Title:
half-crazy politicians demoralizing.
Author:
zoedriver
Fandom: RPF Town, Latinfandom, Latindom xD (Romandom?)
![[info]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_u0pTzT-NEZY-dO2wBnr9qzRcSknuN6hI5hc96OAsZhjkLF1S0BfSuaUU0_YbsoRZn-uHwTSAEYPMqbOi8oxI1KA2PN0s4uFfmW2dzYOwpB8Q=s0-d){kind=small}
Characters: Anneo Marco Lucano /
Petronius Arbiter, with references to Aulus Persius Flaccus &
Lucius Seneca Anneo
.
Rating: NC-17 in theory \u0026lt;3 Warning : Slashina, basically I am afraid that shit face. I do not think the sin of highbrow (?) Because it's all a mixture of various errors.
Word Count: 1488
Notes:
She, too, at the Third
P0rn
Fest! I hope that the good souls with that classic will understand! Ç_ç This is a mini-projects designed by me and the dear
irish_breeze
expensive at the time of maturity in order to be able to swallow a lot more easily 'material! And where we found? A write Pornfics xD Anyway, the fic really is bad, but I hope someone like it. To be more concise in explaining the characters better - I'd understand a fine if he did not want to go and read the wiki page ° ° - Lucano is a small equip (at the time of the fic is nineteen and is the ' year that would become famous for his work, "Pharsalia"), will die in twenty-four, killed by Nero, Petronius, as suggested by another prompt is what they say is a dandy avant la lettre, he died a few years after the holding of these facts, , under the emperor. As will be apparent from a reading extremely superficial, the fic does not claim to 'historical' or 'Roman' because they are capable with that kind of realism. To be clear, there are Roman saying 'fuck' or other crap like that, if it bothers you, and I understand, do not read xD Buh Happy reading! \u0026lt;3
Ps: in the banner below the faces of the two protagonists \u0026lt;3
That was not exactly what he did - which was used to doing and he knew if he repeated it and made him laugh, but it was over so and so would end for sure, because he was too drunk and too tired to think of having the strength to do anything else, any more, more, more after this. cheeks red from the wine dense, milk and honey, and caresses the other of which seemed to have forgotten. cheeks red from the wine dense, stared at the ceiling and enjoyed laughter and cups brindanti, fools and all the rest and eventually his head was placed on the floor, a smile and a silly old man with her seductive face and his beard pale yellow, strange wrinkle - that's for everyone, you'll notice two decades, many wrinkles - eyes and self-confident that at the end of the story managed to make him feel. Dirty.
He found himself thinking that his dear friend who knows what had become of him, his chaste friend, his friend the poet, Lost, where are you brother? And I think if he had stayed longer at her side - one or the other - maybe you would not have found lying beneath the old imitation of something halfway between a libertine fifteen and an author of those made and finished, complete with a literary salon, the wife and children of illegal cargo. Oh. The gods only knew if he had a wife.
He felt a strange sense of detachment, as a blow on the head or did not know what. It is not that he was accustomed to drinking and the ladies gold leaking, or sex with strangers known.
"All right, baby?" Petronio laughs. Petronio has a beautiful smile, as Lucan might realize. "Come on, with your little one healthy body at this time you find yourself in these conditions?" Petronio laughs. Lucan asked if I am giving the boring, this big bastard how dare, never seen before and sooner or later they will out, that's for sure. Or kill. Lucan wonders how many teens may have swept into the Emperor's secret room - oh, Nero, Hail Nero, who seems to hear him singing, acting and laughing with his loud voice and funny, as one who never, never, never in life should have the possibility of having power over people, never, never, never.
Petronio laughs, maybe Nero is feeling and we're thinking too, maybe not.
"So you would, little thing? Name, business - "" Marco, my name is Mar. ..- " "And what would you be? A sort of ... a writer, a poet? I have seen you around these parts with the little virgin saint. A child full of problems, but with a good head. You're half crazy politician demoralizing, too? " Lucano laughs, and throws both hands in his face, and feels like this strange need and ends up kissing that old pervert seducing, talking about his best friend as some sort of moral monster and it also shows that it is not entirely far-fetched, but it's really unattractive, but. threw both hands in his face and a finger in his mouth kisses mind, oh, kisses him and asks who will think Aulus Flaccus and laughs because he knows very well that Aulus think, or maybe if you'll be very quiet, Aulus and this thing will not think anything will be done in a perfect world things are not important.
The old spreads her knees and leans on the chest, and Mark is thin, but the old man is and is not heavy, and Mark thinks one thing at a time, one, one, and old laughs at him, his inexperience or whatever.
