#admission SOP
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edwisefoundation · 2 months ago
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Statement of Purpose (SOP) for Study Abroad: How to Write an Impressive SOP
A Statement of Purpose (SOP) is a crucial part of the application process for studying abroad. It provides admissions committees with insight into your academic background, goals, and personal motivations beyond your grades and test scores. A well-written SOP can significantly enhance your chances of acceptance by showcasing your unique qualities and passion for your chosen field. The essay should also address why you are interested in studying abroad and how you plan to contribute to the institution.
For more details on how to craft a compelling SOP, visit Statement of Purpose for Study Abroad.
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fazeruined · 1 year ago
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@classico-fazbear
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It's been a few weeks since there wasn't anything worth cropping into the scrapbook from the newspapers. No more news articles, or updates, or even mentions. It was like nothing had ever happened, quickly out of people's minds in favor of menial things like fuel prices, gossips regarding celebrities, potentially hazardous weather forecasts, soccer scores...
Of course, of course the damned police would give up as soon as they could without getting publicly reprimanded, the public itself soon to follow. She more or less knew this would happen, but it still feels like rubbing salt over an open wound.
"Gretel" felt the printed paper crumple and tear under her hands as they began clenching into fists.
With a displeased groan, she ultimately crumples the entire newspaper into a large ball and disposes of it into the first public garbage can she passed by; the person whose newspaper she snatched off from their porch early in the morning will live.
Adjusting the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder, she marches onward on her steps, without looking back. If no one cares enough to do justice, then she'll do it with her own hands.
She just has to keep caring, to keep looking. Unlike everyone else. Can't trust adults to do anything right.
... It was a little later in the day by the time Gretel found herself walking into what appears to be the outskirts of somewhere. The sky had become cloudier and raindrops had begun to fall since a little while back, but she persevered, especially after having been given some tasty bread by a nice old lady as thanks for helping with her groceries earlier.
That was nice. But better not think how that had been her meal for the entire day so far. Still, it won't be a little rain that will take her down, even though it doesn't feel great to be soaked.
Though as time progressed, and she looked out, she could see the sky slowly changing; Grayer, with darker and 'heavier'-looking clouds. Thicker, heavier rain hit at roofs and windows (and her,) wind picking up, ominous rumbles could be heard sounding from far out.
Admittedly, it didn't feel good to have wind breaking past her when her clothes are wet. It's so freaking cold.
The forming storm made the day darker than it was, street lights starting to switch on. People started to filter out of the streets, establishments and houses closing their doors. But she remained, stubbornly so (and because she didn't really have much of a choice.) Again, it won't be a little rain that will take her down...
Soon, thunder was tearing out through the darkened sky; a lightning bolt struck a power post, so close by that the lights were knocked out, and one could feel the vibration shaking through the air.
... but getting struck by lightning might.
Yeah, no. This is BAD. It's definitely the type of bad weather that's considered unsafe to be outdoors. Especially an unsupervised, soaked little kid. No wonder the newspaper forecast said 'hazardous;' maybe she should have paid more attention to it...
Forced by circumstances to make haste through the pooling streets, Gretel found herself desperate for shelter, with none available in the vicinity.
Until she spotted a large, industrial-looking, abandoned building.
It's no 'spa,' but it'll have to do-- lest she wants to remain out in the open storm and run the risk of potentially getting zapped to a crisp.
The way in looks rusty, heavy and hard for her to open, but after some struggling, she manages to climb in through a broken window nearby. It was nice, being tucked somewhere kind of dry and would shelter her from possibly getting smitten by Zeus, finally... but she was legit sopping wet, her drenched clothes almost ice cold sticking to her.
Her aim is to wait by until the storm passes, but given how it's getting rather late, and how dark it's getting now, and how ferocious the storm looks, chances are she will be stuck till next day at best.
So, after squeezing water off her hair and clothes until she's sopping wet a little bit less, she chooses to wander in, maybe find a spot she can settle in until tomorrow, assuming the weather will be better by then. Wherever she went, kid-sized wet footprints were left behind by her shoes.
