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#honors English major
plucky-passerine · 1 year
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Honestly I think half of the people criticizing “academia” for not representing real world experiences just… aren’t in academia.
Like if you want real world experiences get off social media, read a book written by a queer black woman in the seventies, and talk to your elders in the community. Don’t listen to the anti-intellectuals claiming higher education has no value.
Alison Bechdel and Audre Lorde are taught as major reading material in my university classes. I promise you it’s not all Freud and Shakespeare.
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boxwinebaddie · 2 months
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Unrelated to your tfbw au I just consumed and not a question but I find myself saying “woza” because of you /pos and I just think you should know that your writing has that kind of influence (I doubt I’m the only one experiencing this kind of Ninafication).
Anyway I think your content is golden and truthfully I mostly go on here to read your posts, no lie it literally makes my day better. Ok no more buttering, just thought I’d stop lurking for a sec 8)
AAAAAAA!!!! hello, my darling!!!! <3333 omg, i love the *stan vc* wowza. it's just the finest exclaimation of suprise, enchantment, merriment and awe. also, it's cute shdksh.
choose your fighter: the kyle 'mmm' sound or *stan vc* Wowza~
but when i tell you i am cheesing so hard!!!! that makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside. i think it's so cute when you guys tell me about your accidental ninafication or that you use my weird little ncu ninaisms in your real lives. <333 i remember when people were telling me about how they started telling their friends that they 'hope they heal' or how they accidentally started saying *nina vc* 'JAIL!!!!
re: the specific weird colloquialisms i created in my style fanfics though. it really means a lot to me that you guys enjoyed stuff like the share chair or stan calling kyle kyle pile in pep or kyle calling stan stan the man w/ the plan, me making weird side characters like pep corner store guy raj as our narrator, or even just smile pendejo or i hope you heal because??? that was all stuff that i invented within the context of my ncuniverses and don't exist in the sp universe at all?
which is not to say i created them thoughtlessly or haphazardly, quite the opposite actually! i created them very consciously around how i think my styles would address each other, cute teenage boy things, their little inside jokes, style signing when stan is depressed etc. but the fact that that resonated with you guys enough and made enough sense in my fanfictions that you don't mind that i cobbled them into the canon and actually enjoy them enough to use them!!! AAAAA!!!
i'm sorry you got ninaficated, darling, but i am so glad you did. thank you for enjoying my content. recently, i've been feeling a lot of imposter syndrome over it again and wondering if i'm just kind of yelling into the void, posting content that people don't care about. i worry about my cadence in my posts, if they seem to be written poorly, if i'm clogging your dash with my nonsense...but this is very reassuring. i am glad you guys still care about my stuff even though it's been forever, i try to keep it really fun and interesting on here and shift gears a lot through my posts to keep your brains working.
and on the note of shifting gears and keeping things interesting, thank you for reading my tfbw posts AAAAAA!!!! i know i am insane, but if you tell me you read stuff about everything is going to be o.k :) or to kill a king and enjoyed it i will personally feed you candy. ilysm.
which i hope when you consumed it, it was candy-like in flavor!!!! i hope very much that you enjoyed it!!! i put a lot of time into my lore for it so it makes me super happy when you guys enjoy my less asked about au content. especially because!!! strangely enough, rm was my project AFTER pep that quite literally no one was asking about and i made just for me...and now...here we are like 200 asks later.
...Wowza.
all in all, thank you so much, my lovely, for this message. i feel like we listen to me blather so often that i never get to hear from any of you! so it's really nice when you guys chime in and i can chat with you! also, not to freak you guys out, but i do camp on the notes sometimes and get really excited when i see someone liking a bunch of posts because either you're catching up on your light reading of my bullshit or you're new which...welcome to hell, enjoy your Slay! xx
-uncle nina, space heating the room w/ my blush
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raiiny-bay · 1 year
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well & truly tired of having to do school work every single day
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arthur-r · 7 months
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emily wilson out here translating the iliad and i am once again wishing i knew how to read and translate ancient greek
#listen where there’s a will there’s a way but i just finished my degree audit and looks like i will only be able to manage a classics minor#with latin emphasis (unless i abandon latin for greek which i’m not going to do even though it pains me)#but i really want to make my own iliad someday….#at this rate i’ll only ever end up making a queer prose adaptation and be criticized for projecting modern notions of sexuality onto a#completely different set of values and social understandings of homosexuality….#(which. if anything there should be more gay people in the song of achilles. don’t be mean to me i promise i understand ancients)#anyway i might just have to make a book of poetry or a novel adaptation or whatever whatever but what if i want to learn the script#and painstakingly translate every single word through years and years of dedication. while also being a librarian as my main thing#shdhdhdf i’m never gonna be classics scholar enough to professionally translate. and if i were it would be latin. but i can dream….#anyway i’m no longer failing my french class (have a 70% that should only be going up) but i’m still failing historical linguistics#my latin grade is great i’m acing it but my library science class is a D (which should be fixed in two days though — just needs more data)#so i am giving myself permission to sleep early tonight and go into class well rested for once. i’m not feeling well but that’s a constant#anyways if anyone reads the wilson iliad let me know!! i’m a fake fan of her work and haven’t read her odyssey (something about the iliad….#there’s a brutality and a raw humanity to it that puts the odyssey at a lower priority to me) but im so freaking excited to read her iliad#i have to prioritize schoolwork but soon. i’ll have to ask my latin teacher about it tomorrow though she’s an iliad enjoyer#anyway good news i think i’ll be able to get a history major with certificates in digital studies and classical studies (the two genders….)#and graduate comfortably in four years with honors in the major. this is ignoring how i’m failing my classes. i promise i won’t be forever#anyways the point is: wilson’s iliad — i will read it as soon as possible and i’m very excited#also i checked out a book from the library called the lexicographers dilemma: the evolution of proper english from shakespeare to south park#but i haven’t had the chance to read it and soon it will be due…. college is evil i’m too busy learning things to learn other things!!!!#anyway if i do honors in the major then i’m excited to eventually earn credit from a capstone thesis which i would do on lexicography#throughout history with an emphasis on classification systems and basically peter mark roget#ok anyway. wandering all over the place but the point is. wilson’s iliad. very exciting. can’t wait to find the time#and eventually i will write an iliad adaptation of my own i will. just not a full translation shdhdf that’s an unrealistic goal#especially when again. my capstone project is going to be about taxonomy of ideas. ancient epics are secondary….#anyway i hope everybody is doing well!! i am going to bed soon-ish but other than that i am around so lmk if you need anything#me. my post. mine.#college talk#delete later
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pallases · 1 year
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guys im actually really nervous abt taking an english class next semester 😭 im so out of practice i feel like stem has rotted my brain*
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caveangelascendant · 2 years
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yippee what was going to be my favorite class got replaced by one with subjects that are going to drive me up the fucking wall to focus on for 6 months at a time 😐
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leejihoonownsmyheart · 4 months
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Sehnsucht (M)
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Summary:
You and Wonwoo have been rivals since your first of University, and despite it being your final year, that rivalry doesn't seem like it's going anywhere soon when you both end up in German 101.
