#Professor Dave Explains

[transmascpetewentz]

my thoughts on professor dave explains have changed quite a bit over the years

when i first found him i thought he was smart and right about everything and funny

now i still find the humor in his videos but i really don't like how he's extremely smug and acts like he knows more about a topic than people affected by a topic (for instance, trans people) and isn't really open to a lot of criticism from a non-hard-scientific angle. and his new thing, which is in response to extreme evangelical xtians being stupid, to shit all over jewish texts and willfully misinterpret them to make a point

and i understand that point. but his point isn't made well by shitting on his idea of what jewish texts are saying when his misinterpretation is the exact same as the culturally xtian misinterpretation that is pushed on everyone. like, the dumbass evangelical misinterpretation is also going to be your average interpretation by someone who is culturally xtian but doesn't really think about it or hear other views. so the point really falls flat. satire requires a clarity of purpose and target lest it be mistaken for and contribute to that which it intends to criticize.

and dave's satire often does contribute to that which it intends to criticize. his comments sections are full of people being like, "lol imagine believing in sky daddy 🤣" or "old testament g-d is so scary amirite" and while a lot of people are respectful, tolerating and working within misinterpretations and appropriations of judaism is going to create an environment where that kind of shit thrives.

i still think his flat earth/electric universe/etc stuff is good and i use his tutorials to pass science classes

[forgottenbones]

Quantum Mysticism is Stupid (Deepak Chopra, Spirit Science, Actualized.org)

[ethiack]

Bret and Eric Weinstein: Brothers in Fraudulence

Of all the people on the internet pretending to be geniuses, none are more aggravating than the Weinstein brothers. You have Bret, a fake biologist who tells everyone he deserves a Nobel prize for no reason, and really just spreads misinformation about biomedical topics on the internet which get people killed. Then you have Eric, a fake physicist who tells everyone he deserves a Nobel prize for no reason, and really just spreads anti-establishment tripe all over the internet that degrades public perception of academia and the scientific community. Basically, these guys are gigantic assholes. But they've managed to convince so many people that they're brilliant renegades who have been shunned by the establishment, because their truth is just too hot to handle. How are they able to do this, and can their fans be shown what massive frauds they really are? Let's take a crack at it!

[calvin-andhobbes]

Since antisemitic conspiracy theorists are taking the stance that the government is initiating and directing hurricanes toward red states, please be advised, as the election/the holidays are upon us. Not that conspiracy theorists are concerned with facts, but people repeat what they hear without considering the source, especially when trying to make sense of heartbreaking events.

This is an easy-to-understand explanation of how tropical climates and air pressure give rise to these natural disasters, and about cloudseeding and the NEXRAD and HAARP technologies for measuring and predicting weather.

[cometchasr]

sometimes you will simply have to deal with the fact that someone whos content you like is a fucking piece of shit as a person and that it doesnt invalidate their content being good, but it is objectively something very very important to keep in mind

[conceptofjoy]

i made a post about it before about the differences between hal/dirk and dave concerning messing with people. dave’s a natural like he does it without thinking. the dirks overthink it or are too concerned about heaping levels of depth which makes their analogies not flow. even when hal texts jake, shes beating a deaf horse repeatedly because she knows it’ll get results but theres no sauce. dave is talking about a fucking jupiter sized meteor laying siege on earth, WHAT are you talking about???

texting dirk is like reading email from a relaxed professor, texting dave is like being stuck with your 13 yr old cousin who’s trying to explain minecraft story mode lore

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem! reader - PART SIX.FIVE

Six is my lucky number so hopefully you all enjoy the new only-exists-for-smut .5 🫠🫠🫠 sorry this took forever. I kept wanting to end it on a story-building note but couldn’t ever settle on one that I liked, so it is what it is for now.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / sex toys / bondage / fingering / p! In v! / oral f! & m! Receiving / multiple orgasms / it’s a .5 chapter it literally exists solely for the sake of smut so have fun besties / super jealous Ken / rough sex / possessive / spanking / pet names (baby girl) (good girl) / praise / edging / overstim / exhaustion

Ooooohhhhh no no no no….

It was the first day of your Fall flex term class. You still had your normal Fall/Winter full time classes happening but you had decided to sign up for the new four-week course as well, since the professor was a favorite author of yours and you didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to learn from her.

Ken had been with you most of the day. His job at the bubble tea shop was fascinating to him and he asked if he come come to campus with you to explain how magical his first day of work was because he felt being stuck at home would be too boring.

You got to your classroom and turned to Ken. “Alright, you can go hang at the library or something, it’s right next to this building and I’ll come get you when class is over.”

Your new professor heard you as she was walking down the hallway to the classroom herself.

“Oh, he can hang out in class, I don’t mind,” she smiled. “It’s a huge classroom so I’m sure one of seats towards the top back corners will be available if you wanted to stay.”

You wanted to ponder this invite for a moment but Ken had already smiled back and was walking in front of you into the classroom. He was able to have a seat towards the back like the professor had suggested, and he settled in to see what a day in class looked like.

The classroom was one of those giant theater-like seating arenas and echoed a decent amount anytime anyone was talking, so it was definitely echo-y today as students filed in and began sitting down and visiting with their new classmates around them.

The clock was about to hit what was the start time for class when a last person walked into the room and you suddenly regretted choosing a seat towards the front, only because maaayybbee he somehow wouldn’t notice who you were and then Ken wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown of finding out who this guy was. Because of course Ken is attending a class…with you in it…and your ex Dave was now walking over to the professor as she handed him some papers.

The professor introduced herself to the class and motioned towards Dave, who sat near the front of the room as well, and told everyone he would be her TA for the semester.

“Don’t notice me,” you pleaded in your head. You weren’t worried about him, oh no. Dave was honestly a super cool guy and even though your relationship had mostly focused on having fun and sex, you had both parted ways awhile ago on good terms and you hadn’t even considered that he probably still attended school here, as, if you remembered correctly, he would probably be graduating either later this year or early next year. It made sense why he was here, but what was going to not make sense was probably how jealous Ken would get if he found out that this Dave was the Dave he had already had a mild breakdown over.

“Holy….y/n?” He did notice, fuck.

You smiled and greeted him softly, knowing Ken could easily see everything but hearing might be a different matte- oh wait no, the room echoed.

“It’s so good to see you again!”

“You, too! I forgot you hadn’t graduated yet so seeing you is a surprise,” you said cheerily.

“A good surprise, right?” He chuckled and winked.

“For sure.”

He handed you a piece of paper. “This is today’s sign-in sheet. Can you start it and then pass it around?”

“Of course.” You took the paper from his hand and began scribbling your name down.

“Hey, this guy won’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Dave then looked over your shoulder. Yep, of course Ken had noticed.

“Yeah, uh, that’s my boyfriend. He gets kinda fixated on something at times.”

“Like you?”

“That’s…accurate.”

Dave laughed. “I love it. He looks fun. I wish I could pull pink off as well as he does.”

You laughed a little then and smiled at Ken before turning your attention back to the sheet and passed it once you had finished writing your name and email.

Your phone vibrated against your hip and you pulled the phone from your pocket, already knowing who it would be. You had bought him a phone last week and he wasn’t usually on it very much but he was most definitely going to be using it during class now….

“Do you know him?” (Ken)

“Yes. Old friend. Just saying hi.” (You)

“Old fiend named Dave.” (Ken)

“Old friend, not fiend.” (You)

“Same Dave that I know about?” (Ken)

“And this is important because..?” (You)

“Because you’ll be in a class with him for three days each week for the next month.” (Ken)

“Yeah that’s how class works, Ken.” (You)

“I don’t like it.” (Ken)

“You don’t have to.” (You)

“What if he wants to study together?” (Ken)

“He won’t. That’s not how TA / student relationships work.” (You)

“But he still goes to class here? So he would want to study for another class.” (Ken)

“Baby I gotta put my phone away, they’re not really allowed to be active on during class. Don’t worry. You know I love you.” (You)

“Come sit with me, at least.” (Ken)

You had already silenced your phone and put it in your book bag before the last text got sent so you could focus on the lecture. Ken knew you hadn’t seen the last text and tried to keep his internal anxiety at bay.

He wished this awful man from your previous affairs wasn’t sitting in class, distracting every fiber of his being, because the lecture actually sounded interesting, especially since the teacher kept referencing a book called “Black Beauty,” which was apparently about a horse. Ken would have to ask you about it later, and definitely check it out of the library.

Ken noticed every little thing Dave did, as apparently the TA sat at the front of the class as well close to the teacher’s desk and facing the class. Ken set his jaw when he saw Dave subtly glance your way multiple times, and most definitely watched the one time Dave’s gaze focused just a *little * too long in your direction. Ken knew from personal experience was it looked like to fuck someone with your eyes.

Class wasn’t *that* long but felt like an eternity for Ken. The moment the professor dismissed everyone, he was by your side, picking up your book bag for you and holding you close to him by your waist.

“Hey baby. Did you like the lecture?” You asked, genuinely wanting to know since you had assumed he would have loved it, but were also attempting a distraction as you two were walking out of the room. You intentionally didn’t bid the professor or Dave goodbye, simply leaving the class like everyone else.

You cursed under your breath when Dave caught up with the two of you right as you were about to exit.

“Hey, man, I’m Dave.” He flashed a million-dollar smile and extended his hand at Ken. Thankfully Ken had become a little better at hiding his emotions due consistent socialization between your friends and working at the boba tea shop, but he could only keep his disdain for this man hidden so much.

Ken shook his hand but his blue eyes glanced at you, wanting to see your reaction to Dave standing so close.

“I have to get to my next class,” you said nonchalantly. “See ya next time.”

Dave nodded. “I look forward to it.”

You walked briskly out the door, knowing Ken would follow because he wasn’t about to release his grip on your waits, and the two of you exited the building into the day’s sunshine.

“I don’t like him,” Ken repeated.

“I know, baby. Listen,” you sat on a bench and Ken sat beside you, his leg pressing into yours. “I know this stresses you out, and that’s okay, but you can’t hold this over me.”

Ken’s eyes met yours, and you could tell he was trying so hard to maintain his anxious composure, to make sure you were happy with him.

You took his face in your hands. “I love you. I don’t care about Dave. I haven’t in a really long time. These flex term classes are short, but they’re intense. I have to be in every class and studying is going to take up a lot of my time, so I need you to understand nothing is going to happen between me and Dave.”

Ken nodded, but you could tell it was as if he felt like you had verbally slapped him in the face. You knew he needed more validation than you might be able to offer him for awhile, and despite how much that made you sad, you were also trying to set a boundary so the fact that you were attending this class wouldn’t be something that stressed *both* of you out every day.

“I don’t think that *he* is thinking that way,” Ken said, trying to hide the jerkiness in his voice.

“That’s not my problem to worry about. I won’t let him do anything to me.”

Ken seemed almost sheepish in his reply, as if knowing he shouldn’t say it but he couldn’t stop himself. “You promise?”

“More than anything.”

Ken’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he nodded. “Okay.”

You gave him a chaste kiss before taking your book bag from him. “I gotta get to my next class. I’ll see you at home, alright?”

He smiled and nodded as you walked away, and you felt irritated that he didn’t have work today. At least that probably would have helped distract and maybe even calm him.

Your phone rang right as you were about to enter an elevator.

“Hey, Ken.”

“Do you want anything from the store?”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Ken’s chest grew tight again when he heard a now-familiar voice in the background of your phone.

“Hey, hold the door!” Dave called out.

“Don’t hold the door for him.” Ken had a lightning bolt of anxiety rip through him.

“Ken, it’s fine. I love you.”

“Don’t hang up, please.”

You had dropped your phone back into your book bag before hearing his last words, but unfortunately, your finger hadn’t tapped the End Call button hard enough, so the phone call remained on. The conversation was muffled, but not muffled enough to where Ken couldn’t make out every word.

“Sup.”

“I honesty don’t miss hearing you saying that,” you said lighting in a joking manner.

“Ahh!” Dave made a dramatic show of gripping his heart with his hand. “That hurt.”

“Knock it off, Dave.” Your voice remained light. He wished you had sneered instead.

“So how long you been with blondie? He legit gives off vibes that you captured him on the beach.”

“Is he a student here?”

“No, but we live together.”

“Ah, cool! I heard awhile back from Amber that you had moved off-campus.”

“Amber would be correct.”

“So, you two, uh, doing well?” Dave leaned into the elevator wall, shoulders hunching a little, trying to look relaxed.

“Very.”

“Cool, cool. Just asking.” There was a long silence until, “If you ever, like, need anything -“

“Thanks, Dave, I’ll let you know.” Ken knew you had smiled at him. He knew the sound of your voice when you did. Fuck, if only he hadn’t left campus and knew what building you were in.

Ken heard the sound of shuffling and he held his breath as he heard Dave’s next words.

“You look, like, really fucking good, y/n.”

“Dave -“

“You have just a little, uh, strand of hair -“

“I got it, thanks.”

“I could get it for you -“

“I’m good.”

“Fine,” Dave relented, and the elevator bell dinged, indicating you had reached your floor. Right before the doors opened, however, “You’re not planning on regulating that pretty pussy of yours to beach guy forever, right?”

For whatever reason, the phone call cut off then. Ken stood on the sidewalk, frozen.

