#my brother is buried in some work project that is spilling into his vacation and has kept him upstairs the whole visit

[blackjackkent]

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[an-anticlimactic-bass-drop]

Tall Part 2/?

Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing.

Tech X Reader

Slow Burn/ Angst

Warnings: Mild 1.11 Spoilers, Deviates from canon

Word Count: 1.5K

Part 2/?

partly inspired by this gif 

(it won’t let me put it in but its the one of tech catching omega)

Omega nudges you awake from where you are napping in the pilot’s seat. The small girl’s blonde head peeks over the arm of the chair as she looks out the window. 

“Look!”

The sounds of explosions and blaster fire are erupting from the city center a few klicks away. You quickly lean forward and start firing up the takeoff controls for the Marauder. You are sure your boys are the ones behind the explosions and you smile gently as you imagine Wrecker’s gleeful expression as you see a cloud of smoke rise into the air in the distance.  They can’t be too far off if the nearing sounds of blaster fire are any indicators. Omega rushes to the landing ramp as Hunter’s voice crackles in through the comms. 

“Omega! Get ready to bring the senator aboard!�� Hunter sounds a little winded and Wrecker cackles in the background as another explosion rocks the tunnel they were in. You remember the new security system Tech put in place and shake the last cobwebs of your nap out of your mind as you recall the specifications that he had told you about before leaving. Your hands fly across the panels as you disarm the system and lower the landing ramp. You head to the ramp as Omega jumps up and down waving at the men as they trek towards the ship. 

“Ladies! Meet the newest passenger of the Havoc Marauder, Senator Avi Singh.” Hunter introduced you to the senator and you looked him up and down. The senator doesn’t look like he’s all that happy to be leaving his planet in the hands of the Imperials. Singh is wringing his hands and has a look of worry on his face. 

“I should not leave my people. They need me here!” The senator says quietly. Echo leans in with a hand on the senator’s shoulder. 

“If you stay here you will be hunted down and murdered. It is better to live to fight another day than to die unnecessarily.” The clone looks almost defeated as he tells the senator this. Singh’s shoulders slump forward as he takes one last look around his planet before boarding the ship, nodding in agreement at Echo’s words. 

The trip back to Cid’s bar was uneventful to say the least. The senator and his droid are quietly sitting in the cargo hold. You offered him a cup of caf earlier but he graciously declined. The men are scattered around the ship as hyperspace speeds by. Echo and Hunter are attempting to sleep in the bunks while Wrecker and Omega are playing Saabac on the box that functions as a makeshift table. You just poured yourself a piping hot cup of the precious brown liquid that keeps you going through bouts of insomnia caused by the nightmares and the general lifestyle of the Bad Batch. Wandering up towards the cockpit, you aren’t expecting to trip over Tech’s long legs that are stretched out into the aisle. 

“Kriff!” Tech curses as your cup spills slightly onto the top of his blacks. He slides out from the wall he was buried in and starts looking around for a towel to wipe the hot caf off of his shirt. 

“Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You frantically bend down to help him. You grab one of his grease rags from the toolbox you notice off to the side and dab at the stain on his shirt. 

“No worries. I will be fine.” Tech strips off his shirt and you swear you can feel the temperature of the air heat up several degrees as you realize just how close you are to the taller clone. “There. No harm done. Would you mind putting this in the laundry for me? I need to finish this last bit of wiring before heading back to check on the flightpath.” You flush as you tear your eyes away from the bare chest of the man in front of you. 

“Hm? Sorry! I’ll just get right on that.” You hurry away with the stained shirt and a blush on your face. You left your cup of caf on the floor near where Tech was working. He let out a small chuckle as he steals your drink. Not his fault if you left it in your hurry. 

The ship lands back at Cid’s bar without incident. The senator thanks you all graciously and departs into Cid’s office to discuss payment. Wrecker and Omega not so sneakily sneak off to get Mantell mix and Echo follows them at a distance to make sure they stay out of trouble. Tech goes to the bar to get a drink and you sit beside him to discuss the mission. You flush as you think about the previous night on the ship and you clench your jaw to avoid licking your lips at the thought of the bare chest of the taller clone next to you. You aren’t ashamed to say you dreamed of the expanse of skin and what it might taste like while you were in your bunk after that episode last night. 

“Am I boring you? I can stop if you would like.” Tech looks concerned as you zone back into reality and realize you have been watching him with a blank expression for a beat too long. You blink in surprise as you shake away the untamed thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You really can’t be anymore obvious in your crush can you? At this point you might as well have a giant sign that follows you around that says “This person has a crush on the tall nerdy one!” 

“No!” You exclaim a little too loudly and get some irritated looks from the other patrons of the bar. “Sorry I'm just distracted today. The mission has me a little rattled. I am not used to being that deep into enemy space.” You say in a quieter tone.

“We are also not used to it. I always knew we would make it to Raxus someday however I never thought about it being to save the seperatist leader. Echo was most displeased about the idea and protested greatly. I tried to convince him that it was just a job and we need to pay off our debt to Cid but he does not see it this way.” Tech seems saddened at his brother’s inability to see the mission without the politics. You can see Echo’s point of view and point out to Tech that Echo’s trauma probably makes it hard for him to trust the separatists seeing as they had kidnapped and tortured him for 2 years before he was rescued. 

“The Techno Union treated him like a computer! An algorithm! Barely even human! I really don’t blame Echo for not trusting the separatists. He has barely recovered from the trauma of being in that machine for so long. He is still really pale and frail and you haven’t finished working on his new limbs yet so he still has the prosthetics they forced on him. Speaking of which, if you need help working on those I am always available. He has every reason to be upset about this mission.” 

You are fully involved in the discussion and don’t hear Echo and the others enter the bar as they make their way over to you and Tech. Echo catches the tail end of the conversation and tries to announce their presence with a small cough that turned into a hacking one that left Omega looking concerned. Her big round eyes are full of unspoken worry as she gazes up at him. Echo glances down at the young girl and forces a smile, patting her head. 

“I am fine little one. Don’t worry about me.” He says reassuringly.

Hunter leaves Cid’s office with her and the Senator. He comes over to where the group has gathered and steals Tech’s abandoned drink. He chugs the rest of it and gestures for the group to follow as he heads back to the ship.  Tech stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off of the bar stool. He has a habit of making sure none of the Bad Batchers fall over, a habit he has picked up from their upbringing on Kamino where the other 3 clones were not the best balanced due to their enhanced abilities. Your face flushes again as you become uncomfortably aware of how close you two have gotten during the conversation. He leans away from your touch as if he also hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten. Tech turns to follow Hunter out the door and has to stoop a little to avoid hitting the door frame, Echo cracking a quiet joke about not having to worry about hitting the top of door frames since he lost a few inches. Only Omega and you caught the joke and you give a chuckle as Omega just looks confused. 

“The legs you see? Lost a few inches? Oh well.” Echo gave up on explaining the joke to the kid and followed Wrecker out the door towards the ship. 

Once back on the ship Hunter announces that they have been given a few days off courtesy of Cid since the mission went so smoothly. The other bad batchers glance at each other, not sure of what to do with their new time off.  You were pretty sure they have never had free time in their entire life.

“We could visit Cut and Suu? See how they are settling in!” Suggests Omega. 

“Too dangerous for them. We attract too much attention. The last thing they need is to be recognized as republic sympathizers.” reasons Tech. 

“I think we deserve a few days of downtime! We can take a well deserved vacation and rest up before the next mission.” you say as you pour a cup of caf from the pot Tech started when you arrived back at the ship. “We can get some repairs done on the ship and maybe even explore the city! I know Omega has been dying to go to the museums in the city center since we got here and I'm sure you boys would enjoy it too.” 

Hunter thinks for a moment and nods in agreement. 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Taglist: @haloangel391 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

[raendown]

For the @madatobiweek prompt the was only one bed. 

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 5104 Rated: T+ Summary: Hashirama runs in to an old friend unexpectedly and Tobirama - well. Tobirama would like to have a firm chat with life's manager. No way is it fair for any human being to look that delicious.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Woodn’t It Be Nice

‘Just an old friend from middle school’ Hashirama had called him. Tobirama didn’t doubt that part, his brother had a habit of befriending every person that crossed his path by sheer force of will, but he found himself slightly upset that Hashirama hadn’t seen fit to warn him even a little bit before introducing him to the human wet dream known as Uchiha Madara.

Madara had, at one point, big plans to follow along with the dreams his family had for him to become some big business exec. Evidently those dreams had been cast aside at some point when he realized the high stress lifestyle was not how he wanted to spend his years. Tobirama didn’t really see how anyone went from business school to taking up a career in lumberjacking but he was hardly about to complain. Living in the deep woods and hauling trees for a living had clearly done wonders for Madara’s figure. 

And Tobirama really wanted a piece of that.

It was truly unfair how good that man made tartan look considering how many times Tobirama had snuck in to his brother’s closet only to despair that such patterns still didn’t suit him. Also high up on his list of unfair things was the sheer mass of all that thick dark hair falling in wavy tangles and how utterly scrumptious he looked without, apparently, having yet discovered the socially accepted function of a hairbrush. Given time and a good keyboard Tobirama was sure he could have produced a thesis length paper on why he should be allowed to bury his hands in all that hair. Two on why he should be allowed to touch that chest.

Because wow the chest. With a rib cage the size and general shape of a barrel and a waist line built for standing his ground against at least a smaller sized tank, it was almost enough to distract Tobirama from the thick muscle outlines clearly visible under the flannel – almost, but not quite. If he looked any harder his eyes might actually fall out of his head but he couldn’t seem to stop or even convince his mouth to close. 

Using his mind to juxtapose the image of an ax over those stubby thick fingers, Tobirama swallowed hard and wondered how many people had tried to pick this man up with some sort of bad wood puns. And more importantly whether that would work for him too. He definitely had some wood sprouting up that he wouldn’t mind letting Madara take care of. 

“What do you think Tobi?”

“Glorious…”

“Right? I do have good ideas sometimes!”

“Huh?” He turned to find Hashirama beaming at him but his brother was already turning away without giving him a moment to clarify that he hadn’t actually been paying attention to the conversation. 

Clapping his old friend on both shoulders, Hashirama smiled so wide he nearly split his own face in half. “You’ll love staying at our house. And you’ll love sharing a room with Tobi!” 

“Wait, what!?” Maybe he shouldn’t have taken quite so much time to admire that chest. 

Hashirama laughed. “You didn’t think I’d make him sleep on the couch did you? Not when you have a perfectly good spare bed in your room!” 

“But that- that’s Itama’s bed. What if Itama comes home?” Growing up with four boys in the same house, each only a few years apart from the others, it still felt wasteful for all of them to sleep in separate rooms even now that they were older and Hashirama’s job at the hospital had paid for a much larger house. It didn’t matter that Tobirama had actually been getting a little lonely while their two younger brothers were off at university in another city. Extra space or not there was no way he would survive sleeping in the same room with Madara unless he was granted an hour or so of alone time first. And knowing his older brother’s enthusiasm for socializing that wasn’t likely to happen. 

“Itama called last night,” Hashirama reminded him with an absent smile. “He’s off this weekend with his roommate to some concert happening a city away from them. I would ask Madara to sleep in Kawarama’s room but he’s still not over that cold he’s been fighting all week. We wouldn’t want our guest to get sick!”

“Appreciated,” Madara grunted. 

Slightly panicked, Tobirama cast about in his mind for any other excuse he could think of. “What if I’ve caught it too? He'd still get sick.”

“Nonsense, Kawa hasn’t let anyone near him except the dog. Neither of us is sick.”

“I don’t know, Anija, I feel pretty warm.”

“Maybe because it’s like a hundred degrees out,” Hashirama laughed. “Come now, Tobi, if you keep saying stuff like that I’m going to think you don’t want Madara in your room!” 

One look at those massive flannel-clad arms and Tobirama quickly swallowed his next words. The man could probably crush his head without thought and as delicious as it was to imagine being caught between those biceps he was also quite fond of living. While his brother threw an arm around broad shoulders Tobirama forced his eyes to look elsewhere, contemplating the restless night ahead.

Thankfully for his sanity he was at least able to sit alone in the backseat on the drive back from the hotel Hashirama just happened to spot his old friend going in to. Madara sat up front and nodded or grunted along to the man’s endless chatter. The backseat was quiet, free of tempting muscles, and gave Tobirama all the room he needed to stretch his legs across the width of the car. He noted Madara stealing glances at him in the rearview mirror several times but it was hard to tell what expression might be hiding under that scruffy beard. The fact that it was apparently due to be shaved off at the first opportunity was probably one of the greatest tragedies this world had ever seen. 

