#ho ho ho merry pain

[scandalous-dirtcup]

random transformers sketchings and such… I’m slowly becoming more confident at drawing them though! (pain)

(I was going to leave the silly scribblings out but McCarthy the man himself said he liked the little cat Drift so yurrr)

also ho ho ho Merry Smissmas fellas

[botchedsundoll]

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; christmas hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none! pure fluff

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; ho ho ho merry christmas idc if its nov its christmas time… do ppl drink on christmas? we do so idek? icl this is all like stuff i made up bcos i don’t celebrate christmas like this but wtv we roll #wesołychświąt

C. OLIVEIRA

do not let this man near the kitchen. everything that can go wrong goes WRONG

ask him to take something out the oven, he drops it. ask him to stir something in the bowl he stirs too vigorously and it goes flying all over the counters

he’s a pain. he’s distracting. constantly getting infront of you with the mistletoe, thinking he’s slick by trying to sneak in kisses. constantly sneaking bites of food whenever he thinks you’re not looking (you are, and you smack his hands away with a spoon)

one thing he’s actually good at and enjoys is cookie decorating. he’ll make little gingerbread men of you two and make them so damn detailed. makes one for jill too, though with less care and her face ends up a bit… strange

he’s THAT person which is always ringing everyone, friends and family, wishing them a merry christmas and sends them stupid gifs slavic babcias love so much (if u dont know what i mean then☹️)

LOVES the whole aspect of the christmas tree yet hates putting it together, it pisses him off to no end and half way through ends up calling you over to help him… definitely picks you up so that you can put the star on top

if he gets an ugly christmas sweater you best believe he’s wearing it for the full day, no shame

L. KENNEDY

depends which leon we’re talking about

younger leon puts in more effort, older leon genuinely can’t be fucked to do much

walks around with a trash bag when everyone’s opening presents so there’s no mess on the floor

your guys’ house is literally the christmas function. every year. mostly due to you inviting everyone round and deciding to host it, much to leon’s annoyance but he doesn’t mind THAT much since he loves you!!

definitely the best gift giver. for some damn reason he just knows what everyone wants, genuinely no explanation for it. he just does

he’s such a sweetheart, constantly asking you if you need help with anything in the kitchen or whether you need him to pop to the store for anything

he 100% sang carols when he was younger. just imagine 7 year old leon, hair gelled back, button up shirt, stood infront of the tv singing carols (lets pretend he didn’t have all that trauma okay)… get him to sing again, he might cave once he’s drunk enough with chris

on the topic of chris, something ALWAYS happens when the pair have had a few and aren’t sober any longer. something always gets broken for some reason

one year, they randomly got up and started dancing. leon went flying into the christmas tree and took it down with him.

i hc him as having a rather large sweet tooth, so he’s always down for some cookie decorating! it’s rather sloppy and they end up looking questionable most of the time, but he ends up eating half of them before he’s even fully finished decorating so that’s not much of a problem anyways

C. REDFIELD

santa. need i say more?

nag him constantly to wear a santa outfit or atleast a santa hat. he will cave eventually

DEFINITELY gets a wallet for christmas every damn year without fail, yet doesn’t even use the damn wallets

him in the kitchen helping you out is definitely… something. he doesn’t know how to measure - what the fuck is a cup?

you asked him to help you out and stuff the turkey. he walked out the kitchen.

gets claire shitty gifts on purpose but then gives her her ACTUAL gift. they’re siblings after all, he can’t help it, old habits die hard

hates decorating the outside of the house. it’s his nightmare. all the stupid lights, just no

goes CRAZY on your gift. it’s like a little reward for all the effort you go through every year, and it’s always something you wanted badly and doesn’t fail to put a smile on your face

he’s not necessarily a fan of sweet things, but hot chocolate? that’s a completely different story entirely, you end up having to send him to buy milk since he drank the whole damn carton and there’s none left by the time you get around to actually preparing for dinner

like leon, sits there with a trash bag. he gives such dad vibes i can’t stop imagining it

him and leon ultimate christmas duo after a few drinks. all of a sudden chris is in the biggest christmas spirit ever and can’t get last christmas out his head

best thing is? he’s not even too big on christmas. he actually celebrates it just because of you, what a sweetheart

[neon-kazoo]

A Very Special Lighting

The hero awoke with a groan. Their head was pounding, their body was freezing, and something was very, very wrong.

The first thing they noticed was an offensively loud countdown from what sounded like a cacophony of voices.

They(?) yelled excitedly, “THREE!…TWO!…”

The second thing that they noticed was that they were not horizontal—how one would typically wake up in the morning. Instead, they were vertical, and something was now insultingly bright for what they presumed to be dawn.

“ONE!!!”

