#and i gained weight and the world is getting hotter

[thickest-slimiest-malware]

GUYSSSS i need to live in a little truck please its importamt for my mental health. i dont a want to see my family

[girlthingdecay]

its decided im doing it 0 votes so far im doing it idc

[itsmealaiahh]

Still hot

TW: smut, p in v sex, cowgirl position, head (m rec), virgin! jake, slight profanity, dirty talk, praise kink, making out

Request: can we do a virgin!jake x reader? 💋

Rating: 18+, mdni

Word count: 1k

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are very much appreciated

The sun dips below the horizon, casting the world in shades of pink and orange, and the air is alive with the sound of crickets. You and Jake have been making out on his bed for what feels like hours now. His hands roam over your body, unbuttoning your shirt and slipping beneath your bra, teasing your nipples until they harden. You moan into the kiss, feeling the familiar ache between your legs grow more insistent with each passing second.

You break the kiss, breathless, and glance down to find that his jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped, tenting out over his growing erection. Without a moment's hesitation, you reach down and grip him through his boxers, feeling the heat and the length of him in your hand. He gasps, his hips bucking involuntarily, and you can tell he's as turned on as you are. You push him back onto the bed, straddling his waist, and with a wicked grin, you yank down his boxers, freeing him from their confines.

Jake's eyes go wide as he stares up at you, and for a moment you think he's going to freak out. But then he blurts out, "I'm a virgin." The words are out there now, hanging between you like a weight. You feel a surge of arousal at the admission, and it's like a switch flips in his brain. He looks at you with a mixture of fear and desire, anxious to see what you'll say.

You lean down, brushing your lips against his ear. "That's even hotter," you whisper, and then you take him into your mouth. His taste is salty and slightly sweet, and he lets out a moan that vibrates against your lips. You start slowly, sucking him deeper and swirling your tongue around him, relishing the feel of him in your mouth. Your hands slide down his chest, over his abs, and lower still, until you find his hardness pressing against your palm. You stroke him in time with your movements, feeling him grow even harder beneath your touch.

Jake's hips begin to move, meeting your rhythm as you suck him off. He digs his fingers into your hair, urging you on, and you can tell he's getting closer. You pick up the pace, wanting to make him lose control. Your hands fly to his shaft, rubbing it all over.

As you feel the first pulse of his orgasm, you slow down, taking him deep and letting him feel every last wave. He gasps, his body tense and shuddering underneath you. His cum fills your mouth, salty and bitter, but you swallow every drop, savoring the taste. When he's finally spent, you pull back, gazing up at him with a satisfied smile.

"Wow," he breathes. "I had no idea it could feel like that."

You smile, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. "Well, I'm glad I could show you."

He looks at you with a newfound sense of appreciation and desire. "I want to feel you inside me," he whispers.

You nod, understanding. "Then let's do this." You reach down and guide his hand to your sex, showing him how wet you are. He gently slips a finger inside, exploring your tightness, and you arch your back, moaning at the sensation.

With a steadying breath, Jake rolls onto his side, positioning himself between your legs. He looks at you with nervous anticipation, his erection still hard and ready. You take his hand, guiding it lower, until he's touching the head of his cock to your entrance. He hesitates for a moment, unsure, before you push him gently, urging him inside.

There's a moment of resistance as he breaks through your barrier, but then he slides in deeper, filling you completely. You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation of being so intimately connected to him. His hips begin to move, slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds a rhythm that feels good for both of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, anchoring him to you as you ride his movements, meeting him stroke for stroke. The air is thick with the sound of their breathing, the crickets providing a hypnotic backdrop to the intimate sounds they make together. Jake's hands roam over your body, tracing circles around your nipples, digging into your hips as he thrusts deeper.

As the passion between you reaches a fever pitch, you feel your own orgasm building, threatening to overwhelm you. You arch your back, pressing your lips to Jake's neck as you come, his name escaping your lips in a shuddering moan. Your muscles clench around him, milking his orgasm from him, and he groans, spilling his release deep inside you.

His weight presses down on you, but it's a welcome feeling, a reminder of the connection you share. You both lie there, panting, your hearts racing, your bodies slick with sweat and each other's essence. He rolls to the side, taking you with him, and pulls you into his embrace. You feel the warmth of his skin, the strength of his arms as they hold you close.

"I had no idea it could be like this," he whispers, kissing your neck. "No idea."

You nestle into his touch, feeling a contentment wash over you. You've given him something he's never experienced before, and in return, he's given you a sense of closeness you've never known. The night air is cool against your bare skin, and you shiver slightly. Jake senses it and draws the blanket up over you, tucking it around your shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice still rough with emotion.

"I'm perfect," you say, and you mean it. You look up at him, feeling a strange mix of affection and desire. "I want to do this again."

He smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "I think that can be arranged."

And with that, he leans in to kiss you, and the world fades away, replaced by the simple, perfect connection between the two of you.

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers

[sporadicthingcollection]

Paint Job (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy indulges his two favorite hobbies: doing your makeup and driving you crazy. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: General. Word Count: ~1k. Warnings: Pregnancy. A/N: my birthday was yesterday so i wrote this for myself

Your belly button popped out. He had no idea until you stripped your clothes off for a nap and fell asleep cradled in that dumb pregnancy pillow you use instead of cuddling with him.

He squints at it. It looks funny. Round. Sticks out. Kinda like...

...hmm.

The intrusive thought hits him like a fish jumping out of the water and into a boat.

You'd look so cute and he'd get to show off his artistic talent. Not to mention that everyone would know whose baby is in your belly. Not that there's any doubt, of course, but he has to mark his territory somehow and he suspects that you wouldn't appreciate being peed on.

(The obvious answer of putting some jewelry on those naked ring fingers of yours has occurred to him many times, but that thought is somehow scarier than fatherhood. So he ignores it.)

Grabbing his bag of tricks from the vanity, he tiptoes to the bed. He sets himself down slowly, gently, carefully. The bed squeaks as he eases his weight onto it, but you don't stir.

He works quickly. First some white greasepaint, squeezed onto his wrist and dabbed onto your belly with a makeup sponge. Follow that with a bit of black paint, applied with a careful stroke of the brush. Then pigment sticks for the detail work and outlines...

