#come on baby!

[tyunniez]

ill post a whimpering audio if i hit 1k

[posthumanwanderings]

Simple 2000 Series Stream Pt.4 (D3 Publisher - PS2 - 2000s)

0:00 Pre-Stream Jams (Love Upper!) 7:00 Street Golfer 1:11:55 Love Smash! 1:43:55 Snowboard Racer 2 2:21:55 Come on Baby! 3:37:55 Yakuza Fury 3:56:30 Metropolismania 2 4:26:50 Love Mahjong! 4:41:20 Love Mahjong! 2 5:07:55 Taxi Rider 5:27:45 The Maid Clothes & Machine Gun 6:05:20 Love Songs 6:27:30 Runabout 3: Neo Age 6:35:20 The Fire's Fighting Banchou 6:49:10 The Men's Machine Gun Base 7:19:20 Intermission 7:30:00 The Japan Special Forces ~Violent Crime Archipelago 7:41:45 Steel Dragon Evolution 8:14:20 The Meoka Pichi Trap Book ~Oharu-Chan GOGOGO! 8:31:40 Let's Go By Train! 3 9:16:15 The Let's Talk to Aliens! What is Uchu-jin?~ 9:50:50 Monster Attack / Earth Defense Force 10:20:35 Demolition Girl / The Daibijin

[valyrfia]

if charles wins im renouncing lestappen gate forever forza ferrari sempre

[captainsaltypear]

IS ANYONE ELSE GONNA TALK ABOUT THIS OR

[daisywords]

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.

[tfemlestatpropagandist]

[chalkrub]

autumnal chill....featuring the girl

[nanaomei]

WHAT I GOTTA SAY TO GET A PIECE OF THAT?!

art by: mossmaybe1 on twt

[milkcioccolato]

Jedi Master Maul faces the greatest obstacle of his existence: being tiny

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[cesiscribbles]

Some fluff~

[chloesimaginationthings]

New FNAF clown Jackie from secret of the Mimic!!

[posthumanwanderings]

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Come on Baby! (Expotato / D3 Publisher - PS2 - 2005)  

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

tfw you’ve been tasked to murder the prince of the northern water tribe but he’s really majestic

(they make a compromise)

[siyelius]

he’s like that weird uncle that won’t stop randomly showing up for family events despite cutting him off 23 years ago for felony fraud charges

[bruciemilf]

Alfred honestly can’t say shit about Bruce bringing in strays, because what if the Waynes got him the same way?

I genuinely can’t recall HOW Alfred, British special forces extraordinaire, ended up working for Gotham’s (scary) sweethearts.

In my mind, he came to them bleeding.

There’s a tang of bitterness pooling in his gut. Soldiers don’t have friends. They have guns. And he’s all out.

Just when Alfred thought all is in peril, a tiny little hand gently covers a nasty bullet hole on his abdomen.

The first thing Alfred thinks about is: ‘Jesus, this kid has scary eyes.’

“Hi, Alfred.”

“…How do you—“

“Bruce! Jesus FUCKING Christ, I swear, I’m not paying for your ransom next time you run o—…What the fuck is that?”

If there’s one thing about Thomas that Alfred will never forget is his voice; The bass , so chasmic and powerful it could shake the whole world, and the burning care in his eyes despite his vulgarity.

Bruce, — who’s the tiniest bundle of a boy Alfred witnessed, is yanked up by his father’s strong hands, squeezed to his chest carefully. “Hurt,” he says. There’s a tiny, red handprint on Thomas’ shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice,” Thomas mumbling, looking around.

Maybe local gangs? The bullet point is too precise, too calculated. “Who the hell are you?”

Alfred, with his raspy breath, says, “I’m the terribly rude bloke dying on your doorstep, I’m afraid. Alfred Pennyworth. At your service.”

For a guy who’s about to bleed his last, he sounds awfully sarcastic.

“Yeah, wise guy, no one’s dying on my kid’s birthday. Bruce, tell Dotty to prep up the basement. And tell your mama to get my Budlight out of the cooler. Jesus Christ.”

Alfred ends up hoisted on this man’s back. Thomas asks if he has anyone he wants to call? Anyone that’ll come pick him up? Anyone to bury him, if it comes to it.

Alfred whispers he does not.

Thomas sighs. “Well. Kid‘a been asking for a playmate.”