#and they're swaddled in body bags

[soryualeksi]

-

[misspanicdead]

Steve and eddie are the kind of couple that would just forget to name their cat.

They find her late one night when they're leaving Uncle Wayne's, a tiny little ball curled up under the steps of the trailer, shivering from the rain. She's letting out these pathetic little mews, and they just about die on the spot.

Eddie takes off his jacket and crawls under the steps, coaxing the kitten to him so he can swaddle her in the leather. She's in bad shape, clearly hasn't eaten in awhile, black fur matted, and she's missing an ear. Steve drives them straight to the vet and it's the worst driving eddie has ever experienced from steve in his haste (notwithstanding the time they stole the rv).

Obviously, they're not going to think of names while waiting in the vet lobby- they're not stupid, they know the chances and what might happen. But she miraculously pulls through, and after a two day observation she's cleared to go home with steve and eddie.

It starts innocently enough. They call her Baby for a few days, which morphs into Sweetheart, which turns into Darling Doll, and somehow ends on Hot Tamale. She gets christened with Little Monster when steve comes home from work asking "how's the little monster today?"

And it's not just them. Robin, the kids, everyone who steps foot in their house contributes a name to the kitten.

They go through Whiskers, Soupbox, Sabbath, and Lefty all over the span of Thanksgiving break.

Her longest running name is Cornchip after Eddie came home and found her eating directly from his fritos, half her little body wiggling around inside the bag. The second longest is Uptown Girl, their baby crawling into their laps on the couch while eddie was serenading steve.

Remarkably, Tickleboy lasts awhile too, and while no one remembers who started it they're pretty sure it was one of the kids. (It was Max. She'd asked Eddie what the kitten's name was and he'd responded with "whatever you want it to be, red." What else was she supposed to do?)

As for the kitten, she has no idea what her name is. She has at least three at any given time and hundreds more waiting in the vault. What she does know is the sickeningly sweet tone her dads use when they're talking about her. And she always comes running.

[doodle-pops]

Lords of Gondolin | With A Short S/O

Request: Beautiful blog! Absolute perfection! Never let anyone tell you otherwise!! So... can I please request either the Feanorians or Lords of Gondolin with a short!reader... please? - anon

A/N: Many thanks nonnie. I pictured these elves as the usual 7ft - 8ft because they're from Valinor, thus, super tall. Enjoy!!

Galdor

Elves are already tall beings by nature and mortals are already shorter by nature as well, but then there’s you – a different breed of short, and it makes Galdor’s eyes soften and his heart flutter when he sees your smaller frame running to meet him.

Your short legs struggle to keep up the pace just to cover the distance so you can launch yourself into his larger arms and have him swaddle you.

Sometimes, he’d walk into your chambers and watch from the doorway as you struggle to reach a book on your bookshelf. It’s the little jump you do with no success because your feet barely lift off the ground that makes him want to squeal at the adorableness.

He’s not the type to hold things over your head to tease you about your height, but at times, he’ll place little objects in too high to reach places just to watch you jump before asking him for assistance.

It’s one of two things, either he lifts you up, and being the gentleman he is Galdor would hold you by your knees and elevate your body to reach the object. Or he would stand behind you just to compare the cuteness in the height difference as he gives you the object.

Cuddling with Galdor is bliss because he’s so much larger that he would pass for a body pillow or giant plushie. He’s soft and warm so he makes perfect for sleeping already and you tend to cling to him like a koala.

Because of your height advantage, you make use of the opportunity and play hide and seek while running off to hide in the furniture because they were made for giant-sized elves. He has admitted that it was difficult to find you one time.

Ecthelion

Ecthelion would have mistaken you for a toddler had you not confessed your age and revealed that you were a mortal and adult and not a child. You probably reached his diaphragm or lower.

He would hide his smirks behind his hands or his wine glass as he looks on at your tiny form climbing into one of the chairs made for elves and your legs dangling off the ground by a foot.

All the furniture is larger than you, even walking up the ladder in the library felt like going up a staircase. Ecthelion had to go through a process of having certain furniture made to suit your height.

It’s easier for him to pick you up and carry you around because he just needs to use one hand and wrap it around your waist and he’s carrying you like a pillow.

He does have to constantly tell people that he’s not courting a child because of the strange looks that people give him whenever they notice you both in public. Someone had once mistaken you for his child and congratulated him while you clung to his side acting like his child.

Whenever you two are holding hands, his two fingers are encased by your entire hand and despite knowing this, you love to compare hand sizes. His hand covered your entire face.

He does get worried about losing you in the crowds at parties and festivals, it’s impossible for him to spot your head.

Glorfindel

“Are you such you’re not a dwarf my love, you do look like –” those were the last words spoken by Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower as you climbed his larger body in an attempt to stifle him with his pillow.

You’re the little bag pack that clings to him when mornings come and you refuse to let him roll out of bed, he’ll get out with your arms and legs wrapped around his body and walk around the room like it’s nothing. Or sometimes cling to his legs.

Unlike our loveable Galdor, Glorfindel purposefully puts objects in high places to watch you struggle and jump. The laughter that escapes him as he clutches his stomach watching you jump and not come off the ground is ridiculous.

If he knew what penguins looked like, then he would compare you to one, but for now, he calls you his little duckling because you waddle like one when you walk.

