#huntressandlioness1 ask

[winterfrostlovetriangle]

💌no pressure but send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.💌

Aw, thank you so much!! ❤️❤️

[supamerchant]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity. 💫🌈

I am so, so sorry for answering this ask so late. I originally got this around the time I got a similar ask and decided to wait and forgot about this until I got another one.

Anyways onto the list

Bollywood Mashups - I'm back in my soundcloud phase of listening to Bollywood-English song mashups. My favs are Bollywood with Hip Hop / Rap

2. A bowl of ramen on a cold day.

3. Any chance I get to see my bby (guess not so bby anymore so toddler I guess) twin nephews. .Nuf said lol

4. Snickers the Corgi that walks past my place pretty regularly who I love giving scratchies for like 5 minutes every time I see him

5. A certain tall handsome Texas actor who plays my pfp :) I'm rewatching spn again and after briefly rewatching the early seasons of Gilmore Girls (I hate all the stuff Dean goes through in his later seasons and how hated he is in the fandom, was he perfect, no, but he is seriously overhated in the fandom and he truly cared so much for Rory, ends rant before going on a meta rant)

Thank you so much for the ask! @mostlybbucky I just saw you sent a similar ask so I'm tagging you, but I'll answer yours after spacing it out a little bit :)

[colinoeyebrows]

Squeeeeeeeeeze!!! You've been given a hug! Send this to all the people who deserve a hug. See how many you get back :) Now let the hugging begin! 💛

Aww thank you for the hug <3, *hugging you back*

[trials-era-sam]

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🧡

AWWWW thank you so much!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰 ily!!!!!

[suometar]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. learn to know your mutuals and followers.♡

Hiiii! Oh gosh, five things...

❤️ My dogs. They make me laugh every day because they're not the sharpest and they're ready to cuddle whenever.

💗 Hubs, because he, too, makes me laugh every day. Not because he is not sharp (he's the sharpest man I know) but because he wants to make me laugh. He is however not so keen on cuddles though. I know, his loss.

💜 The people I have found recently who share the same interests and some of them also have equally bad humor as me. Bless them.

💙 I've gotten some proper writing done for a change because apparently I was severely sleep deprived for a few months thanks to moving houses. 100/100 don't recommend moving out of a massive house and moving into half the size of that.

💚 It's spring!!!!! Even though the yard is soggy and there's sand inside the house and dirty paw prints everywhere, the moment when I go outside in the morning with dogs and hear blackbird sing - heaven.

Thanks for asking 🧡

[samsrowena]

ROWENA MACLEOD IN EVERY EPISODE ✧ THE THINGS WE LEFT BEHIND

↓ tag list (ask to be added/removed!)

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@wartyfrogfish @carveredlund @johnwatersbongwater @bloodydeanwinchester @deanabean

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@freakwiththeknifecollection @fangirlxwritesx67 @huntressandlioness1 @thisisapaige @k-slla

@sammysnaughtygirl

[leatafandom]

Chef's Reward

Fandom/Ship: SPN/Debriel - Dean Winchester/Gabriel 

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,511

Warnings and Tags: plot what plot/porn without plot, bottom Dean/top Gabriel, anal sex, blow jobs, anal fingering, lube, light sub/dom dynamics, kissing, praise kink, friends with benefits 

Summary: Gabriel drops in on Dean. 

Written for the @spnfanficpond secret Santa for the wonderful @heavenssexiestangel.

Author Note: I’ve been wanting to try some new ships, and Debriel is so fun, and then while working on it, I just couldn't not write smut. >//< I hope Dean’s not too ooc I don’t write him often, but I’ve been trying. Thank you so much @huntressandlioness1 for being an amazing beta, helping me with this story, and creating a perfect title for it! Happy Reading <3

Read a snipping from, Chef's Reward, Rated Explicit, below or in full on my Ao3.

*note, this story (and all of my others) on Ao3 is locked for registered Ao3 users.

Chef's Reward

“Dean-o.” Hands wrapped around Dean’s waist, making him jerk and drop the metal bowl he had been holding. “What’s up?” 

“Do you have to do that?!” The hunter grumbled at the sound of the archangel’s voice behind him, the shorter being’s face pressed against his arm.  

“Yes.” Gabriel snickered, his fingers hooking through Dean’s belt loops. “Whatcha making?” He asked, looking around the bunker's kitchen. 