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Tags: dub con, academic rivals to fucking academic rivals, mean!woo, both are super smart, german- BECAUSE OKAY IM IN GERMAN RN AND I WAS LIKE WHAT IF I ADD A LITTLE BIT OF GERMAN AND THEN I ADDED A FUCKING LOT SO language kink 😊, a HUGE abuse of the german language, ALSO IM IN GERMAN 101 SO GOOGLE WAS MY BEST FRIEND SO IM SORRY IF ANY OF IT IS WRONG I DONT UNDERSTAND VERB PLACEMENT, okay, Wonwoo is genuinely mean okay? Keep in mind, creampie, public sex because we know I love it, wonwoo rawdogs it, lots of teasing, brats all around, rough sex?
I did end up with my own German consultant, thank you @hyunjins-dimples and I did ignore some of their german language advice because I just did, anyways I will be ignoring any and all german language critiscism from anyone other than my beautiful, perfect, amazing, german friend tyvm : )
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“Alright, and when you conjugate the verb komme, as in to come, where would you place the verb?” Your professor asked. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought as his gaze crossed over the class. “As in a sentence like. I go to Germany?”
You thought over your answer in your head, clearly for too long as suddenly your professors’ eyes were across the room.
“Uh, Wonwoo?”
“Ich komme nach Deutschland.”
“Good!” Your professor said with a nod. You could feel a gaze land on you, and you didn’t have to look over to know that a smug look was being shot at you. You rolled your eyes and pressed your cheek into your hand. “In some sentences there are two verbs. Does anyone know what we would do if we had kommen and an in the same sentence. As in to say something about August?”
Your hand shot up before you could think about it. Your professor nodded at you, and you tried to cooly answer.
“Ich an komme im August?” You murmured, unable to keep the question out of your voice. You knew you had made a mistake when you heard a stifled chuckle from the other side of the classroom. And your professor’s eyes drifted to the side, his mouth falling open as he tried to find a nice way to say that you were wrong.
“Right well, if you said that it wouldn’t be quite right.”
You pressed your eyes closed in frustration as Wonwoo spoke without even raising his hand.
“It would be Ich komme im August an,” he said, and there was no doubt in his voice that he was right.
“Richtig, gut,” your professor praised lightly, before continuing to tell you all the nuances of where the verb was placed in sentences and when it should be where. You felt your fingers clasp at your apple pencil tighter and this time you looked over at the gaze across the room.
You glared at Wonwoo, wishing he wasn’t so good at this.
You had been fighting in classes with Wonwoo since your freshmen year of college. You weren’t sure how come your classes always collided so much. After all, he was an English major, and you were in Zoology. It didn’t make sense for you two to meet in so many classes, past of course, gen eds but regardless you saw Wonwoo practically everywhere that you went.
It was so frustrating. You hadn’t known him in high school and in high school you had been the valedictorian. You were in the honors college, and you already had plans on where exactly you were going to go for your Bachelors. So, when you sat down for your first Chemistry class, buzzing with the excitement of knowing exactly what you were going to say. You were a bit annoyed to find that somebody else was raising their hand just a millisecond faster than you were.
Your very first day in Chemistry ended up being a fierce race between you and this Wonwoo on who could answer the fastest, and you were both very good at Chemistry.
In every class that you two were in whether it be Chemistry, Biology, Writing, or gender studies and attitudes of the world, you and Wonwoo were sat down after about the second week with your professor, encouraged to let other students answer questions in class.
Sometimes you two just immediately turned to each other and whispered the answer at one another with sharp gazes.
So, you were a bit pissed when you sat down for German 101 at the beginning of your last semester and stupid Wonwoo was in your class.
How could you have possibly had at least one class with him every single semester at this university? Would it go on to grad school? Would you two be stuck at an internship together? God forbid you two visit Germany at the same time.
You shivered at the mere thought.
What was an English major even doing taking German? For goodness sake, you only chose the class because you thought it would be the last class he would be in.
And to add onto that, why the fuck was he so good at German?
It was German 101. Literally elementary German and sentence structure in German was confusing as hell so why was he finding it so easy.
You tried not to scowl too hard as you thought about it, wondering what gave him the right to just be good at everything he did. You would have to stay even later at the library tonight if you were going to manage to keep up with him.
After class, as you packed your things, you made a point to brush past Wonwoo, ‘accidentally’ bumping your shoulder into his. You never knew why you did that really. He was practically immovable.
You wondered if it was possible for him to study and workout at the same time.
Maybe he just didn’t work.
But you did and you worked quite a bit. Which meant jam sessions where you tried to force the material that you didn’t know down your throat in only a manner of hours.
Which meant you were at the library late a lot.
Not that, that was the only place that you ran into the asshole.
“You must be a bit desperate to even be studying at lunch time,” Wonwoo commented. You looked up from your little hole in the dining room- The one spot in the whole cafeteria that you felt completely comfortable in. Tucked in a corner where no one could see you.
You couldn’t hear the buzz of the students around you in this little corner booth, and you had every opportunity to just pull your legs up on the seat, and enjoy the world around you.
“What are you doing over here?” You hissed, instead of arguing the desperate allegations. You definitely were desperate, to be studying while you were eating lunch, and there was no point in arguing that.
Unfortunately for you, Wonwoo was a good study. And that meant that he had been able to study you over the years, along with all of his other assignments. Frustratingly enough, he always knew when you were lying. So, there was no point in trying to pretend like you weren’t.
“I just came to eat as well,” he stated.
He took a seat right next to you, forcing your feet to the floor. He didn’t have any food with him, and you wondered why that was until he reached around you and plucked one of the fries off of your plate.
“Hey-”
“What are you even studying?” He asked you. You rolled your eyes. Advanced biology.
“Nothing you would know,” you grumbled. He took a single glance at your screen, and mumbled the answer to the question that you felt like you had been thinking about for hours. You tried to keep your anger to a minimum. “Well, duh, that’s easy.”
How did he know that?
“If it’s so easy, why have you been here all day?” Wonwoo pressed. He didn’t even have his own things with him.
“Have you been stalking me?” You blurted, noting that it did sound a little shrill.
“No… I could just hear you trying to think from across campus.”
You started to spew insults at Wonwoo because, well, how else were you supposed to respond to him? But they fell on deaf ears. Wonwoo simply plucked a few more of your fries from your plate, and then walked away as if the conversation had ended ages ago.
You got your chance for proper payback a few weeks later.
When you saw that there was going to be a mandatory lecture for English majors by James Franco… Well, you just knew you had to be there. A study on english composition and how it is seen in history and therefore portrayed in film. You had been studying english and film in your free time for almost your whole life.
For you, it was a pipe dream… Which meant that if there was anything that you were going to show up Wonwoo in…
You excitedly sat next to him in the lecture hall, shooting him a bright smile despite the early hour.
“Coffee?” You offered him. Wonwoo looked exhausted, you’d heard there was a mandatory frat party the night before. Poor guy was probably up all night.
He gave you a suspicious expression while he looked at the cup, but he seemed to remember quickly that he was a bit too tired to say no to it. He took the cup and took a swig from it.