He loves to see you in his clothes. His shirt doesn’t even stay on your shoulders, the material just slips right off and pools at your feet.

This gives him the opportunity to spoil you with tons of clothes that are made just for you. As a running streak between you both, he once gifted you a bib because someone thought you were a young elfling.

Cuddling with him is a mess because he doesn’t like to let you go, you’re his personal stuff toy. He can’t wrap his legs around you but if you give him a chance, Glorfindel would attempt to.

Egalmoth

I don’t know who’s worse, him or Glorfindel. Egalmoth is a menace when it comes to your height and uses every opportunity provided to remind you of how short and cute you are.

You’re his little fairy who he loves to shower in jewels just to see you sparkle and glow. Egalmoth makes no expenses in spoiling you now that you’re super short and tiny.

He gets a kick out of surprising you with miniature items or furniture from around the house. For example, his wine glasses are like bowls for you so he’d get a tea set that elven children would play with and gift it to you to drink and eat in.

Loves to randomly pick you up and place you on his shoulders or walk around with you in his arms like a pillow. He loves to throw you into the air like you would with a child and catch you.

One night as you were sleeping over, you were putting on a performance for him and re-enacting him in battle. When you reached for his sword, you and the weapon toppled over as you attempted to lift it. Egalmoth never forgets that moment and brings it up any chance he gets.

Whenever someone asks if you’re a child, Egalmoth would stroll behind you and rest his hand on your head and look the person dead in the eyes and tell them yes. To make matters worse, he’ll stick his hand out and call out to you ‘come little one’.

Being shorter than him just means that Egalmoth has a righter way of spoiling you and cuddling you to death. He just loves his short lover and can’t help but pinch your cheeks.

Rog

Rog is already a giant compared to the rest of the elves on this list, you’re definitely a dwarf when you stand beside him and he’s going to question it as well. However, Rog is more respectful with his approach and not like Glorfindel.

Rog is going to be staring at your tiny figure walking under his arm as he holds open doors for you or marvels at how you clamber onto chairs when he pulls them out for you to sit.

If you were to spend the night and bathe in his bathtub, you once commented on the fact that you could swim in it.

He doesn’t tease you the way the others do and leans more toward acting like Galdor when dealing with your height. He’ll reach for objects on higher shelves or lift you up gracefully. Though, he does get a kick out of watching you climb or jump for the desired object.

He does invest in building ladders and stools made for your height, so you don’t have to struggle to climb or jump. Not all the time he’s there to assist so he’d like to have helpers lying around, easy to use.

Very careful with his strength because he doesn’t want to accidentally crush you. He’s extremely cautious whenever you ask him to rest his head on your lap because to him, his head is heavy compared to your size.

You love to compare hand sizes with Rog. Since he’s a blacksmith, his hands are huge, and your hand barely fits in his palm. When you have to hold hands with him, he’d give you his fingers to hold because your entire hand wraps around them.

Maeglin

You were the first human Maeglin had ever seen, and he was sure from the description he received on them that they didn’t appear this short. Were you a child or perhaps an elfling?

Maeglin’s gonna be shocked to learn that it’s your actual height and you’re a fully grown adult, not an elfling or dwarf.

There’s this little smile that graces his face whenever he observes you running over to meet him or watching around the room full of giant-sized furniture. He hides his smile from you because he doesn’t want to tease and anger you.

He’s seen how displeased you become when people mistake you for a child and he tends to swoop in to the rescue before you throw hands at the elf for calling you a child.

Maeglin adores sleeping with you because you literally sleep on his chest and he feels nothing, your weight is non-existent. You cling to him as if he’s a body pillow or stuffed teddy bear. His muscles make for excellent pillows.

Another elf who marvels at your figure as you pass under him whenever he opens doors for you. Your little figure is just waddling around aimlessly among the giant crowd. He had to stop himself from fawning over you.

He uses your shortness and cuteness as an excuse to spoil you even further, implying that you are deserving of being spoiled regardless of what you looked like, but he just wanted to make tons of miniature trinkets for you.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @someoneinthestars @aconstructofamind @mysticmoomin @lilmelily @hoshinokurasa

[fallen-child-escapism]

Can you get 2 me?

Chapter 2

Dib groaned as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Being a sophmore in College was going smoothly. Very smoothly. Hes bored, to put it blunt. He shuts the laptop and stands, stretching and popping his joints before climbing into bed. When he rolled over he heard a knock. "Who the hell-" he tumbles out of bed again and opens the door, eyes dropping lower when he doesn't see anyone.

"Zim? Dude what are you doing here", Dib leans out the doorway and looks down either direction of the hallway," get in here,man". Dib locks the door behind them. "Okay Zim what's going on. You couldn't call before showing up at my fucking house?" Zim and Dib caught eyes for the first time that night. Dib sighed and sat on his bed. "Dude...you look like shit" Zim's eyes watered and held his backpack to his chest. "w-wait wait hold on! Shit- ", Dib panics the second Zim loses his composure. He slips down to Zim's level and holds onto his arms," Zim calm down please, what happened" Zim choked on his words and hung his head low, unzipping the bag and pulling the bundle out. Dib hesitates but takes the swaddle and shifts through the folds until he finds the metal body of Gir. "What...happened to him?" Zim gritted his sharp teeth," The Tallest disconnected. He's Offline. There's nothing I can do to bring him back" more tears fall from Zim's large Magenta eyes. Dibs eyes widen. This is real. For a moment he considers this is a ploy, another scheme to take over the world by the malicious green alien. But Zim's disheveled appearance, the fact he's standing in front of him crying his heart out. There's no way this isn't real,"do you uh, want a hug?". Zim nodded. Dib pulls him into his arms and Zim shoves his face into Dib's chest, getting his shirt wet. "Dib?", Zim squeaks,"I don't want to stay..at my base. I don't know where to go" The realization settled in on Dib, "I mean...you can stay here, if you want?" Zim looked up into his eyes, "please?", He begged. Dib's heart broke. "yeah...yeah man, you can stay as long as you need okay?"

