what's beneath

8

before this party a poc on this campus couldn’t even think the word “racism” without being accused of crying wolf. but just like it took a SANDRA BLAND, a TRAYVON MARTIN, and a PHILANDO CASTILE to wake some folks up, this party is what it took to wake this campus up. look. i sent the invite. i wrote it, broke into pastiche’s account, and sent it. it was fascinating to see what was lurking beneath the surface when you were given an excuse to suspend your polite, passive liberalism. i considered it a sociological experiment. and guess what. you proved my point. WINCHESTER, WE GOT A PROBLEM.

# YOUR OTP WILL NEVER

# get an entire episode dedicated to them right after an unanswered proposal because of a car accident  # I asked her to marry me and a truck came out of nowhere # with one of the characters in a coma while pregnant # the two of them singing that they mean the world to each other # and the one who is almost dying singing when you’re on your own, I’ll send you a sign just so you know that I am me, the universe and you# nope, your OTP will never… 

My personal way of separating the types

SUBMITTED by Steve

Since the MBTI system has been in place, there’s been the unavoidable “classifications” of the 16 types. The most widely accepted one is the temperaments (NT, NF, SJ, SP) It works, but definitely has its flaws. Like, do ISTJs and ESFJs really have THAT much in common other than being law-abiding citizens guided by stability? If so, then why aren’t INTJs and ENFJs pitted in the same category? My favorite personal way is the “Pi/Pe/Je/Ji-Dom’’ system. I find that the personality types within these groups tend to operate on a day to day basis more similarly and display more similar behavior. For those who never heard of it, it goes something like this: Perceiving dominants (IxxJ, ExxJ, IxxP, ExxP). The judgment functions then become secondary (Thinking and feeling). So I thought I would summarize them each with their own nifty little title. Disclaimer: This is just my opinion, not gospel, so go ahead and criticize.

Pi-Doms (ISTJ, ISFJ, INTJ, INFJ): The soldiers

-Pi-Doms’ name of their game is ’‘stability”. Their Dominant function absorbs information subjectively and constantly wonders what is the safest route to make it through this life. ISxJs will use their personal experience and compare it when faced with anything new, INxJs will analyze what is beneath the surface of what they are seeing and set their sails for the best path accordingly.

- Their auxiliary function becomes their tool in making their way into this world. IxFJs will tap into the social atmosphere and easily fit in society, even helping their fellow men. While IxTJs will look at the world wondering what is objectively the best course of action in making things happen. 

- Their tertiary function is how they make their personal judgement of things. IxFJs will analyze what makes sense to them objectively, while IxTJ will ponder about their inner motivation and what personally matters to them.

-Their inferior function is a danger zone where they feel everything will spiral downward really fast if they tap into it. ISxJs worry that every new event will lead to disaster and have a hard time dealing with the unexpected, whereas INxJs find the real, immediate sensory world to be somewhat unreliable and dangerous.

Pe-Doms (ESFP, ESTP, ENFP, ENTP): The livewires

-Simply put, Pe-Doms are like letting a kid loose at the zoo, amusement park or toy store and telling them they have “carte blanche” for 24 hours. So of course they will try to squeeze in everything they can during that time period, metaphorically pulling on every lever in sight to see what will happen. 

- Their auxiliary function serves as judgement to decide what they put priority in; emotional matters (ESFP, ENFP) or technical matters (ESTP, ENTP).

- Their tertiary function helps them not to get too carried away with things. ESFPs and ENFPs will wonder what is the best logical course of action (Te) while ESTPs and ENTPs will remind themselves that they belong to a social system and other people matter.

- Their inferior function is like a parent nagging at them, in other words, it breaks their fun. For ENTPs and ENFPs Si is like Mom reminding you to take your sweater outside because it’s cold, even if you don’t want to. While ESTPs and ESFPs, have their Ni dads reminding them to check both sides of the street before crossing it. 

Je-Doms (ESTJ, ESFJ, ENTJ, ENFJ):The leaders

- Je-Doms’ first priority is organization, whether it be people or things. They thus, “attack” the world aggressively which can make them overbearing at times, but in reality they are the pillars of this society. They all evaluate what needs to be done effortlessly and make it happen.

- Their auxiliary function serves as to what route they want to make this happen with ESTJs and ESFJs preferring their personal experience and what has been known to work, whereas ENTJs and ENFJs prefer to focus on the unknown and forge a path to safety. 

- Their tertiary function is better known as the “fun” function. It allows them to let loose and throw their cares away, which they desperately need after all this focus on leading. ESTJs and ESFJs will want to explore new interests in life whereas ENTJs and ENFJs will just…..give in to what they want to do now. But in both cases, they did their homework, and most likely deserve it.

-Their inferior function represents a repressed child crying for help. For ESTJs and ENTJs they have to remind themselves what they emotionally want whereas for ESFJs and ENFJs, they have to learn to take a step back and objectively analyze what’s going, disregarding how they feel about it. 

Ji-Doms (ISTP, ISFP, INTP, INFP): The nomads

- Ji-Doms are all about one thing: Their personal needs and expression of said needs. They focus mostly on their individuality regardless if it fits within the social mold. IxFPs judge things on what makes sense to their inner values, and IxTPs judge things on what just……..makes sense, period. 