"are all the things you said"
"Even a policy damned fool?" But Mark did not
matter, and sway, and there is nothing to understand or explain. He could not remember the old man, that sacrosanct Petronio, eyes and soul of Ovid mysterious loner, to be naked or be remembered, once torn this or that good dress, loose belt, and everything else.
"... I also won an award tonight, it" must be that makes you laugh or makes you laugh Petronio, but have the impression that things are not going your way, while close to one 'else, really tight, feels Petronius on his belly, his chest Petronius, Petronius sacrosantissimi on her hips.
And in a strange position, but thinks that in somehow be able to take Petronio and the mouth is not bad, not bad for being a pervert, because his face as if in spite of all the young men enjoyed in that room, the face and difficulty in Marco, Marco finds it a wonderful thing. Because despite all, he seems to have a strange beauty, golden and purple for a while, but it's a moment really want to stay like this for another time, time.
Meanwhile Petronius or who the hell it is, stretching his hands behind his back and slides his fingers down from the navel, the navel of Mark, to the bottom and pick it up and rub him and Marco feels you really did not expect much and it seems they can not even breathe, while Petronius lose control, or maybe he is losing it, everything quantro but Petronio is really entered deeply, deeply and Marco does not understand its none - no more parties or poetry contests. Senate Senate Senate Senate. No more poor idiot crowned with laurels, or glory crap, nothing like that, Uncle, dear Uncle, help me. I want to go to court. Yes, Uncle, I know that I have little time, time. - Is deep and deeply moving, with her hands, and as the move so well behind us, will experience this beautiful old pervert, looking like one of those guys who is disconcerting about writing about, really nice, no jokes, with its share of mud and lack of ideology, that if Mark were to just say, not befitting, Mark, with green eyes and a certain innocence and deep sincere nice mouth full of Petronius. She wanted to scratch away the silver from the glass with bare hands, and stains all blood and bare hands, and had the impression that Petronius would have appreciated.
Maybe he just asked too much, take too much, too won.
of time (time) must be spent very little, Marco Lucano Anneo yet is in the hands of others, which seems to take it the right way. And so it goes away and just enough sweetness with the need, the perfect degree of affection, the most right amount of love can, can - who has no idea how, why Mark himself there he could never , damn damn old - he can lie down and Mark is in his arms above him, embraced him, Petronius and smells, despite the wine and vomit and sweat, it smells of sex and some - for Heracles - intellectual freedom, the stuff of nightmares.
But Mark, Mark is lost in that perfect world and does not care and never wanted anything so much in her life, her lips are four in a while with hips swaying Petronio take in hand, and it is a fact self-esteem and does not like to feel sorry for those with a face there, a step back, take it in her mouth, as if it had never worked so hard and shit, Petronio seems happy, fuck that, fuck that, that ca. ..-
Petronio smiles and rubs his eyes, the usual, and Mark asks how I managed to find him so attractive, while cleaning the face against the pillow in a pillow of blue that you had not noticed. (Believed to be on the ground or something like that, poor little, drunk with courage and innocence).
"But how old are you, then" he murmurs. He hesitates. It's just a matter of you ...- time, yes.
"Nineteen," which, despite everything, Lucan is not the one who tells lies.
"Bastard recommended demented dog. I never could see that corrupt your uncle. "
" Despite everything, I think my uncle is still good. That is why I agreed to - that I recommend "This thing makes a lot
laugh Petronio that by lying and sitting with the force of coughing, as if he knew or hoped to have little. In short, to have little, too.
"I understand, small dog insane. I understand. You're not - You're not one of those "and has recorded more dense and sweet wine in hand and where he finds and where to find the strength to drink it? "Unbearable nostalgia of those trigger-happy Republicans disguised as Cicero Cicero of Nero's clothing?"
Petronius Arbiter, with references to Aulus Persius Flaccus &
Lucius Seneca Anneo
.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1488
Notes:
She, too, at the Third
P0rn
Fest! I hope that the good souls with that classic will understand! Ç_ç This is a mini-projects designed by me and the dear
irish_breeze
Ps: in the banner below the faces of the two protagonists \u0026lt;3
He found himself thinking that his dear friend who knows what had become of him, his chaste friend, his friend the poet, Lost, where are you brother? And I think if he had stayed longer at her side - one or the other - maybe you would not have found lying beneath the old imitation of something halfway between a libertine fifteen and an author of those made and finished, complete with a literary salon, the wife and children of illegal cargo. Oh. The gods only knew if he had a wife.
He felt a strange sense of detachment, as a blow on the head or did not know what. It is not that he was accustomed to drinking and the ladies gold leaking, or sex with strangers known.