He sat at home on the sofa that sat in the living room, facing the front door, willing you to walk in early despite knowing you never missed a class and that you were never home before 6:30 on Tuesdays.

He knew he shouldn’t but he had called you multiple times, every call going to voicemail. He knew you never answered during class, but fuck it, he had lost his will to care today. Sitting in the silence of the empty house only fueled his imagination.

The call cutting off because you had noticed it was still on, and Dave touching you in the elevator. You deciding to miss classes for the first time in your life to have him fuck you in his dorm room, doing whatever the hell Amber had subtly referred to. You laughing about him, for whatever reason, with Dave as the two of you lay in a naked, tangled heap.

The front door finally opened, Ken having lost track of time as he had stared at it, lost in his thoughts that had become more and more upsetting as the seconds ticked by. His attention was drawn back sharply as he heard the door close, and he realized he had been gripping both of his thighs tightly with his hands.

He must have looked as unhappy as he felt because your face immediately became concerned upon seeing him.

“Hey, Ken, are you okay?”

He was on you in a moment, rage tearing through him. “What did he do to you?”

You legitimately looked completely confused, having no idea he had heard the call, and also having zero guilt about anything having happening during the day.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dave. What. Did. He. Do. To. You.”

“What…how would he have done anything to me?”

“I heard you. And him. Your phone didn’t hang up.”

Ohhh. “If you heard it then you know nothing happened.”

“It hung up when he mentioned your hair.”

“He didn’t touch me.”

“Promise?”

“Goddammit, Ken, I don’t have to promise.”

“He tried, though. He wanted to touch you. He wants you to leave me.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s fair. That doesn’t mean- “

Ken picked you up roughly, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding your ass as he slammed your back into the door. “Mine.”

You whimpered as his teeth sank into your neck. You always internally battled on whether you should be firm with him and tell him to grow up or if you should encourage this behavior, and somehow the middle ground always won, at least for now.

“Ken, we’ve been over this,” you said, your own moan cutting you off as he sucked hard on your skin, bucking his hard clothed budge into into your panty covered core. You really needed to stop wearing short skirts so often.

“Mine,” he growled again, storming into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, his chest flexing and puffed out.

“I fucking know, Ken,” you threw back at him before your back arched and you cried out, Ken having pushed your legs open and brought his hand down to spank your pussy. You saw stars as he did it again and you writhed underneath him as he pressed his hands into your hips, holding you down.

“Ken,” you whimpered again as he snuck two fingers under your panties, rubbing them back and forth firmly.

“You’re already so wet,” he panted, eyes on fire. “Were you this wet in the elevator?”

You visibly rolled your eyes but shut them tightly when his hand came down on your core again. You gripped his forearms in your hands when he dipped two fingers into your opening with ease, and you moaned loudly as he pushed them roughly deeper into you, immediately curling them into your special spot.

“Are you thinking about him right now?” He seethed, and you shook your head, unable to verbally reply through your moans, your head swimming with how sudden all of these sensations were.

“You’re only thinking about me?” He persisted.

“Yes,” you managed to squeak, his fingers quickening their pace.

“You’ll only think about me?”

You cried out loudly when he leaned over to wrap his hand around your throat as his hips leaned against his own fingers buried inside you, thrusting them into his hand so he could easily finger-fuck you harder.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Ken,” you choked out, your body already nearing shudders.

“You’ll prove it to me, then.”

Your legs began to shake a little, your walls clenching around his fingers. He could tell you were about to reach your peak.

“How long can you hold out on me? To prove you’ll only think about me because you’re so exhausted from begging for your release, staring in my eyes, knowing every single touch is coming only from me?” He pulled his fingers out of you then, and your eyes shot open, your body in shock from being suddenly ravaged to being denied its release.

“Oh, fuck, Ken.” Your head fell back into the mattress, already frustrated beyond belief. “Please, please -“

“Good girl. We’re off to a strong start.”

He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your legs to hang over the bed so you were bent over for him. His hand came up between your legs to spank you again and the sharp sensation on your clit had you instinctively close your legs, your back arching as his other hand down your lower back down.

“Keep them open for me,” Ken warned, a shudder running through you at his tone.

You slowly began to do as he said when he nudged his legs between yours, opening them for him and keeping them open by planting his feet firmly on the ground.

His hand snapped up to meet your clit again and you gripped the sheets tightly as it came back for a third time, your legs beginning to tremble.

Ken had his plan - exhaust you, give you the most amazing orgasms of your life, maybe you wouldn’t want to go to class tomorrow, even though me know you would go. So, make sure every time you moved even the slightest movement that you’d feel him - make you sore, but just the right amount to where you’d try not to squirm in public but maybe you’d get wet from remembering how good he could make you feel.

You felt his hand that was holding you down remove itself from your back and he kneeled between your shaking legs, pulling your panties aside. You cried out loudly, your body in awe, as he pressed his full tongue into your clit, the warmth traveling all through your core.

Oh, fuck, you didn’t know anything could feel like this. Your nerves being so violently stimulated beforehand Made you be about to feel absolutely everything as his lips wrapped around your bud and sucked gently. He moaned into you when he heard the high pitched noise you made, very pleased with himself, and he gently held your hips as his tongue ravaged you.

“Holy fuck…Yes…aahhh…yes, Ken…oh…thank you, Ken…”

You could have cried when he pulled back, kissing up your spine then flipping you onto your back again.

You weren’t used to actually being edged. You had only experienced it once with, of all people, Dave. It had been fun but also absolutely mentally and physically exhausted you, and right now you were insanely frustrated, especially after feeling whatever that was.

“You should just let me come,” You huffed, looking Ken right in the eye as he brought the ties out from the drawer, his muscles clenching.

“Mmmm, maybe later.” He ripped your clothes off except your panties before grabbing one of your arms, deciding to tie you up differently tonight. Instead of tying your wrists together, tied your single wrist to the far side of the headboard. He straddled you as he reached for your other one and began wrapping the tie around -

“By not giving me my orgasm, you’re only encouraging me to think of Dave.” If he wanted to play jealousy games, fine. You’d fuel them then.

Ken gave you a dangerous look, his eyes darkening, waiting in silence for you to explain.

“So tie me up, edge me, then. Have your fun.”

“You know I’m waiting for you to finish that thought.”

“Mmmhmmm.” You tried not to grin up at him.

“So,” he slammed your wrist onto the bed above your head, lowering his face to hover above yours, “fucking finish it.”

You sighed with intention. “It’s just that, nobody has ever edged me before. Except Dave.”

You don’t think you could have explained the energy that washed over Ken in that moment if you tried. But you had won. If he was going to keep struggling with jealousy towards you, then you would make it work in your favor instead of stressing you out…at least for now. Ken was already too far gone when you’d come through the door to calm, so, hey…seeing what he’d cooked up in his mind wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You felt your arm being jerked upward as it was securely fastened to the opposite side of the headboard, and you wanted to protest for the fun of it but you were actually tied up to where you couldn’t move your upper body, save for being able to lift your head.

“Looks like I have a little more work to do than I had originally thought,” Ken spat as he knotted the remaining ties around your ankles, also securing them to the foot of the bed so you were splayed out naked for him, unable to move.

“You better make this worth it,” You sighed again as if bored. “I’m supposed to be studying -“

You were cut off as you moaned loudly, Ken pulling the strip of your panties covering your heat to the side as his mouth clamped onto your clit, sucking hard. Ken’s mind was a rush of anger, of passion, of - goddammit, would this stupid fear of you leaving him actually ever leave him - and all he could see in his mind’s eye was Dave doing this to you, holding you hostage in your own bed, tasting your juices, feeling your perfect skin and muscles under his tongue, taking in your scent as you moaned and squealed and attempted to writhe despite your restraints.

He was so easily lost in you. He thought of untying you then, wanting to feel your hands in his hair, feeling the different tugs when he hit different areas of pleasure, holding your hips up to him in an almost bruising grip. But no, he had to remember his plans for you for now.

He felt dizzy as he licked thick stripes up and down, your vocal reactions becoming louder, and he lost track of time when he began to tongue fuck you, getting into a rhythm that was making you feel crazy as you got lost in the pleasure as well.

He pulled back only enough to speak, his lips still brushing against your folds. “Tell me how good I make you feel, y/n.” He dove back in immediately, desperate to hear your voice as he consumed you - it made him feel so warm and so hard, your breathy, often barely coherent words soothing his anxiety, making him get lost in you even more.

You didn’t reply, at least not with words. Your moaning continued for a moment then paused with another frustration huff from you when he pulled back again.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he commanded a little louder. Maybe you hadn’t heard him the first time.

You remained silent other than your breathing, which you were working to calm down.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he said for the third time, his voice betraying his anxiety when the last word ended on a note that sounded like a question.

He stood up when you kept quiet, leaning over you. “Y/n.”

You looked at him. “Yes, Ken?”

“Why won’t you say it?”

“Why won’t you stop being jealous over things that don’t matter?”

He hardened again then. “They matter to me.”

You stared up at him.

“You’re still thinking about Dave?”

“It’s honestly hard not to when you won’t stop talking about him, Ken.”

He growled. He couldn’t argue with that logic but he hated you pointing it out. He got off you and went back to the drawer and pulled out something you couldn’t see. He walked back to lean himself over you again, holding himself up with his forearm alongside your head.

“Fine, but I’m going to replace your memory of him denying your release with my own.”

You cried out loudly, your body shaking when you felt a strong sensation suddenly being shoved into your panties and pushed onto your clit. Ken held the vibrator on you, watching your reactions, loving how quickly you got lost in them, at how surprising overwhelmed you seem to become within the first few moments.

“You like this?” He breathed.

You couldn’t form words and answered with a string of noises instead, your head thrown back into the mattress as all of your limbs strained desperately against their bounds. Still leaning over you, Ken kissed your exposed throat, sucking ever so gently. He just wanted you to feel him around you.

He knew your orgasm was coming simply by the way in which your breathing was quickening and removed the toy from your panties, the buzzing noise filling your ears and mixing with the white noise swimming inside of them.

“Ken, please,” You started, your voice already sounding raw. He set the toy down on the bed beside you, not bothering to turn it off, so his hand could travel up your waist to your breasts as he kneaded one in his hand and began sucking on the other. Your body seemed to almost relax a little, thankful for the pleasure after having it taken away again.

“Remember when I said you’d have to beg me?” He mumbled around your hardening nipple, swirling his wet tongue around it.

You whined.

“That doesn’t sound like begging.”

“I shouldn’t have to beg for what’s rightfully mine,” you whimpered as his teeth sunk into your tender skin, pulling on the nipple ever so slightly.

Ohh. This was a new mood coming from you, but he loved it.

“Have it your way, then.” He watched you as he inserted the vibrator in your underwear again and you cried out, your entire body doing a delicious shudder, and he got up to straddle your waist. Your panties were snug enough to hold the vibrator against you so he could let go.

“You’re going to beg me, baby girl,” he said as he planted his hands above your head and slowly lowered his cock into your mouth. You moaned loudly, your arms and legs pulling against the restraints as best as they could as he slowly fucked himself into your mouth, watching the way your wet lips wrapped around him as you struggled with the pleasure the vibrator was giving you, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Fuck, he loved you.

He felt himself grow impossibly harder as he watched his clock disappear into your mouth again and again, your loud moans and tiny screams from the vibrator vibrating themselves around his member, and he shuddered. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he melted, his hand reaching down to wrap in your hair not to hold you still but just to touch you.

He knew you were close again when those high pitched noises started emanating from your throat, and he pulled himself out of your mouth and removed the vibrator from your panties.

You screamed in frustration.

“Why?” You wailed.

“Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

Ken tore the area off your panties apart that covered your opening with his hands and you jumped, surprised. He left the top part intact though, and you cursed loudly, knowing why.

When he sunk his fingers back into you, you wanted to do whatever he wanted just to make sure he kept them there. Maybe you could hide your orgasm approaching…

Your body jerked in the minor ways that it could due to your restraints and Ken watched you, memorizing every way you twitched and moaned.

“Look at me, baby girl,” he cooed, and you did as he asked. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Please, Ken, please let me come this time.” Your voice was a little hoarse again.

“You know how to make that happen.”

“I’m begging, please, please.”

“That’s hardly begging at all.” He slowed his fingers down just enough to where they were caressing inside you, and once again somehow you felt every little movement. Your body felt like it was singing at the immense pleasure washing through you, and your head became so overwhelmed with it that you became completely lost, eyes closed, mumbling and moaning softly as Ken watched you. He’d have to remember to do this to you again, you seemed in absolute bliss.

He had planned to edge you further again with this one but now struggled with the idea. He didn’t know you’d react this beautifully to this, and fuck, you were a perfect angel splayed out so willingly for him, and your body has already taken so much…

Ken fingered your through your orgasm, your body shocked with the fact that it was finally being allowed its climax, and you cried a little as the best orgasm of your life overtook every fiber of your being.

His name escaped your lips in a gorgeous, exhausted whisper during the last few moments of your pleasure, and Ken’s heart danced.

He pulled his fingers out of you softly, your body limp, and climbed on top of you. He kissed you deeply, the back of his knuckled grazing your cheek bone.

“Thank you, Ken,” your words were swallowed by his lips.

“We’re not done yet.” His tongue dipped into your mouth and languishingly explored.

“I’m so tired, Ken.” Your voice cracked as he pulled away just long enough for you to catch a breath before consuming your lips again.

