#we made all those good nutrients and for what

[holyblonded]

new foods | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: alexia decides to diversify the food at home and you, a notorious picky eater, suffers

warnings: avo-freaking-cados

notes: as a former picky eater this resonates with me ✊🏾

"Ale, please! Leave the cooking to Olga, por favor," you begged, practically on your knees in the kitchen.

Alexia, standing at the counter with a determined look and an apron that read "Master Chef", waved you off like you were being ridiculous. "No, this will be good for everybody. The physios and nutritionists all agree—you need more protein in your diet. No more pizza and all those energy drinks every day. You're a growing girl and need all the nutrients you can get so you can grow to be big and strong."

You stared at her with a blank expression, blinking slowly as if you were processing her words. Then, as if struck by divine inspiration, you whipped around to face Olga, who was trying (and failing) to hide her amusement in the corner. "Please, Olga. Don't let the monster do this. You're the only one who can stop her!"

Alexia rolled her eyes and gave you a light smack on the back of your head. "Monster? Really?"

Olga burst out laughing, leaning against the doorframe. "Sorry, mi Estrellita, but I have to go to Madrid for the week. And you know as well as I do that once she's set her mind on something, there's no stopping her."

She walked over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then to Alexia's, her grin widening at the pure look of betrayal on your face.

"Be good," Olga said sweetly, ruffling your hair.

"How can I be in these conditions?" you groaned, throwing yourself dramatically onto the couch, your face buried in your hands like a grieving widow in a telenovela.

"You're so dramatic," Alexia huffed, crossing her arms. "This will be a good change, Estrelleta, prometo." She walked over, kissed the top of your head, and then headed to the door to see Olga out.

The moment the door closed, you threw your head back and let out an exaggerated wail. "Why me?!"

From the kitchen, Alexia's voice called out, "Stop acting like I'm going to poison you. It's eggs, niña. People eat them every day!"

You sat up abruptly, squinting toward the kitchen. "Eggs? That's it? That's your grand plan? That's your big nutritional breakthrough? Eggs?!"

"With spinach," Alexia added smugly, emerging from the kitchen holding up a bag of wilted greens like it was some kind of trophy.

"Spinach?!" you gasped, clutching your chest. "Ale, what do you take me for? A farm animal?!"

Alexia laughed, shaking her head as she walked back into the kitchen. "You're impossible. And for the record, this is why you're stuck with me as your cook. Maybe if you didn't treat every green vegetable like it's a personal attack, we wouldn't be here."

You groaned again, flopping back on the couch with your arm draped over your forehead like you were moments away from fainting. "If I don't survive this week, tell Eli and Alba I love them."

"I'll be sure to let them know during the funeral. Cause of death: an actual vegetable," Alexia called back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You couldn't help but smirk as you peeked toward the kitchen. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely," Alexia admitted with a grin.

The sound of a pan clanging against the stovetop made you wince. "Ale," you called nervously, sitting up. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Niña, relax," Alexia replied confidently. "How hard can it be?"

The smell of something burning wafted into the living room.

"Ale!"

"Okay, maybe a little harder than I thought," Alexia muttered, frantically waving a towel at the smoke detector as it began to beep.

You couldn't help but laugh as you watched her struggle. "Olga, please come back," you whispered to yourself, shaking your head. This was going to be a long week.

The cafeteria buzzed with its usual lunchtime energy—trays clinking, teammates laughing, and the faint aroma of fried food in the air. Your stomach growled as you grabbed a tray, your eyes scanning the buffet like a predator stalking its prey. You weren't sure what you wanted, but one thing was certain: it wasn't going to be anything green, or worse, anything with Alexia's dreaded stamp of approval.

As you reached the pizza station, your salvation in sight, a firm hand gripped your elbow, yanking you out of the line.

"¡Ven aquí! (Come here!)" Alexia demanded, a grin on her face that was far too smug for comfort.

"¡Ay, qué ahora! (Oh, what now!)" you groaned, your tray wobbling precariously in your hands. "I was this close to lasagna!"

"You don't need that," Alexia said, practically dragging you toward a table like an overly enthusiastic nutritionist.

When you got there, Alexia pulled off the lid from a covered plate with a flourish, revealing a kale salad so green it could've been plucked straight from a meadow. It was topped with avocado slices, cherry tomatoes, quinoa, and—because fate clearly hated you—a dollop of cottage cheese sitting ominously in the middle like the world's saddest sundae.

You stared at the plate, then at Alexia. "You... expect me to eat that?"

"It's good for you," Alexia replied cheerfully, gesturing toward the chair she had so kindly pulled out for you.

"It looks like something my rabbit would eat if I had one," you deadpanned, making no move toward the seat. "Can we get a rabbit?"

"Stop being dramatic and no. It's packed with nutrients. You'll love it," Alexia insisted, her smile unwavering as she nudged you forward.

"Alexia, I swear," you said, narrowing your eyes. "If this is revenge for that time I 'accidentally' spilled Gatorade in your cleats—"

Alexia's eyes flashed dangerously. "It's not revenge. It's about making sure you don't turn into a walking bag of chips and pizza slices."

Across the room, Mapi was already halfway through a plate of fried rice, watching the scene with barely disguised amusement. "Estrellita, just eat it. The sooner you do, the sooner she'll stop hovering over you like your abuela checking your homework."

"Traitor," you muttered under your breath before finally plopping into the chair with a heavy sigh. Picking up your fork, you poked at the kale tentatively, as though it might spring to life and attack you.

"You're not poking it; you're eating it," Alexia said sternly, arms crossed.

Glaring at her, you stabbed an avocado slice with dramatic flair and shoved it into your mouth. The moment it hit your tongue, your face twisted in disgust. "This tastes like regret and bad decisions," you declared, coughing. "Why do you hate me, Ale?"

Alexia rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous. It's good for you. And you'll thank me when you feel amazing during training and on the field."

"I'll thank you if I survive this week," you shot back, dramatically pushing the plate away as though it had personally wronged you.

Meanwhile, Aitana leaned over from the next table, smirking as she whispered to Keira, "Five bucks says she orders pizza tomorrow."

Keira grinned. "Deal."

Mapi, still chewing on a fry, added, "I'll throw in another five that she bribes someone to smuggle her in snacks before the week's over."

"I can hear you," you snapped, throwing a glare at your teammates.

"And we're still right," Mapi said, laughing with Keira and Aitana.

Alexia reached over, spearing one of Mapi's fries from her plate as the defender swatted at her hand. "Stop complaining and eat, Estrelleta. You'll feel better after."

You stared down at the salad again, poking it like it owed you money. "When Olga gets back, we're staging a coup. No more kale dictatorship."

The whole table erupted into laughter as Alexia groaned, "You're impossible."

"Estrelleta?" Alexia called out again, her voice carrying a note of growing irritation. She had scoured the entire house, from the bedrooms to the kitchen to the gym downstairs. Nothing.

She passed your room once more, pausing when she heard the faint sound of shuffling and... crunching?

"No, I want a refund," your muffled voice complained, irritation clear despite your full mouth. "There's no extra cheese on this pizza! And you forgot the second bottle of Sprite! Not to mention you didn’t buy the right Monster. I said Pipeline Punch not freaking Mean Bean! Monster Java isn’t even good. Worst delivery ever."

Alexia's eyes narrowed. She followed the sound to your closet, where she stood silently, listening for another second. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door, revealing a scene that could only be described as chaotic.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an empty pizza box, untouched Monster Java, greasy napkins, and a half-drained bottle of Sprite. The glow of your phone lit your guilty face, while a half-eaten slice of pizza dangled from your hand.

"Estrelleta," Alexia said flatly, arms crossed.

You froze mid-bite, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. A piece of pepperoni drooped from your mouth. "Oh, uh... Ale! Hey there! Didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sure you didn't," Alexia replied, stepping into the closet. She gestured to the mess around you. "And what exactly is this?"

You clutched the pizza box to your chest like a treasure chest of secrets. "This? Oh, this is...uh...team research! Yeah, I'm testing potential new post-game meals."

Before Alexia could respond, your phone crackled to life on speaker.

"Told you it was worth it!" Patri's unmistakable voice chimed in, followed by Pina's snickering. "Did you at least get the extra breadsticks?"

Alexia reached down, picked up your phone, and held it to her face with an arched brow. "Hello, Patri. Hello, Pina."

The line went dead in record time, but not before you heard Patri gasp and Pina yell, "Run, Estrella! Save yourself!"

You groaned, flopping back against the pile of hoodies and sweaters in your closet. "Great. Now I'm on my own. Traitors."

Alexia smirked, sitting cross-legged in front of you. "Let me guess—you bribed them to help you sneak this in?"

You scoffed. "Bribed? Such an ugly word. I prefer incentivized."

Alexia held up the now-empty pizza box. "You know Lucy is going to hear about this, right?"

Your jaw dropped in horror. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would." Alexia grinned wickedly, taking a deliberate bite of the last slice of pizza. "You know how she feels about you eating junk food. She personally picked out that kale salad for you."

"That's exactly why you can't tell her!" you pleaded, sitting upright. "She'll ship me to England just to starve me on cucumber smoothies!"

Alexia pretended to consider this, chewing slowly. "I might keep quiet...but only if you finish the kale salad tomorrow. Without complaints."

Your glare could've melted steel. "You're a monster."

"Your words, not mine," Alexia said smugly, popping the crust into her mouth.

With a heavy, defeated sigh, you muttered, "Fine. I'll eat the salad. But you can't make me eat that yogurt goo again. It's unnatural."

"No promises," Alexia replied with a smirk, grabbing the Sprite. "Now, let's clean this up before Olga finds the evidence and proves me right. I can’t let her be right again."

You groaned, muttering under your breath, "This is my villain origin story."

[deanpinterester]

they should invent a period that just discards the blood and has no other effects on you physically or mentally

[violetskylights0]

Squeaky Clean

Vi x Reader

Summary: You and Vi break into a house with an obnoxiously big shower...it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Warnings: Smut (18+) -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sneaking into houses in Piltover was old news for you and Vi. You’d done this a hundred times, rarely getting caught. But tonight felt different. Vi had set her sights on a stunning condo by the river, and though you were hesitant, one look at her stubborn grin was all it took.

“C’mon, gorgeous. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” she said, flashing you that cocky smirk that had you melting in an instant. She held your hand, pulling you forward, and you couldn’t help but follow.

She motioned toward a window a few feet up, and you gave her a knowing smile, stepping into her hands to boost yourself up. Just like old times. Vi lifted you with ease, her hands lingering a bit too long on your ass, and you shot her a grin.

"Seriously, Vi? Five seconds in, and you’re already getting handsy?” you teased as you shimmied in, reaching a hand back to her.

“It’s not my fault your ass looks so damn good in those pants,” she quipped, grabbing hold of your arm as you pulled her in. But when she flew through and practically landed on top of you, you both hit the ground with a soft thud.

Your eyes widened at the noise, but Vi just chuckled, brushing a reassuring hand against your cheek. “Relax. Owner’s in Ixtal for some business trip. I’ve been scoping the place for weeks. We’re clear.” She helped you up, pulling you close, her touch lingering as if to reassure herself you were still here.

“You know, it’s a little scary how good you are at this,” you murmured, your gaze drifting to her lips, feeling that familiar warmth in her presence.

She leaned in, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “I seem to remember you telling me I’m good at a couple of other things too,” she said, kissing along your neck in gentle, lingering brushes that made your heart race.

You sighed, a little dazed, but still smirked. “Vi,” you breathed, feigning a whine. “Focus, babe. You want dinner next week, or are you planning to flirt me to death here?”