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000png · 1 year ago
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writing personal statements for grad apps is killing me... i should be allowed to just post screenshots of my top 5 tumblr text posts and call it a day
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grplindia · 2 years ago
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https://sopwrite.com/index.php/blogs/
SOP writing for MBA ADMISSION Program
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content-euphoria · 1 year ago
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Things That Undergraduate SOPs Should Include to Get Selected
Writing a strong sop for undergraduate necessitates a well-organized document that emphasizes the applicant's motivation, educational background, areas of interest in research, and contributions to the university. Vital details consist of:
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Personal background and introduction.
Academic journey and field of study passion.
Career goals and motivations.
Relevant experiences.
Demonstrated contributions to the academic and social community.
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sweiming · 2 years ago
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The UK has a valued nursing educational system that provides nurses with the best instruction and training available. There are several methods to become a medical professional in the UK, including apprenticeships and degree-level training. If you choose to pursue a degree-level education, you can study nursing at the undergraduate or graduate level. Postgraduate nursing programs are frequently finished in one to two years, but undergraduate nursing programs typically span three to four years.
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sopwriting · 2 years ago
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Best SOP Writing Services in Delhi for Winning Admissions | Expert Help
Are you looking for the best SOP writing services in Delhi to help you create a compelling statement of purpose for your university application? Look no further! 
Our team of expert SOP writers provides top-rated services to help you stand out and win admission to your dream university. 
We understand the importance of a well-crafted SOP and ensure that your document showcases your strengths and unique qualities in a concise and compelling manner. 
Contact us now to avail yourself of our expert help and increase your chances of securing admission to your desired university.
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contentholic · 2 years ago
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Top SOP Writing Services in Delhi for Winning Admissions | Expert Help
Looking for the best SOP writing services in Delhi to create a compelling statement of purpose? Get expert help from top-rated SOP writers to stand out from the competition and win admission to your dream university. Contact us now!
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topbschoolsapplications · 2 years ago
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Top MBA Consultants In India
If you are looking for the best MBA admission consultants in India, look no further than General Education MBA or GenEdMBA (https://www.genedmba.com). We provide personalised MBA consulting services that includes Profiling, BSchool selection, writing & editing personal essays, advising on recommendations, MBA interview tips for admission, etc. General Education provides the best MBA consultants for business school admission applications. We have helped over 4,000 candidates since 2007 get to top Bschools like Harvard, Kellogg, Wharton, Cornell, HEC Paris, LBA, etc.
You can use our incredible tools, such as the B school selector, admission chances, and GMAT diagnostic tool, to evaluate your profile for top B schools.
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thewalkingdilf · 5 months ago
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OKAYYY i’ve had this idea of a perv! daryl x shy, inexperienced reader that i just cannot get out of my head.
18+ mdni, poorly written smut, not proofread, perv!daryl, large age gap (reader is early 20s), loss of innocence
this is a drabble-ish. not a completely finished work, this is more of just an idea that popped into my mind that i may create a larger work for later.
your heart is absolutely racing as daryl’s darkened eyes stare you down like you’re his prey, nothing but an easy target. he’s above you on the bed, a large hand on each side of your head, holding his weight above you. you felt trapped in the best possible way. your head felt fuzzy and your pussy was aching with desire. he knew you were a virgin, innocent and as physically pure as could be. It’s not like you hadn’t wanted to do these things before, you’d just never had the opportunity to while living in your strict, religious home. besides, you hadn’t even found anyone you had taken that strong of a liking to, no one worth throwing your innocence away for; not until daryl, anyway.
there was just something about him that you were so intrigued by that you just couldn’t quite place your finger on. maybe it was his age— how much older and stronger he was than you— or maybe it was his rough, manly, and intimidating exterior. regardless, you had never had anyone make you feel like this before.
daryl, on the other hand, couldn’t help but be attracted to your innocence; you were so different from him, and in a world like this, he needed that, almost just as much as he needed to mold you into a perfect little toy for him like he had been fantasizing about since he’d met you.
“daryl,” you cry out pathetically as one of his hands come down to touch your sopping wet pussy for the first time, causing a fire to burn within your core. He felt his jeans tighten; your reaction to the slightest touch was already on the verge of being over the top. i mean, he barely touched you and you were practically drooling for him just like your aching cunt was. how in the hell were you going to handle his fingers, let alone his cock?