- Their auxiliary function allows them to express themselves. ISxPs are more visceral and what to experience life first hand on their own terms. They have a tendency towards a “flashy” appearance (i.e. tattoos, latest designer clothes) INxPs however, have a penchant for a more provocative, upbeat appearance (Purple hair? Why not? It’ll get people guessing…)

- Their tertiary function is really interesting. It makes them take pause and ponder about the deeper implication of things (ISxPs) or remember what has always mattered to them (INxPs). In both cases, it serves as a “safety” zone.

- The inferior function is what all Ji-Doms seem to rebel against. IxFPs find that Te is suffocating and destroys their individuality and freedom whereas IxTPs find that Fe forces them into being someone that they are not. 

How to Be a Pirate (You will be remembered, my dear)
  1. If it is the ocean that sings to you, or the thrill of Aztec treasure, or other kingdom’s riches, know that you cannot go back. Once you set sail, the saltwater will haunt you even if you retire to a desert. There will never be enough golden coins or golden islands that will satisfy you. The life of a pirate is a thirsting life, and it is common knowledge that saltwater does not quench.
  2. Kiss your mother and father’s graves goodbye before you set sail. If the ocean will not be your grave, the gallows are too far from the churchyard to comfort your spirit. Keep your farewells frugal. Better yet, disappear without a word. Legends are not borne out of nostalgia.
  3. Turn a blind eye to the third mate whose hair is bunched into their hat and keeps their chest wrapped tightly under their bleached tunic. Her hands may be small, but they will build callouses just like yours once she scrubs the deck long enough. Bad luck is not the fault of a stowaway woman, and the storms are not her doing—after all, the crew had thrown Jonah into the sea to calm it. You’d be better off watching out for the storm that is the woman. She will put you to shame when she sets fire to your enemies to fight tooth and nail for the freedom she earned.
  4. Treat a mermaid gently if one accidentally gets tangled in your fishing net—comb the hooks out of his hair and don’t curse if he bites your fingers. Offer him your hat to shield his eyes from the sun and answer his questions when he asks in panic why his fingers are wrinkling. If you must chuckle, try to do so silently, so that he does not think are laughing at him. Mermaids are born singers—their egos are easily bruised.
  5. When a man goes overboard in the midst of a storm, throw the rope to him. If he cannot cling onto it, lower yourself in a rowboat to help him from the bobbing waves. But remember to never jump in after him, if he turns away and rides the waves into the deep. Do not blame yourself. You could hold your breath forever and still cannot rescue a drowning man who swims away from a lifesaver.
  6. Whistle while you work. The songs that your mother used to sing you to sleep with are not a curse just because it is from the past. And melodic tales about purple mountains and golden cornfields will stun your mermaid guest—he will ask you again and again how fast horses run, and how do flowers smell like. He will test your patience, but even pirates enjoy basking in Scheherazade’s glory. We all like to be heard other times than when we’re shouting orders.
  7. There is little use in envying your legendary predecessors. Madame Ching and Blackbeard’s skin peeled under the sun just like yours. Legends never feel like legends when their shoulders ache.
  8. You will lose your hand along the way. Some lose their eye, others their foot, others aren’t as lucky and lose their hope. It is all part of chasing the impossible. When the time comes—and it will come, when you are least prepared—there is no shame in weeping. There will never be enough saltwater. Let your mermaid guest dress your wound and see your tears. He will miss your tender palms, and you will miss that sense of safety. But let him treat you; his fingers are nimble and cool to the touch.
  9. When he sings to you the songs of his world and people, do not be overwhelmed—there will always be a part of the ocean that you will never see. The greatest pirates will never know what lies beneath their hull. Most hurl a mermaid out of their sight for fear of deception, and never lit a candle for him to see a dancing flame for the first time, cautioning him to keep his hands to themselves.
  10. Keep your plank short and sturdy—no one wants to walk to their death with shaky knees. No captain can avoid a mutiny, but that does not mean that you did not do something wrong. Which is why without a doubt, when your second mate plunges blindfolded into the sea, your heart will sink right down with him. But a captain is expected to root out betrayal and never betray themselves. Careful—if you catch yourself calling him name when you call all hands on deck, your crew might suspect that you regret it.
  11. Buried gold can afford bejeweled, decadent hooks for where your hand had once been. The richest of pirates can afford hooks of pure gold and a diamond cuff whose reflection can almost replace the spark in your dulled eyes. But they will only ever be hooks, and your mermaid will gasp in pain every time you cut his skin, even if you try to be gentle. He knows that you can’t help it, but don’t get cross if he shies away from you when you come too close. Mermaids are not quite used to love which makes them bleed.
  12. Pirates are not heroes. They kill in order to avoid the gallows. They maroon rather than forgive. All who sail past you will assume the worst of you, and point their cannons at your sails without consideration. It may be easier to live up to their expectations and take up your sword. It is far more exhausting fighting for your nobility.
  13. Your mermaid guest cannot stay for long. The sun scorches his skin, shrivels his scales, cracks his voice. The explosions of your ship’s cannons and your musket rounds piercing the Royal Navy shake him to their core. You can beg all you want, but your hook only hurts him when you try to hold on to him. He will wait until it is nighttime to quietly throw himself overboard. Two of your mates will hold you back from diving after him. They know that they could not save you if you did.
  14. Do not be alarmed when you find yourself under the starlight missing home. Any captain of a loyal crew will be desperately lonely when sailing alone in the wide, treacherous expanse that is one’s own head. I’m afraid, however, that it is too late now to turn back. Your lost hand, or cold, nimble fingers would not be there home waiting for you even if it wasn’t.
  15. Understand that you will never be remembered. Even if your name is emblazoned with fear in every queen’s heart, even if the tales of your terror make every captain shudder. They will not remember the songs you hummed under the moonlight. They will not remember your careful fingers loosening hooks from their hair. Legends are not borne out of love.  

