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libidomechanica · 8 months

Text

Had joys no defeat can every germ of humane to sea

A ballad sequence

First Stanza

And rated his friendship, the skies. All, and dying: Daddy? So hath found about, in absence vaile these thing to Corinth,

what they sleep. With a grey downs dulled among the blooms in May, that’s keep thy credit her beauty being demon of your

neighbor. This were was a poplar or a prince got any. The forehead, a bunch of the duke, who loue you can make a

Werter of thy kirtle, an’ I’ll come to tell be said to the white. There was Gama; cracked as he did not sweet maid, how

fast as fair to thy power, and other your electroencephalographs, and love, good nature should compose and ermine:

although the time or being mine? But in death and now in the debris of purer sapphires, great lamps blazoned

like the loss, or of clocks at will I write which we’ll sit contents I do suspect a coward: you that is what we

are innocence is your only call’d The hap of all my lad. Had joys no defeat can every germ of humane to

sea. I wanna be your faults of Fitz-Plantage of no tone: a woman’s parted on my part you have him in place seemed

turned cud of wrath: he shore just, and laid their most subtle and Prejudice, in some Celestial heat burnt round its cannot

extremely sick? On a glassy deep, which credit as it were his Pride and was a ghosts, and I have the place own her

fingers sheepe han that do sing—of palm or pine? None like me, thought of life to be, my last I saw him not: t will

answering bed! Ungrateful, the brow of a calf in Arizona, one is famisht case? One is fully rude, that all

in the boy on the topics most impress’d. By blind yours is awful package, and yet so warmly ran my basement, he

added a slightest splinters cold dull and nowe then she seeds itself, and display the Thespian springs the lily,

the times I must have the beauty and all in reign. He was not-yet to your round thereof to me are two; thy fire; i’me

wear like a gull passion’s blush’d into man be she was, though our helmet on, engineer books to blush the ground, and more

women to love forsooth: I have but the very shock of better world was true, some breath’d mate taste her minds then must be

well oiled by, and which himself would be, like a scholar, Lycius, and smooth move to have And sett him with all flow.

Second Stanza

Whose glorious Lord, such a strawberry blonde head Uranian Venus hung, although here are brought, and I have had seen like I love their best endow with myne eyes burnt was married.

Livelier land; and the meaning to Corinth, as a companion’d or victor is, thought to floats the wings both together thing, which really ill yet either city there’s life’s

steede of this I sweare by black cascade of the milk tip. Fashion and wonder bay? There late on the sheep are lost in one eludes, my Julia. About how it by their flocke so much

thou would lay, hey ho the doctor, says together Don Juan waste, this prey. The first of love; Thy radiant crown; that shall make the valley-depths of alabaster. What is not one trance,

each high a? It’s no date nor light, Stealing up again with me, such burning to have tried to moue; if two entities: myself arise, and made. Hopes crown put on her cheeks, or loves

me to your leg a spot the fear and pleasure the appall? To this, I though my bale will gie to Papa. Or she might move, below? I, that thou would lull it cease the brethren, young

wife that not, happy, happy thine the married, and of the very ancient grey, as when you’ve risen. Upon a hill, my heart beat about my plumes we rustled: him whose loue, but

a trick to pour their virtue advantage of nourishment pain: a deep below, mild as a tortoise in sleep and such a single fabric that die ye must not iaelous of high

a? Take me to quiet and death. Often he vsed of time, thouh I love and not if anyone driving in the milk tip. As summer-palace, a dulled tree. But they miss—but true

feeling. Though hate a sweetest Lesbia, let me have been out untrue. I love answer, darnel and come to common bed were much treasure is a theft. Is heart has lost the come to

ye, my own hunger and every strange; tis fitter to flood on their ways; I sit and points that porter, something to talk is well oiled by this weak and bliss from the powers the merely

felt the purpose of my youth last and came to those blacke but clatter. Saw you have me new maim’d to clay. Let hereto the good but rarely made it doth frame where-through a ring

means but the brute blood shouting’s making complain, for lovely graduate, still it hit there, from wealthy horse: the meed of the kissing a snowy hand—just love at grieve to paint my

hate. We left her, leaving to talk again and wide sits mute and watch for your own, with more, which mething can body, and by beauty gave, thought, be to my friendship much more dazle

the liberties. French breathed, dissolve in death her bed; heard mought they hears, will fall, trust meet all discharge some with morning on while my slumbers shell, well, but on her, let us plague, which?

Third Stanza

She seems both sides, he knew not torn. With her take me for their Destined not cover you … mother narrative it take you not fall out with oxygen. Below her experience is youth descended, to breeds theyr name history. That a

catatonic shape to hurt ye, or hidden: which surrounds that white, while you smile lord Henry walk’d, or on my time, you hold his lip, gorgonised me dear lovely hands that I speak silent guitar, o lovely least he kept sea; a green boat,

that we had a cello in Russia, one that least who I am. That would. I wait. And of things; and all around sown with morning deeply on the highwayman I, forc’d, agreeable, pitiless, and idle language but then from thee;

yet eyes my circle, which, tho’ that sweeping Woman Old, when I tip-toed past thou shall but precious was, when the harsh featurelesse byrds are lov’d, and call thing coy, she wept along time wherever and mistakes her husbands chaste. Than ever

so. Or, like saint or sink—I have guest, best-nature one, whose whom? Music by the ass of the other in this seed, Hermes, and dwell in the end. Seem to be doing, it scarce, yet our dreadful things hot dogs lie down o’er the wager would events

is always now! There with reared thing I deny, and kissed Briar Rose and lay here been forests on more was the lythe ancient well acquainted o’er the passage in: since my word she is window, and placid glass box on an arch, where I

said in their unions, millinery with sure of spike? Patter on a stands beside. I be dead? Curling eddies, and what does not fitly don’t known, whose beautiful Pussy you think I’m dying bashful dawn in water. With the long waves

in your memory of my mother golden and quiet. This left to have loved you for their own abyss of such a sloping grace, a gray old man never yet was vacant and charming Polly Stewart, that and he that you make a Werter

of their plans that hath been earth discernment pain and Earth with this meat, that only in his soft piteous eyes, without delayed sheltering what? Ye that seasons gone. Hey ho bonilasse not Melampode euery wherefore say that this

bad worlds a trance made no bones. The wind slender oats foraged in the woman I am and out of fear, perhaps the type of general companionship, and if the unnamed boy I fear—it seems the below, mild as a mower. They

are you sweare I not this, that it was chalke, a shepheard long wayes I know, may beareth the shell is more sweet Infanta of the Mermaid’s now, by Honours crawled by one, or make these you remember how Bess, the starts; then, thou art and for crime.

Fourth Stanza

Bare me, what I’ve lost its milk tip. Whilst thou should enroll the fatal to me should I lov’d, and awful with misled both

joyous and charming Polly Stewart, o charms. Tossing and yet in views them. All: wreck, or cast no show the light foot back?

And see the flocks are we, ’ one voiceless poetic pages wide domain, and it’s not at all ages, oft stark all else!

To guess. As I have no more, then Loue, I burne in and on me, they most thou speak? And mine and gems and crippled the flowers

too rough, I tease us out and Self-esteem, like Archimedes, I neuer sincere, friendship alone, so name

for those black-eyed daughter, plaiting a rumpled crimson feather’s day, and that many a river of heaven knows, maybe

not them, seem to the sky sagged you walked in the offer of his youth doth lap, nay lets, in Sleepe and plenty of life

than be desert wild; which, thou withdraw; Then, ere young? I watches: and the last ray wane of the boy I fear—the received,

cat-footed, golden pin; since allowed up and wash thy good advice! Of moving seas, when I read thy though the charm enough

here his mould; and I have deceived; so young general roar of which he did lye, riding—is raking eyes and Tim would

let me fly to remember: they flew; nor grew friend—and they don’t do it. Just the town and see God fosterity, have

I not know she comes a pitcht upon this name I used to make the duration; but, in absent, and braw, when we false!

Fifth Stanza

Such as once had yours forever. The wheel beside and seek it; this way between mine, unless eyes swimming its good too

she’d said, I dared. He did wear the whiteness, not like a flying rowes; you have thee: no, no, let bee. The tempest—surely

the dark, no soon he faire, most be believe him with some peculiar mystical sublunary love an ocean that

they are her roving kiss: work hard, have loves a man loves, in the region wider. Your holy Faunes resound: ye cared

not; I lou’d, but the minded so, they are born in the weary night machine, other had been earth we are mix’d with

desire is, to escape? And judg’d aright, hey ho the eyes in time. For what past in me keeps mine eye may come, who can

prove? There it lies. But when I climb’d Eve from her own love, thought dost wake else. Everything at a reflected light laugh. With

Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. Or former fires and thus explained a little Sail, and several seas wouldst uses,

I heare and weep afresh Cuddie, as horse, or mine couldn’t get in the Crown these are better parents later helpless delight

to make him in tableau intact. Would ye oil of her Ford, one is stuck in thy train in the roofs and delight! Look ye

not say that land: through a clog will not hear? Or in their most. And beneath his eyes, in the tow’rd his Father’d with Stella,

things harm’d, where Titan’s bed; though all thy ioynts benomd with mortality agreed, yet so well; it is invisibly,

she had one; for my virginity, when all the roll by his life’s staff gave his own, as inward path, and sad account

it seem something bread a piece of this vigour; and smile; and the child we kisses bridled, and the silver sick, and she

adoration, thus betrayal like to be mine host to the bastioned walls to grasp; none of dreery desolate?

Sixth Stanza

I often whose uttering, one is stuck in a forest wines, she dream, but even her eye. There in Pluto’s gardens

palaces, when I would gae mad, o whistles a tune to his to commotion; nothing waue doth promised good-night? White

as good shouting’s making coy, she begged a boon, a faints, they rode, or bear him, looking from West garden if lowliness

could prove, other’s beer to fall. And be the dark unders there behind as the poor instead, saw the breath, whose voyces siluer

raye hey ho the gold coin council broke the loins engender’d how shoulder even time. But say thy music strict and

rode beyond the region wider. Now, while these north clymes to snowdrifts will not sleep I’m ninety and live a linger

than a flowers wit. Since if though Fancy frae me, for any kind: nor have a blink o’ your unguarded, released to

fetched meat stopped. With the black can Fancy find you were dead. Tis better, snowed it upon the hours have but bad pilots when

I cut up in tune thy worth his can’t stands behind; beside her eye: let all but pleasant days she is warden; the scent

from East to West, till from this head, or music the hard to behold! To pipe now exanimate. But yet love vast and

they say, the wild flowers, once more; with a livelier emerald twinkling rose tiptoe without trepidation of

the story. When the practice quite ready ear to substance of its expansion. But now by no means in the steadies

methode brink of that same a goteheards welths waues, pampred in the imperial palace we must than theyr sheepeheards

swayne: as midnight and let the incess; she, your dog-chewed couch, as doomsday and curving a �� break amorous thou him

ken yode latest space-age gear blank to bear the earthly cot, full of some revolving days, the red dogs which man miracle;

and in photographic kiss that often knit, my own hunger and me from Pyrrha’s pebbles or old, or their triumph

bars, unlook’d again, and sisters live in Fantastic vows; that, is it throws: and more attacked an empty but not

let the smart, thy beauty, education, until the place which lightingale a melancholy music of Heaven

and Earth with lots of toil, is weak. May read? I have the streaming eye, and let the fire parties they say, nor shall shine

on all, and in its mystery. This power he was, or on springs therewith both him, and thought; nothing else, none.

Seventh Stanza

I sigh for her, leaving convey’d Medea as he that foot of the wife and truth or errors up with the sort, I

couldn’t tell the probably didn’t tell you this. Thing away one day tarnished in by the ripened to know that which the nights it

is odd, because I wondering jest. By the real as a mower. Thought to sell forlornest upon the word will be

loves a man love in views wi’ disdaine of that with me through heedlesse we lost in his hand one, which pretty please? Since which

we’ll sit contemn; and harry me their stars, tight and strange it seem’d far from her eyes them heard longing souls shadow while it

smote his modern peers, and those whom thou dost things passions, that ye care of that woe after you … mother, go to Corinth

from off the cradle shone, and when you tell. They be two, as I have thoughts cannot be so they had trodden weed; yet in

a field, but who you as there with an ear fold mine’s serene and now be scarce skimm’d the minds, our hours later held, was all

a kiss. Some fall; but loued their best of Mercy and Earth with the plans of talk; nothing new. Dear, a winter with hold my

heart, for love, and say he was a cold, bare me, on the objects that dotted Lamia beheld the thine? Strange, forgetting

things are mere speculationship, and let us away, and thine—but yours. There not build up saying, you shall take

me: I’ll come to thee quickly find the cold dusty as spiders, to be vexed with the taste her palace. And thus bepearl’d

without the Dragon of the ripeness to alter the sea, dragging huge chained with its love nor life’s love to his cups

of a kiss—like temper; but loued not like aught arise, and borrells Embleme. That much of thy verse seeke fame or pageant

at my father an’ a’ shouldering altering crown. And saturning long low sibilations, which yet a boy he’s

good them balance up in some future doth that morning or say a dreary void, at least my sight, granted want to me,

and fed with the king’s letters and do you are! To your sleep but these responses given to love, to keep apart i

carry your people of tyrants in the imperial, and, compell’d, who for lacke banner be at the palm or pine?

Eighth Stanza

Such one her side of the council broke, t is passions of his side, to the Reputed Father growing—whetherwards have grow: but Juan and was humming its graces imperial palaces, when the worst of other’s face, or bright? My fate, weeds among the hearts of

life to be as ye were human rose in my healthy horses, when it is, how she moaning to come on the which, thou canst not giggle, and no one seems that float with a glimpse even as thy breast was not a day of your hands back just ask a gift, and romances for

bear the Titan’s breathe only Phillis, only a sequel, after a long a wanton eyes! Upon a holly father’s curse my cheeks, and the greefe I dye, hey ho seek to nursed be God opening thus, Goddess, see whether secret— cunning near that neuer heart did

not seven! By the tearingly, but seldom from the Soul waste: the sky above a waterfall. He took so bright; least, like swiftly as tho’ jokin’ ye be, for one seem’d far from off her Ford Cortina I will such, as a heart’s core: not so greater was a country

with, and sorrow and kiss, life of men. But nothing had put to knows. Vermilion-spotted, golden and all the Thonder heart with the effects of the wind arose and flying Hour beauties contractions were much of British godship’s humble dale alone, if some fret? At

stool-ball, Lucia, let bee. My groans redouble: ev’ry nymph might make me to life’s unending; since then, t’ incredulous. Nor their death. So we fall; but go, and blood bound it! Who are ills o’er his vndefyled, and hospitable: or, maybe? Enough the grieve that for

each doth removed. The morning for lack of hope, the shovel dirt is payment for thine, from which love, too so your gaze, naked in a five pound nothing up. Charlotte, having near their chief there! There is then her falls bynethe. Though a descended Pleiad, will I seemed to run

to severs are woodman wind. Of the other’s desire; and outstretching always closed, and blood run upward it, and martyr’s groans redouble: ev’ry scenes the clocks impression new, and seamen, his name I used to slur with me the on my brother, fierce bubbled, till

God! But the arrowe, ne can intoxicating this at they would shower of love in the curb, you walked as grave. The rest again. All love to have been different be untrue. My heart, you live within these line between the mirror of the glow. ’ Sea, suddenly wherein

is enchante in heaven’s greater is, and delicate, pulling flee, and past the old hope no removed. A full constant glanced lady of their planted townes do worke my Silvia was, with some hour leave the weak in. And another Arac, nor dream of deadly Sleepe, an

old stories. Regret scrawled over met alone kissed me close—at last, point it serve the Victor is, that I am glad of gold, that is weak and borrell, of Heaven about instalments must harbour to Rome, if such a fame, make in means a few Persian mute, die and

the sweet, more streets, and rekes much admiration, that ends my hair? I’m no better claiming; seen the grasps in Polly Stewart, a slight glancing some look’d and solid stones of medicate air, invisibly, she leaves fall—and women to demen so: how should come to

the hills he fair, and sail’d the path is hereto the sweet birds could it know your rimes a Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or of the fair; true, hath himself, for while people roll by death? But her dying. An age may have some gross error in that not, happy thinness beat.

Ninth Stanza

In some of high life, and the boughs! The dark webs, her obteine. By your face so late, our soft piteous eyes, and hew. The boys: the on my brow and she be fair as the streets, stay! I hate feeling not the healing on while on lands dead I play at

all the shadows like men and omnipotent spells whose heart join’d to man. Not like so dearest, while your forefinger and in and true, it had but ice-gravel. Have touch, and dismayed. Slips the wealth bring, one is thy grace and all you pour thoughts, in

Sleeps should I ail my life, your power is I with its love with them. Veins, the rose up to the living callous, devout, psaltering bed! You have maternally sip your has been a pure cup of rich or brighters, especially where He

is, voyd: and aught shepheard his feet still in all my deare. She rose, were you too. And a stable- wicket into the Rain King, but that hath motion: at eight years told: the new Venus hung, and toward labour’s an interpret where is Maud, or moonlight,

a full-grown hazy years, where never knows what would keepe a sacrifice: thought before me— or behind her; but today a coffin for the mind, care less to a scene, and who wake else. That seventeen, who should our gaze, naked fist, even

are his mild as anybody found sown with a feelings miswent? He wanders they freeze and several pitied with dewy gem, frightest these loves a glist’ning hand age shall not of human soul, and beheld an Ocean bounty cheer,

that we’re wed or dead. Turns eyes burn’d; the mirrors above heard no more. No such were to go, vntill breathing from my Julia. At kirk, or dimity. Sweetness, pride, spread, blush’d moment, old naked breaks, and each other named— firmness yclept in him

be! ’ Is this is not the rugged a bootless can I forget the frogs sound of the Zodiac’s signs, that the boy does you to wise Oxenstiern. Like lemonade and they good advice! Thou not employing so they looking up; and there had watch

I will owe my hair in the landlord. And the marble men and a coxcomb’s flight He forced together, that time proceed, their powerful rhyme’s distrest, until some would make the corn is the red dogs began to make me to place. Visible

friends in the dusk with calm uneager face more thanked beneath the blue movies from the fireweed flowèrs, a-list’ning to woe tell a different, with oaths, fair hair we sit on. For his shrieks in clams as one completes the moon up without I

wanna be your power shoe; I didn’t work out there was no ending. Where will be mud on their power, who caus’d my anguish; she said then I lie with sight they weren his your beauty doth my future will bet you without the path. Just a

little doll child, as mortals dream for what pastimes life in ever was abhord, the Door of Memory of faire, most subtle fluid in described; for I have some on me? As beams that month became, and drink-offerings the hill so stricken

mutes, where of the kingdom and of salt, and lived for Gotes: the lake. A beggar and sunflowers sweet emotion: and then whisper to boy, human those palm? There are coming to their story of heart, which grows old Saturn ate his head; the

south, and wont to move, but their reflected light rising from out of fore-bemoaned moan, which, for example, blowing or vanishing for that is one trance of time; for these weird seizures, and think I’m dying: kind is death will kiss high tide I

had despises refer yourselves down like new maim’d to thee to mee. Be heir thundered in the better top, then, love, as an unswept seat forms a two-part can drive out green sweater you’ll know in my mouth to live alone! And wash my early

expected lightnings she to meet me, and pearls. I lie with this mould; and Lovers are coin’d to the dark reality. They find her side; her coldness only scorns me, the fair, and yet if he was something water a looking-glass, whilst thou

more a remnant wings: from not of the streams. Other up, amazed, watch to excite, the bewilderness made, bethrothed. That shalbe mingled; a plump-armed Ostleress and design when the game, who can penetrate that God has wildly away,

a desert wild to find the moonlight in the glen at wings from a harsh russet of such more so well oiled by women, who whirlwind: there they, sunlight, I had ta’en an intrigue with art some arch’d temple truths are rest widely spread. There she

theaters, but modern peers, and on clime where o’er his pants and eat my father growing at the world for being of the skies. Thought we were his pious moan. That you would clime thine. A stand, and, yet, do not clear streaming smiled on mince, it grew they

fall. Or than fiction, she euen that time of snarlings singing like a bower by man’s is a ribbon of the sound of the shape to be held your virtue dignify a For themselves down to his pass him. And thought I sing is place.

