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war--lords · 3 years

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sorry i’ve been gone for so long i have a full-time job and other hobbies that i am deeply obsessed with... here have some fluff

Female pronouns for Reader

Fact one: In the past three days, Nobunaga can’t find you in the places you frequent around the castle, and at the end of the day, finds the tenshu empty. By dusk you are usually in his room, but these nights he finds you coming back after him. “Oh, just taking care of some stuff,” you would say.

Fact two: He misses you.

Perhaps it isn’t in his character to admit that so openly to you, what with his moniker being the “Devil King” and all, but he knows you know better—honesty has always been a key in your relationship, and it was the fact that he knew you were from 500 years in the future that drew him closer to you. Yes, he’ll tell you he misses you, but not before dealing out the proper punishment for failing to pay attention to him.

(Maybe he’s not being entirely honest after all, because he calls it punishment even when the both of you enjoy it. And as much as you’d squirm and reprimand him for teasing you so...)

Enough, he chides himself mentally. The lack of quality time with you has driven his mind to rely on fantasy, but that needs to change today. Today, he declares independence from the stack of paperwork on his desk and dedicates his working hours to looking for you—within the castle grounds or in town, if he must. He can already hear Hideyoshi scolding him at the back of his mind and scoffs.

As if that could stop him.

Nobunaga’s first stop is the hall where the seamstresses usually work.

“She left but moments ago, my lord,” says one of the elderly, working to get her thread in the eye of the needle. “To the kitchen, said she needed help to procure some food items.”

“Speaking of, she did the same yesterday. And the day before, if I remember correctly,” another seamstress chimes in. “And it’s around this time too.”

“I wonder if she’s also helping out there. Our lady has always been so eager to assist!”

Thanking the ladies for the information, Nobunaga exits the hall to make his way to the kitchen, leaving the staff giggling and cooing at how sweet the two of them are together.

At an hour so close to lunch, the castle kitchen is teeming with life. Nobunaga’s face is hit with the aromatic smells of various dishes—it seems they’re about to be served mushroom and meat stew, a season-appropriate dish—as well as smoke and the sounds of commanding voices and hurried footsteps carrying the orders out. A cooking battlefield.

Blue enters his peripheral and he turns to look at a corner. Masamune is taste-testing something out of an iron pot simmering atop a fire, offering some of his comments to the chef standing next to him before sprinkling in some other ingredients into the pot.

“Lord Nobunaga,” Masamune says, grinning at the Oda patriarch’s approach. The chef standing next to him looks surprised at the very least, echoing the greeting with a deep bow. Masamune swiftly swipes a sample of the brewing broth of a wooden spoon and offers it to him with a “careful, it’s hot”.

Nobunaga holds the spoon in his hand and sips, nodding his approval. “I was told I could find ___________ here.”

“The lass? Right, she was here.”

Nobunaga clicks his tongue at the use of past tense.

“Was she helping out with lunch preparations?”

Masamune shakes his head, adding what seems to be a pinch more salt into the pot. “Asked for some leftovers, actually—last night’s steamed fish. Put it in a neat little box and was gone as quickly as she arrived.”

“She asked for her food to be packed, as well.” The chef next to Masamune supplies.

Was she going somewhere? Nobunaga muses, deep in thought. His lover might be perplexing, but sharp as he is, he has some sort of clue as to what is happening.

“I see. Did anyone see which way she was heading?”

Another young man chopping up some scallions in his work station put his knife down and pointed to the right of the kitchen entrance. “To the garden thereabouts, perhaps, my lord,” he answers, before he dutifully goes back to his job.

“Thank you. In that case I shall have my food to go as well.”

“Right away, my lord!”

Masamune chuckles. “Didn’t know you guys like playing cat and mouse.”

Something clicks in Nobunaga’s mind. That had to be it.

“Yes, well, I didn’t know either,” comes his offhanded response, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

When he finally finds you, you are sitting under a maple tree in the freshly trimmed garden, the red of autumn forming a beautiful canopy above you. He sees a lacquered lunchbox in your hand, and in front of you, just at arm’s length, is another box...

...being devoured wholeheartedly by three kittens of varying coats.

“There you are,” he says as he approaches. You look startled for a split second, perhaps associating the gardens with a place that nobody ever frequents, before the expression melts into the very smile he’s smitten with.

“Nobunaga!” You look pleased with a tinge of confusion. “How rare of you to dine outside.”

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” he confesses as he sits down next to you, not minding the grass on his kimono and haori, “and upon finding out that you’ve decided to eat out, I decided to join you.”

“I’m sorry, did you come look for me in the kitchen?”

“And the seamstresses’ hall before that.”

You look extremely apologetic he almost feels bad. He leans forward. You get the message and peck him on the lips.

“Sorry.”

“One more, and then you’re forgiven.”

“Mm, okay,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss, your lunchbox forgotten despite holding it in your hands. This one lasts longer, what with your lover’s hand at the back of your head, ordering you to stay, and when he swipes his tongue on your bottom lip you feel the beginnings of a moan bubbling at the top of your throat—oh, you’re in public—

He’s the first to pull away, a devious smirk on his face. “Your food will grow cold.”

Pouting, you begrudgingly start eating again.

“So this is where you’ve been the past few days?” He asks, unraveling the cloth that wraps his food container while staring at three fuzzy rumps an arm’s length away. The kittens, all of which are variants of white, orange, and black, look ravenous, not even caring that another person has entered the vicinity. He spots the remnants of steamed fish in the box.

“Yes,” you answer, all smiles as you look at the kittens, and then once more that expression morphs into a realization that you’ve been spending less time with him, which perfectly explains him seeking you out. “Oh, Nobu, I didn’t mean to.”

He begins eating his meal. “You could have told me.”

“Well, yes, but I felt like that would’ve finalized my attachment to them,” you say, finishing your meal (you started earlier, after all). “I’ve been watching them and waiting for their mother to perhaps come back, but it’s been three days...”

One of the kittens, the one with orange and black on the tips of its ears, comes hobbling at you with little legs, meowing in thanks. Your smile turns to a chuckle when it climbs into your lap, insistently pawing and leaning its head into your palm when you reach to pet it.

He watches as you pet it gently, the kitten seemingly wanting more scratches and strokes each time that you have to concede. A wry smile takes over his face as he continues with his meal. “Perhaps its mother left them here knowing they will be well cared for.”

You blink in surprise. “Nobunaga, are you saying we can—”

“No.”

“Why?” you whine.

“I’m smart enough not to invite any competition for your attention within my quarters.”

Understanding dawns upon you and you find your arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck repeatedly so as to not disturb his meal. The poor man... getting jealous over some kittens because you’ve been looking after them for the last few days. When you’ve administered the last kiss on his throat, hoping to appease him, you look up to see his eyes boring into yours, a planning smile on his face. You catch on, and smile back, hoping to look at least half as alluring as he.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Good,” he replies curtly. “When that happens... I’ll make sure it’ll be impossible for you to think about anything else.”

The incessant meowing, cute as they are, dissolves the sexual tension between the two of you, as another kitten makes its way bravely on top of Nobunaga’s calf, its beady eyes making it look like it’s pleading. Good sir? Have you come to feed us, too?

You see a softness in Nobunaga’s eyes that indicates he’s finally understood what you felt. The man uses his chopsticks to fish out a piece of meat and hovers it right in front of the kitten’s face, allowing the tiny feline to snatch it out of the utensil’s grasp and straight into its mouth.

“The staff will be informed of these little ones and help take care of them,” he declares, “of course you are free to do so as well.” Just don’t neglect me again, you can hear that last unspoken bit through the way he gazes at you. You smile at him gratefully and sigh, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. When else do you get to see Nobunaga acting all soft and playing with kittens?

Leaning forward again, you kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

He brushes your lip with his thumb and you suppress a shiver down your spine—now is hardly the time to think of that. You lean your head on his shoulder.

“Shall we name them?”

(Haguro flies in the scene five minutes later, scaring the kittens initially, but it’s clear that much like his owner, he’s just jealous and wants some pets.)

