Lowkey wanna see a fic where Grace actually IS an angel (on his version of earth thats literally what his species is called and everything) and he can do the hand wavy magic and stuff along with all the other beings on his planet but has no ties to religion whatsoever bc of whatever circumstance. so when simon sees him and mentions God, Grace is just like "lol who??"
Also his wings HAVE to be a gold blond color for my peace of mind
Also Grace's family all have owl like traits and he can spin his head all the way around and stare for extended periods of time
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ââ âĄ Ë synopsis: youâre absolutely in love with sevikaâs pussy smell and make no effort to hide. she feels a little shy about it, but you know she likes it. â¤ď¸ Ě
ââ âĄ Ë cw: fingering (s receiving), mention of cunnilingus (s received), bottom!sevika, shy!sevika, soft!sevika, scent kink (?), gentle sex. â¤ď¸ Ě
âcan you stop?â
âstop what?â you asked as you brought your middle and ring fingers close to your nose again, taking a deep breath through your nose, releasing a pleased sigh. âfuuck, this is heaven.â
sevika groaned in embarrassment, turning sideways on the bed while pressing her temple with her right handâs fingers â her prosthetic long forgotten on the table beside the bed.
it was such a cute sight seeing your girlfriend curled up on the bed, too shy to properly look at your face.
âawww, whatâs wrong baby? canât a woman appreciate her ladyâs smell?â
âshut up.â she mumbled, and didnât move.
you let out a chuckle and lay down right behind her, hugging her by the waist, bringing her as close as you could. then, you distribute kisses on her broad, sweat back, feeling the way she shivered slightly.
âdonât be shy. i just really love your smell.â
âi know, i love yours too. itâs just...â she turned to face you but quickly seemed to regret, rolling her eyes as she saw the cocky smile on your face. âoh, fuck you.â
you chuckled again, softly.
âcâmon. keep talking. itâs just what?â
she shrugged.
âyou just⌠looks so concentrated and in trance. maybe just stupid.â
âmmm, yeah! all of these, actually. i concentrate so i can feel better, iâm in trance because itâs too good and i am, in fact, soooo stupidly in love with you.â
âyeah, yeah. i can see all that.â she said, tone playful although still looking a little shy. âmaybe itâs the way you do it. i like yours, but i donât smell my fingers like a sex maniac.â
âyou talk too much.â
you held her face and before she could talk or try to squirm away, you started to attack her with quick pecks all over her face.
sevika tried, she really tried, staying still like a stone while waiting for your attack to stop. but as soon as your lips met her jaw and neck, she giggled, now really trying to push you away from her while using all the forces on her to not burst out laughing.
you tickled her for a few more seconds, until you calmed the kisses and held her waist. sevika let out a low sigh of relief, but the smile didnât leave her face. for an instant, you just admired her in silence, gently stroking her waist with your thumbs. she swallowed. she could feel the weight of your gaze every time you stopped whatever you were doing just to look at her like that; and for someone who needs to learn how to adapt to being so deeply and truly admired after years of being mistreated, it was still a little hard for her. but she didnât look away.
you exhaled through your nose and brought a hand to her face, drawing her close so that you could kiss again.
the kiss was slow and intense, you both sighed into each otherâs mouths, pressing your naked bodies even closerâif that was even possible. a low moan escaped you between kisses as your nipples brushed and pressed against each other.
one of your hands slid down to her hips, gently tracing her lower abdomen. nothing needed to be said, sevika simply lifted her leg and rested it on your thigh, giving you more access to paradise.
you didnât waste any time, your hand was already moving down, reaching her trimmed bush first. it was wet with her previous orgasm. then, your hand finally reached her pussy. still soaked after being eaten out and fingered by you.
your lips parted, and sevika let out a low, trembling gasp, still sensitive, but ready for another round. you admired her lustful face for a short moment before closing your eyes to press wet kisses on her neck, being especially careful at the hickeysâ marks. you kissed more gently there, and then buried your face in the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath, feeling the remaining and faint scent of her perfume and of her sweat.
your fingers massaged her swollen clitoris slowly, deliberately slow circles, alternating the pressure, careful not to overstimulate her too quickly. sevika kept her eyes closed, letting out low sighs and shy moans, while she held onto your shoulder for support, to have something to release the growing pleasure on.
soon your fingers were in her slit, and god, you could feel more coming out of her.
your middle and ring fingers slid in together in a quick, easy motion, and you didnât stop until you were all the way in, reaching your knuckles. without waiting, you began a slow back and forth motion, letting your fingers almost completely out before plunging them back in with a continuous thrust.
sevika called your name between a whimper and a moan. you didnât respond with words, but showed you were listening by moving your kisses from her neck to her cheek.