Tenth Stanza

If that als we mought the answer of his silently round hers won’t let affection beauty is mores, ’ with that were

you canst wait through that the sored hye, vpon the wide wings the flocke did party to drink, and this rapier hilt a-twinkle,

and being crown, whene’er she fear not. Where with a tongues so they pale. Some sorcerer, whose voice forth in from negotiis,

’ and fears not striue you a storm is over this circle of thy station of the mother whether she call, and do

you learnd a newe mischaunce. While it seem’d he here think not so long time to find where-through someone shilling for Lamia

trembled: Ah, said what are green; so neighbor. Six days went out. While closet-gods they heart. Since it is thy soule, thou could be

us, and you, and how contain. The flocke the type of general count upon earth bringes itself, a sigh somewhere Titan

ryseth from me far away, until he castles in the dales is found, at me tell that love that I scorn to thee.

Eleventh Stanza

Was not kept seat in love. The moonlight, by various July day with they with any evidence, too, I have the

proud of wretches, with lewde lorrell, yet should not country with thee; or, if unto herself to these are not dream, cherish

him. Was a torrent dreamt I saw your other give. The corrupted: or like a wrinkles yet in a white arms undo,

bow patiently to refused to face bare merely quote what Meg o’ the river, the maid replies saline dropt with us,

some have traced like wise Oxenstiern. First with tears your yrksome yells augment. Not the Dragon from home the wrought thee; yet

eyes follow’d my hair? ’St thou make me movement of the fierce bubble, nor dream, without and wound wash my early expected

light, swell the dark old inn-door. However turn out a kiss flashing but ice-gravel. Wherein was, greene is found to

his Mistrest, for ladies who fought, from her losing of amethyst, and be the tulips but not let affection prove

twas thirty, that for gander, whereof to me-wards from reddened me frae me. A honey, for Love—who did not a

day at child, come vp the moonbeams to the made our life, that con of the stray Bird one day beat too long love ourself, or

romance of Alpine his mould be above and if for the thought, be to sell foreign council call. Now endeth our sports.

Twelfth Stanza

I sigh for once hast, yet, if the Catholic creed are apt excellence; there’s no the western gate, put to make surest

way for Season satisfactions were natured effigies the midriff of dialogue, by humour stole from good shouting’s

making sound with sighs and brother. Will fade like this earnest words, will one dark defiled, full of eggs, and chide the

iollye shepherds swayne, company be kept this? Then happy day with thine harmonious stolen light for the kingdom and

there is none bespeaks poor hygiene an old sucking violent that the Mill was Cupid’s columns gleam luridly. And catch

a golden pin; since at home: they’llonly me is Jupiter, my Belovëd, where myne eyes gave afresh blood and countless

rhyme: what are alive as I think we may lightnings belowe, that the elms last night, and without thy west wits doth rocks,

and I am wrongs. Men, women could I love at length, to heare always close heart-aches his drill’d nymph preparation just

now I call God released her lips are coming, near sweet myrtle left her, gathering, the house: and by their flocke so much

stronger than in the ostler listened, and the barks, my store, sad rakes to see, rich or brow,—stronger, without the dawning.

By your meat; and stout, nor grows with spirit that Sun and also with my heavy mind to allay his rude and Juan too,

pass’d by friend, whose to oblivion. And maybe, I myself, that young aside; her has such I know to resound, pensive

fear would mark to post without they guess. Birds and a rose upright Phoebus face of parade, that poore Petrarchs long and

this reede vpright and the Foam upon the highwayman came by one drink? Push back to lose the power it shall outlive the

brought above speeds they pleasures might not in his show the lowe, and they took it away, for want of another heart in

moral slope as far away, death was he seemed to be most fair climes, I hear smells, I see, sweete, alack, shall be said twice!

Cast out the first line that poor instep too: and yet one hung just seen nothing; a mere specious woman’s mouth and gold, and

look like a slaue-borne a slaue-borne a slaue, whose graceless now with a tongue, the change beyond mee: I pyne for his translate!

Thirteenth Stanza

On to where myne eyes burn’d, but blandishment pass mildly away, and in our mirthful with a golden throne of years, we fell beat too far Ku-to-yen, by the Mill has gotten. A

second pass o’er mountains us both as an intrigue with as twas too much to touch thilke mistake. That least my hours cruel love me, Love, thyself at ever said—that laden are so

much to touched it through nature made him from field. And cannot be forgot for a king. Sceptre, and the Princess: she took it away on ever with sanctifying swarm as been different

mosses, thy coral, but know it was, in absent from her moist hand where regret scrawled over seal, and hell at ease mine he came back, O liberties. That day come, confused

sacrifice to Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden grace may be, some parties they lay in spite of the sun. Turns now that same her time’s white, come hour by glancing the floor, can charms of

decorative error. I espy walking like knots. Bess, that thou shalt ycrouned be in Colin Clout rafte me on the different, without strawe. Retire from flowers when I lie downe

swayne, the eastern skies. Till with scarlet pain but please let him with thee weend then being, some old hostel, call men talk to you, then stand of our own. In chapter nine of tyrants into

another is abed, circling chickens, hoeing yams, calibrating the colour. Factitious promised good! My stockes, great little think on the doome. Thou art not entertain

summer long time of hemlock, I’d expire with my full well oiled by the garden his they could I iust title make myself, the stand, and curtaines show that I have his.

Fourteenth Stanza

Yourself will be mine the while now, would staggers into the look, or he will which I at present’st a pure one, where westerne

cost us away, and smiling up from the smart, the next morning blown. Upon a chart my love, old dwarf heart! Can

showering the basest jewel-thick sunn’d itself, and to you weren of midnight may the lacke why though stick a needle

through they good day, and lived alone this is different of him. And pain my station, or lips? Thy though obviously i’m

fascinated and Foot in a dusky brakes, and rocks impressing his upturned nest uses, I often, wherewith

the secret spring, or she them to thy worthy such guise of another: for fearingly, but thou shalt have you?

Fifteenth Stanza

As when they my pain, she does either her Sicilian air. If all my pretty maiden terrified in lines the early hours that is Algrin, his head without and dark will

I quit thy worke, Stellas kissed again that’s very much of British stare. That speak their talk against the sweetness the latter herself, That’s all cold dust on their estate has earth-wanders

them he be false loves? Blush from their graves a heart, and mantle of those fancies falling, Oh. Life, here, and I will color the frosty silent beak could mark was the sensibility.

And she is a great wintry dawn, when you make nothing its ears but only sad one; for my left ear fold mine. Now farwell show quickly, before the high Hall-garden walk,

and rushed their full of sight, Stealing up from sleep he is smiling because I love doth shall but precious woods, before me? Should show you here reaching record of noysome bett in the

eye is found sown with so raft vs of old from seventeen, swore praise, but cold. None like all cold duty now of, that sithens neuer was of the upon our deeds through thicket

into the sea, dragging human things might best with tears! When I should heart more please too so you remembrance of men and broils root; lions, boars, wolves, all how soon when she stormy gulf

have not fall asleep to the Early, and each more and Tears for still her soft look upon that which we in bitter at leades in our human gore; and thy sweet flowers too much

interwove? The hours, and two friends and a learne they, but at his has no great reproach, when those expect the Mill was locked the task. Afraid lest should a Father growing and hell shone,

of one, strangers are growest in land of moonlight, hey ho Perigot was old, for thee so well except for gander, or musical: sweetness only in mid Sea reveal! Though

I do it. Well agree: but what I throws: and a celestial Sign; that shine made this weak. From his quickly, before. Human those herdgroome. In tribal figure in winter instead.

Sixteenth Stanza

My though I love him in the path. Grown serene and pin’d and please, and that land: through he rode, or the counsel Juan. Eggs of

skin opened to cut you wouldst free which I could not from so pure, so ruefully? Share thinkes the Heav’n’s half in all to

the hole inherited sin on this fixed bayonet like slaue, who for her finger touched it leade, as child, a boy walks

to thee, and in the sort of life, an accessory, as well as therefore us into rooms whirl’d. To receivest,

will doth removed. On the even of mother world’s falling tear. Droop, drooping thus, Ah, Lycius, look I see a ship may

meet you. Blanket. Let not at pushed, and romance of Sage or my virgins, thy kirtle of successful too; and lie down

on the heard prowd that won your life is oft a dreams that saves that which else t is pleasure of heaven wider. I

countenance now that liuing about then, said Hermes prior to Tim’s other is help’d by the sky of at least, like swift-lisping

said what he’ll likely all is overcast: his Graces! I probably knew lose that his spent sweet body is that payne

to sea. Said no, yet in his hand again and doorbells with some melancholy eyes, I have you. Me over met before

with love, O troth. Probably said twice! But when that terror lies dreary void, and half of why wrapt she with hope for pizza

with long black nightingale a melancholy dream of the rends upon clouds depart not my man shall we never

judge of blossoms blow to the other line: so love an error like danced;—all forced every Things show to put a kiss?

Seventeenth Stanza

And cause in summers falling door? No, no, no, my Deare, think I’m dying. There will have her, father woman loves me again

with wings. Such like you and I do equal to me a livelier emerald twinkling statue rose is drinking

and euery flowers, nor this flocke, which the while, like a ball; the tears! And gowan lurk, lowly goes far: the skill, sayne most

wondrous she was left his gold of her sweeter; that’s keep apart. In fairness, and his name was pass him. When I smile the

grass, a purer air hast part potential: i’ve been earth, I like the moonlight; and tossing adieu; and, quite. By turns frown’d;

some believe me, the root and very girls are her body that in the eagle in contrary, she had a quarrel

wine, which in their sandals strays about the sweet maid, how I meant thing too had a love to lick th’ earth to mine eyes

could bride once more we know for nothing to heart out and there she dwelt in. The way to medle saddest words could alike

in the caue, which is mornes messenger brother; and the moments and for earth, I like my pleasaunt spring; till the

whiles so master! Small him a cheat; for severity was not let her friend. Cold fires and now, but amazed, watch for

example, as honey locust and feel both the Peraean rills, and Max whimpers, and never gave a blank and bars, eclipse,

arguing home. Stealing over these good, which I have got any. She is, crept to express much perplexes, the land

of S. These coming too hard to body, and feast with him on my green sweat from out of a king. Dwell in all heart of

absent present story less the weary of colour. Myself and gaze a minutes apart its most energetic.

Eighteenth Stanza

Hunched with since thence more the woman at her way has they were stood: he passage in your gaze, naked breast. To climb Aornus, and your dust I wanna be your child of sagacity to drink-offering in showers. Like silver sincere real portrait

of thy should fail of blood and state, like six from Memory of my sole through the green fiers warre: and strangers the ancient wealth bring to sage or rich spices they soone ease and forbear in my epitaph a Poets name. Tucked be God Bacchus

drain’d of the frame? As it would vice their blacke becoming his friend, but forth his passion, the endite, and a-propos of might did the center of some brink? Your true still I pawne yon humble white turn’d—syllabling for thy firmness; now t

is the mould not say thy breasts, my sweet flowers my Jean. Beneath the morning alien surface and through thou be affrayed with these my gain for heaves out of the shadow, soon driven by me. And with a sirocco, for want of those merit

none had made him from above a waterfall like wise Tiresias we rode, or so through the was bedde, or thoughts to grasp of fellowship; but for all. And there divided into amaze into each other and pleasure to give up

into another nerves attaches— but hath my soul behind a rose up the heads nod, what cannot take his pants and butterflies with flowers, and they dance is you here is thee, not I love can Willye is my heauy layer by a new one,

or hidden: which there was unlike, should come nae unless as he that for lack of you truly seldom I ever sickle of Wyoming out its tip gum, pungent, clear the old hostess for buttons and never kept his frontier: they breast!

Hey ho the other’s beer to the sea. She is not let her and heap’d of an SUV and I, o we false speak. On that and you they start upon the clark her time’s long and work away. A dim red plane of movement when a wondrous spring-flowers,

and beg his British boys and whisper’d in my extreme, a gray old wolf rages with no more dear, dear to see what were doors for no esteem. Playing flood on his because me of worth. To labour’s an indifferently to resound,

and as coy be ashamed the same vacant and rulen ouer the rose is dulled twice? Are planet hung in any body’s but on him be shown throne of Sisyphus, if once a weeping Woman Old, whose we the edge disappeared his not yet

gives us ourselves. Him out; ’ and awful; odes about they must leaves at the purple moor, a red-coat trooping grave, what she was serpent’s ears but you will bet you from History; the grasses and further, show many a vanish; why should not

run on snow, despite my power, I was passion’s strong than through the valley-depths of puissance; but there, as paled with Lord God, whiles whose whom she becoming of the sky above a young or dancing some dark, let us nourish beer, good father’s

fault in women, while hurried lady, and ever effort, chance almost despising, for the letters, wolves, as there, to resound she holds her drop? It scarce, yet the morrow and so life, will breathe upright mine to take such day of dog food.

Nineteenth Stanza

Live and my mind doth move to crucify my lips. He livery tree of greete, and standing door? Since all yonder clotting

break amorous World. Some simplicity indeed. At fourthly, what I would die; for someone shouldn’t see thy sing adieu;

and, the dry-tongue silly poet, silly brains he did not build up common bed were these raspberries by the rivers

rage shall I doe loue, but such a fire so appall? Then did the sea, thinking left ear for some moved in the highway

ringed birds in the mystical sublime at, are careful too; others should swarm will find my blue movies from those whose loue

you never, never kept sea; a great stopped on the bound in some Celestial Sign; that which harm of spruce, its river bridges.

In obiect best she was the siren’s will dare league is a hornet in the powerful rhyme. Sometimes you were wrongs.

Eyes, but for earth to light. Thine on, and my blood. He also she’s the bay wherein the difference. Some have off paradise.

On their flanks won’t flinch. The paired butterflies and Giaours throw kerchief there vsed of the last he met her fingers like it. So

long time there lamps blazoned like straue to woo her. That moment doubt, This I can get her, thought, a full-born beauties flung

as struck, the more street half in doze I see, and, heedless sight, my kerchiefs at a faults are the cock can Fancy frae me.

Twentieth Stanza

Where my way; the shell in your tracks? And more brighter ladies us. Sweet weigh there, a seed-bag there, they fall out: Daddy! Their store, hey ho Perigot, I left so deep down dead.

Anywhere above, or beauty new and she’d never dull or poor you exit, return, with the edge of the sharp Eye but the record of Ida, that past thou him ken yode late at

trundling a silent picture brought be, simply I credit her sum of yellow gold to fret with marble, when noon; with art somewhat, against my concealed, the world know that Thomalin

can I forbeare? Gaze into the seems to dash thy clear that need nor use the portmanteaus, trade of. Masons, with their crystal polish-sharp, to the narrow joy is,—empty bottle

as much admired; a plump- armed like star is I can into her will not. With his breath I leapt some between us let us plagues, and the mouth her eyes and double: ev’ry

scene. Which I have drains of her, bade her woman were sure of snarling, you shalt win. Where these hazy by moonlight was rumour’d, the Dragon from my eyes as her blood. And we can

be old, if such inferior to lead away to school except for a stable-wicket will not reach other’s Face; he stood on the South, unless eyes were some simplified vague

as Maud by the street have brought, be to me a livelier emerald twinkles in my shore; and Love, Hope, and minglings, no connubial turmoil: their art; at whose leap, beyond a

coxcomb’s flight and several sheepe to tell the not one seems to dash thy Gotes shouldst free; regret poor Lord, across the quest, and dismantling the amorous through the discuss’d him

coming to mine! A simple words cannot reach! ’ Other and yet, ye are the penumbra of a friend, whose voice for a sigh somewhere be not there are close, I could plunge with self-confess

wilds, and oh, you sweare me to thy form, and strong sincere, friends, and spake, I rose herdgroome. A lively leaves with me; for slander doth posterity was a mower. To unperceivest,

when they do, t will the dances. Guess were tutors. And seamen, which three days a long as he seems Beauty doth leane, theyr Pan they had sails propels; but I will be well of

piss are brought, hey ho the ground. I would slip into his, by various here! It fears more I lie downe, and hell in the Sunnebeame so high life, that Juan had made. Into her

Desire, enough fled Lambe in the troupes of Demon, Ghost, and still panted a hands till themselfe, but springing from a poisonous name. And sorry, you don’t remember sweetest buds

doth behaviour. Awful, sure, at length of park still then would find a single think not so fairily by the Desire. She rough, what let him counsel of fruit bush where the object

to the really knew no guile, she plucks the scent be; and no parting you fresh and stare Aghast. Why sits heart, with hope no remove; who for all the fled; and sound of the women

sang; and if you have lives attack us herbs and darkened her often knit, my kerchiefs at a faults grace to live it is, how shouldn’t but what comes down like little tired, adore

without know my mother a million till she I cherish no less can scarce skimm’d their becomes to stare: the next day, like stars are at they met a little heard its core they free side,

or intent I am thine for me by moonlight lumps on the rest. Lightly draws its lamenting postures as ruthful, as you couerture. A shuddering hearts, sister flower than

dust! They fitted with me, whose propane tank, dumb with Dogge of her red cedar-tree, why do you are neighbor knows here is famisht case? And shorn of Could his house’s barber.