The baby seems to enjoy it. It occasionally moves in response to his touch. Nothing herky jerky -- just little shifts and nudges. Makes his heart melt. He can't wait to meet the little rugrat.

And now the piece de résistance, a dab of red right on the mound of your navel.

Et voilà. Perfection.

He leans back to marvel at his artistry as he wipes the extra makeup from his hand. In another life, he'd have made a damn good painter. Hell, maybe he should invest in some acrylics and canvas. Start a money laundering scheme.

Buggy notices that your eyes are open. Two little windows into a warm, dark abyss. The same color as falling asleep in a cozy bed on a cold, dark night.

“Having fun?” you ask.

“Tons,” he says coolly. “How was the snooze?”

“Great, ‘til your kid started tap dancing on my bladder.” You lean back on your elbows as you stretch your legs out, splaying your toes out like Richie does after he wakes up from a nap. Your belly rests on your thighs now. Try as you might, you can't see over the top. “What were you doing?”

He hops off the bed and offers you his arm, easing you to your feet. He guides you to his vanity with a hand on your waist. Your gait has gained a wobble and, while he's never seen anything hotter, being on a constantly rocking ship makes him nervous.

Your eyes go wide when you see his Jolly Roger painted across your stomach, your belly button forming the nose. You twist this way and that, your smile growing with each shift.

He rests his head against yours. “So everyone knows just who put you up the pole,” he murmurs.

“As if there's any question with how handsy you are,” you snort. You turn that warm smile to him. “Love it, Bugs.”

He didn't think you'd be upset, not really, but hearing you happy eases his nerves greatly. “I decided to take an impressionist approach,” he says. “You can tell from the brush strokes and my liberal use of white.”

You were right, that night you first spent together: you laugh like a gaggle of News Coos. Clattery, loud, inelegant. It's his third favorite sound in the world. The second is that snort you make when you're trying not to laugh, and the first is... Well, his pursuit of that sound is what led to your current condition.

He pushes the gag a little further. “Made it during my Alabastan Period, where I was influenced by--” You push your lips against his. He keeps talking, just to annoy you. “--traditional geometric patterns of nomadic--”

You grab his cheeks and shove your tongue in his mouth. Once he's runs out of breath, you pull away with a big red splotch across your smile. “Shut up,” you say.

“Never.” He moves behind you. He pops his hands off to lace his fingers underneath your belly as he drapes his arms around your shoulders. "How's that?"

You sigh in relief as the weight is lifted off your organs, your spine, everything. "Fucking hell, thank you," you breathe.

He makes a mental note to thank the old ex-con who told him the trick. Surefire way to make your old lady love you forever, she'd said, grinning at her husband. How else you think I ended up with having six kids with this knucklehead?

The thought of six little humans running around fills him with dread... but at the same time, everyone loves a family act. Matching threads for everyone, him in his best and you all dolled up like a work of art. Suits for the boys and little tutus for the girls.

Six little faces looking up at him in adoration, six little creatures to do his bidding, six little people guaranteed to worship the ground he walks on...

You snap your fingers in front of him. "Hey. Clown."

That's enough to bring him back to earth. He hopes to every god that will listen that it's just one in there. "Just distracted by your beauty," he says.

You give him a dry look. "Liar."

"Alright, ya got me. I was thinking about your tits." Buggy rests his chin in the crook of your neck. “How much longer?”

You reach up to pat his cheek. “Couple months.”

He groans. “But I wanna meet Buggy Junior noooow-wuh,” he whines.

Your smile vanishes. “Over my dead body you name my kid that.”

“Why not? It's a great name. Buggy Balthazar Zebulon Xerxes Mixolydian Macadamia--” You pinch his lips shut with your fingers, but he keeps talking. “--Jeremiah Jubilee--”

You turn and shove your tongue in his mouth again. He shuts up for good this time.

---

To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[scarlettohairdye]

*CW weight talk*

You know what you don't see people posting about much is their weight GAIN journey, so here's mine! On the left we have me in 2011 at the beginning of my burlesque career. On the right we have me last month in 2023, 12 years later and 30-40 pounds bigger.

I am bigger. I am very fine with that. It's a natural part of getting older, and trying to fight it would both NOT WORK and make me fucking miserable. I have old costumes that don't fit anymore, which is a bit sad, but I can make new ones!

I am still very much of a size that allows me thin privilege on a societal and medical level, but I see people out there in the world worried that five pounds will make them fundamentally unlovable, and I am here to tell you that forty pounds only made me hotter. Like, damn, the way my tits and ass have only grown in power? Incredible work on my part.

Kill the cop in your head that tells you you have to look a certain weigh or meet a certain number on a scale to be worth of respect and love! They're wrong! They're not allowed to be there!

(Oh, also: can't recommend enough that you get rid of your scale. I don't own one. The only reason I know that I weigh 30-40 pounds more than I used to is because I recently went to the doctor and asked when they weighed me since I was curious. 99% of the time I swan about completely unbothered. It's great!)

[bustybounty]

Checking in on the unevenly gaining couple, ten years down the line.

(Link to the previous part)

Ten years later, let's say their growth continued throughout the years, never really having reached a plateau of any kind...Their interest in feeding one another, even beyond mobility was always a - literally - huge part of their romantic relationship.

Some say the belly is a quick way to the heart, and it absolutely is to this people. Except that their bellies are so big that it'd take you far too long to get to the heart...you'd need way more than just a bit of food for that!

They eat truckfuls of food per day, consuming insurmountable amounts of calories like the gluttons they are. This day, they are eating even more to celebrate...the first car that the wife destroyed by just sitting on it! Flattening it into a metal pancake of wrecked materials! It'd be difficult to find anything useful in there.

No doubt she weighed a few tons at least, with plenty of mass despite the softness. "That was so hot babe, I'm so proud of you!" Her husband told her as she giggled a bit. "Oh please! It was even hotter when you did the same to that last food delivery truck."

It seemed like the discrepancy in their supposed balanced mutual weight gain had remained throughout all these years.

"Mmmm, you think so?"

"I know so." She leaned in for a kiss on his huge fat cheek. They were both so fat, yet she was like a smaller blob on top of his body. She used him as a warm, giant, cuddly bed now, with his weight not just being double hers, but probably closer to 10 times her size!

