#at night he sings to him a lullaby as he plays with the soft locks of his hair and kisses his forehead pretending Lleu is only sleeping

[brotherslayer]

There are versions of the myth where Lleu Llaw almost dies but is brought back by his uncle, do you think if he did die his brother would stow his body away at the bottom of the sea? Like "Well I don't trust anyone up on land, clearly this is the safest place for him to be♡♡♡"

he'd move heaven and hell to bring his dearest brother back into the land of the living!

[anniebeemine]

isn't that sweet?*- s.r. x fem!reader

i’m working late, 'cause i’m a singer

warnings: oral sex (fem. receiving), slight voyeurism

The studio was dimly lit, the soft glow of the mixing board casting long shadows against the walls. You stood in the recording booth, headphones snug against your ears, adjusting the mic one last time as you prepared to lay down another track. This album was different—more personal, more intimate than anything you’d ever done before. And that was because of him.

Spencer sat on the other side of the glass, his gaze fixed on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, finding your rhythm before the music began. He was seated next to your producer, who was quietly conversing with the sound engineer, but Spencer’s focus never wavered. His presence was constant, steady and comforting, as you prepared to pour your heart into the microphone.

This album was a reflection of your life over the past year—every song, every lyric, a piece of the story you shared with Spencer. From the first tentative dates where you both stumbled over your words, nervous and unsure, to the quiet nights spent curled up on the couch, watching old movies, your heads resting against each other. Those memories, those moments, were what fueled your creativity.

You’d written about the way his fingers intertwined with yours during a late-night walk, how he always made you feel like the only person in the world when he looked at you. The way his eyes would light up whenever he got lost in a ramble, explaining some obscure fact or statistic with a passion that made your heart swell.

And then there were the nights where the world outside ceased to exist—the ones where you’d stay tangled in bed long after the sun had risen, whispering secrets and sweet nothings, your bodies and souls completely intertwined. The songs that emerged from those moments were the most vulnerable, the ones that spoke of love in its rawest, most passionate form. They were the songs that made you blush when you sang them, knowing that each note and word was a reflection of the intimacy you shared with him.

As the instrumental intro played through your headphones, you closed your eyes, letting the music wash over you. The melody was soft, almost dreamy, and you knew it would resonate with Spencer. It was the same melody you had hummed absentmindedly during one of your many nights in, the sound lulling him to sleep as you played with his hair.

You started to sing, your voice soft and controlled, carrying the emotion of the lyrics. The song was about a specific night—a night where time seemed to slow, and every touch, every whisper, felt like it was magnified. You had written it as a lullaby of sorts, a tribute to the quiet, peaceful moments you’d shared, the ones that felt like a sanctuary from the world.

The song came to an end, and you let the last note linger in the air before you pulled the headphones off, stepping away from the mic. The room was silent for a moment, the weight of what you’d just recorded settling over everyone.

Your producer leaned forward, a look of approval on his face. “That was perfect. I think we’ve got it.”

You gave a small, relieved smile, but you didn’t move from where you stood. The producer and sound engineer began gathering their things, the producer casting a knowing glance between you and Spencer. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Just lock up when you’re done,” he said. “Goodnight.” 

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving you and Spencer alone. The silence stretched on for a moment before Spencer pushed the button on the console to speak through the speakers into the booth.

“Is there something else you want to record?” he asked, his voice gentle but curious.

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the edge of the mic stand as you looked at him through the glass. “There is… but I’m really embarrassed to do it in front of other people,” you admitted, your voice just above a whisper, even though you knew he could hear you clearly.

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly. “Embarrassed? Why?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s… it’s a song I wrote. It’s about… well, about us. Specifically, about our… sex life.” You could feel your face heat up as you spoke, averting your eyes to the floor. “My producer suggested adding some… um, moans in the background, but it’s really awkward to do it in front of anyone else.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly composed himself, understanding washing over his features. “So… you want me to stay and just press record and stop for you?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief at his understanding. “Yeah. I can’t do it with them here, but… I trust you. It’s just, every time I try, it either comes out flat or too breathy. I’m too in my head.”

Spencer’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

He walked over to the console, settling into the chair that the sound engineer had vacated, his fingers hovering over the controls. You adjusted the mic, closing your eyes for a moment to collect yourself before you spoke again. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Spencer pressed the record button, and you began. The first few attempts were rough, your voice coming out boring and flat, lacking the emotion you wanted to convey. Each time, you stopped, shaking your head, frustration building as you couldn’t quite get it right. Spencer patiently stopped the recording each time, offering you encouraging smiles, but the tension was mounting. After a few more failed tries, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous giggle, breaking the tension in the room. 

“This is so awkward,” you admitted, laughing softly as you looked at Spencer, who chuckled along with you.

“You’re overthinking it,” Spencer said, his voice warm and reassuring. “Just relax. I’ll even turn around.” 

You nodded, appreciating his understanding, and tried again. But this time, the frustration only grew. The sounds were either too forced or completely flat, and each attempt left you feeling more and more tense. Finally, you let out a groan of frustration, stepping out of the booth to grab a bottle of water, trying to unwind.

Spencer watched you as you sipped the water, his eyes thoughtful. “I think I know a way to help you get authentic moans,” he said after a moment, his voice low and careful.

You blinked at him, trying to piece together what he was suggesting. At first, you were hesitant, not quite believing what he was implying. But the way he looked at you, his eyes full of that familiar warmth and affection, made it clear. He was serious.

“Spence…” you started, your voice trailing off as you considered it.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “There are no cameras in here,” he reminded you, his voice soft. “And I’ll be very, very quiet.”

You felt your heart race as his words hung in the air, a mix of nervous excitement bubbling up inside you. Before you could respond, Spencer leaned in, his lips gently brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The heat of his touch, the familiar taste of his lips, sent a shiver down your spine.

His kisses grew deeper, more insistent as he pressed closer, his hands finding their way to your waist. You could feel his breath against your skin as he began trailing kisses down your neck, his lips soft and deliberate. Each kiss left a trail of warmth in its wake, a persuasive argument in itself.

“Spence,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as he reached a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. The sensation made your knees weak, and you found yourself leaning into him, craving more of his touch.

His hands moved up to cradle your face, tilting your head slightly to give him better access to your neck. “Just relax,” he murmured between kisses, his voice a low, soothing rumble that vibrated against your skin. “Let me help you.”

His lips continued their journey, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck, sending waves of heat through your body. With each kiss, he was chipping away at your hesitation, replacing it with something far more potent: desire.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his mouth on your skin, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. It was impossible to think about anything else, the world outside the booth fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped up in this moment.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly, his voice a tender caress.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The nervousness was still there, but it was tempered by the undeniable pull you felt toward him. “I think… I think I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Spencer smiled, his hands gently squeezing your waist in encouragement. “Good,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. “I have an idea.”

You watched, curious, as he moved around the room, grabbing a few of the equipment boxes stacked nearby. He brought them into the recording booth, carefully setting them up beneath the microphone. You followed him inside, your heart racing as you tried to piece together what he was doing. It wasn’t until he started arranging the boxes like a makeshift seat that you began to realize his plan. Your eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned on you—he was setting up a throne for you, right beneath the microphone.

Your mouth went dry as you processed the implications, your body buzzing with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Spencer was always full of surprises, but this...this was something else entirely.

He caught your expression and gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Trust me,” he said, his voice low and soothing. With a practiced ease, he shrugged off his cardigan, folding it neatly before draping it over the makeshift seat. He looked at you, his gaze warm and steady, before gently guiding you to sit down.

You hesitated for a moment, the intimacy of the situation sending a flush of heat through you, ending right at your core. You clench around nothing. But the way Spencer looked at you, the quiet confidence in his eyes, made it impossible to resist. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the makeshift throne, the softness of his cardigan cushioning you.

Spencer knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you. The sight of him there, gazing at you with such intensity, made your breath hitch. He gently parted your legs, his hands warm against your skin as he settled himself between your thighs.

“I want you to focus on the sensations,” he murmured, his voice like velvet. “Forget everything else. Just think about us.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against your inner thigh. The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine, your entire body attuned to his every movement. You felt his fingers loop around the sides of your underwear, pulling them down. 

“Aren’t you glad you wore a skirt?” He teased. 

You nod, closing your eyes to hopefully forget the fact that you’re in your workplace and anyone could walk in at any moment. Spencer kissed your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider. You can feel the cool air run over you and your soaked core. His tongue traced a line along your folds. You gasped, writhing beneath him. Spencer wastes no time in using his hands, circling a finger around your entrance as his lips find your clit. He wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking lightly. 

You moan lowly, your fingers finding his hair to give him a harsh tug. He looks up at you, relishing in the way your eyes are screwed shut, little pants leaving your lips. He lets his fingers slide into your pussy, pumping slowly as he kitten licks at your clit. 

“Fuck.” 

He smiled against your cunt and you just know that he’s come up with some cocky comment that he’s dying to say. You finally open your eyes and almost cum at the dazed look in his eyes. The hand that was on your thigh came up to cup your breast, sliding his way under your shirt. Spencer’s eyebrows perk when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. 

You wink at him, a smug smile forming on your lips. He pushes his fingers deeper. The action makes your thighs flinch, closing in on him for a moment before you relax again. Spencer hums against you, his lips sucking generously at your clit before his tongue massaged it in teasing little circles.

