front of the moon. The disappearing light added to the unsettling feeling of the darkened forest. Shadows seemed to grow in size as the moonlight vanished. Rhea could imagine those shadows being monsters or demons come to harm her and the baby. But it was just a trick of the light. The only monsters Rhea had to worry about were the narrow-minded people who lived in town. The ones who told her to kill the Tiefling baby.

The dog let out a small, anxious bark that got Rhea’s attention. The baby was still crying, and the cup of milk in her hand was ready to be served.  

“Alright, my little man, let’s get you fed. Then we can get back to sleep,” Rhea said. The baby only replied by crying louder.

She scooped him up and sat beside the dying fire. Sitting him upright, she placed a rag beneath his chin, while the edge of the cup rested on his bottom lip. Rhea tilted the cup just enough for him to sip the formula. She watched carefully as he began to drink the milk; his little hands grasped her thumb and forefinger.

“There you go. That’s my big boy,” she said in a soft voice. Rhea’s dog sat next to her and watched.  

The small house descended into silence. The only things Rhea could hear were the soft thumping of her dog’s tail against the floor, and the baby making gross noises as he ate. The quiet gave her time to reflect on how she found the baby.

It had been a normal day for Rhea when she found the baby and his parents. A normal day of checking her rabbit traps, gathering mushrooms, and other edible plants. It was her dog that caught the scent. His hackles rose and low growl alerted her that something was wrong.

He led her to a horrible scene. A male Tiefling lay dead on his side in a small clearing. The puddle of dried blood around his body made it clear he had been killed within the last day. The animals hadn’t even started picking him apart yet.

Rhea approached his body carefully. Her dog was sniffing around, his hackles still raised. The brutality inflicted upon the body made it clear he did not die in a quick or natural fashion. His red skin was covered in dried blood, and what looked like burns. His horns and tail were gone, upon further examination, she discovered they were not removed in a clean manner. The horns were hacked off, and the tail looked like it had sawed off. The blood around the base of his tail told her it had been removed when he was still alive.

There were broken arrows in his shoulder and legs like his hunters made a game of killing him. Rhea couldn’t count the numerous deep stab marks to his torso, and long slash marks to his legs. His feet, which were reptilian-like, were damaged in a way that Rhea believed he had been tortured.

“Fucking animals,” she hissed. She fought back the bile that rose in her throat and turned away from the body.

Rhea examined the ground around the dead body. So many footprints made it difficult for her to tell how many attackers there were. But a trail of blood caught her attention. She followed it to the edge of the clearing, her dog was already sniffing at the trail. The hope that this person got away was squashed when she saw footsteps following the blood.

Rhea glanced back at the dead body and saw he had been looking in this direction when he died. A horrible feeling settled in her stomach. Whoever was at the end of this trail was most likely dead, that much she knew. But she had to be sure.

She followed the trail deep into the woods. Whoever was running was smart. Their trail went in circles at times or it would loop back around. Some points it would cross back over a trail Rhea had already seen. At one point she lost it completely- her dog was the one who found it. The small puddle of blood at the base of the tree made Rhea’s stomach twist.

It was about that time she heard it. A faint crying. Her dog’s ear pricked up and he bolted in the direction of the cries. Rhea ran after him, hoping it wasn’t a trap. The cries turned into screams the closer Rhea got to the source. When she finally caught up to her dog, the baby’s screams were full of despair. Her dog was standing against a tree, looking up to the branches. He was letting out a low chuff and whimpering.

Up in the tree, in a bear bag, was the baby. No one had found the baby, not the hunters or any animals. Rhea quickly undid the rope that was tied to the bag and lowered the bundle. The screaming baby grew frantic at the feeling of the bag moving. His screams sent chills down Rhea’s body and made her hands shake. Is this what the male Tiefling was protecting? Who tied it up here?

When the bundle was safely on the ground, Rhea shooed her dog away. She opened the bag and found him inside. A small Tiefling baby, about six months old, with gray-blue skin and soft black hair. There was a splatter of blood on his shirt, and a blood smear on his cheek. Pulling him against her chest, Rhea did her best to calm him.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” she whispered.

Turning to her dog, Rhea saw he had found the blood trail again. Swallowing thickly, she followed this trail. Whoever was at the end of the trail ensured no one would find the baby. Rhea can only imagine what the person was thinking at that time. Allow the baby to fall into the hands of their pursuers or try to lose them and come back for the baby. Rhea wasn’t sure what she would have done in their place.

The trail continued looping around, but eventually, it came to a sudden end. At the end of the blood trail, she found who she assumed was his mother. She was in worse condition than the male Tiefling. What the hunters did to the female Tiefling made Rhea angry and sick. The blood that covered the body made it hard to tell her skin was the same grayish blue as the baby. Her horns had been hacked off, leaving her white hair matted with blood. Her tail was gone as well, removed in a similar fashion as the male Tiefling. She had put up a fight, just like the male Tiefling.

The baby made a noise that brought Rhea out of her memory. He had drunk all the milk in the cup and was upset that the cup was still in front of him. Setting down the empty cup, she wiped his face clean and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Oh, that’s a good boy. Eating all your food. Look at your tummy! It’s full of milk.” Laying a towel over her shoulder, she placed him against her chest and began patting his back.

She patted his back for about twenty minutes. Each burp made her laugh, and he even seemed to be amused by his own bodily noises.

“Little man, Ana is coming over tomorrow. She’s gonna watch you for a bit while I’m out grabbing food. I would take you with me, but you’ll scare away everything. When you’re older, I’ll take you out.” Rhea stood up and removed the dirty towel from her shoulder. The baby yawned and gave Rhea an exhausted look. His eyes were heavy, and he seemed eager to be back in his bassinet.

By the time Rhea reached the bassinet, the baby was already asleep. She laid him down gently and watched him. His small chest rose and fell with each breath. His toes and the tip of his tail twitched as he slept. His little hands were down at his sides, but by the morning they would be thrown up near his head.

“Sweet dreams, little man.”