His belly extended so far in front of him, his ass was ginormous, good thing they bought a new house, or he'd have crushed their older one! He had the world record of fattest man in the world for years now, but he just kept expanding on that record as his wife's pampering never ended, they only seemed to get better with time.

They loved each other like this, they wouldn't change a thing. They were still gaining together, even if one of them gained weight so much faster than the other. Of course, while he had only suspected it when they were still on measly three digit weights, his faster fattening rate was impossible to deny now, and of course that higher rate over such a long amount of time as 10 years would cause this tremendous, dramatic difference.

I doubt they'll ever stop swelling together... <3

[shellxrls]

day x of craving pornstache drew.. I can’t, my brain is infected with him and every pic I have saved.. I’m slobbering over my phone because I love that look so muchhh I’m not okay🙁 I internally need him to make a comeback of that pornstache and buffed body but he most likely never will💔 (I still love him tho, he looks wayyy too good in the latest videos)

i think about pornstache drew so often i was just in the shower thinking ab him actually..

if he really loved me he’d bring that and the overgrown blonde mullet back. that’s genuinely the peak of my male attraction like i don’t think a man could ever be hotter to me (other than hayden christensen but that transcends gender entirely).

and don’t even get me started on him bulked PLS i almost think he was more attractive then than he is now (my personal perception). i don’t understand why men now are so scared of gaining weight .. tell me why i once walked into this mans room and there was a picture of snejana onopka staring back at me on his door (top 10 scariest experiences of my life btw). what has this world come to .

[t4tozier]

I kinda think pregnant Jace would be upset at losing his twink status, but Porter would be convinced he's never looked hotter

oh i just Know porter is feral for pregnant jace. he’s obsessed w his own body image so like he gets jace feeling insecure but he loves it. he loves coming up behind him, rubbing his hands over jace’s bump and holding his belly when it starts getting big enough. he loves the way jace’s sharp angles soften, his whole body rounding out. jace complains when porter says something about how he’s gained weight because he thinks it’s an insult but porter means it so genuinely and he Will take all the time in the world to prove it.

[e--mporium]

I absolutely adore gainers and am so attracted to them. And not just because of the fetish lol... When I meet up with a gainer I see someone who is self possessed enough to change their body against social pressure and enjoys his sexuality so much it shows on his body. I love meeting guys who are gay as well as also fat on purpose, owning and living thier preferences and pleasure in rejection of a straight and a thin centric world. The guys who are pervy and loving it by mainstream gay standards.

Of any size, any weight goal, gaining, maintaining, not gaining at all, I find there's something really attractive about a guy who's vulnerable enough to reveal that he could get pleasure from being fat and enjoys playing around social restriction w respect to food. I've met with thin and fat gainers and there's just something really cute and attractive about all of them letting you have this intimacy of knowing the inside of their heads and how the peak of pleasure for them is something society considers strange, banal or to be avoided. It's so attractive to think about some part of a guy wants him to have a round belly and a loose mouth and do the opposite of the mass diet propaganda that penetrates us. It's even hotter when he finds it in himself to act on it. Every intentional bite past satisfied is like machismo to me, sexual self ownership. I want guys like that to look at me, notice me. I want to be close to them, share in that sexuality. I want them to cuddle me, fuck me, and own me.

[forgot-how-catflap-works]

10 Lessons from a transfemme gym rat

I’m the only trans person at my local gym. I sometimes worry that I stick out like, well, the only trans person in a room full of cisfolk. I’m taller than most of the men and broader than all the women; my face often darkened by stubble because I have electrolysis later that week and can't shave; and I have to wear loose fitting shorts rather than tight leggings so that I don't accidently cock slap someone when I’m on the elliptical.

I don’t see any trans fitness content on my feeds either, presumably because the algorithm is as confused about my gender as my parents are. It sort of understands that I am a woman but occasionally forgets, and is utterly dumfounded by the idea that trans people might doing something other than porn and JK Rowling discourse.

Since transition, I can now imagine a future where before there was only a grey expanse. I realised if I wanted to live that future, I needed to start taking better care of myself. So with Lady Ballers still fresh in the cultural consciousness, I stepped foot into a space that felt not only unwelcome, but actively hostile to my presence. Nearly six months on, here’s an incomplete list of what I've learned so far.

1. None actually gives a shit 

What a fucking relief that was! I expected to be immediately clocked and then chased out the building by pitchfork wielding gigachads. But here’s the thing — a little seceret I try to remember while at the gym — literally no one cares or has any interest in me. People do not talk at the gym, they do not make eye contact, they do not smile. They lift weights in the corner or sweat on the treadmills. My presence as a trans person does not factor into their gains, or distract them from scrolling on their phone between sets. Even in my tiny ass local gym, I’m basically invisible. 

2. Take up space

I know it feels hostile out there for trans people at the moment, but for the time being our right to take up space is enshrined by UK law. Cis people take up space all the time. It would never occur to them that they might be unwelcome somewhere, and even if it did that wouldn’t stop them. If you've ever been to a Pride, you know exactly what I mean.

We have the same right to access these facilities as any of those cis dudes full-stacking the chest press. Anti-trans campaigners are trying to exclude us from public life; don't do the work for them by refusing to participate. They will have to physically remove me if they want that, but I’ll be so jacked they won’t be able to. Which brings me to my next point… 

3. Strength is power

If you’re transfeminine, physical strength is power. It is protection. Unless they hit the gym too, most people aren’t as strong as they think they are. Estrogen will prevent you from getting too girthy, but you’ll be surprised how quick you can build muscle with a regular routine. I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been, and I feel confident I could defend myself if necessary just by having that extra raw power on my side. 

I get that plenty of transfemmes want to lean away from physical strength for a number of valid, dysphoria-related reasons. But don’t let it be because society tells you women have to be weak, or that you’re not a real woman because you're strong. That’s some misogynist bullshit. You can be whatever you want. To that end… 

4. Fuck gender

Fuck it right into the bin. The world of physical fitness is incredibly gendered. It relentlessly reinforces the idea that men are supposed to be big and strong, and women are supposed to be thin with a juicy butt. Fuck that. I’m a non-binary transfemme. I want a juicy butt and to be jacked as hell. I want to be able to bodyslam a grown man and look good while doing it. Now more than three years into transition, I’ve left behind certain aspirations of unachievable femininity, but I’ve also never been hotter. I feel like myself in whole new ways. Confident, powerful, beautiful. I am the woman I always too afraid to be, and it fucking rules. 