#nobunaga #oda nobunaga #nobunaga x reader #ikemen sengoku #reader insert #scenario #imagine #imagines #ikesen #cybird #fluff #female reader #fem reader

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moonb-eam · 4 years

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We're all still reeling from saying goodbye, so let's try to focus on something more positive. What are your ten (or more if you want) headcanons for Elu's future?

oh this is sweet 🧡🧡🧡🧡

(I’m so sorry this took so long to answer!! It wound up being longer than I thought it was going to be 😳)

These are a few things I think happen over the coming years:

i. They learn how to communicate. It takes time, and some days their communication dissolves into arguments and some days it endlessly circles, but then, there are days when one of them comes home late and the other says, alright, I’ll make you some tea. There are days where one of them walks in to see the other crying and they say, will you tell me what’s wrong? There are days where they sit together on the sofa, legs entangled, and they talk for hours, about everything from their dreams the night before, to the deepest corners of their hearts. There are days where only a glance is needed for them to understand each other. But it’s work. It’s work, and it’s as messy as it is wonderful, and they keep trying.

ii. They get a pet together. Maybe a cat, or maybe a dog, or maybe even a bunny - but they go to a shelter together, and they leave with a little furry friend. The buy a specific bed for it, but of course it never sleeps there. At any given moment, when Lucas or Eliott are wandering through the apartment, checking underneath the sofa or behind the curtains, their little friend is actually curled between their pillows on the bed, warm and content in the space that smells like its two favourite humans.

iii. They establish small traditions together: Friday night is movie night; Sunday afternoon is when they clean; they cook for each other on their birthdays; they sleep on the balcony together on the first long summer night of the year; they take turns hiding mistletoe around the apartment in the weeks leading up to Christmas. They also establish some things that aren’t traditions, really, but just routines. Patterns. Whoever wakes up first has to make coffee and water the plants (usually it’s Lucas); whoever goes to sleep last has to turn off all of the lights and empty the dish rack (usually it’s Eliott); whenever they wash their sheets they wind up making a fort in the living room; whenever Eliott is out late at an urbex party or at work, Lucas will leave some dinner in the fridge for him, and a small note - the note may say something like, don’t make any noise, I have an exam, or something like, wake me up when you get home, I’ve missed you, and one time, memorably, you’re so hot xoxo. And you’ve probably guessed it. Eliott keeps every single note.

iv. The entrance to their apartment becomes known as a veritable revolving door of chaos. At any given movement, there is someone bursting in, either in celebration or distress, sometimes alone, sometimes with the rest of the circus right on their heels. People are also known to stay the night: sleeping on the couch, in the armchair, even on the floor on top of a pile of blankets. Lucas often complains, says that the whole point of him and Eliott moving in together was to have privacy, but Eliott doesn’t buy it. He sees the quirk of Lucas’ mouth whenever a knock comes to their door, sees how he paces around the kitchen until eventually he gives in and starts making a pot of coffee, and produces a semi-stale bag of croissants from seemingly out of nowhere, heating them in the oven and passing them out along the table. When Lucas catches Eliott staring, he just blushes, smiles, and shrugs.

v. They wear each others’ clothes all the time. There’s a drawer in their bedroom that is filled with nondescript t-shirts that have become so mixed up they can’t discern which belonged to who in the first place.

vi. When Eliott shows Lux and Obscurus to his film class, everyone is surprised. They had no idea what to expect from this coursemate who they only know as someone who is a little quiet, a little awkward, and they’re impressed by it - by the film, by the fact that Eliott was able to produce it with an amateur crew, and soon everyone is asking Eliott what his next project will be, and students from the other courses are asking him if he needs a production designer, a camera operator, a sound technician. Eliott comes home from class one day with a troupe of people following him who Lucas has never seen before, and when Eliott introduces him as, my boyfriend Lucas, there’s a collective gasp. The muse, one of them says, and the look of pure confusion that Lucas sends Eliott makes him burst into laughter.

vii. On Lucas’ first day of university, Eliott wakes up early and packs him a lunch, presenting it proudly to Lucas when he stumbles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed. It’s unbelievably sweet, and Lucas tells Eliott this, kissing him on the cheek in thanks, but he regrets those words later that day, when, sitting on a bench on campus, he opens up the lunch to find a sandwich with ham, Brie cheese, mustard, and strawberry jam. (What he doesn’t admit is that somehow, it actually tastes really good.)

viii. The first time Lucas’ mom comes over for dinner, Eliott gets so nervous that he manages to burn ready-made pasta sauce, and Lucas gleefully recounts the story to his mom when she arrives. Eliott is laughing along with them, bashful, a little embarrassed, but Lucas’ mom smiles, pats him on the shoulder and says, there’s no need to worry, darling. With the way he talks about you, I feel as though you’re already my son-in-law. Eliott grins, pleased, and it’s Lucas then who blushes, sending his mom a pointed look that she returns with a satisfied smile.

ix. Eliott refuses to drop it, is the thing. Remember when your mom called me her son-in-law? So of course, Lucas turns it around on him, a joke that he pulls out whenever Eliott turns down an offer to join him on a night out, or on another trip to Basile’s grandfather’s. Oh that’s too bad, Eliott, he says. I was going to propose to you. Eliott tries to one-up him, naturally, and it turns into this - them keeping score for a game nobody else understands, with Eliott pretending to stumble onto one knee and asking Lucas if he will do him the honour of helping him up, and Lucas presenting a small, velvet box to Eliott at his graduation dinner, and Eliott opening it to find a condom. No one understand it, but they accept it. Just another quirk that makes them Lucas and Eliott. Well, everyone except Basile, who, when he learns that they’re not actually engaged while at Eliott’s birthday party, drunkenly bursts into tears.

x. When it does actually happen, though, it happens like this: with a date at a familiar spot, a bottle of champagne opened and emptied, with Lucas procuring another small box, and solemnly promising that it’s not a condom this time, and Eliott is laughing because his boyfriend, his fiancé, is a bit of an idiot, but he’s Eliott’s idiot, and Eliott loves him so much he can’t breathe, can’t speak when Lucas slides a ring onto his finger. They kiss, and they’re both crying, salty tears down rounded cheeks that mix with something else, something cold, and they realize at the same time that it’s starting to rain, big fat drops that land in their eyes and soak their hair and they both laugh in delighted wonder, tilting their heads back to watch they sky together.

#asks #anon #i only saw you #could be filed under #fic tag #elu #skam france #i was working on this while also starting my misn epilogue #so clearly i have elu marriage on the brain #this is why i shouldn't be allowed to watch wedding reality shows on netflix

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anogete · 4 years

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In Between

Hi, folks. I’m sorry I have nothing to offer as far as fic goes. Things have been... ::sigh:: You know, I don’t know what things have been. Not good, not bad. Just... things. I wanted to talk--get things out of my head--this morning, but I realized I don’t have a person/outlet who can accept these things right now. So, I will put them here for anyone who cares to read them.

1) My car blew up. Well, the engine did. I was on my way back home with groceries last Saturday, and I lost all ability to accelerate and brake. So, I puttered out on the side of the road and waited to be saved. The issue may be covered under the warranty so I had it taken to the dealership. They’ve had it for a week and still don’t have answers for me besides an offer to lend me a car for free until they can figure out what to do with my car.

2) This deserves it’s own point, though I almost included it on the first point. I’ve never bought a car without my grandmother. She was under five feet tall and had a tendency to wear sweat pants and Christmas sweaters year-round. She smoked Winston Lights and carried a purse covered in rhinestones. The car salesmen didn’t know what hit them because she wasn’t at all the sweet old lady who would roll over and accept their first offer. She was hard to read and she wouldn’t give an inch. She also wouldn’t tell them what she was willing to pay. No counter offers from her; she’d just tell you to “do better.” Anyway, she worked her magic when I bought all three of my cars. When I realized the problem with the engine was serious and might require me getting a new car, I went into a mental tailspin. Yeah, yeah, I was worried about fitting it into my budget and all that, but mostly I couldn’t seem to cope with buying a car on my own without my grandma there to hold my hand. I’m almost 39 years old and the thought of doing this without her had me sobbing in the floor. Except, I didn’t realize my tailspin was due to my grandmother at first. At first, I just thought I was incapable of handling stress. Maybe that’s still accurate.