Gir's body gets wrapped back up and placed back into the bag. Zim hides the bag in the closet. "What happened to your clothes man?", Dib asked, finally getting a look at Zim's appearance. Zim winced," I uh, I ripped them up. I don't have any other clothes, besides this jacket I mean...But I no longer want to bare my Irken uniform" Dib hangs Zim's jacket up and nods, not prying. "Here, you can put these on. they're clean, you can change in here" Dib hands Zim a T-shirt and boxers and leads Zim to the bsthroom. Zim nods and takes the clothes, letting Dib shut the door behind him.

Dib was standing in the kitchenette area of the studio apartment when Zim exited the bathroom. He stood behind Dib and the tall man jumped when he turned around. "Jesus Christ Zim! Don't sneak up on me like that". One of the alien's antenna flattened against his head," er, sorry" Dib was once again caught off guard by the shorter's attitude. "Yeah, uh, here", He handed Zim a small mug of hot chocolate. "I made sure it's not too hot so you wouldn't get mad" Zim looked into the mug and said "thanks"

It was now about 3am. Zim had finished his drink and still hasn't spoken much. How much of his personality change was new found maturity over the past two years or the fresh pain of Gir's disconnection. The green one's eyes drooped. Dib could've sworn Irkens didn't need to sleep. Maybe he was just shutting down because of the mental exhaustion? Either way, the sight reminded Dib he needed to get to bed. "You wanna go to bed?", He sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at Zim. Zim kept his head down but nodded slightly. Did sighed and picked him up and laying him on the bed. "Get comfy. Wake me up if you need anything okay?" ,Dib rolled over after Zim settled down.

Zim watched the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling as he gripped onto a black moth like plushie. He didn't want to give into sleep. But his eyes were heavy and dry. And his spot next to Dib felt surprisingly safe and warm. He quickly found himself slipping into sleep mode.

[altocat]

I would love to hear some more of your Sephiroth head canons if you would like to share

The tranquilizer one made my heart break lol

You can't go wrong with some random Sephcanons! So here you go.

Sephiroth really enjoys sunbathing, which you would never expect since he's porcelain-pale. But he would happily nap in the sun all day if he could.

Sephiroth doesn't like animatronics. Specifically of the silly mascot variety. He finds them deeply disturbing and isn't really sure why.

Sephiroth has VERY sharp teeth. He brushes and flosses diligently every day like a good boy and freaks out when he can't.

Sephiroth's lifespan is so critically extended thanks to the implanted Jenova cells that, had things not gone south and he remained of sound mind and body, he would have easily outlived the very existence of Shinra, if not Midgar itself.

Sephiroth is often chronically depressed, but rather than go to therapy he mostly just goes on long missions by himself. He kills a LOT of people during said missions, but doesn't really seem to process much around him. Everything is just static and white noise to him. Angeal and Genesis are very concerned.

Sephiroth once had to deal with some irresponsible Shinra employee bringing their toddler to work and then dumping it off to run rampant around the office. While Sephiroth did his best to avoid the little ankle-biter, it seemed to target him specifically, climbing over him like a jungle gym.

While Sephiroth himself doesn't want kids, he's rather fascinated with babies. Not holding them or playing with them or anything, but merely observing maternal affection around them. Big oof.

Sephiroth doesn't like his food touching. At all. It took several sessions of rigid conditioning and etiquette training to get him to stop moving shit around on his plate during public dinner events. And even then, Sephiroth still does it when no one's looking.

Sephiroth's total kill count is a mystery. He himself isn't really sure. He doesn't take pride in it, though he doesn't really think about it either. It's just part of the world he lives in.

Sephiroth does not enjoy pool parties of any variety. Not because he has to wear a swimsuit or anything but because of all the guys around him wearing swimsuits.

As a child, Sephiroth wanted to be either a Professor like Gast or part of the Shinra Space program.

Sephiroth's alcoholic drink of choice is whiskey. His regular drink of choice is black coffee, which he drinks at least seven times a day, regardless of temperature.

Sephiroth likes bundling up in blankets, suspiciously in full swaddling position.

Angeal sometimes makes bagged lunches for Seph for missions when they're not together.

Sephiroth likes his desk aligned. Everything is organized and positioned accordingly. He will get pissy if you mess up his desk (which Genesis is happy to do at any given moment).

Speaking of Genesis, when they aren't fighting or killing each other, he and Sephiroth have many special private jokes between them, occasionally at Angeal's expense. Genesis is one of the few people who can be a terrible influence of Seph.

Their favorite instance was shaving Angeal's beard off while he was napping and snickering together while all the cadets gaped at him.