6

“[…] part of me missed touching her. I just missed touching her when I was kind and loving towards her. Like I wanted her to stop crying, and to calm her like she did in the true love scene” - The Stable Boy Audio Commentary

I’m Not His, I’m Yours // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Prompt: Just prepare your eyes for some very dirty filth.

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Jealous!Dylan, Dominant!Dylan, Daddy!Dylan, Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Oral (female on male), Spanking, Daddy Kink, and Swearing.

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Word Count: 4,951

Song: Hands To Myself by Selena Gomez

A/N: THIS IS THE RESULT OF ME AND @failingmemequeen GOING ABSOLUTELY INSANE FOR DADDY DYLAN O’BRIEN. SHE CAME UP WITH THIS IDEA AND TOTALLY ENCOURAGED ME TO WRITE IT SO THANK HER FOR BEING THE BEAUTIFUL PERSON THAT SHE IS. I LOVE YOU MADI DADDY AND ABSOLUTELY ENJOYED PUTTING OUR CONJOINED FANTASIES INTO ONE.

Your name: submit What is this?

Originally posted by spidermanm

“I’m gonna kill them.” Dylan complained over the phone and I laughed at his impatience.

“No, you’re not, baby.” I chuckled, coaxing him the best I could. “It’s just one more day ‘till the weekend. You can survive this, I know it.”

“I swear to God, if either one of them annoys me one more time-”

“Then, I’ll destroy them myself.” I answered and Dylan let out a deep breath.

“I have to go, but I don’t want to hang up on you.” My boyfriend groaned over the line. “Can we just stay on the phone for the rest of the day?”

“No, Dylan.” I laughed and I could tell the sound alone made him feel a little more at ease. “We have to be responsible here. But, tell you what, when it’s time for your next break we can Skype call. What do you think?”

“I think that you’re the best girlfriend a guy could ask for and I love you very much.” Dylan swooned and I could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I love you, too.” I responded, smiling as well. “Now go, I don’t want you getting fired.”

“They can’t fire me, it’s the last season!” Dylan laughed wholeheartedly and I laughed along with him.

That’s what our relationship mostly consisted of: smiling, laughing, fun, and heart eyes. Even though Dylan has been beyond stressed lately because of everything that’s happened in the course of the past two years, we never fail to make each other happy. Things have been very intense for him ever since the accident that shall not be mentioned. Shooting The Death Cure had to be pushed back to this year, Dylan had to stay home for six months and try to avoid paparazzi harassment at all times, he needed to physically train for American Assassin and completely go against his doctor’s recommendations, deal with crazy fans that literally sent him death threats when they found out he wouldn’t be in all of season 6B for Teen Wolf, and even manage to audition for future projects to top it all off. Stress has been very imminent in Dylan’s life and I always felt like it was my job to make him feel better.

Which is why, being the amazing girlfriend I am, I wasn’t going to just Skype call him. I was going to personally go over to his work and give him a fun little surprise.

With excitement running through my veins, I jumped up from my position on our bed together and immediately ran to the bathroom for a shower. Dylan’s next break should be in about an hour, considering he doesn’t have a lot of scenes to shoot this year, so I knew I had to get ready quick.

Once I was out of the shower, I put on Dylan’s favorite red lingerie and took a good look in the mirror. The way the strong red color contradicted with my skin tone will definitely drive him crazy and I can already feel myself getting wet at the thought alone. I didn’t even bother putting on any pants because I knew I wouldn’t really need them and, instead, I picked up the t-shirt Dylan used to sleep from our messy med and slipped it on. Bringing the fabric up to my nose, I took a deep breath and glady breathed in his incredible smell. Sure, I see him everyday but I can’t help feeling addictive and always needed more of him.

Putting on makeup right now just to see Dylan would be useless considering he was going to smudge it up anyway. Therefore, with a smile om my face and exhilaration running through my veins, I put on my black stillettos and grabbed my car keys to head for the Teen Wolf lot. It didn’t take too long to get there and, in a matter of fifteen minutes, I was already greeting Phil the security guard as he let me pass the barrier and enter the studio.

The first thing I did was park my car in an area Dylan would never spot and, then, gladly entered his trailer. Since Dylan hasn’t been in the greatest mood lately, I knew for a fact that he wasn’t going to stick around on set in between scenes like he usually does. From what he told me on the phone, Cody and Sprayberry have been driving him crazy all week and he’s definitely going to want as much distance as possible. Which is where I come in and make him feel all kinds of good before returning to work for the rest of the day.

