#precisely sir

[impossiblepearl]

I have nothing appropriate to say...

[inafieldofdaisies]

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends Episode 12 | "I dare you... to kiss Top."

I adore everything about this. How Mew was straight up like 'yeah, smush faces with my boyfriend for the lols', whilst Top is sitting there like 'why you betray me like this?'' Sand glancing at Ray first for his permission before he goes in with as much unhinged gusto as he can muster.

[tenth-sentence]

My friend, who loved above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted his attention from the matter in hand.

"The Illustrated Sherlock Holmes Treasury" - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

He’s heard so much about winter...

(I ended up getting a little over excited while tv drawing and cleaned it up but I also still like the original sketch)

[empressofmankind]

So, I am editing @tiredemomama and mine second chapter for Team Triassic. And I just wrote a single line that every single post doc is probably going to feel in their bones.

“He [Crocodile] actually threatened to sell his shares!” Masrani said in an affronted tone as he gestured at their surroundings. “Can you believe he would just unplug all this? Leave us limping and beggared??” Wu absolutely could. He’d written grants.

I am enjoying writing dr Wu wayyy too much, ngl. I get this man's frustrations with being surrounded by coorporate idiots soooooo much. I too, would set loose a giant ass murder reptile on them all if I could.

[aziraphalalala]

commas, those fuckers

[ci-ah]

you came to the wrong neighborhood 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

looking at the AMH for the two medications I'm currently taking and it is very funny to me that the one I was just started on actually has no clinical indications for what my doctor told me it was for, and also has side effects other than what he told me

[xbittersweet-nostalgiax]

WTF IS GOING ON IN THE MUSIC VIDEO FOR THE KILL BY THIRTY SECONDS TO MARS

THAT FUCKIN HALLWAY SCENE

HOW MUCH RPF HAS BEEN WRITTEN BASED ON THAT MUSIC VIDEO ALONE???

[preyrage]

akira's jaws have such an intense bite force that someone alive and well will not even process that he's bitten their limb clean off before they actually see it.

[parf-fan]

It has come to my attention that I have enough footage of shirtless Francis Drake to make a compilation.

[rhianwen24601]

Bought my first pack of cigarettes in 8 years, smoked two, and am now having some serious buyer's remorse.

[holeforzenin]

Tw - Boss!nanami, sir kink, reverse cowgirl, buttplug usage. Grammar errors.

Your thighs burned from how long you’d been riding him, the wet slap of your hips crashing down on his thick thighs echoing through the room in an inconsistent rhythm. Kento is lying beneath you, thick golden hair ruffled and mussed against the silky pillows, shirt still on but lazily unbuttoned like he’s been in a fight, sleeves rolled to the elbows like he didn’t even intend to fuck you this hard. Like he thought he could keep it neat.

But oh there’s nothing neat about the way your creamy pussy leaks down the length of his cock, nothing tidy about the way your eyes roll back as your ass bounces on him and your cute little plug nearly slips out—again. The pressure of his girth almost fucking the plug out every time it slides into your hole.

His hand darts up with that same practiced precision he uses in a fight, thumb pressing flush against the jewel at the heart base of it.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice deep and commanding as he pushes it back inside, and watching you squirm once it’s back in. “You keep it in like a good girl, understood?”

You nod obedienly, mouth hanging open, barely able to keep your balance as your thighs tremble around his waist. “Y-Yeah—yes, Kento—!”

“That’s sir to you,” he corrects.

That thumb stays in place, pressing into the base of the plug each time your movement threatens to dislodge it. It’s actually so mean—the way he insistently keeps it in, making you feel every bit of stretch and fullness, making it impossible to ignore how stuffed you are in both holes before he even starts thrusting up into you.

“Look at this,” he murmurs darkly, slightly shifting under you and spreading his legs more so his cock drives deeper with each roll of your hips. “Stuffed so full, and you’re still desperate for more. Fucking greedy. You like feeling this helpless, don’t you?”