Sephiroth really does love Angeal and Genesis. He doesn't ever say it out loud. But he views them as family and treasures them dearly. He would have died for them, or killed for them. They were his most prized connections and meant more to him than almost anything he's ever known. With the right amount of nudging instead of radio silence, he might have gone with them.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

hello there! how do you think Hakoda/Ursa could've happened post S3 in an alternate 'verse?

Hey there!

Perhaps it could have, but i like it best as something that happened in passing in an alternate universe.

Specifically, when the Fire Nation attacked a village fairly close to one they've already sacked and burned. Ursa is trying to protect her friends and neighbors she's come to know and love in her years of banishment, pointing them to the towns that will accept them as they flee with what they can carry on their backs. She hurts her arm rescuing a seamstress's baby from her burning house, but doesn't realize. Soldiers catch sight of her and one persues her, mistaking the swaddled baby for a bundle of something valuable, but he's struck down by a... Water Tribe Man?

That's right, travellers have said that they joined the war effort.

She delivers the baby to the seamstress waiting for her some ways into the treeline. She leaves blood on the blanket the child is swaddled in, but bolts off before this can be brought to her attention.

The rough bark of the tree she climbs scrapes against her straw shoes as she pulls herself into the branches with a bag of heavy stones round her shoulder. She aims at the Fire Nation uniforms, reminding herself that they aren't her countrymen any more. One would have killed the man who saved her. The stones make a substantial clunk against the helmets and the hit soldiers drop. Brain damage. Slim chance of survival on a battlefield. The one who came to her rescue was charged by one of the soldiers she once prayed safe return for. The side of his head rings like a muffled bell from her stone. Dead.

It's not until they're checking the bodies for survivors on their own side or the enemy's that she comes down from the tree. She intends to survey the village and the damage done and travel to surrounding villages and towns to tell the others what has become of it. The Water Tribe man sees her and ask that she come answer questions at the camp. The Water Tribesmen don't have a reputation of being bandits so she acquiesces.

Once he's offered her a seat on the bench against the tent wall , he asks to lift her sleeve and assesses the wound she didn't realize she had. Looking at the sleeve she now realizes it's caked in blood, closer in stiffness to birch bark than homespun.

"Nasty cut," he remarks, sitting besid her but turned to face her. "I'll have to clean this, ma'am, and it could hurt. Do you need something to bite?"

She shakes her head resolutely and plainly tells the man: "I can handle pain."

His brows tilt up as he nods once and replies: "Clearly, ma'am." He holds his hand out to take her arm and get a better look at her wound. "If I may, ma'am?"

She places her still bleeding arm in his hand, holding herself back from wincing when he pours clean saltwater over it. She couldn't help but notice how awkward the formalities sound in his speach, like he has to make a point to use his foreign civilian voice. She understands. How many times has she only survived by wearing the right mask? More than she cares to count.

"It's good i got you here as soon as I did, ma'am," he says, drawing debris from her wound with a precision she didn't expect from his wide fingers. "If my men saw you a moment longer, they'd be fighting over who gets to bring you water first."

"Even the younger ones?"

"Oh, especially the younger ones, ma'am!"

"I'm old enough to be their mother," she says, unable to hide her amusement at the idea of some not-yet-twenty beardless boy fawning over her with all her creases and stray gray hairs.

"A strong woman, brave, clever, with a high pain tolerance and a pretty face?" He places a wide, shallow bowl on the bench under her arm and ladels in more clean water. The lack of sting she feels when he rinses the wound, the bleeding has now eased to a lazy ooze, suggests it's salt free, and he concludes, "I don't think they'd mind, ma'am."

He takes a jar of soap tucked under the bench and washes out the wound as gently as one washes a child's back, scooping water from the bowl in his hand and delicately rinsing the suds away.

"Are you always so tender, sir?" she feels compelled to ask.

"When I can be, ma'am," he answers while dabbing the wound dry, careful not to use too much pressure. "No good ever came of being rougher than you need, and it reminds me of before."

She tilts her eyebrows up and nods, mirroring his reaction. He opens an envelope of tanned gut and the smell of evergreens is unmistakable as he applies the resin to the jagged gash in her arm and presses it closed. Pain again, but not so much that she'd need something to bite.

"Who was before?" she asks, drawn in by his sad tone, hoping she may have found someone who understands.

The question catches him off guard as he unfolds the bandage and answers, "The two children I have back home, their mother who was killed in a raid, and mine who looks after them now."

"My apologies," she offers. The man is not only a stranger, but a foreigner with a band of warriors. She shouldn't tell him much, every bone in her body begs her to guard herself, but she's never seen her life so reflected in another's soft, warm voice. "I didn't mind leaving my husband; I wish I could have sooner. I did something terrible. It was supposed to save my children, but I haven't seen them in years so I can't say for certain if it worked."

"I'm sure you did the best you could, ma'am."

She wonders if she truly did.

"No master healer," he admits as he ties the bandage in place, "but that should help. Wash often with boiled water and lye soap and bandage with linen or ramie; never cotton. That sap should help the wound close and prevent infection, and if the pain becomes more than you can handle--"

"Willow bark?"

"Strong, brave, and well-studied, ma'am," he remarked.

"Not in years," she admits in turn. "The glue was a surprise."

