i thought that description was an exaggeration

Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix

Mon Cœur S'ouvre à Ta Voix | It’s taken Dan a year to work up the courage to really discover why he keeps slipping into something he doesn’t fully understand, but now that he’s discovered that he’s not alone, he’s ready to find a solution, even if that does mean accepting a Dom into his life. Thank God Phil is there to save him when things seem like they’re about to go wrong. | Includes petplay, rimming, praise!kink, suggested attempted!rape but no full attempts, hyperventilating&minor panic attacks, implied aftercare. | Phan | Mature | 15,115 Words

Written for @kinkyhux for the @phanficexchange 

(A03 Link)

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

***Website borrowed and used as a writing tool for the terms/questions asked. Any facts regarding the reliability and safety of the test are exaggerated and made up for the sake of the character’s use of the site. Any and all of Dan’s early thoughts regarding submissive’s etc… are necessary misunderstandings for the fic, and not to be taken as an accurate description of what being a submissive is; they are merely an attempt to encompass common misconceptions that even someone doing research might find themselves falling into, especially when confused about themselves, and navigating the scene alone.***

For as much research and as many questions as I asked in order to make this story as good a representation of pet play as I could, I can’t promise full accuracy or that this is a proper demonstration of this aspect of the bdsm scene. I’ve been told over and over again that every person’s experience is different, and that’s something I hope to pose to the reader’s to keep in mind. I am not a dom/sub/switch etc…myself, and I sincerely hope that I did not offend anyone in my portrayal of Dan as a submissive pet, or Phil as a Dom. I really hope this meets your expectations, kinkyhux. I had more fun with this than I could ever say <3

Title by Muse: I belong to you

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yodas-yo-yo  asked:

I took Stiles 'obliterated toe' comment to be Stilesean hyperbole tbh, so if it isn't and he's lost a toe then I'm pissed. Other than that, I can make my peace (and even enjoy) the slapstick nature of the bridal carry scene as long as before that they make it crystal clear that Stiles has a major role in clearing Derek with the FBI. Because in my mind at least that will provide balance. idk if we'll get that though :/

Yeah, I really don’t think we’ll get any real closure on the FBI issues, and I doubt we’ll get any more Sterek than was mentioned :/

And I mean… the thing is, I’m not sure how he could not have lost his toe? Toes are small; if one’s shot I think it’s pretty much a goner. And if it wasn’t his toe but somewhere on his foot, then wouldn’t he be stuck walking with a longterm, if not permanent, limp? The only other option, I guess, is if a bullet grazed him, hitting the edge of his shoe and barely touching him, but that kind of makes “Stiles the helpless human who needed to be carried out” even worse, doesn’t it? If he wasn’t even really injured but was screaming in agony and couldn’t walk?

In order to leave Stiles with any speck of dignity whatsoever, I think we’ll have to accept that he either lost a toe (so yeah, he’d have been in legitimate serious pain) or that Derek’s described scene of Stiles screaming is exaggerated –– though the fact that Stiles apparently agrees with Derek’s description (defending his screaming instead of arguing it) makes it hard to accept that.

I just… I can’t deal with that having happened, ok?

If it went down something like–– Stiles actually is helping an injured Derek as shown in the first flashback, until a hunter (FBI person? Are hunters actually involved in this sequence because I thought yes but now I’m not so sure. Who is the FBI even fighting??) aims at Stiles, Derek sees it and grits his teeth, sweeping Stiles up protectively before he can protest, and Stiles gets grazed in the foot, letting out a shocked shout. Derek snorts, starting to jog forward despite his own injuries, ignoring Stiles’ demands to put him down. Stiles rolls his eyes eventually and braces his gun over Derek’s shoulder, giving them cover fire while Derek runs them to safety.

That I could accept.

Nightwing/ Dick Grayson X Reader X Red Hood/ Jason Todd- Love Toxin (Part 3)

When I saw the request for a batsis to betray them, I immediately thought of this story.  This does include the Batfam!  I decided to post this today because of the next request, and you guys know how much I love the Arkhamverse.

Part 1, Part 2

Warning: Swearing, description of injuries/pain, fighting

Ever since that night, you were relieved from patrol by Bruce and even Alfred.  You loved that old man to bits, but you felt like they were over exaggerating what Ivy did to you.  Yeah, your entire DNA was rewritten, but you felt fine.  As the days progressed into a week, you started to notice little changes your body was experiencing.  Scars were disappearing, old wounds and achy joints were fixed like they weren’t there, and this scared the shit out of you.  You knew that if you told Bruce, Alfred or any of the boys, your chances of getting out of the manor would diminish.  Soon after you noticed your injuries healing, your dreams were starting to get affected by whatever Ivy did to you as well, and because of this you weren’t able to sleep.  It was actually weird that you didn’t feel tired after you gave up on sleeping, you actually felt more energized when you were outside for your usual run around Bruce’s property.  The only thing you were thankful for was that there were no plants growing out of your ass.

