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There's a long history of commodifying domesticity in the name of women's liberation — a fact that's equal parts grim, subversive and empowering. In 1886, "The Woman Suffrage Cookbook" was compiled by a group of women in Massachusetts to be sold at the Boston Festival and Bazaar. As the New England Historical Society wrote, "the cookbook raised money for the Woman Suffrage Association. It included recipes from famous suffragists, Boston Brahmins, a governor's wife and prominent women doctors, ministers and journalists."
. . .
"The Civil Rights movement, not explicitly a women's issue but nonetheless important to intersectionally marginalized Black and brown women, was funded by numerous bake sales, perhaps most notably Georgia Gilmore's sweet potato pies," said food historian and baker KC Hysmith. "After second-wave feminism and renewed efforts to extend the deadline for the ratification for the Equal Rights Amendment, women organized bake sales to mobilize voters and spread awareness about an issue that had been languishing in Congress for decades."
. . .
"Suffragists used food and baking to convince the voting population — i.e. men — that if granted the vote, women would maintain their 'womanly duties' of the home and hearth," Hysmith said. "These intentional optics were employed time and again to maintain the gendered connection between women and domesticity creating a kind of culinary alibi that allowed women to use the food labor they were already performing at home or in other women's kitchens but for bigger purposes beyond that night's dessert. Women can't be rebelling if they're busy baking, right?"
Now, women's rebellion isn't cloaked behind buttercream frosting and pie crust. Instead, those tools are used to communicate their politics. It's a practice that, in our current climate, has no signs of slowing down. When I spoke with Hysmith, she had just finished speaking with Lindsay Meyer Harley of Still We Rise, an aid group that fundraises for organizations, including the Southern Poverty Law Center, the World Central Kitchen and the National Abortion Network.
More at the link.
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Sooooo, I was given this amazing gift from the lovely, talented and sweet Natalie @heatherstyles for @klarolineseason
It is AMAZING and I am IN LOVE with it. Caroline as the Queen of Witches, like wow this is SO my jam. The edit is STUNNINGLY GORGEOUS and the drabble is AWESOME (you need to write more often, luv, or a sequel cause I am greedy like that). So, everyone has to go and take a look and a read because it is FABULOUS. Thank you, Natalie 💖
#thank you#so much#natalie#heatherstyles#i love my gift so much#who is a lucky gal#me that's who#mwah#klaroline season#kc frosted festival
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Hello.
Your gift giver here. I just wanted to let you know that I took one of your prompts and well, it has a life of its own.
hope you like long fics.
also- I made a graphic for it to. I know that wasn't apart of your request but....I couldn't help myself.
I also have a playlist but that is to help me write, but if you want it, I would be more than happy to share the Spotify link after the reveal.
hi! i love long stories so that’s not a problem at all and i’m glad to see one of my prompt inspired you. thank you for the extra graphic and i would love to listen to the playlist too! it’s a little late but if you still wants to know my opinions about the rest of the characters and side ships, i will post it bellow.
1) heavy angst is okay to me as long as it makes sense for the story and characters, no matter how heavy.
2) i like historical aus just as much as modern aus. i don’t know which prompt you decided to pick but i’m sure i will be happy with it.
3) i don’t particularly like stefan/katherine due to the canon relationship having happened while he was under compulsion but it’s not a deal breaker either.
4) same as with heavy angst, as long as it makes sense, i don’t mind it at all. you’re the one writing it so feel free to pick any endings you feel do the more justice to your story.
5) you do not have to omit anything. if rebekah/marcel makes sense in your story then it makes sense and you should include them.
again, this is coming late so feel free to ignore all this. i’m sure i will enjoy the story you created.
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Winter at the Reserve
A/N: Surprise @autisticarachnid, I’m your tumblr secret santa! I hope you like it! @hphmsecretsanta Also a brief shout out to @kc-and-co for mentions of an idea belonging to her amazing Christmas story!
December 1989
Tending to the animals that called the Hogwarts creature reserve home was often considered difficult for a number of reasons. For one the vastness of the area meant multiple volunteers were often needed to assist Professor Kettleburn in caring for them. Another was some of the more dangerous creature’s generally volatile temperaments. Last though not least, seasonal adjustments to their needs were to be made.
Speaking of which, winter time was a challenge on its own. Shorter days and longer nights, so time management was paramount to avoid working in the dark. Changes (usually additions) to their diet to get them through the cold. Being located in the Highlands, the cold brought something else with it.
Snow.