“Dinner before Sam gets back.” Dean sighed, hands falling to his sides, leaning back into Gabriel’s front, knowing he could hold his weight. 

“Mm,” Gabriel’s eyes roamed the seasonings Dean had set out on the metal prep table. “Why don’t we do something more fun?” He asked, looking towards the timer that was ticking away beside unpeeled potatoes and pulling Dean flush against him. “I can think of a few better uses for this table.” 

“No way,” the hunter grouched, shifting around in Gabriel's arms. “You never snap it clean,” Dean grumbled. “I'm not cleaning up the kitchen and making dinner,” he said, turning around to face Gabriel and leaning back against the metal table. 

“Killjoy,” the archangel complained, his hands moving to slide around Dean’s waist, fingers sliding into the back pockets of Dean's jeans. “Well,” his pout faded, rocking his body into Dean's, “I’m open to suggestions.” 

Dean looked over the archangel's bouncing brows. His body shifted closer to him, having missed the archangel's company within the bunker and the pattern the two had fallen into whenever they sought each other out. 

He barely remembered when they had started, but it had been somewhere near the intersection of Dean's frustrations bubbling over and Gabriel's need to feel in control of… anything. They had been doing this dance for years now, falling into bed -or onto the nearest surface - together before hanging out. The pair didn't keep tabs on each other, even though Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Gabriel had been the reason he'd avoided a harpies’ claws last week. They never named it, only let it be what it was, and it was grounding. 

The hunter’s hands wrapped around Gabriel's waist, pulling him closer as the shorter man pulled at his shirt collar. “Couch is close,” Dean suggested just as Gabriel dragged wet kisses over his throat. “Mm yeah, couch,” he gritted his teeth against the moan on the tip of his tongue at Gabriel's hard squeeze of his ass and teasing tongue along his collarbone. 

“I can do couch.” 

Continue Reading on my Ao3

[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair 10/?

See! Another update! I originally intended to include the wedding in this chapter, but I hit over 2k words and decided it would have to wait. But guess what? Tomorrow there will be another chapter, and it will be a romantic, swoony, steamy one! For now, enjoy the mystery and thickening of the plot in this chapter . . .

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 2k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  (let me know if you wish to be removed or added):  @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jonesfandomfanatic​ @hollyethecurious @lfh1226-linda

Chapter Ten

Killian studied Emma’s profile from the backseat. She was looking out the window, her chin in her hand, and she was worrying her bottom lip. He knew she was nervous about seeing her mother, especially after reading Mary Margaret’s journal. He wished he could make this all easier for her.

“This place we got her into is really nice,” Ingrid explained as she drove through town. “I’ve been trying for years. I think they can really help her here, and she’ll be safe.”

“What will really help her is solving the riddles,” Emma said, pulling away from the window to look at Ingrid. “I’ve only solved the first one!”

“Right,” Ingrid replied.

Emma narrowed her eyes at her foster mother. “You do believe her story, right?”

Ingrid glanced over at Emma, then quickly back to the road. She squirmed in her seat a bit, then sighed. “I don’t know, Emma, to be honest. It’s so completely unbelievable.”

Killian sat up straighter and leaned forward, grasping the back of Ingrid’s seat. “You said you wouldn’t think she was crazy!”

“I don’t!” Ingrid exclaimed. 

In the passenger seat, Emma slid down lower and nibbled on her finger nail. Ingrid glanced in concern over at her. 

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Emma. It’s me trying to process all of this.”

It grew quiet in the car for a bit, then Ingrid spoke again wistfully.

“It would make so much sense, though, thinking back on how your mom was when we met.”

“How so?” Emma asked tentatively, sitting up a bit straighter.

“She didn’t know how to drive. Had never seen a car before, actually. Everything seemed loud and frightening to her. She said things were just too fast, you know?”

“Like where she came from was completely different? Older in a way?” Emma asked.

“Exactly. And even though so much clearly made her nervous, she was also very well spoken and obviously smart. She carried herself with such confidence, too, like -”

“Like royalty?” Killian supplied. 

Ingrid smiled at his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, like royalty.”

It fell silent in the car again until Emma spoke up hesitantly. “It’s confusing to me too, Ingrid. Sometimes I tell myself it’s all crazy, then other times . . . I don’t know, other times, it makes more sense than anything else in my life ever has.”