3) While we’re talking about expensive-ass shit, I knew the air conditioner and furnace on this house needed to be replaced sooner rather than later when I bought it last February. It looks like the time has come. I managed to find a nice man with very odd hair (think a longer version of the Prince Valiant hair-do, but bright white) through my boyfriend’s dad. He does this for a living and said he’d give me a discount and do for $5,000 what other places were telling me would cost $9,000. So, that’s happening next week. I have the money, but the idea of writing a $5,000 check makes me want to puke. Ugh.

4) The days are running together. I’m working from home. I can’t complain, though. I’ve got it better than most. I’m alone all day. I have a library with a desk. I can go downstairs and make tea or lunch in my own kitchen. I’m getting paid my full salary with bonuses. I can pretty much make my own hours. The company I work for is taking the pandemic seriously and has told us that we can all work from home until we feel comfortable returning to the office. Their timeline for “normal” is months. I don’t think I’ll be back in the office until late summer, if that. Those who want to return are permitted to, but they can’t use the public areas (kitchen, conference rooms) and have to abide by some strict safety requirements. And they can choose when and how often they go into the office, working the remainder of the time at home. So, better than most.

5) I’ve been doing this social distancing thing since March 19th. It’s not difficult for me. On good days I’ll exercise (I have a Peloton) before logging into work around 9am. On not-good days (which seem to be more often than not), I’ll skip the exercise and just log into work early. Work keeps me busy and I spend a decent amount of my day on the phone with clients. I go to the grocery store once a week, but I order for pickup. Someone else does the shopping for me and loads it into my trunk. This is nothing new. I’ve been shopping that way for years. Now it’s just harder to get my usual pickup slot because everyone else has joined the party. I do miss taking a break from work and leaving my office to grab a coffee and sit outside on a bench downtown. I guess I could do that outside my own house, but it just doesn’t feel the same.

6) A few months ago, a husband and wife who are clients came in to meet with me at my office. They’re in their 80s and both were having trouble walking. They parked in the garage next door and couldn’t find the elevator to exit. I walked over and escorted them to our office building. They were both struggling with walking and the wife (Rose) had been fighting lung cancer for a couple years, so I suggested they wait outside and I’d valet their car once we were done. The thought of making the trek to their car alone was painful to me because it was a monumental struggle for them to walk down a hallway. Their daughter-in-law called me two days ago. Rose passed away two weeks ago. The husband, a former literature professor for a university, was in the hospital with four broken ribs because he’d fallen shortly after Rose’s passing. He was a Jewish child in Nazi Germany during the war. He’d told me stories about hiding from the Nazis, surviving off of tree bark and whatever he could find in the forests. He also jokingly told me that he’d live until he was 120. Now, it looks like he won’t survive the year. He and Rose would tease each other all the time, but you could see all that love between them. Whenever I’d call him, he’d ask me in that wonderful accent to wait while he got “the boss” on the phone as well. Rose thought it was silly that she was “the boss,” but she humored him. You know, they’re shorties, too. Five foot, nothing. Just like my grandma. Hearing that Rose was gone and Dr. (he’s a PhD) was likely soon to follow just broke my already fragile heart.

7) Fragile heart, huh? Yeah. After the car situation and the realization that one day I’m going to have to do big life things without having my grandma to help me, I was feeling pretty raw. But I’ve been trying to be responsible and do things I’ve been putting off lately. So, I gathered up all those medical bills from Ferguson’s illness last September. (Ferguson was my soulmate little chihuahua mix that I had for over 13 years.) I had pet insurance on him and hadn’t bothered to make the claim because I couldn’t handle it. But it’s been almost a year so I pulled out the invoices, which were over $2,000, and logged into the website and starting inputting the info to file the claims. The little box asks for a description of why I took him to the vet. And answering that question just brought back all that shit like a wave. I remember reading this nice description of grief and how it is like waves. At first they’re big and they knock you around and you can’t breathe. But over time they get smaller and you learn how to navigate them. Still there, but manageable. Filling in that box resulted in a bit of a tidal wave that knocked me on my ass. My boyfriend came home to find me sobbing at my desk like a lunatic.. He’s... not so good with emotional shit. And I usually keep it bottled up so that no one knows what’s going on inside me. But some days... Some days it just overflows. So, after confirming that nothing terrible had occurred and that I was reliving September 2019, he slowly backed out of the room to leave me with my grief-wave.

8) I want to be one of those succulent people. You know, the ones who have succulents lining their windowsills. The dining room and kitchen windows are full of this oddball little plants. The boyfriend hates it, but I told him he’d have to deal. I’ll die on this hill. I’m a succulent lady.

9) I’ve been reading memoirs or, rather, memoirs through collections of essays. I don’t know if it’s the mental state I’m in or if social distancing has got me subconsciously reaching out for life beyond my head, but I can’t seem to read much else. I loved Liz Phair’s Horror Stories. I’m reading The Book of Help by Megan Griswold right now. I’m determined to procure a signed copy of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young. He did a virtual event for a local bookseller recently and they have signed copies available for purchase. I just need to muster up the will to call them and ask them to hold one for me. The little snippets of their life and experiences via these memoirs through essays bring me some measure of comfort.

10) I tried to watch Euphoria on HBO. I managed to make it through the first episode, but I don’t think I can watch more. I can’t relate, but that normally isn’t a necessity for an enjoyable story. Maybe it’s just too depressing for me right now.

11) I binged Dollface on Hulu and wish I had more to watch. Parts of it hit me hard. I’ve always had trouble maintaining friendships, period. But maintaining friendships while in a relationship has been damn near impossible for me. Just like Jules. Except, I’m not nearly as cool or gorgeous as Kat Dennings. And I have no friends in this city to go back to. Just friends at work.

12) I haven’t worn makeup for 2 solid months. I’m starting to miss it. I found old selfies I’d taken in which I don’t recognize myself. Did I ever look like that? I must have since here is photographic evidence. I look like shit now. I’m forever in yoga pants and a hoodie with half-wet hair from the shower. Maybe putting on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt and some makeup will make me feel like a human being again. Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought in quarantine. Huh.

13) I hope you all are well. If you’ve sent me a message, I’m so sorry for not responding. My mental state has been delicate lately and the silence from me has nothing to do with your kind words. I promise I read and treasure and appreciate anything that is sent to me. I’m also sorry for having no offering of fic or a promise of something to come. I haven’t written since last summer. It’s been almost a year. I guess I’m in a dry spell.

14) Since I’ve been struggling with loss/grief lately, I’ll leave you with a quote from Philip Pullman, taken from his novel The Amber Spyglass. It’s about death, I suppose. Or maybe just a transition to something else entirely. It’s nice to think of my grandma and Rose and my sweet, sweet love of a dog falling in the raindrops and riding on the wind through tall grass. If it wasn’t raining, I’d take my computer outside right now.

“Even if it means oblivion, friends, I'll welcome it, because it won't be nothing. We'll be alive again in a thousand blades of grass, and a million leaves; we'll be falling in the raindrops and blowing in the fresh breeze; we'll be glittering in the dew under the stars and the moon out there in the physical world, which is our true home and always was.”

#Anogete in real life #personal #coping with grief #Mental health where did you go #adulting #struggle bus

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snakeboistan · 4 years

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Love Is Beauty, Love Is Pure

Pairing: 3-E x Nagisa (platonically)

Nagisa’s chopsticks fell to the ground when his hand went limp in shock, his half-eaten piece of sushi rolling on the grass song with them, grains of rice scattering about as the seaweed unrolled. The boy himself was completely unaware that he had dropped his beloved lunchtime snack as he was too focused on not dying - what with the fact that he was choking on his bite of sashimi and rice. Everyone around him was looking over in shock and immediately began trying to help him: Maehara began banging his spine with his clenched fist as hard as possible, Sugino riffled through his schoolbag to procure a plastic bottle of water, and Okajima desperately asked him if he wanted him to do the Heimlich Maneuver (“Okajima, you don’t even know the Heimlich Maneuver,” Kataoka deadpanned). Once it was clear that he was done coughing, Sugino, who was gently caressing his back, offered him the uncapped water bottle. Blushing darkly at the scrutinising looks of concern from his classmates, he wordlessly took the bottle and took small sips of it, ducking his head so that his bangs obstructed his vision of everyone.