5. My relationship to my body has changed

I spent the last 33 years disconnected from the sack of meat that contains my unwilling consciousness. Even as transition progressed, I did not want to be a part of my body. But as I exercise, feel my muscles working and my heart pumping, I am connected to it. I am a part of it. There is something beautiful about that. All my life I avoided exercise because I couldn’t stand my physical form. But now I recognise that my body is my home, and I should care for it like I care for the rest of my world. 

6. Exercise is actually good for you 

Every smug prick that tells you that exercise is good for your mental health and general well being was, unfortunately, correct. I want more than nothing else to rot in my own filth, smoking weed and eating doritos until I die. But that leaves me feeling like literal shit, and the improvement I’ve noticed in mood, energy levels, sleep quality and general daily vibe cannot be ignored. I resent this truth, yet here we are. 

Exercise has not “fixed” me or suddenly cured my lifelong depression. I’ve been more depressed in the last few months than I have since I started transition, but exercise was actually the one thing that kept me going. I almost had no choice on whether I went to the gym. It happened at times against my will, but it always improved my mood, even if I did just go right back to a RuneScape-induced fugue afterwards. 

7. Setting the vibe

For whatever reason, gyms love to play Radio 1. I can only assume this is because whoever is in charge of the music was hired by Satan to ruin my day with inane chat and the musical equivalent of liquid diarrhoea. Before you call me a boomer, I was born hating all things popular and despite my best efforts I really can’t find a way to feel any differently about it. 

So if you’re like me, which is to say very cool and refined, you need headphones to blast some raw punk for those weight sessions. I’m talking about Soft Play, Lambrini Girls, Be Your Own Pet, Amyl and the Sniffers. If you’re on the treadmill or elliptical you want an audiobook; something compelling, uncomplicated, and full of action. No mournful dyke lit. I’m sorry fans of Julia Armfield, but Our Wives Under the Sea isn’t going to cut it when you’re only 15 minutes into cardio and already want to die. For my money though, the best cardio option is to hop on a bike, get your Switch out and play Legend of Zelda. “Oh, but what if someone judges me for playing my Switch at the gym?” That person can eat shit. Also, they won't because as highlighted earlier, no one cares! 

8. Leisure centres are your friends

Leisure centres, unlike private gyms, are funded with your taxes. They are the public libraries of getting jacked. Make use of those spaces. They are usually cheaper than the alternative and yes, they might be a bit grottier but they’re still pretty good. Don’t be afraid of the staff, they are there to help you.

Make sure to get an induction too. It should be free and will help familiarise you with the space and how the machines work. Do not wing it unless you wanna show up, cause a scene by hurting yourself and then get taken out on a stretcher. Most leisure centres will also offer to put together a workout plan, and some of the fancier ones will give you a full fitness MOT where you can learn about your bone density and shit. Not my gym, because it’s small and crap. But you probably have better facilities on your doorstep than I do within 20 miles. 

9. The changing room question

You have the legal right to use the changing rooms that align with gender identity. Labour even recently dropped plans to rewrite the equality act, which would have removed that right.  So for now, it's yours — use it. That said, if you’re really nervous about the changing rooms, contact the gym beforehand and ask what their facilities are like. Do they have changing booths? Or gender neutral spaces? 

I rarely if ever change at the gym. I either get ready at home, or even change in my car sometimes like the lil gremlin I am. If that’s not an option, put on your gym clothes under your outfit for the day, and wear something simple like a jumpsuit so you can get changed with minmal fuss. If you absolutely need to change at the gym and aren’t comfortable or don’t feel safe using the changing rooms, use a disabled toilet. That might be controversial, but your safety and comfort matters. If people are going to give you shit, or if you don’t have access to the facilities you need to feel safe, claim space where you can. As long as you are respectful of others who need that space too. 

10. Don’t get in your own way

This is where I will do the most projecting, but as someone who is both trans and autistic, I really thought going to the gym would be too fraught an experience for me to handle. I worried that I was going to get clocked, or ridiculed or harassed or merely perceived against my will. 

But let me remind you: No one else cares. You are allowed to be there. You are entitled to these spaces. If someone gives you shit, whether that staff or users, report them to management. File a formal complaint. Make it clear what actions they take to make it right. Advocate for yourself. If that’s too overwhelming, ask a friend to help. Hell, drop me a line and I’ll put those bitches in their place for you. 

Yes, it’s fucking exhausting having to fight for every inch of space, every moment of safety, but fuck the rest of the world. If they can’t handle our presence, that’s their problem. Soon you’ll be jacked as hell and able to throw them down a well if they give you any trouble. 

[isdalinarhot]

Confession (or maybe not confession but Fun Fact but I kept it hidden for many years) I have for a very long time maintained that for a period of time during the washed up dilf era Dalinar binge ate as a way of dealing with grief and I have absolutely no canon proof of this and it’s very unlikely and the only reason this headcanon exists is that’s part of how I deal w/ depression is by eating too much and I wanted to feel connected to Dalinar and how he did things. And it made things really messy because like. I was like in my head like is this fatphobic somehow? To draw Dalinar gaining a significant amount of weight during the washed up dilf era? Because like I feel like that plays into some unsavory tropes. But it’s true to my real life experiences like I started eating a lot because I was depressed and got fat off it and I’m okay with that I think it makes me hotter frankly. But like idk!!!!!! And I guess it gets a little more complicated when I’m like fat dudes = hot and am I sexualizing Dalinar in poor taste? Just because I as a person am okay with my fatness (and to a lesser degree in very specific circumstances my alcoholism) being used for degradation or D/S worship purposes as me a human having sex does not mean that it’s a good idea to produce erotic content for Dalinar centering around these themes and it might be like, putting evil content into the world for me to write fic in which Sadeas is degrading Dalinar being like ohhhh you fat fuck you’re drunk all the time but you take my cock so well 😈 like that could just be in poor taste! So it’s very hard for me to make content that revolves around this theme. Juggling kink, life experiences/coping, and what makes sense in canon is hard sometimes. Idk is this coherent? I am drunk right now disclaimer so idk if what im saying really makes sense