Having patiently waited for Dylan, laid on his pull-out bed, I immediately jumped up and fixed myself to look sexier the moment the door to his trailer flew open. The look of surprise and immediate lust in Dylan’s eyes when he entered, instantly, made desire crash down on my body. I already knew that I would be putty in his hands in a matter of seconds. Without even saying anything, Dylan just slowly closed the door behind him and took off his sneakers as he licked his lips in anticipation.

“Do you have any idea how good you look just wearing my shirt on?” Dylan questioned, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Do you have any idea how much better I’ll look once you take it off?” I teased, smirking up at him.

My words definitely sparked something in him because Dylan instantly jumped on me, the intense sexual tension in the air an incredible influence on him. I giggled at his excitement and his lips were quickly on mine as my fingers instinctively ran through his hair. I smiled when Dylan’s tongue slid across my bottom lip, already asking for an entrance, and I didn’t think twice before opening my mouth for him. He allowed me to call the shots and would moan everytime I played with his tongue skillfully.

When we both needed to breathe again, Dylan detached his lips from mine and gently caressed my cheeks with his soft hands. His eyes gazed into mine with such emotion and care that a blush immediately made its way on my skin. Dylan never failed to make me feel special and I adored how intimate our relationship was. I always thought that intimacy was about allowing someone to touch you, but it’s so much more. Intimacy is someone who touches you beyond just the physical contact because they find a way to your soul. Intimacy is who you text at four in the morning to share your biggest fears and dreams. Intimacy is the person always in the back of your mind, no matter how distracted you are.

“I love you.” Dylan whispered before pulling off his shirt I was wearing and placing a gentle kiss on my mouth.

The moment he realized I had put on his favorite lingerie set, Dylan couldn’t hold back the immediate moan that fell from his pink lips. His eyes raked my entire body and I felt his cock slightly twitch against my thigh, through his red crimson pants he wore for Stiles’ character. Standing up from the the pull-out bed, Dylan began unbuckling his belt.

Suddenly, the door to his trailer immediately flew open and the both of us froze in absolute shock. I didn’t even have the thought in me to cover myself up with something, anything, before the intruders invaded Dylan’s safe space.

“Hey, Dyl, are you trying to hide from us?” Sprayberry immediately hollered when he and Cody were inside, both instantly stopping in their tracks once they noticed their co-worker wasn’t alone. “Oh, my God!”

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Dylan shouted angrily, the veins on his neck bulging against his skin.

Well, looks like someone’s stress is officially back.

“W-We, uh, W-We,” Sprayberry stuttered trying to answer, but was too astonished to form an actual sentence.

Much like Dylan did just moments ago, Cody’s eyes raked my entire body and, by the way he was biting down on his bottom lip, he definitely seemed to like what he saw. Before I could even do anything, Dylan jumped back on the bed and instinctively covered my body with his. Embarrassment and uncomfort took over my emotions as my boyfriend protected me, shielding my body from unwelcome eyes.

“Get! Out!” Dylan yelled, his Alpha male side appearing now that someone glanced at his female without his permission. “NOW!”

Sprayberry was the first to immediately sprint into action, forcefully pulling Cody out the door with him and literally having to tear his gaze off of my body. I let out a nervous breath I didn’t even know I was holding in the second the door sounded shut and the two actors were finally out of the trailer.

“Damn, it’s a good thing I wasn’t naked yet, right?” I chuckled nervously, trying to make the best out of this situation. However, it was no use. Dylan was furious and no longer in the light-hearted mood like before.

“He was totally eye-fucking you and that’s what concerns you the most?” Dylan scolded and even though he was angry, my entire body filled with desire.

Dylan’s usually very sweet, but every now and then he goes completely dominant and it’s the sexiest fucking thing ever. The way he pulls my hair as he forcefully pounds into me or roughly spanks me just because I went against one of his many commands always had me on the edge.

“You’re right.” I smiled innocently, looking up at him as he noticed the tension change in the room. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

The flicker in his eyes immediately went from rage to complete and utter lust the second I let the kinky title he loves so damn much come out of my mouth. The warm and golden-brown color once in his eyes was replaced with a dark black, his pupils now dilated to the maximum. Dylan’s bulge pressed against his pants and  I couldn’t take my eyes off of it, knowing exactly what stood beneath the fabric. Although he wasn’t the only one turned on beyond comprehension as arousal pooled uncomfortably in my panties and I desperately wanted them off of me.

Reaching my hand down to my panties to get rid of it, Dylan’s hand suddenly gripped my wrist and stopped me from moving any further.

“Did I say you could do anything yet?” Dylan questioned.

I gulped and slowly shook my head, his eyes focusing on my lip when I bit down on it. He let go of me without another word, but it didn’t even feel like he did because of his addictive touch still lingering on my skin. Dylan stood up and walked over to the door, locking it as he licked his lips with his eyes trailing over my body.

“Take off your bra.” He commanded, walking back over but not sitting down.

“What?” I asked as I watched him take off his shirt, the sight of his impressive form stunning me.

“Ah, ah, ah, babygirl. You know the rules.” Dylan tsked, shaking his head as he unbuckled his belt like before and opened his pants. “Only speak when I give you the permission to.”

Heat rushed throughout my entire body until it landed with full force in my core. Dylan and I had this little game whenever he was dominant and it was one of my favorite fucking things. The game was simple, but absolutely drove me crazy: Dylan would give me three chances and if I strike out every single one of them, he had no other choice than to punish me.

