Maybe it’s because I’m tipsy rn but janka ohmygod. They just compliment each other so bad. They hate each other. They want each other carnally. Jabber wants the intentional pain he knows only Zanka can give like. Others can hurt him but it’s not the same it’s not for the love of the hurt like Zanka’s. Zanka wants to prove himself to the only person who seems worth proving to, his enemy. Zanka knows he’s an average Joe, and wants to prove himself in that state to the world despite it. However, the only person who’s listening is Jabber.
They want what’s best for each other by also wanting what’s worse for each other. There is a fine line between love and hate and janka are jumping on it like it’s a slackline
@madatobiweek2022 DAY 6 - Secret Relationship/Undercover/Rice Wine
“This is very important Tobirama, you can’t offend anyone at this gathering. If all goes well, this could help streamline the building and migration to the Village.” Hashirama ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the stands as he stared intensely at Tobirama. “Even Madara, Tobi. I know you don’t get along but I can't afford you making him angry. Just, don’t argue. We can deal with any details behind closed doors afterwards, but just agree with him while we’re there. You’re only there as Heir anyway, Madara is a Clan Head, so I expect you to treat him like one.”
Tobirama’s mouth tightened, listening to his brother list off his expectations. He felt like a child again, standing in front of Butsuma and being told all the ways he didn’t measure up. He knew, alright? He wasn’t a complete social incompetent, no matter what Hashirama, and in turn the Elders, believed.
He struggled to pick up social cues and couldn’t follow all of the ‘unwritten rules’ that peppered social interactions. What was the point in small talk? If they had a reason to meet and talk, why not just get straight to the point? Then there was the flattering and compliments that everyone exchanged but no one ever meant, so why even bother.
He hated making eye contact, finding it uncomfortable and awkward, something encouraged by the clan and ongoing conflict with the Uchiha. Right up until it became ‘disrespectful’ and ‘insulting’, then suddenly everyone wanted him to make eye contact all the time.
(Even when he did make eye contact, it was still wrong. He was either ‘glaring’ or looking ‘too long’. When was he meant to stop?)
He would much prefer to leave this kind of thing to his brother, he had a much better understanding of people than he did, and people liked him more as well.
“I understand Anija, I’ll try my best, I swear.”
His brother didn’t look any more reassured with his words, stress lines still prominent around his eyes.
He sighed, “just, just don’t embarrass us too much Tobi, not tonight,” before turning and walking away.
Hurt coiled in his stomach but he pushed it away. Hashirama only wanted the best for them, that’s all, Tobirama was just an obstacle to that. All he had to do was get through tonight, then they could leave the rest of the social parts to his brother.
Tobirama had been here for less than 2 hours and it was already going wrong. Oh the first bit went well, Hashirama was with him and people paid more attention to his brother than himself. All he had to do was stand slightly behind him and look appropriately interested and respectful. Easy. But then Hashirama had gone to talk with the Ino-Shika-Cho trio and Tobirama had abruptly found himself alone with no buffer against the other attendees.
After several disasters of conversation, that Tobirama had been forcibly dragged into despite his best attempts, he fled to an unoccupied corner of the room. To his delight, the unoccupied space was not a corner, but rather the entry to an obscure side room that was, blessedly, empty.
The Gods were smiling on him as he slipped inside, revealing a low table, seats and, most importantly, a case of books that looked completely unfamiliar. Tobirama felt himself smile. Finding new reading material was always a delight. Selecting a book, he settled himself down at the table. Part of him wished he’d grabbed himself a cup of tea, but he refused to brave the main room in order to find one.
Cracking open the cover, Tobirama lost himself in the book, only to jerk back as a shadow fell across him, obscuring the open page.
Blinking, Tobirama raised his head and found himself looking up at one of the very people he’d been trying to avoid in the first place; Uchiha Madara.
Madara raised a brow at him, looking pointedly at the books piled at his side, “So this is where you’ve been hiding. I had wondered when I didn’t see you following Hashirama around like a shadow.”