"Tradition for a reason, ma'am," he nods.

"I'm sure," she replies and nods. The colors begin to lose shape and she feels very heavy. She wonders how long she's been unable to focus her eyes. She needs to get back, and so she tells the man, "Thank you, sir, for everything," and turns toward the village again.

"Ma'am, wait!" he calls as she pushes herself back up on her feet.

Her first step is a shaky one. Her second feels as if there's deep water where the ground should be.

He catches her as she's falling, desperately asking if she hit her head. The last thing she remembers before it fades is saying no.

She comes to in the tent, lying on fluffy furs on a mat of reeds and thin, green branches. There's a water skin placed at her side. The man who dressed her wound lay by the opening to the tent, facing out. There's a stone lamp and a line hung between two opposite tent poles just below the smoke hole and on the line hangs...

Her gown.

She covers her body with her own arms instinctively, surprised to find she'd been dressed in a large man's shirt. The pants she had worn underneath remained untouched, tied in the same complicated knot she was used to, neither tightened nor loosened from what she remembered.

Hearing her stir the man also wakes and gently but assuredly explains.

"I had to wash the blood out, ma'am. It was just me changing clothes for you; no one was allowed in here, and even I didn't look." This care surprises her and it must show because he follows up with: "I know what modesty means here, ma'am. I'm sorry to have shocked you."

"How much blood did I lose?"

"Hard to say, but with all the running and rock-throwing and stress yesterday, it's no wonder you needed rest."

The entire camp was taking a rest day, and messengers ran out nearby villages to say they were accepting trade and even donations, if they were generous. Food is cooked and doled out to the men, and Ursa is given a tea tasting of pine and citrus, blood broth, dried fish, and rice with seal oil and berries. She asks which of the young men brought her the water skin, and her host answers that he did so the others wouldn't fight over it. She laughs, still tickled by the concept of some young thing giving her puppy eyes, and congratulates him on his strategic wisdom.

After eating her fill she feels she's gained enough strength back to change back to her own clothes. Her host asks if she's sure she won't faint again and she answers that she is. He takes her gown off the line, handing it back to her, and pins the blanket he slept with in its place. She notices then how stripped bare his bedding is compared to what she had woken up in. There is no mat, no layers of furs underneath as well as on top, just a single shaggy hide and a thin woolen blanket on the dirt floor. The realization dawns on her: he gave her his bed for the night. With the blanket securely in place he faces away from it and toward the tent's doorflap so he can turn others away

The gown is a treasured one of hers: plain in construction and without much decoration but made of a fabric whose warp and weft were slightly different shades of green. A mistake of the dyer and solution by the weaver, perhaps, but it always reminded her of wind in the leaves on a sunny day. There's a tear in one sleave now, and the shadow of a stain remains where she bled stiffness into it, but the rest still looks like leaves and sunshine.

She asks who the shirt will be returned to, that she knows who to thank. He reveals it's one of his own. She finds herself overwhelmed by the kindness of this stranger. He gave a woman he had known for less than an hour the use of his bed and dressed her in his clothes when her own were unclean. Little wonder why the people seem to love them.

She asks if the people from her village have come by to trade but he doesn't recognize them. She walks about the camp. Food is being shared, civilans have brought gifts of tobacco and pickles and lime eggs, the Water Tribesmen don't accept libations, but they will take tea. Some bring rice to exchange for tanning services or bone carvings. Some discussions held between warriors and a merchant are about letters to their wives and children. Some of the younger men of the Water Tribe army catch a look at her and, predictably, nudge their friends so they, in turn, could get an eyeful of her. And among all the outsiders, Ursa sees a familiar seamstress sitting by the fire and nursing a baby.

The seamstress grabs a fistful of Ursa's sleeve, exclaiming "We'd all worried you died, dear!"

"Even Old Man Chen?" she asks, taking a seat by her friend.

"Oh, especially cranky Old Man Chen!" she chuckles. "Our host at the next village thought he was your father!" Loosening her grip on the sleeve, she notices the bandage and comments, "They patched you up real good, didn't they?"

"Yes," she answers, "and may it never be said they lack hospitality."

"You get any marriage proposals yet?" the seamstress asks as she swaps her child over to her other breast, mischief in her eyes. "I hear they like their girls strong."

She's about to joke back about the comments her own host made about gawky lads fighting over her when he requests to speak to her in private.

"It's a cultural question ma'am," he explains once they're in his tent. "There are quite a few enemy bodies in that village. We haven't always been the most respectful to them in the past, and we haven't always had time to do anything but let them rot. Now that we do have some time, what would you have us do with them?"

"I don't understand sir," she says, casting her eyes down. "Why do you ask me?"

"Few in this part of the Earth Kingdom have eyes like yours, ma'am," he answers flatly. "And those who do generally don't react so strongly to the chill this time of year, or walk like they're used to sandals."

They were a ways away from the Si Wong Desert, and even years into her exile she was still acclimating. She hadn't even noticed her shivering, arm-folding, hand-rubbing, or how she must have wrapped herself in those furs.

"Each man among them was someone's son," he says. "How would a Fire Nation mother have their bodies handled?"

"Burn them," she answers. "And scatter the ashes in the plowed fields where people grow their crops, that they'll be stepped on less often."

He nods at her words and says, "It will be done, ma'am."

