#React for business

[techygrowth]

ReactJS has grown to be one of the most widely used frameworks for creating dynamic, powerful mobile and web applications. It is perfect for companies looking to develop responsive and scalable user interfaces because of its component-based architecture, reusability, and quick rendering. Supported by a large developer community and Facebook, ReactJS guarantees frequent upgrades and long-term support. The flexibility, speed, and performance that modern organizations want are provided by ReactJS, regardless of whether you're creating a single-page application or a sophisticated corporate platform. This blog examines the main arguments for why ReactJS is a wise selection for your upcoming app development project.

[emacrow]

Damian and the Dumpster baby.

Damian was doing patrols, with a bit of a minor rescuing and feeding the strays animals until he heard a noise from a dumpster.

Tonight was going to be a storm coming, and he rather check up on the strays, feed them, fixing any of the secure hiding places he put out for them for rain occasionally, and try to smuggle 1 or 6 into the barn again without Father knowing. Alfred can keep a secret sometimes.

Jumping on the edge of the dumpster to see a plastic bag tied up on the pile of trash with something squirming inside, alive obviously. Oh if this another group of puppies, he going to find the culprit himself and break their kneecaps and arms this time.

Easily untying the plastic bag and opening to reveal.. a little baby.

Not a kitten or a puppy, a living breathing human baby, cut and tied umbilical and a pale with a unique birth mark in a shape of a lichtenberg from his tiny hand fading to his chest.

This..

This was out of Damian's comfort line.

He had dealt with saving animals, people, children, hell even toddlers. He never dealt with a baby before much less a newborn.

He could panic later as he hear the sounds of a storm brewing. Carefully picking up the baby by the back of the head and and by the body, using his cape to as a blanket to cover the obvious nudity of the baby. Climbing onto his Red Robin theme Doom Buggy.

Taking care of a baby is no different then taking care of a baby animal, right?

.....

.....

.....

.....

He got caught after 5 month and a half by Alfred during feeding Danyal time, while scolded him about hiding the baby instead of coming to him.

He had a good reason to though, last time he told Alfred about the last newest addition, Bruce sended the Jafar the Ligor to a sanctuary. He still felt betrayed by that.(even though now Jafar is happily spending his days with the other mixed big cat breed but still)

He done a good enough job taking care of Danyal, even though he had to secretly look up baby stuff, medicine, clothes, a soft bedded cot and diapers.(the smell was much less worse then the sewer) he considered himself a great care-taker.(even though in the back of his mind, he feared that he might had unlocked that genetic adopt-bat bait traits that Dick warned him about)

Damian had gotten.. a bit attached, considering the idea of putting danyal in orphanage or a foster care wasn't ideal afterall the corrupted ones that Father and him had broken through over the years left a bad gut feeling if he had actually gone through with his plan. Danyal was one of his babies, only not covered in fur, scales, or a shell.

And he didn't do everything all on his own, Cass was the only who figured it out, kept it a secret and help out.. then steph found out... and Jason, Tim and Duke unfortunately found out after Cass and steph snuck danyal in the manor for a nice bath.

Only reason Dick didn't found out because everyone know he can't keep a secret away from Bruce's ear for long after found out Jason's new girlfriend was the new therapist in Gotham, and telling Bruce would feed his adopt-holic again and he end up having baby fever. (Tim didn't tell him what that word meant but he did look it up in a baby care guide book for new parents. And EW)

They were going to wait it out til Danyal was at least toddler age before sneaking him in the manor to gatekeep gaslight girlboss Father into thinking he already adopted him. (Steph's words, not his)

New post <-

[frownyalfred]

[just-null]

[modern au] pjs movie night w these idiots

[nenoname]

[applecranberryjuice]

My only Morro predictions

Secret third option: he just doesn't show up at all. The leaks were wrong, everyone was wrong, he's not even in the script notes, mass deception.

Awful hand writing transcriben under the cut:

1. Hey guys, MORRO here to show you how even good, or the people we look up to make mistakes BUT ALSO to remind you that the mistakes of the student aren't also the master's and that relationships between LEGOTM are complicated .

2. So glad we are on good terms after that one special everyone watched anyways I'm here to bully this stinky loser teacher Mcvisions into an accurately depicted panic attack bcz hes stupid dum dum and even HE couldn't break the cycle

[yuukirita]

Prowl's hand name. This one might mean something in real sign language but like I said- I'M MAKING EM UP! gotta think like "what would Bee choose to represent his friends?" So... Eyebrow-horns...