“Poison?” He asked you, even though you both knew you had ordered him his favorite kind.
“I’m thinking of a much slower death,” you replied lightly. You tapped the desk in front of you. “Aren’t you excited? James Franco… Wow, imagine that… One of the only notable PhD holders in English and he’s an actor.”
You seemed to think over your words.
“It’s almost as if being an English major is just a hussle for most people… Must be an easy way to get a doctorate.”
You kept your voice airy.
“How does that sound, Doctor Jeon Wonwoo?”
It was all meant to strike a chord in him but something about using such a high title with him made your mouth go dry. Wonwoo’s eyes darkened a bit, and you knew that he wanted to press the way that you had addressed him. You didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Well,” you said quickly. “I hope you’re ready for this lecture. I would hate for your head to hurt too much to enjoy it.”
Wonwoo grumbled.
“You talk too damn much.”
-
It was always like that with Wonwoo, a constant game of pushing and pulling and before you knew it your first test was coming up in German. You weren’t sure how things were going to go with it, but you did know that between all of your other classes you hadn’t had much of a chance to study for German.
And that meant cramming.
And cramming on a normal day was a lot and on days especially like this one. It left you feeling very delirious.
“Ich bin nicht klug…” You mumbled to yourself, not only furrowing your eyebrows at the fact that you were pretty sure you said it wrong, but also trying to figure out when the fuck you were supposed to use not, and how the fuck you added it to a sentence.
“Richtig,” a voice mumbled, dragging you away from the quizlet open on your tablet. “Du bist nicht klug.”
You glared at Wonwoo.
“I don’t need you to tell me I’m not smart. I was just talking,” you grumbled at him. He hummed, placing a hand in your little cubicle, leaning over your head to look at your quizlet.
“Well, it’s true,” Wonwoo commented. “Du bist sehr schlecht im Gebrauch von Verben im Deutschen.” You were frustrated to find that no matter how hard you thought about it, you had no clue what he had just said. Not that he even gave you time to process. “Oh, es tut mir leid. I said that you are very bad at verb usage in German.”
You elbowed Wonwoo as you wheeled your chair to the side, trying to get out from under him. He let his back press against the divider to your left, so you got to your feet.
“Why the fuck are you so good at German anyways?” You blurted. “Why the fuck does an English major need to know German?”
Wonwoo shrugged.
“Just thought it would be fun to take.”
You were furious. German was the only thing that you weren’t able to keep up with Wonwoo in.
You two had been matching rivals in Chemistry and your gender studies class. You had smoked him in Biology, but he had never been able to beat you in a class before. Even in writing you both ended up with the same exact grade on every assignment. So why German?
Why was he so good at German?
“You know you’re disrupting my studying,” you grumbled, a bit annoyed by his interruption. You slid your tablet to the side, and picked up your water bottle, taking a sip. As you did Wonwoo held out his hand, clearly expecting you to share your water with him.
You rolled your eyes at his audacity.
You handed him your water bottle. 
“Do you need help studying?” Wonwoo asked, and it would seem genuine if it weren’t for that condescending look in his eyes. “I bet even after hours of studying you don’t know how to form a sentence.”
You knew enough German to say: “Ich hasse dich.” Because you had learned the phrase, I hate you specifically to say it to Wonwoo.
He stepped a bit closer to you.
“You could also say Dich hasse ich,” Wonwoo clarified. “It’s interchangeable in that sentence.”
You two stared at one another, and it was only then that you realized exactly how close you two were to one another. Your eyes flickered across his perfect face. Smooth, glassy skin, gorgeous dark eyes framed in glasses that should make him look like a nerd but instead just made him more handsome, and pretty pink lips that you just wanted to-
You felt your cheeks redden and you knew you had to act fast. You reached forward, grabbing the frames from off his face.
“Are you ever embarrassed by the fact that your genes are so awful you have to wear glasses?” You mumbled, trying to hide your moment of weakness. You two were so close to one another that you could barely even hold his glasses up between the two of you without your knuckles brushing his chest. You raised his glasses to your face, sliding them up your nose.
You frowned.
“God your sight is awful. You reall-”
Before you could finish your sentence Wonwoo had grabbed your wrist and holy shit he was a lot stronger than you had imagined he would be.
He gestured towards your skirt, which barely even fell halfway past your thighs.
“Are you ever embarrassed to walk around like some sort of conceited slut?”
Your mouth dropped open, and you knew that you should be angry and push Wonwoo away and yell at him because you had both taken the same gender studies class and you knew that he knew better than to talk to anyone that way, and you knew that he was respectable to people of all genders, but instead you just stood there, shocked.
There was a tightness in the pit of your stomach, and your hand fell to your side, gripping at the edge of your desk. You struggled to find something to say back, and your hesitance made Wonwoo’s expression which, by the way, had turned to shock as soon as the words left his mouth, to confusion.
“Bist du dumm?” He mumbled, and the question went right over your head. You suddenly weren’t able to think about anything. He flicked your forehead lightly. “I said are you dumb? Don’t you know you’re supposed to argue it when someone says something derogatory like that to you?”
His voice was veiled a bit in concern. Like he was worried that people were walking around calling you a slut to your face and you weren’t saying anything about it.
… You certainly hoped that Wonwoo never found out about your book preferences. Maybe you should try and hide Haunting Adaline from your bookshelves on Goodreads.
“I was just caught off guard,” you mumbled. “I thought you were more intelligent than needing to resort to such derogatory terms.”
Bold-faced lie. Your face was red. Why were you growing so warm at the implication. Why were you thinking about the fact that nobody was ever in this corner of the library this late at night. Why were you thinking about the window that was right in front of you two looking out on the water fountain outside of the library? Why were you thinking about the absence of cameras on this floor? And most importantly why were you wondering what Wonwoo’s hands would be like with your skirt bunched into it?
You two stared at one another, and Wonwoo took a step closer (you were surprised that was even possible) his gaze becoming a bit sharper.
“Es gefällt dir…” You like it.
“Nein…” You mumbled back. Wonwoo’s hand came up to your chin, his thumb brushing it at first, making your chin tilt up a bit, encouraging the touch. When you did that Wonwoo clasped his fingers on your chin, holding it where you presumed, he wanted it.
“Yes, you do,” he said in awe. He leaned forward, his eyes flickering down to your lips.
“You look hot in my glasses,” he mumbled.
You made a noise that was not a response. 
His lips ghosted yours.
“Keep them on.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. At first, it was hesitant. He was a bit unsure of if he wanted to actually kiss you, or if you actually wanted to kiss him. That was a fair thought of him to have because you were unsure if you even wanted to kiss him, until his lips were on yours and then your arms were wrapping around him, the palm of your hand pressing on his neck so that he was forced closer to you.
One of Wonwoo’s hands came up to your hair, and he pulled you back by your ponytail. You hissed at the action, but the way that it sent a coil of heat through your body was enough to stop you from complaining.
“Ich will dich ficken,” Wonwoo mumbled, as your lips parted. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
“You want to…” You trailed off, your fingers balling into his shirt. You didn’t know that verb, you were sure your professor hadn’t covered it.