“Good. That’s how I want you to feel.”

“You went sex toy shopping?” Your giggle faltered as soon as it began, head resting itself on Ken’s as his mouth found your neck.

“Mmmhmmm. Which reminds me…”

“Oh, please, please, I can’t-“ You couldn’t form words again after the first few seconds of the vibrator being placed inside your panties again.

“Say my name.” You felt Ken’s hands reach between the two of you to unzip his pants.

“Ken,” you mewled.

“Again, y/n.”

“Ken,” your voice sounded on the edge of tears again.

“One more time.”

You screamed his name as he bottomed out into you with a single thrust, him holding his hips fully against yours without moving for a moment, groaning into your shoulder at how amazing you felt already clenching and spasming around his cock so so damn tightly from the sensations of the vibrator.

“Ohhhh, y/n.” He purred into your neck, remaining still within you, feeling as if you could push him over the edge just like this.

“Need…to…breathe…”

He kissed away a single tear as it rolled down your face. He pulled out the vibrator again, keeping his cock deep inside you.

You thanked him, gasping for air. “It’s…. it’s so much.”

“Mmmhmmm.” He nuzzled his nose into your hair.

How far could he push it? What was your cutoff point?

He pulled himself out of you then slowly thrust back in again, a strangled noise escaping your throat. He did it again, and again, maintaining this slower pace.

“You’re doing so well, y/n. My good girl takes me so well.”

Your lower lip trembled and he took it between his lips, sucking gently as his hips slowly picked up their pace. You made little kitten noises with every thrust, Ken’s head swimming with them.

“Need….it’s…too…”

Your mouth opened into a silent scream when you felt the vibrator placed back onto your clit, Ken’s hips still bucking into you.

“You’re going to be fine. Just a little bit longer,” He soothed. He reached up to untie one of your restraints, your arm falling onto the bed, and he intertwined his fingers with your own. He knew you were definitely nearing what you could take because your grip was almost non-existent, just barely closing around his hand.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed into your ear. “I’ll give you what you want if you-“

“Please.” Your blissed out, weary voice was barely a whisper.

“Good girl.”

“Please, please let me come, Ken.”

You climaxed just then, Ken forcing himself to not let his own happen as you tightened so effortlessly around him, calling out his name over and over.

You felt barely coherent as Ken untied you, your eyes closed, feeling your limbs one by one being returned to you. The vibrator was removed and turned off and Ken took off the remainder of the fabric that had once been your underwear.

You felt Ken wrap his arms around you gently, still on top of you, hips still nestled between your legs.

He kissed you deeply as he sunk his cock into you once more, your body shivering with cold sweat.

“Just one more time, y/n.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Masterlist

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[gatheringbones]

[“Police seem to have three reasons for arresting victims of gender-based violence: for the victims’ own good; to compel participation in prosecution; and because they see these victims as perpetrators. In the context of intimate partner violence, police sometimes justify making arrests by claiming that arrest will be helpful, forcing victims to face the seriousness of the violence and encouraging them to seek services. Similarly, law enforcement frequently cites rescue when arresting victims of trafficking. As Ohio attorney general Dave Yost explained, “Arresting the people who are the victims of human trafficking sounds harsh, but the complicated reality is that this often is the best way that law enforcement can help.” Deputy police chief Marc Garth-Green told the Seattle City Council that victims of trafficking might need to be arrested “to disrupt the cycle of violence and abuse. . . . For people trafficked in prostitution, jail can be a safer place than out on the street.”

Law enforcement officers use arrest— sometimes repeatedly—to “build trust” with trafficking victims. As one law enforcement officer explained, “You’ve got to take that girl away from that pimp for a long enough time that she trusts you, and that’s not going to happen in 24 hours or 36 hours.” Police believe that arrest prompts victims of commercial sexual exploitation to admit to their victimization, enabling them to access the services and supports they need to escape their traffickers. In some “prostitution diversion” programs, which are specifically designed to prevent people from being prosecuted for sex work–related offenses, police are not permitted to offer trafficking victims and others engaged in sex work services without first making an arrest. In other programs the existence of the program creates an incentive to arrest; police use arrests to bring people to central locations that offer both on-site booking and links to services. Law enforcement’s belief that such programs will “save” victims of trafficking from the streets is directly linked to increased policing to fill those programs.

Rescue may also be a function of white supremacy. As social science professor Kamala Kempdaoo has argued, white supremacy can be manifested in a desire to help racially marginalized people, which maintains the position and power of whiteness within racial hierarchies. Some in law enforcement recognize that arresting trafficking victims is a counterintuitive way to provide assistance. As sergeant Kathy Lacey of the Anchorage Police Department has explained, law enforcement’s intervention options are limited: “We don’t want to punish them. We want to remove them from that situation, and the tools that we have to remove them from that situation are to arrest them and to remove them from that trafficker.” Arrest is often described as a minor inconvenience in the service of a larger goal and harmless so long as the person is not convicted and left with a criminal record. What that perspective ignores, however, is the harm caused by arrest. Whatever good intentions law enforcement might have don’t keep people who are arrested from pushing back against the coercion implicit in the requirement that they comply with services or face incarceration. This vision of arrest as helpful, as rescue, is particularly ironic given how often victims of gender-based violence report abuse by law enforcement officers.”]

leigh goodmark, from imperfect victims: criminalized survivors and the promises of abolition feminism, 2023

[whats-a-human]

Advice on deconverting:

The anger is REAL. If you aren't pissed off already, then you'll probably be eventually with the shit they taught you/what happened to you. And you're ALLOWED to feel that way, but PLEASE PRIORITIZE YOUR SAFETY. Try not to get into arguments. The anger will dimish with time, especially if you focus on good, healing things. Don't downplay or run away from your anger, but shift your focus from bad people to yourself and your allies.

THE FEAR IS ALSO REAL. It's a normal reaction to show up during confrontations and sermons, so notice it but don't let it control your decisions. Especially when you go through a difficult situation... going back to god may be tempting, but eventually you'll never even remember him during hard times lol

BUILD A SAFETY NET!!! Irl friends, online spaces, everything you can find to help you!!!

You'll have to learn to leave so many things and people behind. It hurts, but I promise it'll get better beyond the wall. And refrain from "saving" others: they'll never deconvert against their will.

Even if you still believe in the supernatural, give it a break and learn to accept a non-magical reality. I'm not saying you should be an atheist but it's so important to be at peace with the idea of permanent death, human-made morality, an indifferent universe and such. These ideas were extremely liberating for me, but I know they're worrisome for some. You gotta build your new worldview based on objectivity first

So, it's so important not to overwhelm yourself. Your journey is like a tower, built one brick at a time.

Knowledge is your friend, and especially the same type you may have avoided before. I'm talking of evolution, debunking theist arguments, the history of christianity, other religions, demonology, etc. I like the YT channels of Genetically Modified Skeptic, Forrest Valkai, Professor Dave Explains, Religion for Breakfast, Esoterica, and Aron Ra's series on Noah's Ark. Aaand you'll find more good ones along the way!

Healing from religious trauma is like any other kind of trauma: lots of ups and downs, you may relapse, have breakdowns, and you're bound to make mistakes too. In my case, I was already pretty far in my recovery from mental illnesses before deconverting, and so I employed tactics like the safety net in this situation and although I made mistakes too, I mostly felt at ease. I also recognized and dealt with religious trauma still inside the religion, but I only notice now that I could only FULLY heal from its effects outside the church.

Wish you the best

[ark-barkness]

It took me a bit longer than expected but I finally wanna talk about Tennis Ace. Spoilers for Keisuke's and Shoichi's routes ahead ⚠️

I know I said before how I think Yuuichi is the best MC of all visual novels, but I never explained in full detail why. So today I wanna talk about Yuuichi

Point number 1: His growth as a character

Yuuichi is a character that I frickin love for a simple reason, he has a HUGE room to grow as a character.

During the prologue of the game Yuuichi is on a rut. He stopped caring about Tennis, barely putting in any effort. As the story progresses depending on your choices and the route, Yuuichi rekindles his love for tennis, especially in Keisuke's route where not only he finds the motivation to start putting in the effort again, but he also starts acting like a proper menton and senior for the newest members of the club.

His relationship with his friends is also a huge part of his growth as a character, let me explain.

Point number 2, Yuuichi is kind of a bad friend

Yuuichi tends to be an airhead, he does or says things that end up hurting his friends, but he doesn't do them out of malice and once he's called out he tends to back off and try to change his behavior, except in certain scenarios. Yuuichi, just like Dave from Password, has a huge Atlas complex, and just like Dave's it comes from not wanting to deal with his own shit.

This is frustrating as hell, but again, it gives him a lot of room to grow. In the perfect route with Shoichi he starts correcting that behavior, in Jun's route he learns to be a better friend, in Keisuke's route he realizes how bad teammate and senior has he been.

It's still frustrating but I still love that point of auto realization he has in all routes.

Point number 3, Yuuichi feels like an authentic person realizing he's gay

Yuuichi is not demisexual, his past relationships with girls didn't work because he didn't have a strong connection with them, it was just that he wasn't into them, plain and simple.

He's gay! Yuuichi slowly realizing his friends, classmates, teammates and even professors are cute or handsome is one of my favorite parts of Yuuichi's inner monologues, and he only needed to get a boyfriend to realize it.

TL;DR: Yuuichi is the best MC in a furry visual novel because he feels real, because he's flawed, because he grows as a character.

I don't want a big, muscular, perfect wolf as an MC, that's boring (...but hot). I want a character that tries his best and feels genuine, that doesn't stay the same throughout the whole game, that ultimately learns his lesson and grows as a character. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[absurdthirst]

Religious Corruption: Our Gentle Sin

Professor!Dave York x Virgin!F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: Religion kink, corruption kink, innocence kink, age gap, unbalanced power dynamic, grooming (?), professor/student relationship, blasphemy, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), panty kink, exhibitionist kink(?), oral sex (make receiving), filthiness with rosary beads, desecration of Holy spaces, daddy kink, baby/little girl pet names, spanking, orgasm denial, loss of virginity, explicit photo without consent, vaginal sex, cum swallowing, mentions of analingus, face sitting, pussy spanking, unprotected sex, angst, heartbreak, controlling parents, arranged marriage, family drama, threats of disownment, derogatory language (whore), children, mentions of pregnancy.

Comments: Now that the truth has come out - you were a conquest for Dave York's corruption kink - it's time to see how the dice fall. Do you go back to what your parents want for your life, or do you let Dave back in?

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

!!Additional Warnings!! - There are themes in this fic that might be disturbing to some. Religion/Power Dynamics/Age Gap - consume at your own risk.

|| MasterList || Religious Corruption MasterList ||

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

His calls go straight to voicemail. His texts are rejected. You've turned off the app that allows him to see where you are. You've blocked him. Dave stares at his phone and the ache in his heart is nearly overwhelming. He wants to drive straight to your dorm and beat on the door, demanding that you listen to him but he knows you need space. You need to calm down in order to listen and he needs to organize his own thoughts and figure out how to explain.

Sitting down at his computer, Dave opens up his official school email and starts to type.

Sweetheart,

I first want to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you and making you cry. The only time I like seeing tears on your pretty face is when you are overwhelmed. Feeling good and I know you were not feeling good when you left tonight.

You were right. It started out as a conquest. Your virginity was a prize for me to claim. I never have been a moral or righteous man, you have to know this. Why else would corrupting you be so sexy to me? Why would making you break all the promises you made to your parents, to yourself, to God, be such a thrill? I guess you are right. I am evil.

But.....something changed. I know you saw the girls before you. The other 'good girls' that I corrupted. They were....victims of my own sins. They were prizes that were tossed away when the innocence was gone. If you read the book, you saw that I wrote a lot about them and there is very little that has been noted about you since the day I took your virginity. It's- I stopped writing because I - fuck, I don't even know why, really.

I realized yesterday that I had stopped. That it had stopped being a game for me. I brought you home. None of the others were ever allowed to spend the night, to stay with me. I never wanted them here. I kept the journal at home because they were not there and I just- didn't feel the need in writing down everything that I had done with you - to you.

Please talk to me. Please give me a chance to explain in person. To apologize. I owe you an apology, baby girl. I will get down on my fucking knees and beg for forgiveness if you will just talk to me. To let me show you that it's not a game anymore. Honestly it might have never been. I don't know. I just know that I hate myself right now, I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I can't pull you into my arms and hold you.

Talk to me, scream at me, hit me, I don't care. I deserve it. Just....please believe me when I say that I love you.

Dave

He stares at the email. Unhappy with how inarticulate he sounds, how badly he conveys his emotions in this. It's hard to try to write what he is feeling when all he wants to do is pull you into his lap and promise you with his kisses that you mean more to him than just a page in a trophy book. That he needs you to be happy. Dropping his head to his hand, Dave rubs his eyes, watery and red, and looks back at the email again. 

He knows you might just bin it. So instead of hitting send, Dave saves it as a draft and closes his laptop. He'll talk to you tomorrow in class.

*

The second you climbed into the uber you had blocked his number, not wanting to hear his excuses, not wanting to be suckered in by the man you know you love. The man you know could never love you.

You sent an email out to the Faculty supervisor advising that you didn’t feel Dave's class was for you and that you’d be dropping it from your timetable immediately. 

