#Svelte 5

[john-carle123]

Top 10 JavaScript Libraries You Must Know in 2024

Hey there, fellow code enthusiasts! 👋 Can you believe we're already halfway through 2024? The JavaScript ecosystem is evolving faster than ever, and keeping up with the latest libraries can feel like trying to catch a greased pig at a county fair. But fear not! I've done the heavy lifting for you and compiled a list of the top 10 JavaScript libraries you absolutely must know this year.

Whether you're a seasoned dev or just dipping your toes into the vast ocean of JavaScript, these libraries will supercharge your productivity and make your code shine brighter than a supernova. So grab your favorite caffeinated beverage, settle into your ergonomic chair, and let's dive in!

1. ReactJS 19.0: The Reigning Champion

Oh, React.Js, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways! 😍 This library needs no introduction, but the latest version is like React on steroids. With improved concurrent rendering and a slick new API, React 19.0 is faster than ever. If you're not using React yet, what rock have you been living under?

Pro tip: Check out the new "Suspense for Data Fetching" feature. It'll change the way you handle asynchronous operations forever!

2. Vue.js 4: The Dark Horse

Vue.js has always been the approachable, easy-to-learn alternative to React. But with version 4, it's no longer playing second fiddle. The composition API is now the default, making your code more organized than Marie Kondo's sock drawer. Plus, the new "reactivity transform" feature is pure magic – it's like your components gained sentience!

3. Svelte 5: The Lightweight Contender

Svelte is the new kid on the block that's been turning heads. Version 5 introduces "runes," a game-changing approach to reactivity. It's so efficient, your bundle sizes will be smaller than my chances of ever completing a Rubik's cube. If you haven't tried Svelte yet, you're missing out on the closest thing to coding nirvana.

4. Three.js r160: Because 3D is the New 2D

Want to add some pizzazz to your web projects? Three.js is your ticket to the third dimension. The latest release includes improved WebGPU support, making your 3D graphics smoother than a freshly waxed Ferrari. Whether you're creating immersive data visualizations or just want to flex your creative muscles, Three.js has got your back.

5. D3.js v8: Data Visualization on Steroids

Speaking of data viz, D3.js is still the undisputed king of the hill. Version 8 brings improved TypeScript support and a more modular architecture. It's like the Swiss Army knife of data visualization – there's nothing it can't do. Fair warning: once you start using D3, you'll find excuses to visualize everything. Your coffee consumption over time? There's a chart for that!

6. Axios 2.0: Because Fetch is So Last Year

RESTful APIs are the backbone of modern web development, and Axios makes working with them a breeze. Version 2.0 introduces automatic request retrying and better browser support. It's like having a personal assistant for all your HTTP requests. Trust me, once you go Axios, you never go back.

7. Lodash 5.0: The Utility Belt You Didn't Know You Needed

Lodash is like that quiet kid in class who always has the right answer. It's a collection of utility functions that make working with arrays, objects, and strings a walk in the park. Version 5.0 is fully modular, letting you cherry-pick only the functions you need. Your bundle size will thank you!

8. Jest 30: Testing Made Fun (Yes, Really!)

I know, I know. Testing isn't exactly the most exciting part of development. But Jest 30 might just change your mind. With improved parallel execution and a new snapshot format, your tests will run faster than Usain Bolt on a coffee binge. Plus, the error messages are so helpful, it's like having a personal coding tutor.

9. Next.js 14: React on Autopilot

If you're using React (and let's face it, who isn't?), Next.js is like strapping a jetpack to your development process. Version 14 introduces "Turbopack," a Rust-based bundler that's faster than a cheetah on roller skates. It's so good at optimizing your app, you'll wonder if it's powered by actual magic.

10. Socket.IO 5: Real-time Has Never Been This Easy

Last but not least, we have Socket.IO. If you're building anything that requires real-time communication (chat apps, live updates, multiplayer games), Socket.IO is your new best friend. Version 5 brings improved performance and better TypeScript support. It's like telepathy for your web apps!

Wrapping Up

There you have it, folks! These 10 JavaScript libraries are your ticket to coding nirvana in 2024. Whether you're building the next big social media platform or just trying to make your portfolio site stand out, these tools will have your back.

Remember, the key to mastering these libraries isn't just knowing how to use them – it's knowing when to use them. Don't be that developer who uses a sledgehammer to crack a nut (we've all been there, no judgment).

So, what are you waiting for? Fire up that code editor, brew a fresh pot of coffee, and start exploring these amazing libraries. Your future self will thank you!

Happy coding, and may your bugs be few and your commits be many! 🚀👨‍💻👩‍💻

Would you like me to explain or elaborate on any part of this blog post?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Can't Have One Without the Other 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, body insecurity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky's gone when you wake up. Your heart sinks. Last night was better than the day. Still, you're not reassured. 

You shouldn't feel like this about your husband. You should be happy for him to come home. You should give him a kiss without thinking. He might have been gruff about it, but he was right. 

You drag yourself out of bed. On habit, you grab your phone. You have a message from Nat. 

'Missed you at girls' night. Coffee?' 

You leave her in read. You'll have one before you answer her. You go downstairs and put a mug in the tray. You slip a pod in and hit brew. 

The doorbell chirps, 'visitor at the door.' Great. You already know before you check the camera on the front display. 

You forget that you're in one of Bucky's shirts when you open the door. It's just Nat anyway. Yes, Nat with her svelte waist and perfect hips. 

"So, is that what you're wearing for our coffee date?" She taunts. 

"I just woke up." You turn and let her follow. She's great at inviting herself in. 

"Late night?" She purrs. 

"Got a couple hours," you mutter as you go back to a kitchen. 

"I know you're not drinking that horse piss," she says as she comes up across the arm of the counter. "I'm taking you out for a pistachio latte. Extra cream." 

"Black is fine with me," you take the mug only for it to shatter, the hot coffee splattering across Bucky's shirt. The knife lands at your feet. "Nat!" 

"It's butter knife. Relax." 

"And? You told me once you could kill a man sixteen different ways with one." 

"Oh, I can," she cackles. "Get some pants on. Let's go." 

"Ugh, Nat--" 

"Ugh, you," she hurls back. "He said you were in a mood." 

You flinch, "I am." 

"I always loved that you're a bitch," she snorts. "Get that bouncy booty moving." 

You tilt your head and give her a mean look, "look who the fuck talking, bitch." 

She laughs. You do too. She can be terrible but she's too cool for you.

"Yeah, give me a minute." 

You go to get yourself together. That coffee would have helped a whole lot. You'll manage. 

You get dressed and clean up. You come back down. The kitchen floor is clean, the broken cup cleared away. Bucky always said Nat was good at getting rid of messes. 

"Fine, let's go. I'm cutting back on the cream though." 

"Coulda fooled me," she scoffs. 

"Nat," you chide again. 

"What? I'm sure Bucky can't get enough... since you got more than plenty to give." 

"Shut up." 

"Well, if you wanna do something about it, you can always take up sparring again." 

"And get my ears boxed in by a trained assassin, fun." You roll your eyes and go out into the entrywau. 

"You get your back blown by one," she retorts over your shoulder. You shoot her the finger. Sometimes you forget that about Bucky. How dangerous he really can be. 

💍

You take Nat up on her invitation. Both of them. After the calorie-loaded latte, you let her take you to the compound for a workout. It’s been a while. Too long. 

Since the wedding, you just kind fell off everything. That was three years ago.  You just never got back on it. There was always something else. 

When you wanted to read, Bucky wanted to talk. When you wanted to try that new game you bought, he wanted to go out for dinner. Whenever you wanted anything, he had the perfect distraction. Just like last night. 

You should feel better. That’s what you keep arguing with yourself. You’re losing that battle along with the one with Nat. She knocks you off your feet and the air rushes out of you on impact. 

You never beat her. Never even came close. You’re not a mercenary, or a soldier, or an assassin. You’re not one of them. You’re just you and you’re starting to think that’s not enough. 