“Fuck.” Wonwoo twisted your body so that you were pressed against the edge of the desk, and his pelvis was pressed to yours. “I want to fuck you so bad.”
Your breath hitched in your throat.
“So? Are you going to be fucking good and let me take you?”
You were already nodding when the word good left his lips. So, when he finished the question, you were nodding rapidly.
“Yes,” you mumbled. “Oh god please take me Wonwoo.”
A smirk flickered across his lips.
“In German.”
Frustration bubbled up in your body…. Or was that arousal?
“Uh… Ja… ich will dich ficken… Too?”
That must have been good enough because the next thing you knew, Wonwoo’s lips were on yours again and he was hiking you up onto the desk, pushing your skirt up to your waist with ease.
“You don’t even have shorts under this,” he mumbled against your lips as his hand ran over your thigh. He slapped you there, hard. You yelped and your fingers tightened in his shirt. “Du bist ein Depp…" 
You vaguely registered he was calling you an idiot, but before you could respond he was sliding down your body, his fingers on your sides making you shiver despite being over your shirt. He got to his knees in front of you and took the hem of your underwear with his fingers.
“Let me get this off of you your highness,” he said mockingly. Your body grew even hotter, and you leaned back on your hands, lifting your legs a bit so he could easily pull your underwear off of you. You could feel a string of wetness drawing from your pussy as he pulled your underwear off and you wanted to hide your face in embarrassment at the truth of just how much Wonwoo had turned you on. You pressed your lips together tightly.
“God you’re fucking soaked,” Wonwoo mumbled. He slapped your thighs apart again, and you obediently spread them for him. “You want me to treat you like mein kleines Schwanzluder?”
You had no clue what he was saying, and your silence in response made him pinch your inner thigh. You bit down into your fist.
“Are you really that bad at German?” He asked you. “If you can’t even respond to a question as simple as, do you want me to treat you like my little cock slut than I don’t know how you are going to pass the final.”
“Ja,” you blurted, scrambling to drag any German you knew out of your mind. “Bitte.” Please. “Ich bin dein…” You hesitated on the last word. I am your…
“Schwanzluder,” Wonwoo said softly, his eyes focusing on you. “Cock slut.”
“Schwanzluder,” you repeated, your voice barely there. Wonwoo hummed.
“Bad pronunciation,” he mumbled. “But then again, you’re also bad at that.”
You went to protest him because you thought that your German pronunciation was pretty good, but then you thought of something better to argue with him about:
“Are you even going to be able to do anything down there?” You asked him tauntingly. “You probably wouldn’t be able to find a clit even with your glasses o-” Before you could finish, Wonwoo was shoving something wet and salty into your mouth, Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized you recognized the feeling of the cloth of your wet underwear from when you had done this to yourself while masturbating in the past. Your face burned in shame at the way that this only turned you on more.
“Halt die Schnauze…”
You didn’t have to know German to know that he was telling you to shut up.
Wonwoo’s hands pressed at the insides of your thighs, high enough that he was able to feel the dampness that had soaked through the thin cloth of your underwear. He massaged his thumbs into your thighs, and beneath the blurriness of Wonwoo’s glasses you could see him smile slightly. His hands slid further up your thighs and one of his thumbs prodded at your folds, dragging them to the side so that he could see your wet pussy even better.
“Fuck…” He mumbled. “You’re wet like a bitch in heat.”  You let your head fall back and hit the glass of the window behind your head. You couldn’t deny what he was saying, as badly as you wanted to. He had eyes, and even though his glasses weren’t on… He could certainly feel how wet you were beneath his fingers.
His thumb plunged into you suddenly, feeling thick and short as he delved inside of you. His fingers brushed your clit and you whined against the cloth in your mouth, your eyes falling shut. He pulled his thumb out of you after a few moments, seeming to be in thought, and then he was suddenly pressing two fingers at your entrance.
It was a lot… Especially for someone who had not been prepped, and he seemed to figure out with the way that the stretch felt around his fingers. He retracted and then pushed a single finger inside of you. The feeling was intoxicating. Even though you had felt yourself that you were not stretched enough for two you felt like you needed it.
It wasn’t long until you were begging for more as desperately as you could from behind your gag. Your fingers were gripping desperately at the desk, and it had Wonwoo chiding as he finally eased a second finger into you.
“Du bist erbärmlich…” He mumbled and you had no fucking clue what he had said but it sounded so hot with the little twinge of accent in his voice. You rolled your hips down onto his fingers, and the action made Wonwoo press a hand to your pelvis. “Hör auf.”
Again you whined, but your body stilled under his command. The pressure of him pushing down on you pushed his fingers even further inside of you and if you thought that was hard to handle, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like with his dick inside of you.
As if to read your thoughts, Wonwoo leaned forward, his hot breath teasing your clit.
“Oh Engel… I’m going to fucking destroy you,” he mumbled. He leaned forward, and he began to suck on your clit. His tongue flicking over it as a way to distract you as he stuffed a third finger into you.
The burn was amazing, and the distraction of his wet tongue on your clit was so welcoming that you about came just from that.
You had always wanted Wonwoo to just shut up. Thought that there was no use at all for his mouth.
But here he was… Proving that he had at least one very good use for his mouth. You tried to fight the urge to move under him, going as far as to slap the palm of your hand against the desk you were being eaten out on, but as soon as his mouth completely replaced his fingers, and you felt your wetness on your thigh, you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling down against him.
Somehow his hot mouth felt just as good as his fingers did, and they were making your core burn in a way that was fucking painful. You needed his cock in you right now.
Wonwoo moaned against your cunt- The first indicator that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, and he suddenly pulled away from you. His fingers dipped into you again but only briefly.
“Bend over,” Wonwoo murmured, twisting your body so that your ass was against his bare wet dick. You could feel it poking at your ass and you quickly bent over, placing the palms of your hands to the window.
“Not good enough,” Wonwoo mumbled. He pressed his hand to the small of your back, forcing your ass up more, and with his other hand his fingers knotted in your hair and he shoved your face into the window. “That’s better…”
He trailed off as he moved the hand not in your hair to (you assumed) take hold of his cock. You stayed there for seconds that felt like hours, skirt bunched around your waist, ass out for Wonwoo, your rival, and your face smashed up against the window just enough to see that there were people walking outside, presumably to their dorms.
Frustration began to bubble inside you, which expressed itself in small tears in the corners of your eyes.
“Ich möchte hören, wie Du darum bettelst.”
The german made you let out a sob of frustration as it was paired with Wonwoo sliding the tip of his cock between your soaked and already abused folds.
“Wonwoo, I don’t fucking know what you’re saying,” you cried out. You bucked your hips, trying to force his cock into you which worked except it didn’t because just his tip slipped inside of you.
God you felt like you were going to go feral at the feeling of his bare cock inside of you, you were already thinking about him pumping you full of cum…
“Guess you better figure out what I’m saying.”
