#SoP structure

[edwisefoundation]

Statement of Purpose (SOP) for Study Abroad: How to Write an Impressive SOP

A Statement of Purpose (SOP) is a crucial part of the application process for studying abroad. It provides admissions committees with insight into your academic background, goals, and personal motivations beyond your grades and test scores. A well-written SOP can significantly enhance your chances of acceptance by showcasing your unique qualities and passion for your chosen field. The essay should also address why you are interested in studying abroad and how you plan to contribute to the institution.

For more details on how to craft a compelling SOP, visit Statement of Purpose for Study Abroad.

[mentorshelly]

Signs You’re Overdue for a Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) Overhaul in Your Small Business

Let’s be real—when you first started your business, you were the CEO, HR, marketing, admin, and janitor all in one. You did what you had to do to get things off the ground.But now your business is growing. You’re hiring. Delegating. Scaling.And things are slipping through the cracks. If your small business is running on outdated instructions, word-of-mouth training, or “this is how we’ve always…

[nebulaeternal]

✦.── In His Clothes── .✦

―୨୧⋆ ˚GENRE/WARNING: porn w/no plot, praise kink, edging, f!xm

―୨୧⋆ ˚SUMMARY: Sylus loved seeing you in his clothes, but couldn't help this particular night when you looked up at him with those eyes that could unravel him in an instant.

―୨୧⋆ ˚WORD COUNT: 0.8K

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: This is pure brainrot writing, mans has been dominating the cranium for too long now. This isn't super clean or anything, nothing is super structured, just pure brainrot. Borrowed some lines from @comatosebunny09 (thanks pookie). If you wanna sign up for the taglist for future posts, the link is below. Enjoy! (Can’t remember where I found the Sylus eye banner but credits to @omi-resources for the name one)

―୨୧⋆ ˚LINKS: AO3 Ver. , Twitter, Taglist Sign-up

―୨୧⋆ ˚TAGLIST: @voidsylus

If there was one little thing you did that made Sylus’s heart swell, it was wearing his clothes. It was an unspoken intimacy, a quiet declaration of your comfort in his space—and around him—to be able to equate it to your own. 

He always cherished the sight of you slipping into his home and raiding his closet for something loose and comfortable. Today was no different. Before he could properly greet you, you had already slipped into one of his oversized dress shirts. 

“Hi,” you chirped, finally meeting his gaze. The shirt hung off your shoulder in a way that made his pulse quicken. It was never your intention—at least that he was aware of—but Sylus could not help the way his gaze lingered on you. 

The hem of the shirt mocked him as it rode up your thighs when you reached for something. The deep v-neck dipped perfectly, drawing his eyes to the swell of your breasts every time you leaned over. He felt his body grow hot, his thoughts dancing on the edge of decency until your voice snapped him out of it. “Sylus?”

His stare was almost blank. “Yes sweetie?” He responded, trying to steady himself, though his mind was anything but. For a moment, he had forgotten what you even said, too distracted by the sight in front of him, of you in his shirt and out of your pants. “I was asking if a movie night was okay with you?” you repeated, leaning in with those knowingly pleading eyes that could unravel him in an instant. How could he possibly say no to that?

“Of course. It’s more than alright with me sweetie.”  His opens his arm to you, an invitation that you eagerly you accept as he reached for the remote on the table out in front of him. With his arm now wrapped around you, settling naturally against your side, his fingers idly caressing your skin as you both now turned your attention to the screen.

Except Sylus couldn’t focus. 

It was only about 30 minutes into the movie, his hands began to wander. Fingertips delicately grazing over your skin. His eyes flicked down catching a glimpse of your exposed skin, and finally he caved.

You were pinned beneath what you could call a hungry lion. He eagerly lapped at your skin as he sucked and bit the flesh, enjoying the dark marks that began to bloom. He was quick to have your folds sopping wet and dripping onto his fingers. Enjoying the way you squirmed and pawed at him, eyes glazed and filled with tears of pleasure.

“Sylus~” you mewled out. His fingers curl expertly, hitting that spongy spot inside you. You throw your head back into the plush of cushions, feeling yourself teeter on the brink of an orgasm.

“You’re doing so good for me, kitten.” He coos softly into your ear, feeling your walls clench around his thick digits. His other hand soothed you, gently caressing your hip as he worked you.

Before you could succumb to the tantalizing sensation, his movements halted. A frown was quick to appear on your features but the feeling of his cock sliding slowly into your folds had your dismay long forgotten, eyes rolling back into your head. “There she is~” he purrs, watching your face full of bliss.

Sylus loved the view beneath him. You, practically swimming in his shirt, with your legs folded to your chest, and his cock practically splitting you open while he pumped in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. “Faster.” You managed to whine out but Sylus shook his head.

His hips rolled slowly against yours, dragging the head of his cock slowly against your aching walls till just the tip remained inside and slowly pushing back in, savoring every inch he could while he sunk inside you. The whine that left your lips almost made his self-restraint snap. “You look so beautiful like this.” He murmured, continuing his slow pace.

The movie served as mere background noise as he savored every inch of your skin, swallowing up the whines and moans that left your mouth. His only focus was you–your pleasure, every reaction, the tremble of your body. He eased the grip your thighs, letting them fall naturally at his side “So perfect.” His torturously slow pace continued for the next hour, bringing you closer to the edge, never once letting you fall. At this point you were a sobbing mess, begging desperately for your release. “Sylus please–” You choked out once more, voice laced with need and desperation as you writhed in his hold. He hushed you gently, his voice low and soothing, “I know baby, I know. But you’re doing so good for me.” Your pleading eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and flushed appearance snapped something inside him. He couldn’t deny you any longer, not when you had been so good for him. He groaned in surrender, hips snapping quickly against your own, finally, giving you what you craved. “Give it to me.”

[lady-iizsil]

I made a post a few days ago with my face portrait of Vilkas from Skyrim, and I wanted to follow up with Farkas's addition!

