I decorated this box I had with various video game characters made from sticky foam sheets. So far, I’ve just been storing strategy guides in it 😊 This took quite a long time, I believe it was an entire summer!
Striking up conversation with my hot Mesopotamian farmer woman date: Yeah I’m really mostly into prehistoric beats, early homonid vibes, ancient cave dweller sounds. beating rocks together, slapping your thighs, tapping bones, “ooga boogas” and deep throat grunting. stuff from before agriculture. hunter-gatherer rhythms on OG drums made from animal hides a little, but more impromptu jam sessions centered around water dripping from a stalactite. I listened to a few hymns to the fertility godess with horse hair string on a gourd accompaniment but I think it’s pretty formulaic stuff from the temple priests who don’t really, like, care about the music more than they care about getting as much grain to offer as sacrifice, you know?
The quiet night air was filled with the angry silence of a gunshot as Dean squeezed the trigger and the gun cried out in a flash of silver coloured rage. And for a moment, just in the time between one heartbeat and the next, Dean was filled with the unimaginable dread of not knowing which of his what ifs would become his new reality. Would the bullet hit its target? Would his actions put the civilians at risk? Would Sammy still be standing? Then the world returned with a fury as the smell of the winter night air and frost was replaced with the heavy, hot smell of gunpowder as the revolver kicked back in his hand like a wild horse not wanting to be reined in.
Refocusing on the scene in front of him the dread left Dean for good as he watched the shifter let go of his little brother as the bullet lodged in the monster’s shoulder. Making him cry out like a wounded animal and aim for the woods. Faster somehow, as if the reality of his pain finally made shifter tap into whatever strength lay hidden behind his latest mask.
Still, Dean knew they were faster. Years of training, of hunting and running both towards and away from danger did that to a person. Even in formalwear. Though Dean did miss his normal hunting gear as the tux restricted his movement, making (Y/N) reach the shifter first and cut off his straight path for the woods.
With (Y/N) in front of the bastard, Sammy to the side and Dean covering the open garden they had the sick fucker more or less surrounded. The shifter’s eyes were wild as he looked at the three of them. His movements small and erratic, like a trapped animal, he turned in a tight circle between the three of them. His breaths were coming fast and hard as his eyes followed their rhythm. Looking from one hunter to the next. From Sammy, who clutched the cut in his arm, yet still looked as deadly as ever as his injured arm aimed the silver kissed blade toward the monster. To (Y/N) who looked like wild fury, barefoot and clad in silk. Like the cover of a classic rock album. To Dean, who could feel his own need for action bubble right under his skin like a million pinpricks of energy and light.
Their prey was trapped. And Dean found himself smiling whilst he watched the bastard shake in front of him.
While Ickle’s talent doesn’t manifest physically, the colors we see are what an aura reader, or perhaps someone with synesthesia (like Ickle), would see. Most of the time she sees herself blending into the world around her in favor of focusing on ponies–now is the time to focus on herself and make decisions for her well-being.
This is my first time posting a fic and or writing something like this so beware. Also, this prompt was for my girl Cece. Jealous!seb is a weakness.
“Rachel, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Kurt said quietly as he watched Rachel set their makeshift bar in their apartment.
Rachel giggled as she arranged shot glasses, and watched as the red solo cups formed higher mountains on the table. The bottles of rum and vodka were all arranged delicately surrounding a huge punch bowl, and Kurt’s eyes widened as she began to pour random combinations of the two foul smelling liquids inside.
“Rachel!,” Kurt exclaimed, snatching one of the bottles out of her hand. “Are you trying to have a house warming party or send everyone to the hospital?”.
“Just trying to throw the party of the year, babe!” Rachel said she grabbed the gallon of fruit punch on the table. “Maybe you’ll actually loosen up tonight and finally muster up the courage to tell Sebastian how much you LOOOVE him,” she said mockingly as she danced around her best friend.
Kurt rolled his eyes and groaned. “Like that’s going to happen. He just sees me as our friend, we’ve been over this how many times, Rachel?” Kurt said brokenly, taking a seat on the couch. The brunette followed him, somehow already having a glass of her demon-punch concoction in her hand.
“I mean, come on. He’s like, insanely gorgeous, plays lacrosse.. what do I do? Sing showtunes and change up my afternoon smoothie occasionally? I’m so in over my head,” Kurt said, putting his face in his hands.
Kurt felt like he had the same thoughts swirling in his head for weeks now. Sebastian had recently just became close with him and Rachel when they somehow ended up sitting next to him in one of the worst classes ever. With a few late night homework sessions and lunch dates, Sebastian had immersed himself into Rachel and Kurt’s quiet lives.
Kurt really only had Rachel to lean on before Sebastian came along, and well, that came with its price, and now it felt like he was trapped inside some twisted love story. Sebastian was gorgeous. And gay. And available. And perhaps the greatest, most sarcastic, asshole slut he had ever met.
“I definitely believe in fluidity in swings. We all have different body types and you gotta find what logically works best for you. So I do have movement, even though it doesn’t look fluid to you in my mind it’s very fluid. It looks a little ‘spazzy’ a lot of people will call it. But to me that’s the rhythm of my body.”
“The Hales are dangerous, Lydia,” Jackson butted in, coming to Stiles’ rescue. “Haven’t you heard the rumors about how they eat newly turned weres on the night of the full moon?”
“Wha-” Stiles let out a strangled noise and Jackson patted him in fake sympathy, suppressing his usual cocky smile.
“Well, haven’t you heard the rumors about how they grow horns and a pointed tail and carry a pitchfork on other nights?” Allison countered, huffing out a soft laugh. “Those rumors are ridiculous,”
“Can we please stop talking about the Hales?” Stiles pleaded, shivering and tired, rubbing the towel over his flat dripping hair. “…especially Derek, who still scares me,” he swallowed hard.
[aka, even though Talia Hale’s first and foremost plan on moving to Beacon Hills was to “Clean up the Hale image”, Derek looked far too contented with his “Scaring the shit out of Stiles” plan. Just - he didn’t know Stiles was already of age and maybe transforming into something pretty badass any day]
Me - “Ok, Purple going away from the gate, left handed to the blue stripes, left handed again to the brush box diagonal line, hard right to the oxer, roll back to the green, the in and out, and over the coop to finish!”
He took a deep breath, scanning himself in the mirror. He pulled out what little "cowboy" gear he had, purely to entertain Maya. Usually just a t-shirt and jeans would do it if he was going to be on the farm but he wanted to make Maya laugh so he decked himself out with cowboy boots and all. Adjusting the cowboy hat on his hat he chuckled at his reflection before walking away from the mirror and down his stairs. "Mama, I'm going to go pick Maya up. I'm takin' her to a farm today," he called to his mother, who was in the living room watching 4 Weddings. "Okay, baby boy. Make sure you give her a hug and kiss for me, I'm making pork chops tonight and she's invited if she wants," the older woman replied with a smile. Lucas nodded in response, grabbing the picnic basket he packed for him and Maya off the table and heading out the door. He unlocked his car, putting the basket in the back seat and heading towards Maya's apartment. Upon arrival, he texted Maya that he was outside. As he waited, he tapped the rhythm of the Hunter Haye's song that was playing on the radio. He wasn't kidding when he said he went all out.