“Strike one.” Dylan stated, a smirk playing on my lips with what he said next. “And I know you just heard what I demanded.”

At the same time that I reached behind my own back to unclasp my bra, Dylan dropped his pants. His erection pressed hard against his boxers, the gray fabric slightly wet from his arousal. When both of us finished taking off our pieces of clothing, Dylan’s eyes were already glued onto my now exposed perky breasts.

“Now your panties.”

My boyfriend and I pulled both of our underwear off our bodies, watching the other intently. As soon as we were free of clothing and completely exposed to each other, Dylan grabbed himself in his hand and stroked his shaft slowly. The sight of Dylan pumping himself as his eyes gazed on my body turned me on in ways that I can’t even explain.

“Touch yourself, babygirl.” He commanded, my mind melting at his husky voice.

Following his orders, I sat up straight on the bed and spread apart by legs for him to have a full view which made him moan in response. I brought my hand down to my already soaking core and gently slid my finger through my folds, separating them. Slowly rubbing small circles against my clitoris, I couldn’t help but let out a moan. I watched as Dylan used his thumb to caress his tip and I desperately wanted it in my mouth, but I knew that I had to follow his order or else I’d be punished. However, being punished by him does sound very inviting.

Using my other hand to pinch my nipples and tease not only myself but also Dylan, I noticed his grip tighten around his member. Dylan let out an unsatisfied groan when I took my hand away from my breast, but then immediately moaned when I used it to push a finger inside my heat. My back instantly arched and I let out a whimper at the feeling, provoking him to pick up his pace around himself.

“You look so beautiful pleasuring yourself, princess.” Dylan grunted as I moved faster along with him.

Of course I knew how to work myself and make my body feel good, but there’s no denying that Dylan is so much better at it. The way his long and skillfull fingers knowingly curl up inside of me in such a perfect way that not even I knew how to do or the way his sinful tongue flicks expertly against my nub has me wishing that he would just jump on top of me already. But, if there’s one thing Dylan O'Brien certainly loves being is a fucking tease.

“Fuck, baby. Even though this feels good, nothing compares to your beautiful lips and warm mouth wrapped around my cock.” He moaned as my body craved for his touch. “Stop what your doing and come kneel in front of me.”

An exciting idea roared to life in me when I decided to ignore Dylan’s command and willingly get my next strike. I tuned out whatever he had to say and focused on the incredible feeling of my finger pumping inside of me purely to spite him. Which definitely worked because in a matter of seconds I could hear Dylan growling and approaching me. I, suddenly, felt his hands rip mine away from my body and forcefully pull me into him, our naked bodies against each other as we stood.

“Strike two.” He warned through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching and looking sexy as ever.

Before I even knew it, Dylan pushed me down to kneel in front of him and harshly grabbed onto my hair with his hands. Bringing my own hands up, I held onto his thigh with one hand and wrapped around his base with the other. I smirked at Dylan as I licked my lips and gawked at the delicious sight in front of me. I gladly took Dylan’s tip inside of my mouth and he immediately moaned when I did. The first thing my tongue came into contact with was his precum and I can’t deny that I love the salty taste. As I gently sucked his head, my hand began to slowly pump his dick.

One of the many things I love about Dylan is that he’s very responsive and isn’t ashamed in letting me know exactly what he liked. Which is why I already knew that one of his favorite things I do when I give him a blowjob is lick his prominent vein on the underside of his cock at the same time that I very lightly and very carefully graze my teeth against his topside. Dylan let out a throaty groan the second I did exactly that and it seemed to light a fire in him because he immediately took control.

My boyfriend pushed himself fully into my mouth until he was hitting the back of my throat and I was gagging around him, only for him to pull away and do the exact same thing again. Dylan was happily fucking my mouth and, to be honest, I didn’t even mind it. The lust was so far deep in my blood that all I could focus on was how sexy he looked as he practically used me as a fuck toy and how damn good he tasted.

I hollowed my mouth around him to create a much tighter environment for him and the filthy sounds of his shameless moans erupting from his chest made my core ache more than it already had. Due to the fast pace and my wet mouth, it didn’t take long for Dylan to reach his much needed release. I hummed when he unloaded and his hot cum shot straight down my throat, his hips bucking in response.

Once Dylan came down from his high, I pulled him out of my mouth and he shuddered at the contact due to how sensitive he’d become. Wiping away the spit on my mouth and any cum spilling down my chin, I stood up with a smirk on my lips and Dylan immediately kissed me. His dominance faltering for the slightest second so he could show me how much he cared for me through the gentle action. However, the moment we parted, dominant Dylan was back.

“Can you sit on the chair for me, babygirl?” He pointed to the chair under his desk he uses to study his lines as he headed over to the small closet.

“Yes, Daddy.” I obeyed because both of us knew that even though he asked, it wasn’t actually a question.

My eyes widened immediately when I noticed just what he grabbed from the closet and Dylan approached me with an intense grin on his lips. I wanted to desperately ask him why the hell he had that in his trailer or what he thinks he’s about to do to me with it, but I knew that that wouldn’t be the greatest idea.

“It’s not mine.” Dylan defended himself when he obviously saw my shocked facial expression at the metal handcuffs in his hands. “It’s Stiles’, but I don’t see why we can’t have our own little fun with it. What do you think?”

