I AM FORCIBLY REMOVED FROM THE INTERNET. Probably because I really enjoy writing tragedies, too. My name is Tabu and I am an educator who cries about fictional characters an awful lot. This is my writing blog, by the way — my main blog can be found here. For more links, please click the navigation link below. established 13/11/16
@delightfulharmonypoetry said: um. um. um. why is this not a full length thing? why stop? why? i just no get it. i just no get it at all. (there might be a weepy tantrum occurring over my keyboard. pay no attention. just expressing my love for this one shot)
—
I’m sorry for responding to this now, I only just saw it! That being said, well. I hope to have something for this AU completed one day, but, alas. Real life is just way too demanding, I’m afraid. Even so, I’m glad you enjoyed it nonetheless! Seeing your reply really made my day. c:
Can you write about Neji helping tenten through a tough pregnancy?
anon i just want to start off by saying that given my propensity for writing Depressing Shit ™ this probably no where near what you were hoping for — i can’t say i have any regrets for writing it however bc this was legitimately the first thing that came to mind when i saw your request :p
(also in case you were not aware i tend to not really check this blog anymore as i usually just stick to my main blog over at @tabine — additionally i’ve moved all my naruto writing over to @shitty-ninja-brats so yeah there you go)
after a great many failed attempts at the task, it is with a low groan of exertion and thinly-veiled fatigue that tenten finally manages to push herself off the couch in order to head to the kitchen for the leftover chinese food she has stored away in her fridge.
neji can’t help but smile wryly to himself as he watches her bustle around the tiny space, her navigation of the cramped quarters made even more difficult by the limited mobility of her heavily-pregnant frame.
“you’re a jerk for putting me in this situation, you know,” she says, then, as if she were reading her thoughts.
then again, she’s always managed to know what he was thinking at any given point of time — perhaps it is for this reason that neji says nothing, his silence answer enough, and he merely watches tenten, waits patiently for her to return to the living room.
he does not wait long: tenten returns shortly thereafter, a plate of reheated dumplings in one hand, a glass of water in the other. neji pretends not to notice how her eyes are now curiously rimmed in pink, the way her lower lip trembles only the slightest bit.
“you’re a jerk,” she repeats, voice barely above a whisper as she stares at the small framed photograph of his face in the simple shrine across the room, “and i’m never going to forgive you for it.”
“i know,” neji replies, all-too-aware that she can neither see nor here him. nonetheless he steps closer, wraps his arms around her, ignoring the way she passes through his spectral form on her journey back to the couch. “my apologies.”
Life, Tenten has come to learn, works in strange mysterious and barely comprehensible ways. Still, even she could never have fathomed just how the events of their shared past would lead them here, to this little pub somewhere in Suna, and the corner of her mouth quirks in a wry half-smirk for the briefest of moments, at the dark irony of it all.
From his seat across the table, Neji watches her detachedly, without the barest hint of expression. Tenten tells herself she doesn’t care, even as her fingers tighten around the tall glass of lager in her hand.
But Neji, keen-eyed and ever observant, catches the movement all the same. His eyes narrow as he watches her bring the glass to her lips, and when she glares at him over the rim, he mimics the action with his own drink in turn. The apple of his throat bobs when he swallows, and the look he sends her is unreadable when he says, “You look good, Tenten.”
She scoffs, setting her drink down with more force than intended. Some of the beer sloshes onto her fingers, and down the side of the glass, but she pays it little attention. “Just get to the point, Hyuuga,” she tells him. “I find it hard to believe that you tracked me down after three years of no contact just to tell me I look good.”
“What, no thank you?” Neji leans toward her, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his pale, thin lips.
“You don’t deserve one.”
Neji’s smile fades quickly, and he pulls away. “I suppose I do not.”
The absence of his warmth is more disappointing than Tenten wants to admit. She frowns and clenches her teeth, biting out a terse, “Tell me what you want, Hyuuga, so I can get back to my life.”
“You.” His voice is quiet and matter-of-fact. “I want you.”
Reblog my story link, so that people who aren’t following me will see it too. Maybe add a comment or tags about how much you enjoyed it.
Leave a short comment on AO3.
Biggish things you can do that will make an author very happy:
Make your own post reccing my story, and telling people what you enjoyed about it.
Leave a detailed comment on AO3, telling me what you liked about my story, what moved you, what made you laugh, what your favourite part was, and asking any questions you happen to have about it.
