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something different.

an attempt in figuring out how to write a dom tobi / sub mada

i really don't know about this. 🤔 ah well whatever. scrap for me but you may read for fun.

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Madara narrowed his eyes.

There were flowers on his desk. There was also a box of dango, and they both made a rather odd sight because people just didn’t leave flowers and dango on his desk. However, they were there, and they stood out prominently.

“If you stare at them any longer, you’ll set them on fire,” Tobirama said. 

“What is this?” Madara asked, flinging an arm out at the rather offending items.

“What do you think?”

Madara glared at him. “That is not an answer.”

His dynamic was not a secret, but his demeanor kept people from acting upon the fact. A very good thing because Madara thought most doms were idiots. They had not a single clue how to navigate a conversation, much less a relationship. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would be approached, being a key member of Konoha and supposedly easy to take advantage of, never mind the fact that he alone could face Hashirama Senju. However, Madara did not expect to find such deplorable gifts this early in the morning or in his office.

“It is,” Tobirama said. The man was infuriatingly calm, and that was—

“You,” Madara said, and he had a hold of Tobirama’s kendogi before the man could blink. Tobirama didn’t resist, allowing himself to be dragged closer toward Madara. “You did this.”

Tobirama merely blinked, white lashes soft and slow against the top of his cheeks. “Yes.”

“Why?” Madara shook him just a little, and he swore to god that he thought Tobirama was the more sensible one of the two Senju brothers.

“Why does anyone leave flowers and sweets?” Tobirama retorted, and his hand came up. His fingers were cool against Madara’s hand as he pried himself out of Madara’s grip. His red eyes looked at Madara, keen. 

Madara studied Tobirama for a long moment. There was nothing in that face staring back at him impassively. The only hint was the slightest fluctuations to Tobirama’s chakra, normally smooth and steady as an undisturbed lake.

And it was easy to stop forward, push Tobirama into the desk. This time, a dark pink flush graced Tobirama’s cheeks.

“So…” Madara drawled. “You wish to court me, is that right?”

Tobirama swallowed, and Madara’s eyes tracked that bob of throat easily. “Yes.”

“Why, Tobirama? What makes you think you can be in charge of me?”

Because Madara wasn’t going to just let any dom court him. Tobirama Senju may have been a better choice than most, but he was also one that would induce the most headaches. A relationship between them was never just a relationship between them, not with their clans and duties to the village.

“I don’t,” Tobirama said, and a smile curved onto those lips. “Anyone who thinks they can be in charge of you is a fool, but—”

Madara found their position reversed as Tobirama flipped them easily, and this time it was Tobirama pushing him into the desk. It was a nice show of strength for a man so whipcord thin, enough that Madara didn’t fight the way Tobirama pressed him further down just narrowly missing the flowers and dango there.

“ —if you allow it, if you wish it…I could take charge as you please. I could keep you on edge, numb your senses to the world.”

“Is that so?” Madara asked, and he was surprised to find his own breath a little short. Tobirama’s face was close enough for him to see clearer into those red eyes, dark and filled with promises. Their lips were mere centimeters apart.

“My nature does not dictate me in the way I work, but when it comes to this, to you…it can only be as you wish and please.”

“Are you truly that sort of dom?” Madara asked. Words were words, and he trusted the man enough to build Konoha alongside Hashirama but not here. Never here where it was personal and close to his heart, where Madara needed to guard himself.

“Have I forced you to lie beneath me like this?”

“No.”

Tobirama smirked. “Why then do you lie before me so, enticing and enchanting, and I still have yet to kiss you?”

Madara swallowed. “You jest.”

“Ah,” Tobirama said. “You allowed.”

“So I have,” Madara replied, and he had not known when he had trusted Tobirama enough for that to happen. That he allowed Tobirama to maneuver him without complaint or fight.

“Your submission is earned, not forced.” Tobirama pulled back until he was no longer looming over Madara. “I have declared my intent, but you may wait to give me your answer. I only ask you not to…to tarry.”

