Jul 25, 2020
day 25 of sasusaku month: small victories 🎓
“when you’re there, all my victories seem so small.”
seen from South Korea
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Thailand
seen from Israel
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Ireland
seen from Japan
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
day 25 of sasusaku month: small victories 🎓
“when you’re there, all my victories seem so small.”
Misplaced dynamics
Summary: Sasuke and Sakura are fated mates, but they were never supossed to bond this early.
Rating: T
Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno, Kakashi Hatake, Naruto Uzumaki
Relationships: Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Uchiha, Team seven
For the Sasusaku month day 1: Stuck with you
Warning: Dubious consent but not sexual in nature, fantasy dubcon
Superstar Series
Chapter 06: A New Beginning
Summary: It’s new years, which means the start of a new year, but also the start of a blossoming relationship.
Rating: K.
Prompt: SSM 2020 Day 26: something sweet
A/N: I thought this chapter fits well to the prompt, so I’m dedicating this chapter for SSMonth day 26!
New Years Eve. A day full of festivities as families gather together and celebrate the arrival of a new year, new beginning.
The office is empty since most of the staff has gone back to their hometowns to be with their families.
8:00PM.
Sakura glances at the clock on the wall before letting out a heavy sigh. Of all places she could be, she decides to spend her whole New Years Eve at the office doing some pesky paper work. She did promise her parents she is going to go home on New Years Day. She just doesn’t want a pile of work to be waiting for her when she comes back from her short needed vacation.
“It’s okay it’ll all be worth it.” She says to herself. Stacks of paper adorn the table in the conference room. Having the whole office for herself means having a larger workspace compared to the usual 8x8 cubicle space-even though that’s already considered spacious compared to other offices.
Without a time to waste, she begins scribbling down notes, stacking paper on top of paper, putting them into folders before setting them aside on the corner of the table.
She’s too engrossed in her task that she doesn’t notice Sasuke walking pass the half opaque half transparent glass wall that covers the conference room. Sasuke stops in his tracks before knocking on the door and peaking inside.
“Sakura?”
Charasaku💕 Honestly there is so less Charasuke content that‘s why I drew them and I think their dynamic is rly underrated.
Do not repost witgout credit/permission
Insta/Twitter: jyacira1
Superstar Series
Chapter 02: Can You Feel Without Thinking?
Summary: Being in charge as Sasuke’s stylist sure is challenging, when you have to pretend you’re only focusing on your job and not caring whether he would spare a glance once or twice.
Rating: K
*A/N: In honor of 2020 Sasusaku Month, I’ve decided to dedicate this chapter to Sasusaku Month Day 8, prompt: “Let’s Play Pretend”.
As early as it may be, K4 has to go on with their next schedule. Being famous comes with many perks but time is what they lack of. Frequently being called for commercial shoots, press interviews, magazine photo shoots, they are constantly moving from one place to another, every seven days of the week. Of course Shikamaru can allow one, two or more free days.
But today is not one of those days. The car ride to the photo shoot seems to drag on forever as their minds are wandering, venturing the fields, through the morning mist as the horizon moves pass them.
The one-hour ride finally comes to an end and the four of them step out of the car, followed by the staff members and of course, Shikamaru the manager.
They’re going to do a drink’s commercial shoot, and Sakura has to admit, this is one of those shoots that she will enjoy.
Da Capo al Fine
SasuSaku Month -- Prompt #2: Lessons Learned
[Four lessons she learns, and one she learns twice.]
1. She learns that love is blind.
She learns that the foundations of her affections were not logical or steady, not brought upon by a chance moment of romance in a quaint park. Their parents were not friends; she did not meet him while holding her mother or father’s hands, a chance passing. The sun was not shining on them, nor was it a day of particular note. There’s no underlying notion of destiny, impelling sense of fate involved.
Skies did not light up, and fireworks were dismally absent.
She just remembers that he was beautiful, and the most he could manage to give her was an awkward half-smirk, torn in half. Pain on one side, fear of interaction on the other, sprinkled with an emotionally curbed personality courtesy of vapid and obsessed little girls. His story was the gossip they gnawed on, passed among them in the form of pocket-sized talismans.
But there was so much more to him than that. Never did she forget his face. Long after every girl her age told her to give it up, that he wasn’t worth it, her heart rebelled. The only part of her as a child that was so incredibly stubborn, it refused to bend or break. Growing out of her phase is not an option in the face of love, one that hardly makes sense. All she knows is he has a chasm in his heart; gaping, cavernous, a void. Brimming with love, she pours it all in.