*

You began sobbing again as your uber pulled up outside your dorm, the driver shot you a reassuring look as you climbed out. 

You took your time approaching your building, not wanting to be back in the cold and lonely dorm room you had rarely stayed in the past few months. Only really staying when Dave had to speak to parents or had a faculty meeting that would be running late. 

It’s weird. That’s the first thought you have as you open the door to your room, it feels like home. But not the one you had made at Dave’s. The one you spent years growing up in, cold and lonely, too scared to make too much noise and too anxious to ever feel comfortable in. 

You trace the crappy wooden desk with your fingers, your bible, rosary and cross tucked neatly in the corner. Gifts from your parents that have since that been used as props in the depravity you played out with him.

‘What did I do?’ you murmur out loud as tears drench your puffy cheeks.

A week. That’s what you gave yourself, a week of no classes, a week of living off sandwiches and only showering when you couldn’t put it off any longer. Lying comfortably in your bed with your phone switched off and making no effort to contact the outside world, apart from when you switched on your laptop in midweek and ordered an insane amount of food from instacart to be dropped off outside your door.

You wondered if he tried to call, you wondered if he’d noticed his number was blocked. And then you started to wonder if he’d simply moved on to the next girl. That particular thought makes bile rise in your throat and threaten to spill out across your bedsheets.

*

Dave didn't sleep. Tossing and turning all night, he was on his phone every fifteen minutes. Checking to see if you messaged him, if he had missed a call. Several of his own texts pinging back as undeliverable since he was blocked. He had almost gone out to buy another phone to try to talk to you but decided against it. You wanted space and he decided to give it to you even though he hated it. 

He doesn't see the email until he is nearly ready to leave for campus. The Faculty advisor for the freshman class, your class, with an email title containing your name. 

Making him sit down and listen to his heart pounding in his ears as he clicks on the email. Disappointment, heartache and anger at himself swirling in the pit of his stomach as he reads that you are dropping his class, effective immediately. 

Shit. Dave shakes his head and snaps the laptop shut. Needing to talk to you, he stops himself from going to your dorm and beating on your door. He'll give you a week to calm down. You deserve it after what he's done.

*

A knock at your door pulls you away from the book you’re half paying attention to. ‘That was quick’ you think to yourself, assuming that it must be the driver dropping off the Oreos and Jalapeño Cheddar cheetos you had been craving. You quietly creep towards the door, and peer through the peephole. ‘Fuck,’ you mouth as you slowly move back away from the door.

An entire fucking week. It's how long it's been since you walked out of his house and of his life. 

Dave is fucking miserable. Hating how he keeps looking for you in class, despite knowing that you've dropped it. Deandra tapping on his fucking door during office hours and raising his hopes only have them die a swift death when her overeager and too cheerful face pops in the door. He's come close to canceling classes all week, but he would have to explain that to the department heads and what could he possibly tell them?

He's rearranged his house. Driving the two hours out of town to where he would take you shopping. Far away from the college and anyone either one of you could possibly know. You love window shopping and imagining. A swivel chair, one that hangs off a base and allows you to spin around completely had been your favorite and you often moaned about having enough money to buy it. Telling him in detail exactly where you would put it in his home. It now sits right where you wanted it. To the left of the table where he sits to grade papers. It lets him imagine you sitting there. 

Now, he's caved. Standing in front of your dorm door. Knocking quietly and praying - despite the fact that Dave York doesn't pray - that you will open the door and talk to him. He's not even seen you around campus and he's worried. Unable to ask anyone who knows you without making it seem suspicious, apparently both of you had been very good at keeping your relationship hidden. 

He shuffles slightly, reaching out and knocking just a bit harder, more insistently. Listening for any sounds of movement from within the small space.

You’re not sure if you want to open the door to slap his face or just smash your lips against his. Why is he here? And what more could he possibly want from me? 

You quietly creep back into bed, pulling the covers all the way over your head and fighting to keep the tears threatening to spill down your face at bay. This week has been filled with tears, anger, upset, reasoning and being unable to hide from the fact that you’re completely and utterly in love with a man who set out to ruin you from the second he saw you. 

And now he’s here, just a few feet away.

He makes himself look like an idiot. Several students study him curiously as he stands outside your door but they don't say anything to him. Still he waits, knowing that if he says anything, you won't open the door for him. 

Finally, another person comes up the call, bag in hand. Hustling with the energy of someone who is trying to get things done, they barely glance at him before they check their phone and look at the number on the door and drop the bag on the handle. Stepping back and taking a picture before turning and walking away at the same impatient pace. 

Of course, Dave is curious. Finding Oreos and Cheetos in the bag, he's miffed you aren't eating properly, but he's happy you are at least eating. Instead of staying, making you open the door to him in order to get your food, he gets the message. You don't want to see him. Sighing softly, Dave puts the bag back on the door handle, a little heavier with his own addition and turns to walk away - kicking himself for being responsible for all of this.

*

You’re not sure how long you stay hidden under your blanket, but the knocking had stopped at least fifteen minutes ago and the chime from the laptop had informed you that your delivery was outside. 

Slowly you sit up, before taking a deep breath and wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

Eventually you take small steps towards your door, peering through the hole and seeing an empty hallway. You open the door and quickly grab the bag hanging from your handle. 

You empty the plastic bag over your bed and raise your eyebrow at a package of sugar cookies that you never ordered, cookies you recognize as being from the grocery store you two would go to out of town. Where he’d hold your hand and insist on paying for whatever ingredients you had loaded into the cart for the meals you’d cook.

You pick up the plastic casing and turn it upright and what you see makes your heart stutter. Your breath hitches and a fresh stream of tears spring to your eyes.

A polaroid clearly taken from his kitchen of the pink velvet swivel chair that you absolutely adored sitting in every time you went to that store. You can feel the plush material on your fingertips now. Two words written in sharpie on the white frame around the photograph ‘Come home.’

Confusion wracks your body, anger slowly joining it, ‘Why is he doing this?’ you murmur, ‘Is this just part of the game he seemingly loves to play?’ 

‘Enough is enough’ you think as you throw the cookies and the photo in your nightstand drawer, you are going to take a shower and you’re going over there to confront him. He will not hurt you anymore.

Dave hates waiting. It’s something he’s always known about himself but he’s learned it’s especially hard now. 

After leaving the cookies and the photo, he had driven home. Changed into comfortable clothes and started waiting. The blinds open and his phone in his hands at all times, he watches for any sign that you are willing to talk to him, to forgive him.

He waits. And waits. The light from the day fades and you don’t come.

*

The last two weeks had been miserable.

You had felt more determined than ever to go and face Dave, ready to listen to what he had to say and go on from there.

You grabbed your toiletries bag, and some fresh clothes and made your way down to the showers. Taking the time to freshen up, and think through what you were going to say to him. You’d grabbed the same yellow sundress from the first time you’d gone to his house, not realizing until you’d put it on. You fixed your hair and made your way back down to your room.

The sight of your door slightly ajar sent a shiver down your spine, you knew you had locked it before heading to the showers. ‘Dave?’ you questioned quietly before taking a deep inhale and pushing it all the way open. 

“Where on earth have you been?” your father bellowed from across your room, “We haven’t heard from you for over a week. You haven’t attended classes… We were worried sick.” You  had remained entirely still throughout his ranting and raving, him refusing to let you have a single word in as he went off at you. 

Your mother sat silently on the end of your bed just shaking her head at you repeatedly, “Your father is right,” she eventually said, “We didn’t raise you to be like this. We spoke to your advisor and he’s agreed to let us take you home for a few weeks, we have something important to discuss with you.”

“No,” you call out, “I’m not going… I can’t. I have things to do. I have class—.”

“You have to do what me and your mother say,” your father says with a scoff, “You have ten minutes to pack.”

Pleading and begging your Mother fell on uncaring ears, she simply walked to your door and waited on the other-side. Listening to you sob as you threw some things in a bag, including the cookies and photo from Dave. 

You decided you would text him that night, and arrange to meet up when you returned home unaware of the news awaiting you. 

*

“You want us to what?” you said in utter disbelief, “I barely know him.” 

A chorus of laughter filled the room as you looked across at the face staring back at you, the grin on his face mocking and slightly bored, “You’ve been in my bible study for six months,” he says nonchalantly, “Our parents agree that we would be perfect together.”

“I-uh, I—.” You attempted to get out a sentence but your father quickly cut you off. 

“To the joining of our families,” he said as the room erupted with cheers, and a ring was hastily shoved down your finger. 

In less than twelve hours you’d gone from being comfortably laid up in your college dorm to being dragged home and engaged to a boy you’d barely spoken ten words to. 

Stories were exchanged about how his parents had met at St Brennans just like yours and now you and Joshua. Tears spilled down your cheeks as they celebrated your impending union whilst acting like you weren’t there. Whilst pretending you weren't silently sobbing at the end of the table, because they were snatching your life from you. 

Over the next two weeks you had been taken for a dress fitting, the dress already chosen and approved by your father, you’d sat sheepishly in a cafe whilst they tested cake samples and your stomach threatened to spill its contents everywhere and you’d been given a date. July 1st.

Despite being an adult and able to make decisions for yourself, your parents had decided you still needed to be punished for disappearing for a week, so they took your phone. Locked it away in your father’s office and refused to give it back to you until the day you were going back to St. Brennans. 

Joshua had informed you that he would be driving you both back with a wink and you wanted to scream.

*

The drive back was as uncomfortable as you expected, Joshua had gotten into the habit of calling you ‘babe’ and it made you cringe internally every time. You couldn’t understand it, he was so comfortable being pushed into a marriage arranged for him, and so receptive to you being his wife without knowing you.

A twang of guilt built up in your stomach as he went on and on about the life he was expecting for you both, clearly excited to follow in his parents footsteps and you hated that you couldn’t relate. 

He thinks you to be this pure and innocent girl, one who lived to serve Christ but the reality simply couldn’t be further away.

*

Dave sighs, not even bothering to pull out his phone and check to see if you have messaged him. You've completely ignored him, refused to answer your door the six times he has gone back to your dorm to talk to you and managed to avoid him on campus. 

He needs to just accept that you want nothing to do with him and move on, but he's finding it hard to do. Which is wild considering he was already planning on how to end things when he met you. Starting a relationship that had a finite expiration date and now he was the one that was hanging on like a pathetic sap. Secretly, he believes he deserves it. 

The knock on his door makes his traitorous heart gallop in his chest, although he knows it won't be you. It will be Deandra. Coming once again to flirty and very obviously try to get closer to him. It's making him extremely uncomfortable. To the point where office hours are now taken with the door open when a student is in his office and there is a camera set on his bookshelf to record the interactions. He doesn't trust her and he doesn't want her to be able to say that something inappropriate happened when it didn't. Ironic considering what he has done in this office.

*

You check your emails the second you arrive in your dorm, plugging your phone into the charger and waiting for it to finally switch on for the first time in weeks.

**RE: Meeting with your faculty supervisor.**

You click the email and see the date and time, and groan out loud seeing you have less than 15 minutes to get to her office on campus. 

You slip on your shoes and grab your key, having no choice but to leave your still dead phone on your nightstand charging. 

The halls are busy, most classes having just ended meaning that the halls are filled with your peers spilling out to make their way to their next classes.

“Oop, sorry,” you yelp as you bump into someone, too busy checking the time on your watch to realize where you were.

Dave reaches out, reflexively taking the errants students' shoulders so they don't fall. His own apology dying on his tongue and all he can do is whisper your name. Shocked that you are here, his heart pounding and his mind racing - wondering why you are here now. He had been trying to get away from his office and now you are running into him.

Your hand instinctively comes up to your chest as you steady yourself, “Hi,” you breath out, unable to ignore the warmth that floods you after seeing him for so long, “I have a meeting with my fac—.” You begin to say, about to ask if he’d meet you for a coffee somewhere or maybe you could go for a drive to talk. And that’s when she bounces out from his office, a smug smile spreading across her cheeks as she sees you.

Dave doesn't even notice that you've stopped talking, that your entire body has stiffened. The sound of his office door closing doesn't meet his ears or register at all. 

You're wearing a ring.

You're wearing an engagement ring. It's not a purity ring. It couldn't be a promise ring. It's a solitaire, a pretty ugly one, if he were to say something. Marquis cut and a tiny chip of a diamond, but it's an engagement ring for certain. 

His heart shatters and it's all he can do not to grab your hand and rip it off your finger. To fling it as far away from you as he can. His vision blurring for a dizzying moment before he blinks and looks up at your face.

“Professor York,” you simply say, voice dripping with venom, “Deandra.” You look at him one more time before pushing past them both and making your way to see your advisor. Feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes as you continue onwards.

Shit. Dave's eyes slip closed and he realizes what you thought you just walked into. He shakes his head and calls your name, but you don't turn around. Refusing to acknowledge him. Deandra moves up beside him and huffs, making him turn towards her in annoyance at her ruining seeing you again. 

"What?" He demands, refusing to be nice after she had ruined his one chance to talk to you. Before she had come out of his damn office, you had actually seemed happy to see him. 

"I'm just surprised that she's back." Deandra sniffs, staring after you unhappily. 

"Back?" Did you go somewhere? Did something happen to you? Are you okay? The questions swim in his mind but he doesn't ask them. 