It started out normally enough: the students of Class 3-E were gathered around the steps on the side of the building, sitting either on them or on the grass, as they spent their lunch break digging into their bento boxes while sharing stories and laughter. Somehow, they were recounting their weekends and Sugino pitched in how he and Nagisa had met up and went to the park together and somehow ran into Seo Tomoya, Araki Teppei and Sakakibara Ren of Class A’s Five Virtuosos later on in the day.

“Oh god, not those a-holes,” Maehara groaned in sympathy.

Isogai winced, “they didn’t give you guys any trouble did they?”

“They better not have,” Karma narrowed his eyes and punched his palm, “I swear if they did anything…”

“What?! No no,” Nagisa held his hands out palms-forward and shook them in a placating gesture, “it’s fine really. They barely even touched us.”

Karma just hummed and continued sipping from his milk box.

“They were acting like complete douches though,” Sugino said, frowning, “you know the usual stuff: about how they were better than us and how us E-Class kids are worthless and they were going to crush us and humiliate us - all that jazz.”

“Jerks,” Okano muttered in disdain as she angrily used her chopsticks to pierce through her tamagoyaki - most probably pretending that she was stabbing a main campus student in the chest.

“So same old, same old, huh?” Kimura laughed with a sad smile.

“But that’s not all,” Sugino stated, “Araki began targeting Nagisa.”

“WHAT!�� Fuwa yelled.

“What did he do?” Karma scowled darkly, crushing his now finished milk carton in a hand.

“I swear Nagisa,” Fuwa looked at him with a passionate gaze as burning as a hundred blazing suns, “if those A Class neanderthals did anything I will avenge you.”

“You really don’t need to do that,” Nagisa said quickly.

“I’M GONNA ANYWAY!”

“What did he say?” Maehara asked.

Nagisa looked down and murmured, “just made some comments about my looks. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“Yeah and Ren was flirting with him which was weird,” Sugino scrunched his nose up in disgust, “he was all like “you know, if you were a girl - I wouldn’t mind helping you out.””

“Ugh, seriously,” Kataoka rolled her eyes, “as if any girl would want his help, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Nakamura nodded, “I don’t know about the main campus trash but I have standards.”

“Like what?” Karma asked innocently, “Tom Hiddleston?”

“Wh-How did you-” Nakamura turned red, “God. Shut Up!”

Sugino’s mouth started to curl upwards, “But you see Nagisa’s got more maturity in one hand than those three could ever dream of so he just stays quiet. So then Seo goes “come on Shiota, not going to say anything? Are you E-Class nobodies so dumb that you don’t even know how to speak correctly?” And Nagisa just smiles and says “well, no one plans a murder out loud” and walked right past him without looking back. Man, you should’ve seen the looks on their faces - I had to resist bursting out laughing then and there.”

Everyone just erupted into laughter and Nagisa was bombarded with words of praise as people gathered around him.

“Well done, Nagisa!” Okano punched him in the arm with a wink.

“Yeah, that’s Nagisa for you,” Yoshida smirked with crossed arms, “he may look cute and sweet but he sure knows how to shut someone up.”

“Serves them right,” Kurahashi nodded.

Nakamura grinned, “yeah, at least now they know not to mess with us.”

Maehara ruffled his hair and hooked an arm around the bluenette’s shoulders, “Super proud of you, dude. Like seriously, Nagisa, that’s why we love you.”

And that’s how Nagisa found himself choking on his handmade salmon sushi infront of his classmates.

“Umm, Nagisa?” Sugino asked, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he continued his ministrations on his best friend’s back, “what was that about? Are you alright?”

“Oh no-nothing,” Nagisa replied softly, his voice shaking, “I’m fine re-really. Just-just give me a second.”

“You are okay,” Isogai’s eyes raked his body in perturbation, “right Nagisa?”

“Yeah, it’s-it’s just what Maehara said that shocked me, is all. No one - no one’s ever said that to me like that,” Nagisa could feel his already red face get even hotter at his quiet admission.

Complete uncomfortable silence filled the area as everyone digested that information.

“What?” Kurahashi gasped, “no one’s ever told you that they love you.”

“Wha- no. I mean, my parents have told me that before but it’s just not as easily as Maehara did and well he said it so unprompted that it caught me off guard.”

And that’s the truth. His father isn’t around to tell him that he loves him and when he does, it’s always just a brief throwaway line, like it’s an afterthought to remind himself that Nagisa is his son and that’s what he’s supposed to say. He still remembers how around five years ago, he stood by the front door as his dad was about to leave, the hell-hole Nagisa called home being far too much for him. The older man only looked back to say “I love you but I can’t handle your mother anymore” and walked away without another word. Yeah, his father’s version of love was abandonment. His mother only says it when he’s down. She pets his hair and kisses his cheek with a sweet smile and purrs out “you know I’m only doing this because I love you, sweetheart”, “do you really think anyone else would love and care for you the way I do”, “You see, honey, you know I’m right - oh I love you so much”. For Maehara to just come out and say that all on his own and so happily and care-free just made no sense. Knowing how to read people is the one thing he’s good at yet Maehara’s body language is as illegible as the doctor’s note he got back in Elementary School - his words just didn’t match his actions and Nagisa was so confused.

Mimura raised an eyebrow, “You shouldn’t be prompted to say I love you to your child.”

Nagisa just shrugged and then had his breath knocked out of him when Yada came barreling forward and crushed his torso in a tight embrace, “Wha-”

“We love you, Nagisa,” Yada, tears streaming down her face, “we all love you so much.”

At Nagisa’s look of pure shock and confusion she just hugged him tighter.

No one’s ever said that to me like that

‘No one,’ Yada thought, ‘should ever look so shocked to hear that they’re loved.’

She was immediately joined by Kurahashi and Okano and Maehara and Kayano and Fuwa and somehow Nagisa found himself in the middle of a hugging pile made up of the majority of his classmates.

“It’s true,” Kurahashi beamed, although her eyes were gleaming with sadness, “we all really really love you.”

“How could we not?” Maehara asked, “you’re a pretty hard person to dislike.”

“You’re more than just a classmate to us, Nagisa,” Okano smiled, “you’re like a brother.”

“I-I am?” Nagisa said softly.

“YES!”

“Of course you are,” Kataoka nodded firmly.

“You didn’t know,” Sugino looked guilty, “surely - surely you must have known something.”

“Yeah, Nagisa,” Nakamura smiled fondly, “you’re our blueberry cinnamon roll. You think you’re not part of our weirdly dysfunctional family. Please, you’re already on the Christmas card.”

“Yeah,” Karma smirked, though he squirmed uncomfortably, “what they said.”

“I-I love you guys, too,” Nagisa gave all of them a small smile, wiping his eyes and feeling embarrassed when he finds wetness around them, “you guys are the brothers and sisters I’ve always wanted.”

To be honest, he supposes that in his head he always knew that the relationship he had with his classmates was something he could never pinpoint and even know having the truth displayed out in front of him still felt like a dream. He never understood what true love is, but sitting here, packed inside this mess of his friends like a sardine in a tin, he supposes that that warm feeling that was being emitted from his classmates that promised him comfort and protection and everything else he craved but never asked for, well, it must be something pretty close to that.

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winchester-purgatory · 3 years

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Giving back

Summary: Claire sign up to the Secret Santa program at the foster center she comes from

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Secret Santa

Pairing: Claire Novak x Kaia Nieves

Word Count: 1771

Warnings: None needed

Every year, for Christmas, Jody encouraged the girls to give back to the less fortunate. It could be volunteering, helping out at a food bank, wrapping presents for gifts for low-income households, spending time with elderlies who no longer have families at the local retirement home, etc.