Huge, amazing, omg things you can do to make an author love you forever:
Draw art based on my story.
Ask to borrow one of my OCs for a story of your own.
Ask to translate one of my stories into your own language.
Above him, Tenten comes with a shudder and a low, breathy moan. Her fingers dig into the flesh just below his collarbones, and she continues to grind against him, nails biting into pale skin hard enough to crescent-shaped welts, sharp and red and angry, stinging in their wake.
But Neji knows that she isn’t done — and neither is he, not yet — and finds he doesn’t care.
So, I posted a fic today, and as I was setting up the AO3 post, I found myself writing in the end notes an impassioned - almost desperate, ngl - plea for comments. For interaction.
And yeah, for validation too. Because you know what? Writing is hard - despite commonly held misconceptions, it takes a shit-ton of effort to take some blank, empty void of a page and fill it with something that lives and breathes and touches the minds and hearts of others.Â
And don’t you dare wave that “you should be writing for yourself” bullshit in my face. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been able to do that, and honestly I’m glad managed to recover as much as I have and write as much as I do. Having an audience is an integral part of the writing process.
Let me repeat that.
HAVING AN AUDIENCE IS AN INTEGRAL PART OF THE WRITING PROCESS.
We fanfic authors don’t ask for much. As someone who is a published author, who has been published in a Real Physical Book™ and was paid hundreds of dollars in Honest-to-God cold-hard cash for less work than I put into my fanfic, let me tell you, a few comments will not pay my tuition or buy my groceries or put clothes on my back. Compared to the hours of labor that went into earning the money I was paid with, comments take substantially less time to create.
And yet, to us, they are priceless. Authors will create entire worlds for the sake of making a single person smile. YOU CAN BE THAT PERSON. WE WILL WRITE FOR YOU HAPPILY.
You just have to let us know you care.
And you’d better do it soon. I’ve heard too many authors all too willing to pull their tumblrs and erase or abandon their fics on AO3 because they have grown weary of screaming into the void. That fanfic you love? Gone. That chapter you’re waiting for? Never gonna happen. How many of you have bookmark lists with fics already missing? I bet you won’t even remember which one it is.
You can keep that from happening. Just write “Omg thank you for updating, I really liked _________!” and fill in the blank. Someone worked hard to put that smile on your face. You can make them smile in return.
“Authors will create entire worlds for the sake of making a single person smile.”
You know that person who leaves a comment on every chapter of your WIP? That person is a hero. Â Â
@fruitysmellz said:Â lolololol that ending though :p
—
To be completely honest, the ending was actually one of the very parts of the fic that I finished, and quite literally wrote itself. Not that I’m complaining, though: it’s pretty great.Â
Disaster is almost certainly a guarantee when you've been given the task of seducing your own boyfriend as a way to distract him from potentially murdering his almost-future-brother-in-law. Almost.
For @nairil-daeris​ — I'm sorry it took me so long to get around to writing this fic, and even though it isn't what you originally wanted, I still hope you enjoy it all the same.
AO3 | FFN
Heads up, kiddos: shameless PWP lies ahead.
It all began when Naruto got it into that thick skull of his head that he was going to propose to Hinata.
Naturally, for all parties involved, the entire thing was a disaster waiting to happen. And, oh, were there many — parties, that is. Not disasters. Then again, whether or not something was a disaster probably depended on who you were asking. Particularly when the conversation involved Naruto's plan on how to propose to Hinata. And if the conversation also happened to involve Tenten and the role she played in the whole thing, well.
You would end up with some very mixed results.
—
Tenten had been inside the Hyuuga estate countless times.
So had Lee.
And even Guy-sensei, too.
This was hardly surprising, considering that the last member rounding out their old genin team was, well, Neji, and therefore a Hyuuga. Besides, going to a teammate's house after training, or stopping by on the way home after a mission wasn't a strange thing to do by any means, even for those who were a part of Konoha's most emotionally-constipated family, and Tenten was well within her rights to be there.
She'd just never been to the Hyuuga estate with an ulterior motive before. Well, an ulterior motive that didn't involve delicious food, anyway, because whatever the Hyuuga cooks put into their food made it absolutely amazing. Or sex either, for that matter, but at least Tenten knew she'd never need an ulterior motive for that (for which she was extremely grateful: just getting Neji to kiss her when they first started dating was a feat that required much conniving and planning on her part, and a pain in the ass to execute, even if it had been so worth it in the end).