As a history buff Tobirama felt particularly qualified to make that call. 

When Madara was finally encouraged to speak more than a word or two strung together he told them how he had come to be in town with no plans and nowhere to stay. Apparently his younger brother Izuna still lived in Konoha and he’d planned his vacation to make a surprise visit. Except he was the one surprised to discover the house locked, one of the neighbors calling over to him that the whole family had left on a vacation of their own just a few days before. 

“Good thing we caught you then!” Hashirama declared. “No point in spending money on a lonely hotel room for two weeks when you could be catching up with me! I can’t believe how little you’ve changed!” 

“Really?” Tobirama muttered under his breath. If Madara had looked like this back in middle school he definitely would have remembered a face like that. Puberty would no doubt have smacked him in the face several years earlier. 

After a slow blink Madara grunted, “Beard.” That was, apparently, all he had to say on the matter. 

Never before in his life had Tobirama been quite so grateful to arrive home as he was that day, spilling out of the car and heading for the door as if all the devils of hell were chasing him. He made it in to the kitchen with enough time to set the kettle boiling and slip back out towards his bedroom before the other two even made it inside. The planet earth itself would fall out of its heavenly rotation before he let Madara walk in and see the absolute mess he typically lived in, research notes strewn here and there, clothing left on the floor where it was shed after yet another twenty hour binge on the latest project. No one needed to know the shame of his bedroom during the months when Itama was gone.

Just as he kicked out a foot to steady a precarious stack of textbooks the door opened and Hashirama cheerfully invited their guest in to a room that wasn’t even his. Madara blinked around, eyes pausing on the one bed that had clearly not seen any recent use. 

“Hope you didn’t clean up or anything,” he said. “It’s just me.”

“Oh don’t worry, Tobi’s always really clean!” Hashirama chirped, oblivious to his brother’s uncomfortable shifting. 

“Right. Where can I drop this?” 

Madara held up the duffel he’d been carrying when they spotted him on the street. When told he could put it anywhere he liked it was tossed on the floor with little care, a sure sign there wasn’t anything too breakable inside. A moment later he seemed to think the better of his actions and asked where the bathroom was as he stepped across to riffle in one of the duffle’s pockets. 

As quickly as he had hurried to his own bedroom Tobirama was gone again just like that. The kettle should be going off any second and he was pretty sure if he stuck around for Madara to come out of the shower all damp and delicious and possibly half naked - well, suffice to say the police probably wouldn’t accept any of the excuses running through his mind just then. 

Like it always did, a large hot cup of tea helped to settle him in his skin, leaving him feeling much more in control of his own reactions by the time Hashirama came back downstairs. His brother gave vent to a gusty contented sigh while he poured a cup for himself. 

“It’s hard to believe Uchiha Madara of all people is upstairs in my home!” he said. “Honestly I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. But, isn’t it funny, i was just thinking about him the other day!”

“Whatever keeps you going when Mito tells you to bite the pillow,” Tobirama murmured. 

“No! Ew! It’s not- hey! She doesn’t make me do anything like that!” Hot tea sloshed all over the counter as Hashirama slammed his cup back down and bent double to gag exaggeratedly. Sometimes it was hard to believe he had failed drama in highschool what with all the dramatics he filled every day with. 

Tobirama let the poor idiot catch his breath a little before daring to ask, “He taking a shower before dinner?”

“Um, I guess so. He didn’t say. What would you like to eat?”

Dinner - fish, of course, since the choice was left to him - was about as quiet as meals in their house ever got with Hashirama chattering endlessly. Amazingly Madara actually seemed to be listening to it all, nodding in the right places or humming in tandem with Tobirama whenever it was needed. It was nearly impossible to tell what was actually going on in his mind and Tobirama hated himself just a little for being so desperately intrigued by it. He’d never loved anything more than puzzles, taking things apart to see what made them tick, digging and digging until he ran out of questions to answer. People like Madara were exactly the sort of rare person who were able to hold his attention. 

Even more so since their guest came down for the evening meal with a clean shaven face, dark shaggy beard sacrificed to the waste bin upstairs, and Tobirama came to the horrifying conclusion that it needed to be glued back in place as soon as possible. Surely it had to be illegal for any human being to walk around looking as delicious as this. It wasn’t fair.

Under normal circumstances he would have said that going to bed was a relief, being allowed to crawl between familiar sheets and allow the privacy of his own room to unclench the tensions in his body. With Madara stumping in to the room after him he knew that he had nothing to look forward to but a few hours of restlessness until he gave in and snuck off to shame himself in the bathroom down the hall. Itama’s ancient bedframe gave a mighty creak the first time its new resident sat down. Normally it bore a much lighter load than all the rippling muscles clinging to Madara’s frame but it held up alright and the two of them were able to lay their heads down with goodnights murmured in to the darkness. 

Tobirama lasted only an hour and a half. He really hoped the other man only thought he was getting up to pee. 

During the day things weren’t so bad. For the most part Madara spent his time with Hashirama getting dragged from one end of the city to the other to re-experience all the things they had done in their childhood together. It was actually somewhat of a relief not to be the center of his brother’s attention for a while, left blissfully alone to work on his research and occasionally greet the ghost of Kawarama whenever he ambled past for food or water before holing up again. With one sibling down for the count and the other away for university the task of indulging Hashirama’s ceaseless energy had fallen entirely to him and it wasn’t until he was finally able to be productive again that he realized just how little he’d been getting done lately. 

Even meal times weren’t too terrible if he kept his eyes on his food instead of the tasty meal he would rather be having across the table. It was the evenings when he truly suffered. Getting Madara to come out of his shell and actually engage in conversation had taken a couple days, out of practice as he was from spending most of the few years quietly knocking and hauling lumber, but once he finally opened his mouth long enough to say more than two words together Tobirama was exasperated to discover a mind as beautiful as his face. Was there any way this man wasn’t perfect for him? The universe must be having a grand laugh at him, that was the only explanation he could think of. 

Still, as much havoc as it wreaked on his libido it was wonderful to have someone else to converse with who could actually keep up with him. Madara understood the basic concepts of his research, asked intelligent questions, even offered a few philosophical insights that Tobirama himself hadn’t thought of. If he didn’t want the man in his bed so badly it hurt he might have been tempted to offer him a job as a research assistant. 

He saw the signs coming from a mile away of course. Stopping it was impossible, though he still gave it the old college try. Catching feelings for his brother’s friend, a man who was only in town for a few weeks and then would likely never be back again, was probably one of the stupider things he had ever done. Tobirama wanted to be mad at the idiot for not just being a pretty face he could seduce and then let go of but it wasn’t like it was Madara’s fault that he checked every box on a lonely albino’s list. He probably wasn’t even aware of how tempting he was. Tobirama really hoped the poor man hadn’t noticed all the drooling and staring and whatnot. 

For a little over two weeks things went on like that, so close and yet so far, sleeping in the same room and slipping away to the bathroom for a while just to get himself to sleep. Even as a teenager his body hadn’t ruled him this much. If their family hadn’t been raised to be so frugal it was entirely possible that nothing would have changed, that they would have parted ways as nothing more than a what-if. But Itama loved that old bed no matter how it creaked and groaned and so none of them had ever thought of replacing the ancient thing until one night Madara flopped down on to the mattress and with a loud protest the entire frame shattered underneath him. Almost more shocking that that was the indignant squawk that gurgled up his throat, so unlike the smooth deep baritone he usually spoke in. Tobirama could do nothing but stare from where he stood halfway through the motion of getting up, one arm outstretched, and try to process what had just happened. Apparently all that muscle was too much for the bed to handle. 

He could relate.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Madara blinked up from the center of the now very lumpy looking mattress.

“I’ve been better.”

“You didn’t hurt anything did you?”

“No. Well, I think I hurt the bed.” With a groan he rolled off the mess and stumbled to his feet where he stood looking down with a wry expression. “I’ll pay for that.”

Money was not exactly the most pressing concern on Tobirama’s mind at the moment. “That, ah, is that just some of the frame pressing up from underneath?”

Praying to all of his ancestors that the mattress was still usable even if it had to rest on the floor, he watched the other man haul the entire thing up with one hand like it weighed no more than a feather and tried not to whimper. With no light but the moonbeams twisting around the curtains it was easy to see there was nothing directly under the mattress that would make such shapes. 

“Bunch’a springs broke under the pressure, I think,” Madara concluded. When he let the whole thing drop back down it did so with a muffled thud much like Tobirama’s heart inside his chest. “Guess I won’t be sleeping there anymore.”

“Not unless you want metal springs digging in to your spine all night long.”

Madara nodded slowly. “Couch it is, then.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to be an option,” Tobirama reluctantly called the man back before he could get halfway to the door. He tried not to be obvious about cringing when Madara turned to pin him in place with dark eyes turned obsidian by the shadows around them.

“Why not?” 

“You’ve been here an entire week and I’ve never once seen you sit comfortably on the sofa. It’s just not built to hold someone of your...stature.”

For the space of three heartbeats Madara did nothing but stare and blink. Then he sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose with one hand because it was true. Hashirama had bought most of their living room furniture for his tiny wife and his three whipcord thin brothers; he himself preferred to disappear in to the single cushy armchair that could actually hold his tall frame. If Madara went to go sleep on either of the two couches he would probably roll off the first time he tried to take a full breath in. 

Genius that he was, Tobirama had already done the calculations. He already knew what doom was about to fall upon him. In their house there were four beds for four people and two couches. One of those beds already had two people in it, Mito quietly arriving home from her work trip earlier that evening. Another contained one highly contagious whiny Kawarama and stank of dog after several days of the two curled up together in it. Now the third bed had collapsed, frame and mattress and all, leaving only one other place left as an option for sleeping.

Tobirama squirmed. Why had he ever thought it was necessary to buy such a roomy bed? He was only one person, surely a twin mattress would have held him and saved him from eyeing the several feet of unused space at his side with defeat in his bones. It was this or ask Madara to sleep on the floor. 

“So if I can’t sleep on the couches then where the hell am I supposed to sleep?” He even eyed the carpet as though wondering whether it was plush enough to let him get some rest but one night wasn’t the problem. Laying flat out on the ground for several days in a row would do murder on anyone’s back and just because his job left him in the wilds for months at a time didn’t mean he had to play at camping even in his off time. 

“I’ve got room here,” Tobirama forced himself to say.

“You don’t have any sort of air mattress or anything?” 

“Not anymore, no. Our dog got in to the closet and chewed them all last summer.” 

He watched the other man nodding slowly, a small frown drawing his brows together, and wondered if the option was really so detestable to consider. The offer was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Mito would share a bed with him instead for a few days so Madara could rest beside the friend he had much better reason to trust but the words never had a chance to be spoken. 

“You don’t kick or anything, do you?” 

“No,” he murmured, hardly daring to breathe. 

“Right.” 

Then Madara snatched up the same pillow he’d been using for the last couple weeks since Tobirama only had the one on his own bed and stumped across the room with all the grace of a bear. As unsexy as that image was Tobirama still managed to find his thoughts in the gutter, privately thinking that he wouldn’t mind taking up bear wrestling if this was his opponent. 

Somehow he managed to keep such thoughts to himself as the mattress dipped to accommodate more than double the weight it was used to. Convincing the anatomy inside his trousers that it was not Go Time was a little more difficult to do. Tobirama carefully rolled on to the side facing away from his new bed partner; at least in this position he was only tenting his own clothing rather than the bedding as well. Nothing could possibly make his desires more obvious. After a moment’s pause he felt Madara shifting around and finding a position to settle in to as well, hopefully facing away from him though he couldn’t exactly see what was going on. When the movement finally stopped he cleared his throat. 

“Night,” he mumbled awkwardly. Madara grunted, which he had learned was about the equivalent of him saying it back. 

In the silence that followed Tobirama dearly regretted leaving the curtains cracked. Just that small amount of light made shadows on the wall for him to trace with his eyes and glare at as though they were the source of all his problems. If there were shadows on the wall that meant there was enough light for Madara to see if he threw back the covers and tried to escape to the bathroom. Not to mention that it would be much harder to sneak off even after the man had fallen asleep when there was a chance any shifting of the mattress could wake him again and alert him to Tobirama’s nightly embarrassment. 

He smothered a groan and curled a little tighter in to himself. Sleep was an impossibility when all he wanted was relief and there didn’t seem like a safe way to achieve that with the source of all his delicious miseries lying so close. It seemed he was doomed to simply lie here while his balls turned bluer and bluer. 

“Alright?” The word rumbled low in the space between them and Tobirama nearly leapt out of his skin. 

“What?”

“If you’re not feeling good I don’t want to catch anything.”

