Kakashi sighs and endures this torture via his grand daughter as he is wearing prince outfit with make up and hair bows while Sadara is in kid version of his anbu vest and his actual hound mask tied on the side of her head. â..Sakura..please donât let her paint my nails sweet heart.â He is about 51 only partially blind he can still see a bit out his sharingan his other eye completely blind tho.
Sakura is just about done in the kitchen when she heard him speak. Carefully placing the last kuri dorayaki she has painstakingly prepared for tea time while wearing a gentle smile on her lips, green eyes filled with tenderness.
" Heh. You know it is impossible to convince her otherwise once she sets her mind to it, ne, Baba? And I am pretty sure, you have an idea where she got that trait from, " Sakura emerges from the kitchen holding the plate filled with snacks. Gently, she places the plate in front of the duo still trying to finish dressing up before joining the trick or treaters roaming around the Village in the afternoon. And as soon as her eyes befall upon the pair, Sakura let out a chuckle.
" Sarada, my, you are so pretty! " she exclaimed, her heart filled with joy seeing her daughter in Kakashi's old clothing. But at the same time, tugging her heartstrings slightly, upon a realisation.
That at this age, Kakashi's hands have been soaked with real blood. Something she would like to shield her daughter from at all cost if she can help it.
Trying to fight the sombre mood gradually filling her, she diverted her attention to Kakashi, now in his princely garments. And he would've looked so regal if not for the pink and red bows adorning his grey hair nor the makeup carelessly painted around his face.
She has to check the makeup purse she lent Sarada later.
" It seems she tricked you already... " she sighed before giggling over the fact Kakashi has let Sarada get her way with her mischief, again.
Oh my god! I am so sorry for not getting done faster. I had so many tests and assignments due for as soon as the break ended and this got pushed to the side sadly. I hope you enjoy @shipperwithdreams :) Â (This is the @pjosecretsanta2016 thang)
It was always cold. Be it morning, noon, or dusk. The snow didnât let up and neither did the frost. Only three cars had passed in the street and the morning seemed to be in a slumber. Which was fine. The furnace was going strong and the blankets kept things comfortable. Not to forget that hot chocolate was always waiting in the kitchen. Mornings were peaceful in winter. The snow providing a barrier between the world and the small apartment. Time seemed to melt. Which was fine.
Percy lay in bed. The window behind him shone soft white light onto his features. It highlighted the grey streak in his hair and caught on the light scars lining his skin. Annabeth struggled not to reach out and touch him. To make sure that he was really there and with her. To make sure she hadnât dreamt finding him. She resisted but didnât move her gaze. There was something altogether calming about this moment. There was nothing waiting in the shadows to test their luck at another day. There was only Percy, Annabeth, and morning silence.
She couldâve laid there forever. Bathing the warmth of the moment she wished to stay. Just keeping watch and keeping warm. But, she cautiously removed the comforter from herself and replaces it around the drooling figure. The hardwood was glacier against her feet, but she couldnât help to stop for a moment. She smiled toward Percy and exited the room.
The kitchen was stale and cold as she entered. Immediately Annabeth flicked on the kettle. She readied a mug before searching the apartment for her robe. It took no time to retrieve it and quickly shove her arms into the sleeves.
From the kitchen, a high screech echoed. Annabeth pivoted to face the noise. The kettle, she realised, was the source. Forcing the creaking ice in her spine away, she strode to turn it off. The squealing was cut off sharp. Silence returned to the space. Annabeth glanced back at the bedroom. Hopefully, Percy was deep enough in sleep not to have woken. She smirked, Percy hated mornings. Maybe this morning he would stay sleeping long enough for her to bring him breakfast in bed.
The problem with that plan was that Annabeth burnt any breakfast she attempted to make. A toast was fine, along with smoothies. Trying anything but those two options turned disastrous for the consumer. Percy had once tried to suffer through pancakes and ended up laying by the toilet for hours.
She thought about what to cook as she poured her tea. Simultaneously, making a coffee for her drooling sleeping beauty. Annabeth leant against the counter. Smoothies were too loud and would only wake Percy. There was no bread so toast was an easy no. If the yogurt in the fridge was still good then maybe she could pretend to have cooked by putting fresh blueberries into it.