She laughed, giving your ass a light tap as she passed. “Dinner? I’m thinking I’d rather have you for dessert. But someone insists I need more nutrients or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, feeling a glimmer of what you thought you’d lost forever. After all, you’d been through, it was a relief to see pieces of the Vi you fell for hadn’t gone anywhere.

You both agreed to split up. Vi took the main floor while you explored upstairs, your rule simple: only take things no one would miss. But as you crept into the bathroom, your jaw dropped.

Moonlight spilled across sleek stone floors and lush plants, creating a humid, glimmering oasis. The shower itself was enormous, complete with a stone bench carved into the side. You couldn’t help but imagine hot water streaming endlessly—an impossible luxury at home.

“Vi!” you called, barely containing your excitement. “You have to see this.”

A moment later, she appeared, pink hair catching in the soft light, and let out a low whistle as she took it all in. “Holy shit. Didn’t even know they made bathrooms this big.”

“Can you believe this is normal for these people?” you muttered, a hint of irritation slipping into your tone.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes darkening. “Yeah, these pricks’ biggest issue is the time it takes to walk across their showers. They don’t know the first thing about struggling just to make it by.”

“Hey…hey. I’m sorry I didnt mean to sound annoyed” You stepped in front of her, cupping her cheek to pull her gaze back to you, grounding her in your touch. “Forget them and their fancy showers,” you whispered, brushing your thumb gently against her cheek.

“We may not have a shower—or even an apartment as big as this,” you murmured, your lips curling into a soft smile, “but I have you. And a year ago, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. So every day I get to see your face, hold your hand, and kiss your cheek,” you leaned in to place a feather-light kiss on her cheek, “is a day in paradise.”

Vi’s fierce expression softened, and she closed her eyes, turning her head to press a kiss to your palm. “And every time I hear your voice, I feel the same,” she replied, pulling you in, her arms wrapping around your waist as if she’d never let go.

You smiled at each other as she leaned in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that made the world fall away. It was a feeling you’d never tire of, the spark even more intense after all the years and everything you’d been through.

You barely noticed her guiding you back until you felt the cool tile at your back, and you let out a small laugh.

“Hey,” you breathed, catching her eye. “Feels like we’d be missing out if we didn’t take advantage of this shower.”

She raised an eyebrow as you stepped back, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to lift it slowly. Just the sight of your skin made her draw in a sharp breath, her eyes full of something tender and fierce all at once.

"I'm surprised,” Vi murmured, not even trying to hide the way her gaze lingered on your bare chest. “Usually you’re the cautious one when we’re breaking into places.”

You smirked, unbuttoning your pants as you stepped onto the cold marble of the shower. “Just because you’re the one with the prison record doesn’t mean I can’t have a little devious streak too.”

Vi blinked, snapping back to the moment as she started pulling off her clothes, her smirk widening. “If you didn’t look so damn good right now, I’d have a clever comeback ready.”

You turned on the water, feeling the icy beads at first but quickly relaxing as the warmth took over. Watching Vi strip off her sports bra, you gave her a slow, inviting smile, motioning her closer with a single finger.

"Why don’t you come take a closer look?”

She let out a low groan as her hands found your hips, pulling you flush against her. “You’re gonna be the death of me, huh, cupcake?” she whispered, lips brushing along your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that melted you in her arms.

You let out a soft moan feeling the warm outline of Vi’s lips on your throat as one hand slowly ran up your stomach before grasping your left breast and lightly tracing your nipple with your thumb. 

Your hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her pink strands as you tighten your grip, tugging just enough to make her gasp. Vi let out a low, throaty groan, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into you, the warmth between you growing with each little pull.

Someone is not playing fair,” Vi said biting down on your nipple playfully. “Two can play that game.” She said slowly lowering herself. 

The soft brush of her chest against your stomach as she lowered herself made your knees nearly buckle, but then you caught sight of her face and forgot to breathe.

Vi looked up at you, blinking slowly, her blue eyes vibrant in the moonlight. Droplets traced down her skin, following each scar, each line of her face, making her look like something out of a dream.

“Holy s-shit, Vi,” you breathed, voice trembling as she backed you against the shower wall. The cool stone made you gasp, but Vi only grinned, lifting your leg over her shoulder, her touch sending a rush of warmth through you.

Vi started slowly kissing up your leg making sure never to lose eye contact with you as she did one long lick up your core making you grip her hair again. 

“So sensitive today huh sweetheart,” Vi smirked against you cupping your heat. 

“Vi if you don't start eating me out soon I swear.” You said looking down at her. 

“Now c’mon is that any way to ask? You know good girls are supposed to beg.” Vi said her tone a bit more stern as she pressed her palm against your clit  making you jump. 

“Fuck really? I mean it was my idea to have shower sex in the first pla- ah!” you whimpered as she started grinding her palm against your clit and raising her eyebrow at you. 

“Okay okay, you win! Please fuck me. Make sure all of Piltover can hear how good you fuck me.” You borderline yelled as Vi moved her hand diving in head first. 

The sounds that echoed through the bathroom would make a brothel blush. The way Vi twirled her tongue over and over your clit just how she knew you liked it. Even pausing to slowly roll the numb between her lips and suck drove you crazy. You would have fallen over if her muscular strong arms were not pinning you to the wall. 

“You can do it, sweet girl. I know you're close. Don’t you want to cum on my face and mark what's yours?” Vi moaned slipping her tongue in your cunt. 

You felt the air leave your lungs as she used her thump to keep rubbing your swollen clit while she fucked you with her tongue. You didn't mean for a scream to come out but it all felt too good…and then it stopped. 

Vi leaned back standing up. 

“What the fuck! Why!” You begged as she led you to the deeper part of the shower with a seat and tuned on the second shower head. 

“Because of my love. I’m going to fuck you in this seat so good that you will never be able to take a shower without thinking of me.” Vi winked laying you down on the bench as you rolled your eyes at her cockiness. 

Vi’s gaze flicked around the shower until she spotted a bottle of soap on a ledge nearby. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned back to you, a smirk curving her lips while you leaned back on your elbows, watching her.

“Why don’t you lather up and give me a little show, hmm?” she murmured, setting the bottle beside you before taking a seat on the bench across, her gaze never leaving you.

You looked at Vi slowly spread her legs waiting for you as you tried not to gawk at the sight. The light drops running down the muscles of her arms all the way to her core had you soaked all over again. 

You nodded not being able to form words as you sat up a bit pouring the cold substance in your hands and slowly rubbing it on your body. 

You made sure to slowly rub all the way from your thighs to your breast as Vi’s arm moved to her own heat. 

You smiled rubbing the soap over and over your tits creating bubbles as Vi began circling her clit. 

“Who knew my good girl was such a fucking slut on display.” Vi moaned not daring to look away from you for a second as she sped up the circles.

You could tell she was getting close from the way her face flushed to her breathing pattern and right as you began to lower your hand to your own clit you stopped making Vi look confused. 

“Two can play that game.” You mimicked her voice and smirked. 

You expected Vi to flash you her playful smile and groan but her eyes got dark focusing in on you. 

“‘I am going to ruin you, sweet girl.” Vi growled positioning herself over you and spreading your legs. 

You barley had time to react to the sight of Vi lining up her heat with yours as you tried to grab onto anything around you at the sensation of her clit bumping yours.

Vi lifted you left leg holding it up straight as she started moving. Your mouth fell open from the sensation. As she began rocking her hips you could barely control the sounds coming out of your mouth. 

“Take it like a good slut for me yeah?” Vi grunted speeding up her pace. 

The sound of your cunts rubbing together bounced off the walls filling the bathroom with the sounds of you together. Your breath started quickening as you looked up at Vi who was mesmerized by the way your tits were bouncing.

“Fuck! Yes Please don't stop baby.” You shrieked as she began grinding down on you. 

‘Can I cum baby? please please oh GOD.” You moaned gripping her thigh. 

“Mhmm come with me pretty girl watch me make a mess of this sloppy fucking pussy.” Vi whined as you saw she was close to. She started thrusting her hips quickly again as your orgasm quickly barreled to you as a string of curses and Vi’s name slipped from your lips. 

As your legs began to shake you could see Vi about to reach her peak as well encouraging her.

“Come on baby come for me.” You cooed as the overstimulation kicked in making your eyes roll back which tipped Vi over the edge seeing you fucked out like that. 

Her hips thrust widely before she let out a high-pitched moan gasping as you felt her pussy throb against yours. 

For a moment, you both just sat there, catching your breath as the steam swirled around you. Vi gently lowered your leg and flopped beside you on the bench, her fingers trailing softly up and down your hip, massaging the muscles with a slow, soothing touch.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, her brows furrowed in genuine concern. “I mean, I only called you a slut because…well, you said you liked it. But I can stop—” she began to ramble, and you couldn’t help but cut her off with a soft kiss.

She was always so cute when she got like this—one moment completely losing herself with you, the next moment wrapped in that familiar softness, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

“I loved it,” you assured her, your fingers brushing tenderly across her cheek. “And I love you,” you added, smiling into her eyes.

Her expression softened, that tough edge in her gaze melting away as she leaned in for another kiss, slow and full of everything she’d never quite put into words. “I love you too,” she whispered, a rare hint of vulnerability showing through her usual boldness.

She chuckled, looking around the lavish shower. “Guess these Piltover jerks are good for something,” she teased, making you laugh as she squeezed your hand.

“Come on, Pinky. Shower time for real,” you said, standing.

“Oh, so I get the soap treatment this time?” Vi grinned, raising an eyebrow as you pointed playfully at her, then sauntered toward the other side of the shower.

Vi shook her head, biting her lip as she watched your hips sway. “Oh, keep that up, and we’ll be here all night,” she called, her mischievous grin promising that “getting clean” was the last thing on her mind.

Author note: Oh, how I have MISSED my Vi. The brainrot has taken over again and it feels so good. Feel free to message ideas or scenarios if you have them!

[rhysepoof]

Sweet Moments (ModernAU!Jayvik x Reader)

Oh thanks for reading the 2 am ramblings of a coping depresso espresso bean that is me. This is me trying to get back into writing fics so it might be meh...but anyways enjoy you Jayvik lovers! Please do comment and send an ask if you'd like to see more/ what you want me to try and write hehe 🫡(Will probably be starting to write the stuff in this post I made before lol)

From the perspective this is written, i think it should be quite ambiguous the gender of the reader...I think...It also ends kinda suggestively

For the AO3 readers

Word Count: 650

You know one might think that having two boyfriends is better than one, the more the merrier kinda thing you know? And yes, in your case, for the most part it is until you realize that having two scientific genius inventors for boyfriends comes with the fact that they take long nights in the lab, or perhaps in Jayce’s garage, building and fixing projects than they do in their own rooms.

But then, there comes the crash days. Where, after spending too many hours working, the boys end up crashing and falling asleep either at their work stations, or in the living room. It does end up giving funny moments that you managed to keep in your phone. A picture of Jayce asleep in front of the fridge, forehead stuck to the door and drool coming out of his mouth. Viktor asleep on the workbench in the garage holding onto a long cooled coffee in his mug.

But the cutest they’ve been are during the times they crash on the couch placed in the garage. Placed there by her own suggestion so they can remember to take a break every now and again, and for Viktor to have a comfortable place to rest at for his leg. You managed to catch them both asleep on the couch, Viktor on top of Jayce and after placing a blanket on them, you snapped the picture that to this day is your lock screen wallpaper.

Though lacking in knowledge of the sciency techy part of these two’s work, you are able to contribute in ways that the boys appreciate, even if they forget to say it. One of the biggest contributions being the treats you bake and bring for them.

Some of which you are carrying now, some muffins and cookies with sandwiches as well, you found that sandwiches would be the best choice as they won’t need heating up and the boys can just grab one quickly. 

”Darling, you know you don’t have to bring us food all the time” Viktor says.