On this particular night, however, Tenten wasn't there for food — and the worst part was that Neji seemed to know.
Currently, he was watching her silently over the rim of his cup of tea, pale eyes narrowed and… well, that was it, actually. But because this was Neji, that was all he really needed to do to make her hair stand on end under the scrutiny of his stare; the palpable tension between them certainly wasn't helping matters, either.
And that gave Tenten an idea. She liked the idea so much, in fact, that she set her own teacup down on the table with a definitive chink and leaned toward Neji with a conspiratorial grin.
He raised an eyebrow at her, but did not set down his cup. "What is it?"
Tenten shrugged and pushed herself away from the table. "I was just thinking," she began slowly.
"About what?" Neji finally set down his cup, folded his arms across his chest, watching with thinly-veiled interest as Tenten circled the table until she was at his side.
She shrugged, and casually straddled his lap. "Just stuff," she said, resting her arms on his shoulders.
Neji's hands settled on her hips. "Meaning…?"
Tenten shrugged again. "Well, for one thing, the only reason I'm here tonight is because I'm supposed to distract you." She pressed her mouth against the side of his neck, suckled on the point below his ear she knew he liked, waiting until she heard inhale sharply before whispering in his ear, "Am I doing a good job?"
"Mm, that depends," came the reply. His hands began to creep up her shirt, trailing lightly along the edge of her bra. "Who sent you, and what are you distracting me from?"
"Naruto." Tenten pulled at the sleeves of his robe, exposing one pale shoulder. "He's hoping your cousin will become the future Mrs. Future Hokage tonight, and needed me to make sure you wouldn't try to kill him in the attempt."
"I see." Pushing up her bra, Neji dragged his thumbs over her nipples; she gasped at the sensation, and he smirked. "Is that why you changed out of the sports bra you were wearing earlier, during training? To distract me from killing my future brother-in-law?"
Tenten smiled at him conspiratorially. "Maybe," she replied, threading her fingers through his dark curtain of hair. "You don't seem too surprised."
"I was there when Naruto asked Hiashi-sama for permission to propose to Hinata-sama," Neji told her. He let his hands fall away from her breasts, allowed them to settle on her hips. "But now I am curious to see exactly how it is you intend to distract me."
Her grin widened, and Tenten tilted her head toward him. "I thought I'd start with something like this," she murmured, and pressed her lips against his softly.
It was nice, she thought, to be able to kiss him so languidly — they hadn't had much time, lately, for much more than quick moments of hurried intimacy stolen between missions and the demands of the shinobi world in the wake of the last Great War (to say nothing of the time it had taken for Neji to fully recover from his wounds before being allowed to once again be registered for active duty) and Tenten relished in the simple sensation of Neji's lips against her own, content to remain like this, if only for a little while.
Patience had never been a virtue of Neji's, however — at least where physical pleasure was concerned. It did not take long for his kisses to become more aggressive, his tongue pressing insistently against the seam of her mouth and his grip on her hips to tighten, and when one hand trailed down to cup her bottom firmly, Tenten pulled away with a soft laugh.
"There's no need to be so impatient," she chided him gently, removing her hands from his hair.
He frowned at her, despite the lust darkening his gaze. "I thought you were here to distract me."
"I am — now let me seduce you in peace already."
At her words, Neji's eyes grew noticeably darker. He was still frowning, though, but he did lean back in his chair without a complaint when Tenten pushed lightly at his chest in silent indication. When she reached down for the hem of her shirt and pulled the garment over head in one fluid movement, she did not miss the way his eyes roved over the expanse of skin now bared to him, how his expression became one of mild curiosity and thinly-veiled excitement, his tongue running along his lower lip as her arms reached upwards to untie the ribbons that held up her hair, allowing the thick locks to settle around her shoulders with a quiet sigh.
For some reason, the sight of Neji's tongue entranced her, even after he'd drawn it back into his mouth. She found herself studying his mouth, captivated by its shape and softness, brushing a thumb along the curve of his lower lip without a second thought.
His breath hitched, and Neji continued to watch her in silent curiosity.
Emboldened, Tenten dragged her fingers along his pale skin, marveling in the aristocratic arch of his cheekbones, the regal cut of his jaw. She trailed further down, along the strong column of his neck (he swallowed thickly, and she watched the apple of his throat bob in fascination), traced along the edge of his collar bones, stopping only when she reached his shoulders: one bared, thanks to her earlier actions, and the other still covered by the jade-green cotton of his robe.