“sorry,” you mutter, embarrassed of your intense reaction, “i’ve just never done anything… ya’ know, like this before…” your soft voice trailed off, your big doe eyes staring up at him, “feels really good.”
daryl smirks, collecting your slick on his fingers, moving up to rub tiny circles on your puffy clit, “nothin’ at all? surely ya touch yourself, right darlin?” he questioned, pausing all movement, awaiting your response.
a deep blush covered your already hot cheeks at the admission of your already obvious innocence to the older man, “well, i mean, i tried before, but i dunno how to do it, it just felt weird. couldn’t make it feel good so i gave up.”
fuck. you were more innocent than he thought. not only are you a virgin, you’d never even came before? he was going to have so much fun with you.
“holy shit,” daryl muttered, “pretty thing like you has never felt an orgasm?”
“…no.”
his cock strained against his jeans so hard he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars for a moment. the last remaining traces of his once icy-blue orbs disappeared, deep black taking over as he gazed down at you, like a predator hunting his prey, hovering above you in a straddle, one knee between your legs, the other on the opposing side. “fuck, sunshine, you’re gon love this. promise.”
daryl’s finger returned to your clit, working itself in circles a bit faster than before, the new sensation causing you to arch your back and whine, your pussy clenching around nothing, causing a string of your arousal to drip down your plush thigh.
“ahh, fuck! fuck daryl, pleaseeee.”
“please what?” he teased, continuing his pace, watching you completely fall apart beneath him.
please what? that was a great question, you had no idea what you were begging for, you just knew that whatever he was doing was way too good for him to stop now.
a large, calloused hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet daryl’s lust-blown eyes, “i said please what? don’t ya’ wanna be a good doll and answer me so i can help ya’ out? c’mon pretty girl, just tell me whatcha need and i’ll take care’a you.”
“i-i dunno… i-” you felt embarrassed out of nowhere, like the feeling had just popped out of thin air. you cover your face with your arms, a bright pink wave creeping along your cheeks once again, spreading to the tips of your ears. you knew nothing about this, didn’t know what you wanted, what to ask for— you just knew you needed daryl to keep doing whatever it was that was making you feel so fucking good.
you felt the strength of daryl’s large arms gripping your dainty wrists, pushing them away from your face and onto the bed, holding them there with a force you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from.
“ah, ah, ah, c’mon now, sunshine. keep those hands away from that pretty face of yers. you know i wanna see all those pretty looks my doll gives me while i make her cum ‘round my cock.”
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waves-against-a-cliff · 1 year ago
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Every time. König x Afab Reader
Content: Dubcon, car sex, finger fucking, mentions of alcohol, stomach bulge, size kink????, PiV sex, unprotected sex, riding.
Your mind was buzzing with the alcohol in your system, mind fuzzy and the simplest things making you giggle or laugh. Your skin felt hot, the skimpy piece of clothing you had decided to wear suddenly felt suffocating, thankfully your boyfriend was there to come to your rescue. “König.” You slur, leaning against the armrest of the passenger seat as he drove the two of you home. “You’re so… handsome.” You mutter, looking at his soft strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, freckles that dusted his face. You’d have to be blind not to notice the way his cheeks turned pink at the admission. You grab his large arm, giggling softly at the size difference, how his bicep made your hand look so small.
“Liebling, please.” He whispers, knowing what was going through your mind. How he wouldn’t be able to resist, no matter how much he tried. You hum, pushing the armrest up so you could lean over the console. The alcohol helping to numb the pain of your ribs being dug into as you palmed at his growing erection. Unzipping his pants and slipping your hand into his briefs to stroke his aching cock. His grip on the steering wheel tightens until he pulls into a very empty parking lot. He jacks the car seat as far back as he could to make enough room for you to be on his lap. You squeak a little as he manhandles you onto his lap, your ass pressing against his clothed cock. “Fuck, you always get like this.” He mutters, placing kisses and leaving large hickeys along your neck.
You want to retort something witty but the pleasure and alcohol cloud your mind as you let out a wanton moan. Your fingers dig into his hair as he pulls your dress down off your chest along with your strapless bra, taking one nipple and rolling it in between his fingers while he mouths at the other. Your hips are bucking against his crotch as moans tumble out of your mouth, nipples sensitive from the alcohol buzzing in your veins. “F-fuck, König.” You sigh as his hand trails down your clothed sternum and slips up your tiny dress.