“Well,” Ingrid replied, “regardless, we’re all here for you, and we’re going to solve those riddles.”

The car crested the hill then, and the mental health facility came into view. It was a grand mansion of red brick and dark brown wood, older even than the buildings at the university.

“Whoa,” Emma breathed as she looked up at the intimidating manor, “how are we affording this, again?”

“Medicaid?” Killian asked.

“No,” Ingrid answered with a chuckle. “Yet another reason to believe Mary Margaret is Snow White and under a curse. She never had any form of identification, no social security number, no record that she ever existed.”

“I wonder why she chose the name Mary Margaret Swan,” Emma mused.

Ingrid shrugged as she pulled into a parking space. “Maybe Swan because of the cursed princess in Swan Lake? As for Mary Margaret, I think she may have made it up on the spot when we met. She kind of stumbled over it, you know?”

They all exited the car, and as they walked towards the entrance to the mental hospital, Ingrid answered Emma’s first question under her breath.

“A fellow professor at the university used to be a psychologist here. He pulled some strings. And there are non-profit funds for itinerant people.”

The foyer of the massive building was more like the grand home of some turn-of-the-century tycoon than a hospital. Ingrid checked in at the mahogany front desk, and they all got visitors badges, then they headed up the stairs to the second floor. The doors that lined the hallways looked like regular bedroom doors except for the numbers affixed to them and the patient names on the walls beside them. Ingrid knocked lightly on a doorway to the left, and a nurse opened it. 

“She’s just had a dose of medication,” the nurse explained. “She had a bit of a difficult morning, so I don’t know how long she’ll stay awake for your visit.”

“We understand.” Ingrid continued to speak in low tones to the nurse as Emma stepped around her and into the room. Killian was right beside her, his hand resting reassuringly at the small of her back. 

The room was more like a suite, with a sitting area around a fireplace, a window seat lined with bookshelves, and an en suite bathroom. A glimpse into the bathroom was the only sign that this was a hospital, for that room was sterile and utilitarian. 

Mary Margaret lay on the bed under crisp white sheets, a burgundy blanket pulled up to her chin. She looked more pale and thin than Emma had ever seen her, and there were dark circles beneath her emerald eyes. When she saw Emma, however, her face brightened a bit. 

“Emma? Is that you?”

She reached out a hand that was almost bony, and Emma took it as tears welled in her eyes. 

“Yes, it’s me.” 

“You’re alright?”

Emma nodded as she took the chair that was pulled up beside the bed. 

“Yes, I’m alright.” 

Mary Margaret’s gaze flickered and darkened as she looked over Emma’s shoulder. “Who is he?”

“This is Killian,” Emma explained, pulling him closer. “He’s a good man. He loves me.”

Killian eased down to his knees beside the bed. “I asked Emma to marry me.”

Mary Margaret studied his face, then sighed and relaxed into the bed. “So you’re not that horrible boy with the red car.”

“No.” 

“And you’ll take care of my Emma?”

“I would die for her.”

Tears began to course down Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “True love,” she said so softly that Emma and Killian had to lean close to hear her, “it’s the strongest magic of all.”

“Mary Margaret?” Ingrid said gently, coming around to the other side of the bed.”Do you remember me?”

“Ingrid!” Mary Margaret exclaimed. “You kept my promise?”

Ingrid nodded, her own eyes filling with tears. “I love her like my own daughter.”

“Good,” Mary Margaret sagged again, as if conversation wore her out. Then she began to sing:

“O, where are you going?" "To Scarborough fair,"

    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;

"Remember me to a lass who lives there,

    For once she was a true love of mine.

And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,

    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,

Without any seam or needlework,

    And then she shall be a true love of mine.

And tell her to find the town which no one knows,

    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,

And reunite the lovers there with a kiss ,

    And then she shall be a true love of mine

And there she must sow an acre with but one kernel of corn,

    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,

Upon the seashore before the tide comes,

   And then she shall be a true love of mine

Her voice grew soft as she sang the last line, and her eyelids started to flutter. Emma leaned close, desperate to get some answers before they left. 

“Ma- er, Mother, how do I find the town no one knows?”

Mary Margaret’s eyes fluttered open. “A place where there are no happy endings,” she murmured. 

“But where?”