Clenching his fists he grumbled, “I’m not sick.”

“Seems like you’re not alright though,” his companion mused. 

“Oh and how would you know?”

A beat passed before Madara answered. When he did his tone sounded almost hesitant in a strange way. “You don’t usually sleep all curled up in a ball. Is it your stomach? Maybe dinner doesn’t agree with you.” 

Pausing in his prayers for death to take him in a localized strike of lightning, Tobirama frowned in to the darkness. It wasn’t such an unusual question - or it wouldn’t have been if they had known each other for any appropriate length of time. He struggled over whether or not to say something until finally his curiosity couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Do you...watch me sleep?”

Choking sounds accompanied the sudden brush of air against the back of his neck, startling enough that he instinctively shot up on to one elbow so he could twist around. There he was greeted with the sight of Madara spluttering and cutting his way through several disconnected syllables. It was hard to parse which part of the scene before him was the most shocking, the fact that Madara was quite obviously embarrassed or the fact that he had apparently settled down to sleep facing the center of the bed rather than away towards the wall. 

“I’m just...observant!” He finally managed to choke out. 

“While we’re both lying down on opposite sides of the room you somehow manage to observe my position every night when your eyes are supposed to be closed?” 

Madara flushed visibly. “I have trouble sleeping a lot. Sometimes I sit up for a while!” 

Fascinating as it was to see a new flustered side to such a composed man of so few words, Tobirama couldn’t truly enjoy this rare opportunity when he was distracted with yet another devastating revelation. 

“How long does it usually take you to get to sleep?” he whispered. 

“A couple hours.” The words had already passed the man’s lips before Madara seemed to realize what he had just given away.

“Oh.”

The two of them stared at each other, wide eyed and silent, as they both processed what the other now knew. If Madara was awake each night long enough to observe what position Tobirama fell asleep in then he was awake each night to observe him slipping out of bed and down the hall for much longer than one would need for a simple nightly piddle. He knew. And he hadn’t said anything. 

“It’s not every day,” Tobirama blurted without thinking. “I’m not some kind of obsessed nymphomaniac or anything.”

“Right.”

“I’m not!”

“Okay. So. Is it just...me then?” 

The twitch in his pants said yes but the flaming heat in his face, well, that probably also said yes despite what he would have preferred. All the genius in the world couldn’t help him think his way out of this particular spot, lying in the same bed with a man he could already feel himself developing very ill advised feelings for while that very man stared back at him processing the knowledge that he was very interested in taking up certain physical activities together. What would Hashirama do, he wondered, if he woke up tomorrow morning to discover that his little brother had been smothered to death by those glorious and very strong biceps?

“Didn’t mention it to your brother yet,” Madara finally spoke again. “Wanted Izuna’s opinion on the idea first. But I’ve been thinking about moving back in to town lately. I got a job offer at one of the factories.” 

“O-oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Think maybe you’d want to grab a coffee or something sometime?” Somehow the man was able to project both flawless confidence and an adorably unexpected shyness at the same time.

Tobirama nearly swallowed his own tongue trying to rein in his own frantic nodding. “I’d like that.” 

“Good, good.”

All plans for throwing himself off the edge of the earth were put on hold. How the hell he had missed his dream hunk returning any sort of interest was beyond him but the last thing he would be doing was complain about it. Who was he to say no when being handed everything he thought he couldn’t have? All wrapped up in a pretty package with gorgeous unruly hair, naturally pouty lips, and thighs he would be happy to have his head crushed between. Whatever small fragment of the universe had taken pity on him deserved a massive ethereal fruit basket in thanks for giving him this. 

“You wanna make out?” Madara cut in to his thoughts. “Or do we need to wait for that first date?”

“Now is good,” Tobirama breathed, already twisting the lower half of his body to face inwards as well. Maybe later he could take the time to be ashamed of his own enthusiasm but right now he had an entire beefcake to throw himself on and judging by the appreciative moan that greeted him it didn’t seem like Madara had any problems with that. 

He had already managed to roll himself on top of this woodsman adonis and gasp at the stretch in his thighs for how wide they had to open just to sit astride those hips when he paused, pulling away from quite possibly the most mind-bending kiss he’d ever experienced in his life.

“What’s your opinion on wood puns?” he mumbled. 

“I will kill you,” Madara replied with absolutely no inflection. 

“Noted. Can I wear your shirt tomorrow?” 

“You would look absolutely terrible in tartan.” One dark eyebrow lifted slowly, something like hunger gathering in the man’s eyes. “Sure.” 

Tobirama shivered and decided if he said anything else he would probably spill every dirty possessive thought his brain had ever come up with. It was much safer to dive in again and tremble under the feeling of large hands curling around his bottom. 

Maybe - maybe - he was glad that Hashirama had decided to take a different route home that day and happened to spot his old friend. A reward this good was definitely worth the torture of thinking it was all beyond his reach, that he would suffer through the stages of falling in love and then be forced to ssay goodbye when Madara left, to never see the man again. Whatever it took to convince him that moving back in to town was a good plan he would do it. Even if he had to track down this Izuna fellow himself and beg on his knees for a little support. 

For now the only thing he planned to do on his knees was moan, however. Possibly beg. That depended entirely on how far Madara was willing to go before they even made it out for a simple coffee or discussed anything between them with any sort of depth.

Whatever the case, he just really hoped his brother was well and truly asleep down the hall because he had zero plans for staying quiet after finally getting his hands on such a perfect dream. 

[savannacentralperk]

Feelings be Known

-Judy- So, I’m texting you with good faith that you will not abuse my number

-Dumb Fox- :) u shall be known from here on out as CARROTS <<<}= 

- <<<}= - …………you’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you.

-Dumb Fox- (\_/)

                    (o.o)

                    (___),  ………thats u…….. cuz ure a bunny……..

- <<<}= -………….so much regret………

={>>> <<<}=

“Ok, tell me about it one more time!”

Judy pulled the last of her things from her locker, hiding her smile behind the door of it. Zipping up her back pack, she exaggerated a sigh as she slammed it closed. A chubby, red fox was beaming excitedly at her from the other side. His blue eyes sparkled as his paws clutched a cupcake container, ears perked to hear about her latest visit to Zootopia.

“Gid,” Judy giggled. “I’ve already told you about it, like, six times!” Her eyes went to the container in his paws. “I’d think you’d be tired of me talking by now.”

The pair started walking towards their next class, the fox’s eyes cast upwards as he sighed longingly.

“Your brother is livin’ my dream,” he groaned. “And he’s lettin’ me spend a weekend followin’ him! I practically drove my ma and granddaddy crazy this week, I was bakin’ so much.”

“Hence the cupcakes?” Judy gave the container a pointed glance and small smile. Jack always passed on some tips to Gideon when he was in town and the young fox hero worshipped him.

At her comment, he grinned and popped the lid open. The treats weren’t the prettiest looking -Gid was still a work in progress- but the smell alone made Judy drool.

Jack has some serious competition, she thought as her friend’s paw selected one for her.

“This one I made specifically for you, Judes.” He proudly present her treat with a wide grin. “Carrot cupcake with salted caramel frosting. See this little thing?” A claw pointed to a small orange disk tuck into the frosting. “I made candied carrots!”

With a bright smile, Judy accepted her treat and took a huge bite as they walked. She groaned with delight at the flavor, her friend straightening himself up with pride.

“You are going to love working with my brother, Gid.” Another large bite was taken as she glanced down at the container again. “Not to be greedy, but is that all you made?”

“Naw, I’ve been handin’ ‘em out.” The fox stopped in front of Mr. Oats, the janitor, offering a treat to him. The old goat beamed and thanked him before the two continued. “I gave a batch to the teachers for their lounge, gave a few to some other friends-”

“Wait!” Gid stopped walking to look over at the doe in surprise. Her purple eyes were on one of the cupcakes left in the container. “Is that coconut?”

A knowing smile crossed her face as she looked up at Gideon. The fox dropped his gaze and stammered, his ears and tail falling.

“…Y-yes…”

“You’re allergic to coconut,” she hinted with a grin. “And you always said you wouldn’t work with it.”

“Wouldn’t work with what?” Both turned to the new voice that came up beside Judy.

A black sheep, only slightly taller than the doe with a white pastry box in her hooves, looked between the two.

“N-nothin’,” said Gideon, shooting Judy a warning glare. The rabbit giggled and decided she was better off shoving the rest of her cupcake in her mouth.

“Gid, thank you for the cupcakes!” The ewe lifted the box and beamed at the todd. “Coconut is my absolute favorite and these are the best I’ve ever had.”

Judy snorted through her mouthful, causing both of her friends to stare at her. Gideon glared while the ewe just looked worried.

“N-no worries, Sharla,” he said as the bunny still laughed and choked on her dessert.

“Well, thanks again! I gotta go clean out my locker now.” Sharla cheerfully started skipping away, then turned back to them with a grin. “Can you believe it’s the last day of school already?”

Judy was finally able to get herself under control as they watched her friend disappear around a corner. Gid let out a sigh as Judy smiled and shook her head.

“Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.” She looked up at her friend who was still staring dreamily in the direction where Sharla had vanished. “How long now?”

“Since the third grade.”

“Is that why you always stole her markers when she was trying to make her science project?” The fox nodded glumly. Judy patted his elbow. “You know she has a crush on you too, right?” She had never seen someone’s head snap up so quickly. His blue eyes widened as they landed back on her.

With a smile, he opened his mouth to reply, only to be stopped by a brown and cream buck. The new rabbit grabbed them both by the elbows and casted a worried glance behind him, guiding them down the hallway at a faster pace.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” he muttered as they were guided into the doorway of a classroom. Quentin, one of Judy’s litter mates, pushed them against the door and peered around the corner back into the hall.

“Who are we hidin’ from?” asked Gideon.

The buck shushed him and waved his paws to dismiss the question. After a time, he sighed with relief and gave a shaky laugh.

“I called George a bucked tooth fuck face,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “And now he and his cronies are out for blood.”

Judy groaned and buried her face in her paws as Gideon laughed, almost spilling the box of treats in his paws. Quentin gave a sheepish grin and shrugged at their reactions before giving the hall another cautious glance. “Why would you call him that?” asked Judy, slightly exasperated.

“Because he is one! Strutting around, acting like he’s Serendipity’s gift to does. And I figured, since he likes you, Judy, that he wouldn’t start anything if I’m hanging around.” Her brother slowly crept out of the doorway, motioning them to follow.

“He’s wasting his time,” she replied, rolling her eyes. At that moment, her phone chimed.

And her ears went red when she opened the Snapcat to Nick’s face, with a wide exaggerated grin, and the banner “TWO MORE DAYS LEFT OF SCHOOL!”. Before she could stop herself, she hit ‘respond’ and snapped a selfie.

‘THIS IS MY LAST DAY! HAHAHA!’

-Dumb Fox- …ouch, carrots. very ouch

<<<}= - Hey, Slick? What has two thumbs and starts summer vacation two days before you? THIS DOE!

-Dumb Fox- What has 2 thumbs and owes me ice cream 4 a week? U DO!! ;)

She laughed at that only to look up at the sound of clearing throats. Gid and Quentin grinned at her before they shook their heads and started back down the hallway.

“What?” She regarded them with wide eyed confusion as the two males exchanged looks.

“It’s just heart-warming to see you with a crush!” cooed her brother. “Always dreamed this day would come! Always thought it would be another bunny but, eh! What can you do? At least it’s not George.” With a sudden gasp, he turned and gave her a hopeful smile. “Can I be the one to tell him you have a boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a crush and I don’t have a boyfriend!” She cried out in frustration. Gideon laughed and called over his shoulder.

“Like you don’t enjoy lookin’ into those big brown eyes of his!” That caused Judy to rush after the two of them.

“Ha! His eyes are green!” she said in triumph.

The buck and fox both dissolved into laughter. “You just proved our point!” Her brother was still laughing as he waved good bye to them and ducked into his class.

“Oh, please!” Judy scoffed. “Nick is a huge jerk who thinks he knows everything and won’t stop talking about ice cream.”

Gideon nodded as he considered her words. Without saying anything, a large paw reached out towards her phone. She surrendered it with quirked eyebrows and watched as he flicked through what she figured were her messages and Snaps. Smile still intact as the phone was placed back in her paws, the fox gave a final, firm nod at her.

“He has a crush on you, too.” And with that, Gideon pulled open their classroom door and smirked back at her before vanishing through it.

Judy looked down at her phone as it beeped again.

- <<<}= Regular Carrot. <}= little carrot! <<<<<<<}= BIG CARROT!

    (\_/)

   (o.o)

   (___), and u, Carrots!