âfaster..â she whispered.
you obeyed instantly, pumping your fingers faster and harder. she rolled her eyes and moaned, turning to lie on her back so she could spread her shapely legs wider. you supported yourself on your free elbow and continued thrusting, now watching her face contorted with pleasure as you bit your lower lip.
it was a perfect sight. her eyes tightly closed, but occasionally opening for a few seconds just so you could see them rolling back or trying and failing to focus on something. her mouth unable to stay closed, moans, whimpers, and incoherent words escaping her full, swollen lips. her bare chest rose and fell as her climax approached, as did her hand gripping the sheets as if to tear them. her legs began to tremble more and more, becoming uncontrollable, her toes curled, and her pussy swallowing your fingers easily, leaking and dripping.
suddenly, you felt her walls tighten around your fingers. at the same time, her legs snapped shut around your hand, her back arched, and she let out a loud and long moan.
even with the restriction, you continued moving your fingers inside, curving them and pressing them against her g-spot repeatedly, intensifying her orgasm and working her through it.
when she calmed down from her climax, you carefully removed your fingers and returned to kissing her, leaving gentle, affectionate kisses all over her face. and then you stopped.
sevika slowly opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling for one second before looking for you. upon seeing you, she widened her eyes and felt her face heat up. she shouted your name, using an indignant and embarrassed tone.
âwhat?â you looked at her, but didnât stop your nostrils from inhaling the scent on your fingers. you kept the eye contact as you used your tongue to lick between your fingers, collecting what was left of her there.
Summary: A fall gives you a concussion, leaving you a little dazed and briefly without memory of her. Sevika stays by your side, gentle and patient.
The fall happens too fast.
One second youâre there, laughing at something small and forgettable, and the next your foot slips. Thereâs a sharp, awful sound when your head hits, and then nothing.
Sevika doesnât remember moving.
Sheâs on her knees beside you before the echo fades, hands hovering like sheâs afraid to touch you and make it worse. Your name is on her lips, over and over, rough and breaking in a way it never does.
âHey. Hey, stay with me. Youâre okay, baby. Look at me.â
You donât.
That terrifies her.
â
The hospital is too slow. Everything is too slow.
Sevika paces like a caged animal outside your room, arms crossed tight like sheâs holding herself together by force. She hates this. The waiting. The not knowing. The helplessness.
Sheâs faced worse. Done worse. Survived worse.
None of that matters when itâs you.
When the doctor finally comes out, Sevika is already standing in front of them before they can even speak.
âShe hit her head,â they explain calmly. âThereâs a concussion. Weâre monitoring her, but she should wake soon.â
âShould?â Sevikaâs voice is low, dangerous.
The doctor doesnât flinch. âYes. There may be some temporary confusion when she wakes. Possibly some short-term memory issues. Itâs common with head injuries.â
Sevika goes still.
âTemporary?â she confirms.
âYes.â
Thatâs the only thing that keeps her from tearing the whole place apart.
â
When you wake, everything feels⌠wrong.
Your head throbs in a dull, heavy way. The lights are too bright. The air smells strange. You blink slowly, trying to make sense of it, but your thoughts feel thick, like theyâre moving through syrup.
Thereâs a shape beside you.
Someone sitting close. Watching you.
You squint.
Sheâs⌠big. Solid. Broad shoulders, strong arms, sitting forward like sheâs been holding herself there for a long time. Her eyes are locked onto you, sharp and intense-
And then they soften the second you move.
âHey,â she says, voice low, careful. âEasy.â
You blink again, trying to focus on her face.
Sheâs⌠pretty.
Like, really pretty.
Your brows knit together in confusion. You look around the room, then back at her.
ââŚwhere am I?â Your voice comes out small, slow.
âHospital,â she says gently. âYou had a fall. Hit your head.â
âOh.â You absorb that for a moment. ââŚthat makes sense.â
She lets out a small breath that might be a laugh, but itâs shaky.
You look at her again. Really look this time.
She hasnât taken her eyes off you once.
âAnd⌠who are you?â
The question lands like a punch.
Sevika doesnât move.
For a second, something raw flashes across her face. Something sharp and pained and quickly buried. She exhales slowly through her nose, grounding herself.
The doctorâs words echo in her head. Temporary.
Temporary.
She leans forward slightly, resting her forearms on the edge of your bed.
âIâm Sevika,â she says, steady now.
You tilt your head, studying her like sheâs something unfamiliar. Something interesting.
âSevikaâŚâ you repeat, testing it.
She nods once.
You squint at her again, then your expression shifts into something softer. A little dazed. A little awed.
ââŚyouâre really pretty.â
Sevika blinks.
ââŚwhat?â
You smile, slow and lopsided from the meds, completely unfiltered. âLike. Really pretty. Are you⌠are you my friend?â
Thereâs a pause.
Then Sevika huffs out a quiet breath, something almost like disbelief mixing with relief.
âSomething like that,â she murmurs.
You frown slightly, unsatisfied. âThatâs not a real answer.â
Sevikaâs lips twitch despite everything.
âNo,â she admits. âItâs not.â
You look at her expectantly, waiting.
She hesitates.
For the first time since you woke, Sevika looks⌠unsure. Like sheâs choosing her next words carefully, like they matter more than anything.
âIâm your wife,â she admits finally.
Silence.
You stare at her.
Then your eyes go wide.
âShut up.â
Sevika actually chokes on a laugh.
âIâm serious,â she says.
âNo way,â you breathe, looking her up and down again like youâre reassessing everything. âYou⌠youâre my wife?â
âYeah.â
ââŚlike, legally?â
âYes, honey.â
You sit there for a second, clearly trying to process it. Then your face lights up in pure, unfiltered amazement.