She’s been burned by the flame enough that she’s quiet, now. She thinks it’s one-sided, but everyone else knows.
If only she ever caught a glimpse of his handsome face, all the times he smirked before turning away.
.:.:.:.:.:.
2. She learns that no matter how hard she tries, they will always see her in the ways they want.
Her Sensei will always see her as the girl he lost. It’s why he thinks she can’t handle the truth, why he smiles beneath the cloth which masks his face. Why she receives shoulder-pats and hair-ruffles and once in a while, embraces and someone to wipe away tears, for good reasons, or perhaps not. Every time – when she’s cried over her first love to a recent awkward encounter in a seedy bar – his uncovered eye lingers on her right shoulder, as if his teammate’s ghost smiles at him from that faraway place.
Sometimes, he could drown in that place, with that girl; Sakura knows.
Her friend will always have a lingering soft spot. She can see it when she succumbs to tears, cries her lover’s name in an ugly emotional display. When she’s on her lover’s arm, dolled up to perfection, and they pass with significant others in tow, quiet in the night. She’s rebuffed him so often, one would think it would fade. But no – she implores him with her eyes to keep it to himself, and look at his own girl. It’s not love, and they both know that. It’s a childish love, a scrap of his past, a lost tally in the legendary rivalry. She hates being a part of it, but that is how they see her, and some things will never change.
Sometimes, he could drown in that young ideal again; Sakura knows.
But her peers will always see her as the glue that kept their legend together – and the girl who breathed life into a traitor.
.:.:.:.:.:.
3. She learns that the first time you kill someone, there’s no one that can comfort you.
It is not necessarily that everybody is busy or does not want to; just that no one can.
She feels power in her hands, in her fingers, in her veins. The sound of the snapped vertebrae of the neck does not fade. She hears it in ordinary instances, such as the wind shutting a door with a sharp click. In the middle of a sunny day, a wispy but sharp final breath follows her around the hospital, lingering in her ears. She spirals into the mental gymnastics of “what if’s” that give the victim shape, identity, and love.
Her boss takes a drink. Her Sensei gets himself lost. Her friends give empty words.
Her lover runs a thumb over her dangerous palms, but says that it is a milestone she confronts alone.
Still, if he could do it for her, he would.
.:.:.:.:.:.
4. She learns that Shinobi coping mechanisms usually involve indulgent variations of alcohol and sex.
And that being a medic as well as a good girl does not absolve her from falling into the patterns of many great and talented ninja before her.
She thinks it has to be a phase, and that her boss’s habits could never possibly rub off on her. And if they did, she could remedy the issue with sheer willpower.
It takes her years to realize the toll of existence, healing, failing, living. Losing an entire squad only to wake up the next morning and face the world again. The sick do not wait, the dying do not pause, and enemies are endless.
She never seems to feel the same way when she approaches him. She’s a hot mess. It happens the other way around, although he does not have to be nearly as intoxicated, and emits about a tenth of the babbling she does. It’s always easier to kiss her to shut her up. There’s a lot of anger, hurt, laced with laughter. Some nights her dress is red because she chooses it; others, because she’s lost the fight. Once in a while, she just needs something to throw around like a rag doll, something not easily bruised; he never admits he’s always glad to oblige. And sometimes, she just needs to be held while she asks herself if all her work is worth it, while she frantically scrubs every last microscopic inch of her skin. Death follows her to bed, and he tries his best to bar the doors.
The fact that her peers all do the same thing does not bring them together; it drives them behind closed doors to personal choices of drink, pain, and kinks.
One morning, she wakes up beside him with the cottony taste of overindulgence on her tongue. Kisses his shoulder – his sweat tastes of liquor.
She’s not mystified by her boss’s behavior anymore.
.:.:.:.:.:.
5. She learns that love is blind (again) – and it’s okay she didn’t learn it the first time.
For years, everybody watches him watch her, and smile only when she looks away. They warn him, in their own ways, that she could always wise up, grow up. Figure it out.
But love did not have that logic.
Something skips and thrums in her heart every time he’s around. She’s a little lighter, too giddy. All the feelings she should have had at the tender age of eight, not now as an adult.
She never sees it coming, the day he quietly escorts her to the empty alleys and proud houses that once reigned as staunch and serious symbols of his powerful clan. The day he silently walks around, feeling the ghosts of dead family members brushing by, wanting a straightforward answer. The day his mother, with all her love and blessing, whispers to him in a quiet breeze. He knows his choice.
The day he takes Sakura’s face in his hands and asks, “Will you?”