[aspiringhexgirl]

need you all to know the curiosity fueled google search journey I just went on

→ sees post that is now long forgotten, remembers rasputin. curiosity strikes. i'm a gemini moon, i'm a knowledge seeker. google, what was the world's largest penis?

two articles appear before me. a name highlighted. robert esquivel cabrera. 48 centimeters long, 900 grams... article cuts off. → the curse of the man with world's largest penis (56 year old man) (size claim: 48 cm long, 900 grams in weight (for the surviving ancient roman citizens out there), 25 cm in girth) (article says roberts penis is larger than man who officially holds world record for largest penis, jonah falcon.) how big is this thing, i have no sense of measurement. -go downstairs, grab tape measure, go back upstairs- (conclusion: comically large penis) (there is a CLOTHED picture of robert in the article.) (ain't no fucking way) (robert dreamed of being a pornstar) (dreams never achieved) (picture of a younger robert in his underwear) (dick is not hanging below his knees) (robert deals with frequent medical problems relating to his unhinged penis) (someone studied his penis) (study found his penis is actually 7 inches (18 cm) long) (the rest is just foreskin & inflamed skin) (he reportedly used to hand weights off his penis to make it bigger when he was young) (astonishing x ray penis picture attached) (yanked that thing asunder) okay well then who has the largest naturally occurring penis since this guy cheated and is suffering for it now. -go back a page, click on the next suggestion- →Jonah Falcon (man previously mentioned) (american actor) (what KIND of actor?) (area man claims to have world's largest penis, (13 ½ inches [34 cm] long. no further details provided.) will not let anyone see it to confirm or deny) (falcon first gained attention when he was in an HBO documentary.) (hbo doc where naked men where interview about their penises.) (lowkey need to know how that went for everyone) falcon apparently told rolling stone in 2003 that so much bwood wushes to his pwenis when he gets hward that he gets wightheaded 😢) (brother, I think you have POTS) (falcon has agreed to donate his penis to the Icelandic Phallological Museum when he dies) →Icelandic Phallological Museum (penis museum) (300+ penises on display) (only got its first human penis on display in 2011.) (removing said first human penis from donor did Not go well, twas quote "reduced to a greyish-brown shriveled mass that was pickled in a jar of formalin.") (the penis museum is still on the hunt for Younger, Hotter, Bigger, Better, Faster, Stronger human penis donations to display.) (how exactly did the icelandic penis museum start? Well! museum started bc quote, "an interest in penises that began during Sigurður's (founder) childhood when he was given a cattle whip made from a bull's penis.") (me when I have the penis autism instead of the being good at science at math autism)

[forthesakeofthesoul]

the summer i gained consciousness

life became a double-edged sword when it happened. i missed the innocence of the before, and abhorred the weight and proclivity of the after. the simplistic moment by moment mindset of childhood made life feel infinite, but then again, enlightenment made me think. it made me ponder things i'd never even given the chance to lend my mind to. summer gave me time. more of it or less is up to you, i suppose. nothing can compare to the infantile eon. the juvenile century of summer. but nothing can compare to the adolescent spiral either. the brain bending mind fucks you take yourself on. like, is time even real? maybe summer really was a century long. do we even exist rn?

time is unique to everyone so make the most of it. or the least. your choice. it's as short or as long as you want.

summer felt stifling this year. it keeps getting hotter and hotter. i guess that's climate change. global warming.

my mind's on fire. i think i felt it smoking. maybe it's because summer leaves the lights on at night -- the sun is still up by nine o'clock -- but i could never sleep very well. i know why. my thoughts were consumed. sometimes it felt like i was going crazy. i'm not convinced that i wasn't. but i think that's when you gotta start writing about it.

i learned to roll with the punches more. i was too caught up in my mind to care much about what was going on around me anyways. i found god in my thoughts and he wasn't a man. he wasn't anything. he was me. or at least a higher self. someone who understood me better than anyone else i know. and she knew i was kind and sensitive and all the things that i could not change. she knew about them and she accepted me. where else do you find that kind of love? it's all within yourself.

but i was far from the point of loving myself. i knew myself too well. i still do. i'm disillusioned with the girl i got to know. i've memorized my rough edges and sour spots off by heart. i know who i am! i know who i am. is there still more to discover? i want to be a mystery to even myself. because i know her too well.

but how strange is it that we always have a desire for more. and when we're given more we are still unsatisfied. there has to be more. that's all we know. all we know is that which we don't know. i think we thrive on that uncertainty. it sparks that creative passion, and without the unknown, that spark will die.

this summer i found myself pondering a world without the thinkers. at first it sounded scary, but then i realized there's already been one. we're living on it.

prehistoric earth, when the world was run on instinct. opinion had no purpose here. it hadn't even been invented yet. life existed on the basis of gut instinct alone. and there was balance! thoughts were mere urges, self-preservational desires. they were desires that kept creatures alive.

it makes me wonder about the beauty in living life unaware. a callback to that primordial sense of presentness we all experience as children. it made me wonder if we'll ever go back there. but you can never go back there. we can return to a state of balance but it won't be the same. we wouldn't be the same.

prehistoric earth is terrifyingly beautiful, and there's a mysticism in it that holds fast the attention of all those who roam the earth in the present... or perhaps in this context it's the future? we are living in a different time at any rate. we are all allured by the past, fixated on it, obsessively compulsively wishing to go back to it, to rewrite it, to reach in and save someone from it, like grabbing a drowning puppy.

we are slaves to the past, and we're indebted to the future. time is our greatest blessing, and also our heaviest curse. but can we ourseles decide to make it exclusive to one? can we give thanks to the blessing instead of fall victim to the curse? i think that's an individual journey thing. life -- time, is what you make of it. it's all in how you live it.

summer made me stop and smell the roses. it made me panic and realize how fast time flies. it burned me and kissed me and loved me and smoked me out. it made me find the heart of what truly matters. it made me grieve parts of myself i never knew i lost. it made me discover parts of my soul that had been hidden for two decades. it made me fall in love and cry and scream hatred off a cliff only to have compassion thrown back at me. it cleansed my feelings and left me alone to reflect. summer nurtured me and it stripped me of my pride. i have been humbled. i have been loved. i have been reborn. summer washed away the old me. it burned off all the dead skin.

sept. 9. 2024

[shroud-of-empire]