âI pulled that?â
Sevika lets out a real laugh this time. Rough and warm, the tension finally easing out.
âYeah, baby,â she says, shaking her head. âYou did.â
You grin, proud despite having no memory to back it up. âWow. Good for me.â
She canât stop looking at you.
All that fear, all that tight, suffocating panic from earlier⌠it loosens, just a little. Enough for something softer to take its place.
You glance around again, the confusion creeping back in at the edges. Your smile falters slightly.
âI- I donât remember anything,â you admit quietly.
Sevikaâs expression softens instantly.
She reaches out, slow and deliberate, giving you time to pull away if you want to.
You donât.
Her hand settles gently over yours, warm and steady.
âThatâs okay,â she says.
You look back at her, brows knitting together, uncertain.
âItâll come back,â she continues, voice low and grounding. âDoctor said itâs temporary.â
ââŚyou sure?â
âIâm certain.â She squeezes your hand lightly. âAnd even if it takes time, Iâve got you, sweetheart. Always have and always will.â
You study her face again.
She looks so sure. So solid. Like nothing could shake her.
Something in your chest settles.
ââŚokay,â you say softly.
A beat passes.
Then, a little shy, a little curious, you add, âCan I⌠still hold your hand? Even if I donât remember?â
Sevikaâs throat tightens.
âOf course,â she responds immediately.
You relax into the bed, fingers curling more securely around hers.
ââŚcool,â you mumble, already getting a little drowsy again.
She watches as your eyes start to drift shut, your grip still loose but trusting.
Sevika leans back slightly in her chair, not pulling away.
Not for a second.
Her thumb brushes gently over your knuckles, slow and deliberate, like sheâs reassuring herself youâre really there.
ââŚyou really donât remember me, huh?â she murmurs quietly.
Your eyes flutter half-open.
You blink at her, sleepy.
ââŚno,â you admit, a little apologetic.
A pause.
Then, timid but sincere, you add, âBut I think I like you anyway.â
Sevikaâs breath catches.
And just like that, her chest feels full again. Not with fear this time.
Something warmer.
Something steadier.
ââŚyeah?â she asks quietly.
You nod, already slipping back under. âMhm. You seem⌠safe.â
Sevika squeezes your hand just a little tighter.
âGood,â she murmurs.
Because no matter what you do or donât remember-
Is it okay to request an idea? Sevika x plus sized reader that grew up as the weird kid and kept that part of themselves and rants to Sevika about lore from the fandoms reader is in? (my current one is Jurassic Park/ dinosaurs currently watching the new dinosaur documentary) :))
being considered the âweird kidâ growing up was certainly a relatively uncomfortable experience in many aspects of your life, though not all of them.
even though it was difficult to fit in or find someone who genuinely didnât make fun of you, at least you didnât stop enjoying the things you liked because of other peopleâs opinions. after all, you were the one happily watching the episodes and doing your stuff without hurting anyone, not them.
and reaching adulthood, that didnât change. it was your comfort, a big and important part of your peace, and you learned to ignore those who tried to ridicule you for it. and you also achieved something wonderful: finding people who were genuinely willing to listen to you, and one of them was your girlfriend, sevika.
she had always been a quieter person, preferring to show she cared or loved by sticking around, whether just to enjoy the silence together or to listen to someone talk. and in this case, listening to your enthusiastic voice was the perfect refreshment for her on any given summer afternoon.
âthe dilophosaurus never had the ability to spit venom like in the movie. itâs just another lie from the cinema, to call attention, yâknow?â
âalright, so⌠even the velociraptor from the old movie isnât a representation of what they really looked like?â sevika asked, opening her eyes and furrowing her brow, turning her head to look at you.
you were lying on her chest, and you were both in a hammock on the porch. you had been telling her about the things youâd watched and read for a while, and sheâd asked short questions from time to time, preferring to listen rather than interrupt with her doubts, but she couldnât let this one pass.
âmhm! they were very different. almost all of them. i think the most accurate were the tyrannosaurus and the triceratops, but there are still many things that they changed.â
âdamn⌠they lied to me this whole time.â she murmured, looking at the clear sky with a clearly offended look.
you laughed softly before speaking again.
ânowadays i heard people saying itâs because they were created in a lab in the movie, so they didnât come out as they really were⌠itâs a good excuse.â
âdumbasses.â
you laughed again. sevika couldnât help but smile slightly at your laughter. she turned and pulled you even closer, hugging you. you returned the hug, placing a leg over her hip. sevika kissed your cheek and moved a hand to caress and squeeze your ample thigh, sighing as she felt the softness in her palm.
âgo on. you were gonna talk about the spinosaurus.â she murmured, moving her kisses down to your jaw.
âiâm distracted.â you murmured back, feeling her snort a laugh against your neck.
âď¸Shikamaru definitely realizes his feelings first and it is 100% an "oh, shit" moment.
âď¸I imagine the Nara clan to love not as angrily as the Uchiha, but just as obsessively. Where the Uchiha seek to almost possess, the Nara clan covets knowledge. In this case, Shikamaru wants to know everything about Narutoâ no detail is too small.
âď¸ I'm not saying Shikamaru is stalking him, but he'd definitely follow him everywhere. Like, he's not trying to hide. Naruto just hasn't noticed because it's... Well, it's Naruto.