Spencer continued his relentless, expert pace, every flick of his tongue and gentle suck driving you closer to the brink. The sound that escaped your lips was a soft moan, barely more than a whisper, but it filled the recording booth with a delicate echo that made Spencer smile against you.

As his tongue circled and teased, the moan grew into a breathier, more desperate sound. “Spence,” you panted, the word tumbling out in a ragged exhale. Your hands clutched at his hair, urging him on, your breath catching in your throat as he continued.

The next moan was louder, more drawn out, vibrating with the tension building inside you. It was a sound of pure need, of surrender, and Spencer relished every note of it. The intensity of what he was doing made you lose all sense of composure; your breaths came quicker, more shallow, and each exhale carried a gasp, a whimper, a plea.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice trembling as he pushed you further, his name falling from your lips again and again. Every moan, every pant was a symphony of rising desperation, a crescendo of need that you couldn’t hold back.

Your back arched involuntarily, pressing yourself closer to him, and the moans turned into broken cries, the kind that left your throat raw. “Spence, I—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, the words lost in a strangled moan that was half sob, half ecstasy.

The sounds coming from you were almost primal now, a mixture of keening whimpers and breathless pants, each one more desperate than the last. You were close—so close—and it showed in every pant, every strained moan that escaped your trembling lips.

And Spencer kept going, his own breath coming in short, heated bursts as he listened to every sound you made, each one spurring him on, relishing the way he was drawing these noises from you. It was like music to his ears, a melody he never wanted to end, as your moans grew louder, more frantic, until you finally tumbled over the edge, your voice breaking in a long, shuddering cry of release.

Spencer sat back, a smug grin playing at the corners of his lips as he wiped his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. He started to rise, heading toward the control panel. “I’m going to hit record. I’ll be back in a second.”

You blinked, still catching your breath, and reached out to stop him. “Wait… you didn’t already record that?”

He turned to you, that same smug smile deepening. “Of course not,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “A good vocalist always warms up first.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re something else, Spencer Reid.”

He leaned in, his voice low and dripping with confidence. “Besides,” he added, his tone playfully serious, “I think this next take is going to be a hit.”

And he was right.

When you showed Spencer the plaque for the double platinum record, his eyes lit up with pride. “So,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “are you going to give me writing credit for this?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I think we can keep that our little secret.”

[naffeclipse]

I HAVE THR GREATEST IDEA!! Raindeer centaur!Y/n with orca!Eclipse and she finds two calves of sun and moon raindeer centaurs and bring to eclipse how would he react??

Oh my gosh, Reindeer Centaur Y/N!! You'd have a thick, brown coat and velvet horns. Strong and stout, you traverse the ice and snow with a silent forbearance.

Eclipse sees you before you ever see him. He's immediately enamored by the beautiful centaur trotting around snowbanks—he has to see you up close! It takes patience, but he follows from the coast, and he's rewarded. He finds you. He introduces himself the only way he knows how.

You kneel at the water's edge, hooves folded underneath your body as you wash your hands in the thick salt. The taste warns you to not drink it, but it does well cleaning away the sweat and grime from constantly moving. You lower your hands, cupping a gentle handful to wash the fine, velveteen fur of your neck when you realize a face is staring at you from below the surface, grinning.

You slowly straighten where you sit and he follows, emerging from the water in soft splashes and a gleaming gaze. He sizes you up as if deciding where to take the bite first. You, calmly, regard him, and listen to his gushing of how beautiful and handsome you are! He flicks his tongue over his teeth when he tells his name. When you share your own, you study how his claws thrum against the ice and how intently he locks eyes with you.

He often calls you 'my dear' and adores touching your antlers and stroking your thick, velvet fur. You take your time letting him close. When you're not racing along the ocean shore, you'll watch Eclipse breach, showing off with grandiose splashes before he pops up to catch your reaction.

On one rare occasion, he convinces you to lie down on your side, four cervine legs sprawled out, and lay your head on his stomach. You're both quiet the sight, a centaur and a siren, sprawled close together, but you don't mind his claws petting through your hair and scratching between your antlers so long as he's gentle. He sings you lullabies that lull you to sleep (you swore you wouldn't drift away so easily but he had other plans.)

When you're ready, you stroke his head fins and touch his flukes. He's practically beaming under your interest and snowflake-soft palming. He melts when you allow him to press his cheek against the velveteen fur on your reindeer half. He's clingy, but you gradually settle into his constant touches and affectionate affirmations with your treasured time.

Later, much later, when you cross a field, and discover two small bodies with bumbling cervine legs struggling through the snow, you calmly take a calf of beige and buttery yellow colors, and the other, blue metal and silvery, under your arms. They're just old enough to hold themselves up. They bawl, not yet having found their words. The twins nuzzle into your fur. It's not a pretty picture—two abandoned centaur young, but it's nothing you and Eclipse can't handle.

He accepts them without hesitation as you thought he might. It's not a question of acceptance but a matter of finding the right manner in which to tend to the children. You gently point out to Eclipse how the nub markings show how the buttery-yellow babe will have horns like a blossom of petals or a fan of sun rays, and the blue metal babe will have a singular horn like a shooting star or the crescent curve of the waning moon.

(He names them Sun and Moon, and you agree; it fits them fine.)

Eclipse watches over the three of you at night, quietly lapping at the ice's edge while you hold the babies close and provide them with warmth. (Eclipse laughs when the babes attempt to suckle on you, much to your bemusement.) During the day, he stows away though never too far and you find good moss and ferns that Sun and Moon can nibble on. You watch over them, minding predators and coaxing them to stabilize their gangly legs and hold themselves high. Evening falls, and you reunite. Eclipse plays with them tenderly, keeping them from falling into the sea but stimulating them to build their strength and their mind. They take to you both, much to your silent fondness. It's an odd little sight, but you're a family.

You wouldn't have chosen any other.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

London Experiences.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - don’t ask me why this idea randomly came into my head because even i don’t have a reason 🤷‍♀️

word count - 2.7k

in which, whilst walking around the streets of london with your fiancé harry and two year old daughter mila whose currently getting her molars growing in, things appear to be going swell until a fan asks for a photo and your little one has to be disturbed.

Having a day off between shows always meant that during that day you got to relax and have a chill day.

But that wasn’t possible when you had a two-year-old who couldn’t stay at home and cuddle on the sofa, no, she always had to do something, whether that was colouring, playing with her toys or acting cheeky towards you and her father.

A couple of nights ago, your two year old Mila had been showing signs of teething, which meant that her molars would soon be growing in, that meant sleepless nights would soon be flowing through your London townhouse.

And the first sleepless night took place last night although it wasn’t until early evening that she started feeling the growing pains.

It really picked up last night when Harry was on stage, and you were sitting in his dressing room, trying to soothe the painful cries of your little one.

You sit nervously in your fiancé dressing room at Wembley, the sound of his electrifying performance of Kiwi echoing faintly through the walls. The room is filled with the faint scent of excitement and the remnants of his cologne.

Mila, sits in your lap, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. Her teething pains have taken hold, and no matter what you do, her cries seem to intensify.

You try to comfort her, rocking her gently and singing soft lullabies.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay. Mama's here," you whisper, your voice filled with love and concern. But Mila's tiny face scrunches up even more, her cries reaching new heights. It breaks your heart to see her in such distress.

Mila's cries grow louder, and through her tears, she manages to utter a few words.

“Gums... hurt," she sniffles, her voice filled with pain.

Desperate to ease her discomfort, you remember the frozen teething toy you placed in the mini fridge earlier. You gently place Mila on the sofa, assuring her you'll be back in a moment. Rushing to the fridge, you retrieve the cold toy, hoping it will bring her some relief.

Returning to the sofa, you find Mila still crying, her big teary eyes searching for you. You quickly hand her the teething toy, the coldness soothing her tender gums. She clutches it tightly, her cries lessening slightly. You sigh with a mix of relief and exhaustion, sitting back down on the sofa, cradling your daughter in your arms.

Time seems to blur as Mila's cries persist. The adrenaline that propelled Harry through his performance gradually dissipates as he enters the dressing room, his face still flushed with the euphoria of the stage.

He freezes in his tracks when he sees the two of you, his brows furrowing in concern.

He strides over, his steps purposeful yet gentle.

"What's the matter, love?" he asks, his voice filled with worry. His presence alone brings a sense of calm, and Mila's watery eyes lock onto him. She stretches her tiny arms out towards him, her silent plea for comfort.

You smile weakly at Harry, grateful for his arrival. "She's been teething all night. Her gums are really bothering her," you explain, your voice filled with exhaustion and a touch of frustration.

Harry's gaze softens as he sits down next to you on the sofa. "Hey, little one," he coos, his voice like honey. Mila's tears slowly subside as she reaches for him, her tiny fingers grasping his sequin jacket. Harry adjusts his position, making room for her on his lap.

He takes the frozen teething toy from Mila's hands and examines it.

"Do your gums hurt, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

Mila nods, her eyes still shimmering with tears. "Hurts," she mumbles, her voice small and vulnerable.

Harry's heart melts at her words, and he cradles her gently. "I know it hurts, darling. But Daddy's here now, and I'm going to make it better, okay?" he whispers, his voice filled with reassurance.

As Mila begins to suckle on the toy, her cries become intermittent, her pain slowly fading away. Harry continues to rock her back and forth, his soothing touch and loving presence bringing her the solace she craves.