Annabeth stole her attention away from the fridge to finish Percyâs coffee. She held the mug between her palms and let it heat them. She felt altogether calm and satisfied. Usually, mornings were full of noise and a rush. Neither Annabeth or Percy were morning birds so they always struggled to arrive anywhere on time before noon. It was a miracle that they got out of bed some mornings. Annabeth grinned, she had sworn to herself that one day they wouldnât have to rush anywhere. That they would be able to relax and just live. Not even Hera could stop her this time.
âThat coffee?â Arms curled around her and Percy weighed his head on her shoulder.
She hummed and passed the mug. He didnât take it but continued to burrow his eyes into her shoulder.
âWhy are we out of bed? We donât have to do anything.â His words were mumbled and Annabeth huffed at how he sounded.
âItâs almost 10, Percy.â She leaned her head against his.
â2 more hours.â He whined and pulled her closer.
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. It was lukewarm, but she didnât notice. They stayed there. Standing against one another. The air stilled and all noise died. All Annabeth knew was this moment and Percyâs breath warming her pyjamas.
âThis,â she thought, âis what Elysium must feel like.â
âDo you want me to make pancakes?â Percy lifted his head to ask.
Annabeth looked at the closed cupboards and wondered if they even had any ingredients for pancakes. She couldnât remember the last time they braved the cold to run to the store.
âI think we only have yogurt left. We need to restock today.â
Her tea was completely cold now, but she still drank it with a grimace on her face. She nudged Percyâs arm and passed him his coffee. He groaned, unwrapping himself from behind her to steal the mug and lean against the counter.
His hair stuck straight up on one side and there were still pink lines on his face from sleep. His eyes didnât open more than half and they continuously fluttered open and closed. There was dried drool in one corner of his mouth. His shoulders rolled forward sleepily and he looked completely like a lazy fat cat. She gently mashes her lips to his cheek.
He grinned, âWhat was that for?â
She returned the expression, âYouâre cute in the morning.â
A gleam shined across his eyes as he looked at her. His hand found hers and suddenly the skies were lifted from her shoulders. She could breathe again.
It was always cold. Yet, with Percy it never reached her. The world was always against them. But it was fine. It would be fine because she would always find him again. It was always cold. But it was fine. Percy was warm and she was happy. It was fine.
Honestly, this ride can't possibly be more awful than it already is.  Back to Hogwarts.  Normally, just that one sentence would be a cause for celebration. A 'thank Merlin' type of moment, and Lily figured that once they actually got there, it would be. Currently sitting facing her brother, she moved her eyes to the window and tried to admire the scenery. One of her favorite parts of Hogwarts was the actual train ride over. Getting to see the amazing views, getting to see her friends after a long holiday, and not to mention the sweets. Normally her and Chip would spend galleons on sweets, ranging ever variety, and eating until their stomach's popped.
This year, however, seemed to be starting off completely wrong. Chip and her weren't on speaking terms, she didn't have the energy to go off and find her friends, and to make matters worse, she'd boarded with a splitting headache. It was one of those moments where all a person wishes is that they could speed up time, and get the hell out of where they are. So they sat, until finally the train rolled in and the instant relief that swelled through her didn't escape notice. Hardly a moment after they pulled to a stop, Charlie bolted out of her seat and Lily was left alone again. Why he hadn't bothered to leave during the entirety of the trip, she had no idea.Â
The ride up to the castle, sorting, and Headmaster's speech, could only be described in one word. A blur. A complete and utter blur. Sure, a few people had caught her attention to say 'hi' or ask how she'd spent the summer holiday. But between the anxiety of fighting with her brother, and her ever increasing headache, Lily could hardly take notice of them.Â
Before she knew it, she was surrounded by her fellow Hufflepuff's and walking down towards the kitchen. Lily felt Aurora slip her arm into the crook of her elbow and let out a small smile for the chipper girl. They made their way through the corridors and past the barrels that hid the Hufflepuff common room.Â
Making her way up to her dorm, Lily offered a polite greeting to her roommates before offering the excuse of a headache, and plopped down on her bed of the past five years. It's good to be home.Â
