hbomberguy’s latest video on plagiarism has made me completely rethink literature and writing. I have never once so much as considered intentionally plagiarizing anyone or anything, but I think there’s something more that has come out of this: the names of the people who created the works Somerton (and others) ripped off.
Plagiarism isn’t only bad because it is lazy and disrespectful, it’s bad because it buries the truth. If you can’t find a source, the conversation is over. Somerton’s sources are fairly easy to find by simply searching his plagiarized lines, but that isn’t true in most cases. Most of the time, the line from statement to source is a lot less clear.
Today, I was writing a report on English Ivy, which is an invasive species here in the US. I wanted to know when it was introduced and I at last found a source claiming it was introduced to the Americas “as early as 1727” on a .net website that seems quite reputable (it has multiple major universities credited in its home page), but there is no citation for where this date came from. I dug deeper and found a pamphlet created by a city government in Virginia that made the same claim, only to discover the first source linked in their bibliography. Another website (a botanical garden’s page) gave the same date with the same source hyperlinked. Of course, I have classes to attend and things to do and probably not enough time to follow the lines back to where this 1727 date came from, but if I had not just watched this video, I wouldn’t have given that date a second thought.
Of course, it doesn’t matter in the long run exactly what year hedera helix was introduced to the Americas, but it makes you wonder how many facts have been so vaguely attributed that it becomes completely impossible to figure out where they originated (and further, whether or not they’re true at all).
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https://www.tumblr.com/achivement-unlocked/743086027324932096/kosa
Not the anon, but Kosa is a bill that's soon going to pass where minors on the internet get their parents to see what they search up and restrict things that are deemed "inappropriate." When in reality it prevents kids who are trying to learn about the lbgtq community and kids trying to identify abuse. The bill will change the internet forever and NOT in a good way.
Im pretty sure the anon is trying to ask you to spread awareness about this.
Some links to prevent this are:
https://www.badinternetbills.com/
https://www.stopkosa.com/
https://www.change.org/p/save-our-free-and-open-internet-stop-the-kids-online-safety-act
https://actionnetwork.org/petitions/censorship-wont-make-kids-safe?nowrapper=true#:~:text=Privacy%2C%20free%20expression%2C%20and%20LGBTQ%2B,tell%20them%20to%20reject%20KOSA
Breaking the gimmick for this one, here’s some resources for yall <33
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not a request, i just wanted to send some anon love. what a great and wholesome blog, thank you so much for creating this 🫶🏽 i hope you have a wonderful day and weekend
String identified:
t a t, t at t a . at a gat a g, ta c catg t 🫶🏽 a a a a
Closest match: Impatiens glandulifera genome assembly, chromosome: 8
Common name: Himalayan balsam
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One little white lie, one tiny fib. When the King asks why you're so eager to get back to your own kingdom you give him the usual, "My family, I'm just eager to see them again."
"Family," He rolls the word over in his mouth, like it has a foul taste, "Husband?" You nod, though you've never been married, it's easier being a married woman on the road. This also seems to displease him. "Children?" Your hesitance betrays you, and you attempt to cover it with another hasty nod. Though you can tell by Price's smile he doesn't believe it.
You don't worry about it, push the questions far from your mind in favor of your work. It's only when you're laid out in the King's bed, his fat cock bullying its way into your aching cunt, that you remember your little fib. Price smiles, his lips curling over his teeth as he chuckles out a strained breath. He drags his fingers around the base of his cock, while you adjust to the burning stretch the overwhelming feeling of being filled completely. He pulls his hand away only to drag it down your stomach, let you see the blood and slick where it stains your soft skin.
"Little liar," He chides, pulling out and pushing back into you with a heady groan, "but don't worry, we'll have you bred and wed soon enough."
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coriolanus snow being jelly/ needy and demanding attention,,
been obsessed with him lately tehe <3
“You’re staring again, Coryo.” You announce through your focused state.
"Sorry, Y/N. Can't help it." He says, tossing his pen on the table.
Closing your notebook, you let out a sigh, rubbing your face in mere frustration. Leaning back in your chair, the study room’s ticking clock provides a low level profile for getting work done. But in this case, you were far more than ready to give up.
“It’s not fair! Why must our professors give us an essay and two projects to work on? Do they think we’re robots?!” Arachne questions, throwing her history book on the table.