“Huh.” With a wrinkled brow, Judy tucked her phone away and went to class.

He is kinda cute, she thought. But, I don’t really like him… that much…

={>>>   <<<}=

For the sake of honesty, Nick had been sending out text rabbits to everyone in his phone, though Judy and Skye were the major recipients. Skye more so. He made sure that every opportunity he got, a rabbit was built and sent to his big sister, approximately one every forty-five minutes or so.

Finnick had threatened to bite his face off after the second, a threat Nick knew he would follow through with. David threatened to send his friend explicit pictures of himself, resulting in Nick sending him a link outlining the laws regarding child pornography. And proceeded to send him four bunnies in a row.

Now, with his day winding down, Nick leaned against his closed locker, waiting for Finnick. Two rabbits were sent to the rabbit that held his attention while he waited. His skateboard propped next to him and his backpack at his feet, Nick scrolled through her Snapcat stories, resisting the urge to screenshot the bunny’s latest post.

The other fox grinning next to her in it made his irritation rise, but her happy purple eyes were too irresistible to ignore. After back clicking, he selected another picture, this one of her wearing a cop hat and aviators. ‘Soon to be Officer Hopps’, the banner said. Nick’s smile widened at that.

He gave a startled yelp when the phone was tugged from his paws.

“Yowza!” came the grating voice of Nick’s least favorite mammal.

Daniel Woods, a woodchuck Nick had the displeasure of being in the Ranger Scouts with, held the phone out of reach as the fox lunged for it. Two wildebeest bulls stepped up to keep the fox from getting any closer. They both looked over their leader’s shoulder and gave looks of approval at the picture of the bunny.  

“Give me my phone back, dickweed,” he growled angrily.

Daniel simply smirked at him before turning his attention back to the screen and started flicking through her story boards.

“Kiss your mother with that mouth, Wilde?” he asked, eyes still on the screen. “And my, my, my.” He turned the screen towards him, a picture of Judy wearing her running gear flashed in Nick’s direction. “Please don’t tell me you think you would have a chance with her. Female this hot needs a real male, fox.

“MMM-hmmm,” he tossed the phone back to him. “Yeah, I remember her. That’s the rabbit that wants to be a cop, right? I saw her at camp on Saturday. Sweet piece of tail, she is. Much too sweet for a fox.” He waggled his eyebrows as Nick glowered at him. “Can’t see her saying no when I ask her out.”

Nick felt himself growl as the trio walked away, Daniel laughing as the twins followed him. His thumb hit the unlock button and his gaze found the picture again. She really was adorable.

My bunny is too smart to fall for you, Daniel, he thought with a frown. His eyebrows raised as a messaged popped up.

- <<<}= -  (\_/)      

              \(^o^)/

               (____),

And this is a happy bunny free from her LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!! Enjoy your next two days, Slick ;).

-Dumb Fox- Yeah, yeah, rub it in cottontail!

“Nicky!” The sudden shout almost caused the todd to drop his phone as his ears splayed back in alarm. A tall, slender mountain lioness rushed up to him, flyer in her paws and grin on her muzzle. Bouncing on the balls of her feet as she came to a stop in front of him, Nick repressed a groan.

“Hey, Tabitha,” he said with a forced smile while he craned his neck to look up at her.

“Oh my gods, Nicky.” She shoved a flyer into his paws. “I’m am throwing the BEST party this Friday! There’s going to be games, there’s going to be food, music, dancing! My parents are going to be there, but they said they would stay out of the way! Please, please, please, PLEASE! Tell me you’re going to be there!”

Her bright amber eyes gleamed as the fox gave a slight sigh of defeat and nodded to her. The resulting squeal had him flattening his ears as passersby winced at the high-pitched noise. With a happy hop, Tabitha clapped her paws together and started to walk away.

“Oh,” she added with a backwards glance. “Natasha is going to be there, too! I know she would love some one on one time with you!” With a final wink, she moved on to her next target.

“Who wants one on one time with you?” came the surprisingly deep voice of Finnick.

“Natasha,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. He went back to his phone to send another bunny to Skye. Finnick laughed as the red fox picked up his board and backpack. “Seriously, you’d think physically turning and heading in the opposite direction would be enough.”

“Must be tough for you,” agreed the fennec sardonically. “You going to Tab’s party, right?” Nick shrugged as they left the cool building and threw their boards to the ground. “So, practice on her.”

“What?” came the taller todd’s startled reply.

“You know.” Finnick shrugged as he pushed off with a kick of his hindpaw, his friend right behind him. “Natasha has the hots for you and she’s the hottest vixen in school. You haven’t even kissed anyone yet, so why not try it out with her? That way, there’s no serious pressure when you get that chance to kiss the bu… one you really want…”

Nick rolled his eyes at him, catching what the other fox had stopped himself from saying.

“Sounds like you want me to lead the poor vixen on,” he speculated, as he pumped his leg to maneuvered the board to an unsuspecting stone bench. “It also sounds really evil and heartless.”

Finnick whistled lowly as Nick ollied and pulled the grind off flawlessly.

“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t let a good opportunity to slip through your paws.”

Emerald green eyes rolled again. The idea of someone he felt nothing for, other than basic annoyance, taking his first kiss made his stomach turn. The two foxes skating side by side in silence helped his resolve. The fennec steered his board down a side street, motioning Nick to follow.

They had only just entered the surprisingly quiet area when he spotted what Finnick had dragged him here for. Both todds hopped off their boards, pushing them into the grass as they walked open mouthed towards their target.

It was a new addition to the outer decor of the Zootopia Museum of Modern Art. The lioness was posed seductively, her body upright, with one paw stretched to the sky and the other behind her head, which was angled down. Her shapely form was bare, her legs angled to hide her loins and chest hosting the barest hints of breasts. A perfect tail was wrapped around her form, the tip resting on her belly.

“Wow,” said Nick, as he accepted the can of spray paint from his friend. “They were really asking for it, weren’t they?”

“Yup,” was the amused response.

“Hallelujah,” he muttered, pulling the cap off. His phone went off as he got ready to change the muted grey of the statue’s tail to a hot pink.

-<<<}= - /\/\

             o   o

             =V=     It’s a fox!!! -

-Dumb Fox- That’s the dumbest fox I ever saw…

-<<<}=- I don’t think it looks that much like you… ;)

Nick chuckled to himself before pocketing his phone to shake the can of spray paint. Still smiling, he looked up at the statue and Finnick, having climbed to the top of it, and paused. His friend had fitted a mane on her head and a pair of star sunglasses to the bridge of her nose. A bikini top would follow, with bottoms tossed up to her raised paw.

It was something he and Finnick had done before, the results making them laugh for days afterwards. But Skye’s words echoed back at him. He hadn’t gone a single weekend without getting into trouble. Always being collected from the precinct or coming home with black eyes; his mother and sister passing by graffitied walls, wondering if it was because of him.

“Yo, Nick!”

His head snapped up to where Finnick was, his small paws gripping the neck of statue before beginning his descent down it.

“What’s the matter, fox?” The fennec’s paws landed lightly on the cement base, his big brown eyes peering over at his motionless friend. “That shit won’t spray itself.”

Any reply was cutoff at the sudden sound of a police siren right behind him. Officer Bogo, his brows furrowed in frustration, met the red todd’s gaze when he glanced over his shoulder. Paws gripping the paint, Nick grabbed his board and took off, Finnick close behind him.

“Hey, Finn?” he called over his shoulder, his voice slightly panicked. “Ever think that maybe we should give this whole thing a rest?”

Finn laughed as he threw his own down and jumped on.

“And miss all this cardio!” Two small paws were thrown in the air as he shot a grin to the cape buffalo who decided to not pursue them. “Never, fox! Never!”

Finicky cackled uproariously, his board zigzagging away. A short wave was given before he skated in the direction of his own home, leaving Nick to frown after him.

He spared a glance at the can still in his paw. Bringing his focus back to the sidewalk, he pumped his hind leg to gain speed. Green eyes caught sight of a trash bin coming up. Without a second thought, the todd aimed and tossed the can, grinning as it landed neatly inside it.

={>>>   <<<}=

Brook Fangmeyer looked down at the invitation in her paw. After Tabitha had bounced off, she had been sorely tempted to ball it up and throw it away. But she liked the cheerful lioness and knew it would mean a lot to her if she showed up. The fact that David Wolford had been seen grinning down at his own played no part in her decision to go.

Well, no large part.

Tabby was a friend and Judy would be around Friday. It would be good for the bunny to expand her Zootopian friend circle. With a final nod to herself, Brook’s mind was made up. She would go to the party and drag Judy along with her. Her phone pulled from her pocket, a quick message was typed out to her friend as she rounded the corner.

Unfortunate timing caused her to look up and instantly duck back into the hall she’d just left, the text she had been typing forgotten in her haste.

Peeking around her hiding spot, the tigress’ eyes widened at the sight of Dave leaning against his locker, a pretty white she-wolf beaming up at him. Brook watched as they giggled together and leaned close to exchange what she was sure was flirty banter.

C’mon, Brook, she thought to herself. You knew he was never really serious about liking you. He’s a fan of all females with a pulse.

But it didn’t keep the tears from stinging her eyes as she rushed back the way  she’d come.

={>>>   <<<}=

Skye stood over the register, smiling as she handed change over to the wolverine sipping her coffee, before turning to the crew working beside her. Sandra was clearing tables, Bobby restocking the coffee station, and Jon was fixing the dessert display.

Her eyes went to the order window, smile ready for the striped buck who seemed to know when she was looking at him. Without fail, they always locked gazes for several heartbeats before looking away with bashful grins as a blush swept over their faces.

But today, there was no Jack. Skye herself had bullied him out the door early that morning, talking over his concerns and reasoning away his misgivings about leaving the cafe.

“I don’t know, Skye,” he muttered, worrying his bottom lip as she shooed him to the door. “What if we get a massive order in? What if Jon gets confused and needs help? What if-“

“Judy is left waiting for her big brother, who promised to pick her up, and he never shows?” Skye smiled at her boss. “Jack, don’t worry, ok? This is why you hired me! I can run this place in my sleep. Have faith!” She gave him a wry smile when he still looked uncertain. “You do have faith in me, don’t you?”

At that, the buck’s ears shot up and he spun around to face her.

“Of course I do! You’re incredible! It’s ju-“

“Just that this is your first time leaving the cafe for longer than a few hours.” His bag was placed in his paws as she herded him outside to the pick-up truck he rented. “I promise I’ll call you if any of us have questions. Now, go get our bunny!”

She smiled at the memory of his slightly downcast smile and wave before hopping in the truck and driving away. Now, the normally cheerful cafe felt… barren without him. Without his muttering, without his ears shooting up to catch bits of conversation, without the slightly earthy scent that her nose could pick out from all the others, including the coffee.

Feeling despondent, she gave her head a shake and turned back to the cafe. Just in time for Sandra to come hurrying up to the coffee bar, a newspaper clutched in her paw.

“Hey, boss,” she gasped out, slightly wild eyed. Thrusting the paper towards her, the doe gave it a meaningful look. “You’re gonna want to read this.”

Blue eyes scanned over the article in her paw, her jaw dropping, before she gave a quick glance to the watch on her wrist.

“I’ll call him tonight,” she decided aloud, looking up at the workers reading over her shoulder. “He’s going to want to hear this.”

={>>>   <<<}=

Judy strolled the halls of Bunnyburrow Junior High for the last time, smiling as Gideon chattered on and on about his upcoming visit to Zootopia. Quentin was silently walking beside them, though it was mostly due to the leftover cupcakes the fox had surrendered. The rabbit buck happily munched away, nodding in acknowledgment of what was being said.

The doe, however, was too preoccupied to really pay either male any mind. With a distant smile, she fidgeted with her phone, unconsciously waiting for a text from another red fox. It wasn’t until her brother’s paw shot out to grip her arm that she was thrusted back into reality.

“Maple alert,” he muttered through a mouthful of cake. “Sorry, Gid.”

The todd’s ears flattened at the sight of the snow-white rabbit doe standing in front of the school. Already surrounded by their other brothers and sisters, her grey eyes were set upon the front doors expectantly. Her dislike for foxes was well known throughout the small town.

Her eyes landed on the trio exiting the building, her expression one of shock and distaste upon seeing Gideon. He gave a small sigh before he turned to the two rabbits beside him.

“I’ll text y’all later,” he said before walking away from them, giving their eldest sister an equally distrustful look.

“Bye, Gideon,” they muttered back as Maple approached. She scowled after the todd, taking both siblings by their paws and yanking them further away from his retreating form.

“I thought I told you guys to stay away from him!” She hissed through clenched teeth.

Judy tugged her paw free and Quentin’s ears drooped.