"Yeah, her parents pulled her out for two weeks." She supplies smugly, like there's something wrong with you and she's obviously more superior because her parents haven't pulled her out. Dave wishes they would. "Joshua from the bible study group was bragging that he was getting engaged to her when he went home this weekend."

Dave's jaw clenches, fury flooding his entire body. You were being handled. Forced into a marriage your parents arranged for you to marry a good, 'Godly' boy. Something you had worried about to him while you were in his bed and he assured you wouldn't happen.

*

Your meeting was a disaster, you could barely concentrate as she handed you three weeks of missed assignments, three weeks of homework to catch up and read out a letter from an anonymous member of your bible study group about how disinterested you appeared to be. How your phone would go off and you’d make a lame excuse and practically run out of the building somewhere. 

She gave you some feedback from a few professors who had been pretty complimentary but made the same comments about your head seemingly being elsewhere else. And then she made a standoffish remark about you understanding where they’re coming from. 

You apologized about fifty times before she dismissed you and you carried the stack of paperwork you needed to catch up on. You weren’t to go to class tomorrow she had said but as she wanted you go concentrate on catching up.

The door of your room swings shut behind you as you throw yourself down on your bed, your phone has finally charged enough to switch itself on and you pick it up and start going through your notifications. 

A few missed calls from your parents as expected, some texts from the kids in your bible study group and nothing from Dave. Which should come as no surprise to you seeing as you blocked his number, but still stings.

‘Probably been too busy with Deandra,’ you grit out from behind your teeth.

*

Maybe marrying Joshua won’t be as bad as you think. Yes, you’ll probably end up living the exact same life as your mother, and you’ll never be truly happy. 

But you can’t hurt the way you’re hurting right now, if you never let anyone as close to you as you let Dave you repeat to yourself. 

You look down at the ugly ring on your finger and you sigh.

*

Dave's strides down the hall of the dorm room are filled with anger. Some students recognize him, skittering out of the way. Or maybe they just see an angry older adult and decide to vanish, but he quickly makes his way to your room again. You will talk to him. 

This time he doesn't knock. Grabbing the handle and growling when it turns in his hand. Pushing the door open to your room and stepping inside before practically kicking the door shut behind him. Making you jump out of your skin when he startles you.

You’re in the middle of an essay for your English Literature class, and the door flies open scaring you half to death. Dave strides in the room and lets the door slam behind him. 

“If you’re looking for Deandra, you’re in the wrong building,” you spit at him before he can speak.

He ignores the barb, knowing you won't believe him if he tried to tell you that nothing happened with her. Especially because of your jealousy before. "Is this what you want?" He demands, eyes sparkling with anger. "Really want?"

“What are you talking about?” Completely oblivious to the fact he’s seen your ring.

"Joshua." He spits the boy's name with the same venom that you had said Deandra's. Jealousy drips from his tone but he will freely admit that. He'd confess every sin to you if you would let him. "You're going to marry him?"

You feel your chest constrict as you realize he knows, “How did y—,” you begin to say before stopping, “Why do you even care?”

"Why do I care?" Dave repeats your question and chuckles angrily. "Why do you think I care, little girl?" He demands, stepping closer to you and it's still too far away for his liking. "I waited for you to talk to me, and you- you ran off and let mommy and daddy pair you off."

“Fuck you,” you spit back at him, “Some of us don’t have a fucking choice, Dave. You think I wanted to go with them? Have to sit there and listen as they discussed whether I’d ever been kissed before? Discuss my virtue like it’s the only thing that fucking matters? Have to sob silently at the fucking dinner table as they toast crappy champagne and celebration a union that I don’t fucking want. All whilst the man I lo—,” You shake your head at him again. 

“Clearly you’ve found your next participant, so why don’t you run along and find her.”

"I haven't touched Deandra." Dave hisses, scowling at you and the scene that you've painted of what has happened. It pisses him off and hurts him because he knows you were unhappy because of him. "I'm not going to touch Deandra." Or anyone else. He wants to say but you don't want to hear that. You aren't ready to hear it yet.

“Really?” you scoff, “Not as fun when they’re throwing themselves at you. But I'm guessing that’s technically what I did… Took the other months, didn't it? And it took me days.”

"Shut the fuck up." Dave growls, angry that you would talk down about yourself. He wouldn't let anyone say something like that about you, not even yourself. He shakes his head and glares at you. "Don't talk about yourself like that."

“Why not?” you say with a shrug, “Is that not what you would have written about me when you got bored of me and filled in your little diary of conquests.”

"Fuck this." Dave knows he could get slapped but he doesn't give a fuck. Surging forward, he grabs the back of your neck and crushes his lips to your desperately. Pouring every ounce of frustration and love into the kiss.

You hands float midair as he pulls you into him, his mouth covering yours as he kisses you deeper than ever before, part of you wants to push him off and tell him to fuck himself but a bigger part of you doesn’t, so you don’t, you let him kiss you like he needs it to survive. 

You finally pull away and repeat the six words you’ve said numerous times to your parents and hope that this time they don’t get swept away or completely ignore, “I don’t want to marry him.”

"You're not fucking marrying him." Dave promises you, his hand reaching for yours to pull that piece of shit ring off like he had wanted to earlier. Hating how he has to let you go, but this is important. 

He's gentle with your hand, sliding the ring off so he doesn't hurt your finger but once it's off, it clatters to the floor and he's dragging you back to him.

“You need to explain, Dave,” you say as you place your head on his chest, “You need to tell me why you did it.”

He closes his eyes, knowing that he owes you this. He owes you so much but he at least owes you an explanation. He takes a minute so he doesn’t just kiss you again. "Sit down, baby girl." He urges you softly. "I- I'll tell you everything." His hand slides up and down your back slowly before he lets you go.

You sit down on the bottom of your bed and rest your hands in your lap, “Tell me.”

There's symbolism in the way that Dave kneels down in front of you. Not only so he can look you in the eyes, but he is literally kneeling at your feet. Laying his sins bare in front of the woman he has wronged and hoping that she forgives him.

"You- you were right." He starts off, not willing to insult you by denying it. "I started this out with every intention of taking your innocence. Corrupting you."

Your hands tighten together and he hates the way your breathing hitches. "I- It's a thing- a kink, I guess. Taking someone innocent and pure, virginal and turning them into.....a slut." God, it sounds horrible when he says it out loud.

Dave doesn't touch you, sensing you would recoil if he tried right now. "So when you- when you showed me that you had a crush on me, I chose you." He takes a breath. "But baby, I- I need you to know that it didn't- it changed. It completely changed."

You squeeze your eyes closed, his words making you feel a little dizzy, “When did it change?” you ask, “What makes me any different from those other girls?”

He wants to tell you that it's the night he took your virginity, because that's when it started to shift. At least from what he can pinpoint. But you wouldn't believe that. You would think that he was just trying to say that your pussy was too good or something like that. 

"I don't know." He admits quietly. "I- I never went shopping with them. They never spent the night at my house. They didn't know where I live." He had made sure that there wouldn't be any dramatics brought to his home. "I didn't want them with me all the time. I didn't love them."

“You say that like you loved me,” you whisper back, unsure whether you’re reading between the lines, or if he just admitted to loving you.

"I didn't love you, past tense." Dave whispers just as softly. "I do love you. As in, I haven't stopped." He shakes his head and murmurs your name, "I love you."

“I don’t want to be here,” you admit to him, your hand coming up to touch his cheek, “Take me home, Dave.”

He had thought for a second that you would slap him. He would have deserved it. Your hand on his cheek makes him close his eyes, relaxing for the first time since you had fled his house so many weeks ago. Calling it home makes his heart skip a beat. Nodding, he swallows harshly. "Get your stuff, sweetheart. Whatever you want to bring." He won't assume you want him, he won't assume you are going to his home to sleep with him but he wants you to be comfortable.

You pack a few things, mostly just stuffing them on top of the stuff you already had packed from your trip. Dave picks up the pile of paperwork you need to work on and your laptop, as you bend down and collect the ring he had thrown across the room. Setting it on your desk with a little note simply saying, ‘I’m sorry.’

"Let's go, baby girl." Dave is impatient to get you home. Especially when you told him that Joshua was going to drop by to see how your first day back was when he got done with bible study. He wants to be gone because he will hurt the boy's feelings.

You follow him out the door, pulling it shut but not bothering to lock it. You want Joshua to get his ring back and anything of value is coming with you. You walk side by side with him down the hallway, your shoulder lightly brushing against his as you do so.

"I came by your room a lot." Dave admits as the two of you walk towards the exit. "I- I wrote you an email that night. Never sent it, thinking I would talk to you the next day in class. But-" He doesn't finish the statement, knowing you know what happened. He just wants you to know that he hasn't just forgotten you.

“Can I read it?” you ask as he holds open the door for you, “If you still have it?”

"I do." He follows behind you and looks around to make sure that your fiancé isn't nearby as he guides you towards his car. "It's saved as a draft."

You walk silently to his car, ignoring the confused looks from other students as he carries a stack of your things. He opens the trunk and you carefully place your bags in there and make your way to the front. Sliding in the passenger seat and waiting for him to drive you back to his place.

As soon as he has left the campus, Dave is handing you his phone. "Open the emails and go into the drafts." He has nothing to hide from you and it will allow you to read it while he's driving. More importantly, you would see when it was written.

You don’t want him to see you cry, but with every new sentence your heart aches a little harder, you’re still so unbelievably angry with him and you don’t know how long it’ll take for you to let it all go. “Why didn’t you send it? This was written that day, Dave.”

"Would you have read it?" He asks, looking over at you seriously. "Or believed a word I said?"

“I don’t know,” you admit honestly, “maybe, maybe not.” You look out the window as your complex disappears from sight, and you play with your hands in your lap. A small smile briefly landing on your lips as you get a flashback to the first time in his car. “You bought the swivel chair?”

"Stupid, I know." Dave huffs to himself, wishing that he knew what you were thinking right now. "I just- I needed to imagine you there. It- it didn't feel like home anymore."

“Did spending that much money help?” you say with a small giggle, “It's nice that you were thinking of me.”

"It didn't help, but I was hoping that you would come back and enjoy it." He hums, smiling at the sound of your laugh. He hopes that your good mood will help, since he's not done confessing. "There's something else that I need to tell you." He confesses, looking over you briefly before looking back at the road. "About all of this."

“What is it?,” You say glancing over at him, he’s focusing on the road a little too hard. Almost like he can’t bring himself to look at you.

“You remember all the pictures I took to show you what you looked like?” He asks. Of course you remember. After every filthy, depraved thing that he had done to you, he had shown you how beautiful you looked. Cum coating your face, your tits. The first time he filled your pussy with his ‘seed’. His view when you sat on his face. You bouncing on his cock. All snapped to show you how filthy you were. He loved every single one of them.

“Yes,” you sat quietly, “Why?”

Dave is quiet for a second, the words heavy on his tongue. “I kept them.” He confesses, wanting everything to be in the open. He doesn’t want anything else to pop up and it requires him to come clean.

You nod, not entirely surprised if you’re honest and you lightly tap your fingers against your knees, “Has anyone else seen them?”

"Never." Dave growls out, disgusted with the idea of anyone ever seeing you like that. "I never sent them to anyone or showed them to anyone but you. They were- they are in a password protected file on my phone."

“Okay,” you breathe out, “I- I am not surprised that you kept them. It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.”

He's shocked that you aren't upset. Looking over at you to gauge what you are feeling as he drives gives nothing away. "Do you want me to delete them? I will, I'll let you delete them, go through my phone to make sure I don't have them anywhere else."

“Did you take photos of the others?” you ask, that thought threatening to spill tears from you.

"N-no." Dave shakes his head quickly, unsure if you will believe him. "I never- the first time I took a picture like that was because you wanted to see it and I- it was perfect."

“I remember,” you say, and you believe him. He’d always made it clear that he’d never do anything that wasn’t specifically given the green light and you were confident that he would have had those rules with the others, so you don’t think he’d lie. If he had done so, they would have consented. 

“You don’t have to delete them,” you announce, “As long as they’re safe.” 

"Do you want to see them?" He asks softly. "I'll give you the password. So you can check."

“Yes,” you say, sucking in your cheeks, “I would.”

Dave gives you the password to the file after telling you where to go on his phone. He even gives you the code to unlock it since it's gone dark after you read the email, wanting to show you that he has nothing to hide anymore. The password is your birthday.

A small fleeting smile creeps on your face as he tells you the password. “Mhmm,” you hum, and then you slowly start to scroll the hundreds of photos.

Dave sighs softly at how well you are taking this. Silent as you scroll through the photos that had recorded practically every lewd act the two of you had done together. Most of them were taken in his house, but a few in his office. 

While you had been gone, it had been all he had to keep him sane, another the last two pictures in the album were his favorite. The first was a picture of you sprawled on his chest, fast asleep as you curled into him. The other is when he had to slip out of bed to pee and you stole his pillow to cuddle. Both of them made his heart clench although he hadn't realized why at the time. 

“They are great pictures.” Dave murmurs quietly. 

You hum in response, riding out the rest of the car ride in a comfortable silence.

*

It doesn't take long for Dave to pull into his garage again, happy to be home and he sighs as the garage door closes behind the car. "We're here." Dave murmurs, looking over at you and wondering why you want to be here. You haven't told him anything about what you are feeling or what you want to do beyond wanting to come here.