This year, Alex chose to entertain the sick kids at the children hospital on the weekends while Claire gave her name to the local foster center and signed up to their Secret Santa program. Although the foster center hadn't helped her while she was there, she always found it difficult to watch the younger kids receive presents on Christmas day and see the older ones be forgotten and skipped on. Teenagers deserve presents too.

Kaia Nieves, the paper read.

According to the brief information sheet the office lady had given her, Kaia was orphaned since a young age and had traveled from foster families to foster families but never found the right one - or so they said. She arrived at Sioux Falls' foster center two months ago.

Claire frowned, having already reached the end of the notes. ''There's barely anything written. How do I know what to get her?''

The lady shrugged, not really caring. ''Would you like to pick a younger child? They're easier to shop for-''

''No,'' Claire cut. ‘’I’ll figure it out.’’ She grabbed the paper and left the foster center.

What to get someone you know almost nothing about or never seen for Christmas?

Claire had been racking her brain for ideas, but it wasn't so easy. She could go with an easy pick and get a blanket, knowing the ones procured by the foster center were shitty at keeping you warm, but that was too basic. Kaia deserved better. Claire wanted to give her something with more thoughts into it, something the foster care teenager would genuinely appreciate.

If only the foster center had been more helpful and asked the kids what they wanted for Christmas. She could pick one item from the list and she'd be done.

Grabbing her laptop, Claire decided to look her recipient up online. There were slim chances to find anything, having no access to wifi at the foster center, but it cost nothing to try.

As expected, there wasn't much. The first Kaia Nieves she managed to find was too old to be in foster care and the second one lived in another state, miles away far from Sioux Falls.

Claire let out a frustrated sigh, pushing her fringe out of her face.

The front door opened and Jody came home from work, bringing along a pizza box. ‘’I brought dinner!’’

‘’Pizza is your favorite. I thought you’d be more ecstatic…’’

‘’Yes, thanks for the pizza, Jody.’’

Jody put down the pizza box and glanced at Claire, sensing something was on her mind. ‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’Searching up my Secret Santa recipient online. So far, nothing came up.’’

The raven haired woman chuckled, removing her sheriff jacket and hanging it on the coat hanger. ‘’I doubt kids are on social media, honey.’’

‘’My recipient isn’t a kid. I picked someone my age. In foster care, Christmas is mainly for younger kids. We, older ones, are always skipped on and forgotten during Christmas and I wanted to make someone feel less alone and not invisible. I know how it feels to watch others receive dolls and hot wheels and not receive anything yourself.''

Jody smiled, proud of her daughter. ‘’That's very sweet of you. I knew there was a kind heart under that tough exterior.’’

''I'm still rebellious, I'm not gonna become soft. Don't worry. I'm still gonna get in trouble at school for talking back at teachers or skipping on Fridays.'' She pulled a mischievous grin and Jody rolled her eyes, expecting no less. ''If I can make one less kid feel alone this Christmas, I'll feel great.''

‘’I’ll see what I can do.’’

In January, a new girl arrived at school. She had dark, curly hair, brown skin and always wore the same grey hoodie. According to Alex, her name was Kaia.

‘’Do you think it’s her?’’ Claire asked her sister, blue eyes set on the new girl sitting alone a few tables from her.

The Secret Santas weren’t allowed to see pictures of their recipient so Claire had no idea what Kaia looked like. All she knew was that she was around her age and liked to draw.

Alex shrugged, taking a bite of her sandwich. ‘’It could be. Kaia isn’t a very popular name around here.’’

‘’Should I go talk to her? She doesn’t seem to have friends.’’

‘’She just got here two days ago. You didn't have friends either when you arrived here,’’ Alex pointed out.

‘’I didn't want friends, that’s the difference.’’

‘’You think she wants friends? She seems to keep to herself and enjoy her own company, but do whatever you want.''

''Should I tell her who I am? That I was her Secret Santa?''

''No. You'll make her uncomfortable.''

''I could offer to mentor her at school. Show her around and stuff. New students need mentors, right? You did it for me.''

''Because Jody asked me to,’’ Alex reminded her. ‘’And, you told me to fuck off before the first bell. How nice of you...’’

Claire grinned and stole a cookie from Alex’s lunch. She had some in her lunch box too, but it always tasted better when stolen from someone else’s.

The sisters spent the rest of the hours talking about chores exchanges and bargainings for the week. Alex wanted Claire to tell Jody she was sleeping over at Angela's so she could go to Chris' party this weekend and Claire didn't want to clean the bathroom. It could've been a simple bargain, but Alex refused to clean the bathroom, having done it the last two times.

''Ah, I guess you're gonna stay home this weekend,'' Claire teased her sister.

Alex glared. ''It's unfair. You know I would lie for you if the situation was reversed.''

''I don't need you to cover for me when I want to go to a party. I've mastered the art of lying and covering my tracks.''

The blonde's attention drifted as Kaia pulled out a set of coloring pencils from her backpack, resembling a lot to the ones Claire got for her Secret Santa recipient. It's her.

Those coloring pencils were the last push Claire needed to get up and walk up to the new girl’s table.

''Hey! We aren't finished. Where are you going-''

Claire ignored Alex and took a seat at Kaia’s table.

Kaia saw a shadow casted before her and raised an eyebrow, pausing her drawing. ''Can I help you?''

''Did you like your pencils?'' Claire asked boldly. Kaia gave her a confused look, waiting for the blonde to continue. ''I'm Claire.''

It didn't take the brunette long to put two and two together. She froze for a minute, a bit panicked. How did she know it was her? Was she going to bully her? Some kids weren’t nice to the ones who were in group homes.

Claire smiled and a weight was lifted off Kaia’s shoulder. ''How did you know I liked to draw?''

''A wild guess.'' The brunette gave her a look and Claire sighed, telling the truth. ''I may or may not have asked Jody to go to the foster center and ask about you...''

''So, you stalked me?''

''It was for a good cause!'' Claire explained, justifying herself. ‘’If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have received those cool pencil.’’

Kaia accepted the justification. ''You're forgiven. And, thank you, for the pencils.''

Claire smiled. ‘’Your welcome.’’ She looked down at the paper Kaia was drawing on, seeing a creature with horns and a creepy face. ''What are you drawing?''

''Last night's monster. I like to draw my dreams...more like nightmares. It's weird, I know-''

''I think it's cool. I can't draw for shit.''

‘’I can show you, if you want.’’

‘’What’s that?’’ Claire asked as Kaia’s backpack spilled and a red envelope had fallen out.

The girls had become very close friends during the following month and Kaia was now spending most of her time with Claire at her house. They’d have horror movie marathons and sleep over on the weekends, or do homeworks on weekdays.

Jody had rapidly grown fond of the brunette. She was happy to see Claire was making friends and had started loosing her moody attitude.

Kaia bent down and picked it up from the floor, bringing it on Claire’s bed. ‘’The letter I got from you,’’ she replied, biting back a smile and feeling her cheeks heat up.

‘’You kept it?’’ She seemed surprised, but also flattered.

Kaia hummed. ‘’Being at the foster center isn’t always a joy, as you know. Every time I felt down, I would read your letter. It gave me hope that one day, things will get better.’’

Hey, Kaia

My name is Claire and I’m 17. You’re wondering why a teenager signed up to this Secret Santa program. Well, I used to be in foster care at this very foster center. I’m not gonna brag about how happy I was while there, because it’s not the truth.

The truth is, my mom took off when I was eight and dropped me off at my grandma’s. I lived with her for a couple years, but she died from cancer. Wow. I’m off to a depressing start... I'm sorry. As for my father...he's away. I still see him sometimes, but his work schedule doesn't allow him to have me in his care.

When my grandma died, I was brought to the foster center by the child protection services and caused a lot of trouble. I met the wrong people and got arrested a couple times for shoplifting, trespassing and running away. I was very close to being transferred to a juvenile detention center when Jody, the local sheriff, was put in my path. She took me in, saying a home and a family was what I needed, not a stay in juvie.