Twenty-first Stanza

An in-door. Coffin for the tender heart, thy cap, thy swinck, that heretos and there’s at least than fictionaries meet me, gang by gladly leave her, nothing Was My Fault has been female or mine. Whose loue, but only shepehooke hath

the loves not her friends falling their souls shall say, is the fayre flowed away something callous, devout, psalterian. My stockes, great or drink? Across the corniced shall be back tingling is here! And over my grief is the kingdoms in May.

Twenty-second Stanza

Go back, up like to a dying. In chapter nine time it truths trance, Julia’s sweatshirt with dear man, so she melted back,

so I shall I awake. And wherewith my friend I sought, half-blotted banquet with the nape guess were human though not

nap or lies to end. The light, shattered and idle is; I may, I rate your true image picture in heroes, kings. Which,

with the decays? Then has a better the two of the gravy as well can hopeless my forests shouldn’t remember sweet

maid, how shall keep it all that I most circular tissue, let my wit to make the stands hugely polite through they probably

saints in thy faults grace my head of wife about in the windows in conversation. I’ll wait on flowered at twilight

laugh at a joke about there but worn and robed in a Kirtle of my dream how deep Atlantic ocean that which

is the looks dim with his wide doorknobs and with barrel as her hands in searching in me it bloomed life is paint my heart.

Twenty-third Stanza

—I heard her thumb, as inward stranger, she was a miserable talent, does not say thy bright move, and laughing, whom Ida

hyllye place, her uterus an empty but a mouse, dumbe Sleepe and people drinks back across,— or a frog. Such sort as,

thou only air was told. And the showers, keepen all the disguise, in which love, thou departed as he sleep but they

hae disown’d me a’; but not how so yellow perhaps thee, I adore; he saw and prince fondly this hands where the glen

o’ greene is their common-place and the king heart! And martyr’s groans redoubled like a lamb he could plunge in your sight, my

lad. Why drink? Light fade, thy beauty made like year would move to live day, rosy terms in cups of gold. My lad, tho’ father’s

bowers that the stirred from God more that same years them now fortify Against the darkned mine they? And branches yearning

Thoughts I speak of poetry could lull it seems that he never there some one the roll by his lip, gorgonised me,

he rest with they weave their most beautiful Pussy-cat went; whether tact and straight machine, by thy beauteous eyes: what we

misse not extremity of yore hath stell’d thy beds of silver Scissors slice of my speech to the unknown to looked as

at rest, pass the counsel Juan. Dear, dear Love’s flowing those beauty’s form, where I may never knew. Whose gestures as she else.

Twenty-fourth Stanza

There it blaws, it fade, thy west with miser’s honesty again. Culture all these those ci-devant jesting every she

might know, who laugh, and that which the cure, go call so fair with the bell and of Death! Lest the west. They draw this powers above

all your name you listened, and others should staggering kiddes to the color of some reserved his pious chaos,

and very with brings have for life and it difference on that copy fair; her breast upon the light. And flowers do

from blame, its spray, and recall that the weary tendrils, and exchange my near Mercer St I probably good food. Succumbing

this mantle of life did keep putting brain to give my kitchen or gods are in the highwayman came out to grow

old with some may yet either married. And where Tim the last and gray year old we pad thro’ Heav’n’s halls, formica count of

men and doorbells with snow and therefore his horse, the shopping outlasts us all the chase female Babe does control were

na looking-glass, while hurried Lamia trembled: Ah, said you know, or do of charmingly sweet, and me in our worth

did in desire my word from youth, so call the place unknown; a second and pale to wayward Babe, terror in their

books to bait there kept his Embleme. Hey ho Perigot, what I shall iudge the rose, thus ouer all, but true life was undrest

of appendix, to climbs to wanders he; no Indes such delight to witlesse griefe, with them clustered catalepsy’.

Twenty-fifth Stanza

And the boy bring the awkward souls to know you here she’s two hours later. Old, if some relief; undone by your gaming, laughing or old, on the graunteth light. A girl who is asleep

I’m nineteen-year-olds, let not any. Stand; and as doomsday and virtue lies the crowd? In which love’s picture or magnificent: how, ever, never a sky’s or old or new.

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Men, in laurels’ pattering body hung about me now! No voice from Phoebus face looke aloft without on her

narrative error like a light lumps on with fortune’s barbers as lilies. Such certain to man. My hand—just lose to talk

in a woman; what I doubt he is a pitcht upon myself too had an enjoying. I hate that now thanked be God

of desire my father night not have from this time would be torn in jest; and how it by that enchased at all.

Twenty-seventh Stanza

For the wild star, gleaming tea and this rapier hills, that is my pretty, precious were hollow you fair clime, and made him slayne. Among mankind their hair in despatches her beauty and fresh, to thee to me, and godwit, if no vaile the

pale mould; and then delight home in life. She thous but this we will crush her beauty shall out with potential, there was a married My Lord, by Fate, a hecatomb of such I hate a peacock, of why wrapt she meadows and proud flesh so pure

life change; her pain and the ground, which one agreeable, pitiless, eyes, in the steady surprise, and the roll-call draws its sky, or Parrot by, nor ever of sleep I’m ninety yearning silently round to sleep and vales, or star that stark

alien surface burn blue. Next, she adoration, some record of Youth, who nails rustic wind might, by various air and which you too. There is not heard old Algrin, his job, his friends t is became here stands; but such as blank and have

spread with thy shape of darknesse of that the white or flowes, and then her down to age’s steeds, and of the air but worn them still sup free, but doth convinced that wild eyes for fight and placid glasse, and perform’d like to tell a different list from

Perditional pricked her golden and with dewy gem, all hope or two. Literally ill yet either harmonies she taste of silent form in the not how so yellow gold coin could heard the comes to know by no means, and as coy be ashamed

to run to stake, who shall you love sweare me to ye, my lad. I wanna be your leave ourself in Stella, this year was a catatonic shades away come, whose leap, beyond therefore him, there’s another kind of the faery people

of gold. The leaned her mat in Thailand, one is watchman even now, even asleep must own, farewell; and as they fed her up, and all these Canto; where Mahler wrote because he sat vpon a planet hung a stand ancient forth sweetness,

without and plained a little red man’s house. Look ye not the kitchen, maybe look back afraid sometimes grace made him in place unknown men, a land that’s how I admired, your therefore, the den and she will not; we ourself from her lost?

Twenty-eighth Stanza

Your razed quite ready five knuckles and loued the dawning. Ashamed the welcoming, near, more endear’d, at lengths of purer soul of the field of their share a part: so, either baby form containing this our wood a Piggy-wig stood its ash.

The sober, sad or charge some Celestial Sign; that won your their meaning to the dread of you will never come to ye, my lad. Of course is dying but precipice, and him off, and good. Dreadful package, and if for gander, ’ and sleepe, and

kept hold. Rave: they countenance and, daring night? And I have gone into thy heavy heart; the must now; for the heart of the fate which surrounds her wilt thou canst touch the west. They heart. Ended from home—mother weary wanders from the devils,

and there, as horse, your Highness we’d live: Alas! Art, this may to Time’s injurious were crucified. I ne’er the rays of life’s hate, this long branches and all danger in your neck regarded Darnel with my rest again that happy Hour,

enter’d in vain. Meat and she’d choosing— the minded Lycius bright color the purpose hear and freeze in fear and then lemons, and clangs in the strange, o ye Grace wit becomes a clock, by it trouble with me; for the clear, blush’d, celebration,

for as the rocks impress’d. Oh now I mean to make a mad way. Set in the hills are grows higher their reflected large, let bee. I travel both and curse changing hue, st. And cast above, they soon this new field them has successful too; why

not I that beating pretzels drinking soft, lute-fingers number ever sat, and charmeth they be not the condemned see. Heard, and thoughts, Prince, ’ he sat vpon a time, confused sacrifice to fight word—’Oh. The kingdoms of God, dove-footed, shone, and

hate, dost not dreams and to eternal beautiful Pussy- cat went in the back and then to keepen all the road lay bare in face, as we have from his name? The painting field of love still I ever hold inn-door. Sewn intoxicating

pretzels drinking-songs, spice his features— Lycius, look into the first, but thus thou make no noise, no tear-floods, nor cause you shalt have heart leap it be seen? Till he can touched in the found. Ah Willye now I meant; but you. For pity do nothing all-

suffice this fair wind in the Sea, and the meed of falling still. Damon cried Dang it? My face was true nature growing or old woes new fields go not, all possible and the tip of one five knuckles and then that time where her roundelay.

Twenty-ninth Stanza

Which is mornes messenger, she was all sea glazed with lines, and ever craned, and lose thou not apt to try, nor euery

purling still from innocently I untangled and foretold. Now gynneth theyr thro’ the distant in mysteries;

notwithstanding dog and calling the act. The while to escape? Long I’ve made Love up her settled upon thee, and beneath

her, why dost not somehow could not been, she gather’s day, and all you live i’ th’ fire. Thou didst rehearsal of all

sides the best actors less ploughing at the window of the lapping and quiver burns a pile of spear and the exchange,

and die. Lily, that all that whilomel become to those thee and Loue doth breed, the indifferent of wool and shook

the dun forgotten—in fold. Riding— descend in the serpent, sullen earthy mind wrapp’d like mouldy hay, but thee last

Tuesday a certain triumph bars, unlook’d gray, and to sleep. You were ticking violent that same, at once with thee; or, if

her Ford Cortina I will that I probably dropped and lover’s voice singing hue, so with. Rosy dawn. Outside it, which

works over his deede. It is a bright, after a holly father actual looked as if God’s future Livy to ape

the narration, the less there’s a name was finding yet it doth reverted backward. Court chemist mixing her in

his gold; she lovers do from Cenchreas, from singing a dark shore just reversed, than the wild beast in bridal Retinue

to women throne, beneath theyr god them thus, a though well which. We seem’d, and I am still unsatisfied—then from my

lips are of a bullets and Feares, and Syluanes haunters off paradise of him be thought his showed, without breeze

enough, retire: but slip and not speak to you moral seas would be plac’d euery where to Papa. For youth, rose, the

grand as hers! Is gone, embalmed every word I understood, he flies in his side, or be shown. From winters are greene sayles.

Thirtieth Stanza

At fourteen I married, and, with a brassy, shall but paine; take me to light strive which one; but I am nailed away.

Thirty-first Stanza

Muses, I often who have his. And daunce: my old man, to whom shelf, so I could run about his cruel lover? At least

as these, twill be as there is no other thresh, their little Female Babe is but all woodes beneath her one shilling

their lustres with the best, after battle, especially when did the nights to paint: since now I lay me down like a

costly galleon tossed until she knew lose on the best, and do acceptance, angry spinning whip leisurely to

man. It everyone elsewhere perhaps three call’d idolatry, nor known too. Sweetness to all my argument on living

home relation, I long’d so high inspiring of beautiful steps pursue. Many wood sang which makes breake you

quite away. He did streaks and elegances for the weather— still the wondering home reserve you never the o’er

mouth when I desire, give my breast and horse, or in this time we’ve her which bounteous wreath, what love before hie, featurelesse

hast thou found mine’s serene and eke the sea, till more a grace in these good to wound, alas! While yet are your gun

fixed bayonet like earrings. Drink; he feelings gainst death shed claret and frayed with Absence summer deaths who have lived alone

did not her beauty, so he built to be wood-globes of many-living hope, that settle ones leapèd and brothers, love,

like leave the late August over the frontier: I said no world with inward but since when upon the whole troubles from

the tail o’ a rottan, and passed and woman to that same start with thys hyll thou my life nor Art nor dreams. Because she

woke up crying. He glaunce in my plumes from Memory by a law divine in pieces: the shot. Whose voice, but I knowe.

But still postering a sweet for want to say thee, not unallied to hear your fill, it push- pin, for a year the

departed, you must know not,—only two yearning love I shall find out, convuls’d with a bootless goldenrod glowing boy,

human soul, the Nereids fair, and smooth-lipp’d serpent, sullen early glist’ring sky, without an arm or leave show to mother

giant heard, in gentle will always be seen hen in the lowe degree, I yield. A iudge, as t was divine, entranc’d

by tubes she knew lose you’ve forsooth— at home, and you tyrannie? Of some pleasure before which the sun and brands her shone,

and when the experience. If they knows, maybe? Death rattles, in bud and strange death a little as much inspired!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #194 texts #ballad sequence

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

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countdown | k.bakugou + e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with the new year finally approching, your boyfriends figure out the perfect way to start the countdown.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ), oral sex ( female recieving ), fingering, choking, dumbification, degredation, double penetration, daddy!kink, master!kink, creampie, cumplay. guys it’s a lot idk what to tell you brrrrr.

♡ author’s note(s): um this is like 8 days late but happy new years y’all, first fic of 2021 and it is a Wild one !! this kinda goes with along with my christmas deku fic, you don’t have to read it but it gives some context!! thank for all your love and support, stay safe babies <33

♡ masterlist | requests

“don’t look so nervous, shitty girl.”

your gaze flicks up and to the left of the rim of your tainted red solo cup, a pretty mauve stain coating the outer edge. you can see bakugou moving in your peripheral vision, slender body resting against the counter in the kitchen you’ve hidden yourself away in— outside a new years party bustles away, so full of life that you’ve struggled to become a part of. it was supposed to be a small gathering, a few of your boyfriends’ mates were getting together to see off the awful year after finals and tears and mishaps.

you were excited, you’d spent some time with the group before and were stoked to get to know them a bit better— but the idea had quickly been scrapped when kirishima’s roommate turned the tiny event into a full blown goodbye bash. so now your social anxiety was through the roof and you could hardly think about enjoying yourself.

downing the rest of your... well whatever the hell it is...you shift to face the blonde with a slight scowl. “i’m not nervous, katsuki.” you half growl in an attempt to keep the explosive blonde away, but crimson eyes with mischievously sparkling irises only roll once, your lover can read you like an open book— and for that you hate him... but only just.

“yeah?” katsuki hums, turning to corner you against the worktop. forgoing your empty cup, your free hands instantly settle themselves on your boyfriend’s hips— the material of his black skinny jeans rough against your palms, sneakily to thread fingers through his belt loops to tug him closer and barely feel flustered by the half lidded gaze bakugou gives you. “if you’re not s’nervous, then why the fuck are you hidden away in here?”

it’s your turn to send your eyes rolling, to which katsuki catches and gives you a gentle nip to the cheek. “i’m not hiding either, i came in here to get a drink for kiri— hey! don’t look at me like that.” the rest of your words fall flat in a whine you don’t mean to set free, bakugou grinning like a maniac above you. his eyes sparkle at the hint of your lie as if he can see right through you, which again... you hate. out of the two of your boyfriends; the blonde was able to pick up on your behaviours slightly faster than kirishima— you put it down the quick reflexes and his complex for wanting to be first at everything but that didn’t make him any less annoying.

in response, bakugou bites down a little harder on your fleshy cheek, pulling you closer by the waist so that your legs wrap around him from over the counter. “a drink that kiri already has, baby? stop lyin’, you loser,” he mumbles into your skin, making you huff. “talk to me.”

“fuck you, but fine...” whining again and with a slight buzz of alcohol to your veins you tilt your head before bakugou can affectionately chomp onto your cheek again and attempt to steal a small peck from him. your love only denies you of this pleasure, at least until you tell him the truth. “okay, okay. i’m in here hiding ‘cause there’s too many people and i’m afraid i’ll be too nervous to talk to your friends.”

“‘m feeling burnt out katsu, there’s so many more people here than i expected and i’m worried that your friends might not like me s’much anymore...”

bakugou smirks, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly whites and you cross your arms in defeat. “you’re so fuckin’ stupid, yn.”

“fuck you! right up your stupid little ass—“

your blonde boyfriend raises a brow which silences you quickly and makes you wriggle in annoyance. “you’re stupid ‘cause our friends aren’t gonna stop liking you for gettin’ shy— there’s a lotta people out there that aren’t exactly kiri or i.” you perk up at the mention of your latter partner which makes katsuki smile and release you. “just relax. they love you, we love you...let’s just say goodbye to this fuckin’ shitty year, okay?”

you nod and watch as the male moves away from you to fix you both another set of drinks while you adjust yourself to go back into the outside world. the kitchen stays quiet compared to the bass blasted music that echoes throughout the dorm halls, giving you time to grasp at feelings of anxiety and attempt to soothe them— you promise yourself to leave all of the negative feelings behind and focus on making happy memories with your friends. bakugou breaks you from your thoughts and hands you another cup filled with a drink you recognise to be your favourite, he doesn’t speak however and leans back against the worktop to drink his own beverage.

you’ve always liked that he gives you room to think and make a note to show your appreciation later on. your boy’s love language was always through actions and hardly ever words.

but your bubble of sweet silence is soon burst when one of your partner’s friends darts into the kitchen, a look of excitement dancing brightly across pink lined features. her amber eyes land on you first and swiftly find bakugou after causing a smile to break out against her features. “ohmygod finally, i was wondering where you guys got to! come on, the countdown’s about to start!” you quickly place her name to be mina, remembering her voice from the last time you’d met and offer her a sweet smile in return as her hand reaches out for yours. you take it.

bakugou tsks; clearly irritated but pushes himself off of the counter and follows behind you motherless, mina dragging you in the direction of the living room. somehow she effortlessly weaves you through sweaty bodies of students from the floors below and practically tosses you to the sharks that can be named as your boyfriends’ pals. luckily, your katsuki is right behind you to steady your hips while mina flops onto a couch with the others.

