#probably-drunk-madara

[senjuofthesea]

{   f o r   s c i e n c e   }

@probably-drunk-madara​​

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       Tobirama's frowny look gets directed at Madara instead of the menu once the Uchiha dares to speak up about the Senju. It's...an odd topic. Especially when it started with Madara claiming that he looks fine, following it with the defence that all Senju have gotten the better part of their genetic inheritance when it comes to their appearance.

      He almost looks down at himself in order to try and see what Madara sees. Surely enough, there are plenty of people fawning over Hashirama but his brothers and Tobirama get hardly a fraction of that attention. At least Tobirama doesn't notice any of that attention on him and he prefers it that way. He's sure that Madara is mocking him behind his words.

      But he plays along.

      "Have you seen my father? If you keep saying that, I will certainly mark that down as a confirmation of my theory that you are blinder than you say you are."

      No one in their right mind would find that man attractive unless they took a very hard hit to the head. And Tobirama stands firmly behind his words.

      The good thing or Madara is that this particular piece of information serves as a good enough distraction for Tobirama to ignore Madara's embarrassing words, especially since he's now stuck trying to think of someone from the Senju who would (under any circumstances) be considered to be 'average' or even 'bad-looking'.

      He really cannot think of anyone besides the elders (who had once been described as being attractive by their contemporaries) and his father. Which, unfortunately, makes Madara have the upper hand.

      "I can't rate my own family based on looks," Tobirama eventually says with a shake of his head. The whole conversation is ridiculous and he simply must change the topic.

      Which will be beneficial for both of them in the long-run.

      "Are you trying to clog your arteries, by the way? I knew the Uchiha have a sweet tooth but I never heard of anyone immune to diabetes."

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[probably-drunk-madara]

A C T   O N E

published on ao3 // ongoing

Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha embark on the strange, difficult, and heartbreaking journey of soulmates.

A roleplay by        @oh-my-hashirama​ (Hashirama) and        @probably-drunk-madara (Madara)

[senjuhashirama]

Nothing, not even the gaze of festival goers, stops a very drunk Madara Uchiha from approaching the Senju with a silly grin. Gentle live music plays in the background, a few tents over. Madara takes Hashirama's hands in his. "Dance with me, love of my life," he murmurs. (@probably-drunk-madara)

“Do you mean dance.. Or dance?” Hashirama asks, drunk himself. The lights coming from lanterns were melting into each other. 

“If you want to dance, we should go somewhere else, but if you want to dance, I guess we can, we just need to be invisible, if that’s possible,” Hashirama explains with the absolutely clear logic. 

@probably-drunk-madara 

[senjuofthesea]

Happy Valentine's Day, I'm not high at all, and I'm ready to spend all day inside... *checks notes*... sharing your food with you. 👍🏻

(@probably-drunk-madara)

I'll simply have to take your word for the "not high" part, even though you barely appeared and I already have my doubts about your sobriety.

But very well, I had promised food in exchange for alibi. Make yourself at home, don't touch anything you shouldn't, and don't break anything.

Oh, and happy Valentine's to you too, I suppose.

[senjuofthesea]

{   f o r   s c i e n c e   }

@probably-drunk-madara​

#58     [ prev ]  <<  >>  [ next ]

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      It would not be Madara had he not found something to comment on - Tobirama gives him the most deadpan stare he can muster after Madara practically tries to lecture him on the correct use of medicine. He's read the damn patient-information leaflets. He always does. The food is not completely necessary - just a precaution to prevent an upset stomach. There is no more damage to be done to the two of them after what just happened in the boys' bathroom.

    Once again, he is completely unaware of Madara's inner turmoil, only marginally noticing the moment Madara's gaze grows momentarily distant. The Uchiha is far too deep in his own mind and it is perhaps the best to wait for a little in order for Madara to pull himself together.

    It oftentimes helps. With Tobirama's interference, the process would be halted and Madara's temper fluffed up. They really don't need to start a scene in the middle of the street again.

    Thus it comes as a relief when Madara finally comes back to himself, beckoning Tobirama along once again.

    And he goes.

    Trudges by Madara's side with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. They remain silent - comfortably - just the two of them against the harsh wind of the autumn high, passing nameless faces they might not remember in seconds' time. Tobirama finds the moment awfully sombre but strangely liberating. Perhaps a bit nostalgic.

    "But don't I - by your words - always?" He eventually speaks up ina alow voice tinted with the barest hints of amusement. There is no real bite to it. Just concealed gentleness that comes with the nasty weather. Post-fight bliss, when the adrenaline is gone, really feels almost like a messed up afterglow. It makes him feel oddly mellow and at peace. The kind that would make him curl up in bed under a blanket and nap.

    Or maybe that is just the weather and the greying sky that looms above them.

    "It will rain soon," he remarks as they round the corner of the equally grey street. Perhaps Tobirama is having his own moment of clarity but it feels different. He, for once, doesn't have millions of thoughts going through his mind. Just enough to entertain him all the way to Denny's. Which is like half a block away, an oasis of yellow and red, greeting them with one too many bright yellow signs with a font atrocious enough to make all the graphic designers collectively throw up.

    Tobirama would call it scientifically displeasing.