For as much fun as it could be to build snowmen, have snowball fights or even make snow angels, it was awfully inconvenient when the only way of travelling through the creature reserve was walking.
Nonetheless, Salem Jordan trudged carefully through the sheet of white that crunched underfoot lest they slip. The rucksack she carried laden with so much that their boots sank even deeper into the inches of snow. Largely it was food that had been prepped for those that called the forest home, some emergency supplies (really needed in the icy conditions) and a flask of coffee for themselves.
There were few others with quite the dedication to the creatures of the reserve, several other previous volunteers having opted out. So as far Salem knew, they were the only one willing or able to brave the freezing cold. Kettleburn himself having already headed off for Edinburgh, trusting his older students to care for the creatures.
Thankfully, they had what was arguably the easiest part of the reserve to see to in winter time, the forest. Many of the creatures calling it home were hibernating and best left undisturbed, including the fairies and the Hippogriff. The ground would also have little if any snow thanks to thick foliage.
They were thankful when the snow and ice gave way to the forest floor. The trail through the trees being littered only by leaves fallen from the previous autumn and the occasional touch of frost.
A soft rustling in the leaf litter alerted them to the approach of the first creature. Soon seeing the leaf litter part in a flurry of shades of brown, yet no visible creature could be seen. Though it left an open path, there was no further movement after exiting one of the piles to indicate any further advances.
Salem knew exactly what they were dealing with, a demiguise. Though often painfully shy creatures, the few present on the reserve were at least semi-used to humans coming through. This particular one knew the routine though still seemed far more comfortable being invisible than revealed.
“Hey buddy... you want a Christmas present?” Salem spoke out softly, taking the bag off their shoulders. Adopting a crouched position to make themselves look less threatening, gentle tone would hopefully help the creature realise Salem wasn’t a threat, reducing the risk of scaring it off. They began to rummage through the rucksack to find what they were looking for. Hidden underneath a container full of grubs for the family of gnomes the reserve called home.
The treats for the demiguise was significantly more plant based. Inside a clear, plastic box was caramelised onions and bamboo shoots. Demiguise were known for being herbivores with a notorious sweet tooth, such things made for a welcome festive treat for them.
They shook the box vigorously, its contents rattling around inside as if to ring the dinner bell. Another serious of rustlings in the leaf litter alerted them to the presence of other members of the demiguise troop. One particularly bold one Salem caught peeking at from behind a tree several feet off the ground, inspecting them curiously with big, blue eyes.
Salem chuckled at the ape-like creature’s curious head tilt, mimicking it as their own eyes turned blue. It shrank away slightly, though did not opt to turn invisble, rather it seemed interested in the metamorphmagus abilities they possessed.
Having had their fun, they removed the lid, shaking the box of food in a much more gentle manner to sprinkle it around the general area. The gathered members of the troop waiting patiently until it was all scattered.
Salem continued on, content to leave the demiguise to interact with the feed, smiling to themselves at the job being done. The occasional hoots and hollers from the creatures making her snicker as they communicated with one another. Salem being able to surmise from the sounds that at least one was particularly offended about a piece of food getting snatched away from them.
Onto the next species it was, from what they were expecting, that would be the gnomes. Further up the path coming to a small clearing off to the side that was littered with holes, some under trees. Unlike the demiguise, gnomes were entirely obligate carnivores, unable to get little if any sustenance from plant matter.
Thankfully, while gnome bites could be particularly nasty, and the creature’s generally foul attitude didn’t help matters their main diet consisted primarily of insects. That’s what the grubs were for, taking out the box, swinging it so it spread the grubs out across the clearing.
Salem waited for one of the gnomes to stick its head out the ground, black and beady eyes scanning the insects curiously as its bright red nose twitched furiously. Much like the demiguise, they were best left undisturbed to begin their feeding. The gnomes cackling with glee at the sight of so much food readily available to them.
The last beast to see to would be the only Welsh Green in the forest, though much more elusive than most of the creatures in the summer months, in Winter he was nearly impossible to miss. The cold weather would slow them down, in all likelihood, he was still sleeping in his nest.
Though that was much further up the trail, thus took to distracting themselves with watching any snowflakes that made it past the branches fall, occasionally jostling their arms as they walked along.
Though of all things, what Salem couldn’t have anticipated was someone else on that portion of the reserve. The figure was easy to spot dressed in a thick black parka, trying to investigate one of the forest’s many oak trees, which Salem’s brow furrowed at.
“Bowtruckles... are hibernating this time of year.” They stated, the fact being obvious to anyone who had even the vaguest knowledge of the species.