He groans into your mouth as he feels the skimpy thong that did nothing to protect your cunt from his fingers. “You soaked my pants.” He murmurs against your lips. You giggle against his lips before it turns into a sharp gasp as he slips a finger into you. God, he always stretches you so well with just a finger. He thrusts the finger in and out of your sopping cunt, his breathing heavy as he rests his head against the crook of your neck and slips a second finger in. You grind your hips against his fingers, riding them as moans and his name tumble out of your mouth, your hands grip his shoulders. 
Your cunt pulses and clenches around his fingers, thighs seizing up as your orgasm builds. “C’mon.” He kisses against your bare shoulder, nipping at your collarbone. “Cum on my fingers for me.” You cry out as the cord within your stomach snaps and you gush all over his fingers. The sound of his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you are pornographic, your moans fill the car as the windows steams up. He mutters praises as you come down from your orgasmic high. He slips his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his mouth and moans at the taste.
“König.” You mutter, rutting against him weakly and your demand clear. He nods, pulling his cock out from his pants and he lifts your hips so he pushes the tip of his cock into you. The two of you moan as you slowly sink completely down onto his length, the stretch burning in a delicious way. You rock your hips against his, letting another moan come from your mouth as to how far he is able to reach. The tiny bulge that appears in your lower stomach each time, the one that he presses a hand against that causes your head to fall back. He rubs your clit in tight circles, using your previously leaked juices to lube up his thumb. “König, fuck, fuck.” You slur as your mind only dissolves further into nothing. He nods dumbly, his blue eyes hazy with lust and pleasure as that same feeling starts to build up again.
Your fingers tug at his hair as you cum all over his cock, a ring of white forming at the hilt of his length. “Shit, Liebling.” He mutters as your cunt clenches down on his cock and pulses around him. “Wait, wait.” He says very quickly before he spurts cum in you, his cock twitching as he fills you up with his hot, white semen. He breathes heavily against your neck, tears in the corner of your eyes from how hard you had gushed all over his cock. “God, this happens every time.” He mutters and you giggle at that, mind still fuzzy.
@lycheedr3ams
Fulfilled the request, even if Tumblr glitched out >:(
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stvharrngton · 1 year ago
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kinktober: day eight
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, size difference kink, unprotected p in v, dirty talk
word count: 0.6k
taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @mooonyweasley @steveshairspray
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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Steve’s gaze was fixated on where you two were connected. His hands gripping your thighs so they stayed wide apart, his thick cock fucking in and out of your pussy.
His hair had flopped against his forehead, his jaw slack and his mouth hanging agape as Steve breathed out quiet groans at the sight before him. He watched as his cock disappeared inside of you, how your pussy swallowed him up about half way, not able to bury himself in fully.
Steve was in awe, he always was when you two got like this. Eyes fixated on you, how different in size the two of you were. Steve was big and broad, all large shoulders and long legs. Big hands with a firm grip. A man who found it easy to manhandle a girl like you.
You often found his eyes darting to where his large hand held your thigh in his car whilst you were driving wherever, glancing down at where your fingers interlocked when you held hands. Obsessed with how small your hands looked around his thick cock, even more so with how big it looked sliding in and out of your tiny hole.
“Don’t think I’ll be able to take it all, Stevie,” you’d tell him, with your cheeks hot and your lips kiss bitten, “you’re so big.” You’d whine, knowing you were craving the sweet sting the stretch of him would bring.
But Steve would eat it up every damn time. Chuckling at your admission, scoffing at your innocence. “Oh, come on, pretty girl,” he’d say to you, his hands rubbing up and down the soft flesh of your thighs, “I know you can, you can take it, right? Take every inch of my fat cock in that sweet little pussy of yours.”
And so you’d bite your lip at his words, take a breath and swallow the lump in your throat as you watched through heavy eyes as Steve pumped his cock one, two times. Before he allowed himself to sink into you, he’d lean over you, press his lips to yours softly in a sweet kiss, before whispering in your ear,
“Gonna fuck you nice and deep, honey,” his fingers would always find your clit, rubbing soft, gentle circles on the nerve, “gonna stretch out this wet little hole so fuckin’ wide, ‘m gonna sink all the way in until you can feel me in your fuckin’ guts. Fill you up nice and good until you’re screaming my name.”
