And for today's what in the HELL? post:
So this started with my spin teacher griping (in a not-mean way) that I wrote the step teacher a poem and didn't write her one. Well--the step teacher was sick and I wrote her a limerick; the spin teacher had a birthday....anyway. So I was thinking about verse, and I was also thinking about the continuing darkfic month over at the_pimp_cane and I was also thinking about the pornish_pixies current challenge, femmeslash, which I'm not so sure I can do convincingly.
And so then this happened. It's a dark Hermione/maybe Pansy, with H/D, in nineteen lines of villanelle, which is my favorite structure even though I write them badly.
Which of course means, I share my badly-written verse with y'all. It's probably not porny enough for p-pixies anyway. Sigh. And probably not incredibly plausible, either.
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise,
The skirt from her knee to her hip to her waist,
She dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
At first, was a moment, soft-spoken goodbyes,
From Draco to Harry, unlikely love traced,
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise.
The next was the letter, the proof of the lies,
From Harry to Draco, defining his taste,
She dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
And then she went after, peered over the rise,
With anger she saw as they frolicked and raced,
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise.
Rage grew; he would never lie hot in her thighs,
She coddled her anger, encouraged its haste,
And dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
She went to the wife who would be, to advise,
And pressed to the wall, gripped the skirt's knee unlaced.
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise,
And dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
ed, 4/05, for slightly better form but worse meter. Sigh
And so then this happened. It's a dark Hermione/maybe Pansy, with H/D, in nineteen lines of villanelle, which is my favorite structure even though I write them badly.
Which of course means, I share my badly-written verse with y'all. It's probably not porny enough for p-pixies anyway. Sigh. And probably not incredibly plausible, either.
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise,
The skirt from her knee to her hip to her waist,
She dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
At first, was a moment, soft-spoken goodbyes,
From Draco to Harry, unlikely love traced,
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise.
The next was the letter, the proof of the lies,
From Harry to Draco, defining his taste,
She dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
And then she went after, peered over the rise,
With anger she saw as they frolicked and raced,
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise.
Rage grew; he would never lie hot in her thighs,
She coddled her anger, encouraged its haste,
And dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
She went to the wife who would be, to advise,
And pressed to the wall, gripped the skirt's knee unlaced.
She watched, quite unlike her, so careful and wise,
And dragged it up slowly, with heat in her eyes.
ed, 4/05, for slightly better form but worse meter. Sigh