What I want to say is, I don’t know anything about you or what you’ve been through, but I know some days are tough - and lonely. Watching the younger kids getting picked by families over you. You feel like no one will ever pick you, but, truth is, you never know. I used to think like that too, but Jody came and proved me wrong.

It’ll get better, one day. I promise.

xx Claire

‘’Did it? Get better?’’

A smile formed on Kaia’s lips and she looked up at Claire. ‘’Maybe…’’

#spnchristmasbingo #claire novak x kaia nieves #claire novak #kaia nieves

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

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Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Daffodils Bloom After Winter

Ao3

Chapter 7: Stubborn Weeds, Stalwart Bloom

The pad of Ayumi’s index finger tapped slowly against her pursed lips as she hunched over, peering thoughtfully into the glass display case. Her breath fogged slightly in front of her nose, partially eclipsing her view of the assortment of raw meats arranged on parchment paper. Beef or chicken? Beef… or chicken? she debated with a slight furrow of her eyebrows. She had a box of noodles that she’d meant to finish off for a few days, and she did buy some green onions on sale this morning, in addition to the other necessities she’d procured on her shopping trip. If I pick up some mushrooms, eggs, and other odds and ends, I can make some chicken tonkatsu ramen, she realized with a small smile.

“Excuse me! I’d like a pound of chicken breast, please!” she called out to the butcher, who had been chopping up prime rib while waiting for the teacher to make her selection. With a jovial smile and some friendly small talk, he wrapped up some white chicken breast in paper packaging, even throwing in a few extra ounces for “providing such a valuable service to the community.” After bowing graciously several times to him, hugging the chicken to her chest, she hurriedly scurried out of the store to buy the rest of the ingredients.

As she pushed the door open with her hip and carefully lowered the meat into her shopping bag, a small red ball came bouncing up. It slowed to a roll to nudge against the toes of her flats. Ayumi looked up to see Shikadai trotting up, holding a stick in one hand.

“Sorry, Miss Ayumi,” he apologized as he swooped down to retrieve the ball. He propped the stick on his shoulder as he straightened back up, eyebrows raised as he regarded her curiously. “Out shopping?”

“That’s right,” she said as she stepped out of the doorway so as not to inconvenience any other customers. She propped her shopping bag on the nearby windowsill to give her arms a break, smiling down at the boy as she stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders. Carrying around a sack of vegetables and meat puts an ache in your shoulders after a while. “Are you out with your father today?”

“Nah.” Pursing his lips distastefully, he began bouncing the rubber ball with the end of the stick. She could see that the bark was starting to wear smooth, evidence that this wasn’t an irregular occurrence. “Dad woke up in a bad mood today, so he’s moping at home. I don’t really like to be around him when he gets like that. I was playing with Chocho and Inojin, but they went home for lunch, so I’m out playing by myself.”

The little boy said it so casually that it broke Ayumi’s heart even more. Shikadai tapped the rubber ball with the stick repeatedly, bouncing it against the sandy village road with lidded eyes. What a sad existence to watch your friends be called home by loving mothers and fathers while you were left to fend for yourself as your one surviving parent battled crippling depression— and what a sadder existence still to understand that was happening but be unable to do anything about it. As he lowered the stick and caught the ball in mid-air, a loud gurgling rumbled from Shikadai’s tummy.

“Th-that wasn’t me,” he blurted as his cheeks flared pink. Ayumi smiled knowingly and crouched down eye-level with him, though he stubbornly turned his blue eyes away from her gaze.

“Shikadai, would you like to come to my house for lunch today?”

The corner of the boy’s mouth twitched as he tried to conceal his expression. However, as his stomach yowled insistently for nourishment, his blush darkened and crept up to his jagged hairline. His eyes slowly rolled to peek bashfully at Ayumi through thick lashes.

“Well, um… Those groceries look pretty heavy. I guess I could help you carry them home, and then you could make me lunch as payment…” Shikadai offered as he slowly turned up his nose. Ayumi had to giggle at his adorable effort to remain dignified.

“Deal,” she nodded and pushed on her thighs so she could stand back up. Shikadai tucked the ball into his pocket and the stick under his arm before walking over to the windowsill to grab the paper bag of groceries. As he slid it off and its weight sank fully into his body, he wobbled a bit with a surprised yelp. Ayumi playfully raised an eyebrow at him. “Got it?”

“Got it!” he wheezed through gritted teeth. The green onions jittered in the bag as his arms trembled slightly from the weight. Chuckling, Ayumi removed the pound of chicken to lighten his load a bit. He pouted at her, but his arms stopped quivering, so he didn’t openly object to the help. He waddled alongside Ayumi as she finished her grocery run and then walked the short distance home, then carefully navigated the smooth rocks of her garden pathway and her porch steps before bustling into her house. He dropped the bag on the kitchen counter with a loud sigh, discreetly massaging the muscles of his arms when he thought Ayumi couldn’t see.

As she laid out all the ingredients for lunch, he clambered up into one of her kitchen chairs, sitting on his knees and resting his hands in his cheeks.

“What are you making?”

“Chicken tonkatsu ramen,” she responded as she retrieved her apron from a hook and tied it over her sundress. “Is that all right?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I like ramen,” he answered shyly, looking away. Ayumi began boiling a pot of water for the noodles, then began cutting the vegetables as she waited for the liquid to heat up and start bubbling. Between the rhythmic chops of the knife blade against the cutting board, she could hear Shikadai tapping his fingers and huffing boredly.

“Shikadai, would you like to help me cook? Or, if not, I have something else you can do for me.”

She almost burst into laughter at how fast he slid out of the chair to scurry to her side.

“What do you need help with, Miss Ayumi? I’ll do whatever you need!” he promised. Ayumi gifted him a sweet smile, setting down the knife and boosting him up onto the counter so he could look out her kitchen window. He balanced himself on his knees on the thin wedge of countertop in front of her sink and grasped the windowsill, looking out with knitted eyebrows.

“See that empty space over there?” she said, pointing to a patch of empty grass in-between two of her flower beds. “The last flowers I planted there didn’t do so well, but I’m thinking about planting some new ones, ones that will grow over the winter and bloom in spring.” Shikadai turned to look at her with owlish, inquisitive eyes. “But before I can do that, I need to get rid of the weeds! I’ve been too busy to do it myself, so I would be really grateful if a smart, capable young ninja could do it for me.”

Shikadai flushed shyly as she tossed a wink in with her compliment. He scratched at the side of his neck as he considered the proposal, studying the dandelions and spriggy weeds overtaking the grass by the fence.

“What’ll you do with the weeds?”

Ayumi straightened up in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to ask such a thing. He continued to stare out at them, strangely blank-faced. “They’re just tryin’ to grow too. It seems kinda sad to just rip ‘em up because they aren’t as pretty as flowers. Maybe they’re a little ragged and plain, but… I kind of like weeds. No matter how many times you step on ‘em or tear ‘em out, they still keep trying to grow.”

Ayumi felt her heart swell. Such a sweet boy… Like a little weed trying his best to survive in such a daunting environment. No wonder he’s a little protective of them. Well, the last thing she was going to do was call him silly.

“Well, now, I’ve never considered that before, but you’re quite right. It does seem unfair to the weeds, now, doesn’t it?” Ayumi said, walking over to the now-boiling water to dump the pasta in. As she swirled it around, she hummed thoughtfully. “You know, I have a cracked old flower pot that I’ve been meaning to repair, but if we plant the weeds around it, it’ll make quite the unique, rustic display, don’t you think? I bet if you’re really careful, you can dig up the weeds with the root intact and just move them over there. Then, we can plant the pretty flowers, and the weeds can grow undisturbed. How does that sound, Shikadai?” she asked, smiling at him over her shoulder.

“Okay!” he grinned and hopped off the counter. Laughing, Ayumi left the noodles to cook while fixing him up with all the gardening necessities— a trowel, some gardening gloves, and a gardening apron. He was a little upset that she only had “girly ones with flowers on them,” so she promised that she would have a “boyish” one for him the next time he came over. The implied promise to let him garden again sent him in such a joyful tizzy that he burst out the front door before Ayumi had the chance to fold over the edge of the apron, so he tripped over it and face-planted across the threshold. He took it like a champ, stubbornly rubbing his reddened nose and blinking the tears out of his eyes and insisting that “as a tough ninja, he could handle it.”