Roaring cheers followed closely with the end of the suspicious countdown. Hero had barely had time to consider covering their ears before another one of their senses was assaulted, this time by the onslaught of light. They automatically blinked the blurs out of their eyes and were met with starbursts of twinkling yellow.

Were those…Christmas lights?

All their limbs were lost in the glow. They tried to move but found that they couldn’t. With what little sensation they held, they surmised there were some kind of restraints keeping their legs and arms spread like a starfish.

No, not a starfish.

A star.

Below them laid hundreds of green branches that stretched out to the edges of the square in the city’s center. Hundreds more dots (people?) lined around the ginormous skirt.

They were stuck on top of a giant Christmas tree.

And, if they weren’t mistaken,…they were the topper.

As if their day(…night?) couldn’t get any better, one aforementioned dot started to enlarge, making the flight up several stories to their level. They groaned in realization as the figure approached.

Hero only knew one dastardly mastermind who could fly.

Villain stopped to float only a few feet in front of them, greeting gleefully, “Hero! I’m so glad you could make it to the lighting ceremony! This is a very special day for lots of children, you know.”

Hero gaped, though they doubted their face could be seen with the intensity of the light source behind and around them.

Since when did Villain care about children?

And more importantly, since when did Villain have a beard?!

Fluffy white hair flowed down from their chin, and it took Hero a moment to connect the cherry red suit and matching floppy hat, not to mention the extra padding surrounding their midsection that looked far too impractical to be used as protection in a fight.

Villain was dressed as Santa.

Villain was dressed as Santa.

Their head pulsed again with pain. Feelings of confliction flooded their thoughts as they watched the joy swim below them.

They knew they should be focusing on taking down Villain but…would that…(and they couldn’t believe they were thinking this) ruin it?

They asked the only question they could think of, muttering the words through ridiculously chapped lips and chattering teeth, “What- what time is it?”

“Midnight, silly!”

Right. They were supposed to be watching this on TV right now, from the warmth of their heated blanket with a homemade mug of hot chocolate. As much as they would have loved to participate in the ceremony, this was…definitely not what they would have had in mind. A plan of their own would have involved a lot more marshmallows, and a lot less Villain.

“Are you…gonna let me down?”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember seeing that particular request on your Christmas list. Send me another letter, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Villain bellowed a rolling laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a classic ‘ho-ho-ho’. Before Hero could even begin to think of a retort to what they had suggested, Villain was already moving far enough away for them to deem the effort futile.

A bewildered Hero could only watch as they took off, having mounted a sled-looking contraption that they carried with them into the sky, led by several floating deer-looking animals, the nose of one of which was adorned with a small glowing red dot. The unmistakable sound of jingling bells followed.

Villain exclaimed merrily as they flew away into the night, “Merry Christmas, City!”

Apparently, even villains could enjoy the holidays.

Though, if you asked Hero, Villain was enjoying this one a little too much.

[imastrangeone98]

A Truly Festive Holiday

(A/N: tis the season to be horknee- oddly enough this doesn't have smut. Also I haven't been writing in a while; law school does that XD but hopefully I'm back for a few weeks before the next semester starts)

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO MY WRITING BESITE @philistiniphagottini !!!! The horkneest, simpiest, creative genius I've ever met on this website, you deserve only the best 🤩

Warning: mostly fluff, a little suggestive at the end, neuvillete being a wholesome and confused dragon dad for the melusines, very short but some things don't need to be long to be good

"Darling, I don't think this costume is..."

You can't stifle the giggle at the sight of him: the Chief Justice himself, decked out in a red jacket and pants that fit just a tad too large on his frame, complete with a large red hat and a poofy fake beard.

He looks adorable.

"Oh, hush, Neuvi, you look just fine. It's an exact replica of St. Nick; they'll love it!" You affectionately pat his dramatically large fake belly, and he winces.

"My love, do you really believe this to be necessary...?"

"Oh, come now; it was your idea to throw them a little surprise party to celebrate the holiday, don't back out now! And besides, you know how much Sedene's been looking forward to this! Now be a good sport and go hide, they'll be arriving soon!"

You usher him into your storage room, blatantly ignoring his pained glare at you, and hide him as best you can beneath the large stack of presents, just in time for three sharp knocks on the door.

Just in time. You open the door to gaze upon a few dozen Melusines, wide-eyed and several carrying a few adorably wrapped presents.

"Happy holidays!" they cheer in unison, and the adorable girls swarm you with cuteness and gifts, clamoring and gushing over the lavish decorations, marveling over the glittering tree in the living room, setting down their gifts and prepared snacks, all no doubt wondering where Neuvillete is.

"He told me that he'll show up once St. Nick comes!" you reassure Mamere, who nods at your words. "I'm sure it won't be long, right?!"