You stay on the mat. She steps over you and offers her wrapped hand. You take it and let her pull you to sitting. You wave her off as she sets her feet. 

“No more.” 

“You’re conditioning is shit,” she drops down across from you, draping her arms over her knees. “I thought he’d keep you in peak shape.” 

“Nat,” you shake your head. 

“Okay, I get it. Soft spot. What’s the matter? You and the doofus not fucking?” 

You sigh, “no, we did. Last night. It was...” You shrug. 

“Wow, sounds amazing,” she says dryly. 

“It could have been. He was away a whole month.” 

“I thought you’d be drooling,” she chuckles. “When you were dating, I remember him pinning you on this very mat.” 

“Yeah, well... he couldn’t even pick up the phone the whole time he was gone.” You stare down at your thighs. You lean back and feel your bloat. “Ugh, I’m not even mad about it. How can I blame him? Look at me.” 

“But last night?” She argues. 

“Yeah, last night, with the lights off, as I tried to pretend I was anyone else,” you exhale and look away. “Nat, I should be crying about this. I’m not. I can’t.” 

“Have you talked to him?” 

You give her a look. 

“Right. Talk to Bucky. Good luck.” 

You chew your lip and finally your heart decides to kick up. Your stomach churns. You look at her as a wrinkle lines your forehead. 

“What?” She urges. 

You scrunch up your lips. Just say it. Say it and it’ll sound so stupid you’ll know it’s wrong. 

“I think maybe... maybe it’s not going to work. Maybe...” you push your shoulders up. “Maybe I should look into lawyers.” 

“Divorce?” She gasps. 

You nod. It makes sense actually. You thought you’d take it back the minute it met the air. For once, you think you might be right. What did she always say? Trust your gut. 

[jam3sacaster]

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

(Mentions of Lizzie!)

You unknowingly take on the job as RCB’s personal assistant, destined to work side-by-side with a man who’s allure knows no bounds.

18+ FANFIC / SMUT, angst, scandal, everything in between. Probably going to be a few parts? Reader character aged at 21. • indicates start of smut. As always, request whatever you wanna see in my ask box 💋

First day on the job, you think to yourself, must make a good impression. Taking a pace back to inspect yourself in the floor length mirror of Lizzie Vereker’s bedroom, you furrow your brow in apprehensiveness. Crisp white shirt — top two buttons undone to just reveal the lace lining of your black bra, as advised by Lizzie — tucked into a short charcoal pencil skirt, opaque black tights and black kitten heels.. most certainly the personification of office siren. Your makeup was gentle, but visible — soft rouged cheeks, glossed lips, mascara carefully preened onto wispy eyelashes, terrifically arched brows and chestnut hair pulled into a messy bun. “Well, I give it precisely… 4 minutes before Rupert makes a move. And that’s with him practising upmost self restraint.” Lizzie joked, smoothing a crease from your back and shooting you a subdued smile. “Anyway, he’ll be here in about 5 minutes to pick you up, so I hope you’re ready.” She adds, prompting even the smallest of response from you. All you could muster was a small nod. “You really must learn to drive, you know. If you’re going to be his PA. You’ll meet him today, and you won’t be able to track him down for the next fortnight.” Your tawny-haired friend instructs. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but a faint knock at the door sends shivers across the length of your spine.

Scurrying down the stairs in excited shrieks of glee, you straightened yourself out as Lizzie opened the door to the most magnificently pulchritudinous man — locks of ink-black hair, azure eyes & chiselled bone structure that could rival only that of Adonis. Leaning against the doorframe, adorned in a fawn-beige suit and puffing on a freshly-lit cigarette, the man’s eyes brightened at the sight of Lizzie. “Hello, darling! I didn’t think you’d be in.” He beamed, pulling her in for a hug. Paying close attention to your sheepish expression, Rupert pulled away and softened his brows. “And you must be my new PA. Enchanted to meet you. Rupert Campbell-Black.” He introduced himself, taking a hold of your svelte hand and planting a gentle kiss upon it. “Right, much to do today, Sir. Shall we get going?” You awkwardly mutter, motioning towards the open front door. He shoots a look to Lizzie, that you don’t quite get the chance to see. You peck the side of your friends cheek, and pace through the door to your transport.

Sleek, gleaming and most certainly distinctive— your jaw dropped at the sight of Rupert’s pretty white car. “Porsche 959. Fastest car on the market. Cost a pretty penny too.” Rupert notifies you, catching the astonished look on your lips. Pretending quickly not to take any notice and getting into the car, you anxiously panic with the seat belt, tugging at it sharply and release a small whimper in embarrassment. “Allow me.” Rupert smiles, and leans over you to unfold the belt. The manly, earthy fragrance of his aftershave lingered in your nostrils and he maintained unyielding eye contact as he tampered with the belt. “Onwards we go.” He chimes, reclining back in his seat and beginning the minute long drive back to his.

Pulling onto the gravelled driveway of Penscombe Court, you take a moment to assimilate to the sumptuous country house that stood afore you. “It’s unlocked. Office is the first door on the right, you can see yourself in.” Following instructions, you tiptoe your way through the immense front door and seat yourself in the office, knees tightly tucked together and hands folded in your lap. Rupert followed promptly, brandishing a bottle of whiskey and two intricately patterned tumblers. “Drink?” He asked, placing the two tumblers onto the desk. “No thank you, I’m working.” You reply with a sweet smile. He rolled his eyes slightly at your morality and poured two glasses, amber liquid teetering over the brim. “Drink. It’s good for nerves.” He raised an eyebrow, taking a large gulp of his own drink and sitting at the desk, opposite you and with legs splayed carelessly. “I’m not nervous.” You respond, cheeks blushing a furious shade of rose.

“So, first on the agenda, negative publicity. I’ve been fucking this French actress at the moment but she’s getting rather needy so I’ve not been returning her calls. She’ll need contacting to keep her sweet.” He notifies you, tapping the end of his pen against the desk and running his tongue over his teeth. Prick, you think to yourself. “Right okay,” You begin, glancing up at him whilst pulling a notepad from your handbag. “Sorry, what constitutes needy?” You ask, turning your head sideways in confusion. Rupert cannot help but push out a snigger. “I’m all for a bit of fun, but it’s terribly uncouth of woman to beg.” He titters, but you don’t reciprocate a smile. “Hmm. Maybe she thinks it’s terribly uncouth to fuck her and never call her back.” You jibe, screwing your mouth into the most brilliantly jesting position you can.

A smirk painted itself across Rupert’s lips as he blinked slowly, admiring your veracity and drinking in your unimpeachable beauty. He stood from his chair and walked around the desk, kicking your own chair from under the desk to face him. You yelped faintly in surprise as you gawped at him with widened, emerald eyes. “If there’s one thing you should take from this experience, I never call them back. Please just give them a swift excuse and send them a necklace or something. I’ll give you my card.” Rupert winks self assuredly. “Maybe I should do that for myself. Make up an unconvincing excuse and buy myself a necklace.” You hastily chastise.

“Do you want to fuck?” Rupert asks in response to your protest. His brazenness makes you the breath catch in your throat, wheezing out a spluttering cough. “What?” You ask, taking a bitter sip of whiskey to regain your breath. “I feel like you’re not relaxed. It might help to eliminate any awkwardness. We can fuck, and then you might be able to speak to me normally.” He shrugs his shoulders, completely believing his own farcical ideology. “Mr Campbell-Black! No! Don’t be ridiculous!” You scold, shaking your head in incredulity. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Rupert smirks, followed by a particularly large gulp of whiskey, and pouring himself another teeming glass.