“I knew that!” The figure stated in a familiarly defensive tone, whipping around to reveal none other than Merula Snyde, “I was just checking if they were still like that...” Salem snorted in amusement at the obvious attempt at saving face.
“Sure Merula.” Salem rolled their eyes good-naturedly, Merula sticking her tongue out childishly, “If you want to help me though, I have a dragon to look after.”
That got Merula’s brow to raise curiously, “A fine challenge for the strongest witch in Hogwarts, I’m in.” Salem threw their head back in a laugh, Merula looking comically annoyed at the response but at least didn’t protest.
They walked together in a content, warm silence, a stark contrast to the chilly air around them. They stayed like that for a while until they finally had to go off road. Salem sometimes needing to take Merula by the hand to guide her through the rougher terrain.
Just before cresting a particularly difficult hill, Salem stuck her hand out, an urge to get Merula to slow down. Looking over it to see the sheltered area the dragon called its nest. It was curled up and if they strained their hearing enough, the revving of its snores could be heard.
“So, how do we approach this thing without it either burning us to death or ripping us to pieces?” Merula said bluntly, despite her lack of skill in Care of Magical Creatures, even she knew it was generally unwise to approach a sleeping dragon.
“Like this.” Salem responded, bringing out something that sure to be a treat for the dragon. A whole, raw chicken, there was a Dragonology manual that talked about the use of frozen chicken to soothe aching gums. While this particular individual had no such dental issues, it was sure to enjoy it as a treat.
Without much further delay, Salem tossed the chicken, it bounced once, twice and then a third time before rolling to a stop at the dragon’s feet. The dragon opened one eye sleepily, not seeming to comprehend what was in front of it. That was before it lashed out with surprising speed, beginning to shake the food much like a dog with a toy.
“That is brilliant.” Merula nodded, sounding genuinely impressed, holding out a hand for Salem to take, “May I?”
Salem glanced down at it briefly, before it clicked for her, “Did you come here just to help me out?”
Merula paused, turning away with a light dusting of pink adorning her cheeks, “Maybe...”
Salem laughed as they took the outstretched hand before responding warmly, “Thank you for all your help today... how about we share a coffee on the walk back to the castle.”
“A walk together through a wintry forest, sharing a hot drink on the way back to an enchanted castle. That might just be the soppiest idea I’ve ever heard, Jordan.”
“You’re the one who put it that way.” Salem responded to Merula’s light-hearted jab, getting the Slytherin to begin pulling them down the hill in response. Both uncaring as they laughed together to get back to the trail.
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Second Chance Christmas {{ December 22 }}
Holiday shopping, Christmas cookies, and a movie marathon... and maybe a touch of actual communication?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832405/chapters/68577144#workskin
Full chapter under the read more.
Joey wandered downstairs at seven in the morning. He was surprised to see Kaiba inspecting the to-do list on his fridge in between long swigs from his KC branded mug.
“You haven’t finished holiday shopping?!” Kaiba’s panic-whisper sounded like he was really concerned about whether Christmas was ruined. His eye contact was almost frenetic.
“I thought I’d leave the kids with Serenity while I do the shopping, she’s supposed to be working the Christmas day shift at the hospital, so she was going to have a couple nights off… I mean it’s not…” Joey looked at the ceiling, as if he could avoid conflict if he didn’t meet the burning blue flames in his ex’s eyes. He steeled himself with a deep inhale. “It’s not as much of a production when you’re not here.”
The KC mug hit the kitchen island with not-insubstantial force. The fruit dish shook with the vibration, bananas swinging from the hook, and Joey tore his eyes from the ceiling to see the drops of black coffee that had hit the granite.
“And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” Kaiba asked, or rather hissed, without a questioning lilt in his voice.
Joey cracked his knuckles involuntarily. Instead of letting his fingers ball into fists, he jerked open the refrigerator door and yanked out the carton of orange juice.
“You’re a smart man. I’m sure you can guess.” Joey didn’t look away from the task at hand. He militantly focused on pouring orange juice into a tall clean glass.
And there was that sinister “Kaiba” gravel, every bit as menacing as it had ever been as he hissed over the kitchen counter, “Enlighten me.” He sounded like Yugi’s troubled teen nemesis again.
Joey flipped around, gripping the orange juice to keep himself from saying too much that he would regret. “Things are more mellow, now. It isn’t about going overboard to prove a point.”
Kaiba blinked, clearly expecting a harsher phrasing. “Is it now?”