"You needn't call me ma'am," she says. "I'm no better than you."

He nods.

She insists on staying to help them cremate the bodies. She carries logs to build the pyres. She helps strip the dead and keeps each man's uniform with the tag that bears his father's name, some are noble, some simply end in "the farmer" or "the butcher" or "the smith." The helmets, on the other hand, are nailed to stakes facing the nearest road, a warning of what happened before and what can happen again.

When the ashes cool, she helps the men scatter them in dormant plowed fields that will be sown with seeds in the coming spring.

When she can contain her curiosity no longer she turns and asks him "Why?"

"Why what?" He almost calls her ma'am again.

"You knew I was one of them," she explains. "You knew, and yet you dressed my wound. You gave me your water, you dressed me in your clothes, you gave me your bed to sleep in, you fed me. Why? Why such kindness for the enemy?"

He looks at her and holds back a chuckle as he answers, "You rescued a civilian's baby and helped my men survive the attack. If you're my enemy, you should do a better job at it."

When she had first arrived at the village, the others offered her a house with a poor roof that had been abandoned after a hearth fire. They avoided her and pretended not to hear when she spoke, unless she was buying something. Old Man Chen, bitter and cynical, had been the first among them to let her heal him of an illness. He figured if he died, she'd have done nobody wrong by it. When she helped the chatty seamstress through a difficult labor, the village became much kinder and more welcoming to her. Only then had the wives explained how to grow cooking herbs in their soil and the children had been allowed to accept sweets from her. Such kindness freely given was not what she expected, especially from a Water Tribe man who recognized her as Fire Nation.

She stays in their company, even as they pack up their camp.

"You said you studied medicine?" he asks

"Just the herbs," she admits "Some time ago."

"But the village goes to you for healing?"

"Yes."

"Then keep this," he says, giving her the gut envelope. "We have more."

"What if it runs out?"

"Cut a tree and it bleeds like any of us," he says. "Cut a spruce, gather the sap that oozes out, and filter out the bits of bark and dirt. It'll seal cuts and stop infections."

She thumbs the crisp, see-through gut, nodding, and thanks him before asking if he will ever come this way again. He says they might. She asks what name she should ask after to hear of him.

"Hakoda," he answers with a smile. "And may I ask yours?"

"Ursa," she answers in turn.

"Well, Ursa," he says, tying his tent's walls around their poles, "i hope we can see those eyes in a friendly face again."

And maybe they don't cross paths again, but maybe they do. I sure hope they do.

[mama-cloud-goddess]

10 Things to Pack in Your Hospital Bag

When I was preparing (let's be honest - attempting to prepare) for my son's arrival, I stressed unbelievably hard about what to pack in my hospital bag. I asked friends who had kids, watched a dozen videos from TikTok moms, and got a list from my OB of what my local hospital recommended.

I ended up packing way too much stuff I didn't need. So here's a list of what I actually used.

By the way, this is in the order that I remembered them, not in order of importance.

Hairbrush. I actually forgot to shove this in my bag when leaving for the hospital and ended up sending my fiancé home to grab it. Laying in a bed for multiple days was awful on my hair.

2. Deodorant. Pregnancy, labor, and postpartum make you stink. I am personally very sensitive to how I smell and showered almost every day while I was pregnant, so deodorant was a priority.

3. Travel shower supplies. The hospital will most likely supply soap and shampoo, but I preferred to bring my own. You can buy empty travel-sized bottles to fill with what you have at home, or you can buy a pre-packed set that usually contains shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and possibly some other items. Don't forget a toothbrush and toothpaste!

4. Comfy go-home clothes. I packed multiple articles of clothing that I ended up not wearing. I'd seen several videos on TikTok of people buying labor gowns or robes to take to the hospital, so I bought myself a soft, loose robe that would be easy to adjust for breastfeeding and vital checking. Because it opened in the front, I was only able to wear it for about an hour before I had to change back into my hospital gown for whatever the nurses needed to do. I also packed comfortable pajamas and a nursing dress, thinking I'd want to feel cute when I went home, but it was at the end of April and therefore chilly, so I wore the pajamas home.

5. Slip-on shoes. I had just bought some flip flops because putting shoes on when you're pregnant sucks, so I wore those to the hospital.

6. Go-home baby clothes. This is pretty self-explanatory. My son was cozy and swaddled the entire time we were in the hospital, so he didn't need clothes until it was time to go home.

7. Baby blanket. Proceed. With. Caution. I had this adorable blue baby blanket with little elephants on it and I swaddled my son in it so that he had something from home in the hospital. When the nurse took him to administer his birth shots and do his vision and hearing screenings, she somehow misplaced the blanket and I never saw it again. We asked several nurses and no one could track it down. I'm not entirely sure they tried.

8. Phone charger. I feel like this is a no-brainer, but it's also super easy to forget, especially if you only have one so you can't pack it ahead of time. I also definitely recommend a long cord, I think mine is 6 feet, because you never know how far away the outlet will be.

9. Book or other entertainment. I packed a book that I never got around to reading, but I still recommend a book or a handheld game or something for your down time. I just played on my phone or slept when I could because I was awake for almost 24 hours from the morning my water broke to when I was able to go to bed after giving birth and my son being checked out and.

I also wanted to include some things that I saw multiple people suggest that were completely useless or ignored in my bag.