”It’s alright Vitya, I love making them for you two, I don’t want you to die of starvation”

”HEY, we eat food-” Jayce chimes in from behind you.

With a quicK turn of the head and a slap to his bicep you interfere, “Talis, cereal and cup noodles are NOT a good source of daily nutrients for heaven’s sake”

Feigning being hurt Jayce clutches his arm and dramatically falls back, “OWwww how you wound meee oh nooo I might dieeeee” 

You roll your eyes and hear Viktor’s chuckle, “And don’t even get me started on you Viktor, you need to get some more rest, your eyebags grow everyday, I might come back and you’ve become a raccoon!”

”Alright alright mom, we’ll get some sleep and eat but first” Jayce grabs the container of food and sets it on the table, then picks you up at the same time, earning a yelp from you.

”JAYCE PUT ME DOWN!” You fight, thrashing against his arms.

”Nope!” He laughs, before heading towards the couch where Viktor watched, amused, “Bedroom?” Jayce asks, to which Viktor gets a glint in his eyes, “Why not it’s been a while hasn’t it?”

”Guys! I just made those cookies an hour ago!”

Viktor laughs and takes the container of goodies from the table, “Guess they’ll be coming with us then”

With that, Jayce and Viktor head to the door out of the garage and head upstairs to Jayce and Viktor’s shared bedroom, where Jayce lets Viktor get situated on the bed first and then places you gently on the bed.

“You take such good care of us darling, let us take care of you” Viktor whispers in your ear, before grabbing your chin and gently kissing you while Jayce peppers soft kisses on your neck.

”Now just relax darling, and let us do the rest of the work”

Oh thanks for reading the 2 am ramblings of a coping depresso espresso bean that is me. This is me trying to get back into writing fics so it might be meh...But anyways enjoy you Jayvik lovers! Please do comment and send an ask if you'd like to see more/ what you want me to try and write hehe 🫡(Will probably be starting to write the stuff in this post I made before lol)

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 4

I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.

We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.

He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.

Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.

Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.

He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.

He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.

Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.

Eds.

Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.

Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.

But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.

The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.

He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.

But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.

He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.

****

Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.

Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.

Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.

He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.

He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.

On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.

“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”

Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.

“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.

Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”

“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.

Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”

“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.

He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.

He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.

Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”

“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”

“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”

Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.

“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”

The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”

Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.

“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”

A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”

The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.

“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.

****

Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.

The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”

Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”

About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.

Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”

Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.

A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.

He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.

He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.

A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.

Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.

The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.

The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.

“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.

“Give that back,” he huffed.

Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”

Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.

“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.

Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.

He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@fullpoetrybread @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

[silentmoths]

Acts of Service

The voices are still whispering and @dustofthedailylife may or may not have implanted some brainrot as we both sat and mutually gushed about how blade is a misunderstood wet dog of a man.

Blade x Reader (gn, no actual gender mentioned)

SFW, fluff and Comfort ig...honestly I dont really knoww hat to tag this one as other than just...my own ramblings abt how blade isnt just a bloodthirsty killer just LOOK AT HIM PLEASE- Not proofread, 1.2K words

When asked about Blade, most everyone would reply that he is cold, standoffish and intimidating. He looks like the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to end you if you accidentally put pickles on his burger.

The Stellaron Hunters would say otherwise; sure, he looks intimidating, but he’s actually a calm, thoughtful guy. The kind of man who, after several years of living with solely women, doesn’t even question when Silver Wolf, Kafka or Firefly ask him if he can go to the store, he already knows, hell- half the time, he’s already got what they need, and if he doesn't? He knows what they want before they even say it. 

He’s more attentive than people give him credit for, like a cat, lingering in the corner, but keeping watch over his territory and those he has deemed ‘his’ people. A wallflower some might say…just...one that would occasionally lash out if he deemed someone’s presence unworthy or unwelcome.

He is far sweeter than people believe, the rumours about his bloodthirsty and violent nature, and the bounty to match only serving to cover up the man beneath, the man he keeps out of the public eye the most.

Because for you? For you, he’s never been anything but attentive and kind.

He would never say it, but everything he does for you screams the lengths he would go, he would move mountains for you, destroy planets, solar systems, entire galaxies if he had to. 

It was in how he touched you; bandaged fingers always always careful, no matter how many times you assured him that you were not made of glass. It wasn't fear, you think, that kept him in this state, more like a reverence, like he was a child, and you were his most precious treasure, something he would not, or could not dare break, fold or crease. 

It was the way he always leaned his head down whenever you spoke to him, not condescending, but acknowledging. Even if his eyes were elsewhere, he always makes a point to let you know he’s listening. He takes your suggestions to heart always, he listens to your woes, sometimes he will offer words of encouragement, and sometimes he will offer his sword, if that was what would rid you of your problem faster.

(you had yet to take him up on the offer of the sword)

It was the way he cooked, despite seldom eating himself. He claims that food is simply nutrients for his body, and when he eats for himself, it is almost always something plain and easy to procure…but if he had deemed it long enough that you, or the other’s had gone without, he would rise from the couch and cook a meal that was far more complex, he was a surprisingly good cook, Xianzhou cuisine etched into his muscle memory to the point you’re sure he could make some of these dishes with his eyes closed…and yet it was only ever for you, for the girls, for literally anyone he cared enough for but himself, that he would showcase this ability for. 

You knew he struggled with memory, with himself, with his past and his present. He never verbally acknowledged it, and you think it’s because he doesn’t want you to worry; but you worry anyway, because it’s Blade, and with all the time and care he puts into you and the other Stellaron Hunters, you think he deserves that much. 

He’s far fonder of physical touch than he lets on. He claims he cares little, but the fact he seemingly physically cannot fall asleep unless he’s holding something close to his chest states otherwise. In the privacy of his own quarters with you, it’s rare that you part. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, Blade wants to be a part of it, no matter how big or small. Reading? You find yourself pulled into his lap as he leans against the wall, working on something? There’s usually a hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapped around your waist.

He liked to bite on occasion too. Nothing wholly terrible…a love language with no words. The soft nibbling of teeth along your shoulder as he holds you, or the way he would timetimes lift your hand, just to bite down onto it- this could could mean a thousand different things that he couldn’t say; ’I missed you’.

’Don’t be gone so long, next time.’

’I love you.’

You don’t need to know the exact meaning, his presence, and the act in itself was enough.

Blade liked to claim his body was nothing but a weapon, he did not understand why you saw attraction in it, but he doesn’t stop you either as you carefully unbind the bandages to see him properly. 

Nor does he realise that the scars littering his body are far more sensitive than he gave them credit for. Each scar was a story, but a story lost to the mara; his memory too foggy to discern most all of them.

All but one.

His chest, the large, jagged scar that took up near all the space of his right pectoral, long, long since healed over, but still visible. Slightly redder than the rest of his skin, pulled tight, especially just over his heart. You knew, of course, about Dan Feng, about why Blade hunted his reincarnation, but to see the scar made something twist in your gut.

Slowly, you reach out to brush your fingers along the centre, for a brief moment you feel Blade’s rabbiting heartbeat before the man lurches- his hand gripping your wrist like a vice, the pressure only growing stronger as he scowls, you gasp out as you feel your bones creak.

And just like that, the pressure lifts, the wild, frenzied look in his one visible eye fades and you see the rare flicker of concern as he hunches, his hand no longer squeezing, but cradling your wrist as his other arm comes to brace against your back. He looks horrified with himself, at what he’d done. 

“I-” He chokes out after a long moment of just…staring. “I didn’t-” 

You know, you know he didn’t mean it. You weren’t upset; perhaps a little spooked yes, but not upset. Scars held pain long thought healed, yet no matter how faded, they could still sting.

“It’s ok.” you whisper, lifting your other hand to brush some of his bangs out of the way, catching a rare glimpse of his usually covered eye. He looked like a kicked puppy, like he was expecting you to toss him out in the rain. 

You could never.

You don’t need to say anything else, knowing too much reassurance would only lead to Blade second guessing things, so you content yourself with pressing your uninjured hand to his cheek and smiling. Watching as Blade leans down and quietly presses kiss after kiss along the wrist he’d nearly snapped.

It was in these acts of service that he showed he truly cared.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y @queen-belial Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[enavstars]

Cyberpunk au

RGB designs for a new au

Important things:

The inspiration for this was the game Stray (that I finally played).

This is a hyperfixation that I don't know when it's going to end. I'll probably draw things from it as much as my motivation lets me but don't expect it to be a constant thing like Eclipse or On the road.

I love worldbuilding so there is a lot of details of this au already, feel free to ask questions.

The world is dark and very corrupted but the tone of the au is chill because the sibs dgaf about the world.

Worldbuilding details (my friend wrote this because this is complicated and I suck at writing) [very long text under the cut]:

The key element of this AU’s worldbuilding is a new biohazardous artificial plant which was originally genetically engineered by the scientist of the RGB’s city-state to fight the air pollution that plagued the region by attempting to reduce the amount of CO2 from the atmosphere (yes this is a biopunk universe :)). However, because they are an ugly reddish colour, have a bitter taste and are extremely nutrient-deficient and unhealthy, they have no natural predators and can spread like wildfire across both fertile plots and forests like weeds. On top of that, due to that nutrient deficiency, which stems from the slow absorption ability of their roots (not nearly enough to keep the heavy rate of photosynthesis), they evolved on their own to attach themselves to other living beings as parasites and basically invaded the entire area around the metropolis. With them being potentially lethal, this caused a massive problem that made the city panic; although they have plenty of weak points (like fire and a vulnerable immune system) and it takes them very long to get their roots to the rest of the body, their grip is so deep and strong that the only option is to remove the infected body part. So their special ability became a critical issue when the plants unexpectedly ended up liking animals better, and with them humans themselves, because they could carry them to other places and infest those too while still sucking the life out of them until they die (oopsie). Ultimately, with the lack of proper information on the parasites, and because the situation was handled very poorly overall, they ended up taking many people’s lives and made the most vulnerable species of the area (like cattle) go endangered or extinct, which in turn altered the balance of the ecosystem and the working class’ means of living :).

Sorry this chunk was so technical, we (@kaigoesbrr and I) are biology nerds, but basically the plants were so good at making more oxygen and so ass at getting what they needed to do so that they became parasites, and now they get what they need from plants and animals (and they like animals better, like humans, because they have more stuff and help them spread further). Then society collapsed :).

All of this caused a deep economic crisis that brought about high rates of poverty, and with it, a deep fear of the infested world outside the city walls. So this whole conundrum led to the city closing off to the lands around it, implementing absurd levels of security like a tight border control and a slower, more strict business traffic, and making a huge dark translucent dome that encapsulates the whole city to keep any potential smuggled plants from ever growing by blocking the natural sunlight. They even made a ditch around their walls (kind of like a moat) and burnt and bombed the fields and suburbs around them to make them extremely infertile. So yeah, this city-state is a terrible place to live, a gloomy prison where not even the sun and stars can be seen, but most the inhabitants never leave out of that paranoid terror and the heavy bureaucracy needed to just go outside and touch grass.

(haha with poor funding corrupt scientists who didn’t know what they were doing made a mess, shocker how that would backfire horribly).

However, the outside isn’t as bad as they make it out to be. In the end, the plants did clean the air as they were supposed to, and, as nature does, it did somewhat recover from the disaster to where human life is now sustainable again.