“Well, I know for a fact Stiles and Lydia have a lot of kinky sex with handcuffs.” I smirked, reaching my arms behind the back of the chair for him to lock them there. “So, I say we should also give it a shot, Daddy.”

“That’s my girl.” Dylan smiled, placing the cold metal around my wrists to lock them behind me.

The next thing my boyfriend did was push my legs apart so I was completely opened for him in a way that felt so dirty and exposing but I loved nonetheless. Dylan’s lips instantly wrapped around one of my breasts, already biting down on my nipple, and I whimpered when I couldn’t grip his hair with my fingers. As he teasingly worked on my breast, Dylan brought a hand up to my core and my hips instinctively bucked the second his middle finger rubbed against my sensitive nub. He started slow at first but as soon as he knew I was ready for more, Dylan picked up his middle finger’s pace and, using his other hand, he slid one of his long fingers inside of me.

I couldn’t hold back my moan at the incredible feeling, considering my body had been craving it for the longest time now, and the first finger was immediately followed by a second. I absolutely loved how much Dylan understood my body and exactly what it needed which is why I was already getting close to my release in a matter of minutes. His skillful fingers curled inside of me and pumped with such fervor that I didn’t have any ounce of self control in me anymore. I knew I was about to reach my edge and, much to my dismay, so did Dylan.

“Not yet, princess.” He teased and I whined when he removed his fingers from my soaking wet heat. “You only get to cum when I say so. And I want it to happen around my cock.”

After seeing me completely opened for him and a moaning mess just because of his fingers, Dylan’s erection was already back up and ready for more action. Precum glistened on his tip and even though I did give him head only a few moments ago, I already wanted to do it all over again. What can I say? The man has a delicious dick.

Dylan was pumping himself a little bit as he watched my chest rise and fall from my rapid breathing before grabbing my feet and hitching them up on the chair. He pulled my waist towards the edge of the seat, making me lay down since I still was locked to the back of the chair, and Dylan positioned himself in front of my entrance. Without even giving me a warning, he instantly slammed inside of me and my entire body arched at the invasive act. He waited a few seconds for me to adjust and when I sort of did, Dylan began roughly thrusting into me.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re always so tight.” Dylan moaned, his face snuggled into my slightly sweaty neck.

The pleasurable feeling of his thick width stretching my tight walls as he pounded in me, quite deeply considering how the position we were in favored his ability to be completely buried inside of me, sparked the orgasm I was so close to reach that Dylan denied up to the surface again. I clenched around him once and he growled against my skin, my entire body vibrating with the sound.

“Don’t cum yet.” He demanded and I whimpered.

Even though I tried to hold it back, I clenched around him once more and this time Dylan immediately brought his face up to glare at me. We were so close that I could feel his breath brushing across my skin and, yet, all I could focus on was the bound knot in my stomach ready to break free any minute now. The thought of going against Dylan’s commands was both terrifying and exciting and, to be honest, I didn’t know which one attracted me more.

“Don’t you dare.” Dylan threatened, bringing one of his hands up to forcefully pull my hair and make me look him straight in the eyes. “I’m serious. Promise Daddy you won’t cum until I allow it.”

“I-I promise, Daddy.” I managed to say through moans. However the second his cock twitched inside of me when I said his favorite nickname, I was long gone and there was no way going back.

My entire body shook, my toes curled against the chair and uncontrollable shouts erupted from my chest as one of the greatest orgasms I’ve ever experienced bolted through my veins. I could feel my core clenching around Dylan’s shaft at the same time that it released all of my pent-up arousal and gushed onto him. I screamed so loudly that I was certain everyone on the Teen Wolf lot heard me and I was also sure that despite not following his orders, Dylan was loving the way I was a mess. Everyone including Sprayberry and Cody knew that the person who just made this young woman scream so much in pleasure was Dylan and that it didn’t even matter how badly they might have wanted her, she was his.

My own release triggered Dylan’s and as I was coming down from my intense high, my boyfriend was reaching his. Dylan’s cock twitched before cumming for the second time today and shooting his liquid inside of me, the incredible feeling of his hot cum running against my walls making me moan. The sound of Dylan’s own moans echoed through the trailer and I watched in awe as his face contorted in pure pleasure. He held onto the edges of the chair tightly, his muscles straining against his arms as he shook.

“Strike three.” Dylan managed to say through his husky and breathless voice once he came down from his high.

The sweet taste of adrenaline rushed though all of my veins and my heartbeat pounded so hard it pulsed inside of my ears the second Dylan said those two simple words. A mixture of concern and lust flooded inside of me and I didn’t quite know which one was stronger.

Dylan slowly slid out of my body, his eyes staring into mine the entire time, and I winced at how sensitive I’ve become. Going back over to the closet, Dylan pulled out a small key and walked over to me again. He hovered over my body, his incredible smell filling my nose, and unlocked the metal cuffs on my hands. They immediately dropped to the floor with a clang and Dylan didn’t even seem to care. Putting the key down on his desk, Dylan stood up straight in front of me.

“Let me ask you a question, princess.” He husked. “Do you think you’re a good girl?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I answered, bringing my hands over to settle on my lap. “I do.”

“Hmm, well, I happen to think you’re very very naughty.” Dylan murmured. “And do you know what happens to naughty girls, baby? They get spanked.”