Turning to face Coriolanus, you widely opened your eyes, hoping he shared the same annoyance at Arachne’s endless complaining. Thankfully he did. Offering you a small smile, you turned back to the study group.
“Because we’re preparing for the 10th Hunger Games. We need to know the importance of the games.” Clemensia replies.
“Besides, we’re all going to be mentors next year. So this is vital for the University. They accept any students who wish to be mentors.” Sejanus adds, leaning onto the table.
“Okay, Mr. Plinth Prize. Please spare us of your wisdom and can we please go get dinner before the mess hall closes?” Arachne asks, standing from her chair.
“Yes please! I’m starving.” Clemensia responds, grabbing her bag.
Standing from your spot at the table, you notice that everyone has practically bolted out the door: except for Coriolanus.
“You okay, Y/N?” He asks, grabbing his bag.
“Yeah, just exhausted, that’s all. I feel like I’m reaching my limit, Coryo.” You respond.
Following Coriolanus to the mess hall, you were so deep into your conversation that you stopped paying attention to the stairs. Upon reaching the second to last bottom step, the sole of your shoe got caught, and you started to fall forward towards the carpeted floor.
Unable to stop yourself, Coriolanus jumped in and leaped forward. Swiftly catching you in his arms, you couldn’t help but yelp at the action.
“Are you alright? What happened?” He asked.
“I’m alright. I think I just slipped.” You reply.
Glancing up at Coriolanus, his worried face and scrunched brows made your stomach turn with excitement. His icy blue eyes were forever locked onto your own e/c orbs and his once neat blonde curls were now draped over his forehead.
Keeping his arms gently around your forearms, the echoing ambiance of the mess hall seemed to fade, until Arachne interrupted.
“Oh what do we have here? Some new lovebirds in our midst no doubt.” She teases.
“Leave them alone.” Sejanus called out.
Finally letting go of Coriolanus, the two of you fixed your uniforms and promptly headed to get dinner. Waiting in line for your food, you couldn’t help but feel Coriolanus’ grip on your shoulders. As your heartbeat slowly started to return to normal, you refused to let Arachne’s constant jokes get in your head.
After all, you had better things to worry about.
Returning to the study room, Coriolanus offered to carry your meal, so once he opened his paper bag, you rested your hand on top of his to make sure he didn’t let go.
“There. Thanks, Coryo.” You replied.
Briefly pulling your hand away, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. He wanted to keep you here, with his hand in yours. But he hesitantly let go, as he knew that the study session was almost over.
Finishing your meals, you let Clemensia proofread your essay, to which she found was brilliant. After a while, you noticed that Coriolanus slowly moved closer to you. And after a few minutes of concentrated silence, his fingers began to brush along the trim of your jacket. Facing him, he promptly motioned toward his pile of notes.
“Can you explain this to me, Y/N? I don’t know what this line means.” He asked.
Leaning closer, you ended up sitting on the edge of your chair. Offering his hand on the small of your back, Coriolanus gave you his full attention as you started to explain the poem to him.
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Ok but hear me out- Hobie with his absolute pussy wrecking dick, and he refuses to do anything with it until you’re fucked out on his tongue first….
(and when he does you can’t say anything cos he’s pounding into you like a fucking animal)
“absolute pussy wrecking dick” audibly gulping rn gasping for air rn
the kind of dick that ripples you when he goes in over and over, every backshot reverberating up your spine, forcing you forward on your elbows and your cheek buried into the mattress. how it fills you out and kisses your cervix in such a sting, you’re fluid and limp as he uses you. his big hand on the back of your neck to keep you pinned to avoid being pushed further away from him with each thrust.
fingers tucked into the overlapping flesh of your thigh and hip, yanking you back into him until you’re yelling, howling into the covers, praying no one in this apartment building can hear you even though you know they can. you’ve got a feeling hobie likes that fact.
your brain has turned to mush, you can’t form a thought, can’t respond to his dirty talk. “knew a slag like you could take a dick like this. how’s it feel, dove? worth it? worth beggin’ for it?”
you’re near tears as he drives into you, moving to palm your tailbone to force you down onto every inch of his formidable cock. drooling onto the sheets, gripping onto them, eyelashes fluttering while your hole swallows him up.
hobie brown and his pussy wrecking dick..
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