Taking advantage of their thick crust, trees were the least affected by the plague, and the other plants in the forest developed new natural defences against the parasites, which was yet another reason why they in turn became best at infecting animals. And many of the fungi, abundant in the now more humid forest (haha cooler air equals more rain), took advantage of their weak immune system (due to their fucking incompetent creators making a mess of the original plant’s DNA) and infected them (haha scammer get scammed). So basically, the fields and farmlands were lost to the people, but the forests are still intact. Also, even though one of the rivers around the city, the one which makes its ways under it and is therefore connected to the water supply and sewer systems, is trashed, the other, which is further away, is now perfectly healthy due to the city closing off and therefore leaving it alone for enough time. The real issue here lies within the actual government, which obviously does not want to expose how corrupt and lazy they are when dealing with problems and so they keep fueling the paranoia of their most vulnerable citizens since they are kids :). One way they do so is by manipulating the information their people get, claiming bullshit like “the current ecosystem is wild and polluted, it cannot offer our economy anything anymore!” and “the plants are dangerous and will kill you if you ever come into contact with them, and they have infected virtually every living thing around!”. Another is by not educating their population about “the Outside”, treating it like a sort of taboo. Therefore, they refuse to explain, or hush those who try to, the actual danger of the plants and how to deal with them (they do have many weaknesses, after all).

But the people in this world have yet another nasty problem. In this AU there are beings believed to be anthropomorphic demons due to their pointy ears, fangs, and sometimes strange behaviour. But in fact, these people are descendants of the dragons that once lived in these nations, but their origins were forgotten as the world gradually lost touch with its spirituality and ancestry, and now those who were once revered for their “godlike attributes” (yes, they kinda worshipped dragons, I mean, who wouldn’t) are today facing discrimination. However, even though they aren’t considered exactly “people”, the pure humans are still kind of afraid of them, so they usually choose the subtler kind of racism. In most governments, “Demons” get less job opportunities and are denied high positions, can be freely banned from any establishment, and face unmatched prejudice just for existing, especially those with a stronger blood relation with their ancestry. In the city, they are treated as less than even the robots (nindroids of all kinds), who are treated like any other respected social group by now because they have grown so advanced that most of them are just like humans in metal armour. In fact, many of them are mechanics, who are held in high esteem for making the many bionic implants for the humans.

And all of that combined made the RGB siblings (who are obviously demons, especially Lloyd), decide never to leave the Outside, where they grew up, to go live in the city.

When they were younger, Kai and Nya adopted Lloyd when they found him asleep in a box in the middle of nowhere, after having been abandoned themselves a few years earlier. This time, though, their dynamic in this AU is more of a team than Kai being a mom to them both like he always is, so even if Kai feels the most responsible for being the eldest sibling, they rely on each other almost equally. They fend off the plants that threaten them with fire (no they do not have powers, but Kai uses a fucking flamethrower because it’s Kai), and usually live on whatever they can find in the wild: mostly by making traps for game, fishing in the cleaner river and occasionally foraging edible plats (that’s more risky and they are more carnivorous anyway). Also, Nya routinely strolls through the ruins of the suburbs to collect scrap junk to turn as much of it as she can into useful trinkets, the rest of which she sells to Ed and Edna’s junkyard and their son, who is an amateur mechanic (wink wink but no shipping actually). Apart from that though, they usually sneak into the metropolis to cause a bit of mayhem here and there, which over time and on top of the fear over their species has earned them a reputation of People You Don't Wanna Mess With (or "Demons", more like). More than once they’ve even messed with a few of the gangs around town, which started sprouting up after the disaster, so overall their presence in the city is tolerated, but frowned upon. They manage to bypass the annoying border control thanks to the faulty assistant robot who raised them, named Echo (wink wink), who cannot perform any other social job (what he was made for) than to be the ferryman for those few people who decide to cross the wide moat and venture out into the Outside. They usually take a secret tunnel that a few smugglers managed to make, and the Guard do nothing because they do not give a fuck about demons anyway (in fact, only a few people know that their actual names aren’t Red, Blue and Green because nobody gives a fuck indeed). They do actually know a few people there, some of whom are also demons (like Mistake and Ronin), but especially as kids (which is when the story starts) they spend most of their time in the wild chilling and going on adventures :³.

(no the city and the plants are not named, we’re lazy :))

Anyway this is what I'll say for now. There's a lot more info, and hopefully drawings, coming. Hope you like this au because I love it for now ^^

(Btw let me know if you want me to make a post/reblog explaining the designs for the Rgb siblings and some info behind them)

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Beel and mc first date short fic ✨

Our sweet boy Beel deserves all the love <3 Let's gooooo!

Characters: Beel x MC Sharing food as a love language, pure fluff. Did first kiss too, I hope that's okay! No warnings apply

This was a joke, right?  

You were seeing things. You had to be seeing things. 

There was in no way in all the three realms that Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony and Ruler of the Underworld, had just placed half of his gigadeath burger on your plate.  

Half. 0.5. ½.  

You weren’t sure his stomach could handle such deprivation! He was a growing demon! He needed his nutrients! 

“What?” Beel paused his chewing, burger grease dripping down his fingers and onto the checkered parchment paper on the tray before him. “You’re not hungry?” 

Eyes flitting from the burger - the frankly delicious burger oozing premium molten mozzarella, the cheese mingling with the juice pooling from the sizzling meat patty - to his concerned gaze, you wiped the drool from the corner of your lip and shook your head. “It’s not that. It’s just… Don’t you want your whole burger?” 

It was cute, the way he cocked his head to the side. His fiery hair fell into his eyes for a moment, his slow blink drawing your attention to his dark eyelashes. Your heart stuttered in your chest when he lifted his shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “I want you to try it. It’s really good.”

“Are you sure?” Your devil nuggets called your name from their carton next to your soda. They were tasty, sure, but that burger looked like something else.

“Yeah,” He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you think we were only coming here tonight?”

The taste flooding your tongue - savory and salty with a crunch from the fixings cradled between two soft buns - was so overwhelming, you didn’t register his words. You were too busy relishing in the richness of the burger as it traveled down your throat and to your stomach, warming you from the inside out. It didn’t even bother you that the patty was probably made from some weird Devildom animal that you would usually find unappetizing. The burger was too good to care.

Realization struck you like lightning from above. “Wait, what?”

It was not lost on you how Beel’s indigo gaze traced the tip of your tongue as you licked at the residual taste on your lips. Something unreadable lanced through his irises. Suddenly, it was awfully hard to meet his eyes, your heart firmly lodging itself in your throat. 

Lazily nibbling on his last acidic hell fry, he suggested, “Want to have a campfire?”

“A campfire?” You echoed, ducking your head when you became self-conscious of your dumb expression.

His mind made up, he toweled off his greasy fingers and stood, the stool screeching against the wooden floors of Hell’s Kitchen. “Yeah,” Determination as sharp as his jaw set his brow into a deep furrow. “Come with me.”

Keeping up with Beelzebub on the hunt for food was easier than you had expected. Looming over most demons, his long legs gave him the ability to cover impressive distance with each step. However, you found it wasn’t difficult to wander the streets of the Devildom at his side. Maybe it was the way he moved slowly, with intention, as if he was trying to commit every second of this night to his memory. Maybe it was his big heart, always so considerate of those he cared about. 

Maybe he was looking out for you, just as you always looked out for him. There was a reason you kept snacks on your person at all times, after all. 

It had come as a surprise when Beel had requested your attendance for an impromptu dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. You had been drowning in homework, the sharp knock on your bedroom door startling you from your third attempt to actually absorb the words on the page in front of you. 

“Hey, dinner tonight?” He had asked, so casually as if it was any other day.

“Sure,” You had smiled.

“Cool,” He had beamed that dazzling Beelzebub grin that stretched wide across his face. The one where you could count all of his sharp teeth. The one that creased his eyes into crescent moons and made your stomach twist into a pretzel. “It’s a date.”

You were pretty sure it had taken you at least five minutes to process the bomb he had dropped on you upon his exit. Another fifteen to find a suitable outfit - casual and comfortable, but also nice, you know? And you couldn’t possibly discount the solid forty minutes spent worrying over whether he was joking or being serious. 

When he had met you in the entrance hall clad in his best jeans and a flattering, nice sweater, you felt the relief inflate your chest like a helium balloon. 

And really, you still felt like you were walking on air. Even as you stood in the snacks aisle of a Devildom bodega, shying away from the unflattering glare of overhead fluorescent lights as Beel rifled through foil packaging with an intensity that you long learned accompanied his hunger. 

He fought you tooth and nail at the register, amusement dancing upon his lips. “Why should you pay?”

“Because you bought dinner,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as if it would possibly make you more intimidating in the eyes of the 6’4” demon. 

“Hmmm,” he mulled over your argument for a millisecond, just to lean down and blow a raspberry in your face. He smirked, “Nope.”

It caught you off guard, your face burning as bright as a screaming tomato. Brattiness was usually Belphie’s expertise. 

Mischief melting into soft affection in his indigo gaze, fixed to you as the bodega clerk processed his payment, he ventured, “What if… you cover our next date?”

You liked the way the tips of his ears flushed, the way he rubbed the back of his neck and shot you a sheepish, albeit genuine, smile. 

“I think that would be fair.” A tickle spread across your cheeks, scrunching your nose and burning your skin. 

Though, the heat from your flush had nothing on the warmth of the flames lapping at the inky Devildom sky. The embers shot like fireflies reaching for the stars, the campfire crackling within the confines of the pit, lined by rocks that would dwarf even Beelzebub’s palm. It had come as a surprise when Beel had led you off the beaten path, guiding you to a clearing in a forest not too far from the House of Lamentation. However, the secret fire pit made a lot more sense when he explained that it was typically reserved for stargazing with Belphie. 

“Are those… rice krispie squares?” You asked, the pop of an adhesive seam wafting vanilla your way.

“They’re crackling mallow bars,” Beel corrected, though there was no judgment in his tone. He had this way of introducing you to Devildom cuisine in a manner that felt familiar, like he understood that there were a lot of similarities between the dishes you knew. “They’re made up of marshmallows and these crispy marrow bits that are caramelized and -”

“Do they taste sweet?” You suppressed a grimace at the unappetizing description.

He chucked, the sound oozing reassurance, “Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” As he retrieved two long sticks, splitting into sharp prongs at the tip, nostalgia hit you like a truck. You hummed, “I used to eat something like this all the time when I was little.”

He raised a brow. “You’re still little.”

“Very funny.”

He laughed. Peeling the wrapper from two treats, he secured both on the ends of the sticks. “Have you ever roasted them over a campfire?” 

“I never considered that. They would melt pretty fast, wouldn’t they?”

“You would think so,” He passed you a stick, eyes warm with encouragement and something akin to childlike awe, “But they actually hold up for a while.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Just you and Beel and the chirps of the hell crickets in the undergrowth. It was hard to pay attention to the way the sweet bars darkened, a char climbing up the chunks of… marrow, or whatever… when you could feel Beel’s eyes on you. 

When you met his gaze, he was ready, already pulling the snack from his stick. “Here, try this.”

The marshmallow near compromised, the dessert fell apart in his large hands. Beel’s fingers tangled in sticky sweetness, you gasped in delight as strings of sugar stretched towards you with his gesture. “Oh, it’s so gooey!” 

His smile was so big, so warm, and you had the sudden thought that if you were in Icarus’s shoes, you too would fly too close to the sun. He went to feed you the treat, laughing, “Open wide!”

The explosion of flavor on your tongue - hot and sweet with that smoky campfire accent - had you squirming in delight, a thrilled hum vibrating in your throat. You were grateful that Beel thought to remove your stick from the fire. You were far too occupied with your new favorite snack to notice it about to ignite. 

Beel’s laughter died, his brow furrowing as conflict eclipsed the joy in his gaze. You looked to him, confused. “What?”

Had he always been that close? Had he been watching you with such longing this entire time?

“You’ve got a bit of marshmallow…” His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, eyes zeroing in on your lips. “Can I?”

You nodded. Your mouth was so dry, your pulse in your ears. With his nose nudging yours, you could taste the sweetness of the marshmallow treat on his breath, feel the way you were drawn closer like sticky sugar insistent on holding you together. 