“Yeah. When I was a kid I didn’t have much for Christmas and I came out just fine…” Here it comes, Joey thought, trying not to show the hesitation in his voice as he finished, “They don’t have to be spoiled rotten.”
Joey smirked as he said it. Commenting on their different parenting styles was a low blow, but it had been just too much fun. Joey thought regret would drop into his stomach, but it never hit. Instead, his heart jumped a little, the thrill of getting a rise out of Kaiba as seductive as ever.
“Spoiled?!” Kaiba’s voice lowered in volume and tone. Joey didn’t even try to suppress his mocking grin. Instead, he chugged the rest of his orange juice, slammed down the glass and bolted from the kitchen.
“Get back here!” Kaiba said. Tonally, it was a shout, but volume-wise? Neither of them wanted the kids to wake up quite yet, even though there were probably only minutes left on the clock in that regard.
Joey slid on his socks as he ran down the hallway, drifting as he took a sharp turn. Kaiba sprang to life, suddenly in hot pursuit.
Kaiba was fast, with those long, toned legs and that Terminator-like determination. But he hadn’t spent the last three years wrangling toddlers and chasing after Alexis, who just loved wandering off at the most inopportune times. Plus, while Kaiba had memorized the floor plan at one time, Joey was recently and intimately familiar with it.
The tie breaker was the stairs—with a carved bannister that had seen better days, days before Atticus had been allowed poster paint and before Alexis had taken a tap class. Finally, Joey’s socks gambit came to bite him in the ass as the smoothness of the glossy wooden stairs and the lack of traction from the socks caused him to slip. And that wave of tripping Joey collided into a scampering Kaiba, and the two of them tumbled down the stairs.
The resulting clatter woke the kids up.
. . .
The mall was a zoo—minus the organization. Children were everywhere, and somehow all screaming at once. Everyone looked stressed, perhaps the employees most of all. And Joey realized that he didn’t really have a strategy.
Leaving the kids home with Kaiba was a luxury, and he had sort of forgotten how nice it was to have back up childcare that wasn’t molded around Serenity’s shifts as an RN. It was sort of strange too, because it was one of the few things that was completely new.
Before they separated, Kaiba never watched the kids alone—they had a full staff for that.
Would they all have a miserable time? Joey smirked to himself as he strolled past another festive display—a family of mannequins in matching flannel pajamas. Being outnumbered by the kids could be quite a problem, and although Alexis had lone wolf tendencies, when they combined forces the two were quite powerful.
Joey idly imagined what sort of hell they might put Kaiba through as he shopped for some small things to put in their stockings. He was knocked out of his reverie by eyes fell upon a yo-yo display at the toy store.
After picking up a few small trinkets—and decidedly no yo-yo’s, Joey approached the cash register.
He was not pleased to find an unfamiliar credit card in his wallet. When did Kaiba even have the time to slip that in? Joey ran his thumb over the raised letters of his own name. Did Kaiba just have these lying around? In any case, Joey steadfastly refused to use it, tucking the heavy black card back into the recesses of his worn leather wallet.
He contemplated, momentarily, throwing it in one of the trash bins that he passed by, overflowing with spent holiday Starbucks cups and overly long receipts. But if someone did get ahold of it, they might ring up some charges that could look like Joey was actually using the card. It would ruin the integrity of the refutation.
But the little rectangular siren was hard to keep from his mind. Every time he made a purchase, there it was, tempting him to draw from an unlimited account. Snap shut the golden handcuffs again, the card whispered. Make everything easier.
But Joey Wheeler was a determined man. Detractors might use the phrase stubborn, but it didn’t matter which one was more accurate. When he had a plan, he stuck to it. To the bitter end. So even though he was pushing the admittedly fragile budget to it’s limits at the music store and on Cyber Angel card packs, it remained sealed away.
Until he passed a very sad looking fundraiser.
Joey considered, as he lingered past the charity drive seeking toys for a group home for teens in the Bronx, that he might put the card to use. He realized he seemed a little off, staring down the charity workers, who were dressed as unconvincing elves, with the big collection boxes.
Joey had a timetable. He had a not unimpressive list still remaining. But that fucking card was burning a hole in his pocket. It was practically radiating heat.
But he caved. He lost the battle with the black card when he emptied the local game shop’s entire stock of new model-duel disks and donated them. Joey was trembling as he signed them over, what the name of the donor would be.
He settled on anonymous and determined that he would cut the card into fifty pieces the second he got home and scatter the shards through the trash. The damn thing was too tempting.
By the time Joey pulled into the driveway and slammed open the front door, he was ready to fight about what had happened.