Ayumi showed him where the broken pot was nestled against the back of her house next to her watering hose before returning to the kitchen, leaving him to his task. She occasionally glanced out the window to check up on him. It was quite refreshing to see the ordinarily lazy Shikadai so engrossed in something; he steadfastly dug up the weeds with the trowel, carefully working around the delicate, thread-thin roots, before gingerly carrying them around the side of the house to the cracked pot. He then scoured out a tiny bit of the dark, damp earth, placed the weed in the hole, and then softly covered it back up.

Right as she was adding the garnish to two steaming bowls of ramen, Shikadai came tromping into the kitchen. Soil was smeared across the apron and his face; at some point, he’d gotten annoyed that the gloves were slightly too big for him, so he’d abandoned them in favor of digging with his fingers, leaving them caked in the rich earth. He sheepishly smiled as Ayumi raised her eyebrow at him.

“I, erm… I’m gonna wash my hands.”

While he spent several minutes scrubbing the dirt from his palms and fingers and out from underneath his fingernails, Ayumi carried the bowls over to the kitchen. She treaded carefully, mouth slightly parted in concentration as the simmering broth sloshed at the edges of the painted ceramic. She managed to deliver both of them without burning herself, though her fingers had pinkened and stung just a little. She poured herself and some Shikadai two glasses of cold, refreshing milk tea.

“Man, I’m starving,” Shikadai grinned with his tongue sticking out as he climbed into his seat. So starving he forgot to wash his face, Ayumi appreciated while hiding a chuckle behind her hand. He scooped up a healthy amount of the noodles with his chopsticks, blowing on them a few times, before sucking them into his mouth. “Mhmm,” he hummed appreciatively. This time, Ayumi had to laugh at the green onion stuck at the corner of his lip.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s been a long time since I’ve had guests,” she chuckled as she used a napkin to dab away the bit of minced vegetable. Shikadai looked at her with bright eyes as he continued to chow down on her homemade ramen.

“So you really just live here by yourself?”

“That’s right,” she said, swirling her noodles around to soak up some broth before taking a dainty bite. “My parents retired to a remote village out east. My father is handicapped, so they don’t travel very often, and due to my job, it’s hard to make time to go see them,” she explained.

“And you’re not married.”

Ayumi snorted at the bold statement, which caused hot broth to surge right up her nasal passages. She dropped the chopsticks as she hacked and coughed, tears streaming from her eyes as the delicate mucosa burned. She shot the boy a glare as he cackled with giddy laughter.

“Shikadai! There are some things you don’t ask a woman about, and that’s one of them!”

“But it’s true!” he grinned cheekily as he bit into his boiled egg, sending yolk spilling everywhere. “Yanno, maybe if you didn’t have your nose in a book all the time, you would be married.”

“Humph!” she huffed haughtily while scrubbing her broth-splattered face with her napkin. “If more men appreciated women who had their noses stuck in books, the world would be a much better— and much smarter— place!”

“Haha, you’re probably right. Some people are pretty dumb.”

“Like you, silly boy!” she jeered, poking him in the forehead with the business end of her chopsticks. He yelped and ducked his head away, laughing. “I invite you into my home, and you repay me by teasing me for being single? What about you, huh? Get yourself a girlfriend!”

“No way! Girls are a drag!” Shikadai objected disgustedly.

“Uh-huh,” Ayumi tittered with a waggle of her head. “Give it a few years, and you’ll be of a different opinion.”

“Nuh-uh! Never! All they do is nag and bicker and whine!”

“What are you trying to say about me, huh?” she grinned evilly, clacking her chopsticks at him. Shikadai gulped, then snatched up his ramen to take off running. “Hey! Get back here!” Ayumi cried and jumped up from the table to chase after him. They tore across her house, spilling broth and noodles everywhere as Shikadai desperately tried to simultaneously eat and evade her, but they were having too much fun to care. She finally caught him back in the kitchen, grabbing him in a light chokehold and jabbing the chopsticks into his back. “Not so tough now, huh?” she laughed as he giggled and squirmed in her hold. “This’ll teach ya to respect your elders!”

They both froze when three loud knocks echoed through Ayumi’s house. They stood there for a moment, befuddled as they came down from their giddy high until she realized the sound meant that someone was at her door. She swiped some splashed broth off her face and quickly called, “Coming!” before hurrying over.

She wasn’t sure who she expected, but it sure wasn’t Shikamaru.

Oh my goodness. He looks awful, was the first thing she thought. He was slouched in her doorway, supporting his weight by leaning against the doorjamb. He’d thrown up his unbrushed, unwashed hair into a messy ponytail, but several loose, wavy sprigs fell down into his face over his dull eyes. Dark, black rings had made a home underneath them, a stark contrast to his pale and sweaty complexion. His eyelashes fluttered as Ayumi opened the door, the dimmest of lights returning to his eyes— like a dead man coming back to life, just barely.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced.” His voice was thick, hollow— almost like it belonged to a ghost of him and not the real thing. “I asked around for your address,” he explained with a slight cough at her silent question of how he’d managed to find his way here. “I went looking for Shikadai around town, and one of the shopkeepers told me he went home with you.”

“O-oh, um, yes. Shikadai helped me do some work around the house,” she explained lamely. He grunted in response. His dark gaze slid over her shoulder to fixate on his son standing awkwardly in the hall. She glanced back to see the child fisting the dirty apron, eyes wide and lips pinched together as he regarded his father hesitantly. “Sh-Shikamaru,” Ayumi started, whirling back around to look up at him. He gave her a haggard, tired look that momentarily made her lose her words.

“Sh-Shikamaru,” she began again after a few seconds, wherein all he did was stare wearily. “Please, come inside, take a rest… You look—”

“Thanks, Ayumi, but I don’t need any help.” Of course he would tell her that— don’t stick her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. But this time… She didn’t feel like it wasn’t wanted. His tone lacked the bite it once had; instead of dripping with vitriol, his voice was devoid of anything at all. Somehow that saddened her more.

She looked pitifully at the broken man before her. Just the other day, he’d gifted her such a beautiful smile, such a bright and brief ray of happiness. What had happened to it? Why was he rocketing back and forth between highs and lows, unable to stabilize himself?

What could Ayumi do to help him?

“Shikamaru, please,” she insisted. “I—” Her words died in her throat as he reached up to cup her cheek. His hand was clammy but also warm and careful to touch her tenderly.

“Thank you,” he repeated softly, “but I really just want to take my son home, okay?”

Her eyelashes fluttered as she drew in a shaky breath.

“O-okay.”

Shikamaru pushed himself off the doorframe to his full height. Ayumi noticed the way his body swayed with exhaustion, though. Shikadai pushed past her thigh through the small gap between herself and the doorframe. When she looked down at him, still in a stunned state, he smiled wanly and held out the folded-up apron.

“I had fun today, Miss Ayumi,” he said quietly. Robotically, the teacher took the soiled garment and murmured something appropriate in response. She watched, in a foggy daze, as the two Naras walked down her garden path and through her front gate to leave. She stood there even long after they had gone until the scent of chicken broth and green onions finally called her back to reality.

“Right. I should clean up,” Ayumi murmured to herself. However, as she shut the door, she just collapsed back against it. She clutched the apron to her chest; the scent of earth and grass replaced the ramen smell, bringing a small smile to her lips despite it all.