Diapers/wipes. I didn't plan on packing these, but my ex-husband (husband at the time) insisted on including them when I packed my bag.

2. Pads. They keep you stocked up in the hospital and they load you up when you leave. If you have a preferred brand then by all means bring your own, but I was a heavy bleeder during delivery so the normal flow pads I'd bought would have been useless in the hospital.

3. Baby grooming (nail clippers, etc). I saw this suggested a lot because baby nails are so sharp, and let me tell you they are! But they're also so delicate it's terrifying to cut them. My son is currently 3 1/2 months old and I still just wait for them to chip and tear them off.

4. Hair comb. People recommended this as a distraction from the pain. Squeezing the bristles in your hand is supposed to distribute the pain or something while you're contracting or pushing. Didn't do anything for me.

5. Handheld fan. Great idea; never took it out of my bag. My nurses, as well as my fiancé, were very attentive to my needs, especially the room temperature.

I hope this list is able to help you, or at least ease some of the stress of prepping for the big day.

Mama Cloud Goddess

[manwalksintobar]

R.I.P., My Love (part i) // Tory Dent

Let us be apart then like the panoptical chambers in IC patient X and patient Y, our names magic markered hurriedly on cardboard and taped pell-mell to the sliding glass doors, "Mary", "Donald", "Tory"; an indication that our presence there would prove beyond temporary, like snow flurry. Our health might be regained if aggressive medical action were taken, or despite these best efforts, lost like missing children in the brambles of poor fortune.  The suffering of another's I can only envision through the mimesis of my own, the alarming monitor next door in lieu of a heartbeat signifying cardiac arrest,  prompts a scurry of interns and nurses, their urgent footsteps to which I listen, inert and prostrate, as if subject to the ground tremors of  a herd of buffalo or horses, just a blur in the parched and post-nuclear distance. I listen, perhaps the way the wounded will listen to the continuing war,  so different sounding than before, the assault of noise now deflected against consciousness rather than serving as motivation for patriotism and targets.  Like fistfuls of dirt loaded with pebbles and rocks thrown at my front door, I knew that the footsteps would soon be running to me also. The blood pressure cuff swaddled around my arm pumped in its diastolic state independently like an iced organ ready for transplant as I witnessed with one circular rove of my eyes my body now dissected into television sets, like one of those asymmetrical structures  that serves as a model for a molecular unity in elementary science classes. And the plastic bags of IV fluids that hung above me, a Miró-like mobile or iconic toy  for an infant's amusement, measured the passing of time by virtue of their depletion.  Sometimes I could count almost five and then seven swinging vaguely above me at 4 am. I remember the first, hand-held high above me when I arrived via ambulance at the ER, the gurney accelerating as a voice exclaims on the color of my hands "they're blue!".  Another voice (deeper) virtually yells out into the chaos that she can't get a pulse. Several pairs of scissors begin simultaneously to cut off my clothes, their shears working their way upward like army ants from pant cuff and shirt-sleeve,  a formulaic move for the ER staff which, despite its routine, still retains a sense of impromptu in the hurriedness of the cutting both deft and crude, in the sound of their increased breathing, of their efforts intensified by my blood  pressure dropping, the numbers shouted out as if into night fog and ocean. It's not a lack of professionalism but the wager of emotional investment that I feel. One attendant, losing her aplomb for a moment, can't contain herself from remarking  (as if I'm already post-mortem) on what a great bra I have; "Stretch lace demi-cup, Victoria's Secret," I respond politely in my head.

[felswritingfire]

April Brain Rot #7

Prompts:

10. Caught

3. Surprise Hug

(Pokémon AU) Kalim Al Asim x Reader

Summery: It's almost time for your's and Kalim's one year anniversary and you're determined to get him that water type Pokémon he's been wanting for his team. Though, plans do change once in a while- even if they're in the form of saving a baby Oshawott from some crazy rapids.

TW: Fast moving water (?)

Word count: 1,375

A note from Fel: FUCKING- OK- THIS WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITES HANDS D O W N. KALIM IS BABY AND I'D KILL FOR JAMIL'S ARBOK- Please, I love Pokémon AUs so much oml Also my gf liked this story a lot so like- *AGGRESSIVE FIST PUMP* ANYWAY! Enjoy!

You had been searching for hours, the tall grass having slapped you in the face one too many times and your pokemon becoming tired from the amount of stubborn pokémon who had jumped out at you. You were hoping that you’d be able to find the perfect pokemon for Kalim- he had been chattering to you about getting a water type pokémon to add to his team, but so far he had no luck. So, with that thought in mind and the looming day of your first anniversary of dating him, you gathered up your wits and continued to push, feeding Sauce, your partner Appletun (Kalim had given him to you as an Applin when he had confessed to you), an Oran Berry as you trudged on. He trilled and rubbed his head against your cheek, resting in your arms.

“We’ll go a little further and then we’ll call it a day- ok, bud?” You laugh as he answers with a happy cry.

The stream you’re following flows in a strong current: branches and leaves rushing down the flow of water. You really hoped a Buizel would come appearing- it would be a good match for Kalim’s performances. At least you think. You’ve never been one to participate in performances, your dream being a famous battle trainer from a young age. It wasn’t until Kalim waltzed into your life that you began to really pay attention to the contests. He always had a way of making a contest something even grander than it already was-

A sharp cry pulls you from your musings and you look to the rushing river to see a small white head bobbing along in the water: an Oshawott.

