Five Things
Mar. 6th, 2010 11:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raeschaeYesterday, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kiwiana posted this:
So, I commented, because I'm kind of curious as to what people think. And she responded with:
Tattoos: My absolute favorite form of self-expression. I love mine, and I love seeing whatever other people have (and especially hearing the stories behind them). They're beautiful, and unique, and yeah . . . I guess my kink for them isn't really a shock, right?
Talent: It's a weird thing, because if you have it and admit it, you sound arrogant. If you have it and you don't admit it, you sound either fake or insecure. *shrugs* I have it, but you probably won't ever hear me talk about it outside of this post.
Passion: In order -
1.) Music - Listening to it, making it, living and breathing it.
2.) People - Family, friends, anybody else that fits into the human category.
3.) Writing - Telling stories that have either never been told before, or just telling them in a way that hasn't been done to death.
Slash: Liberating. I used to kick against it, because it was expected from the bi girl. I gave in, though, and found a whole level of freedom I didn't even know existed in my writing.
Insanity: What I write, what I love, what I'm inexplicably drawn to, and what I will probably be committed for someday. What can I say? I'm a crazy bitch. ;)
So there it is.
And here's the challenge. I'm working on a new fic called Just Talk (Sometimes a Little Dirty) to Me, but it's coming a little slower than some of my other stories do.
In the meantime, I kind of want to challenge myself in a new way. So comment with a one-word prompt, and I will give you a ficlet of 1000 words or less.
kiwiana posted this: Leave a comment saying, "COMMENT" and I will give you five words I associate with you. Then post about what they mean to you, along with this, at your journal.
So, I commented, because I'm kind of curious as to what people think. And she responded with:
Tattoos: My absolute favorite form of self-expression. I love mine, and I love seeing whatever other people have (and especially hearing the stories behind them). They're beautiful, and unique, and yeah . . . I guess my kink for them isn't really a shock, right?
Talent: It's a weird thing, because if you have it and admit it, you sound arrogant. If you have it and you don't admit it, you sound either fake or insecure. *shrugs* I have it, but you probably won't ever hear me talk about it outside of this post.
Passion: In order -
1.) Music - Listening to it, making it, living and breathing it.
2.) People - Family, friends, anybody else that fits into the human category.
3.) Writing - Telling stories that have either never been told before, or just telling them in a way that hasn't been done to death.
Slash: Liberating. I used to kick against it, because it was expected from the bi girl. I gave in, though, and found a whole level of freedom I didn't even know existed in my writing.
Insanity: What I write, what I love, what I'm inexplicably drawn to, and what I will probably be committed for someday. What can I say? I'm a crazy bitch. ;)
So there it is.
And here's the challenge. I'm working on a new fic called Just Talk (Sometimes a Little Dirty) to Me, but it's coming a little slower than some of my other stories do.
In the meantime, I kind of want to challenge myself in a new way. So comment with a one-word prompt, and I will give you a ficlet of 1000 words or less.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 04:41 pm (UTC):)
*smooshes you*
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 04:42 pm (UTC)I only have one...and LOVE it....but am in the process of gettign another and can't WAIT. Ifound the design, but am having some changes made to it.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 05:08 pm (UTC)Angel Wings - on my back, between my shoulder blades - They're a little pointed, look a little like two Phoenixes facing off. I've collected Gotchic angels for years, so it was a no-brainer for my first tat. They signify protection for me, and the vague resemblance to the Phoenix signifies resilience for me, a reminder to rise above every time I get knocked down.
2 Corinthians 12:9 - circling my left wrist - The Bible verse is on the top of my wrist, and there are three red flowers, with vines and green leaves that complete the bracelet. My faith super-important to me, and the verse (My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. From The Message) is my constant reminder that I don't have to go through any of the hard stuff on my own.
Breast Cancer Ribbon - inner right forearm - My aunt was diagnosed late last year, and my best friend is a survivor. It's my tribute to the women in my family.
The next one I get will be a word down the back of my neck, but I've yet to find a word that I feel encapsulates me and everything I stand for completely enough.
Someday, I might take pictures and post them, but for now, there ya go.
And I'm adding "tomorrow" to my list of ficlet prompts. Thank you!
Tomorrow
Date: 2010-03-07 01:16 pm (UTC)So he doesn't really know why there's a ball of nervous energy sitting low in his gut, twisting and turning and making it's present a little more undeniable with every passing tick of the clock.
It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine.
“Ya know, if it's freaking you out this much, we don't have to do it.”
He turns to find Jensen leaning in the doorway, one ankle crossed over the other, beer bottle dangling between his fingers. Dressed only in a pair of jeans, he's totally at ease. Like tomorrow's not even happening.
“I'm sure your mother would just love that,” Jared shoots back, and even he can admit that it sounds a lot more snide than it's supposed to. It's not Jensen's fault that he's freaking out for no reason. “I'm fine. Just,” he shakes his head and goes back to the book that he's been pretending to read for the last twenty minutes, “Don't worry about it.”
Sarcastically, a small chuckle works it way out of Jensen's throat and he makes his way across the room to stand beside the bed. He sets his bottle on the nightstand and then flops down at Jared's side and steals his book away. Without further explanation, he rests a hand on Jared's thigh and begins working his lips and teeth against his neck.
He's good, Jensen is. Because Jared's brain stops worrying and basically melts inside his skull. “Wh-what're . . . Should . . . Jensen.” The name is growled, and Jared stops wanting to be left alone to his brooding, and starts hoping that Jensen never, ever stops sucking right there.
“My parents already love you,” Jensen whispers before biting down on the lobe of Jared's ear. “My sister adores you. My brother thinks your cool.” He nips at the line of his jaw. “My nephews think you're awesome, man.”
Jared turns his face to capture Jensen's lips in his own, and he forces himself not to consider the fact that, tomorrow, he's not hanging out at Jensen's parents' house as his co-star or his friend. For the first time, they're going to see him as something other than Jensen's “roommate.” And, sure, he's been around them a few times in the last couple of years, and they've always been cool. But he wasn't fucking their son/brother/uncle/grandson back then. Or, if he was, they didn't know it.
This could end very, very badly.
“Hey,” Jensen's voice is rough as gravel and smooth as whiskey against his ear. “Look at me.”
Jared does and when he turns his head, he's kind of blown away. It's weird, the way Jensen can still catch him off-guard with just his presence. It doesn't happen all the time, he's kind of gotten used to the guy he sees more than his own reflection in the mirror some days. But occasionally, he'll turn around and Jensen's just there. And something in his chest just sticks.
“You're gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine.”
There's so much sincerity in his eyes, so much conviction, that Jared can't help believing him. Jensen loves his family, and his family fucking adores him. They're going to love the person that Jensen loves. It's rational and logical and Jared has to choose to believe it or he's going to go out of his fucking mind.
He knows that he's too lost in his own head, in his own swirling thoughts, when Jensen straddles his lap and buries his fingers in his hair, and Jared didn't even notice him moving. He sure as hell notices when he grinds down against Jared, though, and nearly blinds him with that thousand-watt smile.
“How 'bout you stop thinkin' about my mom for a second,” he rolls his hips, hot and hard through his jeans, “And start thinkin' bout what I'm gonna do to you.”
Jared just nods, hands grasping Jensen's ass and forcing him closer.
Fuck tomorrow. This moment, right now, deserves his full and undivided attention.
Re: Tomorrow
Date: 2010-03-08 01:41 am (UTC)Re: Tomorrow
Date: 2010-03-10 03:05 am (UTC)Re: Tomorrow
Date: 2010-03-10 12:47 pm (UTC)