His lips brushed yours - soft and chaste. It was funny how a kiss so gentle could hold so much weight. Featherlight, a tender brush, and yet you felt as though the prints of his lips were engraved on yours forevermore. 

“Mmm, tastes extra good,” he breathed, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs smoothed over your skin, his eyes reading your soul as you leaned in to kiss him again. A peck to his lips, to his nose, to the apples of his cheeks.  

“What are you thinking about?” You murmured, reveling in his proximity, his radiant warmth. 

“Trying all my favorite foods off your lips,” He smiled, the twitch of his lips slotting against yours with such ease. “Think we could try that?”

“Sure,” You laughed, “It’s a date.”

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

this is low-key a love letter to burgers. My requests are open! Find more info HERE. Banner by @4laurus. Check out her work - and also her Beel.

[hyperlexichypatia]

Prescriptive diet culture, especially (but not exclusively) the sort aimed at losing weight, is ableist and sizeist, with frequent undertones of racism, classism, and sexism. It relies on the premise that all bodies can and should fit into a certain size and a certain range of “health” and ability, that fat and disabled bodies are inherently lesser, and frequently relies on patronizing or limiting the options of poor people for their alleged “own good,” stigmatizing or patronizing the food choices of non-European cultures, and judging women’s and perceived-women’s bodies more harshly than men’s bodies.

In response to this, various fat liberation, body positive, and health-at-every-size movements have arisen to challenge this narrative to varying degrees. One of the alternatives often promoted in these contexts is “intuitive eating,” in which people eat what their bodies crave, whenever they’re hungry, instead of following a prescriptive diet or schedule. This is framed as radical, liberatory rebellion and self-actualization against diet culture.

Intuitive eating is great for some people. However, there are some problems with promoting it as a universal solution.

First of all, “Everyone should eat intuitively” is just as prescriptive as any other prescriptive diet. It still frames food choices as something with a right and a wrong answer. What superficially sounds like “Eat whatever you want” actually becomes “You must eat whatever you want, and examine carefully whether you actually want it, and defend your choices accordingly.”

Secondly, intuitive eating is fundamentally inaccessible to the majority of the world’s population. Perhaps if we lived in a Star Trek universe where we could just command a replicator to create food and have it instantly ready for us, then most, if not all people, could eat intuitively. But in our own world, our food choices are constrained by time, money, and availability, as well as restrictions like allergies and sensitivities.

When I think about what food I want to eat, I have to think about what I already have. What I can afford to buy. What I have the time and energy to prepare. I might “intuit” that I crave a steak, but what I have readily on hand is a bowl of cereal. Intuition won’t help someone with chronic fatigue who can’t stand at a stove for long or chop vegetables, or someone on food stamps who has to stretch their budget, or someone who works long shifts and comes home exhausted, or a parent of three children with food allergies who only feeds themself leftover scraps from feeding them. Who has time and energy to cook a meal from scratch? Who has money to go out to a restaurant? Whose invisible and underpaid labor -- farm workers, grocery workers, restaurant cooks, homemakers -- does this system rely upon?

The third problem with promoting intuitive eating as a universal solution is that many foods are manufactured in such a way as to sensorily mislead the eater about their properties. The idea that “artificial” or “processed” foods are somehow “worse” than “natural” foods -- or that those are meaningful categories -- is ridiculous and baseless. However, it is a fact that many foods are made to mimic the look, taste, smell, and texture of foods they do not actually contain. This makes it harder for eaters to “intuit” a food’s properties by the usual means. Eaters may have to rely on ingredients lists and nutritional information rather than sensory input alone. This is especially true for people who have specific nutritional needs, like allergies or nutrient deficiencies, to either avoid or seek out specific food attributes.

Finally, even if all other obstacles were eliminated, some people are just not good at intuiting their own food needs. People with executive functioning disabilities may forget that they’re hungry, or not recognize their bodies’ hunger signals. Not everyone is naturally good at piloting a meat suit. Food is difficult, and it’s okay to need external reminders to refuel.

Intuitive eating rhetoric can sound suspiciously similar to the common rhetoric of the “natural” “wellness” movement, stemming from the premise that all bodies are born with a natural alignment to a certain standard of “health” and normative ability, and only external factors and individual choices can “corrupt” it. In reality, there are no normative bodies or abilities. Plenty of people are born with food-related disabilities, whether difficulty remembering to eat, anxiety, susceptibility to nutrient deficiency, allergies, diabetes, or all kinds of other conditions. Food is hard. Harder for some people than others. And that’s okay.

There’s nothing wrong with intuitive eating, but it’s not a universal solution to everyone’s food difficulties. We need affordable, accessible food for everyone. We need everyone to have the free time and support they need to perform all activities of daily living. We need living wages for everyone at every part of the food supply chain. We need clearly labeled food ingredients and nutritional values. We need a society where everyone has the resources, time, and support to eat whatever they want, and the information to know what they’re eating. And then, maybe, intuitive eating can be a more attainable goal for people who want it.

We also need a society in which bodily autonomy is respected, and people’s food choices and other health and bodily choices are rightly regarded as no one else’s business. We need widespread recognition that there’s no standard of health or ability that anyone “should” have and no way that anyone “should” eat, and that what matters is ensuring that everyone has equitable access to resources, which each individual can choose how to use, whether that’s eating frozen dinners every day, growing vegetables for fun, eating only purple things, or using a timer to remember when it’s time to eat. But until we achieve that society, “intuitive eating” might as well mean “let them eat cake.”

[psiroller]

in which chilchuck tries to get some but ends up a sucker to his caretaker instinct once again

i just wanted to write something where chilchuck unironically indulges laios' hyperfixation, lol. im folding this into something larger but it kind of stands on its own for now, so here.

“Hey,” Chilchuck slurred. An arm crawled around Laios’ shoulder, stirring him from his reading. “What are you doing up? It’s my shift.”

“Just research,” Laios replied cheerily. His eyes were drawn back to the book and away from Chilchuck, something that elicited a soft huff of irritation. “I’ll still be good to take over for you. I’m kind of wound up, you know? Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah,” Chilchuck snickered, his hand brushing across Laios’ chest with just a bit too much pressure to be purely friendly. “I’ve been wound up, too.”

Laios met Chilchuck’s lascivious gaze with concern. “Are you starving yourself again? You wouldn’t have such bad insomnia if you ate well.”

“I got wine, there’s nutrients in that,” Chilchuck giggled, giving Laios’ tit a fond pat. Laios smelled the drink on his breath and the hair on his neck stood on end.

“On an empty stomach? Chil…” “What you getting worked up for? I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.”

Laios’ brows furrowed. Chil stared up at him, waiting for him to back down, and the smug smirk only widened when he didn’t.

“You gonna force-feed me or something? I didn’t take you as into that kind of thing.” “Knowing how depraved you are, you’d enjoy it if I did.” Chilchuck scoffed. “Oh, yeah, you’re one to talk—”

Laios closed his book. “You’re being reckless,” he declared, in that know-it-all leader tone. Rarely used—Laios hated using it—but terse enough for Chilchuck to tilt his head and shut his mouth for a minute. Not long enough.

“Being a little tipsy doesn’t mean my eyes and ears don’t work,” Chilchuck groaned, pulling away and slumping onto the next step up from the one he was perched on.  “It’s not my job to fight them anyway. All I gotta do is throw the bottle at your head and I’ve done my part.” “I’m not talking about the party, Chil.”

Chilchuck shrunk away from Laios and crossed his arms.

“When did you become such a nag?” Chilchuck groaned. “I’m older than you. I know my limits.”

Laios turned from his seat on the floor, rising on his knees, invading Chilchuck’s space. He braced his arms on either side of Chilchuck’s lap.

“Do I have to say why?” Laios rumbled. “If you don’t want me to care, stop making passes at me.”

Chilchuck clucked his tongue. “Didn’t have to hit on you to get you to take a few quills to the back for my bony ass.” “So much for never talking about that again.”

Chilchuck grinned. Laios’ eye twitched, knowing that Chil knew he’d taken the bait. Chilchuck reached up to cup Laios’ face; Laios let him, unfortunately.

“You can relax, big guy,” Chilchuck said, and the softness in his voice made Laios deflate all at once. “I got by just fine until you hired me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to believe you,” Laios murmured. Chilchuck could feel the muscles of his jaw working as he spoke, the weight of his heavy tallman skull in his palms. “I do. But you don’t know—" “I’m fine,” Chilchuck asserted. “What’s got you so…?”

He stopped, bit his tongue. Laios looked up at him with those insufferable, upturned puppy dog eyes, deep amber in the low firelight, and he remembered. Chilchuck let out a long-suffering sigh, stroked up his cheek into Laios’ hair and scratched his scalp.

“We got this,” Chilchuck said. “It’ll be alright.” Laios slumped forward into Chilchuck’s lap, thick jaw slamming down onto his legs like a harpsichord lid, and Chilchuck squawked. Laios turned his face into the loose-fitting, threadbare slacks Chilchuck normally wore to bed, sucking in a long breath that made his back rise and then letting it all out through his nose. It reminded Chilchuck of Leed’s wargs after a good dinner, resting their big, wrinkly heads on any friendly knee and whining for attention.

Chilchuck scratched at his sideburns. He knew propositioning Laios would be risky in the dungeon, but this wasn’t the kind of disaster he’d envisioned if it went wrong. His hand came to rest on Laios’ back, and he rubbed it along the length of Laios’ spine. Laios’ broad body sunk that much further into his lap. Chilchuck’s calves were going numb, but he held deathly stll, as if he’d scare Laios off. As if he didn’t want to scare Laios off and get out of this mess.

“We’ll find Falin,” Chilchuck said. “We did it before, and we’ll do it again.” Neither of them believed it, really, but it was a nice thought. Maybe if they chanted it enough a spell would be cast. No mana sickness yet; they’d have to keep at it.

“I’m pretty confident about that,” said Laios, muffled in Chilchuck’s legs. His breath puffed warm on his thighs in short, controlled breaths. “But if we do and we don’t get her, if the Mad Mage takes care of us, then—it’s not just Falin, anymore.”

Chilchuck’s breath caught. His fingers curled in Laios’ shirt and tugged fitfully. Laios didn’t budge.

“She used to be all I had, you know.” Laios hugged Chilchuck’s pins-and-needles calves, which further trapped him but also returned some level of blood flow. Small blessings. Chilchuck wished he were dead. “That was fine. It was—better that way. Less to worry about. Then I found a nice girl, and I proposed—"

“Wait, what?”

“—she was so cute, so nice to me, but when my father said Falin would have to leave, I couldn’t just leave my little sister to rot somewhere, so—I broke it off. It didn’t matter, if I could earn enough money and Falin would be okay—”

Try faking a heart attack. You have the plausible deniability. “He… sent Falin away?” He was dimly aware of Marcille and Falin having met at magic school. “You were supporting her?”

“—but I didn’t even—need to. She was happy where she was. And I still—I still dragged her here, let her get eaten, let the Mad Mage take her. What kind of brother—”

Chilchuck gripped the back of Laios’ skull and pulled at his hair, not enough to move him, but enough to shut him up. He let go and ruffled it instead, soothing out the tension in his scalp. Laios melted, limbs melting to the stone tunnel floor.

“I see why you’ve been so wound up,” Chilchuck said. “You’ve just been sitting here and spiraling. Are you even reading that book?”

Laios squeezed Chilchuck’s legs to his chest. “Not really. I’m looking at the words but I’m not… retaining anything.”

That’s bad. “Let me see it.” Laios looked up at Chilchuck with confusion, then distrust. “Please?” That only confused Laios further, but he lifted the worn old tome from the floor for Chilchuck to take.

“Dragons of the Eastern Archipelago,” Chilchuck read out. “Another cookbook, eh?”