Idk I think he looks like a wet sopping puppy in game so I tried to enhance that

Him next to his brother:

I had a lot of fun doing these two, I've been doing face structure tutorials and these two were my subject.

Meme included with Farkas's own doodle. I remembered this picture of these pathetic little kittens and needed to recreate it.

Your honor they are men who meow

Anyways, thank you for taking the time to look ❤️

[mxchibomb]

content. 18+ mdni

wriothesley

cw. knotting, slight asphyxiation

 drool kissed your chin, a weakly slack jaw with wettened lips. glossed over eyes barely open as you choked on your own air, a large muscled arm full of grown over scars holding your delicate form down to the ground in a rough headlock. your nails left red marks along his forearms as you clawed at him, eyes rolling to the deep void of black in the back of your head. with your head down, your hips were positioned upwards. your thighs shook underneath your tired, choked out form as strong, wide hips twice your size slammed into yours. your lower body jerked with the force of his body against yours with no choice but to let him use your cunt as he pleased.

 "wrio- fuucckkk.." you stammered with raspy chords, the pressure between his forearm and his tricep holding your throat in between creating a whisper from you.

 his red, hot cock slobbering with precum pressing right up against your cervix with each push. sticky abs pressed tightly against your back, drenching you in his salty sweat. his tip curled upwards into more of a point and at the base of his cock a bulbous structure meant for mating. the large veins pulsed against your tightly suffocating walls, sopping cunt singing in her own pleasure with a series of squelches.

 " 'm cumming!" you whined weakly, once more in a whisper. slowly beginning to draw blood from his arm, drenching his cock, your pussy barely able to clench and unclench around such girth. a growl resided in his chest and echoed into your ear, his hips barely faltering as he ferociously bit into your shoulder with a dangerous animalistic instinct. to keep his prey grounded and stuck in place as he fucked into your sopping wet hole, his ears twitching at the loud gushing of your cunt beneath his body.

 wiggling your hips in a desperate fight to get away from the overwhelming feeling of another climax only resulted in his sharp fangs digging deeper into your wounded shoulder from the previous bite. you squeaked, reaching a hand behind you to push at his hips with the strength of an injured rabbit. your hips swung in a frantic manner as pleasure overcame your senses. with a hazy state of mind, tears began to build in your eyes and drool pooled on the floor where your head laid still in a headlock.

 "wriooo~ i can't.." you weakly pleaded. " 'ts too much!" you couldn't scream. even if you wanted, you were stuck in his hold.

 "yes you can, darling.. i know you can. just a little more." he cooed softly in reassurance, in complete contrast to his unforgiving thrusts, rock hard cock beginning to twitch wildly.

 his nose scrunched as you began to shift around again, your hips pushing up against him. he heaved into your shoulder, furrowing his brows. "gonna breed you." he mumbled. "make you full.."

 he began to drool himself, biting down yet again into a different spot on your shoulder, spit rolling down your skin in hot streaks. with the arm not around your neck, his free hand came to hold onto your hip. groaning and growling, the more he twitched.. the louder he became. in desperation, his pace was erratic. and slightly sloppy.

 without warning a yelp was ripped from you as he pushed and pushed until he exploded. his knot was stuffed inside your tight cunt. silently, you screamed as the force of his stinging knot pushed through your sickeningly tight walls, creating an aching feeling in your cunt. burning hot cum filled your insides, his cock still twitching as his hips stuttered to ride out his climax. a few pain filled tears streamed down your drool covered cheeks, choking on a sob.

 he purred softly and with an arm no longer around your neck, he ran a hand down your hair.

 "shhh.. i got you. breathe in and out."

[abcwc]

sopping wet version included to show off bone structure a little better (skinny crowfeather build)

[theamberparadise]

BEN DROWNED THIRSTS

includes three NSFW drabbles. (dear lord. Here we fucking go) (I'm not even sure if these are counted as drabbles anymore they're so long.)

TWs; semi-public s3x (in the mansion's living room) , use of "b1tch", "wh0r3", improper use of wires, reader's boyfriend ch34t1ng on her, very brief mention of gore, blood from aforementioned gore, BEN begging for reader to send n00ds, cnc

BEN shoving the handle of his game controller inside your sopping wet cunt after making you lose the game on purpose.

You dont know how you got here.

Well, actually, you do.

You were about to lecture BEN on freezing your character on purpose during your fifth round of street fighter just to make you lose, enabling him to snag the unfair ultimate win.

You were fuming. You pressed every single button on your controller in a fury, squeezing on the L and R tabs before the back of your neck is grappled onto and your face suddenly meets the cushion.

Trying to rise up, your body strains and fails, falling back face-first once again onto the stuffy covers of the couch, a pair of cold, heavy metal chains weaving through your wrists.

Your knees can feel the hard structure under the soft material, and your back was aching on how much it ended up arching against its whim.

You were restricted. And you were exposed.

And yet, you've made no other effort to try and struggle against BEN's control.

A part of you tried to say something, but only a whimper slithers its way through your lips.

BEN chuckles at this, a few repeats of his guffaws loops over again in a glitched out manner, seeing your thighs tremble right before his very eyes. You twitch as soon as his ice-cold fingertips made their way under the waist band of your red boy shorts, tugging them down until your bent knees.

You feel a regrettable heat across your face when the cold, empty, mocking air kissed your bare cunt.

"No panties, babe?" his thumb pressed on the space right between your asshole and the edge of your cunt, almost as if it was threatening to shove itself inside.

You can only do so much but let out only a whine, hands balling into fists-- both in frustration and impatience.

His thumb then slides itself down until it meets your clit.

Your teary eyes close themselves, hips moving on their own nudging at him, begging to be finally relieved of what you've been so deprived of since coming to this hell of a mansion.

BEN notices this, of course. He grins even wider at the effort, clicking his teeth at the show he found himself tuning in.

"Just like that, bitch. Grind on it, grind on it just like that. Fuck yeah," he chided.

The blinking screen with the paused game displayed was long forgotten. It had been so long since you felt like this, not even your vibrator can match the feeling, not even close.