Lizzie’s estimate was wrong — rather than 4 minutes, it had taken approximately 16 minutes for Mr Campbell-Black to accost you. “Maybe we should fuck. But I can promise you it won’t make things any less awkward. I’ll turn up to work everyday, attend your Venturer meetings and note down dates, meet with your ministerial colleagues and seem sophisticated… but you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the thought of me wrapped around you.” You tease, crossing tighted legs together and raising an eyebrow towards him. Rupert’s mouth stood agape — a dangerous concoction of sudden lust & bewilderment. “Maybe we should. I wouldn’t mind picturing your cum face every time I looked at you.” He utters, inching closer towards you and watching you fend off the urge to bite your lip.

•

Kneeling down to your level, it took a mere matter of moments for the pair of you to crash your lips together — a lascivious cacophony of passion, tongues fighting for dominance within each others mouths. Raking his hand through your dishevelled bun, he tightened his grip and awaited your painful moan. “Is that okay?” He tentatively asks, suddenly acutely aware of causing you pain. You nod your head in consent, and begin to unbutton the rest of your blouse, standing from your chair now to shuffle out of your skirt. You begin to peel your tights away from your shapely legs, but a firm hand prevents you. “Leave them on. I want to rip them from you.” He grins, beginning his own treacherous journey to remove his clothes until he stood, completely naked and gargantuan penis throbbing.

An anticipatory moan left your lips as you bent yourself over the desk, your considerably large arse threatening to burst through the sheer fabric of your tights. Rupert pawed softly as his growing cock, pre-cum beading over his pink tip as he eyed at your black thong. Gripping handfuls of your tights and tearing them away from your skin, he knelt down and delicately bit your right cheek, subsequently swirling a soothing pattern onto the bite with his tongue. You purred under his touch, crimson-painted fingernails digging indents into his mahogany desk. Parting your thong away from your glistening cunt, Rupert muttered to himself and rose up, teasing the tip of his cock against your entrance. “Tell me how much you want it, angel.” He goaded you, restraining himself from just plunging his cock inside you. “Please, Daddy. I need it.” You found yourself begging. As soon as he processed your new affectionate name for him, he thrusted into you, instantaneously groaning at the feeling of your tight, soaked folds around him.

“Wow, darling. You’re so tight. How long were you going to keep that a secret?” Rupert teased, a devilishly optimistic tone coursing through his breathless pants. Wasting no time in increasing his tempo, your pleasurable groans amplified as Rupert moved his right hand, reaching underneath your stomach to squeeze at your bouncing breasts. “Fuck Daddy, you feel so fucking big.” You whimper, Rupert’s girth stretching you further with every pump. Pulling his cock from your cunt — which accompanies a disgruntled groan from your supple lips. Forcefully, Rupert swipes a muscular arm across the length of his desk, important documents and exorbitantly prices fountain pens cascading to the floor. With a more gentle hand, he laid you on your back across the desk and took a moment to drink in the ethereal image of your body.

“Fuck, angel. You’re so beautiful.” He moans breathlessly, running his hands over your breasts and across your stomach. Reaching a slender arm towards his wrist, you pull it towards your neck, urging him to apply gentle pressure. More than impressed, Rupert raised a hazelnut eyebrow and obliged, thrusting his dripping cock back into you. “You’re such a horny bitch. Wanting me to choke you now?” He smirks, the heavenly sight of your agape mouth causing his abs to clench in ecstasy. You’d be foolish not to notice this, and notice you did. Clenching your soft cunt tighter around his cock, your body pleaded his for orgasm— Rupert’s face sharpening under the strengthening pressure.

“Do you want me to cum inside you, angel?” He asked you in anticipation, but your sniffling moans were escaping your lips too recurrently & rapidly to reply. Rupert fucking loves to make women a whimpering mess, but this was something else entirely. His grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, and his thrusts became orderly and firm — his preparation for release. “Fuck angel, I’m gonna cum. Tell me just how badly you want Daddy’s cum inside of you.” He instructed, lowering his face towards yours, hot breath reverberating against your skin. “Please, Daddy. Please give it to me.” You implored in response, but you needn’t.

The most breathtaking fuckkk left Rupert’s lips as vast ropes of sweet cum coated the walls of your cunt, each shot partnered with a stifled breath and a careless thrust. Your moans interlaced with his — the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Allowing his cock to soften inside you, Rupert pulled away from your cum-coated cunt after a moment, visibly perspiring.

Aware of the protocol, you sat up slowly, patting the heated skin of your cheek and surveying the room for something to clean yourself up with. Without prior notice, Rupert planted a soft kiss on your lips — passionate, not lustful. Not a thank you, but the conclusion to a making of love. “Much less awkward now, angel. The thought of that shall never leave my mind.” He smirked once again.

[definegodliness]

Lidl Girl

On a Sunday At the cash register's queue Something must have gone awry, Because we're all going nowhere.

I don't have to look behind me, But in the eyes of the panicky cashier, To know the line is Vastly increasing.

I'll adopt patience as a virtue.

Patience, after all is Just a matter of convincing myself I needn't be anywhere But here.

Standing, Thousand mile staring.

Power Saving Mode reduces All to phantasmagoria and vagueness, And all the while some Elevator music's Playing.

This is nice.

Someone turns around.

Hums, a song: She is quite beautiful.

An inner nudge: She's got those eyes You drown in.

And just like that I am Subconsciously beholding A highly defined focal point In the mist.

And her hair shines Like an oneiric sunrise, accentuating She is glowing. How alluring, The softness of her velvet skin - stop Staring - I can't, I am smitten; Such pretty hands - even hands? - yes, I think the word 'svelte' Is appropriate - you're an idiot - let me be. Her nose Is to die for, Cute as a button, And yet so feminine, Everything - stop staring! - I'll try! Wow, that smile… that smile… And you always say you don't Have a type. Evidently, Complete rubbish; she is it. She is All - you Are being irrational - Will you have this Lidl girl To be your lawfully wedded wife?! - All right, that's it - wait… Am I biting my lip?

Self-consciousness will do the trick.

Snap out of it. Remember, you can't Flirt for shit. This Is your Cease and desist.

The line is moving again, slow as can be.

Let the world diminish to vagueness, again.

Adopt patience as a virtue.

Patience is Not needing to be Anywhere but here.

I agree.

… that smile, though.

--- 5-5-2025, M.A. Tempels ©

[ruckooos]

(I couldn't figure out how to at you, so apologies for that, but here u go rynxi! U didn't specify what kind of fiction u wanted so I just made hc + fic, hopefully it's fine. And I also made her like around 12 cuz I thought it would make it cuter). Sorry if it wasn't what u wanted!! If you want, I can totes make a part 2

MY HERO

(F!reader watches her dad train in secret, and tries to do the same when he leaves)

Y/N looked up to her father, like he was as powerful as a deity. His devotion to his family, his clan, and his formidable gentility. She wanted to be like him; just like him!

She wanted to make him proud, it was her dream to prove that she could be just as strong as how she saw him

Kenshi would train in the family home's gym, the garden, where a metal structure stood tall on the ground. The family home sat in the center of gorgeous valleys and mountains, granting a golden hour glow to his practicing dojo. The pine trees rustled with a gentle breeze, enough to cool a sweat, but not cold enough to shiver. It was a perfect place.

Y/N knew his schedule: 5:30 PM sharp, sparring with the stationary mannequins that spun with each blow for an hour and a half, then returning back to the house for dinner.

5:25, she ran to her window, which faced the gardens, and patiently awaited her hero to arrive outside. 5 minutes pass, and like clockwork, Kenshi strides out of the door and in front of the metal training dummies, with Sento in hand.

Y/N was excited. She saw the same exercises and moves every single day, but to her, it meant she got to see her father's skill again and again. She was too embarrassed to ask him if she could watch him next to him, for she knew he'd say no.

"It's too dangerous, darling. I promise I will show you sometime." He'd say. But he was a busy man, leading his people; she knew he wouldn't fulfill the offer.

She excitedly saw him slice and lay blows on the metal. With aplomb, he'd grant strike after dash after kick after stab. It was like art; flowing through violence and brutality as his form was impeccable. He struck hard at the structure, the spokes would spin equally as quick and hard; he blocked and landed a swift cut with Sento.