"You're such a good dad, Harry," you say softly, your eyes welling up with tears of gratitude. "She always calms down when you're around."

A total daddy girl.

Whenever Mila was sick, she always seeked the comfort of her father, she always needed to be near him, as according to her two year old brain she gave the best cuddles and always requested to be with him and sometimes you could join in on the cuddle as well.

Harry's eyes meet yours, a-tender smile tugging at his lips.

“She knows I'll always be here for her, just like I'll always be here for you," he whispers, his voice filled with unwavering devotion.

You lean into Harry's side, feeling the weight of his love and support. The room falls into a comfortable silence as Mila snuggles against her father, finding solace in his presence.

After a while, Harry breaks the silence, his voice soft and filled with affection. "You're such a strong girl, m’l’angel. Daddy is so proud of you," he murmurs, gently stroking her hair.

Mila looks up at Harry, her eyes still watery but now filled with a glimmer of contentment. "Love dada," she says in her sweet, innocent voice.

Harry's heart swells with love as he replies, "I love you too, my little angel. Always and forever."

The teething hadn’t stopped there either.

All through the night you and Harry were up tending for her needs at your London townhouse, so much so that it got to around two in the morning and her pitiful sobs hadn’t eased so Harry scooped her up from her crib and brought her into your room and into the bed where the three of you snuggled up and tried to get as much sleep as you possibly could.

Gosh darn her teeth for letting her molars make an appearance.

It was a good thing that Harry didn’t have a show that evening because that means you didn’t have to do much during the day.

That was until Mila woke up from her slumber this morning and requested that she wanted to walk around London like you usually did when Harry had to be at Wembley early.

So here the three of you were, As you stroll hand in hand with your fiancé, down the enchanting streets of London, a sense of joy fills the air. The city pulses with energy, its rich history blending harmoniously with the vibrant present.

To cover up the bags that covered both your eyes and the ones of your lover, you both wore a pair of sunglasses, and the whole family wore a different coloured pleasing hoodie that Mila had chosen for you.

Whilst Harry wore a vibrant green, you had been told to wear a custom light blue hoodie, and then Mila chose for herself to wear a red one.

Harry cradles your two-year-old daughter in his arms, her tiny frame nestled against his chest as she peacefully slumbers. It was her idea to come on the walk, not that you and Harry were complaining because you liked going on family walks around the city you were in, and although London had been your home for the last few years you still got excited walking round its streets.

Her sleep had been far too affected last night for her to be able to stay awake during the day, so after your lunch in a small cage, she request Harry carry her and that was when her eyes closed and her soft breaths create a gentle rhythm, a sweet lullaby amidst the bustling sounds of the city.

You push the empty stroller along the cobblestone streets, its wheels gliding effortlessly over the pavement. The sun casts a warm glow, casting golden rays upon your path, illuminating the love that surrounds your little family.

"So, love, what do you think we should do for the rest of the day?" he asks, his voice laced with anticipation. "We've got this rare opportunity to explore, and I want to make the most of it."

You ponder for a moment, knowing that Harry's presence draws attention wherever he goes. “Well, how about we go for a wander? Maybe Mila will sleep a bit longer, and we can enjoy the city without interruptions."

Harry grins, his dimples deepening. "That sounds perfect. A leisurely stroll with you and our little snoozing beauty. Let's see where the day takes us.”

As you walk hand in hand, the warm sun envelops you both in a gentle embrace. You remark on the pleasant weather, how it seems to smile upon your special day together.

"Quite lucky with the weather today, aren't we?" you remark, casting a glance at Harry's attire—a casual hoodie that shields his iconic features.

You could tell that he was getting a bit sweaty due to the shine his nose currently inhabited.

He chuckles, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Ah, yes, the trusty hoodie. A necessary accessory for me when I want to go incognito."

You playfully nudge his side, a teasing smile on your lips. "Hiding from the paparazzi, are we? I guess it's the price of fame, huh?"

Harry grins, his green eyes twinkling. "Well, a little anonymity never hurt anyone. Plus, it lets me enjoy moments like this without attracting too much attention."

As you amble through the streets, you engage in light-hearted banter, pointing out interesting shops and admiring the architectural wonders of the city. Harry shares stories of past adventures and playful anecdotes from his career, his animated gestures drawing laughter from both of you.

From time to time, you steal glances at one another, your love for Harry growing with every step. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, hand in hand, exploring the hidden corners of London.

As you wander, the hours pass in a blissful haze. The bustling city feels like your own private haven, and your daughter continues to sleep soundly, undisturbed by the vibrant energy around her.

Harry leans in closer, his voice filled with contentment. "You know, love, days like these make me appreciate the beauty of simplicity. Just us, our daughter, and the world at our feet."

You nod, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Absolutely, Harry. It's these precious moments that remind us of what truly matters—love, family, and the joy of being together."

As you continue your leisurely walk through the bustling streets of London, a fan suddenly recognizes Harry and excitedly approaches the three of you.

You notice Harry's hesitance, knowing his desire to protect your daughter's privacy. Mila slumbers peacefully in his arms, unaware of the moment unfolding around her.

The fan's face lights up, a mix of joy and anticipation. "Harry, I'm such a huge fan! Could I please take a photo with you?"

There was always one.

Harry's gaze flickers to Mila, concern etched across his features. He glances at you, silently conveying his reservations. You understand his worry but also empathize with the fan's excitement.

Gently, you attempt to take Mila from Harry's arms, hoping to offer him the freedom to take the photo. However, as she wakes up and realizes she's no longer cradled against her father, she begins to cry, reaching out for him.

"Shh, sweetie," you whisper, your voice filled with reassurance. "Daddy just needs to take a quick photo, and then he'll be right back with us."

Mila's eyes well up with tears as she stretches her tiny arms back towards Harry. It breaks your heart to see her upset, but you know that sometimes, moments like these require compromise.

Harry's expression reflects his internal struggle. He wants to comfort Mila, to ensure her happiness, but he also understands the significance of connecting with his fans.

Kneeling down beside Mila, Harry gently brushes his fingers against her cheek. "It's okay, angel. Daddy will be right here. Just one quick photo, and then we'll be back together, I promise."

You take a deep breath, understanding the weight of the situation. "Mila, sweetheart, Daddy loves you so much. He wants to make everyone happy, just like he makes us happy. Can you be brave for a little while longer?"

Mila's cries begin to subside, and she looks at you with tear-filled eyes. Her small fingers reach out to touch Harry's face, as if seeking his reassurance. You exchange a glance with Harry, silently conveying the depth of your shared love and understanding.

With a hesitant nod, Harry turns back to the fan, who has been patiently waiting. A warm smile graces his lips as he poses for the photo, the fan beaming with delight. The moment is captured, a memory forever etched in their hearts.

As the fan thanks Harry and bids farewell, he returns to your side, scooping Mila back into his arms. She clings to him, her cries gradually fading away.

"You did so well, angel," Harry whispers, pressing a tender kiss to Mila's forehead. "I'm so proud of you."

You wrap your arm around Harry, offering support and comfort. The trio resumes their walk, Mila finding solace in the warmth of her father's embrace.

When the fan departes, you notice that Harry's usual radiant smile is somewhat subdued. His thoughts are consumed by Mila, his primary concern being her well-being. The encounter with the fan requesting a photo weighs heavily on his mind.

As fate would have it, the fan, oblivious to Harry's internal struggle, approaches once again, this time sheepishly asking if they can retake the photo. Excitement shines in their eyes, unaware of the impact their previous request had on Mila.

Harry's brows furrow slightly, his patience wearing thin. He takes a deep breath, his voice tinged with a hint of agitation. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we can take another photo. My daughter is still quite upset, and I don't really want to upset her again."

The fan's enthusiasm falters, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing their face. They quickly apologised, realising the unintended consequences of their request.

You place a reassuring hand on Harry's arm, silently communicating your support. It's clear to you that his priority lies in protecting Mila's well-being, even if it means disappointing a fan.

Harry turns to the fan, his voice filled with sincerity. "I appreciate your understanding. It's just important for me to prioritise my daughter's comfort. Thank you for being considerate."

The fan, humbled by Harry's response, nods appreciatively. "Of course, I completely understand. Family always comes first. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me."

With a warm smile, Harry bids the fan farewell, his focus now fully directed towards Mila. As the fan walks away, you feel a mixture of relief and pride in Harry's unwavering commitment to his daughter's happiness.

As you continue your journey through the streets, the weight of the encounter gradually lifts, replaced by a renewed sense of peace. Harry's smile slowly returns, genuine and heartfelt, as he immerses himself in the joy of simply being together with you and Mila.

You intertwine your fingers with Harry's, offering him reassurance and gratitude for his unwavering dedication to your family. Together, you create an unbreakable bond, built on love, trust, and the unwavering protection of the precious moments you share.

As the day winds down and the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow across the city, you find yourselves seeking solace in a nearby park. Harry sits on a bench, Mila cradled in his arms, while you settle beside him.

Mila's teary eyes gradually dry, and she gazes up at her father, a sense of adoration and security radiating from her. Harry's attention is fully devoted to her, and a soft smile graces his lips as he brushes his thumb against her cheek.

In this tranquil moment, amidst the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city, you realise that the true measure of a father's love lies not in the number of photos taken or the adoration of fans, but in the quiet, intimate moments where he selflessly puts his child's happiness above all else. And in that realisation , your love for Harry deepens, knowing that he will always protect and cherish your family with unwavering devotion.