And as if he can read your mind, he struck your ass and gripped it like he wanted to mark you.

"Much better than that subpar pathetic little vibrator of yours, huh?" you thought you couldn't get any redder. But then again, he wasn't any better.

You manage to choke out, "N-not like your tentacle hentai c-can do much e-either..."

You can basically feel his stare getting hotter by the second.

"So you do know these walls were thin," His grip was tighter, now. "And yet you kept on using your little pink pill. It's like you wanted me to hear, didn't you, pixie?"

Without warning, he raised his free hand up and shoved two fingers inside your sopping cunt, immediately curling itselves inside you, while drilling in and out rapidly.

You squealed and whined in inconsistent, loud bursts. Your thighs seem to be moving on their own, swaying and pushing your own cunt more and more onto his fingers.

Maybe you really did wanted him to hear you almost every nightnight, if this is what you would get in return.

"You have any idea on who's really been controlling the settings on your toy, pixie? Any idea on who's been turning it on and off whenever you're about to cum?" his fingers continued to ram itselves so deliciously inside your dripping pussy while you wallow in the sudden realization on why your vibrator has been misbehaving lately.

Honestly, you should've known. Your room was beside his, and you already had an idea on how flexible his abilities can be. You just never realized he'd take so much interest in using it on you.

The sudden absence of his fingers put you off-guard as you see his shadow reaching out to the table. You growl in frustration.

"Easy now, girlie. Wanna do something," He condescendingly muttered.

When you feel him sit upright on the cushions behind you, you turn your head at him.

In his hand, sits his controller. He waved it at you like a mocking reward, before glancing at it once again.

With a slight raise of his eyebrow the controller suddenly began vibrating like it would when his game character took a hit, except this time-- it was him making the offense.

Your eyes widened, and before you begin to say anything he shoves the handle of the controller inside your cunt, its constant bursts of vibrations shakes you like a leaf. You moan, almost scream in ecstacy, like a curse within you was finally lifted.

"Ben!" you moaned out, dragging his name out on your drooling tongue.

"Yeah, pixie? Got something to say?" He mocked, nudging the controller up and down repeatedly, watching small spurts of your juices stain the cushions beneath him and you.

He laughs, free hand reaching down once again to rub your clit harshly, catching endless amounts of your slick ont his cupped palm.

"Shit-- don't you think you're liking this a little way too much than you're supposed to, bitch?" he scoffed, while you can only muster up another loud squeal, the vibrations getting more intense by the minute.

"If you do actually like this, then," he sighed, chuckling darkly while pressing the controller deeper, making you let go and squirt all over him and the couch, leaving behind a big, shameful mess that dripped on the floor. "Fuck. I think it's game over for me too, baby."

While inside an abandoned networking station that The Operator had sent you two out to recon and investigate in, BEN takes advantage of the isolation and fucks you with the overlaying wires that tangled from the ceiling. And instead of telling him off, you dance for him.

It was easy-- get in, scope the place, see if the routers can be repaired and leave.

Except, now you couldn't do that; because when you leaned backwards onto the dusty table where the monitors lay, pesky wires started to slither under your shirt.

You breathed, then smiled.

Upon looking up, you find your cheeky mission partner grinning at you.

At his side, his fingers were wiggling and twirling, it was clear on who had control of these neglected tech that were now paying attention to you.

BEN just couldn't resist ogling at your presses tits under the corset you wore, and you swear you felt him lightly grazing his fingertips just above where the rips of your leather pants reveal your skin.

The drive was almost an hour long, and now he finally gets to touch you without disturbing your focus-- and you weren't complaining.

In fact, he keeps on pestering you about sending your nudes to him every time he gets horny. (And those times, were-- well. Every time.)

And you loved it. You loved at how his black scleras almost tear up whenever you try avoiding him in the hallways, how his code flashed at you for a moment when you give him a little sneak peek in front of the others, and the slight tint his ears would emulate when you let yourselves check each other out on training.

You giggle at the thought. You can feel the coolness of the metals that were sticking out of the slender rubbers, sending goosebumps wherever they touch.

"Begging for a preview, baby boy?" He pouts at the nickname, earning you a slap on the side of your ass from a thick USB wire.

You squeal playfully before reaching up on the zipper of your corset, licking your freshly glossed lips before pulling them down ever so slowly.

But before you can even get to your midriff, an aux cord wrapped itself around your wrist firmly, raising your dominant hand up in the air.

Then, another wire raised your other hand until both were wrapped over your head. Your feet were now being grappled on by the lower cables behind your heels, and you looked as if you were being crucified.

The monitors behind you suddenly flicked on, displaying bright white static as the speakers above you blared a song-- which of you knew was BEN's choice.

The side monitor on your left (by which you figured was the source of the audio) flickered a tab, with the iconic pause-play buttons with a title on top.

"Is There Someone Else? - The Weeknd"

The beat started and you can hear the own sounds of your zipper being pulled all the way down until it popped, dropping your corset to the ground.

Your belt followed. Then your pants, then your bra, then your panties.

BEN was watching you like a hawk ready to eat. And you were more than happy to take the place as his prey.

It wasn't long until two wires started prodding at your clothed cunt, rubbing and circling at your hole.

You couldn't help but moan when the wires entered you, ramming in and out, both at separately delicious paces.

Your hips were met with BEN's cold palms. He leans in-- close, until his chin was resting on your shoulder, swaying your hips side to side.

You were gasping and whining his ear off, the constant please, please, please that leaked from your lips like sin, begging to be forgiven.

BEN rocks your hips back and forth, left and right in accordance with the song's distorted and echoing beat, making the gooey, spongy spot inside you melt from the constant prodding.

Another wire wedged itself between your teeth, wrapping itself around your head, making you bite on a makeshift gag.

You play along, nudging your clit on the metal of his belt for more friction, tilting your chest up and down so your nipples can harden even more.

He notices this. He notices everything. From the way you squeal a little louder than you already were when he rocks your hips faster, the way your teeth gently bites the side of his jaw a little more tighter when he forces you deeper...