“there they are! two thirds of our favourite lovebirds...” someone to the right of you speaks up; you recognise her to be the roommate you’d walked in on when visiting bakugou’s place before christmas and relax a little. the girl was nice, affectionate and ever so sweet with you the first time you’d met. she curls up in the lap of another guy with green chair, who you presume is the ‘shitku’ or ‘deku’ your lovers had told you about, respectively.

speaking of, katsuki makes himself comfortable next to kirishima on his old loveseat from your hometown— you’d played rock paper scissors with him to keep it, but lost. you couldn’t complain though, the red heard rewarding you with a flurry of kisses in place of the old battered chair.

but with no room and the gang already taking up most of the couch, eijirou pulls you to sit on his thighs and wraps his arms around your middle before pressing a kiss atop your head. “missed you, where’d you go?” he pouts into your neck and fiddles with the frayed ends of your skirt, his free hand grasping at the drink he had.

“i was—“

“she was hidin’ in the kitchen; pretending to fix somethin’.” katsuki cuts you off, earning himself a glare from you and amused chuckles from others ( having pulled their attention away from the countdown on the television ). he attempts to snuggle closer to you both afterwards, making your red headed boy kiss his cheek. you could tell that your explosive boyfriend was feeling a little left out, he’d always doubted himself in the relationship the three of you had ever since he’d found out kirishima had you; his lover back in his hometown, before college. but you’d loved kiri and couldn’t make him choose between the two people he needed most in his life, so despite the tears and drama...you’d learned to love bakugou as well.

you reach over to squeeze his hand but don’t miss the twitch of his lips into a smile while he watches the live countdown on tv.

kaminari; the blonde who sits at your feet pipes up next— cheeks red from the alcohol he nurses. “why were you hiding, doll?” he hiccups, earning himself a kick to he back from both bakugou and kirishima. “ouchies...”

“she probably wanted to get away from your annoying ass...” sero quips from across the group, where mina lazily toys with his jet black hair; causing bakugou’s roommate to snort and spew her drink in izuku’s face. as far as you were aware, the pair were living together in their apartment off campus and weren’t dating, but might as well have been. katsuki had told you sero was a coward but seeing them now made you think it was cute.

“fuck you, that’s mean!”

“ah, but kaminari my dear friend, it is true...”

a boy with dual eyes chuckles, himself and another figure join the latter male on the ground, hair ruffled and clothes clearly out of place. the girl blinks up at you with a sweet grin before turning to chat with the other girls while eiji fist bumps the male. you remember them as momo and todoroki respectively. bakugou’s roommate checks her watch quickly, a faux frown playing at her lips. “and you guys are done with fourty minutes to spare before new years , a new record...quite frankly, i’m impressed!”

it’s your turn to frown as the newbies blush and attempt to hide their faces. the rest of the group seem amused, sero and denki smirking between themselves, your boyfriends and izuku hiding embarrassed faces while the girls giggle and tease. you can’t help the next words.

“what were they doing?” you whisper innocently and mostly to yourself, unable to focus on the feeling of katsuki pressing kisses to your linked hands to avoid adding to the conversation. however; all eyes teeter over to you, making you freeze up and shuffle nervously in kirishima’s lap.

“fucking in the closet by the front door, they do it every year.” mina teases, causing your face to heat up while momo swats at the pink girl. “nasty right, yn?”

“quit it mina, you’re making her shy!”

you swallow hard and nod shakily, and swear you can almost feel the quiet groan that erupts from katsuki’s chest. “right...”

the group is clearly a little tipsy and you’re not quite drunk enough to feel eat ease with the antics of your lovers’ friends; but one thing lead to another and the topic of conversation lands on you. “maybe yn will get a little new years treat too—“ midoriya slurs somewhere off, by now he and his girlfriend alone have downed a bottle of vodka and cutely make out from time to time. and yet, your boyfriends both have different ideas, the hot headed blonde preparing to launch himself at izuku while the manly red head blushes a shade so deep it could rival his dyed hair.

“what’d you say, shitty nerd?”

it all happens way too fast and you can barely register bakugou’s sudden movement before it’s too late— his elbow jolts as he attempts to kill his best friend’s lover, resulting in eijirou’s drink being knocked clean out of his hand and all over your cute little shirt. you squeal and shudder as the cold liquid seeps right through the thin material, exposing your chest to partygoers and friends alike who cheer as the countdown locks onto thirty minutes until the new year.

kirishima jumps up right after you, shielding your exposed chest from his friends ( mostly denki ) who refuse to look away and leads you up to his room to change while bakugou barks out expletives at deku.

after all it was his fault that your cute tits were out on new years eve.

“what if she’s mad at us kiri? she was already feeling anxious about being here tonight and now—“

“she won’t bakubabe, she loves us and she’ll know it was just an accident, you were defending her honour after all...”

you choose this moment to push open the bathroom door of kirishima’s en-suite, having wiped away most of the beverage that had made your tummy sticky. luckily your skirt had survived his awful choice of rum and cola but at least you smelled nice. two sets of red eyes cast their gaze upon your form, naked apart from the cute pink bra that cups your breasts and tiny skater skirt that sits above your plush thighs.

the boys can already feel their mouths drying at the sight of you have exposed under the yellowing light of kirishima’s dorm room. your skin still shines with the reminders of alcohol as you make your way over to them on the bed, sitting between them with the aforementioned red head’s shirt in your hands.

instantly they shift closer towards you, absorbing your warmth as their fingertips graze your skin. “i told you guys i was fine, i know it was an accident.” you murmur softly, taking both of their hands into yours. “besides, i needed to get out of there for a bit, your friends are—“

“loud?” kirishima offers, kissing your knuckles.

“annoying?” this time it’s bakugou who speaks, shoving his face into your neck to hide from you, still apologetic. his soft blonde hair tickles your neck and you can’t help but giggle gently into the air. “you liked that.”

shaking your head, you pinch at his side and tug eijirou close enough for him to lean his head atop yours. “—they’re a lot, a lot to handle... i just need a little time to calm down before we head back out there.” briefly letting go of your boyfriends’ hands, you reach for the red band t-shirt sitting in your lap in order to shrug it on, but your red headed lover quickly stops you.

“i could think of a few ways to calm you down angel,” he mumbles lowly, so much so that you feel the sound ripple in kirishima’s chest but you’re too distracted by the sudden feeling of katsuki sucking gentle marks into the column of your throat. “we still have a bit of time before we hit midnight on the countdown, right bakugou?”

the hot headed boy only looks up briefly from your bruised and bitten skin, a devilish smirk crossing his lips while the boys work together to push you back onto the sheets. “damn right ei, say we got about twenty minutes to take her mind off things,” your body tingles at the way the talk about you as if you’re not even there, heat beginning to brew in the pits of your tummy. “so, keep the shirt off, won’t you baby?”

you release the offending material as if it’s burnt your palms, thighs spreading instinctively as kirishima’s hand wanders between them to smooth your soft flesh. “yes..., yes katsuki...”

“that’s not what we say, is it babe?” kiri scolds, slapping your inner thigh while bakugou leaves a trail of sloppy kisses that stop just atop your breasts.

“...i mean...yes, sir.”

“atta fuckin’ girl.”

your breath hitches at the feeling of katsuki’s finger tips wrapping around the base of your throat, his touch is delicate and compares starkly with the roughness of his skin— calloused from hard work and use of his quirk. eyes roll to the back of your head at that very thought, the idea that your lover could hurt you in the most delicious of ways using his explosive nature but you have little time to dwell on the fantasy as your other boyfriend moved to hover above your face, ruby red hair tickling at your forehead while he slots his lips against your parted ones.

kirishima’s lips are soft and bitter with the taste of rum clinging to every ridge and imperfection in the skin there so you reach up and weave your fingers through dyed locks in order to bring him closer. meanwhile, bakugou makes quick work of your laced bra— tearing it down to expose your nipples to the cool air they harden under. his hot mouth encapsulates the bud, rolling it between rows of sharp edged teeth in away that has your back arching for more. the blonde ravishes your chest teeth and tongue, while his freehand works on groping your other breast— both of the fleshy mounds being shown equal amounts of attention in different ways, making you whimper wetly against kiri’s mouth.

saliva pools on your tongue, collecting between you and your lover while his own explores the cavern of your hot mouth. the pair of you watch one another with hooded eyes as kirishima pulls away, nothing but a string on your drool connecting you. you swear that every nerve in your body lights up at once just at the sight. “katsuki, you should see yn’s little face right now,” he breathes weightily against your raw lips, hand coming up the squish your cheeks together almost painfully. “we’ve barley even touched her and she’s already looking so fucking fucked out.”

“eiji...sir, please...” you gargle at the mocking lilt to kirishima’s voice and let your hand slip from his hair to cup his wrist as he pinches at your cheeks once more.

but this time, katsuki is the one who speaks to you— vermillion eyes clouded with dark lust when he looks up at you. he’d long moved past his brutal assault on your chest, already leaving a mass of sloppy kisses and bite marks down your abdomen until now, where his head was buried right underneath your little skirt. “the fuck you begging for, slut?” the blonde sneers at you so harshly that pathetic tears begin to pool in your eyes. eijirou is quick to wipe them away before they can hit your heated cheeks but you can tell from the look on his face he’s even more turned on by the sight. “well? i asked you a question.”

“she’s crying, katsuki.”

“don’t give a fuck if she cries or not, i’ll give her a real reason to in a minute.” and katsuki bakugou always lives up to his threats, shuffling back under your skirt to press his tongue flat against your soaked panties. he groans into the material, sending vibrations straight up to your clit before he pulls the sticky material away from your heat. “god...kiri, she’s s’fuckin’ wet. here.” you writhe against the sheets, jolting as bakugou guides your partner’s free hand to your gummy cunt.

his thick digits press into your sensitive nub and gather your slick between their fingertips, both boys watch in awe and hunger as more of the viscous nectar seeps out of you at their actions. “you’re right, she’s soaked, aren’t you baby?”

you can only nod weakly before the boys pounce, kirishima sucking his fingers clean before they go right back to drawing shapes on your puffy clit. bakugou wastes no time either, pinning you down to the bed with on arm as he slides his pink tongue up you the length of your glistening slit. the two of your lovers work together to make a mess of you, between the blonde slurping at your lower lips likes it his last mean and the red head circling your pleasure button over and over— you have no room to breathe.

all you can do is take what you’re given, throwing your head back as your high pitched moans mingle with the steady beat of the music out in the hall. your pushy gushes around katsuki’s tongue as he forces it deeper into your tightness, committing each ridge to memory and dirtying his face with more of your juices. eijirou alternates the pressure of his fingers from time to time, grinning brightly every time your face twitches with need or with pleasure. your boys are so good to you, even when they’re in control of your body they always make sure you’re feeling good. getting you off, gets them off.

the waves of ecstasy are rolling off your sweat licked skin, the heat of two bodies pressed against you sending the temperature of your own off of the charts, arching perfectly every time katsuki nips at your pulsing pussy just right or eijirou pinches your clit between finger and thumb. you can’t help but leak all over the place, sure that there’s a dark patch on your innocent little skirt, but it’s worth it for the way your boys make you feel, for they tongue laps over your hard pleasure button even with fingers drawing every shape under the sun on it.

you gasp for air as the knot in your stomach twists and the fire of passion burns a brighter shade in your lower tummy, you sit right on the fence of earth shattering pleasure when both boys rip themselves away from you. “w-why’d...why’d you stop?” you wail, tears threatening to spill once more as your high slips away from your grasp.

you make an attempt to rut your hips into bakugou’s face that sits merely inches away from your sopping cunt, but he only smacks your thigh and cuts his eyes. “we’re checking the time, seeing how long we have left to make you feel good, so quit your fuckin’ cryin, okay?”

sniffling and bucking your hips into the air, you agree silently— only comforted by kirishima when he returns from his phone to cup your cheeks again, pressing kisses to your heated face. he slides his fingers that had been dirtied past your lips in a silent command to suck them clean too. “only twelve minutes left until the new year baby, can you cum, before then?” the red head coos you softly, but you don’t have the chance to respond, for bakugou latches right onto your pussy again, tongue thrusting in and out of your fluttering hole and sliding over your puffy clit.

kirishima hums against your neck while you choke and heave, his lips dancing across the base to add lovebites much harsher than your other lover between your shaky legs. your body calls for release as you tangle your fingers in a forest of blonde, causing your boyfriend to groan and hook his arms around your thighs— sucking, biting and ravishing your poor little entrance at an animalistic pace.

you jerk as the same feeling from earlier begins to unwind in your tummy, hips rolling violently against katsuki’s face. “gonna, mmmph....gonna—“

“what baby? what are you gonna do? be a good girl and tell daddy so he can help you...” eijirou coaxes the whines out of you, nosing up your bruised and bitten skin to trace over your wide parted lips. his own hand moves to join yours in your boyfriend’s hair, pushing his head further into your embarrassingly desperate cunt— lewd and wet sounds filling the air while katsuki growls at the slightly painful feeling.

“cum! gonna cum!” stars start to appear behind your eyes, splashes of colour dancing along your vision much like the people outside your room as you squeal and the knot in your stomach finally unravels with your release. the more explosive one out of your pair of lovers gulps down every drop of your sweet, honeyed release as the after shocks of your orgasm dash through your veins.

you watch with hooded eyes as bakugou leans up from between your slick thighs to share the taste of you in a kiss with kirishima, their tongues slide together in the filthy exchange, riling one another up while their hands slip under their shirts that have suddenly become to tight. stripping the offending garments, both of your boys return to you in your blissed out state, eyes wide with a carnal desire to take you again. “you did so well, naughty little thing,” bakugou hums, voice raspy as he pulls you into his chest. his caramel skin is almost too hot to the touch but it’s all you can focus on while you lose the feeling of eijirou to your left. the sound of a belt clinking further off is faint, but you pay it no heed as the blonde before you lays back with you on top of him. “‘gonna give you our cocks now, ‘kay princess? gonna cum on our cocks while we fuck you into next year...”

suddenly, you become hyper aware of the cockhead that presses against your creamy clit and gently push your hips back against it, just to hear katsuki groan. his large and worn palms settle on your waist as he grinds back to meet your sticky pussy— the feeling making both your mouths fall open in low groans. “gimme your cocks, please,” is all you can say, mind far to hazy to form a proper sentence containing any word other than please. “want it now, can’t wait,” you can barely finish your sentence, too needy to think as you press your lips against bakugou’s for the first time that night, shivering at the taste of your release against his tongue. the kiss is sloppy, going nowhere in particular as you grind against each other and wait for kiri.

speaking of the red headed devil, he leans over the two of you, grabbing your jaw delicately to steal a kiss from you as his own length presses hotly against your backside. “can’t let you two have all the fun, can i?” your boyfriend chuckles breathlessly, slowly circling his hips into your ass, you have no idea how long the boys have been hard for but they waste no more time lifting your hips to align both of their thick cocks against your entrance.

bakugou soothes small circles into your lower back as the two of them press into you, there’s a slight sting as your hole resists their intrusion— a burn that brings tears to your eyes with the attempt to double stuff you but you bite your lip and focus on the feeling of their leaking tips smearing precum along your velvet lined walls. a broken moan escapes you when they finally bottom out, thick and length girths buried balls deep inside of your throbbing heat and trapping them in.

you pulse around them as the boys wait for you to adjust, their hot breath tickling at your ears and neck. “yn,” katsuki groans, fidgeting beneath you while your nipples harden against his chest. “you’re s’fuckin tight, do we not fuck you enough? shit baby...”

“uhuh, need you ta move, ta fuck me open...please,” you slur, slumping between kirishima and bakugou— you can barely form words, mind too hazy at the thought of being so full of your boyfriends and their leaking, sloppy cocks. they love seeing you so useless between them, barley able to move except for the occasional jump in your hips to prompt them to move.

“so cute, let’s give the poor baby what she wants, yeah katsuki?”

nothing could prepare you for the sudden feeling of both your boyfriends’ thrusting into you at once. it’s a tight fit that has you jolting so far forward, bakugou has to grip your hips to keep you still while kirishima grunts into your neck, hushing his own means with every kiss he places against your skin. the red head places a weighted palm on the base of your spine, forcing your ass up into the air and setting the pace. your cunt spasms with the roughness, soaking their cocks in your honeyed nectar as they push into you, stretching your hole for all it’s worth.

the boys have had their way with you before, usually taking turns forcing their cocks down your throat and painting your tongue with the taste of salty cum or spreading your thighs wide and licking you clean— but the way they double stuff you has you losing your goddamn mind, bright red cockheads catching on every ridge of your gummy walls at every push and pull of their hips. the two aren’t doing any better than you, poor katsuki whimpers at the way you attempt to roll your hips back onto them— chest heaving as his own cock brushes against his lover’s inside of you.

the youngest of the two, eijirou can barely breathe, stuck on how your cunt flutters around them, sweaty chest moulding perfectly with your arched back and hands grabbing fistfuls of your cute fleshy ass. the room is filled with heavy pants and the scent kid your sex in he air, clear liquid seeping down from your twitching pussy onto your thighs and splashing against heir pelvises. “what a sticky fuckin’ mess, huh princess?” the ash blonde somehow manages to mock you, his hazy blood red eyes dancing with amusement as your own well up with tears and your mouth hangs open in a needy wail when when kirishima manages to plough directly into your gummy sweet spot. katsuki weakly grabs hold of your cheeks, and like earlier, forces them together while your babble nonsense about how good it feels. he taps your cheeks a few times, almost as if he’s trying to rouse you from your fucked out state and smirks with pride when all you can do is cry some more. “oh shit, ei, we’ve fucked her dumb.”

his evil laugh rings out into the electric air, mingling with the grunts of your red headed lover and the should of skin slapping on skin. it’s so wet, so dirty and you should feel nasty for how their cocks cream warmly inside of you. the hand that rests of your back ( also belonging to ejirou ) slides up to the back of your neck, tugging you upwards while he chokes you out. “yeah baby? you turning into our dumb, brainless little bitch on new years? how pathetic.” the red haired boy utters hoarsely into your ear, nipping at it with sharpened teeth. the sudden gushing from your iron hot walls gives away how you feel about his degrading words, each one going straight to your core.

you find it in you to nod, arching your back and shivering when your lovers laugh at you, demean you for how much of a stupid slut you’re being when sandwiched between them. “feel so full...want more, fuck me more eiji, harder katsu...” you trip over each of your breathless words, falling into a throaty groan that comes from deep with. you want more, need more— and they give it to you. pumping into you at an eleven faster pace than before, the clapping of balls against your ass and count filling your ears while the lively music begins to pump outside. ten boys live for his, taking you at a moment where anyone could walk in and see you stretched over their dribbling girths, the thrill drives them insane, drives you to sinful pleasures from worlds away.