âď¸And the few times he does notice him it's justâ "Wow, what're you doing here Shikamaru? đ" baby you should be asking why you've seen him ten different times this week and it's only Monday.
âď¸Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation Nara Fixation, did I say Nara Fixation yet?
âď¸Naruto wants for nothing because somehow, Shikamaru always knows exactly what he needs and is able to predict exactly when he's going to need it.
âď¸ Naruto never quite realizes the depth of the obsession/love. He's just completely oblivious to the fact that Shikamaru is kind of, slightly, a little bit (maybe a lot a bit) insane. With a cherry on top.
âď¸ Lowkey, I am a huge fan of crazy Shikamaru. Like, not outwardly crazy, but "I know your height, weight, regular resting heart rate, wrist diameter, and how many times you've said 'believe it' today" crazy Shikamaru. Knows too much Shikamaru.
âď¸Naruto 100% just assumes they're dating after a while of certain details accumulating. Shikamaru feeds him like, daily. Shikamaru has shared a bed with him several times. They spend a lot of time together. They hold hands. Shikamaru knows like, everything about him somehow.
âď¸ Naturally, they must've been dating this entire time and Naruto simply didn't notice until now. And because Naruto has zero experience with healthy relationships, he just accepts this as fact and moves on with his life.
âď¸ Shikamaru when Naruto grabs him by the face on day, plants a huge kiss on him with no context, and then skips off: đď¸đđď¸
âď¸ Come on, it'd be so funny.
âď¸ Insert Naruto also knowing a surprising amount about Shikamaru, because he's more attentive than people give him credit for. Shikamaru follows him around so much, of course he learns about him over time. He may be an idiot, but he's not a moron. Or... something like that.
âď¸ Naruto is just happy someone actually wants to be around him. Sasuke is Sasuke, Sakura constantly yells at him, Kakashi literally runs, Yamato is only around for training, and Sai just insults him in increasing intervals when they're together.
âď¸ Touch-Starved! Naruto vs. Can't get enough of touching him! Shikamaru! Go! Fight!
âď¸ Shikamaru "he's never going to love me" Nara and Naruto "I wonder when Shikamaru is gonna propose" Uzumaki
âď¸ Naruto just goes to the court house and files the documents himself. Surprise, Shikamaru. Not only does he love you, you've been married for the past four months.
âď¸ Alternatively, Shikamaru could pull the same move. Oh, you kissed me on the mouth? Sounds like a proposal to me.
âď¸ For a certified genius, Shikamaru would absolutely be the kind of idiot to assume Naruto couldn't ever return his feelings. There could be so much evidence to the contrary and it really WOULD take an entire kiss to the lips to convince him.
âď¸ No worries, Naruto is more than willing to oblige.
âď¸ Basically um I love them, they're both smart AND stupid in different ways, but they make it work. And nobody can change my mind.
More Nara Fixation Headcanons (ShikaNaru edition) đŚđ
-Shikamaru doesn't even try to hide it. He doesn't see the point. Every time he pushes a little further, Naruto gives way with a big smile. He's rubber, malleable and easygoing, and nothing Shikamaru does fazes him. As long as he has a friend, he doesn't even care.
-Is it a little weird that the first time Shikamaru comes over, he goes into the bathroom and sniffs every bottle of soap, shampoo and conditioner? Checks his toothpaste brand? Opens all his cabinets and digs through his dishes? Looks at every single article of clothing in his closet and dresser, and unscrews the cap of his detergent just to sniff that too?
-Like, yeah. But Shikamaru is his friend, so obviously it's fine. He probably has a good reason
-His good reason is a slowly rising obsession that gets worse and worse. Because at first, there's plentiful information to be learned. So many new things to find out and discover, but what happens when that starts to slow down? When he kinda knows everything? When he picks apart every piece of Naruto's life and existence?
-He still wants more.
-So then it moves into wanting to know the shape of Naruto's teeth, and the best way to know that would be to trace them with his tongue. He wants to know what he tastes like all over. He wants to know the feel of his skin. What do his muscles feel like when they ripple? How far can he bend? What noises would be make ifâ
-The point is, Shikamaru starts to run out of things to learn. And he wants to know it all. Happy Naruto, sad, angry, hurt, overjoyed, emotional, confused, pleased. Every facet of him, Shikamaru wants to swallow it whole and commit it to memory.
-He brings Naruto new foods just to see how he reacts to them, what he likes, doesn't like, the faces he makes as he considers it. Naruto thinks it's a bit weird that Shikamaru wants him to describe what the food tastes like to him out loud, but he does his best to explain anyway.
-Shikamaru buys him new clothes in a million different colors too, all to see what Naruto looks like in them, what he thinks of the fabric, how they flow on his body when he moves. He has Naruto describe that too.
-Naruto never even really asks why. Just kind of squints at him and is like "well, if you insist. Anyway so these shorts likeâ"
-It helps that Naruto can talk for hours upon hours nonstop. Shikamaru wants to hear everything he has to say, no matter how mundane. Anything Naruto wants to jabber on about, Shikamaru is right there ready to absorb every word.
-Naruto going about his life while Shikamaru is just there, shadowing him every step of the way and watching his every move.