It was part of his routine, as well, to exponentially deal with more of the dummies at a time -and as the hour passed, he was easily dealing with three at the same time!

Y/N clapped silently, seeing her superhero below fight. He made her feel safe, how could he not when she saw how easily he could damage three structures of metal?!

She fantasized in her head: One day, a bad guy will attack her or an innocent person. She'd grab his arm and give him blows and strikes, just like the ones her Papa dealt. Y/N would then slash the bad guy with a sword and save the day!!

She also constantly thought of having her own sword; preferably one like Sento, so that she could be just like him even more. The sleek, svelte, and transgenerational blade with a scarlet, leather handle... just imagine how it'd feel to win with that thing!

She grinned at the thought. "I wanna be a hero too, just like you..." She whispers, looking at her superhero outside.

Speaking of, he was landing swift hits one after the other on all three; his attacks were going so quickly she couldn't even make sense of his limbs anymore.

Suddenly, he released a whole airborne kick, jumping into the air and digging his heel into the metal. She gasped. The metal dented at the contact, and snapped completely off of its post!

Y/N's jaw dropped. Just... how??? Pure metal?? He kicked it???? She just... couldn't even fathom it. She was giddy in the inside, swelling with pride, she almost couldn't contain herself!

But she had to stay quiet.

She returned to the window and saw her father shake his head in annoyance, setting aside the iron structure and returning into the house.

"Hmmmm..." a plan was abrewing.

Dinner was amazing, but not because of the food. She sat right across from her superhero, watching him eat with a grin on her face. It was strange how much of a celebrity she saw him as, even though she's known him for every day of her life.

Kenshi noticed the eyes. "Are you alright, Y/N?"

"Yes, papa, I'm fine!" She smiled back, returning to her food. Y/N made sure to eat her pork cutlets, every single part of it, including the fat and the greens (she hated those). She had to be quick, and be on her best behavior; she had a plan, finally.

"Well aren't you in a good mood?" Her mother poked, jocosely, "You're eating your cabbage, you normally don't do that!"

"Change of heart.." Y/N shrugged, giggling in the inside.

"Why all of a sudden?" Her father laid a finger on Sento, seeing his little girl smiling. He smiled as well.

"Welllll...." Y/N giggled, although slightly panicking on the inside. Should she tell? Should she hint? Should she lie? Hmmmm....

Kenshi raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer. But he wouldn't receive it.

"I'm just really starting to appreciate plants..." Y/N lies, shrugging. Kenshi rolled his eyes (if he had any), holding Sento again and looking at Y/N. But no. She looked normal. She wasn't hiding anything (physically, he means), and she wasn't the type to ask for toys or games. What was she hiding? He shook off the question, just gladly accepting she was eating healthily, and went upstairs. He was exhausted. Y/N smiled widely; her plan was close to unraveling.

After helping her mother in the kitchen, and parting ways to the land of slumber, Y/N waited about 10 minutes in her bed, keeping her mind awake with her goal, fighting off sleep. Get the metal! The plan was simple: Drag the training dummy up to her room, hide it during the day in her closet, then pull it out and practice whenever her father would also practice outside. This was her shy way of training alongside him. Was it foolproof? ....no. but it's the thought that counts.

After the 10 minutes were up, she quietly slipped out of her sheets, tiptoeing into the dark halls. Her bare feet padding against the cold wooden floorboards as she lightly made her way down the stairs, avoiding the spots that made the most creaks. Finally, after what felt like a month long stealth mission, she made it to the first floor. Y/N he made her way to the back door, past the kitchen and into the cold backyard. The moon lit up the land with a dark blue glow, iluminating it just enough for her to see without light. The trees rustled gently, but each wave semt hurdles of cold air hurling at Y/N's face. She felt her shoulders shudder, her fingers hurting, and her face started to burn; It was freezing outside! But Y/N instead took it like a challenge.

She'd heard stories from her father, how he helped save Earthrealm, fighting monsters and bad guys with Sento. He'd taught Y/N the importance of discipline, and she saw her fighting through the cold as a testament to that.

Y/N searched for the metal scrap but to no avail. Father must have thrown it out already! Fuck! Oh- she's not old enough to say that yet... She sighed. Her head hung low in disappointment, and she turned around to return to her room. Until...

How stupid of her! She didn't need the scrap! She was right there in the training grounds!

With rekindled hope, she ran back to the fighting dummies, standing straight up the ground. She tested them, by spinning them around and landing a few light punches. They worked well... well there was no excuse now.

With weeks of watching her father's form from the sidelines, she tried a common combination he'd always do. He dashed it right; then dealt a blow straight to the left; ending with a jump and a kick in the center. The first two were simple enough, although her poor hands were too untrained and brittle from the cold to be as firm as his, but the third was the challenge.

She either fell back on the ground before she could kick, or pushed herself away from the dummy, sending her tumbling back. Y/N groaned in frustration. What was she missing?? She tried again. Then again. Then 10 times. Then 20.

She felt herself getting sloppier, more desperate instead of focused. Y/N was on the brink of giving up.

"What are you doing so late, YN?" The soft, paternal voice chimed calmly from behind. Y/N's head snapped back like a band, and there her father stood. Sento was strapped to his back, and he was wearing his night clothes, with a thin jacket put loosely over his shoulders. "Well? You're going to give yourself a cold. You have to be up early tomorrow!" He sighed.

His tone was firm, and with an expression hidden by distance and a red cloth, Y/N stammered. He must've been angry at her.

"I was..." She felt the hard lump in her throat and heat in her nose, tears forming in her eyes from intimidation and embrassment. Kenshi walked slowly to her, hands behind his back. He placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder. He raised an eyebrow.

Y/N sighed. "I want to start training... like you do! Night seems to be the only time I can do it uninterrupted..." She looks down at the ground, her tail far between her legs; she waited for him to tell her off and send her to her room. And she would wait for nothing.

Kenshi seemed to chuckle warmly, very softly, just above an exhale. Y/N looked up at him, seeing the corner of his lips curl into a warm, fatherly smile. One of pride.

"I see... I assume this is because I never make the time to do it myself?"

Y/N nods, sheepishly.

His smile only grew wider. He patted her on the shoulder, and from his back pulled out a thin jacket. "I saw you from the window the moment you stepped out... I just wanted to see how you'd go about the challenge. I only stepped out now because you seemed like you were going to relent, and I don't want you to do so. Now, put it on." Y/N was shocked, but obeyed. Her mind was running tracks with thoughts -was this the day (or night) that her father would train her??

"You seem to only jump upwards, love; there is no power in that." He turns her back around to the dummy. "When you jump upwards, your strength only goes upwards, leaving nothing to power you forwards. Try it again."

Y/n stammered in surprise, but did as she asked. It felt so strange; her dream of training alongside him was becoming true? It made her happier than she could even fathom! She did as she was told, jumping towards the dummy with her leg outstretched.

"Stop." Her father said, gently grabbing her leg to stop her from continuing. "You don't stretch it immediately. The energy of your stretch will prove for naught. Instead, you unfurl it mid air. Like this." He demonstrated, moving her gently to the side. Her father did his classic two-side strike, ending it with a forward jumping, unraveling kick. Y/n was left in awe. When seeing it in person, it felt more powerful than a view from above.

"I see..." She said, noticing how he would only unsheath his leg the closer he got. She tried it once more.

She struck the dummy left and right, but her father had criticisms for it as well.

"Do not lean your body forward. It all relies on the hip, dear." Y/N did it again, following his instructions as attentively as she could. But he still had critiques. "Do not try to hit it directly in the front, my Y/N. Strike it to the side."