But his family wasn’t immediately in view. The lights in the kitchen were on, and Joey could hear soft classical covers of Christmas music and he thought he could make out the sound of Alexis laughing.
The wind was knocked out of him when he turned the corner to see Kaiba’s black turtleneck splattered with flour.
The whole kitchen had taken a beating. Flour hadn’t just tarnished Kaiba’s polished look—it had dusted the cabinets and part of the fridge Kaiba must not have realized how easily dry ingredients spray from the stand mixer if dropped in first.
The kitchen counters certainly were not spared from the ingredient massacre. The entire kitchen island was covered in flour, some spilled food dye—which Joey could already sense would never come out of the granite—and a surprising amount of raw egg.
Upon further inspection, Kaiba was actually the one least impacted by the ingredient apocalypse. There was sugar and frosting all over Alexis’s face—how, Joey might never know—and Atticus had managed to paint some of his hair blue with blue frosting.
“Alright. Cookies are decorated and prepared for Mr. Claus, fulfilling your contractual obligations,” Kaiba said resolutely, as if he had not turned their living space into a warzone. “What is next on the festive itinerary?”
“First rule of Christmas: you must get munk’d!” Atticus announced.
Joey knocked on the boundary wall of the kitchen to announce his arrival. He expected Kaiba to look much more surprised than he did. Instead, Kaiba’s affectionate attention merely pivoted between Atticus and Joey. It was warm and familial, and it sent a pang of heat and guilt and maybe something else down Joey’s spine.
“Next is getting this cleaned up, I think,” Joey said, finding himself in uncharted territory. It felt weird to be the responsible one out of him and Kaiba. He still wasn’t used to being the buzzkill parent, and he didn’t like it.
Kaiba could have said something mean—made some comment about would spoil the fun, but instead he nodded politely. “Yes,” Kaiba surveyed the room. “I think that would be the next step.”
While the kids groaned at the thought of helping with the chores component of the activity, Joey went to inspect the output.
Apparently, Kaiba had lead the kids through the process of making gingerbread men. Four were set aside and logically decorated to be their family: a stretched out one with blue blobs for eyes and a little black gel icing frown, a slightly more squished one with yellow on top in some sort of approximation of Joey’s hair, and two smaller ones representing each kid.
They really did look like a family.
“You can’t eat those ones,” Kaiba instructed from over Joey’s shoulder. Joey startled at the interruption. He hadn’t realized his ex had gotten so close, and was looming over him properly.
“I figured they might be a little special.”
“Frankly, I don’t know that I’m comfortable with Santa eating them. I’m a bit worried he’d just bite my head off, and leave him as an example to the others.”
Joey laughed.
“I don’t think Santa’s supposed to leave death threats to the cookies, Kaiba. But uh…” Joey reached for another plate which had not been as lovingly decorated. He tore the little head of a random gingerbread man with this teeth, and noted the nice flavor. Butter and molasses and a hint of cloves. He placed the decapitated body of the gingerbread man back down on the display plate. “This guy’ll scare the rest of ‘em straight.”
. . .
After everyone had gotten cleaned up and changed into pajamas (and Joey had discretely moved the gifts into the master bedroom closet), the family reconvened in the living room.
“Oto-san, are you ready for the greatest movies ever made?” Atticus announced. He seemed confident that his father wasn’t ready—and he was right. “Are you ready to get… ‘munk’d?”
Kaiba poked at his reading glasses and adjusted his laptop screen. He had been working on some spreadsheets or something, but his interest was obviously piqued.
Joey smiled. He knew exactly what Kaiba was in for, and he was going to savor it.
“Munk’d?” Kaiba repeated back carefully, as if he was worried it was a swear or a slur.
“Yeah!” Atticus grabbed the remote and deftly navigated the SmartTV through a few different apps before finding exactly what he was looking for. “It’s a quadrilogy.”
Kaiba slowly tiled his laptop screen down. “That’s not a word.”
“I have an inventive spirit, Oto-san!” Atticus’s smile beamed forward as he continued to queue the feature film. Without looking away from the screen, Atticus added, “Just like you.”
The soft smile that graced Kaiba’s features stung at Joey immediately. And it vanished at the first pitchy note of the CGI Alvin and the Chipmunks warbling through Daniel Powter’s 2005 hit, “Bad Day.”
“See, they’re kids, but they’re also rock stars!” Atticus enthused. Before Kaiba could get out any other response, Atticus cracked up at the vintage CGI creatures jumping into a muffin basket.