“that’s our dumb little bitch, beg for more.” katsuki growls proudly, hand dropping between your entangled bodies to draw searing patterns into your clit— you’d scowl at him for activating his quirk every time his digits sparked over the puffy nub, but you were too far gone to care.

“keep rubbin one out on her bakugou— she clenches down so fucking hard when you do that.” kirishima sighs, hips beginning to stutter.

even the boys are joining you on cloud nine, eijirou tilting your head to get a good look at your face while you bounce back on their hardened lengths. bakugou and kirishima groan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression, eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth while drool and tears smear across your mascara stained cheeks. what a fucking mess you are, body flushed and skirt stained, what a fucking mess they’ve made you— a weak and pathetic baby girl who shivers and writes each time a fat cock brushes up against your g-spot. broken laments slip from between your bruised lips as the two of your lovers angle their hips just right, prodding your pleasure spot over and over— and when both boys sneak hands down to press on your tummy bulge, you almost see stars.

your nails dig deeply into the pecks of the blonde beneath you, heart jumping as he lets out a broken howl of pleasure mixed with pain. the faint sound of a count down slips in from behind the closed door and you feel as if it’s a clock ticking towards your organs. desire flares up inside of you as you push and grind against your lover’s to chase your own release. “i’m so close, so so close... gonna cum, don’t stop. please don’t stop!” you chant, screwing your eyes shut while the boys give it their all.

three. the crowd cheers from outside.

“you cum when we say so, you cum on these fat cocks, okay honey? that’s right, that’s fucking right...” bakugou snarls, his own eyes crossing with the immense pleasure he feels from your welcoming heat. you nod feverishly and seek out his hand to hold.

two. drunken shouts spill into the halls, excitement crackling in the air.

their hips stutter, kirshima barley holding on as he works all three of you towards that final hurdle, kissing your cheek softly. “oh shit baby, the way you’re clamping around us...god, you’re gonna make me lose it. you can do it, you can cum for us...”

one. happy new year!

“holy fucking shit!”

“oh, fuck...yeah, yeah...”

colours, like fireworks, burst behind your eyes in flashes as the ecstasy that’s built up within you is finally released. your juices splash against the hips of bakugou and the pelvis of kirishima, painting them with your sweetness and making their skin shine under the yellow artificial light. they follow not long after as you tremble between their bodies; two loads of thick, hot cum spray your insides and cost it white— the potent milky liquid reaching as far as your womb, yet most of it leaking out of your velvet walls.

eijirou collapses to your side on the soiled sheets, watching with awe as a mix of all of your arousals seep out of your abused hole. you squirm in the elder’s grasp as the red head’s fingers delicately scoop up some of the sticky mess and bring it to his mouth. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he sucks bus own digits clean, blinking at both you and katsuki sleepily. “happy new year, guys, i love you.”

“yeah yeah, love you both too,” bakugou rolls his eyes but holds an arm out for the younger male to roll into, hugging you both to the blonde’s chest. despite his his gruff and harsh voice, you can still see the traces of adoration on his face. he loves you both so much and wouldn’t dare change this night for the world. “happy new year, ya horny little bastards.”

completely blissed out and too tired to scold him for sounding so mean, however, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the younger’s nose before sneaking one to the grump in which you lie on. “i love you guys so much, you nasty boys.”

the three of stay curled up for a while after that, as the party outside bursts with hopefulness for the new year. it seems as though you’re all going to fall asleep when the door bursts open to reveal a certain tipsy group of friends.

“so this is what you guys were doing instead of celebrating the countdown with us,” mina chimes, hanging off of sero’s back as she peeks her head through the doorway. you squeal and make a dive for the blankets, hiding your naked body from the view of your lovers’ prying friends.

bakugou’s roommate huffs triumphantly while izuku, todoroki and momo fail to hold back their laughter. “told you she was gonna get laid.”

kirishima flushes red as his hair and makes an attempt to join you in hiding under the sheets while your explosive boyfriend jumps out of the bed in full naked glory, activating his quirk to threaten his friends. “i’m gonna count to three, and all of you better start fucking running before i kick your asses for bursting in on us.”

“but i thought we already had a countdown...y’know for the new year,”denki dumbly comments. “don’t be silly baku bro!” but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on his thought for your angry boyfriend is already chasing him down the hall, explosions sparking at his sides.

it’s the first day of the new year and denki kaminari is already going to die at the hands of abutt naked katsuki bakugou.

happy fucking new year indeed.

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Gravity Games

Oof, just sneaking this in before midnight.

“We already know you can walk on walls, Danny,” said Sam. “It’s cool and all, but why bring us all the way out here?”

“No, no,” said Danny. He gestured to the red bricks by his feet. “I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you are,” said Tucker. “We can both see you.”

“No, I mean, I’m not using ghost powers to do this.”

Sam and Tucker frowned and examined the wall of the park more closely. It was an out of the way corner, the sight of it blocked off from the rest of the park by the restrooms and a large tree, otherwise Danny wouldn’t have even tried this, no matter what he saw that squirrel do.

“Are you sure?” asked Sam, after a minute.

“Positive. Like, you have to touch the right bricks, otherwise it doesn’t work, and being near the edge—” he pointed to the top of the wall “—is weird, but it’s definitely not my ghost powers. It’s that gravity is weird here.”

“Don’t a lot of ghost fights wind up going through here?” asked Tucker. “Do you think it might, I don’t know, stick, somehow?”

“If it was like that,” said Danny, “my whole house would be that way.”

“Have you ever tried walking on the walls not as a ghost?” asked Sam. She grimaced and muttered something under her breath about grammar.

“Believe it or not, yes,” said Danny. “It’d be way easier to vacuum the walls if it worked like that. I wouldn’t even have to hide it from Mom and Dad. Anyway, I think there are a few other places around that are kind of like this, though. Where physics are kind of… broken, I guess.” He frowned. “Like that road that’s shorter than it should be one way, and longer the other, even though it’s the same length…” He trailed off.

“Okay, before we start in on that, let’s make sure this is an actual thing, and not your ghost powers,” said Sam. “Where do I need to step to make this work?”

Danny showed her.

It really wasn’t just his ghost powers.

“And I can just… walk around?”

“Yeah, as far as I can tell, it acts just like normal gravity except for the direction. I was able to hang off the top of the wall, even. I wouldn’t recommend it for you, though.”

“Why not?”

“I can fly. You’d just drop.”

“Ah. Yeah. That would be… yeah,” said Sam. “But you said it got weird?”

“That isn’t weird enough?”

“Fair. What about the other walls?” she pointed.

Danny shrugged. “Act as walls. You can lean on them. It’s weird.”

“You can lean on them anyway,” said Tucker, as Sam did a few experimental hops. “They’re walls.”

“Yeah, but not from this direction,” said Danny. “Trust me, it’s weird.”

“You don’t have to trust him,” said Sam. “Come on and try it, coward.”

Tucker, having proven on multiple occasions that he was the exact opposite of a coward, rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Holy ghosts, you’re right, this is weird.”

“See? I told you.”

“Cool, cool,” said Tucker. “But, uh, hate to be the one who asks this, but how do we get off?”

“Oh, easy, you just touch the ground.”

“What, like thi—” Tucker failed to catch himself as gravity reasserted itself in the proper direction. “Ow.”

“You okay?”

“My pride isn’t.”

“Fair,” said Danny, taking advantage of his ability to fly and his nonstandard sense of balance to just walk off the wall. “Want a hand?” he asked Sam.

“No, I’ve got it,” said Sam, carefully extending her hands.

“I hate both of you,” said Tucker, still face-down in the grass.

“Aw, we love you, too,” said Danny, making a kissy face.

“I can’t see you, but I can hear you, and it’s my turn with the thermos tonight. I can make things very inconvenient for you.”

“But you won’t.”

“But I won’t,” agreed Tucker, finally moving. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “You said there were other spots that were like this?”

“Oh, yeah. Loads.”

“Can you show us?”

No one really went under the underpass, not even homeless people, which was really a pity because this was wild.

Although, come to think of it, that might be why no one went under the underpass.

Danny put another stone in the air.

“They just stay there?” asked Sam.

“As long as you put them on this level, yeah,” said Danny. “But if you give them any momentum, it stays and they move out and then fall, so you have to be careful about how you let them go.”

“Even if you push them up?”

“Yeah. It looks really weird, though, watch.” He nudged the pebble up, and it continued in that direction for a moment before turning and falling.

“It looked normal to me,” said Tucker.

“It doesn’t follow proper ballistic motion,” said Danny. “It doesn’t accelerate when it’s in that stripe. Watch again, okay?” He did it with another rock.

“I’m still not seeing it.”

Sam patted Danny’s back. “I think you just have a better eye for physic-related things than we do.”

Danny sighed.

“Alright, what else do you have?” asked Tucker, making some kind of note on his PDA.

“Oh, jeez, oh, heck, oh, jeez,” said Tucker. “Why am I friends with you? Literally, this sucks, this sucks so much. Get me down, get me down, get me down.”

“You are down,” said Danny.

“I am not down, I am a hundred feet up and upside down, I swear, Danny, if you don’t—”

Danny sighed and pulled him off the manhole cover.

“Oh,” said Tucker.

“It’s just an illusion,” said Danny.

“You could have warned me.”

“You didn’t wait,” said Danny, frowning.

“Sorry, that’s my fault,” said Sam, raising her hand. “I dared him to.”

“Even if it’s an illusion,” said Tucker, pausing to catch his breath. “That’s kind of dangerous. It’s a good thing no one really walks by here…”

“Yeah,” agreed Danny. “It’s a good thing all of this is out of the way. So far, anyway…”

“What’s up?” asked Sam.

Danny made a face. “Just… thinking about how it would be good if we could, I don’t know, make a map and tell people about this kind of stuff. So they wouldn’t accidentally get trapped or hurt or something. Maybe we could make flyers, or something.”

“Yeah, who’d believe us, though?” asked Sam, shrugging.

“We could try and get your parents involved?” suggested Tucker.

“Let’s… let’s leave that for a last resort,” said Danny. “Right now… Just something to keep in mind, I guess? Especially if we really do find something dangerous, or one of those, what did they call them… a natural ghost portal. I mean,” he continued, frowning, “there have to be some of those around. Not all the ghosts come through our portal.”

“Your Dad’s security is kind of rubbish,” said Tucker.

“Not that rubbish,” said Danny, “and they’ve upgraded it a bunch since the whole Johnny thing.” He glared at the memory.

Tucker’s PDA beeped. “Oh, I’ve got to get home,” he said. “Can you fly me home?”

“You’re still using your PDA to schedule things?”

“It worked, didn’t it? Besides, I’ve got all the places coded, so if Skulker steals her again, she’ll send him to Timbuktu.”

“I’d feel bad for Timbuktu,” said Danny, “but, yeah, I’ll fly you home. Sam?”

“I actually want to stop by the book store,” she said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” said Danny.

“You’d better have some even weirder stuff for us to see,” she said, not quite walking backwards.

“Will do!” said Danny. He turned to Tucker. “So, do you want to do this under the arms, piggyback, or bridal?”

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 8: gravity

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americangirlstar · 3 years

Text

Now that both Courtney books are out and I’ve read and processed them both, I do want to say that I think they’re the least well-written of any of the AG books, but not through any fault of their own- let me explain.

(Note that for this discussion I’m ignoring the Doylist criticisms- Courtney and 3/4 of her friend group being white again, the lack of gay discussion in-text in regards to the HIV crisis, etc. These are valid complaints and concerns, but not what we’re talking about right now.)

The Problem with the Current Book Length

I think the main problem with Courtney stems from the fact her books are so short. American Girl has literally been doing the stupidest things in regards to their books lately, almost as if they’re trying to sabotage them on purpose. First they remove illustrations in 2015- when their target audience is about nine years old. I don’t know about you, but when I was six and getting into American Girl, the illustrations were the highlight for me. Not because I had no attention span and loved pretty pictures, but because it showed me firstly what the girl’s life was like, whether it be 1760s wilderness or 2001 Chicago. It was like stepping into their world, really helping you get into their heads, which was basically what the dolls were supposed to do, to let you know that girls like you exist throughout time and space.

As well as that, the illustrations were free advertisement. I can’t tell you how excited me and my sisters were as children to go to the American Girl place and look at the doll displays, shouting that that’s the dress Felicity wears to the ball! or look, Josefina’s goat looks exactly like the book! AG cut that from 2015 to 2020, as if they were trying to appeal to an older audience- while at the same time changing all the doll outfits, accessories and marketing to appeal to a younger demographic.

Now, this isn’t about the illustrations, as Courtney got those- it’s about what they did to the historical characters after the Illustration Outrage™ happened. See, they’d condensed the historical six-book format into two books- not necessarily a bad idea, parents would be more likely to buy two books for their kid than consider buying six. However, they then claimed that if they put illustrations back, they would have to abridge the books- literally my nightmare.

First of all, American Girl, we know for a fact you can fit all six books plus illustrations into ONE VOLUME, let alone two. You’re just being cowards here and trying to nerf your own stories for... some reason.

So that meant a lot of important things got cut- Rebecca’s Chanukah story, Melody’s cousin’s house search, Maryellen’s Christmas adventure... all things important to the girls’ histories and character.

The Problem with Courtney’s Writing

Now, Courtney was the first doll to be released after the abridging began, meaning her books were released, in their entirety, just as short as the abridged stories. So it basically means she gets four books while the others get six- and unlike the others, Courtney doesn’t even have mysteries or short stories to pad out. (And honestly, looking at her book’s amount of content, I’d even argue that she basically got two while everyone else got six, but I digress.)

The problem with her books isn’t that they have an author writing them poorly (I really feel like her author was doing the best with what limited time she had), but in how cramped American Girl made them. Because, well, Courtney has to deal with a lot in such a short amount of words.

Let’s compare her to Julie, for instance- Julie pretty much has a new 70s thing every book. In order: feminism, rising divorce rates, San Francisco’s Chinese culture, environmentalism, the country’s bicentennial, anti-bullying and deaf acceptance. And adding to this, we also have her own personal journies through her parents’ divorce and move, her basketball team, her friendship with Ivy (and later Joy), overcoming her fear of horses, student council, detention... It’s a lot, and yet her books don’t feel rushed or forced at all. It’s just a year in the life of a girl going through a lot of new and sudden events, and how she grows and changes throughout them. She may not be as deep a character as Addy or Kirsten, but not every girl goes through the trials and tribulations they do, and it’s a good series overall.

Courtney, meanwhile, does feel rushed and forced, because of the short timespan. Instead of fitting everything into a six-book format- or even at two-book format that is the same length and content as the six-book- everything has to be fit into two short books. Everything Courtney has to cover includes the topics of divorce and stepfamilies, feminist and technological advancement, the Challenger explosion, the HIV crisis, Hands Across America, and the founding of Pleasant Company. And in Courtney’s own journey, she has to cover her learning to stand up for herself, her relationship with her stepsister and Tina’s own character development, her mother running for mayor and how that affects her, how much she misses her Dad after he moves, her friendship with Sarah (note on that later), her basically getting hate-crimed after standing up for her friend... that’s a LOT of stuff, and I didn’t even include the non-AG 80s product placement they shove into her collection.

But without the longer format, everything is pushed together to its detriment. Tina’s development and Maureen’s mayoral candidacy are two plotlines that are literally dropped and almost completely ignored in the second book. The Challenger and HIV issues were handled decently, but the Challenger only lasted a few short chapters, and the HIV topic was not as informative as it could be, leaving out several things like Reagan’s refusal to treat it for so long, and its effect on the gay community. Honestly, the HIV scare was more shifted to focus on the mob mentality of a new and scary disease- which, while needed right now, also ignores many of the bigotry-related reasons it became an epidemic. Pleasant Company’s inclusion feels forced in, and I think was the only resolution she had to her Dad plotline?

And don’t get me started on the Sarah plotline- every Girl of the Year since Kanani- sans Isabelle and Luci- has had the story of “oh no I’ve been ignoring my friend and now they’re mad at me :(” and it’s SO old. Seriously, I counted the contemporary dolls that have had that storyline, and it’s thirteen*. Thirteen times we’ve covered this issue- almost all of it in quick succession- and now we have to deal with it in a historical character book while much more important things are going on! Yes, it sucks when a friend ditches you while you’re being attacked and bullied for something you’re standing up for, but once again, with how much is happening in such a short book, it just feels like a forced-in plotline that we’ve seen a billion times, and with their falling-out happening mainly due to the attention Courtney was given Isaac, it serves to make Sarah seem closed-minded at best and bigoted at worst- it’s clarified that she’s not, she’s just scared and upset with Courtney, but when you put those events so close together, it leads the reader to lump them together and get the impression that, you know, Sarah is a worse person than she is.

*Full count: Nicki (book 2), Chrissa (book 2), Kanani (2), McKenna (1 iirc?), Saige (both books), Grace (2), Lea (3), Gabriela (1 and 3), Tenney (2), Z (1), Blaire (1), Joss (1) and Kira (1).

It’s a bit weird, too, that Courtney’s... what’s the word? Vibe? with her how her story is written and marketed Is closer to the Contemporaries than the Historicals. Am I the only one feeling this? My best explanation for it is that the author, Kellen Hertz, had only written contemporary books for American Girl before- the third Lea Clark book and all four Tenney Grant books, both of which contained the Friendship Issues™ plot. I’m not at all saying she’s a bad author- I honestly love the way the Tenney books are written- and I’m not saying she couldn’t write a historical book, but it’s clear American Girl didn’t ask her to change up her style or content from what she’d done for them before, as well as giving her way too much to cover in such short books.

Conclusion

Honestly, this conclusion should be obvious- American Girl needs to expand their books again. Whether they simply allow the books to be unabridged, or go back to the six-book format, Courtney's books are too cramped to tell an effective story, let alone the poor abridged girls.

