Sasuke is a top-class bread maker invited to the set of Japan's number one culinary show where he meets the infamous-and deliciously sinful-pastry chef, Uzumaki Naruto. NaruSasu

Maybe it's alright to take what you can, when you can. It isn't perfect, it might be wrong, but soon enough you'll end up alone anyway. Series of loosely connected ficlets.

"I'm sure you're not going to care, it's very weak of me," Haru tells Sasuke, almost casual. "I'm in love with you. It's not hero-worship. It's not a phase. I am not confused." Silence. Sasuke's expression doesn't change at all. Haru knows better than to think he didn't hear, or misunderstood. He probably suspected it a while ago. But it's alright (it's not, it hurts.) This isn't the reason Haru brought them both here.

Kakashi distracts Iruka from work for a while. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Kakashi/Iruka, authority. Porn with Characterization. Vaguely associated with the Avalanche 'verse, but not actually part of the arc.

Sakura spends a year in Narnia. Susan watches, and does her best to help.

It’s not like it’s rare at his gigs for someone to sidle up to the booth and go, “Hey! Nice music!”, grinning and interested. "If you’re hitting on me, queue’s on your left," Dave replies, and then he looks.

bkprsn101 (18:16:50):I had, like, five minutes bkprsn101 (18:16:57):and then there was Dave/Naruto Askerian (18:17:04):i’d say i’m sorry but i’d be lying

"Holy crap", the guy says, sprawled on Dave’s bed with arms akimbo. Dave swallows a smirk, and pushes his hand off so he can lay down beside him, side by side. No contact though, they’re both too warm and sweaty.

Ten facts about three Hogwarts students.

When Kakashi first began to see people's souls manifested as animals, he naturally assumed he had lost his mind. (Using HDM themes, but not a true crossover.)

Kakashi is like a stray cat, and Iruka knows damn well that he shouldn't feed Kakashi if he doesn't want Kakashi to keep coming around.

Sasuke discovers something about the Uchiha clan.

kchanlp: NaruSasu + Itachi. Maybe hipster? In which big brother has to teach Sasuke how he should first and foremost close the goddamn door when his goddamn boyfriend is in his room doing goddamn... things.

"You can't tell me you didn't pick up jack shit while you were living with the tongue freak and his harem of boytoys." It shouldn't be difficult for three teammates and friends to figure out how they fit, both figuratively, and... not. And yet.

For the sake of his pride, Jiraiya's going to imagine that his double went out in the bed of some voracious and lusty twins—no, make that triplets, with everyone wildly satisfied and a smile on his face. The whole alternate universe thing is easier to swallow that way.

Sakura just wants everyone to get along, almost as much as she wants to get laid.

After the loss of his wife and his predecessor, Minato throws himself into his work, leaving his son almost entirely alone. Naruto grows up shunned but never outright reviled, aware of his burden and achingly lonely. But it’s not his way to give up, and someday, with the help of Kakashi, Obito, and a few faithful friends, he’s going to show his father just what kind of shinobi he can be.

There’s a kind of clarity that reminds you why you’re completely fucked. Sakura's team is clueless. It would just figure.

Naruto has a secret. So does Sasuke. And Sakura. Just how were the genin teams picked again?

“Oh,” she says, white hands clenched into tight fists. “I’m-- I was your student. Haruno Sakura.” Kakashi tilts his head, gray eye analyzing her carefully for tells. He finds nothing. “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” he says flatly. (Kakashi wakes up fourteen years old.)

This day may have arrived sooner than she originally thought, but Yoshino couldn't have said she was all that surprised.

"Once upon a time in Fire Country, O my Best Beloved, three Ninjas went on a D-rank mission to retrieve a Cat..." A tale in the style of Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories. Very silly.

Team 8 in a quiet moment during the timeskip, with lots of speculation about the origin and nature of the Aburame clan's bond with their kikkai. Fluffy enough to rot your teeth.

Kakashi held up a hand. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”

"One has to wonder if it's all the perverts you're attracted to, or just the crazy ones.”

The dust settled slowly. Dirt coated the bodies strewn about like discarded clay dolls, clung to Naruto's skin like another layer of clothing. His blood pounded in his ears like frantic drums, and the sickly sweet metallic scent of blood hung thick in the air over the muted undertones of upturned earth. His fingers hurt from where they were clenched tight around the scrap of green fabric. He took in one choked breath, then another. Only forty seconds had passed.