She'd try it again, hitting from the hip and towards the side. But her father kept pointing out more and more foibles. "Your feet are not anchored correctly." "You're relenting." "Strike from the side!" "Don't lean forward, stay straight"

Y/n felt herself getting more and more discouraged. Like no matter what she did, she could never get anything right. Attempt after attempt, she wasn't able to eve succeed once. But Kenshi never seemed to show any signs of irritation at her repeated failures. He held the same look of hope no matter the outcome of

"You're starting to relent. I can see it." Her father said to her. "No matter how many times you fall, you must get up and do it again. That is the only thing you must master to become a true fighter. Not the skill, the strength or the power; just the perseverance. Try it again, my dear."

Y/N didn't know if she believed him. She heard him, but all she could feel was disappointment in herself. But her father's words gave her the hope to try again.

She took a deep breath, collected herself, and moved. She anchored her feet, straightened her back, and used the twist of her hip to strike the dummy at the side. It spun wildly, its spokes spin like a bike. Y/n was stunned for a split second, but she didn't stop. She jumped forward, keeping her leg kept in a fold until the last moment, then unsheathing it right into the center of the dummy. A loud clang echoed into the night, as y/n stumbled to the ground.

"Excellent! Absolutely excellent, my Y/N!" Kenshi congratulated, beaming with pride, more emotion on his face than y/n has ever seen. He gently grabbed her and brought her up to the feet, holding her close into a deep, deep hug. He wrapped his arms around her tight and lifted her up to the air. In the midst of the hug, she looked over his shoulder to see the dummy. In the center of the kick, lay a huge dent.

Afterwards, she went back to bed, not after whole speeches of pride from her father. He promised her that he'd make time to train with her more, but only after heaps of apologies for making her feel that she had to train in secret.

But y/n was just proud she was able to prove herself, not only to herself but to her father. Maybe she had what it took to be a fiersome fighter like her hero was.

She'd never forget this day.

Authors notes:

Whooooooo!! So sorry this took so long, my ruffle, there were a lot of technical errors that made this hard to do, but im glad I got this done cuz I think it looks amazing!!!! ^_^ have fun yallz

[br-uwu-cewayne]

thinking about a young, stereotypically pretty-boy (for masculinity in the 70’s) Gordon starting on the force

and the idea that some of his key personal traits and habits and appearance - the big glasses, thick mustache, perpetual 5 o’clock shadow, close shorn hair, disheveled style, big coat, open “disdain” for the more “ridiculously elaborate” svelte dress and personal care habits of his affluent peers like the Waynes and other key Gotham political and financial figures - all stemmed from trying to hide that

just… one too many uncomfortable looks from his superior officers… one too many snide comments from his other brothers compatriots allies coworkers competitors rivals enemies on the force around him…

and that strategizing brain tick-tick-ticks ahead calculation the risks and the dangers and the suitable solutions and the next pair of glasses he buys are chunky enough to hide his bright eyes still soft and not crinkling around the edges or baggy beneath yet, and a scraggly mustache slowly starts to overtake his pretty, pouting upper lip, and the classic seventies ginger waves curling just below his ears get buzzed in tight to match the butch, military look of the rest of his department and he slams that closet door tighter and tighter shut

and STILL he feels like a sore thumb of a target for the first few years, sticking out swollen and unnatural and all the more obviously an interloper. like trying and failing to emulate masculinity makes it even plainer that he wasn’t built for it.

until one day he puts his glasses on and notices his mustache has really properly come in nice and full and he’s become accustomed to how his short hair has settled around his brow and he’s even packed on a few strong pounds around his shoulders and midsection, soft but sturdy

and it’s not the same kind of comfort he used to feel when he looked at himself and would fantasize having the freedom of the long-haired hippie boys in their lanky bodies and lively flowers and flowing clothes and wandering hands and open thighs

but seeing a new prescience, that of the powerful men in those Other magazines, with their thick facial and body hair and dirty greasy jeans and white tank tops pulled tight around large chests and bellies and powerful hips and big wide palms and eyes honed sharp and piercing by the experience of the world… the sort of eroticized masculinity pouring out from the centerfolds of the magazines he hid under his bed until his marriage…

it’s not like he hadn’t been settled with himself before. it’s not like he didn’t feel like a man, or thought men couldn’t or shouldn’t BE pretty… but as much as he hates to credit the fear and the pressure of trying to survive amongst those wolves with ANYTHING, he hadn’t exactly been HAPPY either. Had never sought out his own manhood, didn’t think anything of it all really.

Not like he does now, decades later, no longer playing a character with it but embodying it fully. in fact, so much so he’s having to temper it in a different way - fear of enjoying it too much, knowing that to keep flying below the radar he has to walk a fine, fine line.

Juuuust masculine enough, juuuuuust All American Man enough, knowing that if he enjoys it a little Too Much and pushes it a little Too Far someone will spot the caricature of it all and see him for what he is. But he’s had practice. Between the Chicago and Gotham police forces he’s come up in the toughest, most judgmental, most back-biting pit of hissing vipers looking for any weakness to exploit. He knows how to straddle the line between Performance and Genuine to keep those baying hounds off track - tossing them just a bit of scent they expect so they never sniff around any closer. So they presume they’ve found all there is and skulk off in search of a different target.

Yeah, he knows how to make sure the self-centered power-hungry ambition-blind cops and politicians and criminals and even his wife only see what they expect to see. What they WANT to see. After twenty years, he’s finally confident in that.

So he’s utterly unprepared when this fucking nutcase in kevlar armor shows up all genuine and honest and moral as fuck despite the violence he enacts, who’s eyes and words cut sharp as the curved blades he throws straight through Jim’s mask just as clearly as the Gordon can’t make heads or tails of the caped stranger’s own.

[insanityclause]

Much Ado About Nothing: A gloriously giddy staging – with dad dancing from Tom Hiddleston

Hiddleston and Hayley Atwell are a hoot, gamely surrendering to the spirit of Jamie Lloyd’s bonkers production – pink confetti and all

5/5

Dominic Cavendish, Chief Theatre Critic

This is more like it. After the wash-out of Jamie Lloyd’s production of The Tempest, botching the grand return of Shakespeare to the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, comes a bonkers but brilliantly inventive Much Ado that gives us (and Lloyd) something to smile about, providing a much-needed blast of fun and pop-saturated theatrical sun. Where Sigourney Weaver flopped as Prospero, Hayley Atwell and Tom Hiddleston have fans queuing for the stage door, not just because of their A-list allure (they’re Marvel names, both) but because they’re an assured hoot as Beatrice and Benedick.

True to form, Lloyd isn’t giving us a traditional re-tread of the Messina-set rom-com. There’s his standard use of headset mics to amplify the actors, and his customary stripping of the mise-en-scene to the barest essentials; in contrast to the deluxe auditorium, we see the vast, unadorned space.

But far from seeming cheerless, and déjà vu, the approach proves a fresh, unbounded joy. Freeing the action from studious naturalism, and ersatz social context, it’s a teasing provocation, with loud klaxon honks jolting us too. The boldest stroke (design: Soutra Gilmour) is a sustained shower of pink confetti. It’s faintly magical to behold, offsetting plastic chairs below; on another level, it chimes with the play’s tragicomic mix of autumnal wistfulness – these stand-offish rivals in wit are almost at last-chance saloon – and amorous adventure.

That suggests that Lloyd has the thoughtful measure of the work but rather than impose his vision to an inhibiting degree, he trusts his crack cast to deliver the loose-limbed interplay. There are gimmicks galore but there’s a knowingness to them that augments the feel-good energy and ensures that sincerity cuts through the image-conscious facades when it counts.

Atwell is at first sedentary and svelte in a brown jump-suit – a seen-it-all Beatrice, dispensing put-downs at the expense of Hiddleston’s smugly assured charmer, who arrives with fellow booty-shaking entourage to the riotous sound of the Beastie Boys’ Fight for Your Right (To Party!). Though stylish, too, in dark blue trousers and shirt, offset by a garish, glittery belt, he’s pure peacock, prone to thumbs-up gestures and conspiratorial winks (“I am loved of all ladies” is purred to the honey-voiced hilt).

