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#BORN TO EAT
daisywords · 7 months
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One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.
Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.
It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?
Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.
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clover-mouse · 1 year
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the grassy gnoll had me thinking about a mossy rock … mossy .. statue?
so here is a gargoyle i’ve doodled up. he’s my son
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ashleyeveerson · 13 days
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Haven't been able to think about anything other than the victorian/edwardian/WW1 twink and his 80's punk almost-boyfriend for a week, send help
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lizzibennet · 2 years
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per anon’s request, i present to you THE best version of beatrice’s monologue in much ado about nothing. i thought about cropping this but decided this scene must be watched in its full glory
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dingledraw · 4 months
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Aziraphale, how much do you love Crowley?
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“Oh, not at all really… I don’t even like her…”
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sharknark · 9 days
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killua koala parallels || how i imagine their getting to know eachother convo went
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humming-fly · 8 months
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given how gluttony is shown being "born" in the anime I can only imagine the horror show that must've gone down with envy
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fly-high-butterfly · 1 year
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esprei · 10 months
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Emmet month - Day 18: Food and drink
emmet pancake 🥞
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goddidntdothis · 2 months
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The Accident (Artemis aiming above the reeds. )
[ drawn with a broken sax reed ]
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foolsfrogg · 4 months
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Can u draw hilda when she eat hot chip and lie
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me when I heat hot chip and lie
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rhythmgameurl · 1 year
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With the latest little update of Limbus Company it's confirmed that Don Quixote canonically beats Sinclair at chess entirely because whenever she starts losing she runs to Yi Sang who's so out there he intervenes purely so that the pieces are in the optimal configuration.
I thus suggest that Sinclair enlist the aid of Outis and pull off his own Evil Advisor Gambit, with Evil Advisor being a role that Outis was born and raised to perform, and the Evil Advisor Gambit also being something Don Quixote would fall for a hundred times out of a hundred.
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buumbaby · 5 months
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comm for edthekraken on twitter
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servicedaddy · 9 months
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Biting my lip, imagining how your cute little clit belongs between my lips.
How it it would feel, slowly getting harder. Puffy. Wet.
And how it would taste. Warm, salty, delicious.
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Someone makes a choked, shocked sound. Someone else yelps. It occurs to Ace, somewhere between the howling in his ears and the ache in his lungs and the taste of salt and iron flooding his mouth, that this is probably pretty surprising for his brothers to witness. Maybe even downright upsetting.
The thing is, Ace was wading into the jungles on his own as early as four years old. Dadan taught him how to do basic shit like talk and wipe his ass, but he honestly didn't have a ton of human interaction before meeting Sabo. And the thing about Sabo was that he had more than enough human interaction for the both of them. Ace learned some manners from Makino, but while Sabo was still around, there wasn't really any reason to get... good, at people.
But then Sabo died, and Ace needed to teach himself not only to talk his way out of trouble but also how to be the nice brother, how to treat Luffy with the softness he needed and deserved, how to gentle his hands and his voice and his words. So Ace did that, because he needed to, and it turned out to actually be pretty useful for dealing with people when he wasn't actively looking for a fight. So he stuck with it.
Which is all to say that by the time he'd joined up with Whitebeard, Ace was as close to tame as he had ever been. Almost downright domesticated.
Ace snaps his head to the side, putting some real momentum into it, heaving with all his weight until something tears. When he drops to his feet he springs right back up again, lunging. He spits out his mouthful as he goes, lets his jaw drop open.
The thing is, Ace is a child of the wilderness. He raised himself among that wilderness, and then he raised Luffy among that wilderness. He's a son of the jungle at heart, no matter how good he's gotten at pretending to be a person.
The sea-stone cuffs are chaffing his wrists. He feels tired and heavy, but he doesn't need his fire to be dangerous. Doesn't even need his hands.
Teeth find an artery. Body-hot blood sprays his face as Ace bites down, lock-jawed and snarling. Rears back and rips.