"C-cock.. pleash.." you desperately begged, his hard on practically staring at you from below.

"Aw," he cooed at you as if you were but a baby. "So now you're desperate?"

He lifts his head, making your foreheads touch each other, the forced proximity between you two releases even more slick from your cunt, adding more wet onto the floor.

"Can't believe you were hiding all this from me," he reaches for your nipple and tugs at it harshly, before patting your hip in cunning encouragement.

"C'mon, girl... work for it."

After witnessing your boyfriend's head blow up in front of his screen in real time, a digital entity pushes you inside your former lover's hentai porn, causing you to be used by the entity while you watch your boyfriend's corpse bleed out while you get ruined in a digital realm of sex.

If only you got there in time.

You were getting stalked, not by a real person, but by something. And that something: was a cursed version of Zelda who goes by the name of BEN.

At first, you didn't know what he wanted. But his intentions became clear after three weeks of mental-- and sexual torture that he himself instilled.

All it took was one sketchy link on a sketchy website promising a part time job at a little restaurant to get him to appear.

You tried to resist. You needed to resist. Because the way he made you feel, was anything other than what you have experienced before.

And when he revealed to you that your "scum of a boyfriend" was cheating on you on several sites after it was eating up at you ever since your second anniversary with him.

You sobbed, of course. You were at an all time low, now. The person you gave two years of your life to, was sexting other girls behind your back.

But after he told you he was about to kill your not-so-significant other, you panicked.

You tried to tell him that it might be you the police will accuse the murder of, but he was already gone.

So, you put on what you could from your laundry basket and sprinted to your boyfriend's apartment, but once you saw the haunting red pooling on his bedroom carpet, it was too late.

His corpse seemed shell-shocked. You glanced at his monitor screen and you can see flickers of green code glitching in and out of a hentai anime your boyfriend apparently watched. You blush.

Out of stupid curiosity, you slowly stepped closer and closer to the screen, before being pushed inside the surprisingly physically accessible.

You grunt at the fall and after you take a look at your now-animated hands, you come to the conclusion that you were in a world that wasn't yours.

You met the entity face to face, and bit by bit, one thing led to another.

A lick turned to a kiss. A kiss turned into hickeys. Hickeys turned to undressing each other.

He terrified you. Yet, you didn't fight back.

And before you knew it, you were being pounded doggy style against the virtual barrier that reveals the gnarly sight of your now-dead boyfriend.

BEN tugs your hair up, giving you a full view of what he's done.

"Look at him. Fucking look at him!" he hissed, ramming into you even harder.

"What the fuck did I tell you, huh? What the fuck did I tell you?" the side of his face was touching yours, his breath lingered on your ear.

"H-he..ungh!" you choked out. His other arm was hooked on your neck, leading to your voice becoming strained and broken.

"He what? What, pixie?" he growled in an awfully, mocking glitched manner.

"H-he... ishn't.. Guhck! good enoufgh... for-- m-me!" you broke out. His chuckle was echoing in your ear.

"And who the fuck owns you? Who makes you feel this way?" when he realized you were too cock-drunk to respond, he strikes on your ass, earning a squeal from you.

"Y-you! Only you..!" You mewled out.

"That's right, bitch," he rammed into you harder. "Fuck-- you're gonna make me insane, girl."

You were screaming in ecstasy at this point. It didn't take you long to finally let go what you've been holding in for him, shaking and squirting all over the animated floor in his digital world, feeling his warm cum coat your ass.

You drop flat on the floor, your red, sore ass remaining in the air, fully exposed to him-- and only to him.

"Whore," He spat. Chuckling in a repeated manner, he palmed your ass, lotioning in his cum deeper and further up to your hips. All you could do was whine pathetically.

"I wonder how that would look like in real life," he teases. "Preferably with you covered in that pig's blood. Oh-- red would look so good on you, pretty."

[satoruhour]

gojo is a prone bone enthusiast you can’t convince me otherwise 😤😤😤😤

a/n: i think it’s impossible for me to write smtg without a lil story. forgive me yall / 0.7k / @hyomagiri @jabamin @shotorus @satohruu ���

warnings: fwb!gojo, sort of hate sex but they both have feelings, prone bone, unprotected sex, clit stimulation, pet names, praise, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

it’s filthy, the way gojo’s got you trapped under him so harshly and roughly, so in contrast with his candy sweet smile as he presented you with another bouquet of your favourite flowers — just another one of his escapades after completing a mission. in front of you, the blur of the flowers enter your vision, but you can hardly recall what colour combinations there were while being pounded into from behind.

“taking me s’well, fuck, baby,” gojo grunts as his body weight’s all pressed up on you: one hand on your lower back and triggering your arch while the other rests on the back of your neck — they hold you down, knees holding your plush thighs together while he watches your cunt stretch for him, “shit, angel, you sure you don’t want to make this a weekly thing?”

you’re moaning at the prospect of possibility getting his cock up your pussy every once a week, but you’re too prideful for that, claiming you hated him while getting soaking wet for him and letting him use you like a fuck toy in his office. his cushions smell like vanilla like you’ve always remembered, and there’s always your favourite piece of chocolate on his desk no matter when you come in, and his cock hits all the spots in you like it always does. maybe routine wouldn’t hurt, maybe gojo satoru wouldn’t mess with your feelings, not when he eats you out like your pussy was his oxygen and fucks you like he loves you.

“f—fuck, satoru—” your fingers dig into the fluffy cushion of the sofa, ass propping up just a little. with each thrust, his tip hits your cervix, kissing it barely just to send your eyes rolling back into your head. gojo moans at how tight you feel, spanning his hands over the expanse of your back and hovering over you.

“y-yeah? what is it, princess?” god, and these names he was calling you didn’t help one bit, angling his hips up into you and you preen, letting out something between a moan and a whine as your hips fuck back onto him.