"I don't know if I've ever told you, but you are a very attractive man." She pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat and smiled up at him. "I like to think our future children will be beautiful."
Immediately, Neji stiffened and looked down at her sharply. "You're pregnant?"
Tenten laughed. Straightening, she brushed her lips lightly against his before looking him in the eye. "No, I'm not," she assured him. "I'll wait until we're married first — you Hyuuga are all so traditional, after all."
"We're hardly being traditional at the moment, you know," he pointed out. Gripping her thighs, he tugged her as close as was physically possible, fingers pressing into her with force enough to bruise even through the material of her pants. "But thank you for your consideration."
She grinned. "You're welcome. I'm going to get back to seducing you, now."
"By all means, go ahead."
Deciding she'd had enough of the slow, lazy kisses for the time being, Tenten did not hesitate in drawing Neji's lower lip between her teeth when she dipped her chin toward him a second time. It tore a low, guttural groan from his throat, and she did it again, gentler than before. She pushed the robe off his shoulders, the fabric sliding smoothly against his skin, and Neji released his hold on her long enough to slip his arms through the sleeves, allowing the material to pool around his waist. Almost lazily, she dragged her nails along the newly-exposed skin of his back. He hissed at the sensation, and suddenly, she was overwhelmed by heat.
Neji's tongue was hot in her mouth, and he was clutching Tenten to his chest, crushing her against him. Warm fingers dragged along the skin of her back, catching on the clasp of her bra and unfastening it deftly. She pushed against him, and he allowed her out of his embrace only briefly — tossing the bra to the floor, she leaned toward him closer yet, tangling her fingers in his dark hair, and when she kissed him again, the steady flame of desire they'd been kindling burst into a raging inferno.
Without warning, Neji stood, pale hands gripping her thighs tightly, and Tenten wrapped her legs around his hips, even as their kisses grew more fevered, a clash of tongue and lips and teeth. Somehow, they made it to the futon in the corner of the room, where Tenten pushed him down to lay flat on his back.
She parted his robe, and grinned at him wickedly, trailing her fingers along his abdomen before pressing her hand against him, her mouth following a moment after.
"How am I doing?" Tenten asked against him, hooking her fingers into the hem of his boxers, dragging the garment down his hips, his legs, with aching slowness, before pulling them off completely and tossing them to the side.
Neji watched her with half-lidded eyes as she shifted onto her side and met his gaze as she removed the rest of her own clothing, straddled him again. It took everything he had to stop himself from pulling her onto him. "Naruto should ask you to distract me more often."
"Duly noted," she replied with a grin, and lowered herself onto him with a low and drawn-out sigh.
Groaning, Neji settled his hands on Tenten's hips, fingers digging painfully into her skin. She answered with a moan in kind, leaning up to press her mouth to his, gasping sharply when he snapped his hips into her with quick, accurate thrusts.
It did not take long to lose themselves in one another, for Tenten to come around him with a shuddering moan moments after Neji spilled himself in her. She rolled off him languidly, and raised a curious eyebrow when he slanted a considering glance at her as their breaths grew steadier, their pulses slowed.
"What is it?" she asked, sighing happily when Neji leaned over her and brushed his lips against hers.
"Just thinking," he answered, smirking even as he press kisses along her jaw. "How many more distractions are you willing to provide tonight?"
A laugh bubbled from her throat, and Tenten pulled him closer — she could already feel him stiffening against her thigh. "You're insatiable."
Neji's answer was to press his fingers between her thighs, and she arched against him with a moan. "What a disaster," he muttered, and silenced whatever retort she might have had with a heady kiss.
—
In the end, Naruto's plan to propose turned out to not be a complete disaster: Hinata had said yes, and Tenten had the honor to hear the news straight from the mouth of the newly-engaged bride-to-be herself.
Of course, Tenten hadn't planned on still being naked in Neji's bed when it happened (thank goodness they were only caught kissing) and she certainly hadn't counted on the entirety of the Hyuuga clan traipsing into the room mere seconds after Hinata had discovered their less-than-decent state but, well. As far as disasters went, Tenten experienced much, much worse — such as when she found herself giving birth without an epidural, nine months later, screaming about how she was going to kill Naruto (and also Neji) for getting her into that particular situation in the first place.
But that, dear reader, is a story for another day.