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anonymous asked:

Do you think there are ever people who 'cannot be typed?' Occasionally, I'll come across a person who just doesn't stand out in one way or another and I am unable to determine their dominant function. They're very ordinary and do not sound like any of the types (or if they do, it's a stretch). Maybe it's because type descriptions are so exaggerated in how they label people, and famous examples are usually extreme (i.e. Einstein being INTP really sets high expectations for the average INTP). thx!

Whoops, I thought INTP Mod was doing this ask ok

There are a few basic things that might keep you from being able to type someone, but yes, everyone has a type.

  1. Not knowing them well enough: You can’t usually tell the type of someone without listening to them talk, work, and/or interact with others. You need to pay attention to what they say and do. You say that some
  2. Typing based on stereotypes: Not all ESFJs walk around with plates of cookies. You have to dig deeper into what makes them tick.
  3. Not using the cognitive functions: If you type solely by letter and not the functions, you will be wrong. Read up on the cognitive functions, and don’t just peg everyone who’s punctual as a J.
  4. Having characteristics associated with many types: Any type can be nice, smart, funny, or sarcastic. That’s not what MBTI is about. It’s about how they think and make decisions. You need more information than an elementary school student evaluation. 

In conclusion, know the functions, and be observant. Hope this helped; happy typing!

- INFP Mod

okay so something i’ve been noticing as i look for daddy kink fics for the masterlist: the use of the phrases “this is sin” “pure sin” “im so sorry” “sinful” etc 

this is so beyond annoying and just extremely offense. saying gay sex is sinful is horribly offensive, the same things aren’t said about the most kinky het fics there are. it’s very much an issue surrounding gay fanfiction. this has to stop. 

out of two page of fics i’ve looked at so far at least half of those (and im not exaggerating) mentioned something about the fics being sinful. please just be mindful of the quick and silly things you say because they affect people. 

it’s gotten to a point where very soon i personally won’t be posting fics that say anything of the sort in the tags or descriptions. 

i really don’t mean to be an asshole, or even make people feel bad it’s just frustrating to see so often so i thought i’d say something. -Madi

anonymous asked:

what or how do you think Dally's eyes actually look like? like I'm having a hard time digesting the icy hard blue thing, but maybe it's me? it makes me picture him always looking through narrow ice chips. like in all seriousness. thoughts?

Just another example of how unrealistic he was LMAO. Being that blonde it is fairly likely that he’d have blue eyes, but that description
was a super exaggeration.

The use of “icy” can be interpreted as almost white fucking blue or cold, unforgiving. I’m gonna go with the latter. They’re probably a somewhat light blue color and very penetrating, mean.

I don’t really picture his eyes being a blue/green color despite it also being equally as likely. I do think his eyes were a very memorable feature about him, though, whether it being because they were striking and attractive or just because they’re so cold.

I imagine them to be a pretty light blue color. But nothing shocking and exotic, I don’t even think they’d be such a big deal if they weren’t so bitter as I said. I don’t think people stop and stare into his eyes because of the color, if that makes more sense. Honestly, I’m more into Darry’s like fuck me up.

anonymous asked:

I need help understanding the exact definition of purple prose. I thought it was when someone uses lavish language to the point a passage becomes unreadable without excessive effort. To me there is only one "kind" of purple prose, and that's when most people can't read someone's writing because the vocabulary and such is just too "out there". Some people seem to define it as simply using more lavish or descriptive language than normal, which is something I do. Do you have any thoughts on this?

I think that some people do have slightly differing definitions of what purple prose really is. Going to dictionary.com, their definition of it is:

“Writing that calls attention to itself because of its obvious use of certain effects, as exaggerated sentiment or pathos, especially in an attempt to enlist or manipulate the reader’s sympathies.” 

The definition in itself is a lot to take in, really, which I find particularly fitting for the topic. I personally see purple prose as being like you said, when someone has ‘fluffed up’ their writing to a point where it becomes impossible to understand or read. I know that Anne Rice has been describe by some as using purple prose and I would have to agree, as I attempted to read one of her novels and struggled to actually get past the first few pages because it felt too busy with the use of unnecessary words. I have seen some writers who, while of course doing their best to write replies, have left their writing difficult to read due to excessive words that don’t necessarily need to be there. But at the end of the day, that is a personal choice for someone’s writing. It’s not for everyone, but that’s the same with everything. 