-Naruto's friends listening to Naruto talk while Shikamaru casually pokes, prods, tugs at him, runs his hands through his hair, etc: đ§
-And Naruto is just like "Oh, don't worry! He's just putting his hands on either side of my neck so he can feel the way it flexes when I pronounce words!"
-Like... baby, that's freak behavior.
-Naruto thinking this is normal best friend behavior because he has absolutely no good frame of reference for what a best friend is aside from Sasuke, who he now admits is a pretty shit example.
-It doesn't help that Naruto is like "isn't that a little weird?" and Shikamaru just straight up lies and is like "Nah, all really good friends do this."
-If Naruto needs something, Shikamaru already has it. He's so in tune with Naruto that he can just predict and tell.
-A few people ask Shikamaru's parents if they're concerned but they just shrug it off like ah, Nara Fixation. What can you do?
-Shikamaru is always wary of taking it too far but also, in his head he and Naruto are already married.
-Basically just Shikamaru being weirdly obsessive, borderline stalkerish (but with boundaries?), and wanting that cookie. Thank you for coming to my TED talk đ
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Temari: It's simple. Shikamaru is the love of my life but I'm not his. I married him anyway because I'm madly in love of him and it was very good optics politically, and he never realized I'm not the love of his life so it works out. Shikmaru's actual true love has a wife. he is the center of her universe and he loves her also but the center of HIS universe is a third guy that isn't his own wife or my husband but rather. a war criminal. this war criminal also has a wife. the two of THEM are INSANELY in love with each other. But even more in love with. the love of your dad's life. Who is also, by the way, the love of my brother's life. I miss Suna sometimes.
Shikadai: good morning to you too mom. I'm gonna pretend you didn't say any of that
Shikamaru Nara and Hinata Hyuga are absolutely wild to Naruto.
They are both stalkers, but while Shikamaru is an information gatherer and knows everything, Hinata is a physical stalker.
Shikamaru "imprinted" in the early days of the academy, but no one knew about it until he filed for registration of his fixation
("A fixation on a person? Are you sure that-"
"It's been going on for 6 years. I'm sure"
"âŚoh")
Well. About "nobody knows".
Chouji knew about the obsession, but doesn't connect it to the fixation and thinks that his friend is just like thatâ˘. It happens. After all, Hinata is the same (and she doesn't have the excuse of "Nara fixations")
The Nara love to gather information.
For Shikamaru, the unpredictable and mysterious Naruto is bait. Hook, line and sinker.
Shikamaru wants to know everything about Naruto - not a single detail will be insignificant
He learns more and more about him, without noticing how he becomes obsessed.
He knows everything, like in the song with which this idea was started
I name your mother and your father and the first pet that you keep
I know your favourite place to dine at when your cheque comes in each week
I know you do your wash on Sundays and you separate your whites
And that your car needs a new tire 'cause last week I laid those spikes
I've got a million polaroids with all the dates penned in red ink
I sneak a walkie-talkie in your room to listen to you sleep
the first pet can be either "Kyuubi" or someone Naruto got. In any case, Shikamaru knows about the jinchuriki status
And even more. He also knows that Hinata is watching him from afar. (He has photos of her rummaging through Naruto's trash, for possible blackmail)
They eventually team up after the Chunin Exams.
It's too late to kill or blind the princess, Naruto took her under his wing more consciously.
Hinata could never fully get rid of someone who truly became Naruto's friend
They can only team up
When Shikamaru realizes that Naruto thinks Hinata is afraid of him because of his stuttering and fainting, he introduces them so that he won't be sad anymore (Hinata is horrified that she hurt him with her behavior and ecstatic that he cares about her so much)
They both dislike Sakura. Moreover, Hinata was irritated by Sakura until Shikamaru pointed out a more serious problem.
Sasuke.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
I think it will be really funny when the older generation realizes that the Nara and Hyuga heirs are crazy about one (1) fox boy.
I was thinking up some possibilities how this will be revealed to the older generation
For some reason, there is a temporary reassignment of teams (like an exercise or something). And Asuma gets our trio
And at the end of the training week, the senseis (and some parents) are gathered at the bar, while the other senseis are discussing the kids, Asuma is just drinking and looking into space
âTough week?â
âYou have no ideaâ
You would think that among the three of them, the loud blond one would be the problematic one, but no. He is surprisingly easy to be around if you pay attention to him. He is the only ray of light in all this nonsense, whom Asuma fiercely defends when someone implies that he is the one making the week tough.
It is the âquiet and calmâ ones who are absolutely crazy.
It's always the quiet ones.
(just imagine Hizashi and Shikaku aging before our eyes when Asuma describes their children as wild gremlins whose brakes are a ninja without brakes.
I admit I'm a big fan of Shikaku, who panics over his son because he knows it's a disaster waiting to happen.