The jocular tone whiffed right past Laios’ ears. “It’s… not really research,” he admitted. Chilchuck thumbed through the pages—there were many detailed technical sketches of long-bodied, short-limbed dragons with horsehair and deer antlers, strange boggling eyes and stretched lips. More impressionistic doodles filled the margins, with scrawled-circle eyes and jagged teeth, little flared scratches of the broad side of a pencil representative of dragon fire. Their fat snake bodies had wobbly, uneven sides and sloppily looping scales—but some were a little more distinguishable as a dragon than others.

“Ah.” Chilchuck cleared his throat. “Nothing wrong with a little light reading, I guess.” He tried on a smile. “The, uh, pictures are nice.” “I kept telling Falin that long don’t breathe fire,” Laios said, voice tight, “but she kept saying it would be cooler if they did.” “That’s what they’re called? Longs? Seems kind of on-the-nose.”

That managed to get a laugh out of Laios, but it sounded more exasperated than anything. “It’s just one of the native words used for them, but it’s not Shuro’s language, apparently. The word he uses is ryu.”

“I haven’t seen anydragons other than red and green. Maybe it’s just the dungeons I’ve been to.” Chilchuck said. He winced, realizing he’d just stumbled over a lecture topic, but Laios stayed folded across his lap, seemingly having gotten comfortable there, and stayed quiet. The silence made Chilchuck’s hair bristle. Chilchuck nudged him, knuckles against Laios’ temple.

“C’mon, man, I set you up. Go on.” “Now you’re just making fun of me.” “Seriously, Laios. I really want to know this time, and you’re gonna sulk about it?”

Laios turned up from his lap to read Chilchuck’s face, though he never seemed to be able to get it right all the other times he’d attempted it. Chilchuck heaved a melodramatic sigh and patted Laios’ head, an action that lowered his hackles. It really shouldn’t have worked that easily, but Laios closed his eyes and hummed.

“There are… so many kinds,” Laios said dreamily. Dread began to creep in on Chilchuck’s charitable mood, but he’d talked himself into a corner. “They’re super adaptable. Pretty much anywhere you have a dungeon or an ecosystem robust enough to support one, you can find a dragon.”

“I’ve, uh, heard about white dragons. Furry ones, kind of like these guys, but with wings and the stocky body type. Never seen one, though, so it could have been bullshit.” “Oh, they’re real. Pretty common up north.” “Do they really breathe ice? How does that work?”

“Basically, yeah. It’s super-cooled air. They have huge lungs and a fuel organ like a red dragon, but instead of burning the waste matter inside, it liquefies it into a kind of slurry—” Chilchuck grimaced, but Laios was already talking with his hands and not measuring Chilchuck’s enthusiasm. “—that undergoes a rapid chemical reaction when exposed to the air the dragon exhales.”

“Huh.” Chilchuck absently stroked the back of Laios’ neck. Laios squirmed, but didn’t complain. He slipped out of his kneeling position to sit flatter against the wall, head still flopped over Chilchuck’s lap but looking outward toward the fire. The angle looked uncomfortable, so Chilchuck dropped a step lower, letting Laios slide over just a bit more, lay more solidly in Chilchuck’s lap. Laios’ ears had turned red. “Y’know, I always just figured magic did it. I never knew any of the biology until I met you.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong for thinking that way,” Laios half-shrugged. “They wouldn’t exist without some kind of mana source, so they’re still a product of magic. But to sustain the kind of huge, complex bodies dragons have on mana alone would starve the ecosystem, so they have to develop organs and bones to keep them upright and moving to serve their purpose.”

“To destroy whatever enters their lair?”

“To survive.”

“Same as the rest of us, then.”

Laios hummed. Chilchuck’s wrists had begun to hurt from holding the book, so he propped it up on the crown of Laios’ skull. He didn’t seem to mind.

“So what’s this big pearl they keep drawing the long dragon with?” Chilchuck asked, even though the answer was right beneath it, indicated helpfully in a list of figures.

“Oh, that’s an egg, believe it or not.”

“No kidding.”

“Dragon clutches start out pretty big, but because of how demanding the hatchlings are, most of them don’t survive to adulthood. Some species of dragon choose a ‘favorite’ out of their eggs to focus on and raise instead…”

Chilchuck smiled into the palm of his hand as Laios rambled, flipping through the book to keep his eyes open as Laios talked, listening as the spaces between words grew and his tangents unspooled, dissolving into dreamlike nonsense. The weight of Laios’ head got heavier in Chilchuck’s lap until the static crept back in, but Chilchuck had no intention of moving him anymore. It was well past the scheduled watch shift change by the time Laios began to softly snore, but Chilchuck didn’t rouse him.

[physalian]

On eating your “Realism” cake and having it too

Inspired by another post I didn't want to hijack twice.

TL;DR, people are able to suspend their disbelief for many things, but once you invite them to start questioning things, if you have not done the groundwork, your lore might fall apart.

Example I love to use is Cars to Cars 2.

People were not nitpicking how car society works after Cars. It’s a kids movie about anthropomorphic vehicles, and for the most part, it kind of made sense. The courthouse in Radiator Springs was built for vehicles, Doc was a “doctor” but really a fancy mechanic, and the plot was about cars racing, doing car things.

Yeah you could wonder things like, how did they build the buildings? Why do they have both sentient aircraft (the helicopter and blimp) but also planes being piloted by cars (the flyover of the jets above the big race)? But these were negligible background details that didn’t matter to the plot.

Cars didn’t have to be ‘realistic’ and wasn’t pretending to be.

Cars 2 was when people got all up in arms nitpicking the hell out of every little thing, because in this movie, zero thought was given to the worldbuilding beyond “idk it’s earth but with humans instead of cars” except now it matters to the plot.

Why is Mater able to eat wasabi? Why does wasabi exist? Why is there a car pope? Why is there a car queen? How do cars have parents? What was the point of that one car with their eyes in the headlights? Are sentient battleships born or made into a life of combat? Are all commercial planes forced to be pack mules for their whole existence? How does the car class system work? Why do lemons exist?

All of this taking away from the grand prix plot that made much more sense for the universe, instead of the spy movie. Now, to try and solve the mystery and engage with the story, we have to think about all those incongruous details. All those details, the car queen and car pope would have been funny background gags if the movie was just about the grand prix.

It’s still a kids movie, but now with all these details that don’t add up and cannot be ignored. Cars could be enjoyed by everyone. Cars 2 was made for money kids who weren’t supposed to think about all that.

—

If you as the author and your story take the tone of “this is for fun don’t think too hard” people will have a good time if they’re entertained and anyone who nitpicks can be met with, well, Dead Dove: What did you expect? It’s exactly what it says on the tin.

You can absolutely make shit up as you go along. I read a book that had dinosaurs on Mars. Why? Because it’s fun. There was a tiny scientific explanation given, but the plot did not rest on how and why these dinosaurs exist on Mars. The story never asked the audience to consider logic, nor did it have its characters questioning the worldbuilding.

You do not have to be “realistic,” in that way, to be good.

But once you start bringing attention to the elephant in the room, you need to have done your homework.

So, example.

I have a novel in which the sun does not shine, permanently, across the entire northern hemisphere of earth. This is fantasy, not sci-fi.

Option one: Ignore all the catastrophic consequences of such an apocalypse. How it works, why it happened, all that noise does not matter to the plot or the characters. No one ever questions it, no one’s choices ever depend on it. It’s just a fun aesthetic choice, in the same way that animals can talk to humans in Disney movies and no one questions it. Why and how they can talk does not matter, only that they can and we are now entertained by Mushu’s antics.

Option two: Okay, so I’ve taken the sun away from half the planet. I now need to think about the following: How does that affect the weather for the other half? What happens to all the plants and animals that lived in the North? How would one survive in that wasteland without easy access to food? What food could grow there without sunlight? By what other means can I get nutrients for plants and animals without sunlight, so people can eat, so communities can exist?

I went with option two. The plot of the book is very much tied to this lack of sunlight and the hazardous environment the characters are stuck in. The characters are wondering how it works and how they can overcome it constantly. I did my homework, I gave them a way to survive and even thrive up there. I am thus calling this post-apocalyptic setting “realistic”.

It’s still fantasy, so my explanation is still “because magic”, where the sun isn’t gone it’s just being blocked by a big magic blanket, to put it simply, but the consequences are based in realism. That way, my audience can follow along and understand how the world works and anticipate why characters do the things they do in their environment.

So if a geologist or climatologist reads my book and goes “um actually” and they point out that I’m wrong, I have to own that. I have to say “yeah I didn’t consider that, it’s a good point, but I can’t change the manuscript so to enjoy the book, try not to think about it.”

What I cannot do is protest all criticisms of my “realism” by going “it’s fantasy you’re not supposed to take it seriously” while turning around and also saying how smart I am and how clever and authentic my worldbuilding is.

Can’t eat your realism cake and have it too.

And this is only talking about the lore. I haven’t even touched escapist fantasy relationships.

A more famous example: Gandalf’s magic in Lord of the Rings.

Have not read the books in a hot minute so I’m referencing the movies as I’m more familiar with them.

Gandalf is a wizard. He can do an unexplained number of spells pretty much as the plot demands. What he cannot do is never given a hard limit, which tends to break most magic systems.

And yet. “Why didn’t Gandalf save the day?” isn’t a question that destroys the story.

Gandalf is a shepherd, not the hero. He can lead the race of Men to water, but he can’t make them drink. If he came in and started forcing all the power-hungry men to sit down, shut up, and cooperate, what magic Gandalf can and cannot do would be paramount to understanding the story. He can only nudge people in what he thinks is the right direction, but the choice to act is up to them.

Which is pretty heavily implied throughout the films.

As for his magic, Gandalf both never wins without consequence, and isn’t an aggressive character who resorts to his magic at every turn.

He took down the Balrog, but the Balrog got him, too

He warded off the nazgul with the big light beam outside Minas Tirith, but a lot of Gondorian soldiers still died, and he didn’t do any damage to the fellbeasts

He likes fun times and magic tricks, like the fireworks, more than spells for combat

He’s forgetful, like with the password to the door of Moria

He is not all-powerful

All this means that in any life or death situation, the weight of the plot does not rest solely on his shoulders.

So Tolkein isn’t “realistic” in that he consulted physicists about every little thing, but he’s “realistic” in that all the worldbuilding decisions and lore realistically fit the story. The choices of the characters, the behaviors of the different kingdoms, the perspectives of the different races all make sense for the world they live in.

—

It is nearly impossible, as a lone writer, to cover every potential plot hole that a reader could point out. It’s fiction, after all, and sometimes characters make choices because that’s what’s entertaining and the other option of “just go home” or “X did this because they forgot Y” is not entertaining.

But if you have, say, the series that inspired this post, with a world where winter shows up when the plot demands and lasts for years, you can either say “eh that’s just a thing that happens, it’s not important I just thought it was neat and a cool setting” and people will shrug it off.

Or you can say “this is absolutely critical to the entire story and impacts every society within my world” but don’t do your homework on what those impacts are, people can and will call you out on it.

[darkbluekies]

Hello, could I request your oc's with a reader that refuses to eat?

Warnings: indication of ed in hedwigs part

Silas: 

He’ll tie you down to a chair in the kitchen and force feed you with a spoon as if you were a little baby. He’d feed you food that is easy to swallow and not a safety hazard, like soup. When the soup drips down your chin because you’re refusing to open your mouth, he’ll wipe it with his thumb before licking it away.