You frantically look around while you begin running and reach into the pouch that rests on the side of your hip for your Golduck, Delta. You feel the three lines that you etched into her pokéball and throw it; she comes out with a cry, already running alongside you on all fours. “Delta! We have to save the baby!” You point to the crying Oshawott that keeps going beneath the waves. Delta nodded and dove into the water, her strong body cutting through the water easily.

You continue to run, jumping over rocks and pushing tall grass out of your way. You catch sight of a giant log acting as a bridge to the other bank of the stream up ahead and you dart towards it. You set down Sauce before you climb it, it lets out a strained groan as you make your way across it. You wave to Delta, the little Oshawott on her back. She coos at you and brings herself to a stop in the water despite the speed and strength of the current. She takes the baby otter pokémon off of her back and holds them up towards you in her palms. You reach your hands down and loop them around the baby, cradling it towards your chest as you pull out her pokéball and call her back.

The log cracks and begins to give way as you rush back to Sauce, his tiny cry of relief as you hop off the collapsing log. You look at it with wide eyes and back to the Appletun and let out a strained laugh. “That was close, huh?”

He gives you a disgruntled whine.

“Sorry, sorry, bad joke.” You say, looking down at the baby who shivers in your arms, his big, watery eyes staring up at you. “You ok little guy?” You run your finger over the top of his head and he coos and lean into your touch.

You smile, a sudden idea hitting you. “Hey, would you like to meet someone? When we get you cleaned up that is.”

They tilt their head, before he nuzzles into your chest.

You share a look with Sauce before nodding. “I guess that’s a yes.”

************************************************************************

Kalim had been waiting for you in the hotel you had rented, Jamil sitting in the corner petting his Arbok while he read one of the books you had recommended to him. “Do you think they’ll be back soon?” Kalim suddenly asked.

Jamil glances at him before shrugging. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I know but I miss them so much.”

“They’ve been gone for a little over an hour. Have patience, Kalim.”

The prince groans, squeezing his Spinda close to him. She chirps and pressed his face with her soft paws, pressing his cheeks together until his lips are puckered and he laughs. “I’m fine, Dizzy! I just miss my love is all.”

Kalim doesn’t notice the silent gag that Jamil does, hugging his Arbok when he catches him making the same face.

The door opens and you’re standing there with dirt on your cheeks and thin scratches littering your exposed skin. “I’m back!”

“(Y/N)!” Kalim cheers, placing Dizzy down and racing towards you.

“Hello, do you need any…” Jamil trails off seeing the towel swaddled… something in your arms (along with the plastic bag holding books). He catches Kalim by the back of the shirt, stopping him.

Kalim goes to ask him what’s wrong when he notices the towel as well. “What’s in it?” He asks.

“Well-” You let out a laugh as the Spinda hugs your leg, looking up at you with a bright smile and swirling eyes. You lean down, pushing the blanket into the crook of one arm, to pat her head before Sauce comes up and nuzzles up to her and she brings him into a hug. “He’s your early anniversary present.”

“He?” Kalim’s eyes begin to sparkle like rubies and Jamil steps closer to look as you tilt the towel towards them.

In the towel lays the baby Oshawott, light snores leaving him as his chest rises up and down. He digs further into the soft fabric, an unconscious sigh leaving him. It takes everything in Kalim not to squeal in delight at the sleeping baby. His hands itching to spoil him. “Where did you find him? He’s just as cute as when Tanzanite was a baby!”

Jamil scoffs. “No one’s as cute as Tanzanite-” he rubs the head of the Arbok who sniffs at the baby before nuzzling his head against the soft fur of the Oshawott’s head- “but he is a close second.”

Tanzanite releases a happy hiss.

“I found him when I was looking for a Floatzel for you.” You say, moving to place the plastic bag on the floor. “Me and Sauce heard him cry and saw him getting washed down the stream, so I sent out Delta to go get him. And, well, I couldn’t just leave the little guy. Also I couldn’t see a mama or anything while I was walking back, he was all alone.” You smile down at the baby as he stretches in your arms, slowly waking up to look at the faces peering at him. He sniffs at the Arbok who hovers in front of him, closing his hood slightly to make himself seem smaller (Jamil hoped the baby wouldn’t start crying, Tanzi always looked so sad when it happened and would hide in the back of the room to not upset them any more). Much to everyone’s delight, the baby cooed and patted his snout with his tiny paw, Tanzi hisses in delight and pressed closer to the happy otter. “I think he’ll be a good match, don’t you, Kali?”

Kalim nodded, jumping on the balls of his feet. “He’s perfect! I love him already!” He holds out his hand to the baby who immediately beams at him. You hand the baby over to Kalim who cradles him to his chest and presses a smooch onto his fuzzy head. He lets out a happy screech, patting at the prince’s chin. Kalim pulls you into a sudden hug with his other arm (that has you letting out a small yelp), the baby being squeezed between the two of you and he lets out happy clicks and snuggles against both of your bodies. “I love you!” Kalim says before he presses a kiss to your lips.

Jamil and Tanzi gag at the display. The trainer high fives Dizzy who copies them and Sauce shakes his head at the three.

<The Next Chosen Character>

Thank you for reading!