[rockstarhaechan]

hellloooo love ur blog so much i need something for winwin from ur pen, u are so creative <3 have a nice day

wayv winwin headcanons

pairing: bf!winwin x gf!reader

warnings: fluff, public make out, winwin being whipped asf

note: get em wayv reqs <3 and thank you so so much <3

sicheng and you have been dating for a few years now but he still loves you like the first day he realized that he was in love with you.

all the times he got you flowers always being scared you wouldn’t like them.

oh how sicheng loves cuddling up on the couch with you, watching y’all’s favorite movie while playing with your hair.

there are days were you just want to cry, but sicheng holds you tightly, caressing your face as he promises you the world.

when he’s on tour you get flowers delivered to your door every day with a little note attached, mostly just him saying how much he loves and misses you.

“did you get the flowers?” he asks softly as he smiled at you through the phone screen, face lighting up when he saw you nod.

how sicheng would stay on facetime until you fell asleep and even then he would stay on call for as long as he could.

singing you lullabies almost every night, soft voice letting you fall asleep quickly.

making out with you in public whenever he gets jealous because some dude looked at you.

your bond with the rest of wayv is truly amazing, that’s what sicheng always said.

“lock the door carefully, i don’t want anyone else to know that you’re here” he whispered as he sneaked you into the dorm at night.

“sicheng, can we have dinner with my parents? they asked me if we could” you smiled at him, knowing he would never say no to you.

sometimes he brings you into the studio with him so he has you as his lucky charm.

“i love you, forever and always” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

[starneteyam]

SONG OF THE SEA ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Metkayina! Fem! Reader

🖇️ warn. None, fluff

🎥 In which Neteyam meets you at midnight and listens to your stories as an excuse to see you

A/N Just a short one shot, featuring the story of Davy Jones and Calypso bcs literally Davy Jones’ song breaks my heart

It was late at night, Jake putting out the fire as it was time to sleep. Neytiri sighed, looking around and noticing Tuktirey was gone, probably outside, playing by herself. “Neteyam, go get Tuk.” She ordered. He nodded his head, leaving the hut and walking outside, not seeing her in sight. He walked further away, hearing nothing but the sound of the ocean below him and the creatures crying. That is, until he heard a melody.

The voice was soft and beautiful, filling his ears as if a goddess were singing a lullaby The melody itself was enchanting and soft, but also somewhat sad. Ears twitching, he found himself being drawn towards the voice, and saw you sitting on the deck, your back turned towards him as you hummed. The leather below him creaked, and your ears flickered in caution as you spun around, gasping. You sighed. “Do not sneak up on me like that.” Letting out a distressed sigh.

“I am sorry.” He mumbled, still distracted by your beauty. Your eyes lingered on him, before you ushered him to sit next to you. “You are Neteyam, yes?” You asked, kicking your feet against the water as you looked at it. He sat next to you. “That is me. You are?” He had never seen you before, and he was honestly confused on why he hadn’t noticed you. You shrugged, laughing weakly. “I am nobody.” You told him.

He pursed his lips, before speaking again. “What was that song?” He asked, and you looked at him with confusion written on your face. “Hm?” You asked. He cleared his throat. “The song that you were humming, what is it?” You smiled.

“It is the Song of the Sea.” You told him, turning back to the open ocean. He stayed silent, urging you to continue. “It is a story of a pirate who fell in love with a sea goddess. She gives him the duty of ferrying those who died at sea to the next world.” You started, eyes flickering towards his.

“She promised him that after ten years, she will spend one day with him before he returns to his duties. But after ten years of being at sea, when he went ashore to meet her, she never arrived. He felt betrayed, and angry, and deep sorrow.” Your voice got softer, empathy seething through your words. You breathed in, and continued. “In return, he betrays her, and he teaches other pirates how to capture her and trap her into a human body so she cannot rule the sea. Even though he is angered and was lied to by the goddess, he felt guilt for what he had done, so he carved his heart out and locked it in a chest.” You turned to him.

“He tries to convince himself that he hates her, but he cannot. He is in love.” You said, smiling widely as you told the story. You then blinked, before clearing you throat. “It is a stupid child’s tale.” You whispered, embarrassed that you got excited about a folktale.

He leaned forward, shaking his head. “No, it is interesting.” He assured you. You looked at him with wide eyes, taken aback, before smiling sheepishly to yourself, your cheeks warming. Everybody always made fun of you for telling these stories, but he was actually listening.

“The song is their’s.” You explained, and he stared at you with awe. “Neteyam! Bro, where’s Tuk?” Lo’ak interrupted, but quickly shutting his mouth upon seeing him sitting with you. Neteyam quickly got up, blushing as he looked between you and his brother. “I’m right here!” Tuk said, running towards Lo’ak. Neteyam looked at you, frowning. “I must go.” He told you. You nodded, turning back towards the sea. “I understand.” You spoke, your words quiet.

He wanted to say more, to speak to you more, but he turned and left, getting punched in the arm by his little brother, who he hissed at.

The next day, at the same time as the day before, he came back, and there you were, humming once again. He tried to find you during the day, but he couldn’t find you at all. “Neteyam.” You smiled as you saw him, and his heart skipped a beat. You extended your hand for support to help him sit next to you, and he took it. “I want to hear the rest of the story.” He told you.

Days went on like that, where he would come and find you, and you would tell him many different stories of the sea. He grew more infatuated with you each and every time, the distance between you slowly decreasing. A couple of weeks later, you wouldn’t even talk, and you would just hum as you laid your head on his shoulder, not failing to notice how he was as stiff as a rock, nervous.

“I cannot believe he would betray her, even though he loved her. It is strange.” He scoffed, shaking his head. You looked up at him, and his breath hitched at how close your faces were. “Love makes you do strange things.” You murmured, and his eyes searched your face. The moonlight lit your face almost perfectly, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. He loved the way the corner of your lips would pull upwards whenever you saw him, or the way you softly hummed while tracing the lines on his palms. He loved you.

He subconsciously was leaning in, and his eyes fluttered shut as he placed his lips on yours, gently. Almost immediately, you kissed him back. You adjusted your body to turn towards his, a hand of his sneaking onto your face and cupping your jaw. All these years, you have been listening to love stories and songs and the wonders of it all; of how it makes your heart pump faster, or the way you would smile until your cheeks hurt, or the way your eyes searched for a flaw and could find nothing but perfection. You listened to them all, and now you had it.

He deepened the kiss, huffing through his nose as he furrowed his eyebrows. He slowly pulled away, his eyes switching between your left and right. God, you were beautiful. “You are strange, Neteyam.” You smiled shyly, looking down as you leaned into his palm. “It is your fault.” His deep voice rumbled through your ears, kissing you again.

[nanamikentoseyebags]

SONGS THEY MAKE LOVE TO YOU TO | JJK EDITION

SATORU GOJO - GET IT BY DANIEL CAESAR & KALI UCHIS

And when we're making love, uh

Your cries, they can be heard from far and wide

It's only the two of us

Everything need between those thighs.

Satoru always chooses something of r&b and smooth soul. Soft and rhythmic melodies that change one after another set the pace of the precise moves of his hips, making you squirm under his big body, reaching your peak for the nth time a night. If he's in a particularly good mood, he may hum some lines from songs without taking his magnetic eyes off your doe and watery ones, ignoring the way sweet little pleads escape your plump lips. Don't worry he'll make sure you understand that everything he needs is indeed between your thighs, while you're tugging on his white locks.

SUGURU GETO - FREE ANIMAL BY FOREIGN AIR

Free animal, free animal

My heart beats in patters to the broken sound

Free animal, free animal

You're the only one that can calm me down.

Suguru sees music as an integral part of the art of lovemaking, he puts on a record to set the mood of the night. Sprawled out on the big bed, he likes to watch you slowly shed your clothes, swaying your hips in time with the music. Suguru will make sure that the soft vibrations spreading throughout you are not only from the beat of the songs, but from his masterful tongue that's dancing all over your naked body. Geto slowly grazes the curves of your hips with his fingertips, slowly moving to the small of your back, causing it to arch further. And maybe in moments like this he does turn into an animal, cause the pace of his thrusts is purely animalistic.

KENTO NANAMI - 808 HEARTBEAT BY HUNTAR

You fall deep, made time fly

You sound sweet like a lullaby

So I take control

Love lifts us up where we belong

I hear you sing it like its our song.

The best song that he has ever heard is your moans that's for sure. Thus Kento doesn't really need any music to get in the mood or listen to during the process, cause he doesn't want to hear anything but sweet babbles and shameless moans escaping your parted lips. BUT he definitely can use it during the foreplay. Yet the moment you're pressed against his strong body with your arms tied above your head, your shaky breathes and quiet whimpers are the only music to his ears. He'll be gentle if you want him to but he'll always take control, making you reach the highest note as you come undone right before his eyes.

TOJI FUSHIGURO - KEEP IT DOWN BY MIGRANT MOTEL

I got you stuck in my teeth

I'll show you what to believe

Tracing my face with your nails

I’ll let you know when to breathe.