Another marine goes down. Ace spits out a chunk of the man's throat and is already rounding on a third. Notices, with a vague annoyance, that he's gonna need to find a toothpick -- there's a scrap of tendon or something caught in his teeth.
Mmm. Boar. They had pork for dinner, ah, the other night? Three days ago? Something like that, but it doesn't taste the same as wild boar does. And anyway, meat on the Moby is always overcooked. Ace is allowed to eat blue steak, but everybody always yells at him when he tries to steal bites of poultry or Sea King or whatever else while it's still tender and bleeding. This fight is giving Ace a real craving!
Duck. Lunge. Bite down, hard, thunder of a rabbit-quick pulse against his tongue, bulge of tender flesh against his soft palate. Iron and salt in his mouth.
Fear has a flavor. It is bitter and acrid, reminiscent of char, and Ace hadn't liked it much when he was young and still learning how to hunt. It stiffens up the meat, too, makes it kinda chewy. Somewhere along the line, he'd acquired a taste for it, though. He still marks it as a point of pride, his ability to hunt and kill prey without it ever knowing he was there, roasting something that is tender-sweet and gives easily under his teeth -- but the taste of fear isn't so bad either. Sometimes he even prefers it, gets a craving for it. Like wild boar, he hasn't had it in a while. Maybe he'll chase down his own dinner tonight.
Ace rears back. Muscle fibers split, skin stretches until it snaps. A heave, and a body crumples to the ground, gurgling. He gnaws kind of idly on his mouthful while he catches his breath, snorting blood out of his nose and straining his ears. Sounds like the fight's over, then.
Another lump of trachea gets spat into the dirt. Ace turns to face his brothers, counting heads -- good, it looks like nobody got hurt too bad, everybody is still standing! He grins. Ah, they're all pretty pale though, that's a little bit concerning, he hopes nobody's in shock. He learned from Marco that that can happen to anybody, even if they've been in a whole lot of fights.
"Hey!" Ace chirps. "Is everybody okay?" His wrists are killing him. Also, he really needs a shower. He's got blood in his ears, how the hell did that happen? But first he jogs over to where the others are all standing, clumped together, still just. Kinda staring at him.
Okay. Concerning. "You guys alright?" He asks again, lower. "Is anybody hurt? What happened?"
"Ace, man," Deuce says. His voice sounds kind of shaky. He drags a hand through his hair, fucking it up even worse than it already is. "What the fuck was that?"
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prhvlbop · 10 months
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god i love levi for the more minor touches of ptsd/cptsd. the scene where if you don't recruit levi in the basement of the restaurant, it's been an increasingly untenable day - like, believable but dramatically awful childhood backstory, your dad is an alcoholic and kills your mom, you go to silent hill hell torture orphanage where they're doing child sacrifice and multiple forms of abuse, you get recruited into the army and sent on a suicide mission where you're the only survivor out of the crew of other exploited kids and also they gave you an opioid addiction you have no treatment for, you cant take it and decide to run away to the only place you feel any comfort in which is your hometown of the Silent Hill Hell Torture Orphanage, you have an opioid addiction, on the way there the train breaks down and you get shoved into a battle royale in your hometown where everyone youve ever known has been scarred into a infectious demonic husk and destroyed, you have an opioid addiction, The untreatable opioid addiction is beginning to become a real problem on top of all this other shit, Caligura tries to kill you and you run back to cry and freak out in your worst reviewed elementary school on yelp, someone finds you having a paranoid breakdown holed up in a classroom and you immediately assume they're going to kill you because why wouldn't they be after all this and tell them to get it over with and once they say they're not you just ask them to tell you what to do. like Please just tell me what to do. the familiarity of control. how seamlessly it blends with the game mechanics. hed do anything you say for the rest of the game let you cut his arms off without resisting whatever. he'll give you the shirt off his back without asking. hell kill other contestants on your command with just minor restraint. just tell him what to do. I have to STOP this POST because im about to sound like this. God damnit. well . i like hi m in case you were wondjering
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