Five Things

[raeschae]

Yesterday, 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.

Comments

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

“Ya know what I love about your face,” Jared muses one afternoon while they're laying on the couch, lazily enjoying a rare afternoon off.

Jensen's not big on the cuddling, but having Jared's legs tangled with his while they sit on opposite ends of the couch and stare blankly at the movie on the television is pretty nice. “My face?” he quirks an eyebrow and turns his head to see Jared staring at him with a look that says he has no intention of returning his attention to the movie any time soon.

He nods and narrows his eyes a little before smiling even wider than he was a second ago. “It's perfect.”

“Thank you,” Jensen rolls his eyes and looks back to the television. “That's very . . . something . . . of you.”

“Nah, man, c'mon. I mean it,” Jared nudges Jensen's thigh with his toe. “There are a lotta good lookin' guys in the world, but there's not many perfect ones.” He sits up a little straighter and leans forward, as if trying to get a closer look. “Strong jaw, good nose, eyes that are both symmetrical and a great color. Your mouth,” he shakes his head and runs his tongue along his bottom lip, “Well, I don't have to tell you how perfect your mouth is.”

Jensen can feel the blush in his cheeks, which is awesome because another perk of being fair-skinned and virtually allergic to the sun is that he looks like a giant tomato when he's embarrassed. “Whatever, man,” he tries to shrug it off.

But it's hard to shrug someone off when they're roughly the size of a mountain. Jared's fingers walk up Jensen's shin and rest on his knee. “The best part, though? Is when you've been out in the sun. Because then you look all flushed, and your freckles stand out more.”

“Man, fuck you.” There's no bite to the words, but there's no real 'lightness' in his tone, either.

Then Jared's hand on his knee tightens, and when Jensen looks back at him, there's genuine warmth, and love, staring back at him. “I don't know anybody who makes freckles look as sexy as you do, Jensen. Sometimes, when the sun's really bright, I think about locking you out of the house for an hour, just to see more of 'em.”

And when he puts it like that, Jensen thinks maybe it's not so bad to be fair-skinned and freckle-faced. Of course, he also realizes that Jared's mind is kind of a scary place. “You're so fuckin' weird sometimes,” he shakes his head and laughs a little, but he runs his foot down the inside of Jared's thigh and presses a little further back into the couch cushions.

“Yeah,” Jared agrees and relaxes into his original spot, legs tightening around Jensen's just a little. “Love you, too, man.”

Alright, so maybe there are worse things in the world than being sensitive to the sun.

[taintedlove.livejournal.com]

Perfect. That was just absolutely perfect. <3

[raeschae.livejournal.com]

Yay! I'm glad you liked it!