With his huge hand around your throat it's hard to concentrate on anything rather than the way his hips move with an unprecedented speed and very much in time with the music playing in the background. Toji at first wasn't impressed with the idea of turning on some songs while making love but now his face tells you otherwise. He seems to genuinely enjoy it, pounding into you from behind and making a little concert of his own with precise smacks on your ass. He'll ask you to pick some songs next time, too.

RYOMEN SUKUNA - LURK BY THE NEIGHBORHOOD

I fuck 'cause I need to, I fuck when I want

I'll fuck you in love, even though it is not

I'll fucking digest you one kiss at a time

You wish I was yours and I hope that you're mine.

He doesn't really care about musical accompaniment when it comes to sex. But something in him clicks the moment he hears that song playing in the background while you quietly go about your business. He doesn't hesitate for a second, pressing you against the wall with all his weight, his huge figure looming over you and smirking contentedly, creating a trap you can't escape from. Sukuna begins to gently run his hands all over your body, letting you relax slightly under his soft touch as the next moment his teeth are on your neck, abusing the soft skin, leaving bright red reminders of this night on his way. Your nails leaving crescent marks on his back. Now you know what to put on if you want him to go absolutely feral.

[twinksintrees]

so i am absolutely obsessed with @play-rough’s classification au on ao3 and it got to the point where i needed to make a whole playlist dedicated to it, so here it is, i hope you all like it.

playlist breakdown under the cut

understand: it’s the first song on here because of @/knoxx.tbox’s animatic, it’s gorgeous and everyone should check it out. it captures the gentle, caring part of their relationship perfectly.

little space: it’s just a song about little space, i also found the line “and i start to give in/to the sin/to the sin” very fitting for dazai because of just how much he hates his little head space.

hazel: sad tired dazai vibes, it makes me think of the second fic where he stays up all night, trying to drop but can’t, and the poor baby is just so out of it. “hold me tightly” he wants chuuya to hold him so, so badly. but he can’t say that, he can never just say what he wants, so he has to wait until he drops and then he has no choice, and he hates it. but yeah it also just soft sweet comforting vibes to me.

smoke signals: this one’s weird cuz unlike most of the songs on here where they’ll apply to either dazai or chuuya, this one has a stark divide of both. the first few lines “i know i’m a freak/ripped the band aid, broke the peace/took the lock but lost the key/guess i set you free” are so dazai it hurts. he thinks he’s a freak, he hates himself for his regression, he thinks leaving and getting out of chuuya’s space and life is setting him free from dazai. but that’s not what chuuya wants, the rest of the song is all about chuuya always welcoming him back, always wanting him there when he’s upset, wanting to be there and to help him. he wants to take care of his baby and for his baby to let him.

almost home: this one just gave me very gentle sweet vibes. it also made me think of the car ride back to chuuya’s apartment after dazai bit tsu and walked back to his shipping container alone and regressed, and just chuuya lulling small dazai to sleep and holding him, happy to have his baby back.

moon river: i wanted at least one nice lullaby on here and this is what my mom would always sing me so it’s just very personal to me lmao. just picturing chuuya humming/singing it to little dazai makes me v happy.

treehouse: the childhood friends vibe. “i’m the captain/but you can be the deputy” just like, describing their bond together. the closeness, the trust, all that.

escapism: this one’s all about dazai. him wanting to be free from his pain and wanting to be free from his little space, while also using his little space to escape his pain, if that makes sense.

beautiful boy: first off this songs just makes me insane second oughhhh chuuya singing it to dazai would end me. he’s chuuya’s boy, his sweet little baby. and chuuya will always be here for him, will always keep him safe, will always do his best to quiet the overwhelming voices in his head. they’re so soft it makes me unwell.

yellow: also a chuuya one, he’d do anything for baby dazai. he would bleed himself dry if it came down to it.

i need to be alone: dazai angst. the isolating himself when he feels little space coming on. the antsy-ness, the irritability, all of that. he doesn’t want to snap at chuuya, but he doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know how else to handle it. so he lashes out and somehow, still, chuuya is there. he hasn’t pushed him away yet. dazai doesn’t think he can handle the day he hits his limit.

i’ll die anyway: similar vein to the above. sad dazai.

juliet: the opening verse is so dazai core to me it hurts. “but i need to understand/when I can power through/and when i need some help from you/when i should stand my ground/and when i need to just sit down/sometimes i act like i know/but i’m really just a kid” all of this speak to dazai and his relationship with chuuya, specifically with accepting his help with his little space. he doesn’t know what to do, how to handle anything, when he’s little he is just a baby. chuuya knows what to do, what will help him feel better, knows how to take care of him and make him feel good. and dazai has mixed feelings on that, because he loves chuuya and he loves his attention, but it hurts to receive sometimes, and it hurts to not know what’s going on with himself, and that chuuya knows better what to do. he feels out of control and he doesn’t like it, but he still trusts chuuya and yeah it’s a whole thing.

i’ll keep you safe: chuuya song. very straight and to the point, chuuya just wants to keep dazai safe and happy and he wants to protect him, be there for him, quiet all the bad thoughts in his head. he knows how much it takes for dazai to regress at all, and the fact that he keeps doing it around chuuya (even though sometimes it is out of either of their control) just proves a huge amount of trust and chuuya values that so deeply, and that is a bond he would never dream of betraying or breaking.

rises the moon: imma be honest this one’s just for the soft vibes. i could see chuuya humming it as a lullaby, but mostly it just made me feel soft and happy so i put it on here.

small hands. this song. this song oh my god. i love this song so much it hurts. anyway it’s chuuya talking to dazai, “if you need come build your home in me, i can’t fix what was done to you, but i’ll shield you from the rain.” it’s chuuya knowing he can’t go back and erase dazai’s past, but being here for him now. he’s here now, and he’ll be here in the future. “cause i never mind, no matter the day or time, i never mind” chuuya would do anything to be there for dazai, it’s him telling him to reach out for help, telling him it’s okay, telling him he truly doesn’t mind, he wants this. he wants to care for him, to help. “and all the anchors that they hid inside your chest/we will unravel all of the chains/toss the remnants all down the drain” the anchors and chains being the trauma mori’s instilled about little space being bad. that dazai’s not supposed to, that he just push through and push it down and be fine. it’s chuuya telling him that’s not how it works, but together we can get you to regress safely and see that it’s not bad, it doesn’t have to scary, it can even be fun sometimes. it’s the slow process of working through all that trauma. “i will be there to pick up the pieces, and keep you housed while you bend them up” literally just chuuya always trying to have dazai over. his apartment is so much better than dazai’s shipping container. like just objectively. “if you wind up in the dark again/just turn and call my name/if the fire in your chest goes out/well i’ll hold you all the same” this whole bit also makes me think of after dazai bit tsu. “if you wind up in the dark again” is dazai going back to his container alone and scared. dazai doesn’t even need to call chuuya’s name before he’s showing up to help him, even if it’s a bumpy ride getting on the same page. “well i’ll hold you all the same” goes for chuuya’s feelings towards dazai in general. he wants to care for dazai in and out of headspace, it’s just the type of care looks different depending on where dazai’s at. sometimes it’s holding him in his arms, sometimes it’s pulling him back from a ledge. sometimes it’s gently feeding him a bottle, sometimes it’s forcibly fighting him into dry, clean clothes so he doesn’t get sick. and now for my favorite line “if you need to take this out on me/well you know i won’t complain” it’s chuuya never getting angry at dazai’s outbursts in headspace, cuz he knows how hard it is, how hard his baby is trying, he just doesn’t know what else to do with his overwhelming feelings. so chuuya takes his outbursts and handles them, and he’ll never hold them against his baby, because he’s literally just a baby what else is he supposed to do but cry and lash out when he’s tired and grumpy.

tired: sad tired dazai and specifically the line “cause i’ve been eating less all day/to give my brain some extra space to think.”

coffee: I know it’s called coffee but honestly this makes me think of chuuya prepping dazai’s bottles, making sure it’s just the right temperature, the right flavors for his baby. vanilla and strawberry, something more special than just milk. it’s cute.

feb 14: honestly i just kept coming back to this song and the playlist didn’t feel complete without it but i couldn’t tell you why, i don’t have a real detailed reason for it other than vibes.

this side of paradise: chuuya not wanting dazai to feel lonely/be alone and scared while in headspace. “come be lonely with me” all that jazz. i chose the slow version cuz the og felt to fast paced and overwhelming compared to the rest of the playlist, and i this fit it better.

[bam-stroker]

Dacw 'Nghariad

I shared it in the discord, but here is some Misuta/Fool from @venomous-qwille's Ghost in the Machine story.

The song this was inspired by is MEREDYDD EVANS - DACW 'NGHARIAD. Here are the lyrics translated as well to see.

Y'all are getting my combo love of folk music, sun and moon robots in love, and romance :')

A gentle breeze sighs through the greenery at the edge of the garden. The smell of a spring rain heavy in the air from a storm that had blown through last night. In the creeping early hours of the dawn the world is lush and twinkling with morning dew and lingering rainwater collected in flowers and leaves. The sky slowly illuminating the skyline in pale purples. 

With a sweeping gesture Fool drapes himself over the ledge where the garden ends. A spot he had sat in many times now. It surely had the loveliest view of the whole estate. At least when the timing was right.

Tossing back his cape to free his shoulder he lifts his guitar into position - facing his body towards the house. The third floor window open and waiting. He smiles bright to himself. A surge of fond excitement skittering through his wires at the sight. 