I forgot to even mention this in my review, but another funny thing about So Speaks the Heart is how it repeatedly insists that Leandra is better/smarter/more attractive than Theodora. E.g. Leandra is a virgin and Theodora is not, Leandra knows things that Theodora can’t understand, Theodora is attractive but Leandra is beautiful… you get what I mean. The narrative specifies at one point that Theodora has gained weight, while Leandra is still youthful and slim. Alexander even sleeps with Theodora just so he can compare her to Leandra later (and he obviously concludes that Leandra is better). I guess it’s just part of the fantasy—Leandra is prettier than the most famous courtesan in the world, because she’s written for escapism, not accuracy—but a lot of books do this. Generally, if a book is set in the sixth-century Byzantine Empire and the main character is anyone other than Theodora, the narrative will repeatedly emphasize that Theodora isn’t that attractive/powerful/intelligent. If the protagonist is a woman, the author will establish early on that the protagonist is the more beautiful of the two; if the protagonist is a man, the author will establish that he’s smarter and his wife is prettier. And you see this everywhere in Byzantine speculative fiction.

Like, okay, The John the Eunuch books don’t really focus on Justinian and Theodora anyway, but every time Theodora does show up, the narrator has to comment on how unattractive she is (especially compared to John’s love interest). In the earlier books, she’s described as mediocre-looking and generally underwhelming, and in the later books, she’s described as having aged poorly (again, the narrator comments on her weight). A Flame in Byzantium describes her as an aging matron with a receding chin, wearing gaudy, tasteless outfits to disguise her fading looks. Every Belisarius book makes a point of mentioning that Antonina is more desirable than Theodora, either because Theodora is sluttier, less attractive, or somehow “broken” (a lot of books give her exaggerated trauma or mental illnesses, so she can be dismissed as a crazy shrew that no normal man would ever want). And it’s not like I’m personally invested in defending Theodora’s looks—I don’t really care if some vampire novel describes her as less attractive than the idealized protagonist—but I do think it’s a weird pattern. I mean, we know what Theodora looked like. We know how her contemporaries viewed her. We know that she had a successful career as an actress and a courtesan, and that she married the heir to the Roman Empire. And yet so many books present her as an overrated, overweight, middle-aged has-been with bad taste in jewelry and tacky barbarian clothes.

I don’t know. I’m probably overanalyzing this, but I think it speaks to a number of different things. A lot of it is clearly rooted in sexism, but it’s like a fusion of a hundred different sexist tropes. You have the “evil queen” trope, where a powerful woman is depicted as an old hag envious of other girls’ youth and beauty—in Theodora books, the old hag is Euphemia, and in other books, the old hag is Theodora. And some authors have a tendency to portray adult women as uniformly petty and cliquey regardless, so then you get these weird stories where empresses compete over who’s prettiest like they’re sixteen-year-old pageant queens. (Granted, you see that more in older books, but it does pop up in more recent stories.) But that doesn’t entirely account for the “my wife is way hotter than that crazy bitch, Theodora” stories, which almost feel more sinister to me. That specific sentiment feels so rooted in such a complex web of sexist stereotypes—linking women’s worth to their looks, linking men’s worth to their assets (and presenting a pretty, young wife as an asset who increases her husband’s value as a man), depicting any women who aren’t stock “cool girl” characters as “crazy bitches,” etc. A lot of writers clearly do this to make Belisarius seem cooler and more enviable—they can’t give Justinian a normal, loving marriage, because then Justinian would have something that Belisarius doesn’t, so they have to make Theodora ugly or crazy so Belisarius still seems like he “won.” It’s more subtle with the other male-character-centric stories, but I think that motivation is present at least some of the time.

Anyway, this rant kind of got away from me, and again, I’m probably thinking too hard about this (most of these speculative fiction books aren’t exactly great literature, anyway, for reasons independent of Theodora). But I still think the tendency to compare Theodora unfavorably to other, more prominent female characters, often in ways that don’t make a lot of sense (like describing Theodora as overweight, unattractive, or somehow “broken” or “crazy”) is a phenomenon worth remarking on.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SNACKS AND SEX

A/N: a little something, because i thought i would be done with the single dadrry fic by now... but im not so i just wrote this quickly bc i felt bad hahahah

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNING: a bit of body issues

SUMMARY: You're three months pregnant, but the world doesn't know. Seeing some pictures of yourself online really get to you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Social media has been a weird hole in your life ever since you started dating Harry. You weren’t an obsessive user before, but you spent your fair share of time scrolling on Twitter and Instagram, checking out funny posts.

But then they were about you.

Five years into dating Harry, one year of that spent as husband and wife, you still can’t stop yourself from wandering online and hurting yourself by seeing something mean about a photo or a nasty gossip. You promised yourself a million times before that you wouldn’t even check what complete strangers have to say about you, but it’s hard to keep away from the internet.

It’s a random Thursday evening when you break your promise again and it brings you to tears. Harry is out to get your Sour Patch Kids, because that was your pregnancy craving of the day and you tried to ignore it, but then ended up asking Harry to run to the store and get them for you without a word or complain. He’s been your hero not just since you’ve found out you’re pregnant three months ago, but probably since you met him.

So while you’re waiting for him, you’re munching on some chips, scrolling on Twitter aimlessly.

And then you find a thread about yourself.

Two days ago you went for a walk around the neighborhood, the weather was nice, you felt like you needed to get out of the house so you and Harry walked to your favorite bakery, got some donuts and took a stroll. Paparazzi keep away from the neighborhood where you live, Harry has had a long but successful fight with them in the past so now they keep their distance, so you weren’t worried about getting papped. But you can’t have normal people away every time you’re out on the streets. He has fans everywhere and love taking pictures of him doing literally anything, whether it’s just crossing the street, being on a run or walking around with her pregnant wife eating donuts.

Well, people don’t know you’re pregnant and hopefully they won’t find out for months.

You kind of saw a few girls get worked up when they spotted the two of you, but you were hoping they would be respectful and not take pictures. You were wrong. And now you’re met with a series of photos of you, your face stuffed with donuts like you never ate any before. They caught you in a bad moment, for sure. You haven’t washed your hair in days, you were wearing baggy clothes because one, they hide your growing belly amazingly and two, those are what you feel the most comfortable in. Your body is going through some major changes, comfort is your number one priority these days.