Shikamaru was never napping in this particular area of the forest ever again. In fact, he might never set foot outside his apartment if given a choice and the ability to sneak quietly away without being spotted by the two high-level jounin below him. They looked to be distracted, but there was no way in hell Shikamaru was risking being caught catching them at what they were doing.

Temari couldn't bake worth shit. It was commonly known among the village that Temari wasn't exactly a girlie-girl, but before their marriage Shikamaru'd had no concept of just how much the traditional wife he would be.

Gaara's breath breezed soft against Lee's thigh. "Hold still." Lee did her best to stop moving, but it was difficult.

Gaara calls the shots; Lee gets the attention; but Sakura inevitably gets what she wants.

"Temari, if you make me kiss him, you will regret it." Gaara's voice brooked no opposition.

The first time rain and Temari’s visits coincided, she stood in Shikamaru’s garden for three hours before coming in, soaked, shivering, and grinning from ear to ear. Her clothes were plastered to her body, every curve revealed, ponytails weighed down and dark with water, dripping all over the floor of the entrance with complete disregard for the mess.

Temari and her family, before and after the demon.

Sakura at work, because damn it, medic-nin should be scary to fight.

With the Kyuubi’s help, Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke have successfully landed in the past, armed with a completely fleshed-out plan to get rid of the bad guys and save the world. (Again.) The only problem? When it comes to the transmigration of souls and time-travel jutsus done under the influence, Kurama has absolutely, incredibly terrible aim.

He was a chuunin academy teacher, not a courtier trained in statecraft and diplomacy.

“Oh my god, Obito, I don’t care that you keep turning our roommates into mindless zombies devoted to serving your will, but in the name of everything holy, at least stop putting them in thrall when you're singing Taylor Swift songs in the shower.”

Obito snatches up the abandoned bottle, jogs three steps, and hurls it with all the force he can manage at the back of the white-haired litterer’s head, snarling, “Hey, asshole! It’s called recycling!”

Shikamaru walks into a trap

In the aftermath of war, Temari stands beside him, steady. And Shikamaru finally understands.

She's the extractor, not that she looks it. Most people walk on by her without realizing that she can–and will make their lives agony beyond their imagining to get what she wants. She comes in looking like little more than a florist's daughter: low necked shirt, mesh, a short skirt and a bundle of flowers wrapped up. Her gloves are long and made of thick leather which the poison can't quite get through. She plucks a hybrid rose and examines it a moment. Let the prisoner think a geisha has come to him; she's had training in that manner as well. Unlike Sakura who wore her heart on her sleeve, Ino could be the honeypot, the poison thorn.

"...any of your parent’s friends have any kids of less than, say, six years of age?" "No, not that I know of." "Huh-huh.” A suspicion suddenly crystallized in Tsunade’s mind. Between her fingers, her punch glass started to crack.

Spring fever can be a distracting ailment, even for Shinobi.

It was seven forty four PM, not that Iruka was watching the clock at all. He'd be an idiot to watch the time and expect Hatake Kakashi to show up for a date at eight o'clock.

A musing on the social and legal construction of childhood in hidden villages. Downbeat and philosophical.

30 young sand sibling drabbles, wherein Temari is (sometimes) a lady, Kankurou doesn't play nice with the other kids, and Gaara is perhaps a little socially inept.

Utakata has never considered himself overly important in the grand scheme of things. But when, rather than returning to the afterlife, he finds himself back in a Kiri controlled by the Sandaime Mizukage, he makes a choice. A few well-placed changes might be enough to shift the course of the future, in the end.

He cannot help but compare himself to the swords that hang on the wall, silver and pale and edged with red, kept in sheathes until they're needed to kill. (At five years old he takes a needle and inks red into his own skin, sharp slashes like the cut of a knife on each cheek, and it’s the first time Uchiha Tajima ever looks at him and smiles.)

An alternate Naruto ending, in which there are ghosts with a plan, teams reunited, apologies, and happy endings all around.

Everyone's born with their soulmate's first words to them written on their skin, and that should make things easy, but it really doesn't. "Roy has alternatively despised his mark and clung to it like a lifeline. Colonel. Just one word, right at the back of his foot. His literal Achilles’ heel."