Before I could even put together what was about to happen, Dylan harshly grabbed me and made me stand. My boyfriend pushed me down onto the desk, my ass sticking out for him, and he stuck his leg between mine to keep them apart. He slowly began to caress one of my cheeks with the palm of his hand and goosebumps covered my entire body.

“How many should I give you, babygirl?” Dylan teased. “Does ten sound good?”

“N-No, that’s too much.” I stuttered.

“Okay, then, ten it is.” He chuckled darkly and I mentally prepared myself for what was about to come. “Count for me, princess.”

Suddenly, Dylan lifted his hand and roughly slammed it back down on my ass cheek. The intense pain immediately making my hips bucker in response. The ache and pleasure shooting through me and landed straight in the bottom of my stomach, sparking the creation of a familiar knot.

“O-One.” I whimpered and, as soon as I finished speaking, Dylan spanked my same cheek again. “T-Two.”

He repeatedly smacked my right cheek five times in a row, my skin aching intensely with every hit. Everytime he would slap me, the knot inside of my stomach would become tighter and tighter. I knew that by the time he finished spanking me all ten times, that knot would break and I would be orgasming for the second time in this trailer. I was already a shaking, moaning and whimpering mess in his hands and, as embarrassing as it was to be so vulnerable to someone, I couldn’t care less.

Dylan rubbed my right cheek for a few seconds to ease the stinging pain on my skin before moving to my left and striking my ass again without any warning. My knees were wobbling and weak and if it wasn’t for his leg holding me up, I would’ve definitely fallen down my now.

“S-Six.” I mewled, my voice only able to come out as a whisper whilst he continued his punishment on me. “Seven, Eight, Nine.”

By the tenth strike, the extremely tight knot had snapped and spread an insane amount of pleasure inside of me. My vision blurred and went white as my orgasm dissolved in my blood and bones. My body jerked against the desk, my skin digging into the wood, and arousal immediately spilled out of me and ran down Dylan’s thigh. It didn’t matter that my ass was burning in excruciating agony, the pleasure was so much more powerful.

Dylan held onto my hips as I finished reaching my edge and came back down to Earth. His fingers creating tender circles on my skin.

“You okay, baby?” He asked me and I managed to bring myself back up, with his assistance of course.

“Yes, Dylan, I am.” I turned around with a smile on my face, wrapping my arms around his neck for stability.

“I wasn’t too harsh, was I?”

“No, you were perfect.” I shook my head happily, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Good.” Dylan smiled, his eyes no longer dark and now back to its gentle color. “It’s just, the way Cody looked at you drove me insane and-”

“I know, baby.” I interrupted him before he could finish, caressing the back of his neck with my fingers. “But, I’m not his, I’m yours.”

Dylan smiled at me with everything he had in him and I swooned at how beautiful he was. However, not just in the way he looked or in the way that he always manages to say things that makes me fall in love with him more and more everyday. But, just in the pure way that he is.

  • Cassian: So you can go, like, anywhere a shadow can, right?
  • Azriel: Yeah.
  • Cassian: So, like, into the shadow beneath Nesta's feet during the midday sun?
  • Azriel: Of course.
  • Cassian: But what about the shadow beneath her hair when it's down?
  • Azriel: Sure.
  • Cassian: Or, perhaps, the shadow created beneath her arms when they're at her sides?
  • Azriel: ...
  • Cassian: What about the shadow between her bre—
  • Azriel: Cassian, where is this going?
The Ouroboros

I’ve been pondering what Feyre saw in the Ouroboros Mirror. What parts of herself did the Mirror drag up from the darkest depths of her soul and make her face? What was Feyre forced to come to terms with in order to save Prythian, her friends, her family, and court? What did she learn to love? And what does the beast have to do with anything? 

I think Feyre had more to come to terms with than anyone else in Prythian. Yet she overcame it. She decided not to let her own soul destroy her. 

I believe she had to watch her younger self wring the neck of a tiny rabbit as it screamed in pain—her first kill. Feyre watched from the snow-shrouded trees as an ash arrow imbedded itself in the side of large wolf, an unprovoked shot of pure hatred. The Ouroboros would have shown in graphic detail everything that occurred UtM—the dancing and drinking that made her feel filthy, the unsolved riddled that made her relive her shortcomings, and the unbearable murder of two innocent fae. The families of those two innocent souls as they raged and mourned and crumpled in weary misery. They had come so close to freedom, but the price to pay had been their loved one. Feyre had taken it from them. 

The Mirror would have swirled with images and flashes of Tamlin, Lucien, Elain, Nesta…all those Feyre felt she had betrayed or let down in some way, whether it was deserved or not. Her conversations with Ianthe as she ignorantly shared every detail about her human family and their estate, then the moment her sisters stumbled through the door in Hybern, and were shoved into the Cauldron, Made into the very thing they hate. And somehow, after all this and so so much more, Feyre came to acceptance. But I think, more than all the ways she hurt those around her, or they hurt her in turn, all the blood and vomit and nightmares…more than any of that, Feyre had to learn to love the beast that stared back

I was not alone.

Crawling down the snow-kissed wall, a massive beast of claws and scales and fur and shredding teeth inched toward the floor. Toward me.