And Tobirama’s chakra wavered, dipped a little, and Madara could see the pinkness to those cheeks had not faded but rather deepened. The man wasn’t quite as smooth or confident as he portrayed, and this time it was Madara’s lips curling into something dangerously wicked as he pushed himself up to sit upon the desk.

“I have my answer.”

“Al-already?” Tobirama asked, his voice strangled. “You, you do not need to be hasty. I would—”

“You may.”

Tobirama’s mouth snapped shut. He stared at Madara in disbelief. Then, “I—I may?”

“Where’s your bravado?” Madara asked, and he allowed his legs to part in invitation. “You may have one kiss.”

“Oh,” Tobirama said. “Oh!”

Madara tried not to laugh as Tobirama almost tripped to stand between Madara’s legs, and then he had no words as Tobirama gently tilted his chin up. Placed a soft sweet kiss onto his mouth. 

He shivered, feeling a tingle down his spine, and he closed his eyes allowing Tobirama to guide the kiss into something deeper. When they finally broke apart, Tobirama’s eyes were a bit hazy as if clouded over.

“Hm,” Madara hummed. Tobirama Senju would do.

Genma: what’s wrong with you

Kakashi: i have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else

Just because one of your chicken eggs hatched a fire breathing dragon people think you’re evil. But you’re still just a regular farmer trying to make a living while dealing with an overprotective dragon, heroes that want to kill you and fanatics who want to worship you as the new Demon Lord.

the “oh no he’s hot” situation

I know this is going to make me sound pretensions but I have to get it off my chest. I feel an unimaginable rage when someone posts a photo and is like "this picture looks like a renaissance painting lol" when the photo clearly has the lighting, colors and composition of a baroque or romantic painting. There are differences in these styles and those differences are important and labeling every "classical" looking painting as renaissance is annoying and upsetting to me. And anytime I come across one of those posts I have to put down my phone and go take a walk because they make me so mad

[“I want to give people some tips on what the cold cut-off is like.

First, you gotta stay cold. The whining will go on FOREVER. They will call you directly. They will email you. They will put EMERGENCY in the email subject, and you will find the EMERGENCY is Why Are You Doing This To Me, You Selfish Brat. They will leave messages. They will call you at work, because they are just so worried, are you okay? If you respond to any of this, even just to say “I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU,” all you have done is show them exactly how often and in what ways they have to harass you until you respond.

After the harassment, there will be niceness. Honeymoon. You will get gifts. Concern troll gifts. My dad, he wanted to buy me a coat. It’s so cold out there, I don’t know if you know that. I am worried about your health YOU STUPID BITCH here I don’t want you to get sick now I AM GOING TO PUT YOU IN A MENTAL WARD. These will be patronizing gifts meant to guilt you about how much they love you and how you are unable to care for yourself properly. Also, there will be checks. With the checks will be little check-ins. Did you cash the check yet? I see you didn’t cash the check yet. Did you get it? Could you just tell me if you got it? I know you don’t want to talk right now and that’s fine, you need space, but just let me know if you got the check? Or when you’re going to cash it? That’s all. Can you not even do that? Really? Are you that immature? Do you need help getting to the bank? Because I can drive you. It’s just a check, for chrissakes, you can’t even take free money?

After that phase passes, there will be a period of radio silence. It’s not over. It’s just a break. When it revs up again, it’ll be through third parties. My coworker saw you at the cafe. I hope you’re not drinking too much coffee. Here, your mother asked me to give you this trinket from your childhood. She seems really upset. I don’t know what happened between you, but I think she’s been through enough, don’t you?

If you can chop your way through that, there will be mostly silence. Except on birthdays, or Christmas. Then there will be passive-aggressive cards and gifts and FUCKING CHECKS.