—
The End
—
I… actually hadn’t intended on this being such a humorous piece at all. It just sort of, well, wrote itself, I guess. Which in one way was rather refreshing, because I haven’t written anything in this particular style in ages, and I’d nearly forgotten how much I loved it, but was also kind of hard at the same time because I forgot how easy it was to sound like an apathetic little shit when writing this way. Heh.
The quip about “being traditional” is a shout-out of sorts to it may not be a lot (but i feel like i’m making the most by @yahboobeh​ because that specific line is just really hilarious to me for some reason and I love it.
Also, this is probably one of the most explicit things I’ve written in quite a while, even if I’m still not able to write Tab-A-in-Slot-B action anymore. Whoops. :x I’m still kind of proud of myself, though, especially since I more-or-less gave up on plot in favor of smut, and you can really definitely tell that I wrote this inconsistently over the course of several days. Yes.
Thanks for reading! Feedback, like always, is appreciated!
One of my huge problems with a blanket condemnation of “people who write non-con” or “people who write underage sex,” is the assumption that there’s only one reason that a sexually explicit scene could possibly exist in a piece of fiction: to arouse the reader and uncomplicatedly celebrate whatever sexual activity is taking place. At best, when this mentality does acknowledge the existence of other types of sex scenes, it assumes that the categories “sex scenes that celebrate and arouse” and “sex scenes that problematize and dissect” are mutually exclusive, and that the line between them is clear, easy to draw, and easy to agree upon.Â
Say for a moment, that we as a group are going to prohibit the writing and reading of sexually explicit scenes involving rape or underage sexuality. Does the prohibition extend to writing and reading fiction that depicts rape and underage sexuality in order to condemn them or detail trauma around them? If that’s allowed, does it apply to writing and reading fiction that deals with those themes in order to explore the complexities of individual responses to them? What if those responses are themselves morally dubious? If that’s allowed, does the prohibition kick in if any of the characters experiences arousal? If the reader does? Or does it just kick in when the reader perceives that a character is aroused at a point when, according to the reader, they shouldn’t be? Or when the reader senses, through a hundred intangible narrative cues, that the writer’s attitude toward the events in the story aren’t the same as the reader’s?
If you feel that the location of this line is obvious, are you sure that your boundary is the objectively correct one? Because historically, there is a VERY STRONG PRECEDENT that once censorship/taboos around these issues gain a toehold, people will disagree about the location of that line; that they will in fact challenge and attempt to ban any book which includes the issues in question, regardless of whether it does so to glorify them, condemn them, or something more complicated. If you would take issue with any of the following calls to ban or remove books from libraries, perhaps the line is not so clear-cut as you believed (also, more commentary under the cut):
lol ur acting as if that’s why the people we complain about write those scenes tho. it’s blatantly obvious when it’s for a good cause, the ones we condemn write that shit bc they think it’s “kinky” and “edgy.”
The entire point of this post is that both I and history strongly disagree that it’s “blatantly obvious” when controversial content is artistically justified. Historically that has been anything but obvious to society at large, which I why I cited all those examples of books that most reasonable people would consider artistically and politically unimpeachable, but which plenty of folks still want to ban. The power of censorship isn’t a cat you can put back in its bag once it’s clawed your particular enemy.Â
Also, the metric for critique really should not be authorial intent. Who cares what the author thought when they were writing something, or whether they wrote the thing “for a good cause”? Fandom discourse is far too fixated on scrutinizing the traumas and guessing at the intentions of writers in an effort to determine whether they’re allowed to write a given thing. Forget about the author. The metric should be whether the created object, in its context and totality, reinforces oppression. And it should be a metric for two-way CRITIQUE, not blanket censorship, for heaven’s sake!