I don’t think that what you claim to do should count as purple prose, but in some cases I find the line between the two can be thinner than in other cases. Being very descriptive can get excessive sometimes, but I don’t think that it should fall under the blanket term of purple prose unless it gets to the point where, as you have said, it becomes unreadable. 

Does anyone else have any opinions on their own definitions of purple prose? Do you find it’s a clear cut term or can it vary a little? 

— mod Louise

anonymous asked:

on myrtle's description of malfoy do you really feel that malfoy really had no friends in slytherin and they bullied him? or is this just her exaggerating because he might have charmed her somehow? who is draco malfoy that isn't seen through the eyes of harry potter?? thoughts? 😃

you’re referring to the He’s sensitive, people bully him, too, and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings and cry line right? personally i don’t think myrtle’s talking about his house-mates bullying him, because even though it isn’t explicitly mentioned how the slytherins feel about him at that time (other than pansy and crabbe and goyle being impressed by the fact that draco was chosen to carry out a task for the dark lord himself, which he told them on the train) i really can’t imagine his friends not sticking with him because he distanced himself. what draco had to do required effort, especially mental effort, and time, so the isolation he had to go through was just a side-effect of that, not something the slytherins or even his friends deliberately inflicted on him. i think the bullying she’s talking about and her behaviour in general is the result of draco not being able to tell her the whole story. like he probably told her that he was lonely and sad, and that a group of people was making him do terrible things he’s found he’s not capable of, but i don’t think he told her exactly who that was and why, and what succeeding in this mission meant. and, as for the second question, i don’t really think draco had to charm her at that point. look at it like that: myrtle is really, really sensitive, and she gets quickly attached to people who treat her decently. harry took her seriously, and that’s all it took for her to like him. she rarely gets any visitors because most people can’t stand her, and she wants somebody to talk to. so now, draco enters, opens up to her because he doesn’t have anybody else, tells her about his fears, his sadness, his isolation, cries openly, tells her that some people are forcing him to do things he doesn’t dare to talk about. so, myrtle sees herself in draco. she’s been bullied all the time when she was at school and she knows what it feels like, which makes her idolise draco and, in some way, romanticise his visitis and their conversations. she doesn’t know the whole truth, but trusts draco enough to defend him like she did, like justifying his crying and seeing bravery in it, all because she can relate to him (maybe also because she’s pretty emotional and desperate for earnest social interaction). at least that’s how i understood it. and we all know harry’s as observant as a brick wall, like he was really shocked to see malfoy cry but sliced him open literally 2 minutes later 

// There are so many people that I’ve met over the years who have abandoned their blogs for one reason or another and have gone somewhere else. Tonight, I remembered a certain Ygritte blog I admired a great deal when I was in the ASOIAF fandom three or four years ago. She was an incredibly talented writer who write everything including her ooc stuff in Ygritte’s voice and captured her character perfectly.

The thing that I always admired about the way she wrote was how she could take something very simple and make it complex without needlessly clogging the text with description. When she wrote a reply or a starter, it read like a chapter or a page from a novel. You could see, smell, taste, and touch everything that Ygritte did during the course of the reply. It was so unbelievably real and beautiful that I thought for the longest time that she was a professional writer who was trolling us all.

I think that it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that she elevated the quality of the writing in that fandom to new heights or made so many of us take a critical look at our writing so that we could figure out what we were doing wrong and then improve from there. She was tremendous influence on so many of us that were there on 2013 and 2014, but she left just like so many others never to be heard from again.

Another writer that I’m thinking about in this respect is a Roxanne Morton from Kingsman that I followed on different blogs over the course of a year. She was a wonderful writer in her own way. The one thing that always struck me was the way in which she would blend Roxy’s femininity with her definitely unfeminine and rather masculine job. It was very interesting for me to read and it made her character far more three dimensional than she would have been if she had simply stuck to the comics or to the script.

The other reason why I miss this writer is because hse was incredibly kind to all of her followers as well as her duplicates. She went out of her way to make people feel welcome and loved in the Kingsman fandom, even those of us that only had verses there like myself and many, many others. Of course, she is no longer with us anymore either. She deleted her blog earlier this month and has disappeared into the ether as well.