“He’s my best friend. I’m not going to just drop him because you tell me to,” she declared, storming towards her other siblings who were waiting for them. “Excuse me for having the ability to look beyond species, Maple.”

Maple released Quentin when they reached the others, many eyes and ears tuned to their sisters’ argument. Judy shook her head at her before stomping off.

“He’s a fox! Judy,” her sister scowled after. “You of all mammals know how vicious foxes can be! Remember what he did to your cheek? You still have the scars! It’s only a matter of time before he does something worse. All foxes should be rounded up and herded away from good society!”

Mouth falling open, Judy spun to glare at her big sister. She vividly remembered Jack’s reaction to Skye every time she entered the room. How his face would light up and his body vibrate with excitement at her proximity. Though she chose to reason away the butterflies she felt when Nick tucked his phone number into her paw.

“That’s an incredibly heartless thing to say. And as far as Gideon goes, we were five!” she argued. “And I scared him and stepped on his tail. He didn’t mean to scratch me and he’s more than made up for it since then. You don’t even know him, May!”

A chorus of ‘yeahs’ echoed around her as some of her younger siblings tailed behind their Judy. There were seven of them, ages five to nine. They were the ones to hang around her the longest before she left for Zootopia and the first to greet her when she came back. They followed her as ducklings would follow their mother, each wearing plastic sheriff stars pinned to their shirts.

And they all gave little gasps, as did the larger group surrounding Maple, when a speeding truck drove past them. One of the rabbits in the bed of it slapped the roof frantically, the driver pulling off to the side a few yards in front of the Hopps family. Judy groaned quietly to herself as the buck jumped from his seat to the sidewalk.

With a cocky strut, he gave a lopsided grin to the doe.

“Judy, Judy, Judy,” George purred, stopping in front of her. “You get prettier every time I see you.”

She could practically hear Maple’s beam at the cheesy pick up line, though Quentin’s gag was more audible. George’s eyes flicked over to him and narrowed, missing Judy’s eyeroll.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking, Judy,” he continued, “You and me, Friday night. We go to the movies, grab a bite to eat, then hit the arcade. Pick you up at five?”

He grinned at her, one that didn’t have time to fall as she side stepped him. “No, thank you,” came her flippant response. Her entourage filed after her, each one repeating “no, thank you” as they passed the stunned buck.

Judy didn’t even bother glancing back at George, though she could hear Maple and a few of her other siblings apologize for her behavior.

Quentin gave the rejected buck a smug look that dropped when those dark brown eyes narrowed on him again. He rushed after his sister and her followers, glancing back long enough to stick his tongue out at him.

“Judy!” Cried Maple. “Do you realize what you did?”

“Yup,” she responded as she continued on her way. They passed the parked pickup, ignoring the jeers and calls from George’s brothers waiting for him. Maple pushed herself next to Judy and stared down at her.

“So, you don’t care that a respectable, good looking buck asked you out and you rejected him like he was… was…”

“Was threatening to beat up my brother and makes a point to flirt with every doe he sees?” Judy waved a dismissing paw. “No thank you!”

“No thank you!” agreed her entourage.

The younger doe smiled to herself as Maple huffed as her phone buzzed in her paw. She fought to keep her smile from growing when she saw it was from Nick.

-Dumb Fox- dont b jelly, carrots ;), followed by a picture of the largest slice of pizza she had ever seen. The doe rolled her eyes and tucked her phone away.

“Besides,” she continued as she they rounded the bend towards the Hopps farm, “I’m going to be in Zootopia this Friday with…”

Her purple eyes widened further as she spotted an unfamiliar truck in the driveway. With a look at the Savanna District licenses plate, Judy gave an excited squeal and took off, her followers cheering and laughing alongside her.

“Jack!” they chorused.

Judy darted across the front yard, up the porch steps, through the front door, and into the kitchen.

“Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack!” she chanted, grinning at the sight of her big brother in the kitchen, along with a dozen or so other siblings.

Jack grinned back at her, pushing away from the dinner he was helping his mother make, and rushed forward to scoop her into a firm hug. Their younger siblings who had followed crowded around his legs, each trying to get a hug in while shrieking their excitement. Setting Judy down, he knelt to give them all a tight embrace.

“Looks like your fan club grew, Bun Bun!” he laughed. Straightening up and returning to his task, Judy came to peer around his shoulder.

“Ravioli?” she questioned. “Awfully fancy for a group of country folk.”

Jack grinned as he spooned a dollop of seasoned squash and cashew ricotta into an evenly spaced row on the raw pasta.

“It’s a special occasion,” he reasoned. “How often am I home? And when I leave I’m taking you with me!” He winked at his little sister, before refocusing on his dish. “Only right we do it up proper! Right, Mama?”

Bonnie Hopps had come in from her herb garden, passing some of her bounty off to another son to use in the sauce, before she smiled back at him.

“Sure!” she agreed. “Let’s go with that!”

Taking another spoon and sampling Jack’s filling, she gave a slight groan and a nod of approval. Her eyes flicked over his messy apron, tattered t-shirt, and worn jeans.

“Sweetheart?” He glanced up and smiled in acknowledgment. “What are you wearing for dinner tonight?”

Smile dropping, blue eyes filled with confusion. “This…?”

Bonnie shook her head. “No, no, no! Absolutely not. I picked out a nice outfit and laid it on your bed in your old room! After this, wash up and change.”

And with that, their mother kissed his cheek, hugged Judy and went about her rounds in the kitchen, Judy’s entourage following in her wake. Jack gave a perplexed glance at her retreating form before turning back to Judy.

“Should I be worried?”

Judy took her own sample and nodded, smiling at the sweet and nutty taste of the ravioli filling.

“Fancy meal, no doubt better clothes, and I saw her pull the nice table cloth out last night. The one she uses for special occasions.” She shrugged, hefted her backpack a bit further up her shoulders. “Brace yourself.”

Jack sighed and finished up the ravioli, passing it on to another sibling to cook. A ding from his phone pulled both their attentions.

“Another order?” Jack muttered to himself, glancing at the screen. “That’s the fourth one in the last hour…”

“That’s good though, right?” His little sister looked up at him and quirked her ears at him as he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s just weird,” he commented with a shrug then went to walk the kitchen, triple checking that everything was on track. “Trials of popularity and all that.”

Judy laughed before heading in the direction of her room. Spotting a bowl of fresh picked blueberries waiting on the counter top, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of them.

- <<<}= - Don’t be jelly, Slick ;)

={>>>   <<<}=

Three hours later, Jack was smoothing his paws over the sweater vest his mother had picked out for him. Dark grey, paired with matching slacks and a navy blue button down, the buck repressed a groan when he caught his reflection in the hallway mirror.

“At least she didn’t make me wear a suit,” he muttered, turning to the side to judge his temporary new look. “I look like the kit that gets his lunch money stolen in middle school…”

“You really do,” came the cheerful voice of his litter mate, Tom. With a wide grin, the dark-brown furred buck threw his arm around his sibling and ruffled the fur between his ears.

Laughing, Jack pushed him away but didn’t bother to fix himself.

“You are the luckiest buck in Bunnyburrow, by the way,” exclaimed Tom, steering his brother towards the kitchen. “Wait till you see who’s coming to dinner.”

Tom hurried away, smoothing the fur between his ears as he went, leaving Jack groaning internally. Crossing through the kitchen doorway, his mother looked up from handing off dishes to her various kits. Bonnie gave an appraising look to her son before nodding in satisfaction.

“Perfect!” She smiled happily as she made her way to him, smoothing out the collar of his shirt before patting his cheek. “Blue really is your color, sweetie.”

The sound of the screen door opening, Stu coming through the door with a wine bottle in his paws. He paused at the sight of his wayward son, chuckling as he eyed what he wore.

“Chess club meeting here tonight?” he asked with a grin. Jack stuck his tongue out at his dad before accepting a large bowl of salad to put on the table. And scowled at his next words, whispered to his wife when he thought Jack was far enough. “And you’re sure she’s coming over?”

={>>>   <<<}=

Every high school has that one mammal everyone wanted to date, be, or be around. Whether it was looks, popularity, or material possessions, that mammal (or mammals) tend to leave their peers panting after them. And many were left with lingering longing when thought of, even years after everyone parted ways.

For Jack’s peers, it was Emma Longrass.

She was the epitome of what a bunny doe should be. Slender and graceful, golden brown fur and hazel eyes, active in the community, cheerleader and prom queen, and had been crowned Carrot Queen three years running at the annual Carrot Days festival. Jack’s fellow bucks had been in fierce competition for her affections.

Jack himself had entertained the thought of asking her out. Until the striped buck watched her toy with two of his best friends, pitting them against each other only to start dating someone from another school. So, seeing her walk through his parent’s back door was a bit of a shock.

Still just as gorgeous as he remembered, dressed to kill, she fixed him with a hungry look that made him wish he had brought Skye. His parents might have thrown a fit, but the vixen was a more welcomed sight. It took everything he had not to curl his lip in disgust when Emma approached him. Attention turned back to the dressing he was finishing, an exasperated groan withheld when she leaned against the counter next to him.

“Why, hello there,” came the familiar sultry voice.

“Emma,” he greeted, eyes still locked on his creation.

“I forgot how dashing you look, Jack,” she purred as her eyes trailed over him. “Zootopia has been good to you.”

She closed the distance between them, pressing herself to his side. Jack’s ears shot up as he leaned away. Emma simply smirked and raised a dainty paw to trace his ear alluringly.

“I can’t see myself not enjoying any part of this evening,” she whispered in a husky voice. She batted her eyes and pulled away as Maple and his mother entered to bring the last of the meal to the table. “I’ll save you a seat.”

With a wink, she took the dressing from him and greeted the does enthusiastically. Unease pooled in his stomach as he followed them to the dinner table. A quick glance over at Judy, seated further down, and he saw her own face twisted in dislike at the sight of Emma. Jack shook his head in despair at her, earning a giggle from his sister, before she pretended to gag. He snorted, causing the new doe to raise her brows at him as she took her seat beside the buck.

Jack had never wanted to tear his fur out more. And he had a sloth as his introduction to psychology professor in college. Sitting next to her gave him ample opportunity to figure out how to drown out her ceaseless chatter. A male could only hear about how she was the queen of Bunnyburrow and vice president of her sorority so many times.

Tom and his single brothers listened intently to the gorgeous doe, hanging on to her every word. They even laughed under their breath when she mockingly called Judy cute for wanting to be a cop. His little sister’s glare was dismissed and softened with Jack’s own, directed at Emma.

He couldn’t help but compare her to Skye. How the vixen turned to whomever was in the room to ask how they were. The way she listened to absorb what they said, not just to respond. How soft and lush her fur was compared to the doe next to him and how her tail seemed to always seek his ankles for a light brush.

And the fact that she, like Jack himself, encouraged his Judy to go after her dreams.

A muffled jingle reached his ears, temporarily halting the dinner conversation. Not even attempting to apologize, he reached into his pocket for his phone and smiled at the number.

“So sorry,” he said as he stood from his seat. “Business call! I’ll be right back.”

Bonnie sent him a stern look that he pointedly ignored and grabbed his wine glass. Racing to the patio, he leaned against the door and inhaled the late spring air before accepting the call. “Words will never be enough to convey my gratitude for your timing.”

On the other end, Skye grinned at the sound of his voice. Standing at her living room window, she surveyed her view. Part of her mind summoned the image of the handsome buck, he and his scent a phantom to all her senses.

“Having that great a time, are we?” She laughed at his scoff, before turning to grab the newspaper from her dining room table. “I actually wanted to read a little story to you. So, grab a seat and get comfortable.”

Bemused, Jack walked to the swinging bench and settled down, taking a long pull from his wine glass.

“All right!” he confirmed. “I’m ready to be entertained.” He smiled at the sound of the vixen clearing her throat.

“‘Sweet satisfaction can be found in Downtown Zootopia, within the Savanna District’s own historic Brownstone Grass Street. The charming, renovated duplex is home to one of the many gems our fair city hides away for rainy days and this food critic was lucky enough to have stumbled upon it.’”

Slack jawed, the buck sat and listened to his fox read the latest review of the Perk. Everything was given a glowing critique, from the decor to the traditional drip coffee. And when the mention of personalized orders was brought up, the flood of them he received made a lot more sense.

“Jack,” breathed Skye. “What I have in my paws is a rave review, found in the Zootopian Times and written by FRU FRU BIG!”

The buck had taken a drink from his wine, only to spray it out at the mention of the popular columnist. Fru Fru Big was the final say in Zootopia when it came to food, fashion, and culture. Brands that were mentioned, places that were visited, and meals that were consumed by the shrew could be made or broken at the moment of publication.