“cock s’deep, ’toru, mmf…” the wooden structure of jujutsu high is old, terrible, so there’s no doubt the sounds of his pelvis slapping into the fat of your ass could permeate the walls, paired with the squelching slickness of your pussy and your mewls. you’re barely able to turn your body to see the man looming over you from behind, sweat sticking to his forehead, blindfold residing on his neck and ocean eyes trained on your side profile. he grunts softly when your eyes meet his and his hips stammer, switching to slow, grinding thrusts that cause your jaw to fall open. “sa— toru—! that— feels s’good…”

gojo tells himself not to cum when one of your hands wrap around the wrist next to your face, holding onto it for dear life as your body jerks from the deep, gradual thrusts he’s giving you. with this, he relishes in your pussy wrapping around him, the lewd drag of your sopping pussy lips spreading for him and sucking him in with each push of your ass on him; he briefly feels you play with your clit, rubbing impatiently as you held onto his arm.

“satoru, satoru, satoru— w’nna cum, ’m—” you’re squeezing his arm adorably, fingers twining with his that he’s the one who cums first. you were so cute, your hand closing around his as he squeezes your digits. gojo groans as he spills in you, shooting ribbons of cum deep into your cunt before he ignores the sensitivity of his cock and picks up the pace again. he knew you inside out, quite literally, fucking his cum back into you as your little pants pick up in volume again.

“oh my god— right the—” your eyes flutter close as your pussy squeezes his length, coating it with your cum and letting it drip down to his sofa and gojo thinks it’s one of the most beautiful sights he’s witnessed. below him, your mouth closes around his wrist and bites lightly for anchor, making his heart and dick jump at the look of your hooded lids and small smile. his hips move before he knows it, determined to breed you again and make you his.

“w’na go again…” you pant and kiss his skin, “...satoru.”

[trendywaifus]

Asking zhu yahn to keep her uniform top on so you can use her handle bars till she's a cock drunk and whimpering mess....the devious backshots you could do with them

GOOD HEAVENS. i think those handle bars are connected more to her tights and belt. I wonder what that designer was thinking when they made that tbh. like what’s the technical use for that? ik he was NOT thinking good thoughts when he put that on her.

anyways, not only will it be impossible to use those hand bars on zhu yuan naked, I think she’ll oppose the idea of having sex with you in her uniform (unfortunately), she has a lot respect for her job and it’ll be dishonorable. buttt that doesn’t mean you can’t give her those devious backshots! (: (cw: gn! with a dick/strap, overstimulation, restraints (toy cuffs), doggy style, dirty talk, creaming

“ taking me so well, aren’t ya, big girl? “ you’d groan, smacking your hips into the fat of zhu yuan’s ass, repeatedly stretching her gummy walls out with thick inches of your cock. your girlfriend, who’s hands are cuffed behind her arched back, face pressed against the pillows with her pretty ass in the air just for you, lets out a drawn out moan. your palms rub her hips as you slow down your momentum to fuck her nice and slow. she feels it—every drag of your dick rubbing up and down her sensitive walls, reaching further and further inside little by little. the fat head grazes a sweet, spongy spot she’s weak to and her knees almost cave in.

zhu yuan drools, swollen lips parted open. ecstasy sinks into her clouded mind, thinking nothing but about you, and only you. “ i-i. .” upon hearing her muffled voice, you arch a brow and settled with grinding yourself into her to focus on what she’s trying to say. “ yes, pumpkin? i’m listening. “

“ n-need you, i-i need you. . . “ she babbles, fluffy sable and orange streaked hair obscure over her eyes. you coo at her, dipping down to leave a trail of warm kisses up along her well-structured back. “ i know you do, big girl, you’re clenching me right now.”

your back straightens up and you retract your hips back. you bite your lip at the sight of your dick lathered with her slick and juices. strings of her fluid deliciously separate and stretch until it’s thin. “ you’re sopping, zhu yuan. “

she whimpers, mostly due to the emptiness, walls fluttering over nothing. “ (n-name), please, pleaseee. .” aligning yourself with her dripping entrance, you grasp her forearms. you slide yourself back in with ease and zhu yuan moans brokenly at the pleasured stretch. “ don’t hafta beg, baby. i’ll take good care of you. now, up, up. “ with a firm pull of her forearms, you maneuver her upper body upwards; doggy style. heaps of silky hair move accordingly with the slow startup of your thrusts, some pieces of her tousled hair sliding off to the side of her back.

“ you had a long day at work today, i’m gonna make sure you sleep real good tonight. “

zhu yuan’s body temperature become a few degrees higher at from your words, an involuntary shiver of anticipation skims up her back like a zap of lightning. your pace speeds up and the wet, addicting sound of your hips repeatedly smacking into her ass turn increasingly loud in your ears. if you’d had an audio recorder, you would gladly record how pretty your girlfriend’s moans are right now. compared to how she usually behaves outside of her work, this is the loudest you’ve ever heard her. your thrusts are snappy and rhythmic, zhu yuan’s knees quivers.

your eyes wander down, tongue swiping over your bottom lip from the memorizing sight of zhu yuan’s creamy skin leaving behind small ripples with every collision between your pelvis and her ass. “ oh my god, “ her pussy is greedily swallowing you up as if it needs you. zhu yuan’s a babbling and whimpering mess—you can’t see her face but you just know she’s at her prettiest right now. “ y’know what? i wanna fuck this pussy all night until you, mm, can’t walk straight tomorrow. all i want you to think about during your shift is me, sweetheart. “

after a few moments, you feel stickiness and sounds of slushing in your ears. again, your gaze dips down and it took every part of you to not rearrange her insides. a creamy ring pools around the base of your cock. “ you’re creaming on my dick, ‘zu. you must like the idea of getting fucked to the point of not being able to walk correctly, huh? i never knew you was secretly this dirty. “

a throaty moan crawls its way out of her throat. “ n-not tr-true, “ her head hangs low, face bright red, “ d-don’t say things like th-that, hngh! “ you give her forearms a firm tug, jerking her body into your rough thrust.