You’d be too caught up in Steve’s words to notice when he pushes the tip past your entrance, your wet walls sucking him in. You’d both groan out loudly at the stretch, at the feel of being wrapped around one another. Your walls clenching around Steve’s pulsing cock.
And that’s where you found yourself now, your bodies shining with a thin sheen of sweat, fingers digging into exposed flesh. The deep roll of Steve’s hips sent you into a frenzy, your fingers coming to play with your tits, to roll your nipples between your finger and thumb.
You cried out the boy’s name, your back arching all pretty. Steve hummed as his eyes flitted up to yours for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Doing so well, sweet girl,” he cooed, his thrusts becoming quicker and harder as he built his rhythm, “taking my cock so fucking good.”
“Oh, Steve,” you whined, “you’re so big, can feel you all the way up here.” You stuttered out, taking one of his hands that was planted firmly on your thigh and moving it to your stomach.
Your words went straight to Steve’s ego, and his cock. His hips snapping into you, his thick cock fucking in and out of your sopping hole like no other. You were soon both melting into one another, filthy words and obnoxious moans and groans the only noise in the room.
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emmabirb8 · 2 months ago
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Bill Cipher really is the funkiest little guy, isn't he?
He's a demon. He had parents. He destroyed his home dimension save for one singular atom. He was born different from the rest of his people and could see in 3D. He's a narcissistic maniac. He misses his mommy. He's a cruel, manipulative asshole. He accidentally got a little too attached and fell in love with a human, then had a drunken meltdown when they broke up. He created a throne of frozen human agony and tried to kill two twelve year olds.
He's incredibly lonely.
Personally, my biggest takeaway from The Book of Bill is the confirmation that my suspicions about him are (most likely) correct. Bill Cipher is miserable. He's been miserable since losing his family and entire home dimension, and everything he's done since then is nothing but one big attempt to distract himself from his mistakes.
Like, okay. I get that Bill is a master manipulator. He's a big fat liar, and everything he says and does is meant to be taken with a grain of salt. He wants readers and viewers to feel bad for him. He wants us to sympathize and woobify and get attached so he can use that to his advantage. BUT ALSO, I think The Book of Bill still sheds light on the fact that he IS broken deep down.
Everything that we know of Bill is almost entirely a meticulously constructed facade. He's a faker. He's all smoke and mirrors. He suffered a massive trauma (whether it happened on purpose or by accident is up for debate since he is nothing if not a horrendously unreliable narrator), and he had to find some way to cope. So he decided to live in denial. Denial of his failures, his true feelings, and, ultimately, everything that he is. He described the "entity" that destroyed his home dimension as a "monster," and, knowing what we know, that's what he believes about himself. He told Ford the answer of who that entity was would "eat [him] alive" and, in actuality, I think that was more of a thinly veiled admission that his deep-seated guilt over what he did eats him alive. Bill buried that guilt, all those negative feelings, all his mistakes deep, DEEP down, and then decided that if he was a monster, he might as well be a damn fierce one.
Bill became great at manipulation because that was the key to making his whole scheme work -- if he could control what everyone thought of him, make people fear him, bend them to his will and squeeze whatever he can out of them, he could be the meanest, nastiest, most cunning monster to ever exist, and he could keep living in denial. They can't make fun of you for your differences, for being weird (something I suspect happened to him in his home dimension) if you're the KING of weird and can kill with the snap of your fingers. If they fear you, they won't look too closely, into the tiny minuscule cracks in your facade, and see the painful truth.
Bill leaned hard into his role as Nightmare Demon to fool himself into believing all of that too.
But like I said, he's lonely. He has no one (besides his "henchmaniacs," but they're no substitute for real connection). I find it SO interesting how he speaks to Ford in The Book of Bill. "We both know you don't really want to be left alone. Admit it, you LOVE how important I make you feel. . . . [N]obody else really gets you, do they? Without me, you'll always feel unseen, surrounded by dolts who don't recognize your true potential. You've always felt alone in a crowd, haven't you? . . . you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?" -- I think he's projecting. Those are all things that are true about himself and his connection to Ford, but he's pinning it on Ford because he can't bring himself to face it head on.