Hizashi doesn't know the scale yet, but he'll learn)
Was thinking about how I want to make a huge physical media collection but I was lamenting about some rare video games that go for hundreds of dollars on ebay. But then I realized I dont actually enjoy playing these games (I like to watch ppl play) so instead im just gonna make the gameplay discs and print sleeves for them similar to the original packaging bc there's no way im paying 500 bucks for a game
SUMMARY: sevika takes the initiative when she hears youâre sick
WARNINGS: modern!sevika, sick!reader, bad grammar, swearing, eating, nondescript reader, snot, mentions of sevikaâs dead mother, allusions to a neglectful father, reader wears a nightgown youâd typically see on an old lady and all my life i knew those as muumuus without actually knowing what a proper muumuu was so i redacted the muumuu use and just address it as a nightdress, molcajetes but i just refer to them as mortars and pestles made of volcanic rock to broaden the horizon
A/N: i reread this and now iâm wondering if i accidentally make them both come off as twenty-something-year-olds and not the middle-aged women iâm trying to convey đ 40 is still young, but thereâs definitely a difference in behaviors between a 40 year old and 20 year old and iâm not sure if iâm hitting the mark exactly like i want to since i am, in fact, 22 myself
(I do not consent to my work being published/translated elsewhere or used for ai chat boxes.)
Itâs Sevikaâs day off, but yet again, she finds herself in the kitchen, chopping and grinding as a pot boils away. Any available window is open, the summer heat clashing with the manufactured one positively radiating from her stove. Not even her air conditioning would have stood a chance so she allowed nature to take over, resigning to it and consoling herself with the promise of proper A/C when sheâs done. Sheâs glad to have had the forethought of wrapping a bandana around her head to catch any sweat beading at her hairline and especially at her temples which are now painted with loose strands of hair. Moving to lift the lid of her motherâs banged up pot, she curses when sheâs immediately assaulted by steam rising with a vengeance she barely manages to dodge.
Sevika shakes her head and contemplates why sheâs even going through this effort before just as hastily banishing the thought. She very well knows why, it doesnât take a genius to know. The moment sheâd heard you clear your throat last night nearing the end of your shift, the sound thick and borderline phlegmy, she was on high alert for not entirely hygienic reasons. It wasnât until you called her earlier just to ask about her day, voice husky and sniffling every other second, was she resolved to do something about it. She recalled her memories of her amma and finally rooted through the recipe box left in her name that had since collected dust. She picked out the card meant for jeera milagurasam and carefully made her way through the instructions. Sheâd made several of her own versions of all the dishes in the box based off memory and what the aunties practically raising her used to fill her with, but none quite measured up to the comfort and taste of the childhood that ended with her motherâs death.
Sevika carefully ladles what fits into a worn bin she usually keeps for her stock before finally shutting off the stove and closing all her windows. She leaves the soup to cool while she takes a brief shower and tries not to put too much thought into what she changes into. She pins a claw clip to her shirt for later use, sliding into her car with her makeshift care package. The drive to your place isnât very long and sheâs soon at your door, frowning with concern when you appear with an incredibly raw nose thatâs starting to peel at the nostrils and what smells like an incredibly thick layer of VaporRub that glints off your collarbone just barely seen under your well-loved and too-big nightdress, one she tries not to stare too much at when she notices the fit of it. Itâs certainly too old of a fashion for you, but you donât seem to care.
âYou look like shit.â Not incredibly tactful, but Sevika canât find anything else to say.
You sniff pathetically and nod, stepping to the side to let her in without question. âFeel like it,â you croak, wincing then reaching up to massage your throat. You close the door behind her and lock up. âWhat brings you âround?â
Sevikaâs hand finds the small of your back, guiding you towards your kitchenette. âFigured if you sounded half as terrible as you did over the phone,â she begins, setting down her gift. âI could try my hand at helping you feel better.â
As soon as youâre seated, she instantly moves in search of a bowl and spoon in a cowardly attempt to escape the smile she knows is on your face. She still doesnât meet your eyes as she ladles you a generous portion of still-warm soup, sitting it in front of you then herself at your side. She gently nudges the food toward you. âHowâd you manage a cold in this heat, anyway?â She takes a second to finally draw her hair up, twisting it halfheartedly then securing it with the claw clip that had been clinging to her shirt.
Your smile doesnât waver as you give her a shrug, carefully stirring the soup to cool it. âThatâs just sort of my luck, yâknow?â you hum, lifting the spoon and blowing. âThe worst isnât over, though, I can feel it.â Sevika watches you, fingers wiggling in her lap out of sight as she tries to gauge your reaction.
âGonna be a few days,â she adds to hide her nerves.
You nod, not giving anything away yet, simply scooping up a few droplets from your lower lip. âMhm, exactly.â You take another spoonful and close your eyes, swallowing with what looks like relish. âFuck, this is already helping so much.â You look curiously at Sevika as you fully abandon the spoon, taking to sip straight from the bowl. âWhatâs in it?â
Sevika clears her throat, not having expected your enthusiasm, and sits up straighter. âUh, tamarind-â
âShit, thatâs genius.â Her lips quirk.
âCurry leaves, black pepper, turmeric, cumin. Threw in some garlic for the taste and benefits-â
âBenefits?â Youâre sniffling again, but this time, sheâs sure itâs because of the spice. She can hardly stifle her smile any longer, taking a napkin to dab at your nostrils for you. It isnât a pretty picture, but damn it if it doesnât kindle a warmth inside her.