Hiddleston’s game surrender to the carnivalesque spirit of the brisk night contributes to a rising, almost hysterical sense of OTT pleasure – we get cringe disco moves, attempted break-dancing, risible singing, even a flash of his six-pack. Hell, there’s also a modicum ado about a card-board cut-out of Loki (there’s a matching one of Atwell as Agent Carter too).

The gulling sequence is as funny as any I’ve seen, Hiddleston straining to hide himself in confetti, madly rolling upstage then getting submerged beneath a giant inflatable love-heart. That Atwell insinuates deep, dormant wounds at her own duping, and real pain at Hero’s nuptial jilting by the air-headed Claudio, attests to top-tier talent. Lloyd outrageously ditches the tricky Dogberry and co carry-on, truncating the second half, but by this point, and definitely come the moment B&B clinch for some smooching TLC, you’re too smitten to fret.

[akuyaku-monsters]

Stranded in Another World with the Lewd Exorcist Class (Story 1, Part 1)

The Cave Slime was a lot bigger than the guild scouting party reported. Bigger. Tougher. Stronger. More Aggressive. Was it possible for slimes to be mean? Were Dire Slimes even a thing? Charlotte, as a Guild Receptionist, was tasked with filling out report on the expedition. Was she a member of the Adventurer’s Guild? Yes. But, she wasn’t an adventurer! She wasn’t prepared for this! 

At least no one could see just how undignified any of this was. Charlotte’s receptionist uniform, was all smeared with dirt. She had to have the vest exchanged for a new one—in a larger size. Just a season earlier, she had to have the last of the ‘extra’ seam allowance let out in the white button-down shirts she wore as well. Soon, she’d need to buy a whole new set of the matching dark green vest and skirt set. 

Somehow, Charlotte had lost one of her dark brown leather loafers when she tried to run, tripped, and fell right on her face in the dirt. The other one was left behind somewhere early on in the trail the Slime dragged her down. 

Yes. The slime. The ooey-gooey slightly transparent critter that was supposed to be easy pickings for literally any newbie adventurer with third-rate spell casting abilities.  The easy-peasy pest monster that even little kids could defeat sometimes. Yes, that same one. The same one that had somehow managed to knock out or otherwise incapacitate the entire exploratory force that the Five-Wings Guild had waiting to gather for a deep-dive into a dungeon rumored to have suddenly grown a new floor. 

It was nearly 20 D-ranks, 5 C-ranks, and a veteran B-rank Fighter. Yes. A combined combat force that should have not defeated a slime so quickly that it would not have even been noticed. And yet, there was no on left to rescue Charlotte, the unfortunate Guild Receptionist as well as one of the C rank adventurers from that same exact slime. 

Just how long would it take for someone to notice something was wrong? They were supposed to check in after sunset, after everyone had come back up from the initial exploration. But, that would be nearly 6 or 7 hours. Since everyone was knocked out, there was no one to send a message back to the guild for help. And if anyone would have been the superior choice, it would have been Lin Lin the rogue. 

Yes, that Lin Lin. The one that was also being dragged off to who-even-could-imagine where by the slime, right next to Charlotte. Hah. Yeah, if Charlotte had gotten her choice, Lin Lin would have been the one she sent back for help. The speedy young lady would have gotten back to town in half the time it took anyone else. 

But that slime had shot some sort of liquid with the speed of a longbow and knocked Lin Lin out first before attending to everyone else in the gathered exploration party, and then making off towards the back of the first cave section. Then it paused, noticed Charlotte hiding under the folding table she was taking notes at. And it grabbed her. For one, no slime should have actually shown any sign of intelligence, never mind actually looking like it examined Charlotte before kidnapping her. 

Then there was the second issue. 

Why the hell did the Slime grab both the cute young redhead rogue from the guild and also Charlotte?! If this happened to be some sort of perverted, naughty-tentacle situation, Lin Lin was an obvious choice! After all, the young rogue was barely into her twentieth year: svelt and slim where she was supposed to be and perky where it counted. Lin Lin looked like she belonged in this world. And she had the speed and dexterity that suited her class. Ah, youth was wonder—that was not the point! 

The point was that Charlotte, pushing 33, and now an unwilling victim of gravity and a slowing metabolism, was also getting dragged off by the giant blobby blue slime towards what was probably the back of the cave. Hopefully not to die via digestion. Charlotte never would have said she was particularly ugly. But, she was decidedly softer than she was in her first world, over a decade ago in her college days. Especially around the thighs and her stomach. And, well, she just wasn’t quite as ‘proud and perky’ as she was back in the day, even if she had gained a little fullness. 

When she first came to the second world, Charlotte did receive a class. Was it a fighter? Or a wizard? Would she get to shoot fireballs and Drago-Slaves like she had always wanted? Hell no. Her class was stated as ‘Lewd Exorcist’ but there was a little asterisk by it. A popup stated, as if making fun of her, ‘You can pacify angry monsters by getting fucked by them.’ 

All of this had to be a punishment of some kind. Was it because she masturbated too much to fictional characters? Or because she spent her money on custom dildos ostensibly shaped like the genitals of various fantasy monsters? Or was it her secret tentacle kink? 

Regardless, Charlotte had decided that maybe she needed a change. Her and eyes had changed to a dark, almost pine dark green. So maybe she should give up the Pervert Life and try to be normal. She decided to forget her class—which was probably just divine punishment of some kind—and get a secure, stable, and less dangerous job. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Charlotte noted that she would have to get a new Guild Uniform. Because the one she wore got all kinds of torn up, and was only shredding more. Some of is was probably just gone. 

It was fucking dark, ok? Charlotte couldn’t see anything, and there were no torches or magic stones along the wall to provide any light. For an undetermined amount of time, Charlotte could only feel the tight grip of the slime’s (tentacle? Pseudopod?) around her midsection as it carried her deeper and deeper into the cave.  Next

[shibazoid]

Legacy of Manwich {2.1} Downhill From Here

Hey, Lillie! Looks like you're mentally stable and well taken care of!

Yes, you're seeing correctly! Martin really won the incel lottery in Lillie here. Not only was she willing to be impregnated by him, but she's also perfectly content being a total tradwife and never leaving the kitchen. Seriously, she cooks ALL DAMN DAY.

God, do you know how many dudes would kill to have a hot woman make them pancakes in her skimpy undies every morning?

King Martin: "I am the luckiest man in the world."

I'll say. Lillie's gorgeous. I'm a little scared how his genes are gonna mix with hers, though. Their kids have the potential to be really dumpy looking.

Lillie's pregnancy is already off to a really bad start. As soon as she conceived, her needs just plummeted and stayed that way. Honestly, I don't know why I'm surprised she's in the kitchen cooking so much, she's constantly starving.

COME ON! YOU'VE EATEN LIKE 5 ENTIRE MEALS TODAY!! Okay, fine, Martin just got home, you can make dinner for the both of you.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!

Lillie: "I'm huuuuungry, I don't wanna wait the 10 literal seconds it takes for Sim food to cook!"

I DON'T WANNA WAIT THE EXTRA 10 SECONDS IT TAKES FOR A SIM FIRE TO START, PUT THE FUCKING CREAMER AWAY

Lillie: "How'd it get burned?!"

Asking like it's anyone's fault but your own. I had her study fire safety after this because without fire alarms, every time one of these wieners opens the fridge my ass clenches with the dread of my ancestors.

Hey Lillie, should I go with the firecrotch joke for this frame or should I make a different fire-related sexual pun?

Lillie: "Do you think the baby'll be okay if we have sex?"

Eh, what's a little in-utero trauma?

Now that's pretty bad for the baby. Could you abstain from alcoholism until the thing's born, at least?

Lillie: "But I ate all the food in the fridge, this is all that's left!"

Lillie: "If beer killed babies, then they wouldn't sell it in grocery stores!"

Not to inspire any would-be baby killers, but you can buy a lot of things that are fatal to infants at your local Kroger. Speaking of which, Martin has some errands to run.