“We’re here,” you echo as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. You walk around to the trunk and pick up your bags and he grabs your laptop, leaving the stack of papers in his trunk. You wait for him to start walking to the house before following him, unsure what you want to say, unsure what’s about to happen, but feeling glad to be back here.

Once Dave puts everything down on the table, he's running his hands down along his jeans nervously. "Is there anything else you want to know? Questions you have?" He asks softly. He's off balance right now, the dynamic has shifted and right now you have all the power.

“Not right now,” you say. The swivel chair immediately grabs your attention. He had placed it so close to where he marks his papers that he could reach out and touch you without needing to stretch at all. 

“I’m a little hungry,” you admit, still focusing on the chair.

"Food." He can do food. Nodding, he motions towards the chair. "Sit down and I'll make you something to eat, sweetheart." He tells you, turning back towards the fridge and stove. "I'll make you some breakfast." You love eating breakfast anytime of day and it would be easy to throw together.

“That sounds good,” you say, slowly walking towards the chair, brushing your fingertips across the velvet and then slowly lowering yourself down on it. Swiveling it so it’s facing Dave in the kitchen. You sit and watch him cooking, watching the way he’s focused, measuring the ingredients for pancakes so precisely and mouthing the method as he prepares the batter.

You haven't said that you want to be with him and there is a worry that you are stringing him along to make him twist in the wind for awhile before you tell him that he's fucked up too much for you to give him another chance. He tries not to concentrate on that. "Did you- why did you go home?" He asks.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say honestly, “I was getting ready to come here. My parents had arranged for me to have time off of school. I tried to say no to them.”

Dave shakes his head, annoyed at your parents for meddling in your life. Taking away the minute freedoms you had since attending college. "I'm sorry, baby girl. I know you had to hate that."

“I had this big plan to come here, Dave, I had so much I was going to say to you. To tell you,” you bite down on your lip to suppress a sob, “I was ready to talk to you.”

"You can tell me now." Dave looks up from the pancakes to gaze at you softly. "Everything you wanted to say. I deserve it."

You look up at him and those big puppy dog eyes, “I was going to tell you that I’m more than just a clergyman’s daughter,” you feel the tears you didn’t realize had built up in your ears start to drip down your cheeks, “I was going to yell at you and tell you that I didn’t deserve it. But mostly I just wanted to see if you were truly sorry.”

"You are more than a clergyman's daughter." Dave will admit that easily. "It- there's also a religious aspect to my sexual appetite." He rolls his eyes and gives a slightly self deprecating sigh. "It has to do with that. I deserve to be yelled at. You do deserve better. So much better than me. But baby, I am sorry.

“I know you are,” you reply softly, “I know you’re sorry baby.”

"I- how much of the book did you read?" He asks, wondering what you remember about it.

“Not much,” you shrug, “Figured out pretty quickly what it was. And seeing my name and the amount of days…” You don’t want to finish the sentence, you simply shake your head and shrug again. Blinking away the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

"Are you ashamed?" He asks, knowing that it's a difficult question. "Of sleeping with me?"

“No,” you say as you stand up and take a step towards him, “No. I’m hurt that it happened the way it did, but I'm not ashamed.”

"I meant what I said." He rasps out. "I- it was always your decision. If you had- hadn't wanted to, I wouldn't have-" He shakes his head. "A few days, a few years - you're worth the wait."

“You would have waited a few years?” you say with a raised eyebrow, “Mhm.”

"Before you?" Dave shakes his head, admitting that he wouldn't have waited. He would have moved on. "No, I wouldn't have. But you? Baby girl, you just- you don't understand."

“I do,” you say quietly as you take his face in your hands, “It’s just gonna take a while for things to heal.”

"I know." Dave knows that you don't trust him, you shouldn't trust him. He closes his eyes at the feeling of your hands on him, grounding him and proving that you are real and here. "But you aren't marrying that twerp." He grunts.

“I’m scared,” you admit as you pepper the lightest of kisses on his lips, “I don’t know what’s gonna happen when my parents find out.”

"Fuck them." Dave growls, angry that they would essentially sell their daughter because that's what they were doing. "I won't let them affect you."

“I don’t want to think about it right now,” you mumble, “And I don’t want you to burn my pancakes.”

Dave rolls his eyes and huffs, turning back towards the pancakes to flip them to the other side. "Now who's bossy?" He grumbles.

“I learned from the master,” you say as you take a seat on the counter, “And don’t forget the chocolate chips.”

"The next one will be chocolate chip." Dave promises, moving over to the pantry so he can get the mini chocolate chips to add to the pancakes.

“I’m going to tell my parents tomorrow,” you say as you pop a handful of chocolate chips in your mouth and swallow, “Worst thing they can do is stop paying my tuition and get me kicked out and drag me home right? They can’t force me down the aisle.”

"They can't force you down the aisle if you're already married." Dave murmurs, plating up a pancake and measuring out the batter for the next one. The idea of you marrying that little asshole pisses him off and he won't let that happen. Nor would he let them control your life anymore.

“And who exactly would I be married to?” you ask, not completely believing what you’re hearing.

“Who do you think?” It stings, the knowledge that you had never even given the idea of a future with him. Hypocritical of him, but still.

“I’ve dreamt of it,” you admit, “Those nights when I was snuggled up on your chest listening to you snore. Me and you. Somewhere far from everyone else, a small courthouse. 

“I don’t snore.” Dave lifts a brow at you, smirking slightly when you roll your eyes at him. “Your parents have no control over me. And I don’t give a damn what they will say.”

“Dave,” you snort, “I’m pretty sure there’s a question you’re supposed to ask me, if you’re serious.”

“You want me to ask you now?” He asks, pointing at the pan. “In front of your pancakes?”

“Are you scared I'll say no,” you say before you whisper, “In front of your pancakes?”

“Yes.” Dave concentrates on flipping the pancake a little more than he probably has to. “I’m a lot older than you, I did a lot of things you shouldn’t forgive me for, some would say I groomed you.”

“Mhmm,” you say, “Some would say I waltzed into your bedroom and started to strip in front of you… old man.”

“You did strip in front of me.” Dave can’t help but smirk. “Spread your legs and begged me to fuck you, little girl.”

“I might need a refresher.” You say with a wink, “Hurry up with my pancakes.”

Dave growls and his cock twitches at your playful and bossy command. “So bossy. Going to spank you if you keep it up.”

“I think if anyone deserves a spanking here right now, it’s not me.”

Dave smirks and moves another pancake to the plate. “Are you saying you want to spank me, little girl?”

“If you don’t hurry up with my food, I might have to.” You sit as you reach over and pull the plate towards you.

Chuckling, he shakes his head and turns to get the syrup and the milk out of the fridge. “Eat up, little girl, I’ll make your eggs.”

*

You’re all snuggled up in the swivel chair, watching Dave mark a few papers before you yawn loudly, and he immediately turns to face you.

“Do you- uh, want to sleep?” Dave asks, setting down his pen and deciding that he is done for the night.

“Sleep sounds good,” you say with another little yawn. “You all done?”

“I can be.” Dave stands and starts shuffling the papers, stacking them on his laptop and turning to you. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”

He stretches out his hand for you to grab, and leads you up the stairs to his bedroom.

Dave turns towards you once you are in the bedroom. Earlier, you had brought your stuff up here and he doesn’t know what you’ve done with it, but he doesn’t see your bag. Reaching up, he cups your cheek gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Goodnight, baby girl.” He murmurs softly and steps back so he can go sleep in the spare room. He’s not going to push you and just having you under his roof is enough right now.

“Where are you going?” You ask clearly confused.

Dave frowns and turns back to you. “I- you want me to sleep here with you?” He asks, feeling like it would be the last thing you would want.

A small laugh slips through your lip, “You think I want to sleep in your bed without you?” You shake your head before running your hands over your hair, “Get into bed, York.”

“Shut up.” Dave blows out a huff and reaches back to shut the door to the bedroom. Just a habit of his.

“You shut up,” you counter back as you pull off your sweater, and start unbuttoning your jeans.

He smirks slightly, happy to see your spunk showing and he starts to undress. His eyes are fixed on you though, watching you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body.

You look up and see him staring at you, “Dave,” you murmur as you step out of your jeans, “Are you planning on sleeping in your clothes? Because I'd much prefer it if you didn’t.”

“I’ll get undressed.” Dave promises you. “Just admiring the view. I’ve missed it.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly, knowing it drives him crazy when your voice is dripping with innocence.

He groans, knowing you will see that he’s already half hard when he pushes his jeans down. “Yeah.” He rasps out, tossing his shirt aside and reaching for the button of his jeans. “A lot, baby girl.”

“Show me how much, Dave.” You whisper after you take off your bra and start to push your panties down your legs.

“Jesus.” He exhales roughly, his movements speeding up a hell of a lot more now that he has permission to touch you.

You lay down on the bed and slowly spread your legs, watching him palm himself through his boxers, “I want you to taste me.”

“With fucking pleasure.” Dave groans, quick to push down his boxers and he kneels on the bed. “I’ve missed the taste of your sweet pussy, tasting you cum for me.”

“Shut up and do it then,” you order as his hot breath ghosts over your thighs.

“Bossy.” He nips your thigh before he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your cunt.

“Don’t tease,” you beg as he places his mouth on your soft flesh.

He doesn’t. He gives you exactly what you want. Slow, thorough drags of his tongue through your folds so he can make sure he tastes every inch of your cunt.

Within seconds he has you squirming beneath him, lapping at you like a man starved as you moan his name over and over again, “please Dave,” you start to beg, desperate to feel release for the first time in weeks, feeling no shame in how quickly he has you on the edge.

You are still so sweet, so innocent and it makes his cock throb. Your body rocking down for more of his touch along with the breathless moans of his name. Dave dips his tongue inside you before curling up to suck your clit into his mouth. One hand letting go so he can push three fingers inside your tight little hole.

You gasp at the intrusion, the stretch overwhelming and simply incredible all at once. He curls his fingers up inside of you as his tongue teases against your clit, and you cum hard, taking the both of you by surprise.

Dave groans, pressing into you harder as the slick of you cum coats his fingers, wanting to make it so good for you. Absorbing all your sounds and basking in them.

“Dave,” you whine as his tongue refuses to let up, continuing to lick your bundle of nerves, despite your whimpering.

Dave just hums, eyes flickering up to watch you squirm. Your eyes flutter and are not able to stay open as you try to not push him away.

“It’s too much,” you whimper as he doubles down on his efforts, flicking your clit with his tongue and thrusting his fingers in and out of your heat and pulling your second orgasm from you with a smirk across his face,  “No more, I just want you inside of me.”

Dave grunts, unhappy that he can’t pull orgasms out of you until you’re a mess, completely melted into the bed. But he’s also aware of the fact that he’s getting a second chance right now so he lets go of your clit and kisses it, groaning at how slick his fingers squelch when he pulls them out of your pussy and shuffles to kneel between your thighs. “You want me inside you, little girl?” He asks huskily, wrapping his wet hand around his cock and slowly jerking himself.

“I need you inside of me,” you say as you wet your lips, watching him slowly stroke his cock. “I want to feel you deep inside of me.”

“Fuck.” Dave doesn’t tell you the truth. That if he fucks you again, he’s not letting you go. Instead, he nods, shifting so that he is hovering over you and smirking as he slides the head of his cock around your clit, teasing it until you whine before he lines himself up.

“Don’t tease,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you again for the first time in weeks. “I need you, Dave. I need this.”

“I’ll always give you what you need, baby girl.” He vows, slowly pushing his hips forward and dropping his head down to hang between his shoulder blades as he groans out your name.

The stretch of him always makes you wince, a little jolt of pain that promises so much more pleasure. One of your hands comes up to touch his face gently gripping his jaw as he fills you to the hilt. “Make me feel good,” you whisper as you pull his face down towards yours, needing to feel his lips on top of yours.

It’s the best order that he could ever be given. Normally, he would take it to heart, snapping his hips into you so brutally the bed would hit the wall. This time is different. This time the tempo of your slow, languid kisses is the same tempo of his hips. In no rush for it to end, Dave makes sure you feel every second of his cock dragging through your walls as he pulls back, only to fill you again just as slowly.

His slow pace is almost dizzying, every drag of his cock notches against that little spot of paradise inside of you, and you feel consumed by him in the best kind of way. All of your senses are occupied by him, the taste of his mouth lingers on your tongue, the warm inviting scent that is so uniquely Dave fills your nostrils, the soft grunts he gifts to you with every loving thrust flow into your ears, his eyes bore into yours and you feel his soft touch everywhere. His lips capture yours again and the second they part you’re spilling the words that have lived on your lips for what feels like forever, “I love you, Dave.”

Dave freezes. He knows you love him, he’s seen it, he’s felt it. But this is the first time he’s heard the words out of your mouth, directed towards him. 

He lowers himself to his elbows, pushing his arms under your back and gathering you close as he pushes deep. “Marry me.” He begs against your lips right before he kisses you with enough passion to steal his own breath.

“Yes.” You say against his plush lips, before you feel your walls begin to contract around him, your orgasm plummeting towards you both as he rocks himself in and out of you.

It’s perfect, you’re perfect. For the first time in weeks, Dave feels completely at peace, even as the demands of his body mount. Kissing and praising you softly while you tremble underneath him. Panting into your mouth when you are urging him to cum.