“ not true? then what is, big girl? why should i believe your words over what she’s showing me right now.”your hips rock against her ass in a circular rotation. her slick-coated walls throb and clench irregularly around you. zhu yuan mewls, digging her nails into the fleshy part of her palm until half crescents are engraved into her skin.

“ just let your pussy do all the talking. you don’t have to worry about a thing. “

[kedreeva]

What do you look for in your quail, structurally? What makes a major flaw that's an automatic cull (aside from things that are obviously incompatible with life or impair basic daily functions) vs a bird who might have some minor flaws but stays in the breeding flock vs your ideal?

I know a fair bit about horse and dog conformation but very little about the way birds are put together. I'm planning on getting quail sometime in the not-too-distant future and whilst I've done my research re: daily care (thank you for posting all you do about them! I've learned a lot from you and it's made me feel a lot more capable of sorting out quality information from poor information as I've been reading care guides, blogs, etc) I want to know more about what makes for a quality bird so I can ensure that when I do eventually get a male I'm breeding towards quality and not putting out more substandard BYB birds.

So, there's not really a "standard of perfection" for coturnix the way there are for, say, horses, or chickens, or dogs. They're a game bird. Right now as it stands, the only 'standard' officially for game birds is "if they are alive, they are perfect" because the point of a game bird is survival. There IS a group that are attempting to put out a standard of perfection for coturnix, but the club is a) really young, like a year old and b) paywalled. You can't see the SOP at all until you pay a $25 fee and... I'm sorry, but I'm not going to do that.

So, what you turn to in this instance is the wild type.

C. japonica

and on the ground:

and C. coturnix

And on the ground

Pretty much all the "coturnix" quail in the USA are hybrids of these two species (and even possibly others), as they were not kept well separated over the years.

If you want to breed to a standard of perfection for a game bird, then you breed toward its wild type- black beak, Red reds, gradient chest, somewhat slender body, clean markings, the ability to stand well on their legs (some coturnix get really stubby legs), no "roached" back, bigger wings, correct facial markings, etc.

If you just want to breed for HEALTH, then you want a nice smooth back, nice high legs that make it easy for them to walk around, a face that isn't smushed in on itself and also isn't so collapsed down that it becomes thin and needle like. Good feathering on your birds (especially the belly, which can suffer if the bird isn't standing up on its legs like it should). A good temperament (ie, not aggressive, not throwing itself senselessly at walls and stuff if you so much as look their way, etc) is a must for keeping them healthy, because it means the males won't overbreed/injure the hens, the hens won't pick on each other, and the birds won't injure themselves out of fear.

On the chicks, you will want to cull things like clubbed feet, powder down, crossed beaks, wry neck... pretty much anything that isn't a vigorous, healthy chick. You do NOT want to assist hatch eggs; the only except may be if you open the incubator and you see a current pip, and come back and it hasn't zipped in a few hours, as you may have caused that problem. But, assist hatching just creates weaker individuals. Personally i don't keep late-hatch birds for breeding (nothing over 18 days, and most of mine hatch at 16-17, so even 18 is pushing it for me), and I don't keep late-to-lay hens if I can help it (if they aren't laying by 12 weeks, they go, as they should be starting to lay by about 10 weeks).

On eggs, you typically don't want to hatch anything under 14g. That said, if you're starting with standards, none of your eggs will be that size. In that case, check the average weight of your eggs to determine a median weight, and then say okay, nothing below the median gets hatched. Re-assess when you find yourself able to set the majority of your eggs, to find the new median, until the majority of your eggs are over 14g. Anything above 20g has a fairly high possibility of being double yolked. You also want to keep up with egg shell quality; test strength by giving a relatively gentle squeeze between your pointer and thumb (over a sink or big bowl). A normal egg will be able to withstand a pretty good deal of pressure. Shells should be relatively bright, smooth, and shiny, not matte, not bumpy, not pale (heavy bloom, not enough protoporphyrin), not dark (too much protoporphyrin affects hatch rate). Egg shape should be fairly uniform, with a clear wide side and narrow side, without being misshapen (elongated, squashed, rippled, etc).

I hope that at least gets you started!

[edwisefoundation]

Crafting a Persuasive Statement of Purpose (SoP) for Australia: Key Steps and Tips

Crafting a persuasive Statement of Purpose (SoP) is essential for your Australia study visa application. This guide provides a step-by-step process to write an effective SoP that highlights your qualifications, interests, and fit for the program. It emphasizes the importance of thorough research, clear structure, and customization for each university. By following these guidelines, you can create a compelling SoP that strengthens your application.

For more detailed insights on crafting a perfect SoP, visit the SoP for Australia page.

[mentorshelly]

Unleashing Efficiency: The 4 Indispensable Benefits of SOPs in Business

Navigating the complexities of business can be daunting, but with well-crafted Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), your enterprise can move with precision and confidence. Let’s delve into four transformative benefits of SOPs: 1. Unmatched Consistency: SOPs are the secret ingredient to uniform excellence. They ensure every product and service meets your high standards, reflecting the reliability…

[daceydeath]

After Party

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Word Count: 0.7K Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities, Swearing, Alcohol

A/N: This is literally come from seeing Hyunjin be too damn fine at the Versace show I have no excuse other than it's his own fault.

You had seen him at the show, his beauty accentuated by the sultry unbuttoned silk shirt and thin black choker but avoided him, sitting far from him you had managed to stay mostly out of his sight as he mingled and participated in interviews after the show. Now changed into a less structured dress you hoped that you would have the same luck at the party you were now stepping into. The drinks flowing and the music loud you were able to see glimpses of him as he danced his red leather trench flashing brightly as he moved. But as you drank and laughed your caution dropped you found yourself exactly where he wanted you to be. Your back pressed against a door you dress hitched up around your waist as his hands wandered across your burning skin.

“Hyunjin, we need to stop” you breathed, the warning lacking any conviction as you continued to kiss his lips between words. “You know we can’t”.

“Is that really what you want darling?” he smirked, kissing you deeply as swallowing the small gasp you let escape your throat. His fingers moved your underwear aside to let his fingers trace your damp folds. “You still can’t just admit you are mine and not his”.