But now you’re watching people tear you apart for looking so slobby and practically just the shadow of yourself compared to what you used to look like five years ago.

She definitely shouldn’t be eating donuts, lol.

Wow, she put on so much weight!

Harry is just getting hotter, while she is turning into… that.

She is twice the size like she was at the Grammy’s omg!

You just can’t stop reading the nasty messages, they seem to be endless, about your look, your clothes and mostly about the size of your body. You immediately stop eating the chips and toss the pack away as you keep scrolling.

Tears start dwelling in your eyes, feeling like all these comments are being thrown at you relentlessly. There’s no doubt you’ve gained weight, pregnancy has been crazy for you, you’ve been constantly hungry, always eating something because whenever you tried to keep yourself out of the kitchen, your body definitely started rioting against you until you gave it what you wanted. So you’ve been putting on extra weight these past months, but you didn’t think much of it until now.

“Fuck,” you mumble, tears rolling down your cheeks as you lock the phone and toss it to the side, staring ahead of you, the comments playing in your mind on repeat.

It gets you so worked up that you don’t even notice when Harry returns.

“Love? I got everything you’ve been craving!” he sings as he walks down the hallway, smiling to himself thinking about all the treats in his tote bag.

You jump at his voice and try to hide your state, but a moment later he walks in and sees you sitting at the dining table, crying.

“Hey, what happened?” he asks, dropping the bag and rushing over to you, kneeling in front of you. “What happened? Talk to me, baby!”

“Nothing,” you breathe out shakily, but even the blind could see that you’re crying. “But… I don’t want the snacks anymore.”

“What? You’ve been craving them all day, I got all your favorites!”

“I don’t…” you shake your head and even though you’re fighting hard to stop crying, it just gets worse.

“Y/N, don’t tell me nothing happened, something clearly upset you! Please, I want to help!” he begs, feeling helpless seeing you like this.

Instead of answering, you just grab your phone, unlock it and hand it over to him and wait as he reads over some of the mean tweets.

“Baby…” he exhales, putting the phone to the side as he pulls out the chair next to yours and sits beside you, his hands never letting go of yours in your lap. “These idiots don’t matter, they have no idea that you’re pregnant!”

“I’m pregnant, yeah, but I also gained a lot of weight and I’m only entering the second trimester! I look horrible!”

“No, you don’t, you look amazing!”

“Don’t bullshit me, I look like shit on those pictures and I have a feeling I look the same now as well!” you snap at him. Your hormones have been all over the place so you’ve been overreacting a lot lately, but you just can’t help it.

“But that’s not what I see. I see my beautiful wife enjoying some great donuts she deserved because she is growing our baby in her belly. Did you put on some weight? Yes, but that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I loved you before pregnancy, I love you now and I will love you forever.”

“How do you not think I look hideous?” you moan, still not convinced.

“Because I’m in love with you and all I care about is that you’re nourished, loved and cared for so you can care for our baby in there,” he says, placing a hand to your growing belly. “People will always have something to say about us, that doesn’t mean it’s true. I was there with you on our walk, I saw you eat those donuts and wanna know what I thought?”

“What?” you ask in a whisper.

“I was so happy that I saw you eat them with those pleased hums, I loved knowing that you have what you want and need. That’s all that mattered to me.”

Harry can tell you’re still not entirely on the same page as him and he is determined to get your mind to the right place.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Y/N. And you’re going through some extreme changes so we can grow our family. Be nice to your body, because it’s gifting us with a baby. I promise you that even on your worst day, when you feel like you don’t want anyone to look at you, I would still think the same thing about you.”

“Are you sure?” you ask as he wipes your tears off of your cheeks.

“I can’t be more sure, I promise. Now why don’t we get comfortable on the couch, I’ll rub your feet and we can eat the snacks I got and then maybe have sex too,” he adds cheekily and it finally makes you laugh.

“Harry!”

“What?” he grins. “I told you, you’re beautiful. Of course I want to have sex with my amazing wife!”

“You don’t mind the weight I’ve put on?”

“No,” he answers confidently. “I love all of you, I love this wonderful body of yours that’s cooking my baby in there,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses your stomach, making you laugh. Then he wraps you in his arms and pulls you into his embrace. “We good?” he hums.

“Yeah,” you nod, holding onto him tight.

“So, snacks?”

“Yes.”

“And sex?” he adds, his hands wondering down to your butt, giving it a nice squeeze.

“Mm… Maybe. After snacks,” you say, making him laugh this time.

“Deal!”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[kaeyas-beloved]

Be You {Leviathan x Reader}

Leviathan x Reader (They/Them) || Obey Me!

Warning(s): None (Well, actually I make Levi bully Mammon for less than a paragraph)

Note: This was a request I received from someone on Wattpad!

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

Finally, Leviathan’s done it. It’s been a long three days, hours upon hours having been poured into this playthrough. 

“Woop woop! Aren’t I the best!” he praised himself, smiling wide. He’s skipped meals, pushed assignments to a later date and avoided any outside interactions to finish this game. His sight may be blurry and his limbs numb but if those were the sacrifices he had to make to go full completionist then it was all worth it. Now, time to celebrate a well deserved win.

“I think this calls for some of Ruri-chan’s celebratory season 3 limited edition candy and-!”

A chorus of knocks on his door immediately snuffed out his joy. Levi scowled, turning to glare at his door from his chair, it’s gotta be Mammon. The third born is absolutely positive that it’s his scummy older brother - it always is - back yet again to mooch more money off him for a trip to the casino. The usual slander he and his brothers would throw at the second born was on the tip of his tongue, ready to fire at will. 

“Hey Levi? You there? It’s me....”

A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to the second born piping up and Levi, halfway through spouting the first syllable, shuts up all together. That’s his normie. A weight presses on his heart: he was just about to yell and insult his Henry… 

Clearing his throat in hopes of gaining some kind of composure (all previous anger having diminished) the usual “What’s the password?” came out in a stutter. The demon was only acutely aware of his heart beat. How it skipped periodically. How it raced like he himself just ran a marathon. Levi waits a moment for the human to finish reciting the TSL excerpt. His hands begin to shake, his palms exuding profuse amounts of sweat. Gah! Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he’s aware that he’s just some gross shut-in otaku but he shouldn’t be this anxious! It’s not like this is the first time the exchange student has hung out in his room... alone... with him…

“Yo Levi?”