From my previous examples: for my money, Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man is misogynist in both its treatment of rape and its essentializing of its female characters. This may or may not have been an intentional or socially-minded decision on Ellison’s part, but regardless, I would argue that it does not serve the narrative as a whole, and that that aspect of the book perpetrates gender-based oppression. Other aspects of the book combat race-based oppression, and do so extremely eloquently and effectively. It’s also just a corker of an absorbing read. None of these things negates the others. We should neither ban the book, nor remain silent about its misogyny because of its seminal anti-racism work and its powerhouse prose. We should critique the ways in which it fails while also acknowledging the many ways in which it succeeds. We should read it and have a conversation about it!Â
Or, another example: I think Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead is rapey, politically poisonous, and poorly written. It perpetrates gender-based oppression and class-based oppression, and generally inhibits empathy. But its philosophy apparently resonates with a huge group of people. I think we as a society need to take a compassionate and non-shaming look at why that might be—and as a tool in that discussion, we need the book. Banning it would only drive Rand sympathizers underground, inhibit discussion since nobody is supposed to be reading it, make The Fountainhead more desirable for its forbidden status, and frankly accord it more social importance than it deserves.Â
From a 2006 US decision by Justice Sonia Sotomayor, now a Supreme Court justice:
For purposes of evaluating artistic or cultural merit, the term “pornography” is notoriously elusive. In that context, determining whether material deserves the label of pornography is a subjective, standardless process, heavily influenced by the individual, social,and cultural experience of the person making the determination.Â
The same holds true for any sub-set of written pornography that might be deemed beyond the pale. The discussion itself can be useful, but not if it deteriorates into two polarized sides screaming threats at each other over the contents of a blanket checklist of fictional no-nos.Â
The metric should be whether the created object, in its context and totality, reinforces oppression. And it should be a metric for two-way CRITIQUE, not blanket censorship.
tfw ur trying to write plot but ur brain only provides you with out-of-sequence snippets built on vague ideas and an endless number of potential outcomes that develop and branch out unnaturally over an unspecified timespan
Notes
This section was pretty much entirely based on my reaction (and, by extension, my grandmother’s reaction to it) to seeing my youngest sister in the hospital a few hours after she was born: I’m the eldest of my siblings, but my middle sister (there’s only three of us) is almost exactly a year younger than me, so for obvious reasons I have no memories of her being born. I was three-and-a-half, though, when my youngest sister was born, and apparently rather precocious for my age, but at least I was fortunate enough to have levelheaded adults in my life who could rationalize stuff so that an almost-preschooler could understand what they were doing was wrong — I like to think that Tenten would have a similar approach to parenting.
Once again, this is a snippet from the WIP of Tenten being pregnant when Neji died, etc. :D (I’m really enjoying writing this, if you couldn’t tell — I’ve never written young children in any great capacity before, let alone from their point of view, so even though the kid in question here is really just a glorified OC, drawing on my experiences as a toddler teacher and such is proving to be really good material, and a great exercise for writing more things like this in the future.)
—
“He’s ugly.”
An inelegant splutter bursts from Mother’s lips in response to Nana’s words, even as Aunt Hinata and Uncle Naruto burst into laughter. “That isn’t a very nice thing to say!” she says sternly. “Apologize to your cousin!”
“But he is,” Nana insists. She looks at the baby Aunt Hinata is holding delicately in her arms, makes a face. “Isn’t he?”
Uncle Naruto bends down to hoist Nana into his arms with an over-exaggerated puff of air. “Well, I guess you’re right — Boruto is kind of ugly right now, isn’t he?”
Mother frowns at them, and folds her arms over her chest. “Don’t encourage her like that.”
“I’m not encouraging anything,” Uncle Naruto tells her, before looking back to Nana. “But, you know, all babies are ugly when they’re born.”
Nana blinks at him in wide-eyed disbelief. “Was I ugly?”
“Yes,” comes Mother’s immediate answer, “you were — “
Aunt Hinata gasps. “Tenten-san!”
“ — but only for a little while.” Mother offers Nana a smile, taking a step closer to them. “Uncle Naruto is right, though: all babies are ugly when they’re born, but it’s not their fault. Right?” She waits expectantly until Nana nods slowly before continuing, “So what do you think you should tell your cousin?”
Nana looks to the hospital bed, where Aunt Hinata holds Boruto in her arms, before she wraps her arms around Uncle Naruto’s neck, burying her face against the warm skin in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she mutters. “You’re not ugly, I’m sorry.”
Uncle Naruto gapes at Mother. “How did you do that?”
Mother shrugs, takes Nana from his arms and holds her close. “I’m her mother,” she says simply. “It’s my job to teach her how to be a good person.”
@fruitysmellz said:Â First of all, how dare you. Second of all, HOW DARE YOU????!!!! -sniffles-
—
I’ve been writing far too many happy and funny things as of late — I have a reputation of writing sad and bittersweet and heart-wrenching things to protect.
Notes
I... literally have nothing to say to justify this — I was on my way home after going on an emergency trip to the Indian grocer’s for mango pulp when my brain went, “Okay, but wouldn’t Tenten absolutely love having an Assassin’s Hidden Blade?” Which, yes, she would, but it didn’t stop there.