"All right, baby?" Petronio laughs. Petronio has a beautiful smile, as Lucan might realize. "Come on, with your little one healthy body at this time you find yourself in these conditions?" Petronio laughs. Lucan asked if I am giving the boring, this big bastard how dare, never seen before and sooner or later they will out, that's for sure. Or kill. Lucan wonders how many teens may have swept into the Emperor's secret room - oh, Nero, Hail Nero, who seems to hear him singing, acting and laughing with his loud voice and funny, as one who never, never, never in life should have the possibility of having power over people, never, never, never.
Petronio laughs, maybe Nero is feeling and we're thinking too, maybe not.
"So you would, little thing? Name, business - "
The old spreads her knees and leans on the chest, and Mark is thin, but the old man is and is not heavy, and Mark thinks one thing at a time, one, one, and old laughs at him, his inexperience or whatever.
"are all the things you said"
"Even a policy damned fool?" But Mark did not
matter, and sway, and there is nothing to understand or explain. He could not remember the old man, that sacrosanct Petronio, eyes and soul of Ovid mysterious loner, to be naked or be remembered, once torn this or that good dress, loose belt, and everything else.
"... I also won an award tonight, it" must be that makes you laugh or makes you laugh Petronio, but have the impression that things are not going your way, while close to one 'else, really tight, feels Petronius on his belly, his chest Petronius, Petronius sacrosantissimi on her hips.
And in a strange position, but thinks that in somehow be able to take Petronio and the mouth is not bad, not bad for being a pervert, because his face as if in spite of all the young men enjoyed in that room, the face and difficulty in Marco, Marco finds it a wonderful thing. Because despite all, he seems to have a strange beauty, golden and purple for a while, but it's a moment really want to stay like this for another time, time.
Meanwhile Petronius or who the hell it is, stretching his hands behind his back and slides his fingers down from the navel, the navel of Mark, to the bottom and pick it up and rub him and Marco feels you really did not expect much and it seems they can not even breathe, while Petronius lose control, or maybe he is losing it, everything quantro but Petronio is really entered deeply, deeply and Marco does not understand its none - no more parties or poetry contests. Senate Senate Senate Senate. No more poor idiot crowned with laurels, or glory crap, nothing like that, Uncle, dear Uncle, help me. I want to go to court. Yes, Uncle, I know that I have little time, time. - Is deep and deeply moving, with her hands, and as the move so well behind us, will experience this beautiful old pervert, looking like one of those guys who is disconcerting about writing about, really nice, no jokes, with its share of mud and lack of ideology, that if Mark were to just say, not befitting, Mark, with green eyes and a certain innocence and deep sincere nice mouth full of Petronius. She wanted to scratch away the silver from the glass with bare hands, and stains all blood and bare hands, and had the impression that Petronius would have appreciated.
Maybe he just asked too much, take too much, too won.
of time (time) must be spent very little, Marco Lucano Anneo yet is in the hands of others, which seems to take it the right way. And so it goes away and just enough sweetness with the need, the perfect degree of affection, the most right amount of love can, can - who has no idea how, why Mark himself there he could never , damn damn old - he can lie down and Mark is in his arms above him, embraced him, Petronius and smells, despite the wine and vomit and sweat, it smells of sex and some - for Heracles - intellectual freedom, the stuff of nightmares.
But Mark, Mark is lost in that perfect world and does not care and never wanted anything so much in her life, her lips are four in a while with hips swaying Petronio take in hand, and it is a fact self-esteem and does not like to feel sorry for those with a face there, a step back, take it in her mouth, as if it had never worked so hard and shit, Petronio seems happy, fuck that, fuck that, that ca. ..-
Petronio smiles and rubs his eyes, the usual, and Mark asks how I managed to find him so attractive, while cleaning the face against the pillow in a pillow of blue that you had not noticed. (Believed to be on the ground or something like that, poor little, drunk with courage and innocence).
"But how old are you, then" he murmurs. He hesitates. It's just a matter of you ...- time, yes.
"Nineteen," which, despite everything, Lucan is not the one who tells lies.
"Bastard recommended demented dog. I never could see that corrupt your uncle. "
" Despite everything, I think my uncle is still good. That is why I agreed to - that I recommend "This thing makes a lot
laugh Petronio that by lying and sitting with the force of coughing, as if he knew or hoped to have little. In short, to have little, too.
"I understand, small dog insane. I understand. You're not - You're not one of those "and has recorded more dense and sweet wine in hand and where he finds and where to find the strength to drink it? "Unbearable nostalgia of those trigger-happy Republicans disguised as Cicero Cicero of Nero's clothing?"
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