    At least the warm lights inside look beckoning, promising a haven of warmth, grease, and sugar. Truly the peak of local culture. He wonders if they have been to this one yet, and if so, why have they not been kicked out yet?

    Involuntarily, Tobirama shudders at the scent that hits him. Heavy breakfast on a Sunday morning when he is too lazy to get out of bed and one too many memories of wet pavements and slurred curse words, of panting and breathing in each other's air.

     It would be stupid to fight in 'broad daylight'.

     "Ladies first," Tobirama gallantly gestures towards the door with one hand, fully ready to mock Madara as soon as they are seated. He had always thought that the Uchiha are supposed to be warm.

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[senjuofthesea]

{   f o r   s c i e n c e   }

@probably-drunk-madara

#52     [ prev ]  <<  >>  [ next ]

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     But, much to Madara's disdain, Tobirama doe not care one bit for the condition Madara is in. He had seen Madara in various states of disarray, with his face messed up, bloody, with twisted arms, and then beyond. Strangely enough, he thinks the wild battle-rage type of a look fits Madara more than any proper look ever could. And this is coming from him without any other intentions in mind. Just that. A simple appreciation of one's aesthetics. If it can even be called that.

    Yet, luckily, Tobirama's appreciation for seeing Madara all beat up does not show that much on his face. That would be awkward. Instead, he looks almost tentative. Thoughtful. Carefully he presses his fingers to Madara's nose, feeling along one of its sides.

    "It's not broken. Merely fractured, probably. There is nothing necessarily to fix there. Just better get some painkillers and ice for it. As for the discolouration, well, buy yourself some make-up strong enough to cover it if you mind so much."

    It really isn't anything too tragic and Tobirama isn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved, so he settles on being somewhere in the middle, using his other hand which he places on Madara's jaw to turn his face a bit to see his nose from a different angle just to make sure that there indeed is no bump or any visible damage besides the bruising and dried blood.

    Speaking of the blood, Tobirama moves aside to throw away the bloody tissues seeing as Madara no longer needs them - the nosebleed has long since ceased. All that remains are the dried bits. For that, Tobirama reaches into his messenger bag, digging around for a while before he finds what he's been looking for.

    "Here, you might need this," he then thrusts a small packet of wet tissues at Madara's chest, holding it there until Madara decides to take them. Which he should unless he wants to risk Tobirama wrestling him into that too.

    "You are lucky," Tobirama adds as an afterthought, Not that he would want to absolutely ruin Madara's visage per se, but at least he doesn't have to suffer the consequences and Madara is still the same old. Hawk nose or not. Tobirama prefers him this way and so does everyone else. Or at least he thinks so.

    "Stay here and clean yourself. I'll run in and get the painkillers. If they see you, they will call he cops on us and I am not getting banned from a pharmacy of all places."

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[senjuofthesea]

An Early Morning (or Late Night?) Letter

A messenger falcon arrives in the window of Tobirama’s home during the wee hours of the morning. It carries a small note, addressed messily to one Tobirama Senju. The letter, in scrawled, lackadaisical, drunken handwriting, reads:

Dear Bitch-Ass Senju,

I heard that you didn’t believe in global warming. So, I wanted to come straight to the source and confront the matter personally.

I don’t believe in global warming either.

I think it’s a conspiracy Hashirama made up in order to get you to use your water jutsu to make Konoha summers more cool. (But if global warming was real, by some magical circumstance, I would be the one who made it. Just so we’re clear.)

So, I think we’re onto something. Meet me at my office. Make sure you’re not followed. Burn this note.

Sincerely, Madara Fucking Uchiha

P.S. – fuck you haha

P.P.S. – But no, really, you have to come, we have to ponder the genius collectively.

There’s somehow bird poop on the inside.

-- @probably-drunk-madara

Tobirama squints at the letter, bringing the paper up to his face to make sure this isn’t some sort of a joke. It isn’t - the paper smells like proof enough and Tobirama has to fight all of his existing natural instincts not to throw up then and there.

He only notices the ‘gift’ later, burning the whole thing ritualistically on the black yang soil in his backyard. He’ll have to ask Hashirama for some plants to cover that thing up before he accidentally raises more undead yōkai again.

It’s probably way too early for Madara to be functional and present in his office just yet but Tobirama speed-runs his morning routine anyway. He cannot escape the feeling of thrill that curls up in his stomach.

Tobirama always knew global warming is a hoax and now that even Madara agrees with him--- oh, the feeling curls his toes as he pulls himself across space-time and all potential dimensions only to breathily end up in Madara’s office.

At record speed, no less.

[senjuofthesea]

Madara is high. He may not be awake for long because, well, it was indica. But he's high. And he has much to say of little long-term coherence. One thing of which is: "Damn, boy." (u fucking know who, beech, try me ho, loooool - also madara, probably, and not drunk)

//Not drunk, just high, lmao. [Tobirama voice] Get out of my DMs. 

@probably-drunk-madara 

Madara is...not exactly a common sight for Tobirama. Not this messed up, at least. But not even that makes him look up from his book. Maybe if he pretends that he didn’t hear Madara and that the Uchiha isn’t there, Madara will go away on his own. Or at least not speak again.

Because ‘damn, boy’ indeed. He isn’t too sure what Madara could even want. 

And Tobirama just wants a moment for himself.