“I had fun today, too…”

~~~~~~~~~~

The gravel crunched underneath Shikamaru’s feet as they walked silently down the road. As they strode, Shikadai bounced a red rubber ball beside him with a stick. For a while, that was it— just crunching footsteps and the smack of rubber against the ground.

“Did you eat?” Shikamaru asked finally, side-eyeing his son. Shikadai nodded without looking up.

“Yeah. Miss Ayumi made me lunch.”

“That’s good.”

They fell silent again. Shikamaru ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair and whistled through his teeth, marveling at what a hot ass mess he was and wondering how in the hell he was supposed to keep himself together. They said nothing all the rest of the way home, not until Shikamaru collapsed back on the couch and slung an arm over his eyes. He could feel Shikadai milling about in the living room.

“She lives there all by herself,” the boy said suddenly, quietly. Though Shikamaru did not lift his arm, his lips tightened a little into a slight frown.

“Does she?”

“Yeah. It’s so sad.” This time, Shikamaru did lift his arm a little to peer thoughtfully at his son. Shikadai was standing near the slightly-ajar sliding door, peeking out into the golden afternoon while holding the red rubber ball. “She’s so kind, but… I can’t help but get the feeling she’s lonely— like a flower struggling to bloom in soil that’s not good for her.”

When did my son get so fucking poetic? Shikamaru thought wryly as he flopped his head back down and covered his eyes against the golden light spilling into the room.

“A flower, huh?” he echoed, his voice just a whisper. If Ayumi was a soft, beautiful flower, he and Shikadai were weeds— two prickly thistles struggling to cohabitate the same space. Shikamaru can tell from the way the wood creaked that his son had turned around to look back at him. “What does that make us, then?”

“I guess that makes us weeds.” Shikamaru had to grin at how alike he and his son were, though they shared a wavelength less and less often these days. “That’s okay, though.” Again, Shikamaru peered out from underneath his arm to see his son smiling down at the dirt smudged on his palm. “The good thing about weeds is that they’re tenacious. They always bounce back.”

Shikamaru gawked at him in stunned silence, not sure how to respond. “I’m gonna go study,” the boy decided and disappeared into the back of the house, able to at least occupy the same building now that Shikamaru’s mood was a bit less gloomy. Shikamaru stared at the space the young boy had been, turning his comment over in his mind. Finally, he flopped back down against the couch with a wry smile.

They bounce back, huh? God, I hope so. I don’t know how much more this weed can take, he thought as a few tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes and smudged his sleeve. As he considered the striking metaphor, his mind began to gravitate to another train of thought. He wondered what kind of flower Ayumi would be.

What kind of bloom could ever do her justice?

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #shikamaru nar #nara shikamaru #shikadai nara #nara shikadai #shikamaru x oc

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healthyworthyofficial · 4 years

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Sugar-Free & Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch

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Are you on the hunt for sugar-free breakfast recipes? Your complete household will love this straightforward grain-free cinnamon crunch. This selfmade pantry recipe is only one of many sugar-free and grain-free granolas I've on Ditch The Carbs. Take a glance beneath in any respect the opposite flavours that we’ve whipped as much as make issues simpler.

Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch In this submit you'll study:

What easy pantry elements do you want?What’s mistaken with boxed cereal?Why is breakfast the brand new dessert?Why do they feed grains to fatten animals?More Healthy Pantry Breakfast Recipes – No Sugar, No Gluten, Low-Carb And Keto Sugar-free grain-free cinnamon crunch recipe

Sugar-Free & Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch

I’ve been promising to submit this recipe for some time, so right here it's. Sugar-free and grain-free cinnamon crunch with a touch of vanilla, is totally divine. I've to cease my youngsters from consuming it straight from the jar. They eat it for breakfast with berries and unsweetened yoghurt or sprinkled on whipped cream for a fast and wholesome dessert. We all need one thing fast within the morning and are so used to pouring one thing from a packet, it is a nice wholesome various. I make a giant batch each few weeks with no matter combination of seeds, nuts and coconut I've in my pantry on the time. More Low-Carb Breakfast Recipes …

What Pantry Ingredients Do You Need For Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch?

I've given a choice of nuts and seeds within the home-made grain-free granola recipe beneath, however in reality, it's fairly adaptable pantry recipe. If you possibly can’t discover a number of the elements, merely use whichever seeds and nuts that you could find, and you'll tolerate. When attainable, try to discover thread coconut or coconut chips because it provides a extremely stunning texture and crunch. TOP TIP: I usually add walnut halves or chopped uncooked almonds AFTER it has been baked, so as to add selection and texture. If you haven’t seen my earlier grain-free granola/muesli recipes check out the unique Grain-Free Granola and an all-time favorite Chocolate Grain-Free Granola. I particularly encourage you to learn the submit right here on why it's good to ditch the cereals and the 5 myths that cereal is sweet for you.

What’s Wrong With Boxed Cereal?

If you perceive what's mistaken with cereals and the way they're marketed, you'll perceive what's mistaken with fashionable meals manufacturing. See how firms flip an inexpensive grain right into a socially acceptable breakfast meals. Cereals at this time are extra akin to a dessert than a breakfast meal. And do not forget that grains are used to fatten cattle, so cease grazing except you need to be the scale of 1. And attempt to pledge by no means to feed your youngsters cornflakes and cereals once more. Read extra: Why is breakfast the brand new dessert?

More Healthy Pantry Breakfast Recipes – No Sugar, No Gluten, Low-Carb And Keto

So if you're model new right here, granola might not be your factor, possibly pancakes and waffles are extra interesting proper now. I’ve bought you coated too. Here is a choice of the most well-liked wholesome breakfast recipes. More recipes you might like: LOW-CARB BREAKFASTS: Who else needs to begin their day the simple manner? There’s even an egg-free chapter for you too – CLICK HERE

Home-made Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch – no sugars!

Grain-free cinnamon crunch is a game-changer. Adults and children alike fall in love with this wholesome pantry recipe and is the right antidote to sugary cereals/granolas within the morning. P Prep Time10 minutes Cook Time30 minutes Total Time40 minutes Course: Breakfast, Lunch packing containers, Snacks Diet: Dairy Free, Gluten Free, Grain free, LCHF, Low Carb, No Sugars, Paleo, Wheat Free Diet: Diabetic, Gluten Free Keyword: Grain-free granola, Homemade granola recipe Total Carbs: 6.9g Fibre: 5g InstructionsNutty Base Place all of the nuts, seeds and coconut in an enormous baking dish then pour over the cinnamon crunch. Mix gently with a serving spoon. Bake at 180C/350F for 30 minutes however you MUST flip the combination over each 3-Four minutes to keep away from the coconut from burning. You don't want an costly mistake in your palms. Adjust your oven in line with how briskly it's cooking. Store in an hermetic container within the fridge. Will maintain for 3-Four weeks. Sotre within the freezer for as much as Three months. Want to begin low-carb FAST?Grab your FREE 5-day meal plan, pantry information, procuring checklist & tracker CLICK HERE NotesNutrition values will fluctuate extensively for this recipe relying on which seed/nuts you add and the way a lot. Use the vitamin panel as a information solely. I've calculated the values utilizing a 1/2 cup (43g) however will rely on how a lot you utilize for breakfast (possibly extra) or as a dessert on berries (possibly much less). Nutrition Facts Home-made Grain-Free Cinnamon Crunch – no sugars! Amount Per Serving (43 g) Calories 258 Calories from Fat 220 % Daily Value* Fat 24.4g38% Carbohydrates 6.9g2% Fiber 5g21% Sugar 0.4g0% Protein 6g12% * Percent Daily Values are primarily based on a 2000 calorie food plan. NEED MORE HELP?Ditch The Carbs PRO – your low-carb course PLUS the FAMOUS mini-challenges that cease you falling again into previous habits – JOIN US Cookbooks & Meal PlansTake the stress out of cooking, all of the assets you’ll ever want – SHOW ME Need assist, suggestions & tips?Join our pleasant SUPPORT GROUP to assist assist and information you and your loved ones to stay low-carb for all times!

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Subscribe to my FREE publication service and get immediate entry to the FREE Low-Carb FAQ & Diet Sheet as a subscriber bonus. You additionally obtain secret low cost codes for subscribers solely. You are also agreeing to our Privacy Policy Success! Now test your e mail to obtain your FREE eBook instantly. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) {if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function(){n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments)}; if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=;t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e); s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)}(window, document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '389949918466211'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); Source link Read the full article

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