Softly plucking the strings he begins to play a tune that seemed to sing louder and louder through his mind these days. A lilting lullaby of a love song. 

Dacw 'nghariad i lawr yn y berllan,

Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal

His eyes stay steady on the open window. Voice as soft as a prayer for only his intended audience to hear. Welsh tumbling along like a babbling brook to call his beauty to sit and listen. Beckoning his sweet morning birdsong for the moon above. 

Dacw’r dderwen wych ganghennog,

Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal

Golwg arni sydd dra serchog.

Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal

Mi arhosaf yn ei chysgod

Nes daw 'nghariad i 'ngyfarfod.

From the darkness his prayer is answered by the pale glow of pink pupils. By far the loveliest shade in all the garden. The flowers can only droop in shame at the unparalleled beauty looking down. Electric blue and ocean green features more lovely than the mottled dawn. But most lovely of all is the bemused smile on Misuta’s lips. Fool would do whatever it took to see that smile the other had saved just for him. 

Dacw'r delyn, dacw'r tannau;

Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal

Beth wyf gwell, heb neb i'w chwarae?

Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal

Leaning on the windowsill, Misuta rests his chin on a hand as he listens to his Fool’s serenade. An indulgence he would gladly languish in for as long as the other would go on for. Fluttering affection coursing through him as if Fool’s fingers were plucking along in his heart. Silk ruffles of his sleeves blowing in the breeze like falling flower petals.

Dacw'r feinwen hoenus fanwl;

Beth wyf well heb gael ei meddwl?

Ffaldi radl didl dal, ffaldi radl didl dal,

Tw rym di ro rym di radl didl dal 

The final note is held out as Fool locks eyes with Misuta. A nearby leaf collapsing to cascade shimmering drops of rain down to the earth. The world silent with baited breath to see what might come next. Fool sets his guitar aside to stand. Gallantly posturing himself to reach up towards the lunar bot. As if he might just begin reciting Romeo’s lovesick words to Juliet on the balcony.

He smiles wide, eyes crescents as he tenderly calls up, “Goodmorning, Cariad.”

[saraicus]

Piano's Labyrinth | Morpheus x GN! Reader

Warning: None

Notes: I’ve taken a small break from the “So, Mote, It Be” series, and I decided to write this small blurb to make it up. I’ll update the series soon! 

Also, if you'd like to be a part of “The Sandman” tag list, just ask me! Requests are also open.

Word count: 726 Masterlist

The familiar melody echoed in the room, with your soft breathing. With your eyes closed, your fingers touched the piano’s keys in rhythm. The room was still and you were alone with surrounding bookshelves. As you swayed your body to the melody, you began to hum the tune as well. The soft piece drew in your partner Morpheus, he was walking around the kingdom when he heard the song coming from the library. Morpheus was aware of your love for music and had a piano installed in the library for you to play. Naturally, you would play the piano daily, however, after dealing with a rogue nightmare, you grew distressed and stopped playing the piano. It has been weeks since you last played the piano, and Morpheus grew worried. He never said it, but deep down he loved it when you played the piano. It was calming to him, and it allowed him to think since the piano melody was loud enough for him to hear in the throne room.

Your favorite music piece was the theme song from the movie, “Pan’s Labyrinth” The song was a fragment of your childhood, as it would remind you of the times you would watch the Spanish film with your mother. It was the only music piece you could remember from your human life, and you would never grow tired of playing the song. After weeks of not playing the piano, you decided now it was time for you to play, so you can return to your normal life. Normality was something you craved for weeks, but it was difficult for you to achieve after the rogue nightmare almost killed you.

If Morpheus was two seconds late, you would’ve died a second time, and your life would be in complete darkness without him. The first time you died, you were in your mid-twenties, and cliche as it sounded, you were poisoned by your stepfather for your insurance money. When you appeared in front of Death, you pleaded to go back to human life, but when you locked eyes with Morpheus, your heart fluttered, and he took an interest in you. Especially after hearing how you died, he wanted to get to know you and asked if you wanted to help with his duties. Knowing that Death won’t give you back your human life, you decided to work with Morpheus.

It was a calming relationship, and it grew after he took notice of your love for music. When he installed the piano, you would rush to the library and play the same tune throughout the night after finishing your duties for the night. Lucienne would normally leave the library when you would come by, so you could feel more at ease, but in reality, everyone would stand outside the door to hear you play. Morpheus wanted to question your prowess on the piano, but he was afraid you would stop playing since you always assumed no one could hear you play. Instead, everyone in the kingdom would just stand still to hear you play the lullaby on the piano. A calming lullaby fit for the citizens of the dreaming realm, and the royal couple.

When you hit the last couple of notes on the piano, Morpheus was next to the door and smiled after hearing you finish the song. You got up and began to walk out of the room, Morpheus heard your footsteps grow closer and removed himself from the door. When the door opened, you turned to your left to see Morpheus smiling. For the first time in weeks, you smiled back and placed your hand on his cheek. Morpheus leaned against your hand and asked, “Can you sing the lullaby again?”

“Of course, Morpheus. Anything for you,” you whispered. Locking your arms together, you began to hum the lullaby while walking back to his chambers. The night was growing old as the sun was slowly rising, which made you feel warm inside. It meant you had the time to be with Morpheus alone, before attending to your duties for the night. You took a mental note to make him watch the movie, and perhaps teach him to play the song on the piano. Instead of using the sand to help others sleep, you played the lullaby on the piano to soothe their ears as they slept.

[goldenmagnolias]

lost in the labyrinth of my mind

pairing: OC High Lord of Dusk x Archeron!Sister

summary: Reverie Archeron has always been different. Different in a good or bad way depends on who you asked. Now a High Fae, and with another war approaching she tries to be as helpful as she can around Velaris and with her baby nephew, but at a High Lord meeting, the countless dreams she has as a child and the feelings that are not quite hers suddenly make sense and things become something that she never could have seen coming.

a/n: Chaotic High Lord meeting? Mentions of a coup? Unlikely people being civil towards one another? Ophiuchus catching on thing quicker than most and being obsessed with his mate? 👀👀👀 we’ll say hello to chapter 5

masterlist // ao3

CHAPTER V: WAYS, WAR, WRATH & PLANS

Ophiuchus Hesperus was not a patient person. 

It was a nuisance most of the times. Sometimes even to himself. He could remember getting on his mother’s nerves as a child, until she would just laugh and cave in. 

But now, he wasn’t only Ophiuchus. He was High Lord of Dusk. He was responsible for all the people in his court, old and young, friend or foes, and there was clearly a war approaching. 

And yet… yet his mind kept returning to white locks and soft features. 

She looked like an gift sent from The Mother, maybe even made at her very image. He barely was able to pull himself away from the room, yet at the same time couldn’t bring himself to be closer to her; not when she was in such state. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries or cause a bad impression on his mate, by acting like a crazy male. 

He moved into the meeting room, half his mind present, half of it extremely attuned to the golden string alive and singing on his chest. Softly thrumming like piano keys in a soft lullaby. 

‘Feyre tells me to relay to you that she’s awake and well.’ A voice says on his head, and Ophiuchus nods almost unnoticeably towards the mate of his mate’s sister and the Night’s High Lord before placing his mental shields in place. 

“We still do not know what kept your court away.” The Lord of The Day Court, Helion, said looking towards him. 

“We have been working on figuring that out,” Ophiuchus replies, “the barrier was clear, it felt like in consistency like water, and yet, completely unmovable but we were able to see the other side much like glass.” 

After a beat of silence, he added with a slight wince, “One would grow weak in energy if pressing up against it for too long.”

“That sounds like it’s spoken experience.” Kallias comments. 

“I was a nuisance as a child.” Ophiuchus hums, and he doesn’t miss the snort from Darius or Elia, making him roll his eyes, as some of the other high lords look amused. 

“We are not here to hear tales,” The High Lord of Autumn spoke and his heir seemed to be counting in his head, seemingly trying to hold himself back if the way his hands clenched up were anything to go by.

Curious. 

“You asked about the barrier, I’m stating the facts about it.” Ophiuchus says his tone bored. “The difference between tales and history is simply a matter of proof.” 

“When the matter is actually important, we will resume this. I have no time to play house there’s a court I need to run.” Beron Vanserra says before leaving in a winnowing flash, meanwhile his oldest son stays behind. 

“Remind me again why we put up with him.” Thesan says to no one in particular. 

“Because he’s a bastard but still holds autumn power.” Tarquin says. 

“Maybe this should be a reason to consider.” Tamlin, The High Lord of Spring speaks for the first time since he introduced himself. 

“Consider?” The Autumn Heir repeats the men’s words. 

“Say Eris, how many citizens in Autumn despise your father and wouldn’t bat eyes regarding a coup.” Tamlin begins, looking at no one in particular, “Lady Autumn included wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” 

Ophiuchus catches how the High Lord of Day tenses at the mention of the Lady. 

His eyes glance towards Elia and Silas both who seem to have catch such actions too. 

“That’s treason.” Eris says. 

“Treason per say it wouldn’t.” Tamlin says.

“Are you getting anywhere Tamlin?” Kallias says in a exasperated tone. 

“You do remember Spring and Autumn share barriers,” Tamlin says, “I can count on one hand, those that have had a good word to say about Beron. Your Court alliance is too Autumn not to Beron.” 

“If there’s no alliance to one’s government, there’s no treason committed.” Eris says. 