“Holy shit…” Jack numbly blinked, absorbing the surprising news. A thought flirted through his head. “Hold on Skye.”

Pulling the phone from his ear, he opened his email and scrolled through.

Pausing at one, he drew in a deep breath as he read through the preview.

Raising the phone once more, he took a few breaths to calm himself down.

“She scheduled a cake tasting with me…” Skye gasped on the other end.

“Oh my, Karma…” She gave a small squeal that had him holding his phone at arm’s length from his ear. “Jack! This is so exciting!”

“And it’s all thanks to you,” he said with a grin. He chuckled at her huff.

“Hardly! I haven’t even been here a week yet. So, really, it’s all thanks to your hard work and perseverance.” Silence followed her statement, both mammals breathing softly into their phones, smiling to themselves at the sounds of their breath. “Miss me yet?”

Jack closed his eyes and smiled bigger at the twinge of hope in her voice. “Would you judge me if I said yes?”

Skye laughed at that. “My heart would be too broken to feel judgement if you said no.”

“In that case…” The vixen held her breath at his pause. “Yes, I do.” She grinned and moved back to stand at her living room window, the lights of the city dimmed by the reflection of a beaming fox. “I’ll be back in the afternoon. Hopefully sooner.”

“Can’t wait,” she whispered, her heart pounding. Another easy silence followed.

“Good night, Skye,” the rabbit breathed.

“Good night, Jack.” She started to pulled her phone away before a sudden thought occurred to her. “And Jack? I miss you, too.”

She hung up before he could respond. Sitting on the porch swing, with light from the kitchen window pouring over him, he lowered the phone to his lap. Her picture still showed on the screen, a candid shot he had taken when they were closing together earlier in the week.

His heart gave a pleasant flutter as he studied it and mulled over the article he had been read. The opening and closing of the kitchen door was an unwelcome greeting to reality. Blue eyes met purple as Judy came to a stop in front of him.

“She’s still talking. I have no idea what she’s saying,” she sighed. “It’s all one big blah, blah, blah.”

“So, really it’s just BLAH?” He laughed, pulling a silly face at her.

“More or less,” she tapped her foot impatiently. “So, I’m here to drag you back in before I rip her ears off and stuff them down her throat.”

Her brother stood and wrapped an arm around her as they walked back to the dinner table. With a reassuring squeeze to Judy’s shoulder, Jack took his place once more with murmured apologies.

“Jack,” his mother called, “Emma was just telling us she works at a marketing firm in Zootopia. What was the name of it again, sweetheart?”

“Paddington Marketing,” she replied smugly. Turning to him, she quirked her eyebrows as he tried to put his attention back on her and away from fluffy, snow white fur and blue eyes. “You know, there are a lot of opportunities for advertising your cafe, Jack. My firm can help unlock it’s potential. And, because it’s me, I can get a huge discount for you on our services.”

That got Jack’s attention. Paddington Marketing was obscenely expensive, but one of the best in the business. His jaw dropped at her offer, not registering the smile she had had turned sultry.

“We can get together this weekend and talk business. Maybe over dinner?” She batted her pretty hazel eyes at him and his brothers (and a few of his sisters), both married and single gave a slight groan. Judy and Quentin giggled at the sharp whacks the married ones were given by their partners.

“I’m swamped with orders, actually,” Jack’s voice was surprisingly apologetic.

“But my store manager, Skye, is whom you’re going to want to meet with.”

He grinned at her disappointed pout. “And I think you’ll like her.”

={>>>   <<<}=

Vivian Wilde had had a long day. A really, really long day. She had spent the last three days working double shifts, ensuring she had Greg’s graduation day off. While things at the hospital weren’t crazy, the constant motion wore on her by the end of her third day.

Happy to be home, with her oldest son at work and her youngest in his room, she felt a rare sense of contentment as she folded the last of her laundry. The feeling came and went these days, sticking around just a bit longer as she became more comfortable with her own company.

She gave an absent smile as she reached towards the last shirt, recognizing it as Greg’s. After deftly folding it, it was placed at the top of the stack. The pile was dropped onto her bed before she crossed the hall to her eldest son’s room, the top drawer tugged open to put it away.

Only to find an open box of condoms. Withholding a sigh, the shirt was put away and the box was removed for examination.

“At least he’s using protection.” They were placed back where she found them, a slight tinge of guilt blooming at invading her son’s privacy. “They just grow up so fast.”

She blinked back tears before pulling out her phone. A quick message was sent to the son in question before she headed towards Nick’s room. He sat hunched over his desk, the lively music of the video game he played filling the space. Vivian smiled at him and cleared her throat. Nick started, looking guilty as he angled his face to hers.

“I’m getting hungry,” she said with a grin. “What do think about, oh I don’t know? Bugga Burger?”

“Bugga Burger?” His green eyes widened in surprise. Vivian never let them have fast food if she could help it. “What’s the catch?”

With a shrug and sly smile, she gave him a wink before replying. “Being seen out in public with your mother.”

“Done.” Nick and Vivian shook paws as he grabbed his hoody and followed her out the door.

The pair walked the short distance to the restaurant, Vivian telling her son all the gross medical stories she had, which he loved. He asked questions about the sex-ed class he was going to take while she tried to once again, wheedle information out of him about his crush.

What sort of vixen could have gotten his attention? She asked herself.

She reached for the door of Bugga Burger, looking down to smile at her son, only to see his attention was caught elsewhere. A young tigress she recognized as Brooklynn Fangmeyer was seated on an outside table, her face angled away. She was talking animatedly to a bunny on the screen of her phone.

“Please, please, please Judy!” she was whining. “I will owe you, like, all the favors if you go to this party with me.”

Vivian glanced at Nick and felt flummoxed. His face was alight with hope as he perked his ears to the conversation they were eavesdropping on. She took in how his tail was raised slightly, his fur on end as he seemed to wait for the response. Hiding a smile she waited patiently, now curious to know the answer herself.

“Fine, I’ll go!” came the distant response. Vivian raised her eyebrows as Nick fist pumped. “Only because I love you.”

“And because Nick Wilde is going to be there,” came the smart reply from Brook. Her son gasped, eyes going wide when the bunny began to stutter her response.

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she put her paw on her son’s shoulder, surprising him. He looked up and gulped, but all she did was smirk and jerk her head towards the restaurant lobby. Letting the door close behind them, her eyes sought out Greg’s, her smile growing at his happy wave.

Taking their place in line, she wrapped her tail around Nick and cleared her throat again.

“So,” she began. “Judy, is it?” Nick’s ears grew darker as he lowered his gaze and nodded. “A bunny?” The young todd seemed to shrink in on himself. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

She laughed at his groan as they stepped up to the counter, Greg already typing in his brother’s usual. He grinned at the two of them when the manager came over to comp the meal with a friendly smile and nod.

“Nothing but the best for you, Mama,” said Greg with a wink. Vivian grinned back and put her arm around Nick.

At least he’s using protection, she thought, contentment growing as they took their seats to enjoy their meal. Nick tore into his eagerly. And at least he’ll share if he needs to.

Yup, this is going to be a lot of fun.

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

26 Sterek

26. “According to US Weekly, we’re married.” Also on ao3!

"According to US Weekly, we're married."

Stiles punctuated his statement by slapping down a copy of the offending tabloid magazine on Derek's coffee table, none too gently. The table wobbled a bit from the amount of force he used, a steaming cup of coffee nearly spilling all over the table.

Beaming up at him from the glossy front page of the magazine was a blown up picture of him and Derek on the set between shoots. It was slightly blurred around the edges thanks to being zoomed in on so very much, proving just how much of an invasion of privacy it was.

He couldn't know for sure who had taken the photo, the article not disclosing the photographer, but Stiles had a sneaking suspicion of who it was nonetheless. He would have bet anything it was that creepy little snake Matt Daehler, the disgusting paparazzo who had made a name for himself by stalking celebrities and their families.

For the past few weeks, he had caught glimpses of someone slinking around behind the scenes, the hairs on the back of his neck rising whenever he did. Just a few days ago his suspicions that it was Daehler had been confirmed when he witnessed him lurking around one of the sets.

And now a picture of him and Derek was being circulated nationwide, various tabloids and newspapers hosting articles speculating about it. The picture was even being discussed on talk and morning shows that apparently had nothing else to talk to.

He folded his arms over his chest and raised an unamused, expectant brow at Derek who merely blinked up at him. When Derek failed to say anything, Stiles gestured emphatically down at the magazine.

In the picture, Derek was wearing one of his outfits for the movie: a dark navy blue waxed cotton jacket over a black sweater, dark jeans, black boots, black sunglasses...and a wedding ring. It was crucial to the role he was playing, the movie focusing on a single father raising his daughter while struggling with depression and PTSD.

It was sure to be a classic, full of emotional scenes highlighting the everyday challenges of life with mental illness, centering on the main character, Tyler, learning how to juggle his own issues along with his daughter's. Rather than glorify or romanticize both Tyler's mental illnesses and his self-care, the film explored the nitty gritty truth of depression and PTSD and suicidal thoughts.

However, while Derek's wedding ring was necessary for the movie, the matching ring on Stiles' hand was not.

Derek's arms were wrapped around him from behind in the picture, his ring gleaming in the sun as he smiled radiantly, his famous bunny teeth on full display. Stiles' left hand was resting on Derek's forearm as he laughed, showing off the matching silver band on his own ring finger, it too glistening in the sunlight.

He had to admit, they did look like a blissfully happy married couple hanging out on the set of a project they were both involved with. But in reality, it had just been a joke.

When the prop department had given his first ring to wear for the scene, it was a size too small, Derek unable to get it passed his first knuckle. Erica, the head of the department, had cursed and rifled through her bag to find another before hurrying away to give another actor their necklace, leaving Derek with the too small ring.

Smirking, Derek had grabbed Stiles' hand and slipped the ring on his finger instead, laughing raucously at Stiles' shocked and confused expression. Still guffawing, Derek had looped his arms around Stiles and pretended to pout about Stiles not wanting to marry him.

And now, the harmless joke between two friends was being blown way out of proportion and plastered all over the nation. It was a certifiable PR nightmare.

Already, Stiles had received calls from nearly every major magazine in the U.S. along with half of the gossip talk shows on the West Coast (not to mention all of the missed calls he had from his dad). And he was sure it was even worse for Derek and his agent, Peter.

Because Derek was one of the biggest names in Hollywood at the moment. He already had two Oscar nominees, one for best supporting actor and one for best actor period, along with three Screen Actors Guild awards.

After being a series regular on a somewhat popular show that had stretched on for seven seasons, Derek had begun appearing in movies, usually as minor side characters. But no matter what role he played, he always stole the show with his charisma and sincerity, amassing a huge following after acting in his first major length film.

He had shortly thereafter begun starring in more leading roles, his genuineness and unbelievable range, in addition to his agent's ruthlessness, allowing him to quickly become a star. Across the country, he was known for his devotion to his craft and his ability to play any part he was given.

In one of his first starring roles, he had enchanted viewers across the world with his sweet, down to earth portrayal of a nerdy author falling in love with his neighbor, a charming handyman. Then, in his next film, he terrified audiences with his bloodthirsty portrayal of a vicious, man-eating werewolf seeking revenge on the humans who had killed his family.

So while Derek was America's sweetheart, Stiles was just a celebrity business manager.

His only client was his best friend Scott, who was playing the part of Derek's brother in the movie, dedicating himself to making sure no one in the cutthroat business of Hollywood took advantage of his oftentimes naive friend. He was more comfortable behind the scenes, working somewhat anonymously in the background.

And now his face was all over the news. It was safe to say he was more than a little pissed off.

"Um, okay..." Derek answered, clearly and infuriatingly unbothered by the whole situation. Because why would he be? He was Derek freaking Hale. He had been the focus of the Hollywood rumor mill hundreds of times, none of the gossip actually true. For him, it was just business as usual.

Stiles let out a frustrated groan and plopped down in the chair across from the loveseat Derek was lounging on, burying his face in his hands. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide until the whole thing blew over. But he couldn't. He had too much to do.

He had interviews to arrange for Scott, along with meet and greets with fans and autograph signings, all of which were extremely necessary. Scott was still a newcomer in the business, so far his only roles being the goofy sidekick in a few TV shows and movies, but with the announcement of him starring in a movie with the Derek Hale, his future suddenly looked much brighter.

He certainly couldn't just abandon Scott to fend for himself. It would be an even bigger disaster than the picture!

"Fuck," Stiles breathed, realizing something he hadn't even considered before. He had been too worried about himself and his own reputation that he hadn't thought about Scott's. Now that he had, he whimpered, "Oh my god, this is gonna ruin Scott."