“Yes MC?”

“You think you could open the door now? Please?” Snapped back to reality, Levi hastily opened the door, finding himself regretting it soon after.

“I, uh, MC? What do you…?” his voice trailed off, orange gradient eyes locked on their garments. Immediately he sputtered, taking a step back. A bright scarlet coated his pale cheeks. Levi tried to hide it with his hand, though it was proven useless. The sea demon's at a toss up; should he screech? Slam the door shut? Combust all together!? At the rate he’s going, number three is looking pretty probable.

On the other end of this exchange, the human stood almost timidly out in the hall, fingers fiddling with one another while their eyes darted anywhere but at the man in front of them. The words of the fifth born rang in their ears:

“You absolutely have to wear this dear! My brother would surely fall head over heels for you, even more so than he already is!”

Oh whyyyyy did they trust him? Cause he had knowledge in fashion and love? Yeah, that was it. Still, if this turns south Asmo is going to get a lecture worse than any Lucifer could ever give… Damn, they really should’ve never let the lust demon shoo them into his private bathroom and make them change into this girly outfit. 

And it hit them all at once: Levi doesn’t like it, what they’re wearing. What if he never talks to them after this? Maybe if they leave now then there will still be a chance they can forget about this.

Time went on slowly, like people who walk through mud are, and MC just about tuck tail and ran, what they had planned and gained courage for be damned. 

Levi had other plans though. 

Only now registering that the two were standing out in the open for all to see, in a blind and desperate attempt to save himself and the human from embarrassment, the third born latched onto their wrist, yanking them into the safety of his room. Unfortunately, demon strength is a funny thing and Levi had handled them with more force than he meant to, the human crashing into his chest - hard. 

Perhaps it was instinct -- a need to protect the fragile being within his grasp -- but the demon's arm found purchase around their form, pulling them almost impossibly closer as they tipped. The pair, balance long gone, toppled over, landing with a thud.

Somehow, just like in all the romance anime he’s watched, Levi found himself hovering over them, arms propped on either side of their head. Their noses brushed, both staring frozen into each other's eyes. It wasn’t everyday that either of them were this close to one another, the exception being when the duo falls asleep playing video games. God, with this kind of proximity he was sure that the normie could hear how fast his meek heart was pounding. If this went on any longer he might actually die.

“Levi?” They whispered, their voice so quiet that he almost missed the call of his name. He however did catch their whisper and tensed up before coming back to the here and now, catching sight of the ‘what’ that led to their current position. Standing, Levi’s face burned hotter than ever before.

‘It was all because of them,’ he thought, turning away turning away with tense shoulders as he still tries to mask the red that licked all the way up to his ears. ‘It’s always their fault when I start to feel like I do now!’

“S-stupid n-normie! Why are you even wearing that?” he asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder. Levi did have to admit… they looked kinda cute in those clothes… and it looked like something Ruri-chan would wear too… 

Gah! No no no focus Levi!

The ‘normie’ didn’t answer right away, instead raising to their feet and opting to grab a bag from beside the door. That wasn’t there before. 

“Asmo…” they sighed, turning back to face the demon, nervousness swirling within them. Now or never, “Asmo said you’d like it if I wore something like this” So this is Asmo’s doing? Damn him… “Anyway, here, take it.”

“Wha-?” A shimmering gift bag the same colour of the water Henry his goldfish swam in was thrust into his hands, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat. 

A present? For him? Oh why must a no good otaku like him have to go through such an intimate endeavor???? He just can’t take it! 

Then again, this was like that one scene from season 2 ep. 22 of this anime he binged: I Forget Important Dates all the time which causes me to get into really awkward situations. This time I forgot about my Birthday and my Crush handed me a bag before confessing their love for me!

So-! Spurred on by fictional characters and MC’s urging “go on, open it”, Levi tore the tape, presented with his spontaneous gift: a popular multiplayer game from the human world; one near impossible to get in Devildom.

“WHAOOO!” MC couldn’t help but think how much he’s acting like a kid on Christmas, the notion cute in their opinion. The human stood still for a couple minutes, allowing their friend to rant and gush over the game (and how cool they were for even acquiring it).

“But…” the purple haired demon calmed down, “why did you suddenly give me this?” What? Did he not know what today was?

“It’s… it is your birthday isn’t it!?” Don’t tell them Asmo lied to them about Levi’s birthday!

Levi pulled out his phone, his eyes widening to the size of saucers, “No, it is my birthday,” he assured. With all the gaming he was doing he must've failed to noticed, which is strange considering the last time his special day drew near he practically counted down the days. 

“MC.” He got their attention, looking them right in the eye, his words and actions portraying a sureness and sincerity, “Thank you and…” As quick as lightning strikes the ground, the human had themselves pulled flush against Levi once more, his head resting on their shoulder and nose buried in the crook of their neck. His hair, so soft and fluffy, left a ticklish sensation on their skin.

“And about what you said before. With Asmo. I do like what you’re wearing but…” he tightens his hold, “I like you just the way you are. I know you don’t usually dress like this and I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable, like how you make me. If that means dressing tomboy-ish then so be it. I want you to be you: the human only you can be: my Henry.” 

“I’m glad you feel that way…” They smiled, arms wrapping around his torso. They hope their gratitude is able to shine through in the hug, “Now, ya wanna play your new game?”

“Yes!” He smiled, pulling back and raising his hand. They return the grin, suppressing a chuckle seeing as the demon reminded them of the YES demoji. “Oh, but um! Would you like to change first? It’s not that I don’t like seeing you dressed like that or anything but like I said I want you to be comfortable but also I don’t think my heart can take it anymore… wait that’s not what I meant!” That made them chuckle though.

“Do I have to?” They teased, enjoying the reaction they got out of the third born. Levi gulped, ducking his head while whispering a small no. “Then maybe I’ll stay like this a little longer. It is your birthday after all.” Tugging the envy demon towards their usual gaming spot they let Levi set up the game before the two plopped down in their spots.

“Oh and Levi?” He hummed, tilting his head, the light of the screen illuminating the side of his face. They hugged him once more, “Happy Birthday”

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[Masterlist]

Thank you for reading!