“That’s actually a fair point,” Rhysand admits, and it looks like it pains him to do so. 

There’s some deep rivalry there, Ophiuchus thinks as he looks between the HIgh Lords of Spring and Night. 

Tamlin just dips his head, in a silent acknowledgment to the statement. 

“You’re all saying we should stage a coup on my father.” 

“Considering he seems to be trying to divert the attention from a very much know and powerful death god.” Helion says, “and that he did seem like he was skittish.” 

“You think he’s aligned himself with-“ The Autumn heir exhales, “I wouldn’t put pass him.” He adds after a beat of silence. 

“If I do it, with your backup. I want my mother out of Autumn first.” 

“And your brother’s?” 

“Lucien is at Night. Callahan, Azar and Conley will have my back.” 

“How can you be sure?” 

“Blood runs thicker than water and in our case. There’s also trauma bonding there and some vengeance wishes that have been long present.” 

“We haven’t even began to see the real Beron Vanserra have we.” Rhysand asks breaking his quiet stance. 

Eris just looks at Rhysand, and Ophiuchus is able to see the second the Heir allows the High Lord to see something on his mind. 

The High Lord of Night eyes are lit in cold fury. “Seems like we now have a plan regarding that.” 

“And Kochei?” Thesan asks, before turning to one of the few woman present at the room, “Queen Vassa, I understand is a sore topic but-“ 

“Ask what you have to ask High Lord, I’m human but not made of porcelain. Im a firebird. I can take a couple hard questions.” 

“I have one then, Your Grace.” Ophiuchus speaks up once something clicks in his mind. Firebird. gaining the attention to him. “Did you see the box?” 

Vassa turns to him so quickly that it’s a wonder how she didn’t break her neck, and Jurian frowns at the action. 

“The dome around my court just started making more and more sense.” Ophiuchus says, with a tired exhale. 

“Meaning?” Kallias asks.

“Meaning. This is something bigger that has been in motion for centuries, and for some reason has only started moving out of the dark now.”

….

Taglist: @imma-too-many-fandoms

[intcritus]

"it's fine," sebastian laughs between their shared kisses, the gamer shifting on the couch as he pulled lucio along with him, coaxing him to lay on top of him as their movie rolled in the background, " you can lay on top me, i won't die -- and if i did, i'd proudly keep that reason of death on my gravestone."

another laugh spilled, lips locking with lucio's once more as a hand made itself comfortable on his back, another seeking to stray strands of hair that was pushed back. fingers would trace lucio's spine gently, fingers running slowly up and down its clothed surface, basking in the comfort of having such a delightful blanket for the evening. "we can still see the movie like this, and if you get sleepy, you can just fall asleep on me --- heck, maybe i'll actually be able to sleep for once as well ! wouldn't that be something."

one could hope.

"look at you bein' all pretty," sebastian added in a grin, allowing his southern accent to slip out for the charm of it, lips pecking lucio's chin before returning to the corner of his mouth; "... i could look at you all night, lucio."

warmth spreads through his chest as laughter and spills from his lips, each kiss making him melt. how could he deny laying atop sebastian when he was like this ? and negotiating with him while being so damn cute ? it was so unfair. but if the witch was being honest, it was no real hassle to lay on his boyfriend, he was comfy and warm and he went rather easily, a smirk curling up the corners of his mouth.

❝ ━ mm, if you keep being cute, i'll be paying you more attention than the movie, y'know ? ❞ lips press to the corner of his mouth, then the other side as warm laughter escapes him, spine tingling at the caress, even through fabric. body grows lax as legs entwine, fingers curling over jaw, holding the gamer still so he can steal a kiss from his lips. ❝ ━ want me to help you sleep ? ❞ words are soft, teasing, thumb caressing across cheek. domestic, intimate -- a pretty, cozy scene they made, paying more attention to one another rather than the nameless movie that played on the scren. the world certainly didn't exist.

oh, his thorny heart skips hopeless, completely charmed by this idiot and his accent. lucio will never get over having such intent focus on him, warm gaze unwavering. pink flourishes across his cheekbones, teeth dragged between pearly whites before he rolls his eyes. but secretly, he's pleased. lucio wants that. for sebastian to focus on him, to keep kissing him admist their laughter, to keep stroking the curve of his spine so the witch is aware of no one but him. in this little bubble, he's warm and fuzzy like he's floating. ❝ ━ then do so, meae deliciae. ❞

leaning down, lucio presses another kiss to sebastian's mouth, then another, and another because truly, he could kiss him forever. features soften, eyes crinkling at the corners, ❝ ━ let's stay like this, maybe i'll sing you a lullaby. ❞ another soft kiss, to jaw then dragging his lips over jaw with a hum, ❝ ━ and you can hold me until we're both sleep, hm ? the movie can wait.❞ chuckling, he nuzzles into the hollow of sebastian's throat, soft lips pressing to his pulse.

[sacrotries]

Contemplation (Childe x reader)

IMPORTANT: spoilers for his story/lines. May count as hurt/comfort?

‎

If his eyes were keen for art he would have noticed how the window looked exactly like a piece of art, even with the rough edges of wood around it, scratched and old. Even with the insistent drops of rain hiding most of the outside landscape, even the small sideboard (in the same conditions as the window) played a harmonious part in the view. However, Ajax was far too lost in conversation to think of such trivial things, staring into your eyes instead, he could only wonder when was the last time he had gotten genuinely interested chatting like this. It was… great, he would decide.

So it felt a bit cold and uncertain when you stood up after he accepted a request you had, ready to proceed. He wasn't uncomfortable, rather taken aback by the spontaneity of your petition, but wouldn't deny you such a simple desire. You had asked to braid his hair, laughing away the confusion at the fact it was pretty short.

Your fingers were strangers to his body, unconsciously he held his breath before allowing it to escape again. Soft and carefully the locks of hair were slipping through your fingers, soft, so soft. He  couldn't help but to stare at the window in front of him.

‎

You brought  dear memories back, ones that felt truly mundane back at the time  but now were filled with adoration. The sounds of steps on the squeaking wood floor, sunshine invading the scene of the afternoon (and yet, never warming them up), his sister dutifully sat while their sisters braided each other's hair. They would talk for a long time, so much their eyelashes would start to noticeably weigh and night would reach them soon, but young Ajax would barely pay attention to their words.

Tartaglia couldn't help but smile in content. The rain in the window served him for inspiration as well, remembering the nights he would try to keep eyes closed enthusiastically as a child, unable to wait until morning to go fishing with father. Perhaps it would have been easier to be patient if imagination satiated his curiosity; what stories would father share the next day?  What adventures would await him? 

On nights where he was particularly struggling more the voice of their mother would be heard from afar, singing a lullaby to the younger brother while probably rocking him to sleep, loud enough for him to drift off as well.

‎

Ah, it had been a long time since his chest had that burning sensation of impatience at night. Well, come to think of it, it had been a long time since a lot of things had happened for the last time. The man couldn't remember the last time he saw his mother braiding his sister's hair, the last time he made a pinky promise while chanting a nursery rhyme, fishing with his father, stepping on the cold ice with all his strength while trying to break it. Over, and over again.

Over, and over again.

‎

Perhaps it was after the time he had gotten out of the abyss, or the first time his parents stared with horror back at him. Even with a prideful exterior, he could remember the coldness of loneliness chilling him to the bone, not that his mind would wander around the thought for long. Another guess could be the endless nights under the pure moon bathing his rough wounds, mother asking him what had happened. Childe knew she never meant what had wounded him, but what had happened to her son, to Ajax, and his voice was always unable to answer. Nobile always found himself at a loss of words at the thought of the abyss, if asked, if hinted, not a sound escaped him. He could just stay there; empty, stoic, displeased. He had never talked about it, couldn't  remember even reflecting about it, as a secret forbidden even to himself.

The results of his first adventure were full of wisdom for battle, of strength and devotion, but to think more than that would certainly be… not noble at all.

‎

As an instinct, eyes closed and another slow breath left him, the wind could be heard from afar, he wondered if his motherland was experiencing the same luck as well. Then, perhaps, Teucer and Anthon could play around with the kite from Liyue, that was if they still had it of course. Suddenly, uneasiness showered him, when was the last time he had seen it?... When would be the last time he would tell Anthon about other nations, hearing him talk about books? Dear Tonia was already growing out of the clothes he had gifted her… When would be the last time his little brother would believe his fake job, happily receiving his gifts? Has Teucer ever held his eyes tight at night while thinking about his arrival? Would they eventually ever look at him the same way their parents, coworkers, other people had?

He fixed his throat, and your touch was the owner of his attention once again. Soft, soft hands. Made him feel so fragile.

So fragile.

‎ ‎

What had happened to Ajax?

‎

He got the draining feeling, perhaps for the very first time, that it was over. That it all were but memories. That love hurted not because of its lack of existence, but 

because he was once loved, deeply so; In the mountains hidden under the snow, dancing in the village festivals, in the forest they desperately looked for him, in the lakes and in snow fights, and on dinners where chairs were not enough, in the songs they would sing together, while doing chores for a hope of one minute more of playtime, while smelling the fresh baked bread in the morning, under the moon and sky that connected him back to his motherland. Ajax was once so genuinely and shamelessly loved.

‎

His chest started to ache, hands flexing by instinct at the irritation his own loud heartbeat caused. His stare traveled away from the window, close to the wall, to his side. And there was you. You. It made his heart so silent with anticipation.