His coat had been dropped to the floor somewhere behind him he had let go of it the moment he had cornered you in the empty room, now with his black trousers undone enough to get them halfway down his thighs he roughly sheathed himself inside you you eyes opening wide as you silently cried out his hips not stopping to give you even a second to adjust before he began thrusting into you with harsh desperation.

"Hyunie" you whined brokenly, your breath being punched out of you with each movement of his cock. "Please, I can’t…". 

"Tell me to stop then" He strained his voice thin "Tell me you don't want my cock so deep inside you, you will never forget how it feels". You clenched and moaned, your head falling back against the door, your brain starting to fog with pleasure too much to even comprehend how to speak.

"Ah... Ngh... Hyunjin" you breathed unable to make a sentence of even two words while his lips and tongue work on your neck nipping and sucking lightly at your flesh. “Please, more”.

"That's what I thought, you will always be mine darling" he uttered sensually moving his lips to mesh with yours, his tongue licking into your mouth which you were so willing to allow. Feeling the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix was sending red hot tendrils of pleasure through your body forcing you to pull him in closer with your leg that had remained tightly wrapped around his hip when he had placed it earlier.

"Fuck I need you so bad" Hyunjin groaned against your lips "Need to fill you, breed you, own you". His words were making you spiral the already insane level of pleasure from his perfect length pounding into you was sending you hurtling toward your high. Your thighs twitched and your eyes blurred with unshed tears until finally you broke, cuming so hard around him that his hips stuttered as your walls fluttered and gripped him so tightly you thought you might pass out.

"Hyunnie... Fuck Hyunnie" you sobbed feeling him resuming his previous pace each time he pressed into you the dull ache that followed him making you squirm in his grip.

"Relax darling I got you" he soothed his heavy panting against you neck slowing the speed of his hips and letting you breathe your vision is hazy now white dots appearing around the edges of the room but Hyunjin just kisses you again his lips soft and comforting contrasting in the best way to how he's pounding into your sopping cunt. "Only mine darling, only ever mine".

Each word leaving you shivering and gasping as you cum again only this time after a few more thrust Hyunjin follows you filling you with his hot seed as he presses himself as deep as he can inside your quaking walls.

"Hyunnie I..." You whisper, unable to trust your voice to come out properly.

"I know darling, I love you too. I always will" he smiles against your lips before kissing them sweetly.

a/n: Thank you for reading my loves you support, likes, reblogs and comments are my greatest encouragements and I appreciate you endlessly for them.

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow @mrsseals16 @fawnpeaks

@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @uno7 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser

[drdemonprince]

how do i respond to a friend who is certain that I should be contributing to palestine non-profits instead of boosting operation olive branch campaigns for individuals and families? Is it really more strategic to help an org than to send a person money?

Most organizations are run not by Palestinians, but by wealthy American & European people who represent the interests of their state more than the wellbeing and autonomy of the people being colonized. They offer aid conditionally, and deny it to the people who do not meet those conditions, and place firm restrictions on which kinds of resources they can access with that aid. That's before you even consider the percentage of the money that non-Palestinian employees for these organizations (particularly leadership) sop up for themselves.

Giving people in need money directly is *always* the best use of your money. It means less waste, less likelihood of supporting a shady governmental agenda, and even more importantly, it signals to the people who are directly effected that you respect them to make their own choices. It's far more empowering and respectful. The people on the ground in Gaza know best what they need, and they are in the position to access those needed resources immediately, on their own terms. Giving money to an org just makes them dependent upon the very countries that have colonized them.

(You should always give money directly to unhoused people for the same reasons, too).

[heycarrots]

There’s been a lot of discourse about the nature of James and Miranda’s relationship. There’s even been a lot of discussion on my podcast about it. One thing I want to make clear is that my podcast is a platform for discussion on all points of view. I’m not going to agree, 100%, with everything that’s said, but it makes the views of my guests no less valid. There’s no right or wrong, here, because this is art and therefore, it is subject to interpretation.

My intent, however, is to attempt to get as close to the original intent of the actors as possible because we look at a show or a film or a play as going through several layers of distillation. Each level purifies the intended narrative leaving its truest essence.

When we make a reduction sauce using an alcohol of some kind, let’s say a red wine, the heat applied to it burns off things we don’t need for flavor. You’re never going to get drunk off of red wine reduction because there’s almost no alcohol left in it. That all gets burned off, leaving only the flavor components, which is what we wanted all along, anyway. We want that extra element that enriches the flavor of the steak, by adding nuance.

So let’s take apart that meal.

We start with the birth of the idea. The story kicks around in an author’s head, trying to get out, growing bigger and more persistent until it outgrows the confines of the mental box inspiration is stored in and has to be let out. That idea, that’s the cow.

The author raises that idea, feeds it, watches it grow, and then, ultimately slaughters it. That sounds awful, but once you have that idea pulsing, growing, evolving and then finally commit the final draft on paper, it is a kind of death. The life of the story comes to an end and it becomes memorialized in a mausoleum. Readers will come to visit, spend time with it, lay down flowers, cherish it, and mourn its passing.

The next level is adaptation. That’s the steak. There are many ways you can slice the story, large roasts encompassing the whole story or a smaller, hyper-focused character study fillet mignon.

A writers room gets hold of the cow and carves it up. They choose what gets cooked and what gets tossed. A GREAT group of writers saves the bones. They take in the entire supporting structure of the piece and while the whole story may not make it onto the screen, they will have slow roasted the bones for a stock. When you watch a show like Black Sails, where themes are introduced that won’t fully be explained or explored until several seasons later, that’s what that is. It is the stock being used to flavor the whole dish. You’ve distilled the entire cow to its purest essence and so every scene, every line of dialogue, every acting choice, encompasses the entirety of the story. A line from episode one is defined by knowledge of the finale and in regard to dialogue, defined by an actors’ knowledge of a character’s backstory. There are many writers rooms who are creating the bones of the story as they go, which means they aren’t starting with a rich stock. You can’t trace back character motivations or choices to begin with because those motivations changed throughout production.