Your moan answers for you, messy and loud, warm tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Kento’s cock is veiny and thick—he always stretches you up but the added plug makes it even more unbearable in the best way possible like your body can’t decide if it’s overwhelmed or starving for more.

“Please, please, sir—feels so good, I-I can’t—”

“You can.” That thumb pushes harder, pinning the plug in like a fucking button he’s got full control over. “You’ve taken everything I’ve given you tonight. You’re going to take this, too”.

Your nails dig into his sweaty chest for balance as he starts fucking up into you, ruining the pace you were trying to keep. Kento is usually a patient man but your lazy, fucked-out rhythm was getting on his nerves.

Now he’s in charge again—hips ramming up into you from below in a brutal pace while his hand stays glued to your ass, his thumb making sure that plug stays nestled tight like it’s a part of you. You continue bouncing helplessly, letting him use your body like a toy, stuffed full and shaking and fucked raw by your boss.

“I can feel it,” he growls, hand moving from your ass to grab your jaw, forcing your fluttering eyes open to look back at him. “The way your little hole clenches around it every time I hit that spot. So nasty, bet you’re gonna cum just from this, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, fingers slipping against his sweat-slick chest as your thighs quiver.

“Tell me,” he says, almost sweet now, almost gentle as he stares up at your flushed face. “Tell me how it feels to ride your boss’s cock with your ass plugged up like a dirty slut, so shameless—all this just for a little bonus huh?”.

“S-So full—Nanamin, it’s too much, I c-can’t hold it, I—fuck!”

“You can”. His grip on your jaw tightens just slightly. “You’re going to. I’ll hold it in for you if I have to”.

And he does. Every time it threatens to slip from how wildly you’re grinding against him, how soaked you are, how greedy your body’s gotten—he’s there, thumb pressing and pushing, guiding it right back in like he owns every part of your body now.

Your orgasm hits quick and sloppy, back arching and your plushy ass grinding on his pelvis, tight cunt spasming around him like you’re trying to take all his babies from him, your asshole clenching around the plug tighter than ever.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” he groans, barely holding back from how sexy and filthy you look cumming on top of him. “So fucking tight—so full, shit!”

He spills inside you with a broken grunt, hips slamming up one last time and holding you there with a big hand clasping your hips and keeping you impaled on his cock, stuffed full of him and the plug both.

You feel every pulse of him emptying into you, the warmth leaking out only to be caught and squished deeper by his still throbbing shaft.

When you start to lift off him, the plug nearly slipping again, his hand flies back to your ass.

“Ah, ah,” he warns, pushing it back in firmly. “Did I say you could take it out?”

You whimper, obediently sinking back down with your brain fogged and mouth slack. You’ll stay like that as long as he wants. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs, voice tired but still husky as always as he strokes your back. “Plug in. Pussy leaking with my children. All mine”.

[empressofmankind]

I may or may not be drawing Crocodile in a ruffled shirt because I,

I LOV E PIRATES OK?

I feel very strongly about scuffed jackboots, overly tight striped pants and ruffled shirts.

AND I FEEL LIKE I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF THIS.

particularly because he's got like the best titties for it

I am OK

I promise

Edit: I DREW THE THING

[sylusgworl]

ETERNAL VOWS ft. love and deepspace

you go in for a bridal fitting, but you don't expect their reaction, at all.

content: fluff, afab! reader but no pronouns used, slightly suggestive in sylus's part, dress fitting

a/n: the new banner is releasing soon, so i had to join into the fun too, i honestly enjoyed writing this one sm, although it took me more than three days to finish :( not proofread !! wc: 1.6k. rbs are very appreciated <3

m.list

Not even in Xavier's most hidden dreams did you look so... ethereal.

That morning he woke up because you kept tapping his cheek. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was greeted by raw excitement. 

“Do you remember what day today is?” you said in a squeaking voice, but still lying down because his arm pinned you to the bed and was too heavy to push. 

Xavier closed his eyes, amused, but still with a foot in the land of dreams. 

“I remember, starlight, you've been yelling in my ear for two weeks,” he faked annoyance while a smile tugged at his lip, shy, but daring enough to display. 