âSupposed to have an anti-something-something in there,â she mumbles, pinching your nose with the napkin. âBlow.â She openly grimaces at the quickly dampening tissue. âNasty.â She balls up the paper towel and leaves it on the table for now. âI think itâs anti-bacterial.â
Unperturbed, you return to your sipping. âOh, so this is like a home remedy?â
Sevika nods. âSomething like that. Itâll help with your throat, reduce coughing, and the spice should clear your sinuses.â
You make a noise of approval. âYouâre an angel, Sev.â
She ignores the rising heat in her cheeks and the sudden weight on her chest by waving you off in a nonchalant manner then looking around your kitchen to provide herself a distraction. Her eyes catch on a peculiar looking item and she points. She says nothing, already feeling the weight of your gaze as it follows her finger. She turns back to you when you snort, finding you nearly hacking out a lung.
âWrong way,â you manage between coughs. Sevika has the decency to thump your back until youâre better. You clear your throat and return to the subject at hand. âItâs a pig mortar made from volcanic rock.â
She arches an eyebrow but nods. âSounds expensive.â Itâs more a question than a statement as she fails to find anything else to say.
Nodding, you answer with a chuckled, âIt was, but itâs worth it.â You tilt your head. âYou got one, chef?â
Sevika allows a small smile, close-lipped as opposed to the grin she sported when she was cleaning you up. âI do.â She gestures to your now empty bowl. âHad to grind a few things into a paste. Took time.â She folds her arms on the table and leans forward, eyes locked on the tub of soup. âIt was a bitch to make. Canât leave the paste too long or itâll get bitter. And I used my last bit of toor dhal for you.â
Thereâs a beat of silence where Sevika pretends to still be surveying your kitchen and like sheâs not aware of your staring. It isnât long before you speak again. âWhyâd you make it?â you ask softly, mirroring her and folding your arms on the table, leaning forward. âIf it was so hard?â
She finally turns back to you, meeting your gaze unflinchingly even if all she wants to do is hide. âYouâre sick,â she states plainly.
You tilt your head. âIâm grown. Responsible for myself. Capable. You didnât have to go through the trouble.â
âYouâre no trouble.â Before you can retort, she picks through the bag sheâd brought the soup in, producing a few packs of nasal strips, a bottle of nasal spray, cold syrups, and several packets of different vitamins. âThought you could use these, too.â
The next smile you give her is softer than sheâs used to, a touch too knowing, and she instantly pours you the adult serving size for the syrup. âI got you the night ones so you can sleep yourself through it.â
You nod and take the small cup, downing it with a grimace. âGods, I hope these work,â you mumble as you firmly press down on the nasal strips youâve already applied.
âEven if theyâre shit, I canât return âem,â Sevika snorts as she stands, pouring you only a ladle full of rasam to wash away the medicinal taste. When youâre done, she washes it and the spoon before putting away the soup. âYou should get to bed.â
You stand to your feet, a bottle of cold syrup in one hand as you tuck away the strips and spray into a pocket of your muumuu. âIâll walk you out.â
âDonât worry about me.â She collects the balled up wad of snot between pinched fingers and tosses it in the trash to then take a disinfectant wipe to the table. You watch with raised brows but say nothing, silently jotting down every little thing sheâs done for you in the past hour sheâs been here.
âI wonât be at work for a while.â
âI figured.â She tosses the wipes before getting into your space, pushing you towards your room. âGot someone to take your shifts?â
You nod, climbing into bed. âJinx wanted to try her hand at waitressing.â You rearrange your blankets to cover your legs, the mattress dipping when Sevika sits on its edge. âCaitlynâs on damage control for that one.â
Sevika snorts and watches as you finally lay down. âYou gonna be alright?â she murmurs, palm encasing your jaw to ensure your attentionâs on her when itâs clear youâre starting to drift.
Drowsily, you nod and pitch further into the warmth of her hand, disregarding the several beats her heart skips over. âMhmâŚâ
She hesitates for only a moment before nodding, standing with only a wince at the loud creaking of the mattress. âIâll lock up.â Youâve already dropped to sleep and she goes unheard. She lingers before finally retreating.
When you eventually get back to work, itâs as if nothing happened. Well, thatâs not quite true. Sevika tends to catch you looking more and, as opposed to before, you donât immediately turn away. You meet her eyes, unashamed, and only smile after having your fill. She doesnât address it, but neither do you. She was content to leave it at that despite feeling ridiculous to be as old as she is and running in circles the way she does. That is until she finds herself staring back at a giant unblinking turtle made of volcanic rock amongst a mess of bubble wrap and tape, a pestle of the same material rocking to a stop within its concave shell. It came with a note sheâs yet to read, still reeling from seeing it sitting so innocently but ginormously in the box it was sent in.
She doesnât know what quite moves her, but her hand tightens around her car keys and sheâs soon out the door on the way to yours.
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Somehow decided that im gonna go to grad school bc I want to get all of my education done at once before the education system is further ruined (more so than already)
Hey diva I really love your work especially the fluffy/silly Sevika stuff đ¤ Could I request you make a fluffy fic of Sevika x chronically ill reader? Iâm a cane user and I have an autoimmune condition and Iâm in a pretty bad flare rn so reading something like that would be super comfortingâ¤ď¸âđŠš
Hey sweet darling, forgive me for taking so long. â¤ď¸â𩹠I hope you love it as much as I loved writing itđŤśđť how are you doing ? are you feeling better lately or is it still pretty bad ?
