#motherofsharingan

[the-naughty-atom]

@motherofsharingan sent in : “What would it take for you to let me ride you?” Mickey asked as she placed light kisses along Bowen’s jawline. "N...nothing.." Bowen was blushing, gasping, as she kissed along his jawline. "All you gotta do... is kiss me... and I'll... want you.. so.. bad..."

[kagemaneking]

• ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴍɪɴɪꜱᴄɪɴɢ ᴅᴜᴏ •

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Shikamaru stopped walkng the moment she did, turning just enough to face her fully. He didn’t look annoyed. He didn’t even look surprised.

Just… resigned. Softly. Deeply. The kind of resignation that comes from caring too much.

Her ‘No’ came out small but defiant.

He let out a slow, tired exhale through his nose—the kind he only uses when hestrying not to push her too hard.

“Mickey…” His voice dropped. Not scolding. Not disappointed. Just gentle in that stubborn, immovable way only he could manage.

“You say you’re fine every time something’s wrong.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing—not critically, but knowingly.

“And every time, I can see right through it.”

- @motherofsharingan

[thetoaddaddy]

@motherofsharingan

Maybe it was a stupid thing to ask. Honestly he isn’t very good at these things. But this odd friendship he struck up requires effort and he was determined to try.

So he sat across from Mikoto. Tea poured. The room, dark. Silence heavy between them as he stared at the steam rising from the mug.

“How are you holding up?” He asks softly.

He can’t imagine the answer will be anything positive. But what else does he ask in the wake of something like this?

[eternalserpentlair]

(Short RP Starter for @motherofsharingan )

Orochimaru had always loved chess.

He had also grown rather fond of his companion and wanted to spend time with her in a way that differed from their usual conversations. Fortunately, the opportunity had presented itself.

So he invited her to his modest home on the outskirts of the village.

When she arrived, he quietly led her into the living room. In the center stood a small table, a chessboard already prepared, every piece resting patiently in its proper place.

-Play a game with me.

The invitation came without hesitation, the corners of his lips lifting into a subtle smile.

He needed this.

An intellectual challenge.

[butterflysuture]

Starter for @motherofsharingan

Choutsuki didn't know if he loved or hated these kinds of dreams. Ones where he didn't know if it was prophecy or visions or perhaps something made uniquely to torture and torment him because of what he had done in the in-between states of life and death.

He saw a woman with long, black hair standing on a bridge, her long, black hair flowing in the breeze. It was a nice day. He could almost feel the wind against his own skin, the light amount of moisture in the air.

There was something odd about the otherwise peaceful picture, however. She was standing on the railing of the bridge, barefoot, instead of on the bridge. Her sandals were resting on the bridge and a jacket was neatly folded beside them.

His blood ran ice cold as he realized what that meant. The woman seemed to notice that he was here as she turned to face him and smiled. His eyes widened at the sight.

Her eyes were gone, blood trickling down her face.

He could swear he heard a voice.

You want to save them all, don't you?

She stepped forward, her foot dangling off the edge, suspended in midair.

Start with her.

She pitched forward, going off the edge of the railing and towards the water below at an angle that would ensure her death.

He wasn't sure where he got the sudden energy, or adrenaline, or what even happened, but suddenly he had her held against him, and they broke the water's surface, plunging into the water. His eyes opened and he looked at her, red streaking upwards and marking their descent into darker and darker water.

This is what you wanted, wasn't it?

He couldn't hold his breath any longer and had to inhale-

He woke up gasping for air and coughing, clutching his head. He knew he had to go check on her and so got dressed, making his way to her address before knocking on her door.

[holy-havoc]

”Hiws your boy doing, Hidan? How are you, doing?”

“My boy?”

A momentary look of confusion. Did she mean Deidara? Surely she didn’t mean—

“Oh! You mean the baby! Great! He’s great! Happy. Healthy. Flourishing.

This parenting stuff is way too easy.”

[chiariuchiha]

It’s more about how you use it.

[historias-multorum]

"They're-

"WHAT?!"

@motherofsharingan