Your mind raced, trying to figure out what Wonwoo could have possibly been telling you to do. You didn’t really recognize any of the words… Ich… I… hören… hear…? Will… want-
“Bitte, bitte, bitte,” you pleaded desperately. “I want your cock so badly… treat me like your own schwandluger or… Whatever it was- Please Wonwoo, I’m beggi-”
Before you could finish speaking Wonwoo was shoving himself into you. Your fists lightly hit the window at the feeling, so relieved to finally have him inside of you. You understood now why he had deemed only fingering you on three fingers as a punishment. You felt like you were being split open on his cock, and he had decided that he was going to go easy on you.
“You’re so small like this,” Wonwoo mumbled. “I mean look at you, unable to move under me… Someone you despise… How’s it feel to not only be physically overpowered but also to be intelligently inferior to me?”
Humiliation boiled through your veins, and each hard thrust of his cock sent him deeper into you than the time before.
“Genau so mag ich dich…” Wonwoo mumbled, a hint of admiration in his voice. He tugged you up by your hair, arching your back. His arm wrapped around your body, right under your breasts, pushing them up as he brought his face right up next to yours.
He stared at you, his eyes squinting as he took in your already fucked out expression. He watched you bounce for a few seconds, each thrust drawing out a loud and desperate cry from you. Then, finally, he leaned forward and kissed you again.
This kiss was just as hot and heavy as the way he was fucking you, and you really ended up just screaming out in his mouth with every single thrust.
“You may not be good at German, but you are damn good at taking my cock,” he hissed out. “So, it turns out you are useful.”
He suddenly pushed you back down onto the table, smashing your face onto the cold surface.
“So why don’t you be a good cumdump and take all of my cum?”
You hadn’t even realized how much the pressure of needing to come had been building up in you until you felt the first warm spurt of cum fill your cunt.
There were a million reasons why you shouldn’t be excited by the fact that not only was Wonwoo fucking you raw but he was coming inside of you but all you could remember was how hot Wonwoo sounded when he was speaking to you in German, and how much you liked him controlling you as you began to come as well.
Your whole body shook as Wonwoo fucked you full of his cum, and he continued to fuck you until your body had stopped shaking. His fingers released in your hair, and the sound of both of you panting filled the air. You two were completely still for minutes that felt like hours, before finally you peeled yourself off the table.
You stared at Wonwoo, who was staring right back at you.
“Take your fucking glasses back,” you mumbled. He smiled at you, dragging them off of your face.
“Happily,” he replied. He ran his fingers through his hair, and he almost looked completely the same as he had when he first started to fuck you. “You know what the best part about this is?”
You stared at Wonwoo, the humiliation burning on your face.
“What is the best part?” You asked him, your voice low.
“You have barely studied,” he said, and his voice was heightened in amusement. “Good luck on the test tomorrow.”
His eyes swept over your body, clearly noting the fact that you were in no shape to study anymore. He gestured towards his phone- the time- reminding you that your class was so early that you wouldn’t even be able to study before it if you went to bed now.
Your mind raced with the implications.
“Get home safely y/n,” Wonwoo said, his voice light. You went to protest, but before you could he had pushed his fingers deep inside of you. Your fingers clutched the desk, immediately remembering who had been fucking you not long before. Who you had been begging to dominate you just moments ago.
He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked them into his mouth with a smile.
“Maybe we’ll do this again.”
And then he was gone. Your blood was boiling, from satisfaction, humiliation, and pure anger at Wonwoo for having fucked you so that you would do bad on the test tomorrow, but one thing proved true between all of it. For him to think about fucking you to sabotage you, there had to be an initial wish to fuck you to begin with.
And if that were the case then… Well, you could certainly use this to your advantage…
May the games begin.
-
Taglist:
@starlight-night0, @alltheshineofthestars-blog, @park-hera-gi, @melodicrabbit, @jeanjacketjesus, @sparklyshuji, @woo8hao, @toruro, @wonudazed, @kkakkameori
(you can join my taglist here)
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astroninaaa · 2 months
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wtf is going on with cellbit - by a brazilian law major student
hey besties ever since the day cellbit released that PDF i’ve been keeping up with his shit bc as a law student (only two years to go!!!!) in brazil it’s kinda really interesting to see how it goes, specially since i don’t think we’ve ever had this sort of judicial action taken by an internet celebrity, like, ever. so i’ve decided to kinda explain what’s going on. if anyone has any questions after this i’d be really up to talk about it i love talking about law 🫶 xoxo let’s start. also sorry if anything reads weird english is not my native language okay
for those who don’t know, very recently, a judicial action taken by cellbit has made public. in this action, he’s suing over 200 people for the crime of defamation.
the action was taken to court in january, but it was under what we call “secret of justice”, which means only cellbit himself and twitter’s lawyers had access to it. now that there have been decisions by the judge and everything, the process’s been made public.
basically, cellbit started an action against twitter (NOT THE PEOPLE WHO COMMITTED THE CRIME YET), citing a little over 200 tweets that accused him of crimes like SA, psychological abuse, pedophilia, and others. all of those are real crimes in brazil — and accusing someone of committing crimes (specially as awful crimes as those) without proof is a crime in itself (defamation). he claimed that the tweets were harmful to his honor, mental health, and reputation, besides categorizing as defamation, since there’s no investigation going on against him for all these infractions he’s being accused of.
with that, he asked twitter to delete all the tweets, and to provide him with the personal information of said twitter accounts so he can sue them directly for defamation. he did these requests through something called “tutela cautelar”, which means the judge gets to decide whether or not twitter has to do these things before proof production and proper investigation, since, if twitter doesn’t do those things, the damage to his honor and reputation will be ongoing + he won’t be able to sue the proper people in time.
the judge conceded to his requests, and twitter has already deleted all the tweets. the main discussion going right now is wtf do they do about the international accounts — does our law apply to them? what’s gonna happen? we don’t know yet. that’s being discussed in court for the moment and, considering brazilian courts, it might take quite a while.
so, yeah, all those people aren’t being sued YET. but they will, probably somewhat soon.
it’s also important to mention that this lawsuit is from january and was only now released to the public. there’s probably a lot more coming after the whole fiasco that led him to releasing his statement, including a lawsuit against his ex herself.
now, other topics — could he sue other twitter accounts for cyber bullying or death threats? probably, but my personal opinion is that suing for defamation and focusing on accounts that were accusing him of having committed crimes was a much better move because it’s a much stronger case.
there’s very little room for discussion when a person has outright said “cellbit committed this crime”. death threats have more room for discussion: “oh, but they’re hundreds of miles away, it wasn’t a serious threat”, “they didn’t mean it”, “it was a joke”. same thing goes for cyberbullying: it can get too subjective.
defamation isn’t subjective. you accuse someone of a crime they didn’t commit? boom, defamation, at least according to our laws. so, to me, personally, it makes a LOT of sense for his lawyers to focus on that: he’s a LOT more likely to win than if he was suing for cyberbullying, threatening, insult, or any of that. also, he’s a lot more likely to win FASTER.
when he gets to sue the actual people who committed the crime, that is. for now, he’s only requested twitter to give him the necessary information to get to these people, which i think they’ll very likely be obligated to do. there are digital data protection laws in brazil, but a crime is a crime. digital data protection isn’t gonna protect you from the court.
another thing: LGPD (brazil’s general law of personal data protection) forces all social media companies to keep records of all the content posted by their users for AT LEAST six months. many companies keep it for way longer. that’s a law created for judicial purposes, in case something published to twitter, facebook, or instagram needs to be analysed by a court. that’s why even tho twitter has deleted the tweets, they still have them, and why it doesn’t matter if the people responsible are deleting the tweets, the accounts, the fucking app itself. the records are still there, and they will be used judicially.
i think that’s the overall for the situation, but i’m willing to answer any questions and to discuss it if anyone wants to! i’m a big law enjoyer. also personally i think cellbit is so fucking right for this like YEAH people don’t get to commit fucking crimes on twitter and get away with it. really interested in how this is gonna go law-wise, but in general also really glad to see someone take action like this.