These two writers aren’t the first ones nor the last ones that have disappeared over the four years that I have been here. However, it seems to me that many times the most talented and the most compassionate writers are the ones that get the short end of the stick. Many people do not write with them because they feel intimidated or anxious to make contact with these writers. Others are jealous and are somewhat petty in the way they treat them. Finally, the writers themselves were probably frustrated as well because there wasn’t anyone that measured up to their level and they had to lower their standards in order to write with others.

I cannot talk about the reasons why these two writers left since I don’t know either of them, but what I can say is that we should treat each other better. I’m not talking about call out posts or drama or anything like that. I’m just saying that we should love and cherish and encourage each other as writers, so that we are able to produce our best work for each other. It might not prevent people from leaving, but it might make tumblr a happier place.

I caught sight of a tall male figure standing in the hall, and promptly pulled the bedclothes over my head.

This was a reaction of pure panic, for if it had been the Edinburgh constable or one of his minions, I could scarcely expect much protection from a couple of quilts. But then the visitor spoke, and I was glad that I was safely out of sight for the moment. 

“Jamie?” The voice sounded rather startled. Despite the fact that I had not heard it in twenty years, I recognized it at once. Rolling over, I surreptitiously lifted a corner of the quilt and peeked out beneath it. 

“Well, of course it’s me,” Jamie was saying, rather testily. “Have ye no got eyes, man?” He pulled his brother-in-law, Ian, into the room and shut the door. 

“I see well enough it’s you,” Ian said, with a note of sharpness. “I just didna ken whether to believe my eyes!” His smooth brown hair showed threads of gray, and his face bore the lines of a good many years’ hard work. But Joe Abernathy had been right; with his first words, the new vision merged with the old, and this was the Ian Murray I had known before. 

“I came here because the lad at the printshop said ye’d no been there last night, and this was the address Jenny sends your letters to,” he was saying. He looked round the room with wide, suspicious eyes, as though expecting something to leap out from behind the armoire. Then his gaze flicked back to his brother-in-law, who was making a perfunctory effort to secure his makeshift loincloth. 

“I never thought to find ye in a kittle-hoosie, Jamie!” he said. “I wasna sure, when the … the lady answered the door downstairs, but then—” 

“It’s no what ye think, Ian,” Jamie said shortly. 

“Oh, it’s not, aye? And Jenny worrying that ye’d make yourself ill, living without a woman so long!” Ian snorted. “I’ll tell her she needna concern herself wi’ your welfare. And where’s my son, then, down the hall with another o’ the harlots?” 

“Your son?” Jamie’s surprise was evident. “Which one?” 

Ian stared at Jamie, the anger on his long, half-homely face fading into alarm. 

“Ye havena got him? Wee Ian’s not here?” 

“Young Ian? Christ, man, d’ye think I’d bring a fourteen-year-old lad into a brothel?” 

Ian opened his mouth, then shut it, and sat down on the stool. 

“Tell ye the truth, Jamie, I canna say what ye’d do anymore,” he said levelly. He looked up at his brother-in-law, jaw set. “Once I could. But not now.” 

“And what the hell d’ye mean by that?” I could see the angry flush rising in Jamie’s face. 

Ian glanced at the bed, and away again. The red flush didn’t recede from Jamie’s face, but I saw a small quiver at the corner of his mouth. He bowed elaborately to his brother-in-law. 

“Your pardon, Ian, I was forgettin’ my manners. Allow me to introduce ye to my companion.” He stepped to the side of the bed and pulled back the quilts. 

“No!” Ian cried, jumping to his feet and looking frantically at the floor, the wardrobe, anywhere but at the bed. 

“What, will ye no give your regards to my wife, Ian?” Jamie said. 

“Wife?” Forgetting to look away, Ian goggled at Jamie in horror. “Ye’ve marrit a whore?” he croaked. 

“I wouldn’t call it that, exactly,” I said. Hearing my voice, Ian jerked his head in my direction. 

“Hullo,” I said, waving cheerily at him from my nest of bedclothes. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?” 

I’d always thought the descriptions of what people did when seeing ghosts rather exaggerated, but had been forced to revise my opinions in light of the responses I had been getting since my return to the past. Jamie had fainted dead away, and if Ian’s hair was not literally standing on end, he assuredly looked as though he had been scared out of his wits. 

Eyes bugging out, he opened and closed his mouth, making a small gobbling noise that seemed to entertain Jamie quite a lot. 

“That’ll teach ye to go about thinkin’ the worst of my character,” he said, with apparent satisfaction. Taking pity on his quivering brother-in-law, Jamie poured out a tot of brandy and handed him the glass. “Judge not, and ye’ll no be judged, eh?” 

