Id-rather-be-in-middle-earth - 👑❤Bisexual, Introverted, Socially Awkward💖🏳️‍🌈

Uh yeah, I sure hope she does.

Someone: You know Lady Dimitrescu is probably gonna turn into a horrifying tentacle monster at the end, right?

Me:

It feels so good when your writing is flowing effortlessly, when you write without even thinking.

Credit: @pet_foolery

Reblogging because this beyond not okay. I've been fortunate to not be judged or sneered (at least to my face, I dont know if anyone's said anything behind my back) but for anyone who has been judged and hasn't spoken up about it, know your rights and call them out!!

What it’s like to be slut-shamed when buying birth control

Even when pharmacists do let people access contraception, whether emergency contraception or condoms or prescription birth control pills, the process isn’t always free of judgment. In a series of recent online discussions, people across the country have begun to share stories of the stigma they’ve experienced. As many have pointed out, this can be especially damaging to teens.

Oh dear Chuck. My heart cant take it!! Absolutely love this!!

A Spell of Ice and Fire

A/N: I took a bit of creative license; played fast and loose with the continuity.  Because, well… I find Pellegrino hotter than Casifer.  And I’m the Chuck of this little world. MUAHAHAHAH!  ::ahem::  …Anyway, I hope you like it!!!  Also, thank you for your patience.  See?  I do take requests!  I just…. take a long time on them…. 

Menu Warnings: ALL THE SMUT!!  Power struggle, sex magic, Demon Power!Kink, Cold!kink (is that a thing?  I’m sure that’s a thing), equal-opportunity oral sex, orgasm denial (more like inattentive partner, but…), unprotected sex (Porn is not real life, y'all.), really rough sex, restraint, ménage a trois, almost-death by hypothermia.  And if that’s not enough, strong language and drinking.

Word Count: 5,300ish (Yes, it’s a bit long.  But you’re getting two for the price of one, here.)

The picture was everything Crowley liked.  You, in your black lace robe and nothing else, reclined on your bed, cut crystal glass of Glencraig in hand.  If this didn’t get his attention, nothing would.

<It’s rude to make me drink alone> You typed under the photo, and hit send.  And waited.  And waited.  And then you drank your scotch alone.

It had been three weeks since the bastard had contacted you.  Granted, you’d been keeping your relationship quiet (he had a whole dimension to run, you had your coven to look after, and his continued contact with the Winchester brothers could be hazardous to your health), but still.  He had never gone more than a day or two without at least a text.  You were starting to worry.  

Lucifer lounged on the throne, one leg thrown over the armrest, thumbing through Crowley’s phone.  When the picture and text came through, a look of glee diffused his face, and he leapt up to saunter over to Crowley’s cage.

“Well, lookie lookie here, doggie.  Seems your bitch is in heat.”  He crouched down to wave the phone in front of Crowley’s face.  The captive king lunged, threw his hand through the bars, and tried to grab the phone, but Lucifer was too fast.

“Bad dog.”  The devil studied your picture for a while, an evil glow in his eyes.  “You know, this one isn’t half bad.  Definitely out of your league- how did you get that?”  He squinted at the screen.  “Waaait a minute.  There are hex bag goodies on that table in the background.  Are you schtupping a witch?  Oh, that’s just too deliciously Oedipal.  Does your mother know what you’ve been up to, young man?”

Crowley snarled around his gag, which delighted his captor.  Giggling, Lucifer began tapping out a response.  “You know, I work really hard.  I think I deserve some fun, what do you think, Dog?”

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