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undeniqble · 2 years
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wtf graduating tomorrow gonna be a bitch w a degree!! 
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.
Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!
Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it
Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.
Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.
They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.
Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.
Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.
A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.
"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"
This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.
Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.
"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."
The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."
Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"
This means, "We will meet the double tonight."
The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.
They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)
They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.
They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.
"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.
"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.
"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"
"You be surprised......."
Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.
There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.
Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.
"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.
"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."
"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.
He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.
"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"
"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.
Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.
"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.
"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."
Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."
Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"
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hotvintagepoll · 7 days
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Propaganda
Sophia Loren (Marriage Italian Style, Houseboat)—Major Italian star, first actress to win an Oscar for a performance not in English (for Two Women (1960)) and later when Roberto Benigni won an Oscar in 1999 he jumped over the chairs towards the stage going "Sophia Sophia!!" because he was running towards Sophia Loren and said he cared more about her than the Oscar, that's the effect she had on people. She was big in the 60s already even though she gained a lot more notoriety after that. And I mean. Can we take a moment and just.
Pola Negri (The Wildcat, Men, A Woman Commands)—Legally obliged to submit her as she's from Poland, but also it is one of the greatest stars of silent film, both in Hollywood and Europe, so she has to be here. The og femme fatale and a fenomenal dramatic actress. And just so hot in this 1920s vamp style. Obviously her career slowed down in America with the introduction of sound movies, because of her accent and low voice. I'd say her voice is so much hotter thanks to that, but I'm just a simple simp. But then she made movies in Germany, and after the war she was even offered Gloria Swanson's role in "Sunset Boulevard'' but she declined. She was probably bisexual as after romances with Charlie Chaplin and Rudolf Valentino in the 20s, since the 1940s she lived with her 'female friend'.
This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Sophia Loren:
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She has maxed out all her stats: beauty, elegance, sensuality, she's got it all. her mesmerizing eyes, her sensual mouth, her sharp face shape, her everything is so striking and unlike any other beauty in films. she was also voted the world most beautiful woman when she was freaking 65
im submitting her in honor of my dad bc she was the first celebrity crush of his he ever admitted to me and my sister :) and he was right. shes so pretty
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OSCAR WINNER. Worked with some of the hottest leading men in Hollywood but remained faithful to her husband whom she had a loving marriage with till he died (even though Cary Grant almost tempted her once, it's complicated)
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One of the most well-known sex symbols of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and unlike some unfortunate others, she seems to have been pretty well at peace with occupying that status. She made assertiveness and a tempestuous temper seem glamorous, and although she's famous for side-eying Jayne Manisfield's cleavage, honestly? She's one to talk.
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Absolutely, drop-dead sexy, also a hard working, extraordinarily talented actress who didn't shy away from the less glamorous roles to gift us some gritty, memorable performances
Submitting this on behalf of my dad, who knows nothing of tumblr or this blog, but I remember being a kid watching Houseboat while my mom thirsted after Cary Grant, dad thirsted after Sophia Loren, and I was excited that they lived on a boat. Anyway, she's extremely beautiful and was an international star, doing a ton of movies in Italy before being recognized in the US.
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JUST LOOK AT HER Y'ALL
Very smart and beautiful, the characters that she played (I mean those in the movies that I put in the previous question) are as strong and determined as her which I think adds to her hotness.
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Global superstar and my late grandfather's long time movie star crush and for a man as quiet as he was, and as hopelessly devoted to his wife as he was, the fact that I know that means she was EXCEPTIONAL.
Big in the chest, snatched in the waist, pretty in the face 😳
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Sexy, beautiful, deep. A real star.
Her performance in "Man of La Mancha" is just so very captivating. Dubbed as "the Italian Marilyn Monroe", she looks beautiful in any movie and at any age.
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Forget the exotic sexpot of her Hollywood films and go back to her Italian career: sparking with Marcello Mastroianni as the woman who drives him mad and outwits all his fumbling attempts at macho posturing in their early films, and showing a tender side in their 1970s films. Sophia isn’t self-conscious about who she is or her beautiful body: she enjoys being herself and she wants us all to enjoy ourselves too.
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She starred in films as a sexually emancipated persona and was one of the best known sex symbols of the time. She is a great cook and her filmography is immense.
On the misattributed quote that Sophia owed everything to spaghetti: 'Did you actually say the quote frequently attributed to you, "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti"?' "Non è vero! It's not true! It's such a silly thing. I owe it to spaghetti, no, no. Completely made up."
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Pola Negri:
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A tempestuous green-eyed vamp of the silent screen, she tantalized with both her onscreen and offscreen romances. Rocked a Polish accent - well, once there was sound! A true proficient at promoting herself and using all possible tools to do so - from a dead Rudolf Valentino to a cheetah named Teddy, the latter of which she brought to a press conference.
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First European actress to be contracted by Hollywood! She survived poverty and illness to become The Queen of Tragedy, she divorced a count to date stars like Charlie Chaplin and Rudolph Valentino, then spent the rest of her life living with Margaret West in what could have been a romantic relationship.
I don't have much to say about her actual career, personal life, etc. but I just need everyone to see how hauntingly beautiful her face is. I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since the first time I saw her LOL like its pretty clear why she was such a star
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communistchilchuck · 19 days
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Laila reached out to me to help share her fundraiser. She is a 22-year-old Palestinian architecture student urgently raising money to evacuate Gaza and continue her education in Cairo. She has only raised €2,489 out of her €35,000 goal so far! Please donate, and if you can’t donate, please share!
From Laila’s GFM:
My name is Laila Auda. I’m writing to you while my heart is heavy, my tears are pouring down out of fear and despair. My only shimmer of hope to achieve my dream of being an Architect relies on you.
I’m 22-year-old dreamer and 178 days genocide survivor. I’ve endured unimaginable hardships including four major aggressions and countless military escalations. I’m still reluctant to believe that I’m reliving the 177th day of the fifth war in my prime years. Not only have these wars destroyed my dreams, but they have also deepened my trauma and depression.
In 2018, I was granted the opportunity of a lifetime through the ACCESS Micro scholarship Program funded by the US Department of State for 2 years English learning.
In 2020 I graduated from Arafat for gifted high school with honor degree 94.4%. And I was granted to a scholarship for 2 years in EL-UNRWA College pursuing my dream of being an Architect. In addition of finishing 3 external courses of software's used in architecture beside the college. I’ve put immense amount of pressure on my back to fulfill my dreams in my early twenties, having a message of being an inspiring soul of success. I was already in my small circle as three of my siblings want to be architects too! They see how I stay up all night making study models.
