Okay. The dream: Somehow I was in a club. Fancy. Private? VIP room? I dunno.
All I know is... there were a small group of us, mostly girls. I think I cast many of my current tv crushes in there. There were just two of us 'dancing' (let's say 'on the dancefloor' to be more accurate).
In dreams reality is something else, so... the person filming was both Emma Stone and Ian Somerhalder, don't ask me how. On a camera phone. Filming me, doing something it would be a crime to call dancing, while Alex O'Loughlin was doing jell-o body shots off of me. While 'dancing'. To a mix of Drive and Sweat and Sexy and I Know It. Or during all those songs, idek.

...

HOLY CRAP!!

I mean, I'm glad my brain is giving me those gifts every once in a while. But at the same time, I feel like a pervert.
Also... I'm not sure how to take the fact that my subconsicous is basically telling me "A) You may have an exhibitionist kink. B) You need to get laid.".
The fact that Drive is one of my favorite songs is probably a tell that I should be locked up already...

Anyway, I thought I'd share. May make some of you laugh. :P
And somehow, I've now got this piece of shiny stuck in my head.

There are multiple aspects to a sub/dom relationship. There is the obvious: one is the master, one is the 'pet' or the slave. After that, it can varry. In some situation that can be reflected in the form or psychological control through order giving, or physical control. There are cases of humiliation, various animal play, and, what interests me here today... pain.

The use of pain isn't necessary. Just as humiliation, just as anything else. It's a common misconception. But, recently, I've had a lightblub moment about the aspect of pain.

Now, the control part has never been difficult to understand for me. In my daily life I like to control things. Not everything, but I like to know where I'm going (in my studies, in my career, for example), and as much as I can decide on the spot to do something, I don't like when others drop unexpectedly on me when I've got something planned. It annoys me.
I've seen people that are utter control freaks. I frofoundly understand the attractiveness of completly handing over control to someone else, for ten minutes, for one hour, just so you can relax because... you are not in charge. Nothing, absolutely nothing depends on you and you cannot do anything unless allowed(physically) or told to.
It's a bubble out or your life and your self. You have no personality to express because you've been stripped of even that for the time being. The worries, the guilt you have faced with the current conflicting situations in your life? Gone. You can't act on the conflicts, someone else decides for you. Ergo: they all wash away.
Also, the fact that you are controled.. means that there is someone that owns you. In a personal relationship (not you going to a dungeon to someone you pay), how flatering is it to have someone that wants you that bad? Because being a master is not only about giving orders, it's also about caring for everything during the playtime. It's a form of worship, a lot of doms will say they see it that way. (of course, I'm speaking in a context that is otherwise loving and not abusive, I know very happy couples that engage in master/pet dynamics in private and no one suffers from it. Well, actually, in one case, after seven years the master is still panicked at the idea that he's not good enough and his boyfriend may leave him someday. Adorable.)
Like I said, I may express it clumsily, but this is a part that's always been very easy to get behind.

Humiliation... I can understand that some people like it. (I honestly understand better taking it than inflicting it. That would make me feel dirty.) Taking crap (possibly litterally) and walking away standing up can be empowering. I guess.
Not my thing.

Now for the pain.

I'm possibly what you may label as 'kinky'. I don't like pain, I don't seek it out. But, in intimate moments, I can fathom it giving a bit of an edge, a sharpness to what's happening. I like it rough. Not all the time, but it happens. It can be really fun.
Anyone who's had angry!sex or what I call hungry!sex (when what you've had to scratch has long gone past an itch) will get what I mean.

Now, for the part I had somewhat of a 'huh, makes sense' moment on, I need to get sidetracked for a moment.

I was in the shower. It always happens in the shower for two reasons: one, it's the moment I'm not listening to anything and I can think. Lucky for me, since hot water is actually pleasant to me and I'm usually in the company of a very wet, very furry, very ridiculous looking cat, my thoughts never go darkside. And two, because I'm obviously naked in the shower, which allows me to go 'Hey, that's right. I have tats.' 