“It’s okay if you don’t like this one, Oto-san,” Alexis offered, hopping up on the couch on the other side. “They get better when they introduce the Chipettes in the Squeakquel.”
Joey wished he had photographed the resulting look of horror on Kaiba’s face.
Joey leaned back in his own arm chair, nursing a fresh mug of hot cocoa. “Quadrilogy, Kaiba. That means there are four of them.”
After the first movie, the kids we already starting to wear down a little. Kaiba had sat through the entire thing, undulating between puzzled and disturbed at the dated animation, the fact that the chipmunks had managed to get into and out of a dishwasher unharmed, and that the moral of the movie appeared to be that brothers should be very careful about who adopts them.
“This entire thing could have been prevented if the Chipmunks had just retained counsel before signing the relevant contracts,” Kaiba said dismissively.
Joey couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s about family, Kaiba.”
Any further discussion was cut off by the raucous opening music for the Squeakquel and ninety-ish minutes later, Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked.
It was a true Christmas miracle that the kids passed out on the couch before the start of Alvin and the Chipmunks 4: The Road Chip.
Joey met Kaiba’s slightly tired eyes. Admittedly, the ending of Chipwrecked was somewhat jarring. Frankly, the entire thing was more of a fever dream mixed with memes from 2011 than a sensible film. “Alright, I’ll take Alexis, if you can take Atticus?”
Kaiba nodded solemnly, accepting the delegation.
Alexis was usually pretty easy to get to sleep, though sometimes she was anxious from the day’s events, or too busy planning the next day to focus on getting to bed. Joey was not at all surprised that Kaiba was taking longer to get Atticus down for the night. He peered through the cracked door to see Atticus’s room illuminated by the little nightlight—shaped like a music note.
In the dim light, it was clear that Kaiba was sitting on the edge of Atticus’s bed. Atticus was all tucked in, holding his Red Eyes Black Dragon plushie, and gazing up at his father.
“And every night when you go to sleep…” Seto prompted, sounding almost like a strict teacher.
“I am loved,” Atticus replied.
“And every morning when you wake up?” Seto started the second part of the call and response.
“I am loved,” Atticus answered, “Oto-san, you don’t have to say it every night when you’re around! I know you love me.”
“It is important to me that you never doubt it, and never forget it. Even when I’m not around.” Joey’s heart could have melted in that second.
Atticus laughed. “You’re so sappy, Oto-san. I don’t know why Uncle Honda calls you a frozen bastard!”
Joey could barely muffle his reaction.
Kaiba’s face whipped around to the cracked open door. “Jounouchi?” He whispered harshly. But it was to no real effect. Joey was already lost to laughter, and dashed through the hallway. By the time Joey dared to retrace his steps back to Atticus’s door frame, Kaiba had vanished.
. . .
It was not hard to guess where Kaiba had retreated to. Joey pushed open the door of the study and was met with the increasingly familiar sight of his ex-husband in his oxblood leather chair, swirling a glass of expensive, aged, imported whiskey in his long fingers and staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe.
“I saw you with Atticus,” Joey offered, wandering into the study. He looked more at the full shelves of books than at his ex. Most of the volumes were in Japanese, but a select few were in English. Warren Buffet’s autobiography was open on his lap, but Joey was fairly sure he wasn’t actually reading it.
“Yes,” Kaiba answered, flipping the page. No, Joey was sure he hadn’t actually read it, his eyes never really left the swirling amber.
“And he musta overheard a call with Honda. It wasn’t on purpose or anything.”
Kaiba nodded wordlessly.
“You really do miss them, huh?” Joey asked, trying not to sound as nostalgic as he felt.
Kaiba’s face remained stoic, but he took a sip of the whiskey instead of answering. Only that asshole could make something so mundane utterly captivating. Joey hated that he would wait for a response as long as he needed to. Joey’s eyes searched the hand clasping the glass, and noted with a brutal sinking feeling, that the ring was off again.
“Why are you here, Jounouchi?” Kaiba asked finally.
“It’s my house, now. I can go anywhere I want,” Joey announced. Kaiba ignored this answer, and turned his head down to the book on his lap. He flipped another page.
Joey considered whether he should just leave, skip out on the argument, avoid it all and properly give up. Let his ex-husband drink his gross fancy liquor and read his boring book and luxuriate in the solitude as only Seto Kaiba could.
But it had been three years. Three years of not demanding answers. Three years with no clarity. So Joey broke the silence.
“Why didn’t you fight for me? For our family? Even for a second?” Joey felt the heat in his own voice, burning the back of his throat. That was how it was, fighting with Kaiba. A never ending battle of fire and ice.