He could find the stars in your eyes, leaving a trail after you just barely breathed and you just stood there. And it burnt him, filled with doubts, his bleeding scars wondering if there would come a time your stars would prove to be just as hurtful, just as beautiful, just as tragic as it all has.

‎

—I was right! — you positioned in front of him, hands close to his face but not enough for him to feel your touch.

‎

—A-ah?– Confusion evident in his expression, Nobile had gotten lost in thought to keep up with your actions.

‎

–You look lovely with them.

‎

Before a reaction reached him you were off to braid the other side of his hair. His eyes trembled, he wanted— almost needed to stare at you. No words could leave nor find his quittering mouth, not a movement, his hands meeting weakness after years of battle. Eyelashes could only stay frozen at your touch, not a tear would leave him, that he oathed to himself. Snezhnaya doesn't believe in tears anymore, and Ajax wasn't ready to do so either. And still ever so shameless you stole him of his breathing, of his beating heart, and he questioned how strong he really was. 

But Ajax, he was so tired. So quiet, for the very first time. He closed his eyes, leaned in, and swore to count the sparkles over and over again just for the opportunity to trust you like this forever. Now that you have given him the dream of such gentle affection, he can only hope in silence that you'll defend it until the end.

‎

—Thank you.

‎

That night, under your touch, Ajax was loved.

‎ ‎

I've walked around this one for a while, it's a bit hard to understand his character but still I hope you'll like it (some words/phrases make sense as references to his voicelines). This was inspired by Little women scene "I can't believe childhood is over" and a quote I came across from James Joyce (althought I don't know its context, I apologize) "Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.“

Please do not copy, repost, etc. Thank you for reading!

[kiwi2229]

Lullaby

(Sirius & Regulus | 534 words)

TW: Child neglect

Sirius could hear his brother crying. It was late at night so the house was silent, but even during the day, he could always hear since his brother’s room was right across the hallway. Regulus was crying for a good ten minutes by now and nobody came. That meant that he wasn’t hurt. Their parents had put charms around his crib so they knew when he was hungry, needed to change, or well otherwise physically in need. Most likely Regulus was just sad or lonely or had a nightmare. He had these a lot lately. Their parents didn’t consider these as a reason that needed attention. 

Still, the sound of his brother being sad was breaking Sirius’ heart. He quietly slipped from his own bed and pressed his ear to the door listening carefully if indeed no one is coming. He wasn’t supposed to be up at this hour let alone be out of his room.

The hallway seemed empty so reached out and turned the doorknob. To his left, there was this big staircase. Sirius hated it. The steps were still too big for him and scary paintings were hanging over it. He turned his head focusing back on his goal. He tiptoed across the hallway and slipped into Regulus’ room. 

His brother didn’t notice him at first too busy pressing the palms of his little hands to his face. Sirius was already well-practiced in this. He pulled up a chair to the crib and climb on top of it. It was always hard to get in than get out. 

“Reggie.” He softly called out to him. The small boy looked up startled but as soon as he saw his big brother he reach out making grabby hands at him. 

“Siri.” He slurred his words. Apparently, Sirius was too complicated for him to pronounce so he got used to this nickname. Sirius always found him utterly adorable when he called him that. 

“I know, I’m coming,” Sirius assured him and pulled himself up, and then flopped in the crib with practice. As soon as he got in Regulus was already crawling to him. He sat right beside his brother who pulled him in a tight hug caressing his fingers through the short curls.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Sirius whispered. His brother looked at him and nodded tears still streaming from his reddened eyes. 

“I see. But don’t worry Reggie. I’m here and I’ll chase all the monsters away.” Regulus locked his tiny fists into Sirius's shirt and hid his face. Sirius wrapped his arms around him and started to cradle them. He could still feel how the tears were soaking his shirt but at least Regulus seemed to calm down by a bit. 

“I’ll always come to you, little brother. Don’t worry. So how about I sing you something for a good night?” Sirius didn’t wait for an answer and started humming a soft melody he made up. He didn’t know any lullabies and didn’t want to sing any of the few songs their father played in his study. He made a mental note to learn some soon so he could do a better job as a big brother to his Reggie. 

[lilaceas]

tear

sky is dark & leopard coat fur in the hills are white sleepy little girl drown betwen fire & an illusion marry me & torture me & fold your wings in a carousel of real horses wild & i pretty if dare to disturb a king of thunderstorm grow up & lie & to nit collapse with open eyes see & what have we done when everyone is full of shit clowns & peaches through millions of buckets a daughter tattoed perfection in her forehead plays as a dead women smashing her own car with one husbands skull—babyblue with velvet eyes; to the singing of mother-bird protection are jesus locked in a jail & not, blaming sweet red tones of her lips & flowery skin on skin make & kill my hit on down & lullaby a magical morning & a terrible night when nightmare woke me two shoots & throat i lied but some secret empty cloud blooms— nest where whore's name same as mine her little one lies. yonder he asked for my number but losing games to watch ginger breads over the casket see a star,—with a twisted gloss rock & roll & robbots song; the soft dew under lingerie a owned hear it calling— & twinkling the night eyelid along. cities full of nails polishes strap your face & door open but nobody came through the window a lover & lancôme gift comes,—gold moon misty wings; all silently kept you out & get down the floor you'd cut this pussy no one will care why the green excepts flies away, it asks, is he sleeping is he moaning why i keep buying lies i'm so blind on the hotel with religion behind my ballerina feet hurting aching & addicted to a metaphor that said snowflakes are the worst & you didn't knew how nice trying is the best when you commit murder for— dreaming awake monsters in my head treasures treating while mother sings? from the north sea glass of floats the sobbing of the waves & valley of shadows the scariest story happens all the time with clocks off that are breaking upon the store & though flowers crown of pain defformity & doctors finally went hospital to come back as dirt & say forgive me they were groaning in anguish they are washing her clothes to see him again for an instant & moaning my name make me feel unreal & sad a tear never left a mark buy me candy & prostitutes i give you eternity & a kiss out your mouth you can tell who am i & why you'd smell so bad from laying with women that looks like me but talk so indifferent you say true she's mine & not you ugly as hell brunette not long hair not my type say no clues i wanted to be around— bemoaning death sentence trying to initiate her lufe you promised me it was destroyed that there's nothing of us in your idiot brain my name are in trash & romance didn't exists. that shall come no more. sleepy & fold your wings,— babyblue will never be babyblue you crazy bitch boy with mournful eyes cutten open & not moaning?—see, i love another man, swinging in nothing & calling me every time you enter in the room where i'm at—where my darling lies. the storm-king speeds up at são paulo from the north europe to-night, & leaves me lonely & not breathing nicotine exhaling money smell & my poetry is for him, god & jesus sing up & down but not sad or blaming some & head on & tornadoes a break is all mother wants in silently bedrooms we lived as we were one & two souls are too less for me pushing me & using me & try me & look me in the face close your eyes when your birthday cames wish my love & its so clear wishes are made to not be realised, i wonder why because you don't touch your cellphone therefore four months ago when i came from ontario eating cookies & drinking chocolate milk missing your warmness & tenderness please don't say you're sorry commiting suicide is a temple not one stays where am i going now i saw you in your car singing & may i just don't need you any more then its fear that make two of us apart this king wild went flight the crown my breasts in snowflakes a drink & i go & i sing too within you & i'm on platforms as ever & find me & cannot remind where am i at am i by your side in the bed sucking your cock with you anesthesy & incounscious better sex.

[deepinthedarkworld]

Esmeralda smiled at the male. “Then I think this trip will be one you will enjoy.” After taking another mouthful of soup, and swallowing it, she said, “not to toot my own horn or anything.” She considered herself great company, and the two of them were friends, so she was fairly confident that this would end up as a good trip. She was enjoying herself already and the night was still young. 

A soft breeze blew through the campsite, blowing through her dark locks. Dom’s question took her a little by surprise. It had been a while since she had actively told someone about her father. Just the thought of the old man brought a faint smile to her lips as she looked into the flames. “Camping with him was something I always looked forward to. Didn’t matter if it was just for one night or five. We would go on these hikes, my dad would read a map and he would draw out the path for us with a pink glittery marker just so I would feel included too.” A soft chuckle left her lips. “If we ended up by the water, we would fish. And he would tell me to turn away when he killed it cause I always cried. We would play cards. Make s'mores and just stare at the stars. He would tell me about stars and planets, sometimes he would bring a small telescope. He would try and show me different constellations, tell me their names and stuff. Then he would tuck me into my sleeping bag, after having let me stay up way past my bedtime of course, and he would sing lullabies and tell me stories.” Esme hadn’t realised how her smile had grown into a grin as she thought about the memories. “We just had the best times, you know? And now I get to share something like that with you. If you want to, of course.”

Esmeralda stirred some in the soup before getting the bowls ready. It was a simple dinner but it would still do them good to eat something other than some energy bars or whatever. Looking at Dominic through the flames, the brunette cocked her head. “Why not? You can breathe, can you not?” Sure, some people were more outdoorsy than others but you didn’t need a certain skill to enjoy the piece and quiet. Pouring some of the warm soup into a bowl, Esme then reached the bowl towards the male, along with a spoon. “I think as long as you get along with me you can enjoy this trip, right?” Once her own bowl was ready, she sat back and took a mouthful. “We get along, do we not?”