Its enormous paws were near-silent on the floor, the fur on them a blend of black and gold. Not a beast designed to hunt in these mountains. Certainly not with the ridge of dark scales down its back. And the large, shining eyes—.

I didn’t have time to remark on those blue-grey eyes as the beast pounced. 

Where I had been standing … the beast now sat, scaled tail idly swishing through the snow.

Watching me.

Not—not watching.

Gazing back at me. My reflection.

Of what lurked beneath my skin.

My knife clattered to the stones and snow. And I looked into the mirror. (pg. 605-6) 

“What did you see?”

“Myself. I saw myself.” (pg. 617-18) 

Maas gives us a short, but very revealing description of the beast—Feyre’s beast

The significance of gold and black fur? Throughout ACOTAR and MAF, Feyre religiously rejected any power that related to Tamlin, namely the ability to shift into animal form. She feared the claws that poked against her skin. She hated them. Until she realized they weren’t Tamlin’s claws, they were her own. They were talons. And if she could make talons, she could make wings. Feyre’s beast form having a mixture of black and golden fur signifies that Tamlin is a part of her, and always will be. She once loved him, so much so that she killed for him, died for him. A love like that leaves a permanent imprint on a soul, even if the love itself doesn’t last forever. Feyre had to learn to love the part of her soul that had been touched and permanently changed by Tamlin. 

The scales could signify several things. Of course Summer comes to mind. Feyre obviously has an affinity for the Summer magic that flows through her veins. It came easily to her—more easily than any other High Lord’s power. The scales might represent the bond formed between Tarquin and Feyre while she visited Summer. Regardless of the blood rubies, now rescinded, the High Lord of Summer and High Lady of Night shared a unique understanding of one another, and a common passion to spread equality between the High Fae and lesser faeries (and even humans) to all courts and territories. 

The scales might also be equivalent to the thorns Feyre feels she has and once used to describe herself to Tamlin—the spiny ridge running down the beasts’ back and tail representing her prickly side. This is an annoying feature most of us have, and a part we all hate, but must accept responsibility for. 

But perhaps the mostly likely possibility is that the scales and ridges represent Feyre’s armor (Illyrian armor is scaled). We know it to be thick. In ACOMAF, Rhysand worked for months to attempt to delve through the layers and layers of Feyre’s armor in the form of depression, anger, bitterness, and solitude. It is likely that Feyre had to learn to love that armor, even if she wished it had been stronger, or less harmful to those around her, the way it hurt Rhys after the Court of Nightmares scene in ACOMAF, and Mor at the camp in ACOWAR. While gazing at herself in the Mirror, Feyre had to learn to bear her armor proudly and honorably, to use it to strategically protect herself, and not harm or keep out those who love her, fight for her. 

The massive, flesh-shredding teeth—Feyre’s ability and willingness to kill and murder. Whether for food to avoid starvation, killing for no other reason than pure, undiluted hatred, or the murder of innocents to save the one she loved, Feyre has a lot of blood on her hands. And as we learned through her nightmares and admittance to Cassian…Feyre feels that blood should be her own. She has fangs, and she’s used them—over and over again. Feyre suffered soul-deep from the pain she felt she brought upon others. But when the Mirror showed her those glistening teeth and impressive maw, Feyre had to accept that pain and torment—and then turn it against her enemies. Not fangs to harm the innocent, but rather to protect them, to fight for them. To fight against Hybern and the injustices of the world. To protect her sisters and those like them. To care for the weak and weary and afraid. 

I have been struck each time I’ve read these scenes—on a personal level. To think about facing my own beast…what would it look like? How would I react as it sat and laid my very soul bare? Could I even look into my own eyes as they gazed back in judgement? Could I learn to love every part of myself as Feyre did? Would I be able to face my inner most demons? Honestly, I don’t know. But I think we could all benefit from pondering this passage a bit more.

Penny for your thoughts.

bzfd.it
The Downfall Of YouTube’s Biggest Star Is A Symptom Of A Bigger Illness
The schadenfreude over YouTube star Felix Kjellberg’s sudden fall from grace overlooks a much bigger, more insidious pattern of young men testing boundaries in the angriest corners of the internet.
By Jacob Clifton

“The online alt-right is built on lulz, and on an insulated privilege enjoyed by people without any personal context for or historical understanding of the things their privilege lets them say. Rewriting Felix Kjellberg’s history to make him a monster — pulled along by the gravity of recent high-impact cautionary tales like those of Milo Yiannopolous and Richard Spencer — is investigative laziness that obscures a much more important fact: that “edgelords,” the boys and men who group together online for the explicit proliferation of hate speech and misogyny, will almost inevitably keep pushing the line until they end up in a truly dark place.

Because PewDiePie’s relationship to his following, like that of Milo to his own fans, is both a reciprocal system of validation and a male personality cult, we don’t diagnose it as anything out of the ordinary: We take it at face value, because “men are men.” We can demonize “them” (the ones who go too far) as an idea, continue to ignore them in reality, and then act shocked when their need for attention finally intersects with their ability to make themselves heard.

This isn’t about being right. Of course joke-racists, trolls, and budding fascists are wrong; of course they’re out of control, abetted by corporations who provide them with platforms to organize and speak. This is about understanding what lies beneath this dark side of the internet, and how to stop it.”