Black Sails, again, isn’t one of those shows. Steinberg and Levine came into the writers room with their stock pot full and sloshing, spilling story everywhere. The richness of the details they were laying can make season one a bit hard to consume unless you are ready for a story on that level. Viewers need to come to the table with some bread to sop up all those character details because we WILL need them later.

Over the course of finalizing scripts and blocking out episodes, the steak is cooked. Like any great steak, this story is medium rare. More juice comes out with every bite. It’s what makes the show infinitely rewatchable. It continues to cook on the plate, but because it wasn’t overdone, it never dries out.

When the actors get ahold of it, that’s the reduction sauce we were talking about. That sauce provides nuance and flavor. That’s the emotion. A line of dialogue on a page is just ink. It’s nothing until it’s spoken aloud. And like any bit of language in this world, it’s subject to interpretation. In this case, it’s the actor who does the interpreting.

I spoke on the podcast about the art of subtext and how huge a role it plays in Black Sails. One example we used is Jane Eyre. It’s one of the most frequently adapted novels in the English language and with each adaptation, we get a new version of our characters. The most volatile and subject to change is Rochester. There are MANY versions of Rochester that I find appalling (including the original beast in the book), but each actor has formed him into something else, based on their performance. Toby Stephens takes Rochester and turns him into a silly tragic romantic, broken many times over by a society he never really fits into, despite the status of his birth. He connects with Ruth Wilson’s Jane because she fully and happily inhabits that space on the fringes that Rochester thinks he needs to climb out of. Jane takes his hand on the outside of the wall, turns him away from the guarded palace and shows him the wild world that was at his back this whole time.

This is what Toby Stephens, Luke Arnold, Louise Barnes, Zethu Dlomo, and really all the actors for whom their subtextual choices make them reflect like prisms, have done with their performances.

In the final distillation, character motivations and emotions are finalized by the actor. Writers can pontificate, the source material lies dead in its lovely tomb, but stories live and breathe by their storytellers.

What we’re left with is Toby’s face telling the world how deeply Flint loves Silver. Every single choice tells this story.

We’re left with Luke showing us how much Silver is repressing in his feelings for Flint. Luke’s face shows us an incredible depth of feeling and a door slamming shut.

We’re left with the incredible intimacy between James and Miranda, which speaks of a decade of shared physical intimacy. There’s an openness, a freeness to it until the moment in episode 3 when Miranda learns that James has found the Urca and is leaving soon to pursue it. She gives some of it away when she says “I thought I’d have you all to myself”. She is mourning the loss of intimacy that she only gets in short windows of time. They aren’t strained because James isn’t attracted to her, but because he’s rarely there. She has him for a few days at a time before he’s off on another hunt. The coldness starts from the moment he tells her he’s leaving in a few days because I believe she thinks he won’t be coming back, that this is the hunt he won’t survive and she’ll finally have lost both James and Thomas. From the moment Richard Guthrie darkens her door, she’s looking for a way to weaponize him and get them out. For her, it’s a race against the clock and she’s willing to sacrifice a bit of her relationship with James in the present to secure happiness for them in the future.

This is also why James still has sex with her before leaving, even though he’s furious for her reading Meditations to Richard. This is how they connect. They connected through physical intimacy in the flashbacks, as well. Him stroking her thumb in the carriage before the kiss. Tactile contact to seal their understanding of each other. Miranda bracing her hands on his chest during important moments in the Hamilton’s home, something she also does to Thomas, to show physical connection, physical intimacy. Miranda thrives on physical touch.

To think that, for 10 years, James is lying there like an object for Miranda to use, is, to me, short sighted. To think that James doesn’t love Miranda outside of a group, is also ignoring the fact that, 10 years on, James will not leave on a hunt (angry as they both are) without physically connecting with her, trying so hard to reach beyond his anger and the wound freshly opened from sight of that book he’s chosen not to look at for probably the better part of those 10 years. The way his hands hover over her back after she comes and he desperately wants to be with her in that moment, like the best of their moments, but he just can’t, speaks to the depth of his love for her.

So many fans of the show point to this sad sex scene as one of the most important character moments for James and Miranda, but I consistently come to the opposite conclusions about WHY it’s important and what we learn from it, because I’m taking my cues from the actor’s choices, not the director or the writers. On the page, in plain ink, he hates having sex with her. Toby and Louise show us, however, that they are trying to recapture a thing that is fleeting, reaching out to each other to patch up an old wound from which the scab has been picked off, leaving it seeping and raw.

From Toby’s performance, regardless of the words he uses years later to describe it, we see not a character who “loves men” or a character who “loves women”, but a character who LOVES. I don’t see Flint defining that love in terms of boxes and parameters. He’s a character who must be coaxed out, but then loves without reason, without a safety net, as he proves with his love of Silver. As was also referenced by a guest on the podcast, he places a sword in Silver’s hand and says “do it”.

Anyway, this post got away from me and took several turns, but the love between James and Miranda being dismissed by so many in the fandom has been bugging me for a while and I just needed to emotionally vomit on tumblr.

[mayerfeldconsulting]

How to create a scalable business with standardized processes ⚙️

Scaling a business is not just about hiring more people or increasing sales, it’s about ensuring that your operations can support sustainable growth. Businesses that lack standardized processes struggle with inefficiencies, inconsistent quality, and costly mistakes as they expand.

To build a business that scales efficiently, focus on these key steps:

📌 Identify & map key processes to eliminate bottlenecks

📌 Document SOPs to ensure consistency across teams

📌 Use technology to automate and streamline repetitive tasks

📌 Set clear KPIs to track process effectiveness

📌 Train employees to align with standardized workflows

Companies that take a structured approach to process standardization scale faster, reduce operational risks, and improve overall efficiency. At Mayerfeld Consulting, we help organizations build scalable frameworks that support long-term growth.

Are your processes built to grow with you?