That seemed to catch Derek's attention. He sat up straighter, resting his elbows on his knees and narrowing his eyes at Stiles, tilting his head to the side. "How is it gonna ruin Scott?"

"Because," Stiles began, squeezing his eyes shut and scrubbing his hands over his face, feeling exhausted and angry and stressed and guilty. He dropped his hands into his lap afterwards, staring down at his cuticles that he had been chewing on earlier when he had first heard about the photo. "Everyone's gonna think he only got the part because we're married."

"C'mon, Stiles. It's not like anyone actually buys into this stuff," Derek said, reaching over to lay his hand on top of Stiles', giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Trying to stay optimistic, he continued on, explaining, "It's just gossip. I bet it's already old news."

Stiles abruptly stood, Derek jerking his hand back in surprise. Snatching the remote off the nearby side table, Stiles turned on the flat screen TV on the wall, clicking through the channels until he reached channel four.

Four older women were sitting at a table, an even larger copy of the picture displayed on a screen behind them, Derek and Stiles' smiles beaming back at them almost mockingly. The women were discussing how long Derek and Stiles had been married for, speculating over whether or not they had gone on a honeymoon yet.

Stiles changed the TV to channel five where the two hosts of a talk show were chattering away, this time just a picture of Stiles on display. They were discussing his career as a celebrity business manager, mentioning Scott's filmography and whether or not he attended the wedding.

The next five channels Stiles turned to consisted of much of the same, all of the stations simply accepting their rumored clandestine marriage as a fact based on one picture. Some of the shows featuring former costars of Derek who were more than happy to allude to a secret romance just for fifteen minutes more of fame.

Tossing the remote onto the chair he had vacated, Stiles crossed his arms again and wondered aloud, "What were you saying?"

Derek grabbed the remote and shut the TV off with a heavy sigh, gesturing for Stiles to sit back down. Stiles did, his frown still firmly in place as he let out another irritated huff.

"I'll have Peter set up an interview and I'll explain the whole thing, okay?" Derek suggested, curling his arm around Stiles' shoulders and pulling him a little closer, a natural toucher. And as nice as it was to have the comforting warmth of Derek against him, his arm wrapped around him tightly, Stiles jerked his head back.

"But, Derek, isn't ring a big plot point?" Stiles questioned, well aware of the fact that one of the most crucial scenes involved the main character finally putting his wedding ring back on after finally accepting that he is worthy enough to wear it after his wife's death. Both the producers and the director had sworn the entire cast and crew to secrecy, not wanting the climax of the movie to be spoiled. "You can't spoil it!"

"Then I won't," Derek said with a shrug. "I'll just say it was a joke and come up with a different reason for the rings."

"You say that like it's the easiest thing in the world," Stiles sighed almost wistfully, relaxing into Derek's arms. Resting his head on Derek's shoulder, Stiles tossed his arm around Derek's waist, scooting closer.

"It is," Derek announced easily, running his hand down the length of Stiles' arm to his hand, threading their fingers together as he pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles' head. Smiling contentedly, he leaned back against the plush cushions of the couch, running his thumb over Stiles' as he murmured, "Can't let anyone think I'm already married to my boyfriend. That'd spoil my proposal."

Three years later when Derek and Stiles actually got married, it made all the headlines again.

Drabble prompts!

[ember-hinote]

Life Development

It’s been a couple months since then but I can say that I am out of a toxic relationship. But here’s the thing, I was the last person to know. 

Amongst my friends and family, it’s usually said that I have the best observation skills. I don’t take bullshit from anything or anyone. If they need to know anything about someone or something, they bring it to me (or my mother) to look at. I can pick out so many details both superficially and incredibly personal about a person from looking at them and get them to spill more with a short conversation. 

To clarify, this was not a romantic relationship. This person was someone who I would consider a best friend and someone that my parents trusted as well. A thing about my parents: They don’t trust anyone easily. My mother is a former judge and lawyer and my father is an engineer. They both came from military families and were taught to take things as grains of salt. So for them to trust anyone of my friends is a really, really big deal. 

I met her 3 years back in Japanese Culture and Politics class and it began as a screaming match across the classroom over who was more right when our professor (who I am not the assistant of) posed a question. Being the type of people we are, we decided to stick together after the first test grades (tying of top spots) due to our shared interests in Japan and poutine. We hung out, we studied together, wrote stories with her as my beta reader, and went on school trips together. When we became graduate teaching assistants at the university, we made sure that we would share an office together! 

But things changed. She started dating this relatively descent gentleman who looked clean to me. He struck me as a bit odd but then, who was I to judge. She was describing him to me and the first thing that caught my attention was his lack of a college degree. I know. I shouldn’t judge on that but take into account that I am of Asian descent. Education is VERY important to us. She had a college degree (graduate a semester before me) and he didn’t complete his. He wasn’t doing anything and being the person that I am, I was a little concerned. She told me to not worry about it and that his parents were loaded. 

Yeah. As if that would settle me. Something that I’ve observed concerning White American families vs Asian families, the standards are very different. Just because his parents had money doesn’t mean that he had money. 

But seeing that she was happy, I let it go. It was nice to see her happy as she was my best friend. 

They were an interesting pair. Very clingy. Very dependent of each other. The thing is, she was a very independent person. Why was she so dependent on this person she just met? But no matter, she was happy and I was happy for her. She never stopped me from my failed attempts at romantic pursuits (all of which ended mutually). 

What set me off was when she started becoming increasingly demanding on me. I didn’t mind at first but her demands grew more and more insistent as well as most costly. Now I can honestly say, I am fortunate enough to never have been without and my parents have taught me for as long as I can remember how to manage finances so that I would always be ready for the worst. It has taken me many years to learn that many people were not as fortunate to have such lesson (trust me! My first years at university were definitely something because I did not know my privilege). But when they started biting more and more into my budget, I was no longer fine or comfortable with the situation. When I tried to speak out, things were fine for maybe a day or so before they went right back. 

Like I have NO PROBLEM taking my friends to nice places and introducing them to the things and places that I have grown up in but lines were starting to be overstepped. I was the friend with a car and could afford the special campus parking passes so there would always be a spot if I left campus for a quick trip. She started demanding trips to farther and farther locations from campus, most of them about equidistant to my house from campus and I don’t live close by. I stopped being comfortable with that real fast because gas is expensive and so is car maintenance and guess who would have to foot that bill.

Me and my family. 

But the problem wasn’t only fiscal, it was also emotional. She could always come to me for emotional support. The same couldn’t be said when I needed it which was far rarer. When my grandfather figure died in November, I was a mess and when I needed someone she turned me away. When my car was broken into and so much of my stuff was stolen in January, she turned me away when I needed someone. But whenever she was having a bad mental health day or just needed emotional support, guess who she turned too. There were days where it seemed that the world was crashing down around me but she would call and quickly begin talking about her problems and her life while I would have to quickly bury my own and deal with it alone later. Another friend of mine has gotten on to me about me not sharing my own feelings but for the most part it feels like most of my feelings are rather trivial and I could deal with them later. But when I need someone, I REALLY NEED SOMEONE. Luckily I had my other best friend to turn to and she was very supportive during those times. But there was a day where she apparent disassociated - this was following my grandfather’s funeral so I was emotionally DONE - and her boyfriend was with her and told me to keep an eye on her that day before I could even say “Hello.”

I never felt more insulted. I am not her care taker and I am in no condition myself to look after anyone. So I didn’t say anything back but did so anyways. Then her boyfriend started ordering me around and when I tried to fight back, she would come for me. That was a sign to me where our friendship stood. 

Then in June, we were in a History of Rock N Roll class where we chose to do the final project in a group with our other officemate who was starting to become a good friend of mine. The officemate could meet me step by step for ambition and desire to succeed where it would always seem that my “best friend” had to be dragged up to meet me. We were planning to go idea scouting a store that all of us were familiar with that was about 5 minutes from my house. The thing was deciding a day when we would me. I would have preferred to meet in the evening sometime during the week because I work on the weekends and that money goes into financing my education as well as anything else I needed for school or recreation. But since she just COULDN’T compromise, we decided to meet up on a Saturday which meant I had to take the day off. I know I was and probably still am the most financially sound of the three of us but I take great pride that I have not had to ask my parents for financial help since my first semester of university. 

So on that Saturday, I was getting ready for the day when my dad comes into my room and asks who I will be meeting up with and jokingly brings up my “best friend”’s boyfriend. I respond with how they were joined at the hip and he would probably be there. My father was not happy with that asking why my “best friend” would waste her time one someone who lacked the same ambitions as she did and I responded with “unfortunately, she does not have our standards.” Harsh, I know but if there is anything is my family, it is that we are very honest with each other. That and we have RIDICULOUSLY high standards.

The store was only 5 minutes away from my house but I decided to go about things the long way, take my time getting there because why not? I had the time. I left my house half an hour early to go fill up my car and get something to drink while I waited for them. So I ended up spending about twenty minutes at the gas station airing up my tires as well as just browsing their beverage section for the newest sparkling waters which left a 5 to 6 minute drive to the store. But when I got back to my car, I got a text from my officemate asking if I’ve heard from my best friend. I immediately go check my messages because hey, their location was half an hour from the store and there was ten minutes until we were meeting. There was nothing from her and texted that to my officemate who was suppose to pick her up. 

I was waiting in the store’s parking lot for nearly an hour before they finally showed up. At that point I was feeling VERY insulted. I took of work that day just to do this so the cost benefit analysis was not going very well for me. Then when she goes on to explain that the reason why she was late was because she was getting laid just irritated me beyond I thought I was capable of. I ended up going out for takoyaki and tea with my younger brother just so that I could vent to someone. 

Getting laid is a fucking choice. It is an active choice. She fucking chose to be late!

Now some of you might be going “Hey Emi, what if she wasn’t sure what time you all were meeting up?” I had texted the group multiple times during the week and the night before to clarify what time we were meeting up. SHE HAD AT LEAST 15 DIFFERENT MESSAGES OF WHAT TIME WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET UP! 

Now some of you are probably like “Emi, isn’t this a bit harsh for someone who is late?”

This chick has known me for three years. The past three years I have kept the same exact work schedule. She knows that I hate doing things on the weekend because I hate taking off work except for my once a year vacation. My bosses all know that I don’t ask for time off often if at all. She knows that people come to me if they want financial advice and that I can balance a checkbook like NOBODY’S business so I know cost benefit analysis almost better than anyone in our department does despite being probably the youngest member. 

THIS CHICK FUCKING KNEW!

Then comes when we were working on our actual project, my officemate and I were working in the department copy room with the office assistant there to keep us company. We both had our parts up and were waiting for her to submit hers but it wasn’t happening. We were stressing out because we thought this was a going to be a group grade. So the department chair comes in (who is also one of the instructors for the class and the one grading us graduate students) and asks us what’s up and if everything is going alright. We tell him and he’s frowning because “best friend” is his graduate assistant and she’s been slacking in his class. He immediately goes into saying that he’s not worried about us because he knows our work but he goes on to explain that our grades will be based on our own sections of the presentation. That was a massive relief to us.

So presentations were supposed to take a maximum of 15 minutes, most of the people in our class took about 30 to 40 minutes. Since we were the last ones to present, we had the least amount of time. Before we started “best friend” asked if I could cut my presentation time down a bit because she wanted to talk a lot about her section. I did not think much of it so I agreed. Officemate ended up taking more time than we budgeted so I accounted for that when I was going through my presentation as well as “best friend’s” comment. As a result I did a speed run of mine so that “best friend” could have more time. It turns out her portion had nothing do to with what we were presenting on and she only took up TWO MINUTES! I was insulted.

To further rub salt in the wounds, her grade was only 5 points lower than mine was. Luckily I still got an A overall in the class or department chair would have me at his office door demanding an explanation. But yeah, it fucking hurt and I decided I was done. I couldn’t take this anymore. I needed to get out of this. 

But because my reputation was so tied to our friendship, it took a nosedive. I was a double major who they didn’t know well as an undergrad while she was one of their own. When I started to distance myself from her, people still associated her lack of a work effort as well as her overly negative attitude of things with me because they didn’t know me that well. It took the efforts of the department chair as well as the professor I am assisting and my thesis chair to help clear my name of her actions but I am still treading on eggshells for the upcoming fall semester. 