Six hundred dollars for groceries? THANKS BIDEN

I need to build a proper grocery store so you aren't going to the moldy-ass Weigel's every time you need sugar and milk.

Bully: "I am never going to show my face in any of these."

Are you in witness protection? Are you hiding from Sideshow Bob? You are the Sims equivalent of a Twitter troll with no profile picture and a handle like "george6783873827."

Bully: "NO I'VE BEEN DOXXED!"

Sorry, just wanted to take a picture of PHAROAH HOBBS, my favorite townie. He's like the bizarro version of Martin that's svelte and handsome and gets loads of ass.

I KNOW LILLIE I SUCK AT TAKING CARE OF YOU! I am so tired of her being pregnant, she is just constantly hungry and miserable.

Lillie: "Maybe I should take up a hobby. Like painting!"

Good idea! Let's get you an easel!

Okay, no, never mind, I think your creative impulses should be stifled.

Martin got a new job and a promotion, so I got to expand the house a little bit! Lillie's about ready to burst, and I only had enough money left over for one crib, so fingers crossed it's just a single baby!

These two are obsessed with each other, by the way. Without my intervention, they'd just make out until they starved.

Lillie: "I'm so tired of this painting!"

Wish I could say it got to stick around, but she had to sell it. Whatever dumb asshole bought it for 200+ dollars is a mystery.

King Martin is NOT AMUSED. He hung up on her lmao

What's wrong, buddy? Is it the massive amount of unpaid bills on the ground, or is it the fact that your imaginary girlfriend is trying to corrupt your wife?

King Martin: "I have a bad feeling about work today. :("

Aw, don't worry so much. What's the worst that could happen?

SIGH

Lillie sensed her husband's incompetence and immediately gave birth in protest.

King Martin: "HONEY HONEY STOP SCREAMING I GOT A PROMOTION!"

CAN IT WAIT YOU FUCKING ONE-UPPER?

BEHOLD, GENERATIN TWO!! Of course, Lillie had twins. Up top is Goneril, and down below is Regan. Only Goneril got Martin's eye color, Regan has all of Lillie's coloring. (For some reason this started a Shakespeare naming theme that I autistically adhere to for the rest of the legacy)

Huh? Why's Regan on the floor? Where'd Martin go?

King Martin: "Thank God that's over. Time to relax!"

THIS BETTER NOT BE A PORTENT OF NEGLECT TO COME

Good luck, babies! I have very little faith that your parents are going to be attentive or loving!

Next time: I'm right, they're terrible parents.

[gluttonygirls]

Idol AU where the plus-sized idol Remilia is being protected by her cool and stoic bodyguard Sakuya! (Aya is paparazzi and attempting to prove the rumour that the both of them are a couple.)

Remilia purposefully only had one chair in her dressing room, for a variety of reasons.

For one, it was a sign of just how important she was. In her presence, the biggest idol of the year, no one else was allowed to take a seat. They could stand, they could kneel, but only she was allowed the sanctity of a seat.

The other reason was because it made her look cute. Her ass was huge, straining the frills of her pop-idol dress as she sat down. The entire chair practically vanished, the 5 foot tall, 800 pounds heavy idol making the seat invisible as her hips hung over the edge, fat cheeks bloating to the sides.

And the final reason was that there was no where for pesky paparazzi to hide.

"Sakuya?"

"Yes, my Lady."

As Remilia watched in the mirror, she saw her bodyguard get to work. Classy, refined, svelte, and strong, Sakuya was the pinnacle of protective services. Swiftly making her way over to the rack of very plus sized outfits near the wall, she reached in. Lifting someone out of the pile of clothes by the collar, Aya dangled in Sakuya's grasp. Feet kicking, trying to find purchase, she snapped a picture of the blubbery idol.

"Bloody★Star Remilia! Wait, wait! Just a few quest- hey!"

Yelping as Sakuya yanked the camera out of her hands, Aya kept struggling as Sakuya marched her towards the door.

"Is it true that you eat 50,000 calories a day!? Do you really come up with your songs yourself, or is there a ghost writer?! Is it true that you pay your bodyguard by sitting on theeeeeeEEEEEMMMMM!!"

Yelping as she was thrown out of the room, Sakuya slammed the door behind Aya. Dropping the camera and crushing it under her foot, Sakuya smoothed out her uniform.

"Sakuya? A moment."

The bodyguard nodded, stepping over to her fat, fat employer. Leaning down, she let the idol grab her tie, and without resistance she was dragged down to a kiss. Huffing, her knees went weak, falling down next to the superstar as she collapsed. Kneeling, leaning against her, Sakuya's hands sank deep into Remilia's belly.

"Good dog~ Keep watch on my things while I'm on stage, alright?" Remilia breathed her in ear, lightly scolding her. "After all, last time you left to watch, a pair of my underwear went on E-Bay."

Sakuya shivers.

She regretted letting some thief steal Remilia's underwear.

She didn't regret spending 40,000 dollars later that evening.

[xamaxenta]

Alright I’m bored and tired

So let’s list off some horny concepts to get the neurons firing shall we?

1. Dragodile lesbians (idk just really big tits)

2. Marsabo one or both wearing cock rings

3. MAS trans sabo with her massive horse cock and her two buxom gfs

4. Marace abo alpha Marco that acts like a omega and omega ace who keeps getting leaky tits

5. Dragodile dragon getting his prostate tortured crying and drooling

6. Sexy secretary getting knocked up by his boss (possible crime boss)

Number 6 pllleeaasee i need it to be acebo/saboace

That being said !!!!! More under cut bc i replied super long…

1. God!!!??? You do understand … theyre both equally stacked… breasts for DAYS. Breasts for WEEKS they’re both in corsets and skin tight skinny bell bottom jeans and knee high heeled bootie/combat boot combos thyre serving MILF but also the kind thats taken and youre never gonna get a chance even tho they’re complicated rn 💔

2. They… would make it a goddamn game, Sabo snapping pics of his lik chastity cage and then the raunchiest selfie ever like hey baby got myself all pent up n waiting for u to come home, Marco gets home rock solid eager to play like so whats the catch? Sabo laughing like ive got a lil game for you, if you decipher this puzzle you get to find where ive hidden the key to the cage, fail in the hour timelimit and you dont get to cum or get fucked, marco who desperately wants to get fucked by sabo getting all fired up like !!! He will unlock the at cage and get sabos dick its like saw if it was sexy lmao

3. OH. Lesbian MAS!!! But Marco and Ace being cisfem/afab and amab trans fem Sabo !!!! ? Shes so fucking pretty you know it … 😭 i know you meant theyre all ladies but now im stuck obsessed over transfem Sabo it just feels right or theyre genderfluid, and in any au ofc sabos got the biggest dick to dick down his/her partners :3 you know she got both her ladies gagging for it esp Ace my beloved cockwhore

4. Ohhh Ace nesting SUPER DUPER HARD WITH MARCO BC HES SO… MILFY… older mature Omega vibes even tho hes actually genetically an Alpha, actually fuck it!! Biological gender chimaera Marco who after eating his DF has both omega instinct frm it but biology of an alpha, Ace lactating CONSTANTLY from the overstimulation of being mated to him bc omega?!? Comforts!? But also his big soft alpha mate? Hes so wet and constantly dripping both his tits and his cunt 😩💦 hes just a happy lil thing mwah i love this one anon !!!

5. Its rly fun to imagine Dragon looking for a dom and getting all the paperwork sorted and getting introduced to his dom and its also like sugar daddy vibes bc Crocodile is so disgustingly wealthy dudes got a WHOLE ASS DUNGEON and hes just a dragon, let him get trussed up like a festive turkey and have Crocodile stream him squirming and struggling directly into his office, addresses Dragon by vocal cue alone via mic its all consensual and kinks they both enjoy and its all so he can see a powerful figure like Monkey Dragon get unwelded at the SEAMS!!!