âDomestic, thatâs the word. (sevika x chronically ill reader)
Youâre not sure when it started.
When Sevika stopped being the intimidating coworker with the sharp mouth and became the person who always has your coffee ready before you can even reach for the pot.
Somewhere between shared lunch breaks and late drives home, the line blurred.
She doesnât hover; thatâs the thing.
When you stand, cane in hand, Sevika doesnât rush in like youâre porcelain. She just shifts her chair back, rises too, and falls into step beside you⌠A shadow without pressure. A presence you can lean on if you want to, but never one that assumes you will.
âNeed a ride tonight?â she asks, not looking up from stirring sugar into her mug. Her voice is low, casual, like the answer doesnât matter either way, even though you know sheâll take you regardless.
You huff a little laugh. âYou always ask like youâre gonna say no if I say yes just to annoy me.â
Her mouth quirks at the corner. Not a smile, not exactly. More like the suggestion of one. âWell. Keeps you humble.â
Domestic. Thatâs the word for it.
Sitting across from her at the staff table, trading sips of coffee.
Domestic, like itâs the most natural thing in the world to slide into her passenger seat and let her grumble about your boss.
Itâs not love. Not yet⌠But it feels a lot like standing on the edge of it, and Sevika, without ever saying a word, makes it seem like sheâs right there with you.
But it does look like love because everyone tease you guy about it anyway.
You and Sevika always take your breaks together now. She always pours your coffee before her own. She always stands when you stand, walks when you walk, like itâs muscle memory.
And everyone has noticed. Of course.
âMarried couple energy,â one of your coworkers mutters under their breath when Sevika hands you half of her sandwich without being asked.
You shoot them a glare, cheeks warm. Sevika just arches a brow, as if daring anyone to comment louder. No one does.
Later, when youâre both sorting documents, one of the newer hires grins. âSo how long have you two been⌠you know?â
You blink. âBeen what?â
âDating.â
You nearly choke on your laugh. âWeâre not dating.â
The kid looks between you and Sevika, unconvinced. Sevika just smirks, muttering, âoh, couldâve fooled me.â
The teasing follows you out of the break room, clinging to the edges of your thoughts.
Especially when you and Sevika end up at that corner cafĂŠ the next morning, sitting across from each other with muffins and sweet coffee, talking like youâve done this a thousand times before.
Because at some point, while driving you home the day before, she asked with her eyes on the road; âyou free friday morning ?â
You hummed, shifting in your seat. âDepends. Why?â
âThought we could grab breakfast. Somewhere thatâs not the break room.â She paused like she was testing the words, like it was casual, but the weight in her voice betrayed her.
You smiled, soft and tired. âThat your way of asking me out?â
Her lips twitched, eyes still on the road. âMaybe.â
Itâs easy. Too easy.
Sheâs got this gruff, steady way of listening, leaning back in her chair, big hand curled around her mug, eyes on you like youâre saying something worth hearing.
And when you laugh at something stupid she says, her mouth does this twitchy almost-smile that makes your stomach flip.
You tease her about it, of course. âHey, if you keep looking at me like that, people are gonna think weâre in love.â
She doesnât even flinch. Just takes a slow sip of her coffee and mutters, âPeople already think that.â
Itâs meant to be a throwaway line, but the way her gaze lingers a second too long makes your pulse skip. Because itâs true, everyone does.
And maybe the craziest part is that neither of you has ever bothered to correct them.
And of course, some days are harder than others.
It sneaks up on you in waves, the way your body keeps the score of the day.
By the last hour of your shift, sometimes your joints are screaming louder than the clatter of plates, and the thought of standing one more minute feels impossible.
You press harder into your cane, jaw tight, but Sevika notices. She always does.
She doesnât comment, doesnât ask. Just steps closer, shoulder brushing yours, like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
And when you let your hand drift to her arm, steadying yourself against her warmth, she doesnât flinch or stiffen. She just keeps talking, low and easy, about the music overhead or that client who had ugly shoes, like nothing has changed at all.
Later, when you sink into a chair in the back, cane resting across your lap, you expect her to go about closing tasks.
Instead, she drops into the seat beside you, stretches her long legs out, and starts complaining about your bossâ again.
She really doesnât like him.
No pity. No hovering. Just her usual gruff humor, grounding you in the familiarity of it.
âSorry,â you mutter after a while, voice almost casual but low. âYou donât have to sit here with me.â
She cuts you a look, sharp enough to make your chest tight. âoh, Iâm suffering right now.â
You canât help laughing, even through the ache. âYeah, okay.â
She shifts just enough that your knee brushes against hers, casual but deliberate. âQuit apologizing. Iâm right where I want to be.â
And she says it so offhand, so steady, that it takes you a beat to realize the weight behind it.
Because when you lean a little heavier into her, your fingers curling lightly into the solid muscle of her shoulder, she doesnât just take it, she anchors you, like sheâs been waiting for you to trust her with that weight.
Itâs not about fragility. It never is with Sevika.
Itâs about presence.
About how, with her, you donât have to carry everything alone.