I thought Ian was going to spill the drink on his breeches, but he managed to get the glass to his mouth and swallow. 

“What—” he wheezed, eyes watering as he stared at me. “How—?” 

“It’s a long story,” I said, with a glance at Jamie. He nodded briefly. We had had other things to think about in the last twenty-four hours besides how to explain me to people, and under the circumstances, I rather thought explanations could wait.


anonymous asked:

do you watch teen wolf? what do you think of the sterek-posey drama?

I have never seen a single episode of Teen Wolf and with all this shit going on, I never plan to.

As far as the drama I keep seeing about Tyler Posey not liking Sterek, good for him for calling fans out on that. It grates my nerves when people watch a show just a for a ship, especially a crack!ship. But I don’t even watch the show, and I don’t like Sterek (namely because of the fandom tied to it).

As an outsider, please realize:

  • I didn’t realize women or POC were on the show until the second half of Season 2.
  • I did not realize that Scott McCall was even on the show until near the end of its second season.
  • By the way people kept bitching about wanting Sterek to be canon and a gay couple on the show, I did not realize there was already queer representation on Teen Wolf until like a month ago.
  • I did not know Danny (Keahu Kahuanui) existed until before Season 3 started.
  • I didn’t know Boyd (Sinqua Walls) existed until he was gone from the show.
  • I didn’t realize Scott McCall was the main character of the show until literally 10 minutes ago. Seriously. I thought people were joking/exaggerating when they said that until I looked up the show description and sure enough, it’s actually supposed to be about Scott McCall.

This is pretty much because all I see is shit about Stiles, Derek or them together. And now I learn Stiles is like 16 and Derek is a grown ass man? Okay.

Nah, any fandom that treats their characters/actors like that can miss me. And Tyler Posey calling them out on that bullshit was like a song to my heart. I hope he does it again and again until they get the message.

There’s So Much More (If You’d Only Look) (10/?)

Summary: She met him second. The question that is always in the back of her mind is what if she’d met him first. Not that it matters. Because  Killan Jones looked right through Emma as if she wasn’t the vital beauty she knew she was.

Chapters 12345678, 9

Emma gave herself a good hard stare in the bathroom mirror. And she liked what she saw.

Killian liked her hair best when it was down. For someone who could have been thought to prefer darker features of the opposite sex, Emma found it amusing that he obviously had a thing for her blonde long locks. His fingers had a way of always slipping around a curl or two…

She hadn’t realized before them that he had bad been a leg man, but it had become obvious fairly early. His hand had a way of traveling the path up and down her leg. Sometimes it was slow- she liked when it was slow. It was those times when her she wished that he would just continue his path upwards. Why would he go any higher?

It the two years that she’d known him, she thought that he had been none the wiser of the woman behind the exterior. How quickly she had found out that that wasn’t the case…

So Emma would wear her hair down tonight. She would wear one of best form-fitting dresses that showed off just enough leg that he seemed to enjoy. She would look beautiful for Killian tonight.

Not that it was any more special than the other nights they had spent together. It was just that things were moving rather smoothly. All except for that one small task of informing Neal…

It was at the top of her list. If only Emma could be one-hundred percent sure that Killian wouldn’t turn tail and run at the prospect of having everything out in the open. She loved him. He knew that. He loved her. They both knew that. So honesty was the only thing that was going to make the situation better. Not ignoring the truth.

Emma heard her phone from the other room. The ring informed her that it was a call and not a text message.

She gave herself one more quick glance in the mirror before she left the bathroom to find it.

Was it Killian? Was he calling to check up on when she would be ready?

No, it wasn’t Killian.

“What’s up, Ruby?” she asked, answering the call immediately. It wasn’t Killian, which made her wonder just how important this call actually was.

“You tore out of this place without giving me the chance to even say goodbye.”

Emma smiled to herself at her friend’s description. It was an exaggeration. Although Killian had been waiting on her…

“There was a lot I had to take care of, that’s all,” she said as she made her way across the bedroom.

“Yeah? I was wondering about that.”

It was Ruby’s tone, an accusatory sound Emma thought, which gave her pause.


There was a moment of silence on her friend’s end. And then she heard the slight huff. She could just imagine Ruby’s face. Big brown eyes giving her a side-glance.

“Was that… Killian that I saw waiting in the parking lot for you? Is he the one who greeted you with this long and intimate-looking hug?”

Emma caught her own eyes in the dresser mirror. Ruby had seen.

“Because I thought I saw you hop into the car and speed off together.”

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