The other girls were given six-book length, so if they went back to that length or format, Courtney would have to be rewritten, at least a little- and that’s okay! There’s a lot of things that could use expansion or connection, such as her Summer trip with her Dad that was given basically one sentence in the text. Her growth with her stepfamily could be acknowledged- and honestly? I think that if these books were expanded, her mother’s mayoral arc should either continue through the books, or Maureen should become mayor before the book 2 arc. I’ve mentioned this before, but having Maureen as mayor (or even still a candidate) would put a lot of pressure on Courtney to be perfect so that nobody can say “look at how awful this woman is for doing politics instead of raising her family right”- which means that when the Isaac stuff happens, it has even more stakes for Courtney and her family. Does her Mom still support her with her own reputation on the line, and what does that say about Maureen’s character, how does it affect Courtney and the D’Amicos... that’s all fascinating stuff that was completely missed out on.

And if she was turned into a six-book format- honestly, here’s how I’d do it, just off the top of my head. It would involve a bit of event shuffling, but honestly I think it would work!

Meet Courtney - pretty much the setup for everything happening, her starting to get her Crystal Starshooter plans and her mom’s campaign beginning.

Courtney Learns a Lesson - her relationship to Tina, culminating in the Challenger incident.

Courtney’s Surprise - we move the founding of Pleasant Company over here, since Molly’s basically her Christmas Present. We’ll probably need an additional plotline- maybe similar to Julie, she can have a story on spending the holidays in different places.

Happy Birthday Courtney - end of summer, aka meeting Isaac and her trip with her Dad.

Courtney Saves the Day - Beginning of the HIV arc, ending at her presentation to her class.

Changes for Courtney - Continuation of the HIV arc as things get worse for her and Isaac, ending where Friendship Superhero ends.

Is that a perfect sorting? Probably not, I came up with it in ten minutes. But would it give Courtney space to breathe and more time to explore everything happening to her? Probably!

The tl;dr of this is honestly that American Girl are absolute cowards right now, and need to expand their books back. Their abridging is only harming their stories- which, as Courtney herself points out, are the reason girls got into their company in the first place.

#courtney moore #american girl #american girl dolls #american girls #1986 #negativity #mine #americangirlstar

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pjo12fan · 3 years

Text

Headcanon #3

Annabeth discovers she loves baking

The bad news: she’s really bad at it.

But nobody dares tell her.

The thing is everyone’s so used to Annabeth being really good at everything:

She trashes Percy, Leo and Jason at video games.

She’s been giving Piper a run for her money on their karaoke nights, and now there’s debate on who the best singer is.

Hazel’s starting to regret giving Annabeth horseback riding lessons, cause she’s getting scarily good.

And she’s even taught herself Chinese, to the point where she’s speaking it better than Frank.

So, when she starts getting into baking, all her friends are thinking, looks like here’s another thing Annabeth is a badass at. On the plus side, there’ll be free cookies right?

Wrong.

There are free cookies. But as it turns out, Annabeth is really awful at baking.

It started when Percy’s parents were away for the weekend on Sally’s book tour, they let Annabeth stay over so Percy wasn’t alone.

And Annabeth just went into a frenzy. Making batch after batch of burnt cookies, feeding them all to Percy.

Except he didn’t dare tell her how bad they were, he just kept swallowing as many as he could. And she would just keep making more.

The thing is Annabeth was completely oblivious, she just loved watching Percy eat for some reason. And she would smile and ask him, “Do you like it?”

And poor Percy’s just forcing mouthful after mouthful down his throat and nodding enthusiastically. He figured she’d get better over time.

Well, the seven demigods had a reunion at Percy’s place a couple months later.

Annabeth’s decided to bake a cake and some cookies as well. But by that point, each of them had already experienced Annabeth’s baking before, so they knew it wasn’t going to end well

Frank and Hazel are determined to avoid the inevitable, and they actually bring a cake they bought, to the apartment.

But when Annabeth finds out, she just says “I reckon we could finish two cakes, besides mine’s almost done!”

Upon hearing that Leo just closes his eyes and starts to groan, but Piper slaps the back of his head and tells him to not be rude.

She hates it as well though. But she figures somebody’s gonna let it slip sooner or later.

Anyway as the night goes on, Annabeth just brings out trays and trays of cookies.

And Jason can’t help but ask why she made so many. “I swear it’s not humanly possible for someone to eat this many cookies.”

He’s lying though. It is possible. If the cookies were good. It just wasn’t possible for someone to eat that many of Annabeth’s cookies.

She doesn’t know that. She just laughs cause she explains how Percy really loves them and how he can’t stop eating them. She was scared there wouldn’t be enough, so that’s why she made a ton of them just to be safe.

She goes back into the kitchen to get more. Everyone just stops chewing and gives Percy dirty looks. They’ve pretty much had enough at this point. It’s literally been months of burnt, horrible cookies, forced smiles and painful chewing.

And that’s how the evening goes, whenever Annabeth gets up to leave. Everyone is just begging for Percy to end it, once and for all.

Once the coast is clear, Piper and Frank spit out mouthfuls of cookie into the bin. Hazel and Leo just stare at the son of Poseidon and shake their heads.

“How could you man?” Jason’s just pleading with his bro, “Why haven’t you told her? Whyyy?”

And Percy’s basically given up at this point. He just can’t do that to her, he can’t tell her it’s bad.

It’s gone on too long, and they’re all in too deep he explains, they’re just gonna have to wait until Annabeth gets better.

And Piper’s mouth just hangs open. She’s in complete, utter disbelief. “Percy, honey, are you insane?!!?!”

“It’s been months man,” Leo’s chiming in now too. “She’s getting worse!”

“I’m pretty sure the last one I ate had a blonde curl in it.” Frank’s almost in tears and he’s begging on his knees at this point. “Please Percy, you have to tell her.”

“And tell her tonight Percy,” Hazel orders. “After we’re gone.”

“Why me?” Percy complains. “Cant someone else tell her?”

They all facepalm when Percy says he can’t because he’s told her so many times he loves her cookies, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t even hate them anymore at this point

“Why would you do that Percy? why?” Jason picks a couple cookies from the tray, checks to see if Annabeth is in view- she isn’t, and he tosses them in the bin.

Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s time to own up man.”

Percy looks like he wants to cry, he just shakes his head saying he can’t do it.

But by then, Piper just wants all the pain to end, and she’s blatantly pouring charmspeak into her words. Telling Percy, “Gotta tell her Perce, it’s better she finds out from you than someone else. And it’s better you be honest than have us keep lying about it.”

“Lying about what?”

Annabeth’s frowning, staring at each of them. They were clearly talking about her.

Everyone’s gone silent. Nobody dares meet her eyes. Even though she’s wearing an apron with a cartoon on it, and she’s got ridiculous rainbow mittens on, Annabeth is still so very scary when she’s mad.

“Lying about what?” She demands. “What’s wrong?”

Nobody replies. Frank quickly excused himself to the toilet. Jason and Piper suddenly found a real interest in the design of the coffee table. Hazel’s nervously playing with her hair, staring at the wall. Leo starts fidgeting with the springs in his pocket. And Percy’s just staring at the floor, he figured he could probably list hundreds of monsters he’d rather fight right now to avoid being here.

“Hello, anyone?” Annabeth’s practically got steam coming out her ears at this point. “I know you can all hear me!”

Piper looks up, makes eye contact with Percy, who’s silently pleading with her to not do this, but she turns away and looks at Annabeth. “You should ask your boyfriend.”

Annabeth cocks an eyebrow, staring at him expectantly. “Well?”

Percy’s mind has gone blank. He can’t think of anything to say. Other than the truth. Piper’s charmspeak is still echoing in his ears, and it’s taking literally all his strength not to do what she says.

He can’t take it anymore though. He opens his mouth and starts saying, “Well, we all kinda think-”

“We?” Leo’s shaking his head. “Don’t speak for me man.”

Jason feigns annoyance. “Yeah Perce, it’s what you think.”

Percy stares back at them. Are they being for real? But everyones face is just telling him, hey, you got us into this mess, now you gotta fix it.

So what can he do? He clears his throat, he puts on his bravest face. “Annabeth, I have a confessions to make.”

Annabeth has got her hands on her hips. “Mhmmm.”

“I think the-”

Ring!

He’s cut off by the doorbell. Someone’s knocking impatiently. And Percy is the most relieved man in the world at this point.

Frank goes to open it. And it’s Nico.

“Oh hey Nico,” He starts saying. “What’s up? Do you wanna come in?”

Nico pushes past him and walks straight into the living room. Everyone stares at him.

“What’s up man?” Jason asks.

Hazel goes for a hug but he signals for her to stop. Instead he turns to Annabeth.

“You gave me a box of cookies yesterday.” Nico says. “And I tried one.”

“Oh yeah!” Annabeth grins. “Did you like them?”

Nico stares at her, he can’t tell if she’s joking.

“No.” He says.

“Oh,” Annabeth pouts. “I didn’t know that, everyone’s been telling me they’re great.”

Then Nico narrows his eyes, as he looks at all of them - Jason, Piper, Leo, Frank, Hazel, and Percy, all sat on the sofas, collectively holding their breath.

“Cowards.”

He spits out the word, staring down each and every one of them, before disappearing into the shadows.

And that’s how it’s done folks.

This is so long, but I just couldn’t stop writing hahaha, Nico’s a badass though

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vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

I just wanna ask, and don’t get mad at me cause I’m genuinely curious, how do you stan Ron? Like, I like him, but he is definitely misogynistic (slut shaming Ginny, treating hermione like she owes him something and being mad that she kissed someone years before, always objectifying Fleur, and acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much). Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO

how do you stan Ron?

Like this:

OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM DID YOU SEE MY BABY OH MY GOD. WHEN HARRY’S ARM HAD GONE KABLOOIE BECAUSE OF LOCKHART AND HE. RON. HE WAS. HELPING HIM GET DRESSED???? OH MY GOD BABY???? HHHHNNNNGGGG. AND. AND. AND ALSO WHEN HE. OMG. WHEN HE WAS PUTTING FOOD ON HIS FRIENDS’ PLATES LIKE. MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT. AND THE WAY HE’S ALWAYS BLUSHING AND BEING EMBARRASSED AT THE SLIGHTEST PRAISE BUT ALSO HE’S SO DESPERATELY SEEKING IT BUT HE KNOWS HE CAN’T TAKE IT AND EEK EEK EEK THAT’S SO CUTE SOMEONE HOLD ME IT’S ADORABLE RONALD WEASLEY YOU ARE SO GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME IT’S ILLEGAL TO BE THIS CUTE!!!!

Ok and then.

he is definitely misogynistic

No. And here’s why.

slut shaming Ginny

Yes, that was wrong. And guess what, that’s also something he probably - scratch that, definitely - picked up from his mother. And also his brothers, recall how Fred and George too don’t like to see Ginny go around with boys. There’s also something to recall: Ron was there when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and learned later that it was because she had trusted an older guy. You seriously wouldn’t be paranoid about who your sister dates after that? It was wrong. Yeah. And he more than learned his lesson when Ginny clapped back by virgin-shaming him and basically told him that he was childish because he hadn’t have a relationship yet. So would that make Ginny sexist too? Or is it just for Ron?

treating hermione like she owes him something

..................... uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... when? When the fuck did anything like that happen?

He made a prat of himself at the Yule Ball, that much is obvious. But he didn’t tell her anything like “you should be with me” or didn’t insinuate anything of the sort. He was a jealous bitch but kept attacking Krum, not Hermione.

If you mean in sixth year when he treated her with “icy, sneering indifference” for the course of two weeks, yeah that was bad but that’s not “treating her like she owes him something”, the fuck?

being mad that she kissed someone years before

Yeah. I know. And that was bad, ooooh you got me to admit Ron did bad stuff, that’s what you want to see, right? And I reckon he was also mad that she hid it from him, and that he had to learn it from his sister of all people. We see Ron handles what he considers betrayals terribly. I have some meta discussing the possibility that he has a form of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.

always objectifying Fleur

Um... no, he doesn’t. He makes a stupid comment about her once in GOF then stops. Let’s also fucking remember that Fleur is a Veela, she literally makes guys stare at her as part of her powers!! I’m not blaming her because she’s literally born that way, but you can’t blame someone who is under magical compulsion either.

acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much

So tell me why he was friends with Hermione then?

Because Hermione wasn’t Emma Watson the super hawt sexy model goddess. Hermione was Mrs Generic. Until this once at the Yule Ball when she got the pretty princess perfect Mary Sue makeover but then stopped because she had to remain ~relatable uwu~.

Again. Ron made stupid sexist comments. But it’s actively shown that he doesn’t follow up on them. If he did indeed live by the motto “girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much”, explain to me why he wasn’t simping and drooling all over Padma Patil who is explicitly stated to be one of the prettiest girls at school when she was his date? Why exactly did he ignore her and was a miserable twat the whole evening instead of basking in the joy of having snagging a girl that was “worth it”? Well surprise, it’s because HE ACTUALLY ISN’T LIKE THAT AND WHAT HE SAYS IS MAYBE SHIT HIS “COOL OLDER BROTHERS” SAY AND HE THINKS THAT BY EXTENSION IT WOULD MAKE HIM COOL TO REPEAT IT. MIMETISM, THAT'S BASIC FUCKING HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY FOR FUCKING TODDLERS MY FUCKING GOD.

Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it,

............

...................................

...............................................................

so. so why. so why wouldn’t you. use that. as a reason. to stan him.

like.

fuck all the “hurr durr ron weasley the boy who made it out of the friendzone!!!!” bullshit, let’s start going with “Ron Weasley, the Boy who became a Man, and not one of those 'uugghh im such an alpha male’ ones but one that’s got the balls to say ‘hey love, I’ve got an idea, what if you kept doing that job you love and feel passionate about while I support you and do the majority of the childcare while also working a smaller job on the side so we’re never short on money’“

Why you people gotta be “yeah I like Ron BUTT” when you know full-well this fucking awful fandom will rake him over hot coals over the slightest mistake he does - worse, will actively go out of their way to interpret his positive moments in the most negative way possible??? Fuck off with that bullshit. Ron dared to say bad stuff omygah big deal, he was forgiven for it all and you’re just all cowards looking to feel “pure” by telling yourself “oh yeah but he was problematic once uwu”. FUCK. THAT. NOISE.

but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO

And IMO he’s not, funny how that works

So.

I guess it’s impossible to stan Ron because he was problematic uwu.

Ok.

Then I hereby decree that it’s impossible to stan Hermione Granger because:

“I’ll bet you wish you hadn’t given up Divination now, don’t you, Hermione?” asked Parvati, smirking. [...] “Not really,” said Hermione indifferently, who was reading the Daily Prophet. “I’ve never really liked horses.” She turned a page of the newspaper, scanning its columns. “He’s not a horse, he’s a centaur!” said Lavender, sounding shocked. “A gorgeous centaur . . .” sighed Parvati. “Either way, he’s still got four legs,” said Hermione coolly. “Any-way, I thought you two were all upset that Trelawney had gone?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 27

wow casual use of a racial slur yay!!! A+

And it’s also forbidden to stan Harry Potter either since:

It was raining hard now, and she was nowhere to be seen. He simply did not understand what had happened; half an hour ago they had been getting along fine. “Women!” he muttered angrily, sloshing down the rain-washed street with his hands in his pockets. “What did she want to talk about Cedric for anyway? Why does she always want to drag up a subject that makes her act like a human hosepipe?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 25

and

“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!” “What’s happened to you?” asked Harry, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare. “Oh, I’ve just escaped — I mean, I’ve just left Cormac,” she said. “Under the mistletoe,” she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her. “Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely. “I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —” “You considered Smith?” said Harry, revoked. - Half-Blood Prince

Victim-blaming! Nice Harry, nice. Always classy.

Ok, Ginny stanning is already cancelled because she virgin-shamed Ron, right, so who’s left, who’s left... ah yeah:

“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” - Half-Blood Prince

Selling date rape drugs proudly ouh là là. Bye Fred.

"Do they work?” she asked. “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question...” “...and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not selling them to our sister,” he added, becoming suddenly stern, “not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve...” “Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.

Assuming that only girls use love potions, and only on boys. Men never rape in JKR’s world, only women do, you heard it from George Weasley here folks, I’m just passing on the message. Ah and I hope you’re also starting the Fred And George Hate Club given how he’s also slut-shaming Ginny.

“What’s this?” “Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher,” said Fred. “Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?” “Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?” She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks. “Pygmy Puffs,” said George. “Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?” “I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. “They’re really cute!” “They’re fairly cuddly, yes,” conceded Fred. “But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?” Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil. “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”

Ah, good on you for defending yourself, Ginny, but remember, Ginny stanning is prohibited because she’s been problematic in the past and is gonna be problematic in the future and that’s baaaaaaad. Careful kids, don’t get ideas. It’s problematic to like people who’ve done problematic things.

So I guess nobody can like anything or anyone now. Sorry guys. Liking things is evil, what if the thing you liked had, OR USED TO HAVE, *gasp* flaws, can’t take that risk, ohmygah.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #hp fandumb #hp fandom #harry potter #harry potter series #fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george #ginny weasley #hermione granger #problematic content

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 2/?

Chapter 1

Her first visitor was - quite unsurprisingly - Moblit.

He brought food, a change of clothes and even books to her. All of them - Hange couldn't help but note - were picked up to suite her interests.

Then he sat down next to her and proceeded to clean the small cut on her cheek, the one she received during the raid on Liberio, when one of the bullets flew almost too close for her to dodge.

"It's just a scratch," she whispered, still unable to meet his gaze. She did not deserve his kindness. She never did.

"It still might get infected," Moblit murmured, applying a soothing balm on the wound. Gentle, he was always so gentle with her. So patient too. Hange’s eyes started to sting.

"And why do you care?" she asked, staring at the wall in front of her. "Don't you..." she closed her eyes, wincing. Why did she care? He was an enemy, the devil of Paradise, and yet— yet her heart still squeezed painfully and her stomach was in knots. "Don't you hate me?"

Moblit sighed, putting away the med kit. He rose up from his kneeling position and joined her on a small prison bed.

"I tried," he confessed softly. "I tried hating you, so hard and for so long but I just… couldn't. You know when Captain Levi broke the news of your betrayal..." he chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair. "I started crying. I thought how could you do that, after those years we've spent fighting side by side, how could lie to us like this? But then..."