Let’s shoot forward a few years. Let’s assume the cut-off has worked and they’ve stopped trying to drag you back. Here’s some shit you’ll have to put up with:

You Should Really Forgive and Forget

Strangers, friends, acquaintances, anybody who hears that you have an estranged family member will tell you to forgive and forget. They will tell you that family is wonderful and really more meaningful than whatever you’re going through. Also, bonus round, but WHEN YOU GET OLDER YOU’LL UNDERSTAND, double bonus round, BUT BY THEN THEY’LL BE DEAD AND YOU’LL REGRET IT. After dealing with this shit for years, I’ve found it’s best, for me, to not respond. Maybe give them an mmm, oh, that’s interesting, but it’s not worth it to explain my circumstances or refute their assumption of my personal feelings. If they cared about my circumstances, or my personal feelings, they would have asked.

What people are telling you when they have this round-up toy spiel is what they are capable of. They are not capable of cutting off their family. They are not capable of imagining a life without forgiveness. They are not capable, perhaps, of imagining your life. They are not capable of separating the word “family” from “blood relations.” They are not capable of conceiving of happiness without traditions. These are not bad things. It’s just them, the way they prefer to live. You live differently. The only thing is, you probably don’t go around accosting strangers and advising them to cut off their family, and if they don’t, they’ll grow old and regret all their years wasted placating and living in fear. So, stay that way. Don’t be that asshole. Just understand that other people don’t have the strength to live as you do, and you do not have the strength to live as they do, and that is all okay, as long as they shut up sometime goddamn soon.

You Are Capable of Leaving Me and I Am Terrified

You will get this from partners and from friends. They know you are capable of cutting off people you love very much, people you are supposed to be with forever. There is a line and it can be crossed, and after that, you are gone from their lives forever. They never seem to hear the, “You could always make amends,” part. Just the, “I am not speaking to you anymore,” part. Some people can’t handle that. A surprising amount of people can’t handle that. They can’t handle the fact that if they were to call you on your birthday you would not be pleasantly surprised and decide that it was really all so long ago anyway. They can’t handle the fact that if they blew into town you wouldn’t have an obligatory cup of coffee, or if they got married you wouldn’t call just to say congratulations. They can’t handle the fact that you wouldn’t friend them on Facebook, or ask other friends how they’re doing.

They can’t stand the fact that you could erase them and still manage to exist in the world, without them.

A friend of mine from college had cut off her family, too. She told me about an argument she had with an insecure, needy, hurtful boyfriend. He was pretty much entirely in the wrong, and when he had run out of arguments, he lashed out using her family. “I guess I just get scared,” he wheedled, “Because you cut off your family, I feel like you could cut me off, too.” She didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah,” she said. “I could. If that bothers you, we shouldn’t be dating.” She and I laughed about it later. As if it was supposed to hurt us, the idea that we could protect ourselves, that we could cut out the riffraff. I mean, she had cut off her ENTIRE family — a boyfriend was supposed to get her shaking now? Get a better ultimatum, man.

Flint tried to use this, too. So did an ex-girlfriend. During fights, they’d spit out something about how I can’t deal with family since I don’t have one. The truth was, I couldn’t deal with abuse if I wasn’t having it. If family meant what they were doing to me right then, then yes, I could not understand, would not understand, and would not participate. And that was fucking unacceptable to somebody who needed me to collude in their madness. They knew that if I made the choice to cut them off, it would be complete. We wouldn’t fight. They wouldn’t have any access to my feelings, my thoughts, my experiences, anything they could use to hurt me or know me.

When people say these things, try to cut me down for exercising my ability to define my boundaries, they are letting me know that they want to reserve the right to hurt me in specific ways. They are letting me know that if I stopped being a part of their life, they would lash out and refuse to let me go. They are telling me they expect this of me, they need this in place if they are to continue being my friend. They need to know that I will let them hurt me as a price for any love we shared. They are telling me that this is what they think love is.”]

Somebody help me D:

I'm new and I dunno how the hell pick an avatar Dx

traded glances (aka; let spock be a slutty badboy 😩)