6. Annnnd yeah i want this so bad for saboace acebo idc whos the mob boss wife here either is sublime bc Sabo being this absolute insane crime syndicate owner, diabolical and untouchable with his gorgeous trophy wifehusband Ace who has the great potential to be some famous public figure like an actor or smth, and hes like the publics darling so their dynamic is so spicy like my husband is a murderous black market dealing weapons distributing demon and i love him!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Alternatively mob boss Ace is hot in general like built his own family and theyre close knit super loyal band of misfits and outcasts whatever, probably owns a huge chain of casinos and hes always in the house, hes just such a threatening presence too but hes not the real danger but his svelte ultra smoking hot ex assassin wife Sabo, like sabo was sent to take Ace out but failed bc Ace seduced him and they got married, try harm a hair on Aces head and Sabo will bear down upon you with the wrath of all seven hells, hes a menace in stilettos and hes got knives all tangled up in his pantyhose !

[definegodliness]

She made it for me

She lifted the glass jar that Kept my brain With two hands, gently, before her face; So, I had eyes To meet her gaze.

The cold and harsh of my confinement Turned warm and pliant; Wet, at the touch of her lips; So, I had a mouth To bend in a smile by the thrill of her kiss.

She gave me blood, And a heart to pump it; flustering spaces By will of her fingers.

Searching, svelte, Hers wove through the aether Till interlacing; electromagnetism surging. So, I had hands To caress and feel her, Soft At my palms; heated At the singe of my fingers' Exploration.

She kissed me a body in pecks of stardust.

She, my worshiping eyes. She, my devotional mouth. She, my venerating fingers.

I had lungs, lastly, by the deepest yearning To sigh her name.

I had a body. She made it for me To find its home upon completion; To be inside her; we — One in union.

--- 5-7-2023, M.A. Tempels ©

[rabbitcruiser]

International No Diet Day

Drop your rules and restrictions around eating and join a movement of no-shaming body positivity and health-focused education on International No Diet day.

There has been a long-standing movement to shed the shame typically associated with being less than Hollywood perfect. The photoshopped images found in fashion and beauty magazines have been marked as a direct cause of a rising instance of eating disorders among the youth.

Too long has health been associated with unrealistic body types and unhealthy, dangerous fad diets. International No Diet Day has been pushed forward with the intention of promoting healthy lifestyles for all body types.

History of International No Diet Day

International No Diet Day was first started by Mary Evans in 1992. The purpose of the day was to help men and women around the world to appreciate their own bodies. Having gone through anorexia herself, Mary began Diet Breakers, which is her organization. She then created the first International No Diet Day, bringing attention to the cause, and of course, her organization as well. Now, the day is used to help tackle tough issues regarding diet and body awareness, focusing on a number of agendas. This includes the following…

Educating people about the right way to diet responsibly and effectively

Having all people take a one-day break from their diets

Celebrating the diversity of different shapes and sizes

Bodies can be beautiful at all shapes and sizes, with both the svelte look of the athletic beach nut and the more Grecian and Rubenesque body types merely exemplifying the natural body type. Considering that the failures of dieting often result in yoyo-ing weight, with all of the weight lost being regained in almost every case within 5 years. To combat these incredibly unhealthy habits organizations all over the world have been engaged in forcing the fashion industry to label those images that have been modified, or outlawing the use of photoshop altogether.

How to celebrate International No Diet Day

Celebrating International No Diet Day is best done by recognizing that your own body is beautiful exactly as it is. De-emphasizing your efforts to shed weight to look a particular way, it is far better to celebrate the holiday with efforts at beginning to live a healthier lifestyle altogether. Worry less about your final goal, and more about getting out and being active and keeping your body healthy. Losing weight rapidly or shooting for unrealistic body types is an excellent way of causing yourself harm in the pursuit of greater health. Instead, love your body by finding active hobbies and love yourself the way you look!

There are a number of different ways that you can participate in International No Diet Day. This includes the following…

Help end weight discrimination, fatphobia, and sizeism.

Understand the inefficacy of commercial diets and learn about the diet industry.

Embrace body diversity and challenge the idea of one ‘right’ body shape.

Declare a day that is free from dieting and obsessing about shape and weight.

Compliment colleagues on contributions, achievements, and skills, rather than focusing on appearance.

Here are some of the suggestions that we have to help you make the most of this day…

Eat what you love! Don’t worry about the calories or anything like this. Instead, eat what you truly want to eat because it tastes good. Let that be your only concern today.

Throw away your scales. Don’t judge yourself based on a number. You will be surprised by how liberating this feels.

Instead, celebrate and embrace your intrinsic qualities, such as your uniqueness, quirkiness, kindness, or strength, for instance!

Be adventurous and cook something that you have always wanted to but you have never cooked before.

You can also use International No Diet Day in order to make people aware of different eating disorders. There are so many ways that you can go about this. If you have had your own personal experience and you feel ready to share it, you may take this opportunity to start a blog about it. You could also decide to fundraise for those who are struggling with eating disorders. Whether you raise funds or you simply raise awareness, you are going to be doing a great thing to help a lot of people.

However, you should not feel guilty about simply using this day as an opportunity to look after number one! After all, we all need to care for ourselves as well. Why not make a list of all of the things you love about your body? Now is the perfect time to start focusing on the positive rather than the negative. Most of us have a tendency to focus on the things we dislike instead of focusing on what we do like about our bodies. Today is the perfect time for you to change this!

Source

[aviculor]

The thing about pythons is that they're fat. My kingsnake is as long as I am tall and still fits comfortably in my hands so I'm tempted to think "oh, a 5-6 foot snake isn't that big of a deal, actually". But a colubrid is actually a very svelte animal. A constrictor is not. A constrictor is a magnitude of order more girthy than a colubrid of the same length. Anything that grows larger than a ball honestly gets a little daunting. Bloods might be on the smaller side too, but they make up for that by being as thick as my calves. And what do you mean white-lipped pythons grow 6-9 feet? That's another 50% of the size. That is not a margin of error someone can reasonably account for.

It's also really fucked up that balls and burms are the same genus. That doesn't sound right to me.

[companionwolf]

Deadball moments to write--

- Bishop saying FUCK YOU to a rogue umpire and hitting a home run after surviving incineration during the loser's bracket game (Season .5 Game 3)

- Dogwalker POV as the first to be incinerated (Season .5 Game 3)

- Internet and Dogwalker as the first two in the Hall post loser's bracket game (Season .5 Game 3)

- Sky escaping incineration (Season .5 Game 3)

- Persona at the combination failed incineration-successful Feedback resistance during the final 3 team double elim game (Season .5 Game 4)

- Yuniesky loses their hat (Season . 5 Game 5)

- the Blackburn siblings playing their first game against each other (Season .5 Game 5)

- the Walks and their feelings on the first game post losing Internet and Dogwalker (Season .5 Game 5)

- Rebirth and Lopez entering the Hall after incineration + Internet and Dogwalker's reaction (Season .5 Game 5)

- Key Persona entering the Shadows in exchange for Volt Fish due to the Comissioner's favor (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- Sparks Lawless and Liam Baker Alternating due to the Fans selecting Alternate Trust (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- how the Orandas gained the trust of the crows (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- Svelte gains the Gunblade Bat (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- introduce the Laurens-recruited Roamin' player (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- the Fans turn a bunch of players into vampires via Trust because of Parasite (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- Morin and Aviation's reason/s for having Debt (Aviation rolled it on generation, Morin got Nightshade reformed by Fans into it) (Season .5 Earlsiesta/Day 6)

- Morin cursing Anchorage and Heartbreak with Unstable (Season .5 Game 6)

- Wyatt Mason's Fucking Pissed (Season .5 Game 10)

- Koch Leach and their double? (Season .5 Game 10)

- in universe reactions by the Commissioner (Season .5 Game 11)

- Malik's emergence from the Red Hat's Shadows (Season .5 Game 11)

- background lore for the Blackburn siblings