(no subject)
So, I just defaulted on Femgen, which is suck a bummer. It was unavoidable and is small compared to the reasons why I'm defaulting, of course. Thing happening in Real Life. One sad event this past month and half was a family member dying (everyone is doing as well as can be expected, so small blessings there). The other reason is much better. It is positive and exciting. I'm going abroad to get my TEFL certification. Then, possibly, getting a job teaching english. We shall see.
Relavent to this, I'll be going on a hiatus in the next day or two...Will post something official looking later because that is so much classier than doing what I ususally just do when life gets busy (which is to just drop off the face of the earth or at least the internets).
Since there will be no kickass femgen stories (Yeah. I had TWO stories planned. I was totally gonna attack that hinata AU I mentioned even. It will happened someday, I'm sure....) Here's a Sasuke/Sakura ficlet from that Narutobanged meme:
Sometimes, she feels, that even though Sasuke’s here, even though Sakura could reach out and physically touch him, it is more like-
Like reading correspondence.
That’s what its like instead of talking to someone right there.
She relies on faces so much thorugh out the day, that smallest smile or a glare in the eyes that tells her something, but not him. He is always staring at nothing, blind in both literal and non-literal ways. She’s heard that people are more confessional and open in letters. That people in letters are, in some way, always talking to themselves as much as anybody else. For herself, that’s never been the case. There’s always an editor thinking say this, don’t mention that. Is my grammar right? This is especially true when writing to her mother whose no shinobi. You write only what you want someone to hear.
Sausuke is also familiar with the habit of acting a part. He’s nothing but words that mean nothing some days, some months even. Entire months have gone by since he-
Since he resigned as a ninja (she refuses to think of it any other way, even if the Hokage is her teacher, damnit.). One day, she thinks, she will be trusted enough again, loved enough again to touch him. And when that day comes she half-imagines it will be enough only for the small- fingers sliding against each other but never grabbing hold, shoulders bumping, nothing more, nothing further than that- and she will feel against her own skin not other skin but paper. Course, rough paper and a thousand words unsaid.
Relavent to this, I'll be going on a hiatus in the next day or two...Will post something official looking later because that is so much classier than doing what I ususally just do when life gets busy (which is to just drop off the face of the earth or at least the internets).
Since there will be no kickass femgen stories (Yeah. I had TWO stories planned. I was totally gonna attack that hinata AU I mentioned even. It will happened someday, I'm sure....) Here's a Sasuke/Sakura ficlet from that Narutobanged meme:
Sometimes, she feels, that even though Sasuke’s here, even though Sakura could reach out and physically touch him, it is more like-
Like reading correspondence.
That’s what its like instead of talking to someone right there.
She relies on faces so much thorugh out the day, that smallest smile or a glare in the eyes that tells her something, but not him. He is always staring at nothing, blind in both literal and non-literal ways. She’s heard that people are more confessional and open in letters. That people in letters are, in some way, always talking to themselves as much as anybody else. For herself, that’s never been the case. There’s always an editor thinking say this, don’t mention that. Is my grammar right? This is especially true when writing to her mother whose no shinobi. You write only what you want someone to hear.
Sausuke is also familiar with the habit of acting a part. He’s nothing but words that mean nothing some days, some months even. Entire months have gone by since he-
Since he resigned as a ninja (she refuses to think of it any other way, even if the Hokage is her teacher, damnit.). One day, she thinks, she will be trusted enough again, loved enough again to touch him. And when that day comes she half-imagines it will be enough only for the small- fingers sliding against each other but never grabbing hold, shoulders bumping, nothing more, nothing further than that- and she will feel against her own skin not other skin but paper. Course, rough paper and a thousand words unsaid.