Upon talking to the office assistant recently, I have learned that others had seen this relationship as toxic. My officemate who has become my new workout buddy also said that my friendship with “best friend” was toxic. There were professors that wouldn’t approach me because they saw how negative my former friend was and thought that I was the same way. The officemate told me that she told them that I was the exact opposite of my former friend. Sure I was very much of a realist but I was not overly negative and actually very dependable unlike my former friend. Apparently some of my former students who have recently graduated also came to the office assistant (who was a classmate of theirs) talking about how I seemed to be doing everything I possibly could for our friendship and that my former friend was doing nothing. 

I have had so many people approach me the past two weeks often saying that the reason why they didn’t approach me earlier was because of my former friend and that I was different from what they expected.

This hurt me more than I want to admit. To know that people expected me to be like my former friend hurt. I thought I had worked hard enough throughout the past year to establish my own identity in the department but apparently it wasn’t enough. 

I am happy to be out of that relationship and I can tell you that I have much more energy now. I never knew that she was such a massive drain on my energy until recently.  But I am in a much better place now. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all can learn from my mistakes. 

- Emi

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama + HashiramaMito Word count: 2456 Summary: Everyone in the world has two soulmates, platonic and romantic. Only your platonic soulmate can find your romantic soulmate for you. Hashirama should have known who Madara was the moment they met. Tobirama did know who Mito was as soon as they met. Everything would be so much easier if they were able to just say something about it to each other but since when does the universe like making things easy?

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI

Chapter 6: Of Movies and Mayhem

The smell of over-buttered popcorn and cinnamon assaulted his nose the moment Madara stepped in to the Senju brothers’ house, two scents that absolutely should never go together in his opinion. His face scrunched up with distaste as he let his sibling walk ahead of him towards the living room just in case that terrible mixture of smells heralded some kind of messy doom for the home’s inhabitants.

Luckily the cinnamon turned out to be nothing more than a few candles scattered around the place, small touches of Mito’s growing influence as she made herself more and more comfortable with her new partner. Hashirama sat in his favorite armchair with his cast propped up on a footstool, one arm around the woman tucked in to his side and the other buried in a massive bowl of popcorn which nearly spilled in his hurry to wave when he spotted the two newcomers.

“Everyone’s here now, Tobi!” he called, head craning to the side and projecting his voice down the hall. “Time to stop being antisocial!”

“I’m not anti-social!” Tobirama’s voice hollered back with great offence.

“He’s been writing up notes for some sort of research project he wants to do all day. I barely got him to come out for lunch.” Hashirama shook his head and Madara rolled his eyes. Personally he would have enjoyed living with someone independent enough to do their own thing instead of clinging to him for entertainment at all hours of the day but he wasn’t about to mention such a thing to his best friend. Hashirama was the clingiest person he had ever met; he definitely would not understand.

Tobirama looked tired when he stomped down the hall, scanning the living room for a place to sit. The only option available was the couch since his massive demon of a cat was napping in the other armchair and even Tobirama knew better than to disturb that creature’s sleep. As soon as he flopped down on one end of the couch Madara experienced a small panic attack.

He wanted to sit next to Tobirama but he also didn’t want to be obvious about it. What he needed was for Izuna to sit on the other end and leave him no other choices but to sit where he truly wanted to. Izuna, however, had made himself comfortable leaning over the back of the couch to bother Tobirama about something. Madara was all too aware that the longer he stood off to the side without moving the more suspicious he would look and he couldn’t help flashing his sibling a quick glare as he gingerly lowered himself on to the couch, sparing a sigh for the unwanted distance and then turning away before anyone could spot him.

“Alright! Who’s ready for movie night?” Hashirama grinned and struggled to rise until Mito gently pressed him back down in to his chair.

“Let me, dear.” He sent her a besotted look while she made her way to the DVD player and held up the small stack of options. “Does anyone have a preference?”

“No romance!” Izuna mock-shouted, cupping both hands around his mouth like a megaphone.

“Agreed,” Tobirama grumbled. “All of those belong to Hashirama and – brother I do love you but you’ve got terrible taste in romance. So mushy.” He shuddered as though mushy romance were the most disgusting thing in the world. Madara would have been peripherally insulted if he didn’t agree on that stance. Emotions were for feeling and not for showing.

Mito rifled through the stack she was holding and lifted one out of the middle. “Action movie it is, then.”

Izuna clambered over the back of the couch and slid down between the two men already there, ostentatiously leaning in to Tobirama’s side with a pointed leer towards Madara until Tobirama violently shoved him away.

“Does anyone want any popcorn?” Hashirama leaned over the arm of his chair as he asked, holding out the large bowl he’d been munching from on the off chance he could tempt someone else in to sharing his snack.

Madara saw the disaster almost before it happened, saw Hashirama tip his weight too far forward and begin to topple over. He watched with a muted sort of horror as the idiot let go of the bowl to catch himself, knocking his cast against the side of his chair with a loud thunk and a pained yell, then nearly every voice in the room cried out as the popcorn hit the floor. Little white balls of buttered goodness exploded in every direction, each creating their own little shiny stains as they rolled across the carpet.

“Brother!” Tobirama snarled, leaping up to grab a broom.

“It was an accident!” Hashirama shouted back, rubbing ineffectually at the outside of his cast. He pouted until Mito patted him affectionately on the top of his head.

“We’ll clean it up,” she assured him.

They could all hear Tobirama grumbling that Hashirama should clean up the messes he made himself, although it was clear he had no intentions of enforcing that. Whether he felt bad for making a man with a cast move around so much or if he was just too impatient to wait for Hashirama to fumble slowly through the cleanup, either way he was quick to roll all the bits of popcorn in to a dustpan and spray the carpet with some sort of cleaner to stop the grease from setting in.

“You might as well just start the movie,” he groused.

“We can wait until you’re finished,” Hashirama insisted. Tobirama glared at his sibling.

“Just start the damn thing. I’ll listen while I scrub the carpet.”

“Okay.” Hashirama wilted and curled in to Mito’s side when she slid back on to the arm of his chair, pouting against her shoulder but doing as suggested.

Seeing an opportunity, Izuna slumped over sideways in to the space left empty by Tobirama, stretching out to his legs to place his feet in his brother’s lap. Madara glared and shoved his feet away just as Tobirama has shoved him away before. He got a rude noise in return before they were both distracted by the sound of the opening credits.

By the time the carpet had been scrubbed well enough that there could be no fear of butter stains, Izuna had made himself plenty comfortable in the corner of the couch using the arm rest as a pillow, all curled up like a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons. Madara was shoving his feet away for the twelfth time when Tobirama finally returned. The younger man stood over both of them with folded arms and quite an impressive glare, obviously irritated to have lost his spot.

“Get up you lazy sod.”

“But I’m comfy,” Izuna whined. “Just sit on Madara or something.” Interestingly, Tobirama turned several shades of red before he was able to yell.

“I am not sitting on Madara’s lap! Move!”

With a roll of his eyes Izuna magnanimously curled his legs a little tighter to give the other man some room – only just enough that Tobirama would have to sit with his side firmly pressed up against Madara. And the moment Tobirama had gingerly settled himself down in the space given Izuna stretched his legs out across both of them again. Madara gave in to his violent urges and pinched the toe closest to him as hard as he could.

Tobirama cried out in pain when Izuna reflexively jerked his knee up in to the poor man’s chin.

Several minutes passed in a rapid flurry of events, all if it accompanied by Hashirama’s worried voice incessantly asking if Tobirama was really okay. Madara wasn’t entirely sure what had happened but when things finally settled Izuna had been relegated to sitting on the floor next to the demonic cat. Hashirama had wobbled his way over to the couch to check on his not-actually-injured baby brother. Mito, of course, had followed her soulmate and plastered herself back to his side again. Without any space to himself Madara was left with only the now-vacated armchair to sit in. He frowned, wondering how he had gotten so far away from the one person he wanted to sit next to.

He was slightly mollified by how poorly Tobirama was taking his brother’s worry, repeatedly trying to escape only to be pulled back down to have his chin inspected yet again. It had only been a light bump, more jarring than anything when his teeth clacked together, but one would think he was grievously injured from the fuss Hashirama was kicking up.

“I have no idea what’s going on in this movie,” Izuna grumbled, wincing just after when Hashirama whipped around to give him a hard stare.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t beaten up my little brother!”

“Anija, he hardly beat me up. It was an accident.”

“But Tobi!”

“Movie night was your idea,” Tobirama reminded him. “Maybe you should shut up so we can actually watch more than thirty seconds of whatever the hell is going on.” He groaned in exasperation when Hashirama stuck out his tongue like a child.

Cautiously, Madara spoke up from his spot across the room. “If he’s bothering you I don’t mind switching seats again.”

“I only just got comfortable.” As soon as Mito stuck out her bottom lip in a graceful pout it was obvious that they would not be going anywhere. Hashirama fell all over himself assuring her that she wouldn’t have to move unless she wanted to. Madara was too busy huffing with annoyance to notice that Tobirama was making the exact same expression.

“Whatever. I’m gonna…go get a drink.”

Heaving himself up out of the armchair, Madara retreated to the kitchen where he could sulk in relative privacy and not have to deal with Izuna’s knowing glances. Just for something to do he wandered over to the fridge and stuck his head inside to see if there was anything he might want. All he found was a bottle of orange juice and a carton of milk turned at such an angle he could clearly see that it expired two weeks ago. Whoever let two grown Senju men live on their own was either stupid or just wanted to see how long it would take before they killed themselves through sheer absentmindedness.

Not particularly a fan of orange juice, Madara stood up and wandered over to the pantry to see if there was any wine. He had only just closed his fingers around a rather nice bottle of red when he heard the door open again and turned at the sound of footsteps, ready to frown just in case it was Izuna come to make fun of him for running away.

It was not Izuna.

“Pour some for me too?” Tobirama asked, clearly in need of a little stress relief. Madara swallowed thickly. The man’s hair was even messier than usual and it gave him a stupidly distracting rumpled look.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the movie?”

“Ugh. Brother decided he wanted to snuggle. I think I escaped just before Mito was about to ask me to leave. As if I wasn’t sitting there first!” Stomping over towards the cupboards, he wrenched one open and Madara could hear him as he continued to mumble under his breath. “Was living here first too. She’s not his only soulmate. Just because she’s his romantic half. Ugh. I should get to hang out with my own brother without having to watch them suck on each other’s faces every five minutes.”

Madara hid inside the pantry for a few more moments until he was sure he wouldn’t burst out in a fit of unmanly giggles. He almost certainly was going to have a similar reaction when he eventually found Izuna’s romantic soulmate but that wasn’t going to stop him from laughing at Tobirama’s plight. Sympathy was for suckers. When the coast was clear and he was sure he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself Madara backed out of the pantry and marched over to cabinet where all the wine glasses were on display.

“You said you wanted some, right?”

“Please. I’m going to need it. Twenty bucks says if I look in to the living room right now I’ll see them making out all over the spot on the couch where I’m supposed to sit back down.”

Lifting one eyebrow like he’d just accepted his own challenge, Tobirama backed up towards the doorway and cracked the door open. Madara watched him with a lingering smile before fiddling with the cabinet. There was a trick to opening the stupid thing but he could never remember what it was. Should he pull to the left? Was he supposed to push up and then pull? Why didn’t Hashirama just buy a display cabinet that didn’t swell shut every time the seasons changed?

Ignoring his companion’s struggles, Tobirama peered through the door and scanned the living room, twisting his mouth in surprise when he noted that his brother was not actually anywhere near Mito. She wasn’t even in the room; probably gone to the bathroom or something. He made a quick mental note to add her to his shit list for whining about not wanting to get up and then doing so not even five minutes later. Even more surprising, Hashirama seemed to have forgiven Izuna his transgressions and was engaged in very excited conversation with the younger man. Tobirama figured it was only prudent that he turn a suspicious ear to their conversation, keeping one eye out for Madara to make sure he wouldn’t be interrupted.

“But if you know then why aren’t you helping!?” Hashirama was saying. Izuna’s voice cackled.

“It’s funny! Don’t be so uptight, they’ll get together eventually.”

“Haven’t they waited long enough? At this point they’ll never figure it out!”

Izuna huffed with impatience. “Oh for god’s sake they’re soulmates. Soulmates always find a way together. What, you think I would actually sabotage my brother’s chance for happiness? I’m not that big of a dick!”

Leaning forward to gently press the door shut again, Tobirama deliberately forced his lungs to draw another breath. It didn’t help. Shock rippled through him and weakened his knees, forcing him to keep his balance by leaning harder against the door, eyes locked on to Madara across the kitchen.

“Ha! OW!”

Tobirama watched with wide eyes as Madara finally managed to unstick the cupboard door only to have it jerk back and crash in to his forehead. With Izuna’s words playing over and over again in his mind he stared at the man dancing around his kitchen with both hands clapped to his hairline and thought, ‘That is the rest of my life right there.’