“Don’t cross the town line, no, no, no. Bad things will happen. Be careful, dearies.”

Oh no, she was sounding crazy again! Emma stood and grasped her mother by the shoulders. 

“Don’t start that,” she scolded. “I need help to solve these riddles, to help you! To help me! To help my baby!”

Mary Margaret lifted her head and shoulders off the bed, her eyes wide. “The baby’s coming?”

“Yes!”

“We don’t have much time! You have to find the town! You have to find my true love!”

“I know,” Emma choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks, “but how?”

Before her mother could answer, a scream and a crash sounded from the hallway. They all jerked their heads instinctively towards the sound, and Mary Margaret clucked her tongue.

“Princess Belle is not doing well,” she sing-songed, then began to giggle. 

There was another crash and scream, and Ingrid being the eternal caregiver, rushed out into the hall. 

“He won’t let her go,” Mary Margaret began to sob, “or me. Or you.”

“Who won’t let you go?” Emma demanded. She was beginning to lose her patience.

“I can’t say his name! It’s too dangerous!”

Killian put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “I don’t think we’ll get anything more from her today.” There was another scream and crash, and Emma looked towards the door with concern. Killian squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll go.”

Emma tried to follow him, but Mary Margaret clasped her hand with a grip firmer than she would have expected. 

“Don’t, Emma! He’s here!”

Killian stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. A nurse and an orderly were rushing into the room across the hall from whence came the frantic screams. But more oddly, Ingrid stood in the middle of the hall gazing with adoration at a man with long gray hair leaning on an ornate cane. She even giggled as he spoke to her - something Killian had never heard Ingrid do in his life. The man looked up and saw Killian. The man’s gaze unnerved him. 

“Is this your son, Ingrid?”

She turned, her face flushed and her eyes bright. “Oh, yes! Well, I mean, my husband’s brother, actually. Though soon to be my son-in-law! Crazy, I know.”

She was gabbering on like a schoolgirl! Killian recoiled as the man stepped closer.

“Who is this, Ingrid?” Killian demanded.

“Oh, he works with me.”

The man inclined his head. “Public relations.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. The man reached out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Though it seemed irrational, Killian recoiled and reached behind him for the doorknob to Mary Margaret’s room. “Get away from me.”

“Killian!” Ingrid gasped. “Mr. Gold, I’m so sorry for his rudeness.”

“No need for apologies,” the man, Mr. Gold, assured her in dulcet tones. He gazed intently at Killian, rubbing his thumb along an amulet hanging from his neck. Killian blinked, confusion making his vision blur. He let go of the door and stepped closer . . . 

“Is everything okay out here?”

Killian spun to see Emma standing in the open doorway. Her eyes landed on Mr. Gold’s face, and she went suddenly pale. 

“You, you . . .” Emma’s knees began to buckle, and Killian rushed to catch her. 

Emma pressed her face into his chest, and the words she whispered against his shirtfront made his blood run cold. 

“It’s the face I saw . . . when it wasn’t Neal anymore.”

Killian cried out with horror and rage, but when he turned to face the man . . . he was gone! Ingrid stumbled a bit and put a hand to her forehead. 

“What . . .” she mumbled, “what’s going on? Why am I in the hallway?”

“That man you introduced me to,” Killian hissed, “it’s Rumplestiltskin!”

Ingrid’s eyes grew wide even as she shook her head in bewilderment. “What man? I didn’t introduce you to anyone.”

The nurse and the orderly stepped out of the room across the hall, which now was silent. Emma gave a small gasp. 

“Killian,” she whispered, “look at the name by the door!”

“Lacey Cassidy!”

Killian looked down in shock at Emma’s face, and she gave him a small nod. Before the nurse could close the door behind her, the two of them rushed forward.

“We’re here to visit Mrs. Cassidy,” Killian told them. 

The nurse glanced down at their visitor’s badges, then suspiciously into their faces. “And who are you?”

“I was her son’s prom date,” Emma spoke up. 

The nurse’s eyes widened in understanding, and Emma didn’t miss the way she glanced at the small baby bump only recently noticeable under her ribbed tank. She hated the rumors and assumptions, but in this case, it worked in their favor.

“Go ahead,” the nurse conceded, stepping aside. 