“Fill me up.” You say as you feel his cock start to throb against your walls. In this moment you know that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, and despite the fact you have a lot to work through, all you feel right now is safe.

“I love you.” Dave groans out, pushing deep and emptying himself into you, physically and spiritually with the most intense orgasm he’s ever had.

“I love you, too.” You say as you press your lips to his, “I really love you.” He moulds his lips to yours again, whilst wrapping his arms around you, his softening cock still comfortably nestled in your heat as he just holds you. Kissing you with as much passion as he can muster as you run one of hands up and down his spine and gently hold the back of his head with the other.

Dave shifts to his side and then his back, bringing you with him as you both roll over and you sprawl out over the top of him. Like his own personal blanket and he doesn’t want you to move.

You nuzzle your face into his neck as he reaches down to bring the blanket up over you both and you hum a sigh of contentment, “You feel like home, Dave York,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep as you drift off comfortably in his arms.

*

The two of you are tangled together, sleeping peacefully and would have continued to sleep if it weren’t for the sudden and demanding beating on the front door. Making you and Dave both jump and look around for a second before the doorbell starts peeling out incessantly as whoever is at Dave’s door demands to be acknowledged.

“Please don’t tell me you have a secret wife, I don’t know about,” you mumble as you watch him jump out of bed, and then you hear a voice you’d recognise from anywhere.

The banging on the door gets more incessant and your father’s voice bellows out over and over that he knows you’re in there.

“Shit, that’s my parents” you hiss as Dave pulls on his pants, whilst studying your face, “How the fuck did they find me so quickly?”

Dave shakes his head, wondering if they have tracked your phone. He doesn't say it outloud, but he had been tracking you with your permission, but who is to say they didn't do it without you knowing?

"Do you want to stay here?" He asks, knowing he will deny you are here and demand they leave if you want him to.

“Yes,” you answer almost instantly, “I want to stay with you.”

"No baby, I mean do you want to stay up here and I'll get them to leave." Dave clarifies, knowing that you might not be up for a confrontation with your parents.

You nod as the sound of your dad's banging gets louder and louder, “Please.”

Dave nods, leaning down and kisses you quickly before grabbing his jeans and rushing out of the room as he pulls it on. "I'M COMING!" He bellows as he thunders down the stairs and snatches the door open with the angriest scowl he can pull on his face. "What do you want?" He demands harshly, making the man at the door - your father - abruptly step back at his greeting.

“We are here for our daughter,” your dad announces, before straightening his spine and huffing out his chest, “And we aren’t leaving without her.”

"Your daughter?" Dave looks behind him and scoffs. "Don't see anyone but me here." He turns back, his eyes narrowed. "So I suggest you leave."

You hear your father bellow your name again and you sink under the blankets. 

“We have it on good authority that she left with you yesterday,” your dad challenges back, “And we aren’t going anywhere until she’s coming with us.”

"Lower your fucking voice." Dave barks, furious that your father would disturb his neighbors. He shakes his head, knowing that playing dumb won't work, so he switches tactics. "Last time I checked, your daughter is an adult and can go where she pleases, with whom she pleases."

“Our daughter is engag—.” Your dad begins to yell as Dave takes a step towards him. Seizing her opportunity, your mother immediately pushes her way through the small gap Dave leaves in the door. 

She screams your name, the shrillness of her voice sending a shiver throughout your body, “Get downstairs now, do not make me come up there.” 

You groan as you kick the blanket off of you and roll out of bed. Bending down and grabbing Dave’s shirt from yesterday. You hear Dave yell as your father barges his way into his house, and starts bellowing your name. Slipping on his shirt, you slowly make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs.

Dave huffs, pushing past the older couple to stand at the bottom of the stairs. A silent sentinel between you and your parents. He can see the abject horror on your parents faces and doesn't give a shit as long as you are okay. "You need to leave." He demands again, crossing his arms over his chest.

The sound of your fathers disgust hits your ears like a tonne of bricks falling right in front of you, “You need to leave,” you echo, “Dave’s right.”

"Dave?" Your mother's voice cut through the air like a knife. "Your professor? You call him Dave? You're sleeping with him!" Her face is a mixture of horror and shame, looking at you like you have killed her.

You make your way down the stairs and stand next to Dave, “I am an adult,” you say, your voice shaky as not sounding anywhere as brave as you’re willing it to, “And I want you to leave.”

“You’re a whore,” your father immediately counters back, “Dressed in his clothes… Sleeping in his bed.”

His words feel like a bucket of ice water being dumped on your head, and you look over at Dave, his face contorted in anger and his hands balling up in fists.

You reach over and grab one of his hands, “Get out of our house.”

You are the only thing holding him back from tossing both of your parents out of his house on their asses. He knows you love them still, despite trying to control your life. "We are going to the school." Your father hisses, righteous indignation pouring off of him in stinking waves. 

Dave barks a laugh and shakes his head, smirking angrily at the other man. "No you won't." He sneers. "To tell them that two consenting adults are sleeping together?" He asks, aware that you could possibly be tossed out for violating the morality oaths the school has. Firing him would be more difficult since he has tenure, but not impossible. Still, your parents won't risk others finding out. Their pride was more important than their daughter. 

"You would have to tell them that your daughter isn't pure. That you failed as a Godly example. People would find out, people always talk. Wonder what kind of house you ran." He taunts, moving his hand from under yours and he wraps it around your waist, pulling you against him protectively. "And you will not talk to her again until you apologize for calling her a whore."

Your mother takes a step towards you and shakes her head, “Go upstairs, get dressed and get in the car,” she orders, ignoring Dave and narrowing her eyes on you, “We can tell Joshua and his family that we found you in a hotel, and this little mistake—.”

“No,” you yell back at her, “You can call me a whore. You can get me kicked out of the college I didn’t want to go to in the first place, but you will not call my fiancé a mistake. The only mistake I’ve made was not sticking up to you both sooner. So leave. Go back home and go tell everyone that your perfect little daughter is nothing but a filthy little whore.”

"Fiancé." Your father bellows in anger, puffing up again. "Your fiancé is the boy we picked for you. Not this, this - man!" He scoffs. "He doesn't want you. He wanted to taint you, to get you to sin. Spoil you for your husband. The girl told us about him."

“The girl? What girl?” you ask, “What are you talking about? And again. I am an adult. I don’t need you to pick a boy for me.”

"You are our daughter!" Your mother shrieks, spit flying from her mouth as she screams at you. "We decide what is best for you, you disobedient child!"

"The girl. The one that said she was in Bible study with you." Your father answers, ignoring his wife's outburst.

“Deandra?” You say with a laugh, “The girl that’s been trying to fuck Dave since the first day of class?”

You turn to face you Mom and shake your head, “Yes your daughter, but not your goddamn property. Just leave. Now. I’m not going with you. I’m not marrying Joshua and I’m not spending the rest of my life too scared to speak up anymore.”

Dave is proud of you, immensely proud of you for standing up for yourself. Looking over at you with a smile and nod of encouragement before he looks back at your parents. "You can leave now and we will talk later on when you've calmed down. Or I will call the police and have you arrested." He tells them, his tone flat and serious. "Your choice."

“If you don’t come with us now,” your father says after pulling your mother back to his side, “You will never be welcome in our home again.”

Dave squeezes your hand and you can sense he’s about to snap but before he has a chance you give your dad a little shrug, “I was never really welcome in the first place.”

“You truly are a disappointment,” your father says as he grabs your mom's hand and leads her towards the door, “When he wakes up bored of you and you have nothing and nowhere to go, don’t come running back to us.”

“Jesus.” Dave strides to the door, making sure that your parents are barely on the other side before he slams it and locks it. Turning back to you with a look of compassion and sympathy as you stand there on the last step of the staircase, looking lost. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” He murmurs, rushing back over to you to pull you into his arms.

The tears that you expect you start welling up in your eyes, don’t come, instead a wave of relief floods through as you nuzzle your face in his neck, “I love you, Dave.“

“I love you.” He wants to assure you that none of what your parents said will come true. To tell you that you have nothing to worry about, but he will do that later. Right now, he just holds you. Needing you close and letting the relief of you staying with him course through his veins. There had been a moment where he thought you would give into them.

You rest your forehead against his relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, before whispering “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He chuckles softly, knowing that you need something comforting right now and he will give you whatever you want. “Pancakes sound perfect, sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead and pulls back to look into your eyes. “Extra chocolate chips.”

[Five Years Later]

The sound of your twin daughters giggling happily fills the air as Dave dumps another bucket of sand in front of them, whilst insisting that he’s going to build them a castle fitting for his little princesses. 

A smile spreads across your face as you finally feel ready to reply to the email that has been sitting unanswered in your inbox for days. 

You rest your free hand on your growing bump and the sun immediately reflects off the gorgeous ring on your finger. You open the camera app and snap a photo of the bump housing your unborn son, your ring, the back of your girls heads and a gleaming Dave staring up at you with the most loving smile splashed across his face. 

You attach the photo and simply type back,

Hello, 

I have all the family I could ever need right here with me, so no, no you can’t meet my children. 

I couldn’t protect myself from you both for so many years, but I will make sure I keep them safe from the hatred you spew under the guise of religion.

Despite everything, I wish you both well. 

Goodbye.

*

Looking up at you, Dave is once again struck by how serene you look. Perched on a lounger with your toes in the sand with the umbrella overhead, you are basking in the warm sun without being overheated whilst looking like an angel in your white bikini. His son on display underneath your breasts. 

Five years since that horrible night where your parents disowned you and left you with Dave, he hopes you’ve never regretted a day of it. 

Marrying quietly at the courthouse, the two of you had very deliberately started your life together. Dave taking another position at a different college, one that didn’t hold bitter memories for you. Your own education now firmly in your hands and he had meant what he said when you would do what you wanted. 

The girls were born three years ago, his princesses, and he adored coming home to you and them every night. Now, the next one - your prince -  is on the way to complete your little family.

Dave has everything he’s ever wanted. Almost. He sends you a small, dirty wink before turning his attention back to the girls. Later tonight, he’ll corrupt you just a little bit more.

[thecryptidhobbies]

SCIENCE SIDE OF TUMBLR

If you are a blog about

Dinosaurs and Prehistoric life

Botany

Mycology

Ecology

Conservation and Self Sustainability

Zoology

Evolution

Or anything along those lines, please interact with this post. I'm looking for more blogs to follow and interact with. I'd also be ecstatic if you replied with any video links, books, sites, podcasts, etc, that I could learn new things from.

I love to research. I love being given things to research. I would greatly appreciate anything out there! I'm currently watching a lot of Professor Dave Explains and Crash Course videos on YouTube. I've listened in on a few lectures as well.

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

Okay, 3 days left.

MOST SUGGESTED CHARACTER TIME!

Also the apple and bapelsin basically stands for said category. Apple is anime, western cartoons, and video games associated with anime. Bapelsin is live action, books/comics, and video games not associated with anime.

1. Donquixote Rosiante (one piece) 10, apple

2. Garmadon (Lego ninjago): 9, apple

3. Eddie Diaz & Dave (9-1-1): 9, bapelsin

4. John Silver (treasure planet): 9 apple

5. All Might/Yagi Toshinori (MHA): 6, apple

6. Bandit Heeler (bluey): 5, western cartoon, apple

7. Heinz Doofeshmirtz (phineas and ferb): 5, western cartoon, apple

8. Greg Universe (Steven universe): 4, western cartoon, apple

9. Professor Utonium (ppg): 4, western cartoon, apple

10. Bob Blecher (bobs burgers): 4, western cartoon, apple

11. Din Djarin (mandalorian): 3, live action, bapelsin

12. Paul Blofis (Percy Jackson), 3, bapelsin

13. Subject Delta (bioshock): 3, video game, bapelsin

14. Reigen Arakata (mod psycho 100): 3, anime, apple

15. Maes Hughes (FMA): 3, anime, apple

16. Phoenix Weight (ace attorney): 3, apple

17. God (bible): 3, apple

18. Jean Valjean (les mis) 2, bapelsin

19. Bobby Nash (911): 2, bapelsin

20. Yosuke Koiwai (Azumanga Daioh): 2, apple

21. Sojiro Sakura (persona): 2, apple (anime)

22. Doctor Venomous (OK, KO): 2, apple

23. Waymond Wang (everywhere everything all at once): 2, bapelsin

24. Hans Hubermann (the book thief): 2, bapelsin

25. Calvin’s dad (Calvin and Hobbes): 2, bapelsin

26. Augustus Aquato (psychonauts): 2, bapelsin

27. Benjamin Sisko (DS9): 2, bapelsin

28. Gomez’s Addams (Addams Family): 2, bapelsin

29. Simon Petrikov/Ice King (adventure time): 2, apple

30. Splinter/Lou Jitsu (TMNT): 2, apple

31. Pyrrha dve (the locked tomb): 2, bapelsin

32. Seteth (fire emblem): 2, apple

33. Iruka Umino (Naruto): 2, apple

34. Joel (the last of us: Pedro pascal version): 2, bapelsin

35. Kiryu Kazuma (Yakuza): 2, bapelsin

36. Uncle Iroh (avatar): 2, apple

37. Kaname Date (AI: Somnium files): 2, apple

38. Drake Millard (dark wing duck): 2, apple

39. Lee Everett (the walking dead, video game): 2, bapelsin

40. Hadoka (ATLA): 2, apelsin

41. Dustan Thorn (stardust): 2, bapelsin

Extra stuff

Basic Code Of Conduct

Current Phase and Propaganda Explained

AND HERE IS THE FORM

Reminder the ask box is always open if you need to ask anything and also. Please don’t use the Anon asks to correct me on spelling or grammar. English is my second language so if I mess up something just tell me straight ahead. You’re not rude for correcting me (unless it’s really passive aggressive)

Oh wait, what is this…?