Now I’m a third-year architecture student completing my bachelor's degree in the Islamic University of Gaza (IUG). The dream of completing my bachelor's degree in my homeland became almost impossible after the IOF bombed all the buildings of my university and amidst the terrifying conditions we endure daily being stripped of every human right imaginable.
I’m sure you’re aware of the situation we have been living. My words are laconic, but my pain is profound and my mental health has been irreversibly damaged due the state of war. Switching from a person who’s addicted to learning to a person who is thinking of how can I escape death. My dream is completing my bachelor's degree in Cairo university, come back to my homeland and be an active architect in the rebuilding programs.
My target is to raise 35000€, which will be allocated as follows:
(1500$) university registration fees.
( 5000$ ) education fees per year (*4 years > 20000$) as I’ll lose 1 one more year with the courses equivalence due to the difference between the plans.
for life expenses as student for 4 years. ( 10000$ )
Add to that 2.9% GoFundMe would take and the fees on money transfer the bank would take.
The overall sum amount is approximately 35000€ considering the bank my cousin- who's launching this campaign- is engaged which operates in Belgian currency.
Your support could mean the difference between dreams realized and dreams shattered. Together we can make a difference. Together we can ensure that the voices of those trapped in conflict zones are heard, and their dreams are not forgotten.
I love studying and I dream of a life where I can breathe giving. I want to help people to rebuild their homes thinking with them of every detail. I want to see people’s happiness by creating spaces that lies warmth within their souls..
I’m truly grateful for your time, consideration, and support. Your generosity will make a lasting impact in my life, illuminate the path toward a brighter and more hopeful chapter.
Every contribution, no matter the size it will be a step forward achieving my dream
If you would like to confirm the validity of this campaign, you can message Laila on X
Username: Laila_EYO
With gratitude
Laila Auda
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You want my jacket?
John Egan X W.A.C! Reader
Summary: Y/n wants Bucky's jacket, but they have a little competition before...
Warning: Swearing/ sport inaccuracies (Wikipedia stats)/ use of Y/n/ flirting/ mention of erection/ kiss/ sexism (little bit)
Word count: 1.1k
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The music was loud, Y/n and her friends made their way through the room, it was a party in their honor, and someone’s 25th mission. The W.A.C division Y/n was in just got transferred to Thorpe Abbotts. Y/n was a weather broadcaster, she was going to brief the men on the conditions they were going to fly. She liked her job, sure it was boring sometimes, but she got the insight on big mission and her job was important. She felt like she was truly having an impact on the war, not a big one, but still.
When John Egan learned that W.A.C were coming on the base, he was like every man on the base; excited. Unlike Buck, he didn’t have anyone to write to at home, he was single and loved woman! When his eyes stopped on Y/n, he knew that he needed to talk to her. Her uniform fitted her so good; her curves were highlighted, and he always loved woman with curves. So, when he walked up to her, he was a little nervous, but he tried to hide it.
‘’Hello ladies’’ he said, looking at all the woman, then he looked at the one he wanted. ‘’Hi, I’m Major John Egan, but please call me Bucky, what’s your name, gorgeous?’’ he flirted. Y/n blushed and hid a giggle. ‘’I’m Y/n, nice to meet you’’ she extends her hand for him to take. The other girls were a giggling mess. When Bucky took her hand, she felt something pass through them, maybe she was just nervous, but it felt weird. They went to sit at a table and Bucky ordered drinks. ‘’So, Y/n, what are you doing here?’’ he asked, looking at her. ‘’I’m the new weather broadcaster, so we’re going to see each other a lot’’ she flirted. Words of his reputation had got to Y/n’s ears, when the Colonel briefed them on the attitude of the men at the base, the woman were warned about Major Egan. Y/n was curious to see if his reputation was true. ‘’You’ll be Miss Sunshine?’’ he asked, with a grin on his face. ‘’Exactly, but with this English weather, I’ll be Miss Cloud, Rain and Fog’’ she joked. He laughed at her joke, he always thought English weather was shit. ‘’Maybe your presence will bring more sun over the base’’ he took a sip of his drink. Y/n tilted her head, before taking a sip of her drink.
‘’I highly doubt that, but hey I’ll probably die of cold, you on the other hand, you’re going to be okay with that beautiful jacket’’ she smiled. He looked at his jacket, then looked at her. ‘’You like my jacket?’’ he asked, with a crooked eyebrow. She nodded as she finished her drink. ‘’Yeah, they didn’t give us any jacket, they didn’t have the money for us’’ she chuckles. A wicked idea came to her mind, she was a fan of baseball, so was he… ‘’Okay, what about a quiz, on the subject of your choice, if I win, I get your jacket, if you win, what do you want if you win?’’ she says. ‘’I want a kiss’’ he grins. ‘’Then if you win, you’ll get your kiss. You in?’’ she asked. He nodded and called Curt, he was a fan of baseball and knew the Yankees. ‘’I’m on, and by the way, I hope your baseball knowledge is good, you know the Yankees, sunshine?’’ he teased. He was 100% sure he was going to win; nobody knew baseball as good as him, but that’s what he thought. Y/n was grinning like a devil, she was getting that jacket!
‘’Ok, last question since you’re both equal in points, Spud Chandler broke the record for what this season?’’ Curt asked. Y/n thought for a second and then took the apple, it was their buzzer. ‘’Y/n?’’ the room went silent; money was changing hands around the bar. Their little competition was the main entertainement right now, soldiers couldn’t believe that someone knew baseball better than Bucky. ‘’ Lowest earned run average in a season’’ she said, smiling. Curt pushed his tongue on his cheek before looking at other guys. ‘’That’s right, you officially win!’’ He exclaimed, making the woman and some guy’s cheer for her. Bucky’s jaw was on the floor, that woman knew baseball, was supporting the Yankees and she just beat him. Now he had to give her his jacket! Bucky looked at the woman, she was smiling proudly. He smiled as he shook his head. He went closer to her. ‘’Let’s get out of here, sunshine’’ he said, she nodded, and they went outside.
‘’How come you know that much about baseball?’’ he asked. They started to walk around the base. ‘’Weather girl wasn’t my original plan, I wanted to be a sport reporter, but because I’m a woman, it’s impossible, but I know a lot about sports’’ she explained. He thought he was dreaming; this woman was surreal. ‘’That was really impressive, even though you beat me, it was amazing’’ he said, he truly meant it, he was in awe before her. ‘’Thank you, but I think you owe me something’’ she grins. Bucky rolls his eyes before taking his precious jacket off. ‘’Take care of it’’ he said, before giving it to her. ‘’Can you help me put it on?’’ she asked. Her back was facing him, he helped her put the jacket on, smelling her perfume properly for the first time. She smelled good, too good, it was going to be stuck in his mind now. Seeing her in his jacket kina turned him on, he didn’t know why, but it was a problem. ‘’Thank you, Major’’ she smiled proudly. ‘’I wish I could say it's my pleasure, but that would be a lie’’ he said, laughing to hide his pain. Y/n giggled as they continued their walk.