He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Tobirama didn’t know what to say.
‘Yes i’m hiding, please don’t tell Hashirama’
‘I’m staying out the way because i know i’m not welcome’
‘I’ve already hit my tolerance for socialising and if i go back out there I will insult someone, this time on purpose’
Better to say nothing at all.
Stepping forward, the Uchiha hummed before seating himself opposite him, clinking a bottle as he set it on the table.
“Drink with me.”
Tobirama frowned. He didn’t like drinking, could never grow a taste for wine like others in the clan did, even Hashirama. He preferred to avoid it all together and was going to refuse now as well. Except. He’d promised Anija, didn’t he?
‘ just agree with him while we’re there ’ Just agree.
So he nodded to the older man, taking the filled cup and raising it to his mouth. His nose wrinkled at the taste, throat closing up in disgust before he forced himself to swallow. The taste lingered on his tongue, and Tobirama wished desperately for a glass of water or tea to get rid of it.
“Hhm, have another.”
His head whipped around, staring at the Uchiha.
“Ah, Uchiha-Sama, I don’t normally drink. I’ll have to refu-”
Madara rapped his knuckles on the table, pushing the refilled cup back over to him.
“Drink.”
‘ just agree with him while we’re there ’
So Tobirama drank. And drank. And drank.
Everytime time he drained his cup, Madara was there to refill it. At first he would put the cup on the table, only for the Uchiha to slide it back, full once more. So he started to keep hold of it, cradling it in his hands. But Madara simply moved around the table, leaning over him to pour more wine into it.
Tobirama lost count of how much wine they drank, but he was certain Madara served him more than he did himself. He remembered the fifth cup, when he started keeping hold of it and then… nothing.
He didn’t know how long they’d been there when he came to again. His head felt fuzzy and the room seemed to swim in front of his eyes.
“Tobirama” Someone was saying his name.
“Tobirama” A hand fell on his shoulder and he jolted, listing to the side and falling into something hard.
“Oof-Wow, you weren’t lying. You really don’t drink, do you” The voice was close, breath tickling his ear. It sounded familiar…
“‘Dara?” Tobirama slurred his name, tongue thick and unwieldy in his mouth. There was a huff of breath, his hair ruffling with the force of it as an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him upright.
“Oh, so now you start to slur, but not when you’re speaking in depth about efficient filing systems and taxation laws, of course.”
The words flowed over him, not really registering as he felt the chest under his ear rumble with the words, the sound nice and soothing. He turned his face, rubbing his cheek against the other’s chest as he hummed.
“Right, let’s get you out of here, come on Tobirama, up you get.”
The arm around his waist tightened, pulling him up as he swayed on his feet. He stumbled forward, knocking into the table and nearly falling over a book laying on the floor.
“Oh for god sake…” Abruptly his whole body tilted, feet swept out from beneath him as he was hauled up, face full of black hair. He felt the other move, relaxing in his arms as he rested his head against his shoulder. His eyes felt heavy, with every blink a struggle to open again. He shut his eyes again.
Waking up was a nightmare that Tobirama wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. His eyes were dry and filled with grit, while his mouth tasted like something died in it. The headache pounding in his skull was neither welcome nor wanted. All in all, he very much wanted to roll back over and go back to sleep.
Unfortunately, his dream shattered as his door was flung open, the loud-too-bright chakra telling him of Hashirama’s arrival.
“TOBI, TOBI WHAT DID YOU DO!”
The shout made his head throb, a large groan leaving his chest. Gods kill him.
“Anija, please” his voice was muffled as he begged from under the pillow, “not so loud.”
“Tobi, this is important! What did you say to Madara last night?” The question came out at a much more reasonable volume, so Tobirama deemed to lever himself out of bed to look at his brother.
