Tobirama doesn’t give a damn about gender roles and gender-assigned clothing. Madara really, really doesn’t mind. (Or, Tobirama in thigh-highs and heels. Madara's a fan.)

Kurama just wants to finish his nap in peace. A particularly idiotic human is making that rather hard.

For this ask on my Tumblr: IM IMAGINING THE WRITING THING AS MADATOBI NOW?? IMAGINE!! secret letters between enemy clans. tiny stick figure drawings of hashirama doing something stupid. instructions for a new jutsu. the possibilities are ENDLESS (Aka that soulmate AU where if you write something on your skin it also shows on the other’s.)

For a prompt from the lovely Holly: The Free! anime featuring Tobirama as a swimmer, with a water addiction like Haruka - and the same penchant for undressing at the first sight of water. Cue Madara blushing and flailing, while Tobirama gives zero shits.

No one in their right minds would ever expect it of him, and that’s why he’s the one best-suited to the job.

No one in their right minds would ever expect it of him, and that’s why he’s the one best-suited to the job.

Aka everyone is a superhero or a sidekick or a damsel in distress in true comic style. Includes terrible hero names, almost everyone wearing spandex (Sakumo why must you be sensible and break the mold you nerd), ridiculousness, secret identity fails, and all of my favorite crack pairings. I would be sorry, but that would require a sense of shame and I misplaced mine long ago.

The irresistible troll vs. the immovable hothead - fight!

For a prompt on my Tumblr: Playboy!Orochimaru who ends up with Single Dad!Sakumo in the end. No understands what happened.

It had been a drunken whim, coming on the heels of his breakup with Yugao, to add his name to the list of candidates for political marriages, and even when he’d remembered the next morning Hayate had waved off the notion that anyone would pick him. Most people are at least mildly alarmed by a shinobi with a chronic illness, after all.

Sentinel, Genma thinks, and it’s not really a surprise—the Shiranui Clan have always produced about equal numbers of Guides and Sentinels—but… Guide, something in him whispers, and it’s desperate, grasping, clinging to the beat of the man’s heart. Guide, Guide, Guide, and Genma breathes him in, feels the stirring deep in his soul that tastes of old things and instincts and wants to reach—

Obito glances over Sakura, sprawled out on the couch painting her nails, and raises a brow. “I thought Kakashi told you to leave?” “Ha.” Sakura checks her nails, then starts applying another coat. “He has like three hundred sports channels. I'm not moving an inch.”

“Well,” Kit says lightly. “This does seem to be a predicament, doesn’t it?” Pressed right up against him, gauntlets digging bruises into his almost-bare hips, Dogma squeezes his eyes tightly shut. “I'm going to kill my whole squad,” he says, perfectly certain and resigned to it.

There's a moment of absolute silence as Fives and Echo trade startled glances, Rex gapes at Obi-Wan, and Kix and Jesse freeze, eyes widening. Then, deliberately, awkwardly, Rex clears his throat, face about four shades redder than it was a moment ago. “General, you—you know Quinlan?” No wonder they made it out of the smuggler’s mansion in one piece. Obi-Wan breathes in through his nose, lets it out, and then says, “Very well, yes. Quinlan Vos, I thought you were dead, and instead you were—were—playing hooker to a crime lord!”

Thire's grimace is apologetic, but that doesn’t stop him from saying, “We’ve got a guy from that group of infiltrators who got rounded up last night asking to speak with command.” Fox waits, brow raised, because if every lowlife who wanted to talk to command ended up in his office he’d never do anything else. Thire knows that, too. If this guy rates a mention, there’s a reason. Thire's expression says he needs a vacation, and also someone else willing to play messenger. “He says he’s a Jedi, sir.”

With a sound of quiet sympathy, Kit reaches out, tapping his knuckles lightly against Rex's pauldron. “Forgive me, Captain, but I believe you would be far more comfortable without your armor. The beach cannot be a pleasant place for you right now.” Rex pauses, almost startled by the idea of taking his armor off. He’s on a mission, or at least the disastrous tail end of one, and unless he’s on leave, he almost never strips down to his blacks. And it’s been…months, since his last stretch of leave that wasn’t cut off before it even started. “Oh,” he says dumbly, and then flushes, reaching for the clasps on his armor. “Right, sorry, sir.”

Jedi are dragons.

In an attempt to find an ancient weapon that will let them fight a Sith Lord on equal ground, Jon seeks out a lost Jedi Temple on a war-torn world. Saving two clone troopers isn't anywhere in the plan, and letting them tag along with him seems like inviting trouble, but Jon does it anyway. It's possible that Knol has a point about his instincts getting him killed one of these days.

Boba attempts to set his father up with someone interesting. It would probably go a lot smoother if that someone wasn't a Jedi. And if there weren't monsters all around the town that were about to make themselves a problem.

“What is that?” Thire asks, wrinkling his nose as Fox marches past him. He immediately turns to open a window. Fox snorts, lifting a boot to kick Thorn where he’s sprawled out on the couch. Thorn groans, but raises his head, and Fox jerks his head at him. “A Jedi,” he answers, and Thorn freezes, eyes widening.

This was supposed to be a vacation.

Jango's eyes flicker up, down, up again, and it’s meant to be dismissive, but Shaak knows wariness when she sees it, and it makes her smile just a little. “Lady, I just tried to put a slug through that fancy headdress of yours.” With a chuckle, Shaak takes a step closer. “Fett, I've been a Jedi for decades. If I held a grudge against everyone who had tried to kill me, I would have more enemies than you.”

Fox has a second chance, a to-do list, a stolen lightsaber, and a complete willingness to give everyone around him grey hairs. And a Jedi Master to seduce. It's going to be a ride.

“What?” Rex's voice shades towards alarm. “Cody, that’s a bad idea—” “You can't go,” Cody says reasonably. “You have to monitor communications and make sure the generals have an extraction ready if they need it. Ghost Company’s down half its men right now, so I have the chance.” “That’s exactly the tone you used when you explained why you were overcome with the urge to punch General Grievous in the metal face,” Rex informs him. “Cody, no.”

The planetary security forces have captured a Sith, and Maul has nothing but a bad feeling about this.

There’s something strange about the bounty hunter the marks hired for this job, but Granta can't quite put his finger on it.