Yeah these 5 men are getting in because why not! Those are Bruno Bucciarati & Norisuke higashikata IV (jjba), Bamse (bamse), Barret Wallace (ffvii) and Pollination Tech #9 Smith (sims 2)

[capitalism-is-parasitism]

Working Press AM Quickie | The American Prospect | Arena | BOLTS | Capital & Main | Chalkbeat NYC | The City | Common Dreams | The Conversation | The Daily Yonder | Cory Doctorow | Damage | Digby's Hullabaloo | Dissent | Drop Site News | Gothamist | Grist | The Guardian US, UK, AU | Hakai | The Hollywood Reporter | In These Times | The Indypendent | Inequality.org | The Intercept | Jacobin | Ken Klippenstein | KFF Health News | Knowable | Labor Notes | MacGuffin | The Marginalian | The Marshall Project | Michael Hudson | Middle East Eye | Minnesota Reformer | Mother Jones | The Narwhal | New Left Review | New York Focus | ProPublica | Psyche | ScienceAlert | This | Variety | The Village Voice | Vox | The Walrus | Zócalo Public Square | The 74 | +972

2024 BOLTS Election Guide | Judicial Review Tool NYC | Palestine Congress Vienna 2024 | The States Project Podcasts Bad Empanada | Brandon Sutton | David Feldman | ESVN | Left Reckoning | The Letterhack | The Majority Report with Sam Seder* | Matt Binder | Owen Jones | The Rational National | Second Thought | The Serf Times

Nota bene Acronym Finder | Electricity Calculator | Electronic Frontier Foundation | How's My Driving NYC | List of publications and their leanings | Livestream Nature | Open Culture | Progressive Talent Pipeline | Right to Repair | Scaffolding Map NYC | Science Fiction Roundups |States Project | Women's Press Collective | World Inequality Database | Wordle Tips | Wordly

Funny/Useful YouTube Channels Bobby Fingers | Chris Kohler News | CinemaSins | Dark Brandon | The Elephant Graveyard | Professor Dave Explains *Arthur Goldwag interview 27 June 2024 / Corporate control of the government 19 August 2024 **"Only Connect…" by Howard Send #1, #2

[oliviabutsmart]

[Bonus Physics Friday?] Plagiarism and Originality

So you (the reader) may have watched the recent HBomberGuy video. I have too! And it's honestly a great (yet long watch). I highly recommend you read it.

After reading the video, it inspired me to add my own comments onto what I think is important to keep in mind about plagiarism and it's relevancy to this blog.

Unintentional Plagiarism

You yourself may eventually have to write something in the future. Whether it be code, a school/university project, text/literature, or even an academic paper.

I'm certain you've had some anxiety in the past (usually in school) of "what if I wrote something that was plagiarised?" when submitting documents to your teachers.

This anxiety often arises because when you are doing an academic assignment, the subject matter has already been covered many times over, so many times you may end up stumbling your way into writing something that already exists.

It is, in fact, possible to unintentionally plagiarise. But it often comes in a different form.

As seen in his video, often times, creators end up sharing video techniques and ideas when creating new work. More broadly, a lot of our art or 'content' in-general is in some-form derivative.

Here's an example from my own posts, expressing a very common cycle in how we develop our opinions or knowledge on things:

You hear from someone, or in a video, or by reading in a book a particular opinion/fact/idea/expression

You keep the idea in your head but forget the source you found it from

Eventually, months to years later, you recall the idea you had and write it down in a public place

You don't credit the source of the idea because it's lost to your mind, you think you yourself came up with the idea

This gives the idea that your ideas are completely original, but are instead pulled from another source. This is what I mean by "unintentional plagiarism" - often you yourself don't even know it's happening.

After writing 16 Physics Friday posts, I can now at least recall a few times where this has happened to me. Usually by way of me re-watching a video or seeing a video on youtube after the fact, where I'm like:

"Hey, I remember watching this video ... Hey, this is where I got that idea from!"

There are two examples that I can list right now, in fact:

In post #8, the definition of "Energy is the capacity to do work" came from a video by 'Professor Dave Explains'' on youtube. I cannot recall which video I got it from, but I do know it was a debunk

The idea for post #9 came from a video by 'Answer in Progress' titled "how fahrenheit fails you"

In both examples, either small sentence-level statements or whole topic ideas effectively get "copied" by my mind. However there is a core distinction between what I have labelled as unintentional plagiarism, and real "you did a word crime" plagarism.

Our Textual Fingerprint

It is a fact that almost all of our ideas are copied from somewhere else. Teachers in high school, internet pundits, other posts on social media. These, combined with our cycle of forgetting the source, create an effect of "plagarism"

What's important is that all of these ideas amalgamate, and get filtered through our own brain. I might have gotten the "energy is the capacity to do work" definition from one guy, but it combines itself in my head with every other association and factoid about energy I know.

Not just that, but it filters through my own head and my own words into different explanations, different expressions, different language.

The way you yourself construct ideas in your head is why we can consider it okay to express an idea that is still somewhat derivative. Because our own words, our own expressions garble that idea into something that is distinctly our own.

And that's the core point about avoiding plagiarism, both unintentional and intentional.

The best way to avoid plagiarism is to write it in your own words Source: every teacher in high school

Every person possesses a sort-of fingerprint. It exists in the way we write, the way we talk, even the way we communicate in other mediums like auditory (music, speech) or visual (performance, artistic, video) formats.

This fingerprint is detectable to most people. It's how you can tell when someone uses AI to write an article. Because ChatGPT has it's own literary footprint.

If my next Physics Friday post was written by someone else, you would be able to tell. Because the way I write is distinct. The errors, the mannerisms, the explanations are all constructed in a way that make the way I write unique to others.

Why does plagiarism happen?

I've seen plenty of examples of plagiarism in the past. In fact, I remember in Year 9, someone copied my entire essay on Australia's role in WWI, and I got off with a slap on the wrist for being so naive to share it with another student.

And with this experience, I've found that there are two main reasons why someone plagiarises, at least in the academic realm:

They have a lack of respect for the subject matter or their victim

Laziness or apathy

This is something the above video makes a point of as well, adding on a drive for success. Something which I wouldn't say is as common in academic media.

Really, the best way to stop yourself from stooping to the level of intentionally plagiarising is one of two things:

Force yourself to write something original, to write in your own words

Don't write it. Take a break or reconsider why you feel the need to do it

This is often why I end up writing opinion posts. I'd rather do that than be a piece of shit and copy a Veritasium video. Seriously, it's so tempting to just do a topic that Veritasium has already covered - he's a great creator and always picks all the good topics.

How it's relevant to Physics Friday (And how Wikipedia is actually a decent source)

All of my Physics Friday posts are written in my own words, usually all at once or in two seperate sessions on Friday. There is occasionally the odd quote from Wikipedia or other online sources. But the text is usually my own.

I mostly use other internet sources, like Wikipedia, or others, to effectively re-jog my memory. It helps remind me of what a particular mechanism is.

I don't cite them because usually I only read small sentences and then go "ah, now I recall the textbook's worth of information stored in my head". My external research never ends up becoming a real source in a proper sense.

The only exception is Wikipedia and my own lecture notes.

While my posts are not copy-paste descriptions from Wikipedia, the website does help guide me on particularly difficult-to-understand subjects. It helps me decide what exactly to talk about. Or check which ideas are often more common.

One example is the dark matter post (#4). I used it as my primary source for deciding on what was the most notable dark matter candidates to talk about. And the section headers are derived in some way from their article.

You can generally assume that for all of my physics posts, I have used Wikipedia in some way as a knowledge-check, to ensure I'm not spitting nonsense.

In fact, I recommend Wikipedia as further reading after looking at my post if interested. And to donate to their organisation, which I have done on several seperate occasions.

Definitions and Single-Sentence Quotes

Outside of images, the most common place where I directly quote from other sources are in the definitions I've used. I cannot actually remember if I've ever done it before on tumblr, but I've done it in the past for several academic writings.

Definitions are tricky. Because, especially with precise scientific definitions, there are only so many ways to construct a definition that:

Removes all ambiguity from the phenomenon

Perfectly describes all or most instances of the thing, and excludes any non-instance of the thing

If I'm not coming up with the definition myself, I generally aim to find the source of the definition. Something that already fails in some ways, as explained above.

The Easy Part: Citing a Source

When writing academic papers, sources are probably the most annoying part of it. Bibliography management is a pain.

When writing these Physics Friday posts, citing is the easiest thing I can do. There's no requirement to follow a strict standard like the APA.

Often giving the author's name or a link to the original content is enough information to credit the author.

This is why you see an image credit or video credit under each of my Physics Friday posts. Sometimes also on meme posts too!

Should we cite our memes?

This is an interesting question. No seriously. Take a second to think about this question properly.

A lot of our memes (and porn) come from artists on youtube, twitter, tumblr, etc. And I have found countless times where I'm like "huh, I like this guys' work ... where can I find more of it?" and just turn up nothing.

We appear to think that memes are not just public domain, but un-creditable public domain. Someone on youtube can copy a guy's voice-over of a meme, turn on ads for that video, and rake in cash. The original artist ends up getting none of the credit, or money.

For a lot of memes, it makes sense to copy it without credit. But the above paragraph applies to a certain subsection of memes, particularly the higher-effort ones.

Personally for me, when I have the capacity to share a meme I try to credit the original artist. Because I believe that person deserves the credit for making the funny.

At least for us, credit means we ourselves gain from it, we can look up the original and find more of the same.

My posts aren't trademarked

It's obvious to say, but "Physics Friday" is not limited to me. My goal with these posts are to get other people into following on and making their own style of posts in physics. To generally bolster the community.

If you want to do the Physics Friday thing, you do not need to ask for permission. That's all I need to say.

Conclusion: Why did I write this?

I've just spent the last hour writing a tumblr post after watching a HBomberGuy video. And now I am just wondering why I did that.

I guess I had a lot of things to say about plagiarism and writing your own work.

Oh well.

Look out for next Friday where I'll probably do an opinion piece on tau vs pi!

[frostbite-yinny]

YINNY RATES MAN EPISODE TWO: @professor-amaryllis

WELL WELL WELL. First of all, I would like to start this episode by saying that I catered for his and Dave's wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony. They are such a nice person. Also, I would like to say they use they/he pronouns but I'll be mostly using 'he' pronouns because my keyboard is fucking crazy and freaks out <3

Welcome everyone to; Yinny Rates man~ episode 2

Amy Amaryllis; The wild guy turned Pokemon proffesor aged like fine wine

Yes, this 'Daddy issues good ending' male lead. Look at that ekans shirt. Look at his dress shirt and assassin haircut. Sadly, the 1 point he got by being exactly 10 years older than me is imminently crossed off by the fact he is 5'5. I like my man with issues, and what better way to build character than getting bullied in middle school by getting called a girafarig.

For one too many times, I got drunk with handstand shots at a frat boy's party and watched this guy's show piled on a couch smoking things I would rather not say in public. High girls LOVE their funky clothes and watching him wrestle with Krookodile's. If that's real. Might be a fever dream I dunno the only thing I know is I watched the whole show and it was fucking amazing. 10/10 would do it again with no hesitation. I would try to do it sober this time.

Now back to the daddy issues good ending part. I would like you to observe the kind and heartfelt way he is looking at those babies. Look at the compassion in them. I would like you to take a second to drink it in. This man would give you the male validation your father never did without it being weird. I would like to simp harder but this pure-hearted golden man doesn't deserve any type of filth coming anywhere near him.

Get yourself a man who is as stylish as him. Beautiful pink skirt, matching scarf with a yellow blouse, AND an Ekans walking stick????? Well, Dave hit the jackpot. ALSO when I got drunk and asked him about the shit in meowstick ears they just said I must be having a good time and calmly explained it to me with a warning not to touch their ears.

I would let this short beefcake ruin my life only if they let me pet Beans the internet celebrity Zorua.

Okey my mom went to the other room let me real quick: He looks like the main character of a 'One had a flower shop and one had a tattoo shop romance' and you will never know which one he is running. He is the mom friend of the group everyone secretly has a little crush on. The hair is ON POINT and combined with those clothes?????? a solid 10 pls give me fashion advice. They have done nothing wrong in their lives. If I saw them slaughter a man with their bare hands I would lock myself in an asylum because this man had never been wrong not even once in his life and I must have gone crazy.

I like pathetic man. This guy is a ray of sunshine in a pathetic world.

Yes, please continue restoring out faith in humanity, king. We need it.

Final verdict: 8/10 he is a spectacular person that does NOT deserve to be in this show. I know when someone is above this shit. 2 points off because he is not evil or ridiculously old or has issues.

(BTW ALL PICS ARE CREDITED TO @professor-amaryllis THEY MADE THEM AND GAVE ME PERMISSION TO USE THEM)