You patted his shoulder, scoffing, “c'mon, get up, we're going to be late!” 

Which takes you to where the two of you were, at this precise moment. 

Xavier, leaning back against the black sofa, looked around him, feeling out of place while being surrounded by an insurmountable amount of gowns—white wedding gowns.

With frills, no frills, ball gowns, mermaid, trumpet, lace corsets of any kind... he didn't understand much of it, after all, he knew you looked good in anything.

He couldn’t, however, deny this blooming feeling inside of his heart, the happiness of finally making a dream come true. Finally the two of you would be united forever.

“Sir?” a feminine voice shook him out of his thoughts. He glanced up, 

A long soft gown, adorned with little ornamental flowers, while the corset was covered by flowery lace. The dress fell off the shoulders, the contrast with your skin making Xavier gulp. His eyes hadn’t blinked ever since you arrived.

You made a small twirl, a grin plastered on your lips, “so, how is this one? I think I like this the most.”

Xavier thought he’d forgotten how to breathe. glancing at his cute reaction, you noticed his flushed cheeks and mouth agape. “Like unreachable stars, you shine above all,” he muttered, finally breaking the silence.

Then, to the shop clerk, “we’ll take this one.”

Xavier couldn’t wait for the wedding day to see you with the dress on. 

Sylus dropped the catalogue in his hands, Mephisto froze in place.

The latter wasn’t supposed to be with you at your dress fitting. At all. Except, he simply tailed the two of you, ignoring Sylus’s orders. And now, he just stopped moving altogether, as if his mechanical parts had been consumed by rust.

Then, a flap of wings, followed by several caws, to the point that Sylus had to pinch his beak to shut him up, even though he totally agreed with him.

You stood there, awkwardly at first. You were used to your fiancé—Sylus—being the type to never be intimidated by anyone and anything.

However, now his ruby eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

Was he disappointed? Did he not like how the dress fit you? After all, it was unlike any traditional wedding dress, the gown being an inch above the knee, while several feathers trailed along the corset, down to the skirt.

Sylus slowly got up from his seat, Mephisto, now silent and offended, comfortably leaned back in Sylus’s spot.

He walked, slowly, until he was right in front of you.

“The dress really suits you, kitten,” his teasing voice made a comeback. You sighed from relief, slapping his arm jokingly. However, you noticed how his serious expression clashed with his amused tone.

He raised a hand, subtly grazing your cheek, his gaze softening while never leaving yours.

“It captures your freedom perfectly. I know you like to escape the most,” then he lowered his head, his breath hitting your ear as you shivered.

“But I do think I can’t wait to take this off, sweetie,” your breath hitched.

Sylus pressed a kiss behind your ear, then backed slowly. His lips now stretched in his usual grin, but a blush was indeed tinting his face. 

It took Caleb a double take, before sprinting up, then sitting back down, his mouth ajar.

“Pips…” was the only thing he managed to mutter, gulping dryly, like a man in the desert in a search to quench his thirst.

You giggled, clearly enjoying his reaction, and slowly stepped forward, twisting so that he could have a full view.

In Caleb’s head, the day of the wedding had already arrived. He was ready to make you his wife right then and there, how could you look so perfect in a simple piece of clothing?

His deep purple eyes beamed with realization. It was happening—what he dreamed of most was on the point of manifesting.

“Baby?” you called out to him.

He hummed in response, then sprung up on his feet, the necklace you’d gifted him years prior tingling against the zipper of his jacket.

With wide steps he was right in front of you in half a second, towering over you as you looked up and met his gaze.

Completely smitten, head over heels, you name it. Caleb wanted you more than anything, and he was finally going to have his long-time wish granted.

“This dress fits you perfectly,” he took a hold of a stray lock of your hair, and kissed it, before gently brushing it past your ear.

Then, with no prior warning, his lips were on yours, desperate, domineering, the boutique worker gasping and turning around, embarrassed.

