Ten ways to please your lover.
Hold her hand in public. Ignore the looks.
Kiss her in public in most decidedly not fatherly way when the waitress is silly enough to refer to us as father and daughter.
Carry her piggy back home from long days on the town. Ignore the looks.
Eat ice cream with her in public.
Let her wear the pink lace and ribbon number once.
Never give up without a fight
Don’t call her Bella bambina anymore.
Hold her for no reason. Don’t let go till she does.
Use the terms “we,” and “us” when referring to future events. Mean it.
Ask her to marry you.
Title: Precious
Rating: PG for infanticide and suicide references
Summary: Nashira Burke wonders where happily ever afters went and why he didn’t look back.
Author's note: Not quite a gift for Malfoytake_two but character development nonetheless.
Twenty facts about your muse that we may not be aware of. (If this is a canon character it can be twenty facts based on your personal fanon for the muse)
In the village of Kilgory, there's a maiden young and fair
Her eyes they shine like diamonds, she has long and golden hair
But the countryman comes riding, rides up to her father's gates
Riding on a milk-white stallion, he comes at the strike of eight.
Chorus:
Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
Step it out, mary, if you can
Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter
Show your legs to the countryman
I have come to court your daughter, Mary of the golden hair
I have gold and I have silver, I have goods beyond compare
I will buy her silks and satin and a gold ring for her hand
I will buy for her a mansion, she'll have servants to command
I don't want your gold and silver, I don't want your house and land
I am going with a soldier, I have promised him my hand
But the father spoke up sharply: You will do as you are told,
You'll get married on the Sunday and you'll wear that ring of gold
In the village of Kilgory there's a deep stream flowing by
On her marriage day at midnight she drowned with her soldier boy
In the cottage there is music, you can hear her father say:
Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter, Sunday is your wedding day.
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