‘’That’s me, I have to go to bed early. I’m waking up at 0500 tomorrow I have to do my job’’ she smiles. Bucky nods quickly, expecting her to walk to her building, but she stays in front of him. ‘’Since we were equal, it’s only fair that you get your part of the bet’’ she says. Before he could process what she meant she quickly kiss him on the lips. By the time he acknowledges what just happened, she’s already at the door. ‘’Good night, Bucky, thanks for the jacket’’ she says, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips. ‘’Good night sunshine’’ he said. She blew him a kiss before entering the building, with his jacket on her. Yep, his problem was definitely growing more…
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flagbridge · 5 months
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The Raoul (de Chagny) Navy: An Exploration of the Vicomte's Naval Background:
Our beloved Vicomte, Raoul de Chagny, is a young junior officer in the French Navy ("le Royale"), but this hardly gets much exploration. It's a detail that is often glossed over--I anticipate because Naval historians and Phans often do not have much Venn diagram overlap--until now. Let's just say my username is a Naval reference.
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Note: the "Raoul Navy" is not my invention--our hilarious and wise "Phantom Dark Web" friends at Leroux Less Traveled (incl. @box5intern) came up with it, and I love it.
I've started digging into book Raoul and his Naval background and turns out we are missing out a whole lot about Raoul's character background if we don't dig into it. So I'm going to tell you what the book tells us and what that means. I'm going to give you the overall pieces up front, and then explain:
Raoul looks very young and feminine (except for his "little" mustache, which he effectively has grown to prove that he can)--and everyone treats him like a baby
Raoul at this point has already completed three years of Naval training including a world tour, so he is fairly experienced and even worldly for his age. He is described in the French as a "cadet", but he would likely be a sub-lieutenant at this point since he has graduated from the Naval Academy.
He's on a six month leave before going on a very dangerous mission to recover remains of a lost Arctic mission--a mission he himself is unlikely to return from.
And everyone still treats him like he's a baby (especially the old dowager widows), even though he has had quite a bit of life at this point--so he has something to prove.
What we know about Raoul and the Navy (Here is the English):
"He was admirably assisted in this work first by his sisters and afterward by an old aunt, the widow of a naval officer, who lived at Brest and gave young Raoul a taste for the sea. The lad entered the Borda training-ship, finished his course with honors and quietly made his trip round the world. Thanks to powerful influence, he had just been appointed a member of the official expedition on board the Requin, which was to be sent to the Arctic Circle in search of the survivors of the D'Artois expedition, of whom nothing had been heard for three years. Meanwhile, he was enjoying a long furlough which would not be over for six months; and already the dowagers of the Faubourg Saint-Germain were pitying the handsome and apparently delicate stripling for the hard work in store for him."
We also learn in another paragraph that the de Chagnys had admiral in the family, so the Naval connection is likely a family business for second sons. Raoul is a second son, so a career as a military officer would have been a distinguished career for him.
Borda: First ship
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Brest is the main port of the French Navy and home of the Ecole Navale (or French Naval Academy. In the 20th Century it moved, but Brest is still, along with Toulon, a major naval base)
According to the French: Le jeune homme entra au Borda, en sortit dans les premiers numéros et accomplit tranquillement son tour du monde (Note that the French calls him a "young man", not a lad)
The Borda is traditionally the training ship of the French Navy, and there have been six of them. This would have been a cadet/midshipman cruise for Raoul. He would have been on the ex-Valmy, an 120-gun ship of the line, which became the Borda training ship in 1864.
The Borda is also the ship of the Ecole Navale (French Naval Academy)—this means that Raoul attended the academy.
The Naval Academy is two years in Brest, and then their third year is the World Tour—so that timing also aligns with where we are in the book. Raoul would have begun at the academy at 18, and he is at the start of the book, 21 years old.
After the Borda, which he completed with honors, he did an uneventful world tour.
This would have been his third year, still as a midshipman.
He could have been assigned to any ship for this training cruise—possibly a cruiser (the d'Estang is pictured below in 1884 in Algiers), which did long range missions. Note: Their max speed was about 15 Knots (which is a very respectable speed that some warships still transit).
This world tour cold have been as far east as what is now Vietnam, or through the Suez--but likely near French colonies.
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With influence, he is assigned to the Requin expedition.
French: Grâce à de puissants appuis, il venait d'être désigné pour faire partie de l'exp��dition officielle du Requin, qui avait mission de rechercher dans les glaces du pôle les survivants de l'expédition du d'Artois, dont on n'avait pas de nouvelles depuis trois ans.
The Requin was a real ship in the Mediterranean fleet, but did not go on its first mission until 1885, which means that this is a deliberate or unintentional oversight of either Leroux himself or his narrator. The Requin was a steel hull—and the Artois was actually a 18th century Royal Navy ship so this piece is a complete fabrication. However, Arctic missions at this time were frequent and tended not to go well.
However, Raoul could also be excited about getting to go on a new steel-hulled ship. The Redoutable was already in commission—commissioned in 1876.  Most of the rest of the fleet at this point were ironclads.
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pallases · 1 year
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i miss my honors sequence from last year :/
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ijustmissyouraccenths · 12 hours
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The Alchemy
AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.
Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift
CW: Smut
Word Count: 6,871
Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.
It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.
Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.
Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.
Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows. 
Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."
I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye. 
"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script." 
Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."
As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.
"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."
Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."
I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."
She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."
Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.
"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.
As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.
Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me. 
I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength. 
I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore. 
Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.
Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head. 
For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer. 
That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.
As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.
"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."
I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.
But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."
Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.
The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.
Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.
"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."
I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response. 
"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt. 
Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement. 
"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"
His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state. 
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased. 
I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt. 
Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.
"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality. 
"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class. 
My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.
I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.
I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:
"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H
I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.
I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.
I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.
After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.
I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.
Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.
I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.
His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.
I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.
The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.
I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.
Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.
As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.
By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.
Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.
I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous. 
"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy. 
Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked. 
I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me. 
"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously. 
Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.
I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly. 
Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.
Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me. 
I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field. 
As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.
At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return. 
In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.
As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.
"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.
"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.
"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.
Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game. 
I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights. 
"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly. 
I tilted my head. "Why's that?"
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."
Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions. 
"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly. 
Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...
But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise. 
Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out." 
He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.
As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.
I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.
A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.
As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.
Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."
I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."
Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."
He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.
"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."
I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."
Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."
We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.
I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.
Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.
The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.
Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. 
His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore. 
"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.
Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.
"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.
My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.
Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.
Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.
Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”
As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.
Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.
"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."
He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.
I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.
"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.
Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.
"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .
"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me. 
My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.
"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts. 
I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.
My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."
"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.
My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.
"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."
I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.
My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.
And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.
He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.
But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened. 
As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."
I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate. 
"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."
He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.
"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.
As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.
We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.
"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.
I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.
"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.
I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.
"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.
I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."
He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.
My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.
"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.
A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.
Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.
Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.
As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.
The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.
Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.
His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.
The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.
I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.
Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.
One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.
I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.
Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.
He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.
Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.
"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.
"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."
Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.
“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.
“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”
The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.
I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.
He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.
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