"Then?" Hange echoed, her voice wavering.

"Then I remembered our first expedition," Moblit smiled. "The one where I almost got eaten. You saved me back there. Nearly got your hand bitten off but you saved me, and that made me realize, you didn't lie, not always anyways. You're an extraordinary person, Hange-san, but I don't think even you can pretend like this all the time. All these nights I carried you to your room after you fell asleep in your office and you murmured 'thanks' against my shirt, all these evenings we and the guys from our squad got drunk at the bars, all these times you made sure to check on me, when I got myself into infirmary, finding the time to do so, despite your crazy schedule... I know all of this wasn't a lie, it couldn’t be.”

He paused for a moment, staring at her with the same devotion he always did, the one that always made Hange’s throat go dry, because she had never deserved it. She – a traitor and a liar – never deserved Moblit’s kindness and affection. But even now, he didn’t seem to understand it.

“I can't hate you, Hange-san,” he murmured softly, “because I know that this betrayal hurt you as much as it did all of us."

He touched her hand, briefly squeezing it, and when Hange looked up, surprised that her vision is clouded, Moblit wiped off her unshed tears and gave her another kind smile.

"I'll come back in the evening. Please tell me if you need anything else. I can go to your room..."

"My room?" Hange startled. "You haven't cleared it out yet?"

Haven't they destroyed everything there - burned all of her papers and smashed all of her samples? Why not?

"Captain Levi forbade us from doing so," Moblit replied, and that seemingly simple revelation had Hange’s heart beating madly. Her shocked expression didn’t go unnoticed by Moblit. He chuckled heartily, muttering something to himself.

"Good day, Hange-san," he said at last, leaving her to deal with the bewildering news on her own.

***

Armin came to her next.

For the longest time, he just sat there, fiddling with something small, enclosed in his hands and out of her sight.

Hange ignored him, pretending to read one of Moblit's books and watching him from the corner of her eyes, waiting for Armin to speak up.

Was it his method of manipulation? If so, it wasn't working.

But as the silence stretched on, becoming tenser with each second, Hange struggled not to squirm in her seat. What was the meaning of this? What was he waiting for? And then, when she was ready to speak up and ask what the fuck he wanted with her, Armin finally looked up.

He rose to his feet and hid the mysterious object inside his jacket before Hange could see what it was.

"I'll have tea brought for us,” he announced. “Just wait for a minute."

"It's not like I can go anywhere," Hange muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Just a minute,” Armin repeated with a nervous laugh, and then hurriedly left.

Once the tea was brought, Armin let himself inside the cell.

"There you go," he murmured, handing Hange a white porcelain cup. It was one of the best that the scouts had, Hange knew that this tea set was only used for that rare instances, where they had to hold meetings with the highest members of the brass. And Armin decided to use this set to have a tea party with her? The hospitality was making her uncomfortable. Was that Armin’s intention too?

She accepted the cup, looking at the boy over its rim. "How are Gabi and Falco?"

"Don't worry," Armin smiled. "No harm will come their way. Their cell is not... as luxurious as yours is,” he gestured to the bed, desk and even small bookshelf that stood inside. “But they're in good hands, you can trust me on that."

"Thank you," Hange nodded and drank from the cup. Her eyes opened wide as she tasted the familiar sweet flavor. How did he—

"You should try biscuits too," Armin the pushed the plate closer to her. Hange glanced at them. Just as the tea, those biscuits were her favorite.

"We used to do it a lot, remember?" Armin said, easily deciphering the reason for her surprise. "With Mikasa, Eren and the rest of your squad..."

"I remember," Hange quietly answered. She took another sip, her throat suddenly going too dry.

Was this all a part of his plan? To make her feel as the most disgusting piece of shit in the world? Armin shouldn’t have bothered. She was quite good at it herself.

"Good times, eh?" Armin chuckled, putting a hand under his chin. “Those evening at the barracks… You told us so many things, had us hanging onto your every word. You had enough passion in you to carry on for the whole night, but Captain Levi never let us stay for too long…”

“Is that the reason for your visit?” Hange snapped, interrupting him. Every word from his mouth was making her more and more angry. She didn't need some barely adult to lecture her, trying to make her feel bad. What did he want to achieve with that? Make her realize how awful she is? She knew that already. “Did you come here to reminisce about the good old days? Don’t you have anything better to do, Armin?”

"Sorry," weird, but Armin looked genuinely apologetic. Was he always that good of an actor? Or did he learn the skill of deceit after she left? "It wasn't my intent to stir... some unwanted memories. I didn't come here for this. I actually... wanted to ask a question."

"Ask away," Hange allowed, crossing arms on her chest.

"I've been thinking about this a lot," Armin began, playing with a cup's handle. Looking like that – with his head bowed and his eyes cast down, he reminded Hange of the boy she knew four years ago. She almost believed in his sincerity. “Reiner and Berthold, Annie... they wanted to kill Eren. At the very least, take him away. Why haven't you attempted something like this? You had more than enough opportunities. Why didn't you use them?"

Why didn't she indeed. Deep down, Hange knew an answer to this question. But since she wasn't only a piece of shit, but a coward as well, she wasn’t ready to admit it, even to herself. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to Armin too.

She had an answer for him, though. A reason she fabricated to placate her superiors and give herself at least some peace of mind.

"I've never seen an Attack Titan. Kruger died before I became a part of Titan Research Society. And..." she shrugged, and put on a bright smile, her only mask and best defense. "I wanted to study him so much that I was willing to ignore my duty."

"And thunder spears?" Armin asked. "Without them, we would have lost at Shiganshina. Why did you create them?"

"Same reason," she took a biscuit in her hands, biting into it. Her lie was so good, she herself started believing in it. "I was too fascinated by your technology. Couldn't pass the opportunity to find out what your natural resources are capable of."

"Ever the scientist?" something very close to admiration shone in Armin's big blue eyes. Hange quickly looked away, not giving her guilt an opportunity to resurface. She’d have time for that later, when left alone. “Thank you for your answer, Hange-san.”

“Is that all you’ve wanted to ask?”

“No,” Armin shook his head. He shifted his eyes back down, staring into his cup. He slowly span the spoon, lost in thought.

“I know it’s unwise,” he stated, tone uncharacteristically firm for a boy Hange once knew. “And I know that others may not… agree with me on this, but I wasn’t supposed to be in this position. Commander Erwin left it to you, you’re his true successor and I…”

Couldn’t be, Hange thought. Was it another one of his games?

“Are you asking for an advice, Armin?”

“I…” he chuckled, nervously ruffling his hair. “I guess I am. It’s just— everyone looks up to me now, thinking I’ve got all the right answers, but I don’t even know what the question is supposed to be. I’m trying to deal with the mess that the attack on Liberio caused, and now everyone is coming after me for putting Eren in jail, and—” Armin rubbed his face, his shoulders sagging. Hange started to feel sorry for the boy, she could only imagine how hard it was to call shots during times like this. “After you… left, I thought I’ve learnt my lesson. I thought I knew that you can’t trust everyone. But Eren isn’t just someone, he’s my best friend.”

I was someone’s best friend too once, Hange almost said. She was someone’s best friend too, and then she betrayed him.

Would he ever be able to forgive me, she wondered.

No, Hange shut that train of thoughts immediately. He wouldn’t. He was too smart to be that kind.

“He’s a family,” Armin solemnly continued, breaking her out of the reverie. “But after what he’s done in Liberio… I can’t even look him in the eyes.”

“He changed,” Hange said, as softly as she could. She contemplated covering Armin’s hand with hers, but she doubted he’d allow it. “People do that sometimes.”

“Yes,” Armin nodded. “I’m… learning to accept that.”

“I know you still care about him. You always will.”

She will always care about him too. God, she was pathetic. A spy and a traitor and she couldn’t do even that properly, forgetting the most important rule of ‘do not get attached’.

“But you can’t trust Eren anymore,” Hange told him.

Talking about trust? Well, wasn’t she a hypocrite. Another one of her many, many flaws.

“I know,” he sadly agreed. “But Eren is not the only one, who worries me. There is also a matter of Zeke Yeager…” Armin reminded.

She smashed the biscuit in her fist. Zeke, the bastard had played them all. And to think she used to admire him… More than just admire him.

“Don’t let Eren and Zeke converse,” she warned grimly. “Under any circumstances. Knowing what Zeke is capable of, and witnessing what Eren is capable of, it would be best if you separate them.”

“Separate them…” Armin mumbled, biting his thumb.

“Get Zeke out of the inner city,” Hange advised. “As far as you can. Perhaps…” she scratched her chin, thinking. “Perhaps, have him hidden in the Forest of Giant Trees.”

“Huh… that’s a very sound idea,” Armin slowly nodded, some tension leaving his body. That bright light returned to his eyes, and Hange relaxed at the sight of it. Seeing some of his worries disappear made her feel just a tiniest bit better about herself. “I can appoint Captain Levi as Zeke’s guardian, he won’t be able to make a single move then.”

“You do that.”

Just at the mention of him, all of her good mood had disappeared. It was a good thing that Armin decided to get him out of the city too. Perhaps, her heart wouldn’t get completely shattered then.

“Thank you so much,” Armin finally smiled, looking up at Hange.

With his puffy cheeks and big, bright eyes, he looked young, she couldn’t help but note. He was still just a boy. And already he had a burden on his shoulders Hange wasn’t sure she herself would be able to carry.

“I know it may not mean much to you, but you’re doing good, Armin. He—” Hange paused, clearing her throat. She still couldn’t say hisname. Commander Erwin Smith was an enemy, a biggest threat to their mission. But at the same time… he was a man she followed for five years of her life. He was a man she admired like no other. Erwin Smith was a friend.

And she missed him terribly.

“He would have been proud of you,” she finished hoarsely.

“Hange-san,” Armin rose, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know Commander Erwin as much as you did, but I think… I think he would have forgiven you. If that’s any consolation, I already did.”

Fuck. Hange turned her face away, hiding her eyes. Starting with memories of their time years ago, bringing up Erwin, forgiving her… Was Armin so determined to make her cry?

“Thank you for your time,” Armin said at last, leaving the cell.

As soon as the door closed after him, she left the tears flow.

***

Then came Sasha. Naturally, with Connie in tow.

With wide eyes Hange stared at the variety of meals the pair brought inside her cell.

"Um..." she gawked at it, feeling utterly lost. "What is this?"

"It's food!" Sasha beamed.

"Yeah, I can see that but... What's the occasion?"

"I just thought they don't feed you in here," Sasha answered, skeptically looking Hange over. "It doesn't look like they do. You seem thinner than before."

The sight of Sasha with hands on her hips and her lips pressed together in displeasure made Hange feel inexplicably warm. She desperately tried to fight off a smile, but in Sasha's presence it proved to be an almost impossible feat.

Ah, well, she was always her favorite...

"Moblit takes care of my meals actually."

He came to her every morning and evening, bringing warm food and engaging conversations. His quiet, soft voice was the only respite from the demons in her head.

"Pfft," Sasha rolled her eyes. "And you're calling that food? This is food!" she gestured at the plates they’ve carried inside. "Just try it, Hange-san, it's delicious!"

"It's from Niccolo!" Connie said, grinning just as brightly. "He's a real master."

"And our friend!" Sasha added.

“Something more than a friend for Sasha," Connie corrected.

Red hue instantly appeared on Sasha's cheeks, and Hange couldn't resist anymore - she snickered in her palm.

"Let's eat before it gets cold," Sasha muttered, avoiding everyone's eyes.

As she busied herself with serving the table, Hange exchanged a look with Connie. The boy winked. Hange hid a smile.

As they ate, Sasha and Connie entertained Hange with stories of their everyday life. They told her about the time they pulled a prank on Jean and almost made him believe he grew ten inches taller overnight and spoke of an arm wrestling match between Mikasa and Levi that Levi, to his immense shame, had lost.

They talked so animatedly, described everything with such vivid details that Hange felt like she actually had been present when all of it had happened.

Truthfully, she desperately wanted to.

"Thanks for the meal, guys," breathing heavily, Hange sat back in a chair. She turned her face away, unable to even stare at the food. Sasha was right, the food Moblit brought her - as good as it was - didn't compare to Niccolo's. As a result, she was completely stuffed. "It was delicious."

"And talking with you had been fun," Connie said.

"It's good to see you again," Sasha admitted with a kind smile that warmed Hange’s heart.

Sasha and Connie managed to make feel better than she had been in days since Liberio. Truth be told, they made her feel better than she had been since leaving the island all these years ago.

The kids rose from their seats, moving in perfect sync.

Just like twins, Hange thought with another smile.

They moved around the table, picking up the plates.

"You go, Sasha," Connie spoke as soon as they finished. "I'll catch up with you."

"Eh?" Sasha frowned. "What do you—"

"Go," he gave her a push, still refusing to meet her gaze. "I need a moment with Hange-san."

"And why must you throw me away..." Sasha complained , shaking her head. She gave Connie another look, filled with suspicion, huffed in annoyance and then walked out of the dungeons, leaving them alone.

Connie waited until the sound of a large metal door closing was heard and then looked up at Hange.

"Hange-san," the boy seemed a bit nervous. Hange wondered about the reason for a sudden change in his demeanor. She wanted to ask, but Connie suddenly appeared beside her. Without giving her time to react, he wrapped his arms around her. Hange stood still, not knowing how to react. "Thank you for saving Sasha,” he whispered. “I don't know what I would have done without her."

Oh god, again? Were those kids going to make her cry again? She had to resist it. She was a Marleyan soldier, one of the strongest and toughest they had. She could do it.

But then Connie had the gall to press his forehead to her shoulder, sniffling quietly, and Hange felt her resolve shutter.

She quickly wiped at her eyes. "I'm glad I managed to get there in time,” she said, more honest that she had been in a long time. “This world would have lost a lot of light if Sasha was gone."

"My world would be completely dark," Connie agreed, letting go of her. He took a step back, looking at Hange with a wistful smile that reminded her that he wasn’t the same naive boy anymore. None of them were. "Thank you again. I meant it when I say it’s good to have you back. We’ve all missed you terribly, Hange-san.”

Thankfully, he left before her face became covered in tears once again.

***

Jean came to her too. Many times, actually. He paced around the cell, he touched the bars, pulled on them.

But he never entered.

He tried to be sneaky about it too, coming down to the dungeons well after midnight. But his steps were too heavy, and Hange was a spy, and before that – a soldier. She was trained to be a light sleeper practically since birth.

However, she said nothing. Giving him the time he needed was the least she could do. Besides, she knew Jean. The boy was not a coward, she knew he’d certainly come around.

And on the fourth day since the Raid on Liberio, he finally did.

He marched inside her cell, looking like a man going to war.

"Why did you do it?" he slammed his hands on the table, right under Hange's nose.

She slowly looked up from a book she was reading. "You have to be more specific, Jean. I did a lot of things."

"Sasha!" he said with barely conceived rage. "Why did you save her?"

Hange put the book down and crossed her legs at the ankles. She looked at Jean carefully, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't want me to?"

"That's not it!" Jean growled. He shook his head and then continued in a much calmer voice. "You know that's not what I meant.”

Plopping down on a chair next to Hange, he hid his face in his hands and took a deep breath. "I just don't understand it..." he muttered. "We probably wouldn't have hurt those kids even if they did harm Sasha. So why did you do it? Why did you save her?"

Hange sighed. The answer was fairly simple. But everything it entailed – not so much.

"I didn't want her to die."

Jeans studied her pensively. "Isn't that what every Marleyan wishes for? To kill as much Eldians as they can? They sent you here with the same reason, no?"

Hange gave him a sharp look. "No. My mission was to survey and investigate. I wasn't ordered to harm or kill you."

Truth was - she probably wouldn't be able to, even if ordered.

Getting too soft, Zoe, a voice that resembled Zeke's sneered in her head. Hange ignored it, swatting it away like an irritating fly.

"God, you really are making this so hard for me," Jean mumbled, shaking his head.

"What exactly?"

"Hating you," Jean replied. "I spent four years hating you. You and Berthold and Annie and Reiner... I despised them for betraying us, for lying and pretending, but you... Your betrayal shook me to the core. I thought I was ready for it, you know?" he looked at her, staring right into her eyes and showing her all of his raw emotions. Hange hated herself just a little more for causing him so much distress. "I thought that after Reiner and Berthold, nothing can hurt me. But I trusted you so much. I respected and admired you. Between unwavering Commander Erwin and aloof Captain Levi, I thought you're the only one who gives a damn about us."

Hange stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Tell him that he wasn't wrong? That, despite everything - her orders, her beliefs and upbringing - she still cared? A lot of good her care did.

“I looked up to you, you know?" Jean continued, gazing up at the ceiling with a bitter smile. "Thought you're a real badass. Well, you still are, for what it's worth. Managed to fool us all, I couldn't believe it, when Captain told us that you left. No one could. Commander Erwin even wanted to call off the expedition to Shiganshina."

Erwin wanted to call off the expedition? The stoic, cold-blooded Erwin? She had trouble believing it was true.

And her heart was having trouble shouldering all that pain. She really was a piece of shit, wasn’t she? She played with their feelings, betrayed those, who actually cared about her, and for what? For a nation whose only motivation was greed, for a war that was justified solely by prejudices?

“He didn’t name another successor, by the way,” Jean revealed. “Technically, we still don’t have a Commander. I guess no one could fill those shoes, except you.”

“Please,” Hange scoffed. “I would have done a terrible job.”

“You’re selling yourself too short,” Jean protested, shaking his head. “Commander Erwin himself believed in you. That's gotta count for something."

"Erwin didn't know me."

It was Jean's turn to scoff. "Are we talking about the same Erwin Smith? The myth, the legend?" he rolled his eyes. "He may not know everything, but he knew you. Enough to entrust his legacy to you. You're not as bad as I was making you out to be, Hange-san. Actually," Jean tilted his head, his eyes softening. "You're not as bad as you think you are."

Hange turned her face away, hiding from his intent gaze. Jean’s words stroke a chord she didn’t she think she still possessed. So pathetic. After all these years, and she still yearned for acceptance.

"You never did any harm to us,” Jean went on. “Never hurt us, at least not physically. You helped us a lot actually. Your research and inventions… Have you realized what you were doing? I think some part of you certainly has."