[cometblaster2070]

okay but jokes aside the munchkin girl literally just asked "was she your friend" and glinda really just started staring off into space and monologuing like her husband was lost at sea like this was really her ass

brain empty she's just thinking about elphaba right now who tf gives a shit about the munchkins.

[meamiki]

imagine if isa's confession kept getting interrupted in increasingly bizarre ways…. ASFASDASF

((this stems from a stream silly!! with my friends!! we are streaming now!! its the finale!! info rbed in a lil bit!! yeah thats it!!))

[risartblog]

#miqomarch day 23 :: Free day (Bloom..?)

Group meal with everyone! Including... accidental touches and averted gazes?? 😳

[laswells-ashtray]

If John is operating on heavy pain meds, then he has the urge to be close to someone. That someone is often Nikolai, but he can't just be close. He needs to be touching him.

So, it isn't uncommon if John is on the good stuff to walk into a room to find him mid conversation with Nikolai and clutching the Russian's pinky in his hand.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

The Surgery Doll

There’s a sickening creak of metal as the well-aged door is effortfully pushed open. The operation room was lit with an aggressive white light, leaving harsh shadows angled into every corner. The cloth doll turns its head, trying to shield the buttons on its face from the intense glow. The flinch lasts only a moment, as it remembers its place. It turns back, facing the ball-jointed doll that politely stands in wait across the operating table.

It's... a kind of doll it hadn't seen before. It's seen plenty of ball-jointed dolls, of course. But none like this. The way its frame crawls upward, consuming the corner of the room like a spider web. The sharp edges of its thin, lanky frame looked as if they could cut the delicate flesh of any onlooker.

"Ah, it's... very nice to meet that one." The cloth doll curtsies, failing to hide its nervousness. "This one's name is Pudding. It's nice to, um..." The doll trails off before it can repeat itself, looking to the other doll for approval.

The ball-jointed doll is unfettered. It towers above the plaything, statuesque as it glares down at its patient. "Macabre."

"Ah, a pretty name!" It tries to smile, apprehension leaving the stitches in its mouth half-turned. "It's nice to meet that one!"

Macabre simply turns away, bending down to reach under the counter behind it. "Get on the table."

The other doll obeys, letting its soft body quietly thump against the back. With cloth mittens clasped together, resting on its belly, it stares up into the sterile fluorescent light.

The room is cold, the stone walls of the basement emanating an unwelcoming aura of stiff indifference. The lights, external fixtures crudely strung up with wire, leave a power cord that snakes into the corner and disappears behind a shelf of medical texts, for people and non-people alike. Spines coloured the same blue seen upon the walls of hospitals, the same colour Pudding has seen before when Miss cuddles it through her drama shows. They're outnumbered by smaller books; operating manuals, caring for clockwork, and a few books on sewing and crochet that it recognizes from Miss's shelf.

A moment passes. All that fills the room is a practised pattern, the routine movements of a doll at work as the shuffling of something accompanies its searching hands.

"So... um..." The doll tries to speak. This is not a bed for rest, Macabre is not a partner to sooth. It's far out of its element. "This one has never met a medical doll before. What's it like?"

There's a distinct creaking as Macabre turns, a clear strain against its old joints as it reaches for its implement. It holds sewing scissors, the blades hanging open and held over Pudding's body like a scythe.

Its face remains still, adorned with a pensive frown dotted with dark makeup. Only now does Pudding notice how... it wouldn't dare to say something as rude as inelegant, but it's never seen a doll wear something so pragmatic. A plain black t-shirt dress, completely without frills or decoration. Scrubs.

"It's wonderful." Its painted-on frown doesn't move as the monotone drips from it. It's lowered to a whisper, just as it was before, as if raising its voice above the minimum would be a strain. "This one gets to see the private insides of every doll it's ever met. It's a privilege to be trusted."

Its body curls inward, the lanky body creaking as it hovers over the doll like a beast about to pounce. A sleek and terrible monster of the shadows, one that lurks around the corner to dig fangs into necks. But, of course, its mouth remains politely closed. "Thank you."

"Oh!" The cloth doll perks up, a genuine smile teasing at its lips. "Um, this one is happy to help!" There's a hesitation in its voice, one of surprise and just a little confusion. But, just a little, it feels fulfilled. "That one should thank Miss Circe when she returns, too. She's what made this one so helpful." It echoes from a lifetime of habit.

With its reaction fulfilled, Pudding lowers its head back, flush against the table. The apprehension makes itself known again, digging in and rooting within the doll's mind.