They stepped into a room almost identical to Mary Margaret’s. A woman sat at the window seat, clothed in a hospital gown, and stared out the window. Her auburn hair hung wild down her back and in her face. Killian and Emma stepped towards her hesitantly.

“Hello,” Emma said gently. 

She didn’t turn away from the window or acknowledge their presence. 

“Belle?” Killian said, and Emma glanced at him with concern. He shrugged. 

The woman turned then, however, and stared at them for a long, weighted moment. “Yes,” she finally said, her voice scratchy, probably from all the screaming, “that was my name once.”

They drew closer, as if approaching a skittish animal. The woman turned back to the window, humming and twirling her hair. Emma gasped, for the song she hummed was “Scarborough Fair.”

“How do you know that song?”

Belle continued to hum for a few moments, then turned and stared right at Emma. “What kind of lover acts that way? Demanding difficult tasks to prove true love? That’s not true love at all.”

Emma and Killian glanced at one another. They’d never really cared to analyze the world view of the song, but they supposed she had a point. 

“My mother said true love is the strongest magic of all.”

“Yes,” Belle turned and leaned forward, beckoning them closer, “but he hates it!”

“He?” Killian asked. “You mean Rumplestiltskin?”

Belle grabbed both of Killian’s hands. “You’ll have to be strong. You’ll have to believe in her. He didn’t count on you, and it fills him with hate!”

[steelbluehome]

This is insufferable bragging but after I went to meet my kindergarten teacher, and she asked me several questions to gauge where I was educationally, she told my mom that I tested at a 2nd grade level. My parents decided not to just put me right into second grade, which I am happy about. But that's my best piece of lore.

No pressure tags @thethingsido4 @stuckydrewx @therulingqueen @huntressandlioness1 @wintersxldiers

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[lucathepanman]

✨️when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)🎶✨️

Very big thank you and @huntressandlioness1 for sending me this ask. I decided to answer in one post, if that's alright with you guys. :)

For the 5 songs I have:

Griftwood by Ghost

Birdhouse in Your Soul by They Might Be Giants

The Man Who Sold The World (Nirvana cover)

It's All So Incredibly Loud by Glass Animals

Kiss You Off by Scissor Sisters

[definegodliness]

Mount Timpanogos, Utah

From Utah's mountain, Referred to as Timp, One morning rolled down A latex-clad gimp; For velocity He gulped at his D, With his knees 'hind his ears To reach dat shrimp.

[bucky-barmes]

'rachel' playlist for @huntressandlioness1 ♥︎

here you go lovely

Send me your name and i'll make a mini playlist with the letters in your name

[killian-whump]

Rumple, Pan, Killian

OHHHHHH yay, non-Colins added to the mix 😂👍

If they were in a story... Oh gee. Wow. Well, we all already know Killian's gonna be the Whumpee. I mean, that goes without saying. And both Pan and Rumple are both excellent Whumpers. Either one of them would fill the role brilliantly. But Caretaker... Now that's a tough one. I'm gonna have to think about this one for a bit.

🤔

🤔

🤔

😈

Oh! You're still here? Oh, I guess I didn't answer that yet. Umm... Well, I think... Maybe Rumple's the Whumper in this tale, and Pan is the manipulative Caretaker who's only building up their prey for the worst whumping yet... 😈

Second part of the game... This one's gonna be tough!

If I was the Whumpee... Well, Killian. I wouldn't let those other two near me with a ten foot pole. Literally.

If I was the Whumper... Killian. I know, I know, he's already been picked, but... but I don't wanna whump Peter, he looks too young; I'd feel bad! It's okay when HE'S doing the whumping, 'cos I know he's NOT young and he's the instigator, but I'd still feel bad beating his little behind. And Rumple... Well, he's kinda old and I'd feel bad in an altogether different sort of way. Anyway, we all know I wanna whump Killian 😈

If I was the Caretaker... Killian. WHAT DO YOU MEAN, I'M CHEATING?! Look, this game is so unfair!!!

[stanfordsweater]

Freeze! You’re under arrest for being so lovely. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!!! 💞😃🌹

awww thank you 😘😳🥺 happy new year!!

[samsrowena]

↳ holiday GIFt requests ✧ samwena 🎁 (for anonymous)

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[samsrowena]

#post november 5th mood

↓ tag list (ask to be added/removed!) @castiellesbian @t4tstarvingdog @angelsdean @thigholstercas @amaranthhiding

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