Bill Cipher is a villain. He's evil. He's a demon. He really did ALL OF THAT.
But he is also a pathetic dorky sopping wet meow meow of a character who is constantly desperately trying to run away from himself.
And now, in the Theraprism, he has no access to his usual coping mechanisms. He has no choice but to finally face reality and figure out a way to do what he's been avoiding doing for literal millennia: to just be.
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content-euphoria · 1 year ago
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Signature Guidelines for college admission SoP
A successful writing strategy is essential sop for college admission . This essay explores the frequently ignored part of SoP writing: developing a distinctive style. Examine useful pointers and advice to give your SoP a unique flair that distinguishes you from the competition. Learn how to make a strong impression on admissions committees, from tone and storytelling strategies to emphasizing your special skills. Improve your SoP to leave a lasting impression on the process of applying to colleges.
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1800titz · 3 months ago
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It’d be so fucking gross in this nasty, no respect for others and/or societal boundaries and morals sort of way, but. Pre-established relationship Harry getting it caught in his head that those tight-tucked, little airplane seats are the perfect place to break in a Never Have I with his new wife. It’s a long flight; Antigua. All the way on the other verge of the equator— a whole stretch of ocean across, from the split of Pangea when all the pretty honeymoon destinations shattered off into speckles along the sea.
And it’s so fucking nasty, but it’s been rattling around behind his skull since their wedding night, when he was licking champagne up from the vale between her tits and stuffing strawberries past her teeth at midnight; Never Have I Ever— a stupid, collegiate drinking game morphed what’s something new we can share with eachother in this new epoch.
(Never have I ever joined the Mile High Club.)
And in theory, the only semi-admissible place to do this is behind that flimsy fold out door outlying the pilot’s cabin, in the cramped confines of a plasticated aircraft half-bath, but. It’s easy, too, in the everdark spilling from the discoid windows, to unfurl a thin throw out from one of their carry-ons across her lap and wriggle his fingers under her waistband. Stick them under her panties and pry her sticky lips apart with a forefinger and middle digit— all sopping and leaky, already, from the way his paw skirted up her inner thigh, just petting (filthy, dirty, disgusting, malignant intentions masked by sweet caresses)— heel of his palm pressed to her mons when the pad of a finger scrapes across her clit, slinks lower. It’s so fucking nasty— everyone’s sleeping, unbeknownst to the way he prods a finger against her seam, and then another, curling, thick, stretching— so gross, but. Yeah…
And he definitely tucks her over that tiny sink in the airplane restroom and fucks her so hard.
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yukimiyaz · 2 years ago
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oliver shows up on your doorstep one night in the pouring rain in nothing but a wife beater and pajama pants and you’re ballistic and bleary eyed asking him what the hell he thinks he’s doing and he just holds up a, ridiculously sopping and disintegrating piece of paper, in front of your face.
“your favorite band, they’re playing across the street from my house tomorrow,” he huffs, and he’s breathing hard. his cheeks are flushed. you rub at your eyes and don’t miss how he softens.
“you couldn’t text me that?”
“you blocked my number.”
“well, that’s what you do to exes, oliver.”
“you wouldn’t have to be my ex anymore if you let me take you and pay for your admission.”
and he’s holding out the—nothing but wet mush, now—flier to you that you can only assume was probably posted on a fence outside his place. and he’s smiling all boyish and crooked and adoring like he always has at you. and he’s dripping wet in his see through tank and too thin pants. and he’s still in his house slippers, which are most likely ruined and waterlogged.
he’s a mess before you, through and through. a sight that, unfortunately, isn’t all that new to you.
“go home, oliver,” you sigh, shutting your door a little more so less of you is visible to him.
his shoulders slump instantly. his hands close around the mushy wad and he nods. he doesn’t object, doesn’t respond with anything more than the faltering of his smile and the dip of his head as he goes to turn on his heel.
“and take a warm shower when you get there,” you call after him, bated, “can’t take me to see my favorite band if you get sick.”
whipping his head back around, a beaming smile stretches across his scruff framed lips. he’s so pleased with himself, you can tell. and it makes it hard to hide your own excitement. without another word, you shut your front door before he can see the wide smile that spreads across your face, too.
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