Kaiba was silent, and took a long sip of the Japanese whiskey. He closed the book, which was more respect than Joey had anticipated.
“That’s what broke my heart, really.” Tears threatened to fall out of Joeys eyes as he said it. “That I told you that it was over, and you couldn’t spare one shred of anger, or sadness, or anything.” Joey hated the pleading tone in his own voice. “It felt like you had already dumped me.”
Kaiba raised his glance from the book cover, the amber glass, and instead looked him dead in the eye. Joey wondered if those blue eyes had always been so lifeless and hollow. “So, you wanted me to argue with you?”
“I don’t know,” Joey answered, running a hand through his messy blond hair. He hadn’t planned the whole argument out. Frankly, he hadf didn’t expect any response.
“Our children didn’t need to watch that,” Kaiba said.
“Watch what? A conversation? An argument? You think it would have been worse for them to hear their parents argue or yell once than… going through a whole fucking divorce?” Joey’s volume crept up and he was done controlling it.
Kaiba didn’t answer. He looked into the glass again, but didn’t lift it.
“Or what? What couldn’t they see? You actually respect my time? Respect me?” Joey wasn’t used to having the rhetorical upper hand, and he wasn’t going to waste it, gesticulating wildly. “I got no respect my whole life, I wasn’t gonna let my kids see me treated like that too.”
For all the theatrics, Kaiba scarcely responded.
“Watch it happen again,” Kaiba almost whispered. There was a ghostly quality to the statement, as if Kaiba neither meant to say it nor for Joey to hear it. Kaiba cleared his throat and started again. He brought his eyes back up to meet Joey’s.
“I learned that lesson a long time ago,” Kaiba’s jaw was clenched so tightly the words almost didn’t escape. “I’m not trying to be loved by someone who doesn’t love me.” Kaiba’s fingers twitched, as if he wanted to fiddle with something. But his control and focus wouldn’t let him give in.
For Joey’s part, he stood and tried to absorb these complete non-sequiturs.
“I can’t, and I won’t, try to force or trick you or anyone else into caring about me. I have paid dearly for that miscalculation before. I will not make the same mistake again.”
For all of the “slow” comments he had been subjected to over the years, Joey caught up quickly enough to what Kaiba was referring to. And he wasn’t going to let him play that card, get out of all responsibility because he had emotional constipation.
“You realize there’s a difference between someone asking you to be a better partner and… and not loving you anymore. Asking you to adjust some things instead of… never wanting to see you again. Things aren’t just black and white!” Joey answered.
“Divorce papers are black and white, Jounouchi.” Kaiba finally downed the rest of the glass, the lilt of his voice the same as a “check mate.”
Joey hated to be the first to raise his voice but that door had already been opened. He wasn’t going to be able to get the toothpaste back in the tube.
“Have you met you?! You wouldn’t listen to anything less! And I tried!” Joey shouted, hands raised defensively.
“I wasn’t going to stay where I wasn’t wanted, and you made it very clear that you didn’t want to be with me.” Kaiba didn’t answer with the same volume, but the intensity was raised and the harshness of his voice was jarring. His eyes narrowed like a hawk eying prey. “I didn’t change, for the record. I did not degrade or fail or alter in any way. No, I stayed exactly the same. You simply decided you did not want that anymore.”
“You’re damn right, I was sick of being disrespected. I spent a lot of time not wanting to feel that way anymore. And you really wouldn’t take my feelings into consideration. Was I supposed to tolerate that forever?” Joey’s volume increased with every clipped sentence.
Kaiba’s voice became more languid—as if he was more comfortable responding to the anger. He sounded somewhat like he was pondering his answer as he said it. Drunk on whiskey and a philosophical sense. “Isn’t that what you promised you would do? What unconditional love is supposed to be? Unconditional: without conditions. And yet, after years, suddenly you have conditions—"
“Excuse me?” Joey interrupted.
“You promised. That your love for me, for our family, was unconditional. And then, years later, you have a set of demands. That is the very essence of a condition.” Kaiba finished the glass with his scholarly speech, placing it next to the decanter. He shoved the book onto the side table as well.
“There’s a difference between not loving someone and wanting to be treated like your damn husband.” Kaiba’s tone rubbed off on him somewhat, as if it was a scholarly discussion about the terms of their marriage. Like if he could just explain it clearly enough, he could talk his husband back into their marriage.
Kaiba kept his hands busy pouring another glass. “Well you were right. You’re doing better now, aren’t you? Enjoying your work, the kids are fine. You proved it—you don’t need me at all. And you don’t want me. In three days, I’ll be gone, and you can go back to your better way of life.”