“Mm, baby, it’s a really tasty soup. Won’t you eat for me? I’m getting worried when you don’t eat, don’t you understand that? Hm? It’s okay, darling, don’t tremble so terribly. There’s nothing in the soup, I promise. Here, just a little taste, okay? Good job …”

Dr Kry:

He often deals with patients who refuse to eat. Some do it out of protests and some simply don’t want to … and some are scared. You? All three. Dr Kry’s latest behavior has put you off and made you wary of him. He’ll hold the fork to your lips, but you turn away your head and push away the plate. But unlike the other patients, he knows he has to be careful with you. Slightest wrongdoing might break you. 

“You’re making me worried. Why don’t you want to eat? Are you feeling okay? Do you need more medicine? Please eat a little. If you don’t get all the nutrients you need, I’ll have to get you on pills and medicine to make up for it … you don’t want that, do you, sweetheart? Thought so.”

King Edmund: 

He’ll be a bit offended. You’re offered the best meals possible by the greatest chefs in the kingdom … and you refuse to eat? How spoiled are you? But the anger will soon disappear and be replaced with worry once he sees how your eyes light up when the maids bring food and how you force yourself to look away. 

“My queen … you have a three course meal in front of you! Finest in the entire kingdom! You have to eat. If you don’t, I’m going to make you eat. Don’t you understand that? My dear, please look at me. I need you to understand that your health comes before all. If you don’t eat yourself, I’m going to feed you. I love you so much, my dear. I can’t stand to watch this. Open your mouth, I’m going to make sure you eat every single bite.”

Jerry: 

She’ll notice a change in your behavior right away. You won’t eat what she buys for you. She’ll come back at night, noticing that it’s still where she left it, all untouched. She’ll frown and ask you about it, but you won’t give her a proper answer. 

“This is ridiculous, Y/N. You haven’t eaten anything for three days! What are you trying to do? Prove something? Baby, you can drop the act and eat, it won’t work on me. Come on … eat. Y/N … stop doing that. Stop ignoring me! If you don’t eat this meal in an hour, I’m going to give your family a little visit and if you don’t want to be an orphan, you better eat. Got it? Good girl/boy.”

Hedwig: 

She’ll force you down into a chair in the dining room where you’ll find ten plates of different meals carefully made just for you. You’ll gulp and look at Hedwig for support, but she pushes your chair closer to the table. 

“I have noticed that you haven’t eaten. We can’t have that. I love you so much, I don’t want you to starve yourself. If you have any worries about food, please talk to me. I-I’ll take you to a specialist who’ll help you! I’ll make sure that those thoughts go away … I’ll feed you. I’ll reassure you, okay? Please just eat anything out of these plates. Anything, it doesn’t matter.”

[artist-issues]

It isn’t all the filmmaker’s fault that all we’re getting is second-rate remakes and sequels to franchises that should’ve been left alone a long time ago.

We don’t have a clear idea of why we like the things we like. So we don’t clearly communicate why we like the things we like. So it’s no wonder Hollywood keeps getting your favorite movies and their characters wrong. The fans don’t even know why they like what they like.

When Genie is set free in the original Aladdin, that moment was impactful, and you remembered it all through childhood. When Luke tosses the lightsaber away and says “I am a Jedi, like my father before me,” it was impactful, and you remembered it.

But did you stop and analyze why? What made those moments, and those stories, impactful?

Did you say, “Genie wished to be free for the whole movie, and he was always trying to tell Aladdin about how freedom only comes from trusting, and he was learning to trust Al himself, and Aladdin finally DID trust Jasmine to still want him even if he wasn’t rich, so he set Genie free in the most satisfying way!”

Did you say, “Luke spent all previous movies rushing into fights, and trying to control everything to save the ones he loves, but when he finally has his enemy at his mercy and is at the height of his power, he realizes that being a Jedi isn’t rushing and fighting and controlling; it’s having faith in the good and throwing your opportunity for control away.”

Did you think through and appreciate that stuff? The values? The point of the whole story, and how the characters act as pillars holding that point up? The good and the bad things that they embody?

No. Not out loud. Because we don’t think critically anymore. We just go “what’s this? Entertain me. Oooh, I felt something! Good! Next!”

The why behind what you like is the only value in liking anything.

But we don’t look objectively at the “why.” We don’t dwell on the “why.” If we dwell on anything, it’s to superimpose ourselves or whatever we like onto the characters.

You think Barbie was hyping feminism because you like feminism, and because you felt things during Barbie. You write fanfiction about Eddie Munson that has nothing to do with what Eddie Munson actually is as a character—because you like love stories, and you felt some compelling emotions when you saw Eddie Munson onscreen, so you’ve decided that those things should go together. You take something that made you feel emotions while you watched the canon material, then you don’t bother to process those emotions or what made the canon material compelling. You just slap whatever you already think you like onto something that made you feel, whether it had anything to do with what you like or not.

You eat the apple and benefit from it without knowing, at all, what nutrients are inside. Then when someone offers you crap and tells you it’s apple-flavored, you wonder why you’re not feeling the same way afterward.

Then you misdiagnose. You say “no, I don’t wonder why I’m not feeling the same—it’s because the CGI in live-action remakes suck!” Okay, great, so they’ll get better CGI. And it’ll still suck. Because that was never the problem, just like the reasons you liked the movie were never the reasons it actually impacted you in the first place.

Figure out. WHY. You like what you like. Figure out if it’s because the stories said what their creators objectively intended for them to say—or if you like the story in spite of that, not because of that.

Then open your mouth about it. It is worth it.

[xshiny]

Shared Struggles prt 1

Trigger Warning! ⚠️

Eating disorder -> not eating for a while resulting to unhealthy body

WIP 💀

Unbeknownst to those who didn’t pay much mind to you, you had been struggling to eat much or anything at all.You thought you were flying under the radar fairly well with this, until Keegan found you and walked over to you, pressing his shoulder to the wall as he leaned to be level with you. “You didn’t come down for dinner,” He said smoothly. He was the least confrontational of personal problems out of all your friends, so it was surprising. “Nor were you there for breakfast.. whys that?"

"I already ate" you shrugged it off, moving past him.

“You didn’t.” Keegan said bluntly. “I looked in the kitchen on my way back from the table.. there wasn’t even a plate put in the sink. You’re a bad liar.”

"I put the dishes away. You're a bad looker" you quickly said, and took another step.

This caught him off guard for a moment, before he pushed himself off the wall and stepped in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me.”

"I'm looking" you blinked, looking at him and stood there in his grasp. You were playing it cool.

He tightened his grip slightly until your view was entirely him. “Do you even realize how thin you’ve gotten? You can practically see your bones through your skin for god’s sake!”

"I'm not skinny, I'm just...not as big as you" you shrug, not even caring about the fact that what he said is true.

He looked at you like you had lost your mind. “Not as big as me?? Dude,” He said, stepping back as he gestured to himself, “You can practically see the bones in your spine! You look like you’re dying!”

"Dying? I'm not dying!" You protest, frowning at him.

“Well you’re damn well starving yourself and that’s a slippery slope to all sorts of issues. Your skin is pale, and your eyes are all bloodshot and sunken. And you don’t have any energy, man! You’re exhausted just by walking!!”

"I need sleep!?" You suggest, and shrug your shoulders again.

“Yeah, that too!” He exclaimed, “But I mean, you have to see what I mean right? You look like if you dropped dead, people wouldn’t question it because they expect it! Your entire skin color is almost blue! You’re a shade of white we’ve never seen! Do you even remember the last time you had a full meal?”

"...No.."

“You can’t even remember?” He looked genuinely hurt. “How long has it been?? The last I remember, you didn’t eat that day either… that was, what, two weeks ago?”

Suddenly you feel dizzy and slump forward a bit, stumbling over your feet. "S'been a while"

Keegan let go of your shoulders as he immediately scooped you up in his arms, holding you close to prevent you from any more stumbling.“Jesus Christ!” He yelled, “You’re about to collapse!”

"Am...not...bouta..." You complained, and your knees gave out, causing you to go dead weight on him.

Keegan made the executive decision to carry you bridal style and immediately went downstairs to take you to the medical unit.He kicked down the door and yelled, “We need help! Anyone?! Come quick!”

Has been worked on ⤵️

When multiple members of the unit rushed in, he finally explained in more detail what was wrong with you, making sure to mention your severe lack of eating. The nurses were incredibly worried, but got to work immediately. It took hours for them to fix any nutrient deficiencies you may have and give you an intravenous injection of potassium to prevent further muscle fatigue.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

A/n: Make sure you lovelies eat!! Take care of yourselves ❤️

Sorry for any inaccurate scenes 😭

And still working on that last scene...will update later...

Update: it's good enough for now 🥲👍 fictional logic save me

Part 2

[evolutionsvoid]

While legends and folklore tend to be fantastical sounding, one must remember that there tends to be a grain of truth buried within. Typically, there is something real in the beginning, that inevitably gets warped and bolstered through time and tellings until we get the stories we have today. Take good ol Santa for example! The large jovial man who comes down our chimneys at night to dispense gifts to the good and naught for the naughty. As most folk would say, this tale came from a wizened bearded fellow from old Europe who would carve toys for the children and deliver them on one special night.

And those folks would be WRONG!

While it certainly paints a heartwarming picture, what sense does it make? How could a simple man deliver that many presents? And with every home gifting him milk and cookies, how could he possibly eat them all? And climbing down chimneys when doors exist? And why only one night a year? Some may chalk it up to hyperbole that has grown throughout the years, but rational fellows know the true answer. Because what climbed down that chimney so many decades ago was no mere man...

The Santa of olden times was not a person, but a beast. A horrid creature that hibernated most of the year, only arising at certain times to feed. Obviously, when it woke during summer and times of plenty, its hunts would go by unnoticed. Plenty of deer, rabbit and other woodland creatures to feast upon. But when it emerged from its coma in winter, food was much more scarce. No easy meals to find! So its large nose would be deployed to sniff out prey, which would obviously lead it to the most aromatic option available. Upon the icy wind would travel the smell and warmth of a cooking fire, where holiday dishes may be baked and family would gather close around. The presence of such heat and light would indicate life nearby, and in great quantities! And so to the little homes of the village, the Santa would be drawn.

With the winter cold and dread of night, such homes would not be easily breached. Doors were closed and windows sealed shut, both for safety and to preserve precious heat. And when sounds of a beast outside would reach their ears, barricades would be erected. Yet, there is one entryway they never think to defend. And it is here the beast breaches their homes, dislocating its skeleton as it slinks down the chimney. Fire or not, the Santa would not stop and those trapped inside would surely perish. The creature is hungry and does not respond well to screaming and fighting. Some even claimed that it grew more aggressive with eye contact, seeing such action as a threat. It would slaughter those within so that it could feed on their fat and bones, which were its favorite parts. And after it had gorged, filling its belly as if it were a bowl of bloody jelly, it would slowly climb its way back out and continue the hunt. For the Santa needs to consume as much nutrients as possible before it returns to its hibernation, visiting every house around to do so. And then the threat will not come around til next year....

So how did we get here, to the Santa we have today? Surely this bloody massacre upon every twenty fifth night of this dreaded month would not be rendered so squeaky clean? Well, first off, you would be surprised what mainstream media sanitizes into palatable holidays and figures, and secondly, the story is not yet done! These encounters are only the beginning, as in time, people began to understand the Santa and adapt to its ways. The hungered beast became more known, and thus folks could spare themselves this terrible fate.

The first thing that they learned is that the Santa is goaded by eye contact and noise, more liable to attack and feed when presented with screaming prey. It would appear that it is a carnivore, not a scavenger, and thus prefers freshly slaughtered prey. Thus, folk have made it a necessity to be "asleep" when the Santa is on the prowl. Everyone tucked into bed, eyes closed and bodies unmoving. When this creature comes crawling down the chimney, nothing should be stirring. Without obvious triggers to force it into a killing mood, it becomes more curious of its surroundings, looking for the best morsels. And that is when the offerings come in. Presented by the entry point is to be a tall glass of milk and a heaping pile of cookies baked with animal fat. A veritable feast of fats, calcium, sugar and protein! Plenty should be made and laid out so that the beast can have a sizeable meal. And if it is satiated, it may retreat from the home and continue its hunt elsewhere. And if that were to occur, you would be left with the greatest gift of all: getting to survive til the new year!