“What if Neji was an Assassin, too?” And then I got home, and tried getting some coursework done, but after a while the idea wouldn’t disappear from my my mind, and I wrote this quickly during my last study break. Which is why it sucks (literally spent most of my time writing this trying to figure out the fucking dress), but, hey. At least I did it.
Not sure if I’m going to continue this, but. Yeah. Let me know what you think! (I have another spies/assassins AU WIP, too, but that one is still in the works. Heh.)
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
“You are aware the advances made in feats of engineering in the modern era have rendered such archaic types of weapons obsolete and unnecessary, I assume.”
There is a note of amusement in Neji’s voice that Tenten does not miss, beneath his normally dry and clinical tone, and she looks back at her partner over her shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Obviously,” she chirps, fastening the leather straps of her Hidden Blade and rolling her wrist against it experimentally. “But there’s a very good reason the Brotherhood’s used these for as long as they have, you know — there’s something to be said for tradition.”
Unconvinced, Neji frowns at her as he adjusts the sleeves of his tailored black suit, cufflinks glinting almost dangerously in the low light of their shared hotel room. “There is also a reason they’ve undergone so many modifications over the centuries; I doubt you would still like the Hidden Blades quite as much if you were required to mutilate your hand in order to wield one.”
Tenten rolls her eyes. “I know, I know,” she huffs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t like or use them, though.”
“Except you can’t,” Neji counters. He steps toward her, and holds out one hand expectantly. “Not on this mission.”
“Spoil sport,” she mutters, loosening the leather straps. The Hidden Blade slips off a moment later, and begrudgingly, she deposits the device into her partner’s waiting hand. “There. Happy?”
Without warning, Neji’s fingers close around her own, and he pulls her close, until their bodies are pressed flush against each other and his free hand is trailing down her side. “I would be happier if you were better equipped for this mission,” he murmurs, cool lips brushing distractingly against the shell of her ear, and he squeezes her thigh once, quickly, for emphasis.
It takes everything Tenten has to keep herself from gasping at the flood of sensation the simple action sends coursing through her veins. Somehow, she manages to glare at him instead, closing her fingers around his wrist and pulling his hand up to settle on the flair of her hipbone. “And I’d be happier if I could actually move in this thing — do you know how much a ballgown restricts your movements? Particularly when it’s a mermaid-style dress?”
“No, but I was under the impression that some type of garment compatible with combat situations had been integrated into its design, as a precaution against the worst-case scenario.”
“That’s not the point!”
Raising one dark eyebrow in question, Neji takes a step back and rakes his pale gaze over his partner in slow and silent appraisal. The dress is both elegant in its simplicity and deceptive in its deadliness, he thinks, much like the Assassin wearing it: a gown that follows the sleek curves of Tenten’s body like a second skin before gently flaring out at a point just below the middle of her thighs. The smooth expanse of black fabric is broken only once, by the thick band of bright gold embroidery circling her waist matching the pattern that decorates the dress’s high collar — a clever little bit of design by the Konoha Brotherhood’s development team that serves to effectively hide the gown’s hidden inner seam, the detachment of which would allow the garment to transform from a cumbersome disguise into a catsuit with no limitations on flexibility or range of motion.
All in all, the gown did its job well, in terms of both practicality and function (even if it was true that she couldn’t hide any weapons on her person while wearing it), and Neji tells her just as much. “You look nice,” he adds, quietly.
Tenten purses her lips (she’s coated them with a soft, neutral shade of some type of shimmery gloss for this mission). “Don’t think I didn’t catch you staring at my ass, Hyuuga.”
Unabashed, Neji merely shrugs, slides a hand into his pocket as he tosses the confiscated Hidden Blade onto the bed with the other. “You look very nice.”
“Whatever.” Tenten turns away from him with a roll of her eyes, gives her appearance a last once-over in the floor length mirror on the other side of the room. When she faces him again, her expression is schooled into a mask of polite neutrality. “Ready?”
Closing his eyes, Neji takes a long, deep breath. Upon opening them, his own countenance is a mirror image of his partners. “Yes.”
[fic] any way you want it (that’s the way i need it)
one hundred sentences of dirty nejiten things, courtesy of the 100-prompts community on livejournal. part 1/5 — ideas for au settings and kinks/scenarios currently being accepted.
read on ao3 or ffn.
discoholicmusic
turnnoffyourmind
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