Macabre lets out a gentle sigh, giving a barely-there curious tilt of its head. "You can't anesthetize a doll."

"Huh?"

"So that one needs to calm itself before the operation." It reaches back and places the sewing scissors on the tray resting on the counter behind it, next to bags of weighted beads. Its movements were smooth, unflinchingly elegant, to an unnatural degree. Movements uninhibited by mortal consideration, everything in service to a purposeful intent, with no room left for a flinch. "It's a comfort doll, yes? What would that one do if it were the one calming a patient?"

"Oh!" Recognition fades into concern. "Oh, um..." With no lungs left to fill, the doll mimics a sigh as it turns back to the room's only door. "This one would probably be most comforted by Miss being here, but she has such important things to be doing."

Before it can continue, before it can dilute its needs with practicality, Macabre accepts. "If that one needs a Miss, this one shall provide. Her name was Circe, yes?"

Comfort dolls, Pudding especially, must be attuned with emotion to follow their purpose. A comfort doll should recognize what will be enjoyed, appreciated, and most of all, comforting. So it knows. Immediately, it knows.

"Yes, Miss Circe." Pudding nods dutifully, smiling up at a doll that is not her witch. Its eyes are much too dark, its hair the same as its blunt bangs almost hide its eyes entirely. And that face, its frozen porcelain face, bereft of Circe's relief to finally be so close to her favourite doll and hold it tight after a long day apart. "...thank you for being here with this one."

"She is kind, isn't she? She must treat that one so well." Macabre can't help but let its thoughts drift away, head tilting downward to avert its eyes. "So refined, but so compassionate. Someone who can hug, who can cause smiles. What makes that one smile?"

It's then that Pudding sees something in the taller doll shift. Its posture loosens, just a little, just enough. It's all the cloth doll needs. It feels something light up, a drive, a need. This is its purpose.

Its focus shifts, away from itself. All it can do is look up at Macabre, a wistful compassion clear even through the darkness of its buttons. "You always tell this one stories about all the fun people you meet, Miss. You're so social, it's so natural for you to just attract people and make them happy."

Macabre doesn't sigh, hiding the refreshing relief to hear such a thing. To imagine it were true, that it was a vibrant thing of compassion and closeness. "Yes..." It hesitates, only for a moment, from its task. It takes that moment, just a moment and nothing more, to conjure a self to refer to. "I... I met someone, just at the store the other day. She was so kind to me. She just... came up to me and talked like we were old friends. She wasn't the least bit scared, she..."

Macabre flinched, woken from its lucid daydream, as it feels a soft mitten snake into its hand. Immediately, Pudding pulls away. "Oh! Sorry, this one didn-"

"No!" Macabre snatches its mitten back. "No, it's... please. It's okay."

Slowly, gently, the mitten closes around the other doll’s sharp and slender grasp. "Yes, Miss. Of course."

. . . . .

Thmp!

Such soft, gentle impacts ring into the concrete. Thmp goes an experimental first step, the doll's feet landing against the ground with a heavier and clumsier pressure. "Oh, gosh, this feels…"

The doll looks back to Macabre. "…it's strange." Another raise of the foot, and a gentle press against the floor, too softly to sound beyond the subtle rustling of its new beads. "It's a little heavy, but it doesn't feel… encumbering, it thinks."

Fixing its posture, Pudding's look turns from one of curiosity to gratitude. "This one gives its thanks, Macabre. That one is very talented!"

With a soft creak, the other doll lowered its head, a polite and dutiful gesture. "It was nothing. That one was a very good doll. Most dolls struggle to be still when they're being cut, this one is pr-"

It stops itself. "…that one did well."

Pudding knew what it wanted to say, of course. It had known all along.

"Thanks for acting as this one's Miss, as well. It was a great help." The doll bows and grabs its dress, a quick and light curtsy.

Then, it spoke one final thought. Just before Circe returned, and Pudding gave her all of its attention like any good doll would. Just before she left the payment on the table, one that an owned doll would have passed along to its witch. Just enough to almost force a soulful blush on Macabre's cold, painted face.

"That one would make a lovely witch."

[ask-pakistan]

(wait what?? Mun drawing Hetalia in our great year of 2025??!)

This is what he gets for living in basically a jungle, so do not feel sympathetic for him.

[dingletragedy]

i hope the rest of the tumblr world is extremely perplexed as to why the british farm soap is trending on a saturday night

[inkbomber]

start getting horny about fat men 🔫 i am no longer asking politely

[bulkhummus]

its been 8million years since ive listened to wtnv or drawn my boys........... something is deeply. deeply amiss............