Once you learn this, than it all falls into place! Why, it almost becomes obvious! That is how we have Santa coming down the chimney and enjoying milk and cookies! And why everyone should be asleep when he arrives! And see how the good quiet little boys and girls get to live, while the loud misbehaving ones get a "lump" of "coal." Such is the way of things! Kids these days should be grateful it is now translated to literal coal instead of a solid bulb of spiny fat that bludgeons prey and injects them with a insulin-like venom that induces paralysis! They do not have to fear being eaten alive, shredded by Santa's many teeth! Imagine how grateful they would feel to know that chilling laugh upon the cold wind does not spell their demise! To know that they may be spared and not deemed naughty! Sure seems incredible when you think of it! Really puts into perspective how nice you got it these days! So what if da- I mean SANTA didn't get you that shiny new whatsit this year? At least you still have your bones! Now why don't you practice for next year's Santa visit while dad gets some more eggnog. I swear....you know Cinderella's step sisters got their eyes pecked out by crows! And you know the children laughed when they read that! Laughed! A whole lot different back then I tell ya! Suuuuure would be a great time to reflect on how good life is NOW! Tis the holiday of being thankful or what not where the hell's that eggnog?

------------------------------------

"Santacore"

I know we are still a bit a ways from Christmas but ah well! Couldn't help myself!

[bunposting]

House Rabbit Society Bullshit - 5 Years Later

I considered just reblogging the OG post (check it out if you haven't seen it - the Masterpost of House Rabbit Society Bullshit) and adding this to the reblogs, but then it got long enough to be its own post. So! Without further ado...

Thank you to @/threefeline for mentioning this in the tags of the original post! Man, has it really been a whole entire 5 years?!

Well, I got curious and decided to check it out so that you, dear readers, don't have to! (or like. you could go do it yourself anyways. but why give them the clicks?)

Man. On the surface, has a lot changed. In fact, it changed so much that I almost fell into the trap of believing that maybe the organization itself has changed. But let's talk about what I found...

Time for one of my famous rambles! Oh boy! (there will be a TL;DR at the very end lmao)

The organization hasn't changed in any way that really matters. They are still essentially PETA for rabbits specifically, but the website has changed an awful lot (I barely recognized it). And, I have to admit, they made a teeny tiny bit of progress on at least one of their stances.

That tiny bit of progress pertains to diet. On their diet section, they are no longer strictly advocating for a diet of 80% hay, 10% veggies, 5% pellets, and 5% fruit/treats. Thank goodness!!!!! What they have isn't too much better but.... it's progress. Here's the update:

This is the first graphic on the diet page. There's. A lot to unpack here.

First is unlimited hay. That's standard of HRS, we've come to expect that from them. Offering unlimited hay to your rabbits won't kill them (though it might screw up their teeth in the long run, according to some studies), but if you're giving your rabbits a complete feed pellet, you'll probably just end up wasting hay because they won't end up eating a ton of it.

Next is "minimum 2 cups chopped vegetables." UM. THAT'S. DANGEROUSLY VAGUE MY GUYS. At least before they specified it should be leafy greens?????? If I was just the standard civilian looking to adopt a rabbit and I saw this, I might think this includes things like cucumbers, carrots, peppers, etc. Feeding a rabbit 2 cups of vegetables like those per 6 lbs of body weight per day would KILL a rabbit. Holy shit.

After that is 1/4 cup pellets. First of all - 1/4 cup is much more than what they used to advocate for, so I guess that's progress. But uh. Fun fact. The average serving size of a good quality complete feed pellet for a 6 lb rabbit when on a maintenance diet is... get this... just a bit over 1/4 cup (roughly 1/3 cup, but it also depends on breed/activity level/management style/etc.). Mind you - that's for a good quality complete feed pellet. Meaning technically the rabbit doesn't need to eat literally anything else. But HRS in this graphic is saying that a rabbit should be getting almost a full serving of pellets on top of 2 cups of unspecified vegetables on top of unlimited hay per day??????? Again, what a fantastic way to kill a rabbit. If the GI issues don't kill it, the obesity certainly will.

But hey, at least they are now specifying that treats should be given sparingly rather than making up a whole 5% of a rabbit's diet.

What an absolutely insane graphic to start this page with. It gets better, though.

After this graphic, they go into a bit more detail. Of course, they still believe hay helps to file down a rabbit's teeth better than pellets or chew blocks. Lol.

But then we get to the thing about the vegetables and here's where things get really interesting (and also extremely contradictory).

Quote: "Rabbits should get a minimum of three different types of leafy green vegetables daily to help them obtain the vitamins and nutrients they need." Ok, glad to see we're specifying leafy green vegetables now at least. That's cool I guess.

Quote immediately after that: "Eliminate any vegetables that cause your rabbit to have soft stool or diarrhea. Every rabbit is different, and you’ll need to find what foods work best for your rabbit, based on their health and sensitivity to certain foods." Sooooo what you're saying is that fresh vegetables can be risky to feed, considering diarrhea can be a death sentence for a rabbit. Interesting. But I'm supposed to be feeding 2 whole entire cups of this stuff per day, right????

Quote immediately after that: "Take this list along with you the next time you’re out shopping for vegetables to try feeding your rabbit" (list of safe vegetables for rabbits was after this.) Oh! Try feeding vegetables! So it's not a requirement! Thank goodness.

Next sentence: "Leafy vegetables should make up about 75% of the fresh portion of your rabbit’s diet. Non-leafy vegetables should make up no more than about 15% of your rabbit’s diet, or about 1 tablespoon per 2 pounds of body weight per day." 75% of the fresh portion of my rabbit's diet should be leafy greens... ok... so I'm guessing the fresh portion they're talking about is those 2 whole entire cups they mentioned before... which supposedly aren't super required I guess??? I have no idea. But now they're saying that 15% of my rabbit's diet - not 15% of the fresh portion, but 15% of my rabbit's entire diet - should be non-leafy vegetables. That's a lot. And also another really great way to kill your rabbits via GI problems.

The next sentence after that: "Due to the emergence of Rabbit Hemorrhagic Disease Virus Type-2 (RHDV2), House Rabbit Society recommends washing all vegetables for at least two minutes, in a bowl, changing the water several times." MY RABBIT CAN GET RVHD2 FROM EATING VEGETABLES?!?!!?!?!?!??!?!?!? WHY TF WOULD I FEED IT VEGETABLES THEN?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

Wow. That was a whole lot of contradictions. I'm all worn out. But let's see what they have to say about pellets. This should be good.

HRS' official current stance on pellets is (*drumroll*): "A good quality pellet should be relatively high in fiber (18% minimum fiber). While nursing mothers and young rabbits need to eat a lot of pellets, it should make up less of their diet as they grow older. Alfalfa-based pellets are fine for young rabbits, but timothy-based ones are preferred for adults."

YIPPEE WAHOOOOOO THEY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT PELLETS ARE GOOD ACTUALLY!!!!!!!!! (*the crowd goes wild*) There's that progress I was talking about!!!! I mean, 18% is low for a pellet feed but I guess if you're feeding mostly hay and giving less in terms of pellets that's fine for maintenance. But like. Why not just take the guesswork out and feed a higher fiber complete feed pellet to begin with. Anyways, nitpicking aside, I actually really like that they aren't vilifying pellets anymore, are acknowledging the importance of pellets for young rabbits and nursing does, and aren't saying that alfalfa-based pellets are going to kill your adult rabbits like they used to. Timothy-based pellets can absolutely be preferred for adult maintenance, that's totally fine, but preferred doesn't mean required. That's a huge win imho.

The next section goes on about treats and fresh fruits. They for some reason still say that fruit can be up to 10% of your rabbit's diet (yikes?????? that's actually even more than what they used to say??? at least they're not requiring it now I guess) but they do specify that it shouldn't be much more than a teaspoon per day, and they acknowledge that hay-based treats are healthier.

OK. Diet section aside, not much else has changed. They still say rabbits should have a ton of room and that wire is "dangerous for rabbits' feet" (lol), they still advocate for spaying and neutering, etc. etc. I will say I'm not seeing anything about needing to have rabbits in bonded pairs anymore, so that's a bit of progress too, I guess.

Initially, I was really impressed that it seemed like they weren't continuing to spout anti-breeder and anti-meat rabbit rhetoric anymore........ until I scrolled down on their "about" section. I'll say, they're hiding it better than they used to, because when you look at the about page at face value, it doesn't look like there's much else to see other than their "how we got here" statement. Then we get to their mission/value statements:

Mission statement, save and improve domesticated rabbit lives, eh. If I was an average person I'd be like yeah ok, typical rescue behavior. Then we get to the vision statement: Improving their legal status certainly raises alarm bells for me. As soon as we get legal status involved, that's when we start venturing out of animal welfare and moving more towards animal rights. But again, average citizen would still be like yeah ok. Cool I guess.

But further down, we get their actual list of values... waaaay past their whole board of directors that no one will want to read and will probably click away from the page immediately after seeing rather than reading further.

Again, all of this is hidden AFTER their board of directors list. Which is interesting.

Their policies, their beliefs, and what they are striving for has not changed whatsoever. A quick glance at their website might have you believing that it has, but no. This proves it has not.

Further down, we finally get to their position statements, which you can only find by clicking a hyperlink at the very bottom of this page - there is no easy way to get to it.

Their statement on meat rabbits is... exactly what you would expect: They are against raising rabbits for consumption by anyone for any reason.

Their statement on fur remains that they are 100% against fur, though they have amended their statement on angora wool to specify that, if someone is spinning wool gained from grooming their pet angora, that is perfectly ok to use in their opinion. That seems like it should be a no-brainer, but I saw someone keeping an angora 100% to HRS standards who posted something they made with the rabbit's wool get absolutely torn to shreds in the comments by HRS supporters for using the wool at all, saying that the wool should have been thrown out because the angora owner was "exploiting" their rabbit. So. Having this be specified hopefully at the very least prevents that from happening again. They are still against angora wool from literally any other circumstance, though. Because of course they are.

Then comes their statement on breeding. They specify multiple times on multiple occasions that they believe all rabbits should be spayed and neutered (again, if that happens, no rabbits would be able to breed, and we would no longer have domestic rabbits), but in their statement on breeding they simply say that they believe breeding rabbits should not happen whatsoever until the "overpopulation crisis" has been solved. I shouldn't have to say what a flawed stance on breeding that is. If there aren't rabbits being bred, if all rabbits are spayed and neutered, then there will be no rabbits left to breed once the "overpopulation crisis" is solved the way they want it to be solved (i.e. by all unhoused rabbits being adopted as pets). They can say all they want that their real goal is to make sure no more rabbits end up in shelters, abandoned outside, or (in their words) as "snake food" (poor snakes), but unless the ultimate end goal is to eliminate all domestic rabbits, the way they are advocating for solving this problem will always hurt more than it helps.

WHOOF. What a journey. Thanks for taking this journey with me, folks. Remember: a reputable breeder who gets their information from experience, from other reputable breeders, and from well-conducted scientific studies will always be one of the best places to learn about rabbits from, NOT a group that can't even create an agenda that won't ultimately harm, kill, or even eliminate domestic rabbits entirely.

TL;DR: No, House Rabbit Society really hasn't changed. They have updated some of their statements for the better, such as changing their stance on pellets from "pellets are trash" to pellets are actually a good feed option, but their positions on rabbits, rabbit meat, and rabbit breeding remain the same albeit even more hidden than they were before.