I have tree to date. A small one on the ankle I aquiered at 18, a bigger one (which you guys call a tramp stamp, obviously, that makes me cringe) on the small of my back that spreads to about half way on each side, and a cursive one (which only initiated people can read and get) running on the side of my rib cage, from the curve of my waist up to armpit height on the shoulder blade so that it peeks out loose tank tops. They're listed chronologically. I seem to always go for painful spots.

When I had the one on my lower back, the artist kept telling me to stop tensing up. Everytime he put the needles back on my skin, I'd tense up hard so that I wouldn't duck or move and make him do a wrong move. But the tensing up was already a dangerous jerk.

So when I went to get my rib one, which I knew was going to be a bitch. I tried to zen myself out. I warned the artist that I may react this way, and she was allowed to tell me off and lean on me or even strap me, because I'd rather be restrained and uncomforable, than have a squiggle on me forever.
I was lying on my side on the table and worked mentally. I pictured myself lying in front of a fire, and thought about the feel of the flames dancing, sending little flares of warmth irregularly on my exposed skin. She worked on the ink and it was indeed, painful. Very, in some places. But it was oddly distant. I had zoned out a little bit, and it felt very numb, very far away, like I'd left my body behind and was informed of what was happening, but not really living it.
By the end, she laughed at me and asked me if I had been kidding when I warned her about tensing up. Why? Because I'd fallen asleep!
Now, most of people who know me known that I have intense problems sleeping. I cannot be aware I'm falling alseep or else I have an anxiety attack. I need to have something running and getting my mind of things (these days, I've been going through CSI episodes, I often do books on tape, too). I listen, very quiet, until I dose off.
And I fell asleep when I was supposed to tense up?
Another thing about me. I may love yoga and find it helps with my emotional balance a lot, I am not into visualizing crap and opening my chakras or whatever. I can't physically do meditation exercises. I get bored, annoyed and I giggle because it's just way too slow for my racing brain.
And I stood back up from the tattooing table feeling like a lazy cat. It was as if I'd actually spent those hours lying in front of a fire, and gotten a full body massage on top of that. Curious, right? Really not what I expected to feel like either.
My conclusion: the pain is a focus point. A little bit like listening to a book on tape allows me to push my thoughts away and go blank, the pain that I concentrated on forgetting about at first allowed me to reach a zen stage that I can never, ever obtain otherwise.
I don't find it strange, actually. It simply just occured to me now.

I don't feel the need to seek it out, but I can't exclude the idea that someday I will. I remember the high, the fucked out feeling it gave me, during and for a long while after. Yes, of course, it makes even more sense now why some people would willingly ask (beg?) someone to inflict pain on them if the outcome is this.

It wasn't exactly a 'duh' moment like a said. More like 'oh'. "Oh. I get it."

You may be completely bored with this post if you've read that far. That's it, that's all I had to reflect on. Care to react? Have an opinion on the subject? I'm interested! Leave a comment bellow and make me really happy! ^^

I just thought the lighting and the little smile were just perfect. Just like Castle, all throughout the episode.

*headslaps the boys*
Has any one of you Salvatores actually listened to what Elena says?
She said she can't pick because she doesn't want to lose either of you. So what you establish in reaction is... a pact to MAKE SURE that if she does pick, she WILL lose one of you.
Ergo. Now she's never gonna pick!

Come on, guys. You have a history of sacrifising yourselves for each  other. Why stop now? Why just, one more time, be miserable for her. Like you've done, since day one. By that I mean "If she picks you, I'll stay. I'll shut up about it and be happy for you. Hey, how many strippers do you want for your bachelor party?"
No?
Too hard?

Alright, then.
I'm surprised, really... Damon, you're the first one to make the "how many desecated hybrids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" joke... But, in reaction to "I can't pick." you didn't go "Threesome, anyone?" right away? Dude, you disapoint me.
After all, it's just what y'all been doing for over a year now... except without the fun. *headdesk*

Wait. I loved the episode. I mean, Misha's involved, Castiel's here so... it rocks. Plus, there was actually main plot progress, so... yay!

But... two questions (for now): 1. What's with (suposedly) Bobby pushing the tin cup away from Dean?
Was it alcohol? Or water? Is that an old man's ghost's way to say 'it's not drinkable'?

2. The ending. What happened to "Each prophet has an archangel attached to it"? Because that would be handy right about when a Leviathan is prophetnapping you.