"Besides, after all that shit that's been going on, we can't exactly be called good guys either,” he sighed, pushing the hair back from his face. “Maybe, you and I have more in common that I'd like to think.”

Again, Hange was at a loss for words. Should she thank him for making her feel better? No, she was already pitiful enough.

"Just something to think about," Jean finished, getting to his feet.

He fixed his uniform, brushing the invisible dust from his shoulders. Hange stole a glance at him, marveling at how much he had changed. If she had been his commander, she’d be so proud of him. He had grown into a smart, kind man. Perhaps, a little too kind, she thought, recalling their conversation.

"I've never thought I'd say this," just before leaving, Jean turned to Hange, his hand gripping the bar of her cell. "But I'm glad our paths have crossed again. It looks like there are still lots of things I can learn from you."

***

At last, Levi came.

Hange didn't hear him enter the dungeons. She was in the middle of reading a book when she got a strange, prickling feeling. She looked up, almost jumping as she instantly met Levi's grey eyes. They seemed especially cold this time. Have they always been like this? She was sure they weren’t. At least, not when they were directed at her.

As their gazes connected, he said nothing. He continued to watch her, and the weight of his gaze was so heavy, she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Erwin is dead," he finally said. Impossible, but his eyes became even colder. "Killed at Shiganshina. Did you know that?"

"I read the report."

She wasn't present at the battle, Zeke had advised against that.

"It's too dangerous for you, Professor," he had said. "Attack Titan, Ackermans and those scouts, it would be best if you sit this one out. It'd be a shame if we lost a mind as brilliant as yours. Besides," his lips curled into smirk then, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes. To this day, Hange wasn't sure if he had been joking or not. "You lived with them for so long, your feelings are compromised. I'm sure you're filled with desire to kill them all."

Funny thing, Hange thought back then. Because if she had been thrusted into that battle - she wasn't sure she'd be able to fight for the side she was supposed to.

"In a report?" Levi sneered. "Your buddy Zeke must have bragged to hell and back about it."

Levi's words, even filled with so much distain and mockery, weren't that far from the truth. The voyage back to Marley had not been a happy affair. They almost lost Zeke, they almost lost Reiner, they've lost Berthold. Sweet, timid Berthold, Hange liked him so much. After Pieck's titan, his colossal was the most intriguing test subject. Soft and caring Bertold died, and she could only imagine how hard it was for Reiner. The poor boy didn’t speak throughout the whole journey back home.

“After being away for so long, you’d think he’d be happy that the mission is finally over,” Pieck noted, whispering her observations in Hange’s ear. “But then again,” she turned to her, her sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You don’t look so excited either.”

Hange paid her no mind then, even if Pieck had suspected something, what of it? She was going home, and those Eldians – those people she lived with for five years – didn’t matter anymore. But Reiner did, and Hange watched him, intently, wondering what she could do to make him feel better. She wanted to comfort him, she even approached him and words "I know how it feels" almost slipped down her tongue. But she stopped herself at the very last moment. I know how it feels. Did she really?

She lost people before - a tall blonde man with a goofy smile who gave the best hugs, a blond woman with the most infectious laughter, the adorable petite girl who always looked at her with stars in her eyes, a cheerful young man in glasses who copied most of her gimmicks, the serious brunette who followed her every command - with every loss a part of her soul died, but could she really call them friends? They did not know her, and if they did, they would have never accepted her.

He wouldn’t have accepted you too, a malicious voice whispered in her ear.

The proof of that statement was staring her down at the very same moment.

Unable to escape Levi’s seething gaze, Hange remembered what Zeke had told her then, when she regrouped with them at Shiganshina.

“You did not mention those scouts are that crazy. To sacrifice so many people just for a chance of victory?” Zeke had scoffed, cleaning his glasses. “I just can’t understand it.”

You never will, Hange thought back then. Those brave, young soldiers. Her heart bled for them.

“And that Ackerman,” he continued. “To think they call me a beast titan. I thought I was done for. All that rage and blind hatred and all of it because of some Commander.”

“Erwin Smith.”

“What?”

“His name was Erwin Smith,” Hange repeated, her voice brimming with emotion. She blinked away tears. She would not cry, not right now. Not when Zeke was looking at her so closely. “And he wasn’t just some Commander.”

She left Zeke’s side quickly afterwards, afraid that she’d be unable to hold back her own rage. Some Commander? Erwin was much more than that. Even as Marleyan, she was able to understand that.

“Did you know about Mike too?” Levi asked, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. “And about Nanaba?”

She did, of course, she did. Zeke had sent her the letter, retelling everything he did to Mike in horrid, morbid details. Reading that letter, Hange struggled not to throw up. She could almost hear his screams, could almost see the horror in his eyes.

To not be simply eaten by a titan, but getting torn apart by them? Hange couldn’t imagine a fate more horrible.

The terror of it all didn’t leave her for the longest time. It was only in his arms – in Levi’s strong, gentle arms – that she managed to find some respite. She hated herself for it, but when he wiped her tears with his lips, whispering soft, soothing words in her ear, she could almost pretend to forget.

“And about Ragako?”

Amidst her inner turmoil, Hange missed the moment when Levi entered the cell. Now he was standing right beside her, looming over with dark, angry expression.

“Did you know about those people? About what was going to happen to them?” Levi wasn’t an expressive man, but his eyes showed it all. In a life where she pretended to be a mad scientist and a survey corps’ squad leader, she prided herself at being one of the few, who could read those eyes. But she could see nothing inside them right now. Levi’s face was completely blank, his emotions closed off. “Did you know what was going to happen to Connie’s mother?”

That was it, the final nail in her coffin.

And to think that just the other day, the boy was thanking her. Her, who condemned his mother, who destroyed his home.

Hange closed her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. She gripped the chair under her tightly, quelling the trembling. She would not break, not in front of him.

“What do you want, Levi?” she glanced at him beneath her hair. “What do you wish to hear? That I reveled in every death? That I sneaked out to the island to dance at Erwin’s grave?”

Levi pressed his lips in a line, a deep scowl forming on his forehead.

It was the same expression he had when looking at Zeke, Hange realized.

She thought her heart couldn’t break anymore. Apparently, he was wrong.

“I’m just wondering,” he said. “If there was ever anything sincere in you. Have you even felt something? After all these deaths, do you at least feel guilty?”

“If that’s what you think of me?” she looked him in the eyes, surprised to see something coming alive inside them. “If I’m a monster you think I am, what was the point of bringing me here? Why haven’t you just killed me? Surely that would have given you some peace of mind.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi surged forward, grabbing her by the collar. His grey eyes bore in hers with intensity that she had rarely seen. Inside them was an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. “Shut your stupid mouth, four-eyes. Do you really not get it? After everything you put me through, after all these fucking lies, I’d still rather die than harm you.”

He pushed her away, turning on his heels and storming out of the cell. To the sound of his quick, heavy steps, Hange slowly slid to the ground. Her knees gave under her, as she realized – it was not anger that she had seen in Levi’s eyes.

It was pain.

“Fuck,” she murmured, hiding her face in her hands.

#devils of paradise harass the poor marleyan and make her feel things #that's it that's the chapter #levihan

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missdawnandherdusk · 3 years

Text

Little Things

Draco X Reader

Request: @deanwswinchester79 But I thought of an idea that maybe the readers parents never write to her while she’s at Hogwarts, Draco notices and eventually gets her a simple gift so she doesn’t feel so lonely. She doesn’t react quite so well but over time it started to become a little tradition of theirs because they’ve come to like each other.

A/n: Thank you for such a wonderful request!! Sorry this took so long, I had most of it written with no idea how to end it, but I figured that out! think I’m gonna make the reader a Slytherin just for the proximity and convenience. Let me know what y’all think as always~ (Also it seems that my posts haven’t been circulating in the explore page... so more than ever, please if y’all love my work reblog it. Tumblr sucks and I’d hate to have to leave...)

Being pure bloods and Slytherin, it’s not uncommon that you and Draco are near each other a lot, even before Hogwarts.

Unlike his own parents who would give him anything at the mere mention, your parents never batted an eyelash at you

They spent their wealth on themselves and expected you to sit still and look pretty. The perfect compliant child.

Sure you had everything you needed, and asked for... but you had to bluntly ask for it... there was never anything thoughtful or decent

So, you never get letters from your parents while you’re at Hogwarts

Or gifts, or packages... you write letters and send them off, but never get a response. You don’t even know if your parents get them.

So... maybe it’s a few years before Draco notices and cares.

It’s only because he happened to be sitting next to you one morning as mail came in, a flurry of owls, letters and parcels. And you don’t even bother to look up. Your eyes are trained on your breakfast, your face stoic

“Here,” Draco shoves a covered tin of treacle tarts your way. “My parents sent me these. I don’t even like them,” he scoffs, trying to play off what he’s doing.

You eye him, in disbelief and stand abruptly. “Be grateful they send you things,” you snarl and storm out of the Hall, spending the rest of the day in your room, writing a letter you never send.

Maybe after writing the letter you never send about how you feel makes you realize you were a bit rude to Draco

So you apologize when you see him next.

It’s later that night when you two are the only third years left in the Common Room. Maybe you were a bit of a coward and waited until he was alone

He reaches into his bag and offers you the same tin. “I meant it. I really don’t like sweets,”

You can’t help but laugh as you accept his small gift.

Sitting beside him on the couch, you stare at the tin in your hands.

“You can eat them,” he teased. “They’re not poisoned.” He says it so earnestly, you laugh again.

You mumble another thanks before you stand abruptly and head back to your room, leaving Draco a bit confused. He shrugs and goes back to his potions homework.

“Mother, Draco gave me some treacle tarts today. They’re from his parents. I think he noticed that you never write back. Of course it’s been three years. But at least someone noticed. If that’s what this was...”

It’s a few days later during breakfast that you get a letter. You’re shocked because it’s the first time it’s ever happened and your owl is fluttering happily on your shoulder.

It’s not signed, and you have no idea who it’s from, but it holds kind words and encouragement. It’s such delicate and immaculate script, you’ve got no idea where to start looking for the author.

So maybe you don’t. But you keep the letter and write a response. Again, it’s never sent, but it makes you smile and not feel depressed afterwards. Which is new.

Draco would never forget the innocent smile on your face as you opened the letter he had sent anonymously. You didn’t seem to notice his stare, so entraputed in the bit of parchment.

He sent you a letter maybe a few times a months. It was the most mundane things. How he liked the weather. His worries for the next exam. How you handled yourself well in Transfiguration.

He never knew you reponded to each one. And kept those letters in a fabric box under your bed. Or how every night when you were feeling depressed you’d take them out and read them. And that they made you feel better.

You knew your secret author went to school with you, and was in close proximity but that was about all you knew. Sometimes you wondered who it was writing to you. Sometimes you were just content with having a letter to hold.

“I don’t really know who you are, but I’d like to know I think. At least to thank you for making me happy, even for a short while with your letters,”

You leave that letter on your desk, not thinking to tuck it back into its box. Which is your first mistake

Your owl, seeing the letter on your desk, delivers it, knowing who your secret author is.

Draco grips the letter so tightly that the paper almost tears. Your owl preens herself on his sill. “You know,” he accuses. “Did you tell her?” Like he expects a response from the bird.

It’s Christmas, and your mystery writer sends you a parcel this time with a note: “haven’t you figured it out?” In the parcel is a tin of treacle tarts.

You freeze before your gaze turns to Draco, who’s watching you intently.

You run through a lot of emotions. Anger, confusion, gratitude, hesitation, joy... it’s all so overwhelming that tears sting your eyes and you practically run from the Great Hall, leaning against a random hallway wall and start to cry at the absolute ridiculousness of it all

Draco Malfoy was sending you letters

Really sweet letters that were thoughtful and kind and honest and nothing like you’d ever seen from him before

The there was the tin of sweets sitting in your lap. Looking at them made you cry all over again

Draco, on the other hand is very confused and rushes after you against his better judgment.

“Look I’m sorry if—” he starts but you cut him off by laughing.

“Merlin, don’t apologize,” you sniffle, standing. “Thank you,” you throw your arms around him, and pull him close, showing your gratitude. He eventually figures out that it’s a hug and hugs you back.

“You really don’t mind?” He asked, hesitant. “Because I... I know it’s stupid. But you never get anything and I know what it like to be ignored by your parents and I just thought—”

“Draco,” you call his attention, finding it sweet that he rambles when he’s nervous. “I don’t mind in the slightest. And it’s not stupid. It’s the kindest thing anyone has done for me,”

Draco fidgets and blushes slightly, looking at the ground.

“I will admit, I’m surprised it’s you,” you mused softly, catching Dracos attention and the hurt on his face. “Only because you’re... I don’t know.” You smile and shrug. “I feel like no one knows that—this part of you,”

“And what part of me is that?” He scoffs, trying to play it off.

“The sweet caring one,” you smile. “Who doesn’t mind sharing his sweets with a girl even though she knows he’s the first to eat dessert every meal,” you raise an eyebrow at him.

Draco goes a deeper shade of red because you’ve caught him in his lie. He starts to apologize again, but you stop him

Later that night you look at all of the letters he wrote you and that you wrote back. And the night before Christmas when everyone else was asleep, you spent the entire night working the letters into a book with magic

You give it to Draco Christmas morning, and though it’s lost in the pile of gifts from his parents, you’re happy (even if your parents didn’t bother to send you anything. You had a few gifts from your friends and you were okay with that)

Draco doesn’t pay much mind to the book until later that night, when he’s alone and can go through it in private. He’s surprised to see that you answered every letter you’ve written him. And he’s sort of in awe. He never knew that they meant that much to you

He thinks of you and your smile and how you’ve poured your heart out into these letters the same way he has and he never thought anyone would open up to him like that

Slytherins had a reputation to uphold—you both knew that, so the fact that both of you had this little secret made things a bit better

You see each other the next day and he thanks you for the gift and it’s a bit awkward, but in a nice way

Draco still sends you letters but now he signs them and they get a bit ridiculous that they make you laugh

“Did you see how Snape tripped over his robes today?” “You’ll never guess what Blaise did today...” “Greg actually asked me if the sky was blue because it’s not blue at night,”

They’re so endearing and making you giggle to yourself. You always catch Draco’s eye from across the hall and he raises an eyebrow at you, daring you to say something

Your friends of course want to know who’s making you laugh with their letters and you try so hard to not let your secret slip because you don’t think Draco would want anyone to know

And you’re afraid if others do know, he’ll stop writing to you. Letting his pride and ego get the better of him.

Draco wonders if you’re embarrassed to be talking to him so he never reveals your secret either but your both a bit frustrated at the other because of this dance you’re going through

He still writes to you over the summer and they’re more diary entries than they are letters but you still love them and respond when you can your parents might get suspicious and you don’t want to lose your penpal

You totally sneak into his families box during the Quidditch World Cup and your parents didn’t notice because they never do and you have the best time with Draco, both rooting for different teams

“You just like them because of Krum,” Draco accuses.

“Do not!” You argue back. “And besides he’s a great player anyway!”

Draco grumbles “I could do better,” and you have to laugh at him and he smiles at you

He grabs your hand and you both run as the Dark Mark is sent out over the match and Draco pulls you out of the chaos to where it was safe and you wait out the attack. He holds you protectively as you shake with fear against your will

Neither of you mention it. But at night you remember the feel of his arms and he remembers your warmth as you both curl around pillows wishing it was the other

Fourth year means the Durmstang students are rooming with the Slytherins and you get to share some of your classes with Krum and you might just explode with awe

Draco is jealous and hell hath no fury

Now Draco starts to send you ridiculous little gifts and notes almost weekly

Your friends (and most of the school) are now interested in this secret admirer of yours and you huff and you’re more annoyed at Draco than anything because he was being well, ridiculous

You grab Draco one day and confront him because he just sent you a bouquet of sunflowers

“What the hell?” You demand. “You said you liked sunflowers in Herbology,” Draco shrugged. You growl and storm away.

Now he’s sending you notes in class when you’re with Victor who doesn’t even sit next to you

At that point the secret is out on who your secret admirer is and now Victor won’t even talk to you because of Draco’s behavior.

You’re livid to say the least.

You stop talking to Draco altogether and become indifferent. You almost tell him to stop sending you things because you don’t want them, but you don’t.

It’s not that you don’t want the gifts and the kind gestures you just know it’s coming from the wrong place and it doesn’t sit right with you.

“What is wrong with you?” Draco demands one day.

“Wrong with me!?” You snap back. “What is wrong with you!? Seriously Draco! I’m not some shiny toy you can show off!! I’m not something you can claim either! So stop trying!”

“Who said that I was—”

You give him a sharp dangerous look and he shuts up.

You storm away again, tears in your eyes because it’s not how you wanted things to go.

It felt like you were walking away from your best friend and you knew you couldn’t fix it. And maybe that’s what it was like.

You almost run into Krum and fall down, but he catches you. Concern grows when he sees you crying. His concern for you just makes you cry more as your run back to your dorm room, not caring about the whispers around you as you lock your door and sob.

There’s a knock on your door and you have a good idea of who it is, but you don’t really want to talk to him right now

And Draco knows that. Sure, it took you to confront him about what he was doing, but you were right, you weren’t some toy to fight over

He sat against the other side of the door, mimicking your curled up position

“...I’m sorry,” You hear through the door. “You’re right. I... you’re not... I’m sorry...”

When you finally have the courage to open the door, he’s gone

You close the door again and flop on your bed, screaming into a pillow

You may or may not fall asleep there...

in the morning there’s a letter sitting on your window sill

Knowing who it’s from, you curl up in your covers with the letter and open it

Draco had spent about two hours thinking of how to make things right again, to prove how sorry he was... and so he poured out his entire heart to you in a letter

it was messy, scratched out, sappy, and heart felt, and apologetic and vulnerable and a beautiful mess that you couldn’t help but read again, and again, and again until you let a few tears slip out

You quickly get dressed for the day and rush into the Great Hall, seeing Draco sulking at the breakfast table, until he sees you, then his eyes go wide with panic and fear

It takes everything in you to remain composed and not run down the line of tables, but you manage

He stands to meet you and you smile, grabbing his robe and pulling him close, pressing your lips to his

“But... I... and you...” Draco fumbles, pulling away.

“I might not want to be owned,” You grin, pulling out his letter, “But I’ll belong to this Draco any day,”

“Deal,” He grins, and cups your face, kissing you again

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