“It’s not—I’m not better now! I’m fine, things are fine, just different and—” Joey stuttered, hands defensively raised. “And, and having you here has been... It hasn’t made anything worse. It’s like you changed for the better.”
“I don’t change, Jounouchi. I am who I am.” Kaiba said, the cruel air of finality sounding as much like a business decision as anything else.
Joey’s eyes widened and he gestured wildly. “Fuck, Kaiba… Then what’s this?! You’ve made it for three days actually being… just, present. For once. Three years too late. Why? Why now and not then?”
Kaiba shrugged and looked away.
Joey closed the distance, looming over his ex-husband, perched in the chair. “I know why,” Joey said, menace in his voice. “It’s because you only respond to threats. Consequences. And now you know the consequences, so you’re getting your act together.”
Kaiba met his eyes, but looked brutally tired. “I am trying to give you what you want for a few days, Jounouchi. Call it a Christmas present to the father of my children.”
“You’re saying this is an act?”
He titled his head all the way back, eyes glued to the ceiling and thumb and forefinger pinching his nose bridge, just above the wire of his glasses. “I don’t know what this is, Jounouchi. Just be happy, or whatever, and leave me in peace.”
Joey really thought about leaving. He wanted to. But he wasn’t quite done, not really, and he’d been avoiding this fight for years. Joey never used to back down from a fight, and neither did Kaiba. It brought them to blows for years, and the avoidance of conflict had been more sickening than any gut-punch Joey had ever taken.
“I’m not gonna.” Joey said, simply. Hands on his hips, standing his ground.
Kaiba leaned up again, head snapping to attention, hand already on the crystal decanter. “What?”
“Leave. ��I’m not gonna do it. You can try to make me. I’m not done, alright?! You’re obviously not done,” Joey pushed forward, grabbing Kaiba’s wrist and pulling his hand off of the decanter. “Make it easy. Say you’ll be better, Kaiba.”
“I won’t do that. I don’t change, Jounouchi, because I can’t change.” Kaiba did nothing with his wrist, except allow it to go limp in Joey’s grasp. It was as if he was that confident in the strength of his words that he didn’t so much as care to tense a muscle. “I will ask you once more, nicely. Get out of my office.”
“No.” Joey dropped his wrist, and Kaiba retracted it into his lap. “You can change. You did. You just didn’t notice.” It felt good, Joey thought, being honest for once with this man that he used to love.
“I have work.”
“You don’t. They can’t fire you.” Joey got up in his face, so close he could smell Kaiba’s shampoo. Other than the soft sandalwood scent, it felt a bit like when he was riling up a rival high school bully back in Domino. “Fight me! Make me leave! You want me to go so bad? Then make me!”
Kaiba smirked, knowingly. Then he leaned his head back against the chair. His bangs fully eclipsed his eyes. “I won’t. I’ll just sleep here.” There it was again. The checkmate tenor.
“Fine!” Joey plopped down in the seat next to him, the velvet of his matching seat just soft enough. “Then I’ll sleep here too.”
If Kaiba shifted his eyes to check, Joey couldn’t tell under the thick brown bangs. In any case, the stubborn ass didn’t get up. He didn’t storm off or leave. He just stayed there, like a determined rock under Joey’s constant observation.
After about half an hour, Joey heard the even breathing pick up into a light snore.
In the morning, Kaiba awoke alone in the guest room, with no memory of how he got there.
#Violetshipping#puppyshipping#seto kaiba#Kaiba Seto#Jounouchi Katsuya#Joey Wheeler#fanfic#my fanfic#yugioh#ahhhhhhhhhhhh#i hope you like it this chapter is a lot#i was vibing though
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National Cookie Day: Microsoft’s new icons are tastier than ever
This National Cookie Day, I took Microsoft’s new icon set and gave them a festive frosting. If you have an awesome bakery nearby like KC’s Cakery in Tampa (thanks, Jon Levesque for the recommendation) maybe you could have these made up for your next governance committee meeting o...
"National Cookie Day: Microsoft’s new icons are tastier than ever" by SharePoint Librarian originally published December 4th 2018 in SHAREPOINT LIBRARIAN
This National Cookie Day, I took Microsoft’s new icon set and gave them a festive frosting. If you have an awesome bakery nearby like KC’s Cakery in Tampa (thanks, Jon Levesque for the recommendation) maybe you could have these made up for your next governance committee meeting or a “launch party” announcing this change to…
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