His warm hands cupped your cheeks, as he leaned further in, the warmth of his breath hitting you with a familiar wave.

“Sorry Pips, I couldn’t resist,” he smiles against your lips, pecking them one last time, before letting go. Your cheeks warm up, conscious that you’d just made out in front of people without care.

However, you found no trace of your embarrassment on Caleb, who wet his lips with his tongue and turned to the woman you’d flashed.

“This one’s perfect.” 

Rafayel tried to feign uninterest, until he could not anymore, the sight of you too beautiful and perfect to ignore.

He was sitting, his arm slouched behind the backrest of the black sofa, eyes studying the interior of the shop with little interest while waiting for you.

You’d taken your time, clearly inexperienced in putting on a wedding gown.

Still, Rafayel was only pretending to be cool and alright, his heart thumping against his ribcage with brute force at the realisation.

He was finally going to be reunited with you, his bride, to never be separated again.

He honestly couldn’t wait.

As soon as you stepped out of the changing room, your white heels clicking against the marbled floor, Rafayel gulped, hard.

He’d loved you in each of your lifetimes, but the sight in front of him etched into his heart the desire he’d long kept unfulfilled—for external reasons.

You smiled at him, softly, a little twirl to show him the back of the dress. His eyes fell on the pearls that adorned it, his breath hitched.

Getting up slowly, there was no point in keeping the facade any longer.

You had had him imprisoned in your cage, lulled him in with your striking beauty, like a siren does as she sings to her prey—that was supposed to be his role, draw you in, into his grasp, stop you from slipping away. But oh, you beat him to it, and you did it every single time.

As he finally reached you, his reddish eyes fixated on you, like you were the only existing thing in that room.

“You look…”

“Nice? Horrible? Ugly?” you teased him, eyeing how his chest heaved, eyes checked your body from top to bottom, how he eased the collar of his shirt, feeling suddenly out of breath.

“Otherworldly,” he concluded. Your heart skipped a beat, a tint of red spreading over your cheeks. You weren’t expecting the compliment, that’s for sure.

Rafayel’s fingers hovered over your cheek, brushing it so lightly you’d thought it’d been a dream. 

“Oh,” you stupidly said, what could you have answered after all?

“Eight-hundred years… and I finally can make you mine,” he let out, the thumping in your chest got louder, faster.

Yes, he liked the dress alright. 

The way you looked made Zayne question why on earth didn't he propose earlier. 

The stoic and unfazed doctor, with an enviable reputation at Akso Hospital, was now at your mercy, his eyes drinking in every detail of yours until his mind swirled with thoughts, some of which he dared not tell anyone about.

“So, what does the gentleman here think of the dress?” the shop clerk asked politely, lips stretched in a wide smile as her gaze switched from you to your soon-to-be husband.

Zayne ignored her. Not that he meant to, he wasn’t the kind to dismiss basic etiquette. He would’ve said something, the point is he was unable to.

The corset hugged your waist perfectly, the visible cleavage making him gulp dryly, and the soft tulle of the gown fell down your legs smoothly, perfectly.

You stood there, feeling shy all of a sudden, under Zayne’s clouded gaze, his lips parted while his cheeks were tinted in a soft, subtle pink.

The shop clerk coughed, awkwardly, and dragged Zayne out of his trance.

“So perfect,” he answered, renouncing the fact that she was asking about the dress and not about you.

You felt warmth wrap around you, a smile slowly shadowed your lips, and slowly stepped forward. Zayne met you in the middle, pulling his tie, stifled. His eyes, green and warm, full of affection, never left yours.

His head dropped, lips brushing your ear as your heart almost burst in your chest.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he whispered, not an ounce of tease or amusement coating his words. He was dead serious, and you loved his confession, heart fluttering and hands quivering.

His lips kissed your forehead, softly, then a smile slowly crept up on his lips, his features softening. 

He squeezed your hand, subtly, until they stopped trembling, and turned to the clerk, coughing slightly.

“I like this dress,” he told her, his tone flat, back into the role of Dr Zayne of Akso Hospital.

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