“Madara? I don’t-I don’t remember talking to him Anija. He gave me a drink and then, I don't know, I think I fell asleep at some point?” The more he thought about it, the more anxious he got. He honestly didn’t remember anything after the first few cups of wine. Did he do something wrong? Had he offended the older Uchiha?
Hashirama burst out crying, flinging himself at the younger Senju and sobbing messily into his shoulder.
“You did so well, Tobira! He agreed with nearly everything and got the other clans to offer more help than we ever hoped for! He said you gave him convincing arguments for everything!”
Tobirama stared at the wall, letting his brother cling to him. He remembered none of that. Was that while he was drunk? Did he rant at Madara about village plans while he was drunk? And Madara let him?
He felt his brother pull back, wiping his face on his sleeve. He beamed at him, full of excitement.
“Madara wanted to talk to you today as well! Said he wanted to discuss ranking systems and how pay grades should affect their assignments!” Hashirama looked ecstatic as he spoke, fully on board with his brother and best friend getting along. Even if it was with bonding over village legislation.
Tobirama sighed, massaging his temples, “When did he want to see me, Anija?” If he had enough time, he could try and make himself at least somewhat presentable.
“Oh he’s already here Tobira. He’s waiting downstairs now!”
Tobirama stared at his brother’s earnest face, brain stalling as he tried to work through what he’d just heard.
Reaching over, Tobirama yanked his pillow back over, pressing it to his face to muffle his scream.
Just kill him now.
Standing in the kitchen, Madara heard the shouting from the bedroom he’d dumped the younger Senju in the night before. He grinned at the sound. No doubt Tobirama would be feeling the effects of the night before. He almost felt sorry.
Then again, the younger man was quite enthusiastic about explaining things in his inebriated state. Madara had learnt far more than he’d expected about the village planning. And he remembered far more than he expected, considering he’d been more than a bit distracted by Tobirama trying to sit in his lap while he talked.
He had really looked quite captivating while he had ranted, cheeks flushed with alcohol. Now he just needed to get Tobirama back in his lap, this time sober and fully conscious.
I guess the fact that I can still be disappointed in someone speaks to the idea that I am still hopeful enough to have expectations of people? Like, if I was truly jaded I wouldn't be able to put someone on a pedestal that they could come crashing down from.
And half of it is, "he cheated, at least emotionally if not also physically, and that makes him gross" but isn't a bigger half (an oxymoron, I know) that he didn't cheat with ME? I could accept a relationship that predates me by several years but for him to start something new with someone else is just a knife stab with salt and lime.
He was the first guy friend I ever had, and as someone whose only romantic prospects is a "friends to lovers" trope, I thought he might be my first other things too. But he didn't pick me, and he didn't stay with her, so what does that make him? Human? Or male, which is a subclass to me.
am i the only one who thinks "masculinity" and "femininity" is stupid. Like, what defines each? is masculine "strong/bold" and feminine "weak/caring" and if not, and they can be interchangable, the fuck is the purpose then? like actually. "Oh im masculine, but im caring, soft and gentle, i like pink too. and i also like dresses" Can they identify as masculine still? is feminine just , girly? im certain its another bs gender role thing.
Idk random rant. i might be wrong on all counts. but seriously, i dont understand how u can defend "masculine" or "Feminine" without just reinforcing gender roles all over again. ??
curious on others thoughts!
any negativity and hate youll be instantly blocked and ur reply deleted.
Germans still feel bad about the Holocaust. I feel bad about the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. I guess people from the countries who significantly contributed to the spread of antisemitism in the world can understand what's wrong with the world today better than anybody.
But hair does promote must. Didn’t say it automatically makes you musty but because it does promote it. Men and women both would rather keep it groomed. Lol You want to be a realist but can’t accept societies realities about hairy ass women. Lol
hairy ass women ARE the reality. if you clean yourself your hair won’t stink. just like your ass doesn’t stink when you wipe/wash it thoroughly. if you equate hair to dirt and stink i’m inclined to believe that you just don’t know how to fuckimg shower
