#(which is what we used to call the raggy bits at the heel that soaked up all the water around you haha)

[twnj]

Re-draw of my first sketch from this fic. I cannot find the post.

'Elbows on the wooden surface, Shikamaru leaned forward, pathetically gesticulating floppy fingers as he spoke to the barman. His sharp nose jutted out of his profile, reddened with what seemed to be sunburn, and a little ball of hair sat knotted at the base of his neck. Stray hairs, not long enough to reach the hair-tie holding it in place, fell out to frame his face and ears, and below the little silver hoops in them hung a small pair of orange-padded earphones. Their colour was striking against his pale skin and dark hair, and Temari followed their cord down to his jacket pocket, where it disappeared entirely.

[...]

As quickly as it had hit her, the image of the little boy faded, and in its place stood a man: a fully grown man ordering a drink at a bar and plucking a cigarette from the pocket where his headphone cord disappeared. [...]

Shikamaru had grown up. When exactly, she couldn’t pinpoint — maybe when his father had died, maybe during their first night in Rome, or perhaps even before — but the fact remained that he had. There was stubble on his chin, stubble that was neither patchy nor short enough to suggest he’d just forgotten to shave.'

Grandmaster ao3 by @notquitejiraiya