You flick the lights off right at the last word, plunging the room into pitch black. For a brief moment, there's only the curious whispers of the Melusines. No peep from Neuvillete.

Oh, come on, you think nervously, don't tell me you forgot your cue! We practiced for how long now-?!

"Ho ho ho..." A voice calls out. A door slams open, and you sigh in relief as you turn on the lights once more. To your knowing amusement, and to the Melusines' surprise, Neuvillete stands on the wooden box close to the fireplace. Right on cue.

"Merry Christmas..." he says in the loudest voice he can muster, and you nearly cackle at the bullets of sweat running down his face. Poor thing; you'll treat him to a nice glass of water after the festivities.

For a solid second, the Melusines simply stare at him. Then, it's an explosion of sound and movement as they swarm him, laughing and cheering, poking at his fake tummy and tugging on his beard, asking him question after question. You guffaw at his obvious discomfort at the situation.

"Is the belly real, Monsieur? How did you get it so big?"

"It's not a real belly, Aeife- Oh, don't tug that, it's very delicate-"

"Monsieur, you shouldn't grow a beard! It doesn't suit you at all!"

"Sedene, don't you think you're being a bit harsh- Ouch!"

"Don't listen to her, Monsieur, you look wonderful in it!"

"Thank you, Kiara, but it is quite itchy, so I likely won't be wearing it again for a while-"

You clap your hands. "Well, well, I'm sure our dear St. Nick needs some time to get all of your presents in order! How about we get something to eat in the meantime?"

The girls cheer and crowd into the kitchen. He gives you a grateful smile, and you merely wink in response.

By the time you manage to get food onto all of their plates, you're exhausted and barely manage to collapse on your lover's lap, a plate of food and a tall glass of cold water in hand, the latter of which you pass to Neuvillete, which he takes with a soft "thank you" before downing the contents in one gulp.

"You must be exhausted, you're not savoring it like you usually do," you giggle, nuzzling into his neck. Well, what you can reach with his fake beard. "And it was that special water from Mondstadt's Cider Lake that you like so much."

"My love, you underestimate how exceedingly hot it is in this costume," he sighs. Neuvillete peels off the beard before nosing your cheek, leaving soft kisses on the corners of your eye and lips. "Even so, I'm glad you convinced me to wear this. The Melusines quite liked it, I think."

"Like it? They loved it." The two of you relax in each other's arms, watching the girls play and eat and chatter and giggle. "This is nice. We should do this again next year. It feels like a big family get-together."

He hums in acknowledgment.

"I was thinking..." He puts down his glass to tug you further onto his lap, adjusting you so you're sitting face to face. "About a family, maybe we could... add an addition or two? I'm sure they would like a sibling."

His hand, warm and steady, slides over your belly and he thumbs at your skin, rubbing small circles. You sigh dreamily at his soothing motion, then lean back to dramatically think over the matter.

"I don't know~ That's quite a big request to ask St. Nick~"

"Well, I'm sure he'd be open to ideas." Neuvillete pulls you back towards him and rubs his forehead against yours, a sweet, sultry smile tugging on his lips.

"I do have full disclosure on his wish list, after all."

--------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: neuvillete genuinely won my heart over, ugh I love him so much

Happy holidays, no matter what you celebrate or don't celebrate! Have a good time with family and/or friends, and a happy new year to y'all!

[annabelle-creart]

I do remember the first time I saw the bot, I just don't visualize completely, in my defense, the pain blurred a bit my optics

But I do remember his tired voice and the note I read on him

I do remember the red of his frame that, against usual, wasn't shiny but just noticiable

I do remember he didn't like me because of my comment

I do remember I ignored him completely with no chance of actually have a conversation despite he was the only bot who cared of me enough for that

And yet, one week later he brought back to me the little notebook I forgot on the medbay's room just because he thought it was okay

I had to admit, it was mostly my loneliness and gratitude what made ask him to stay longer, and because of it I let him go because I didn’t wanted to be such a burden for a stranger. Coincidence later made me step on the bot again and finally had the day I wanted when I first met him, finally taking a look on his optics full of curiosity and empathy, and dentae with fangs, fangs weren’t common these days

I thought of him even after the date ended

And against all odds, I called him again, and again and again and left messages and invited him again

I don't know if it felt like waking from a dream or falling on one, but... here I am

Living a live where each morning I can burry my face on Knock Out's neck before going to work, where I can see him smile or recieving a kiss, where I can scary him by accident when he comes late from medbay, where I can fall into recharge only by just hugging him

Living the life I never wanted but now hope to keep

And yes I do remember everything since the beginning...

It was the windy season, windy as expected, Cybertron never was a place of trees, but people liked to put some of the ones that could resist the terrible soil on the saddest places to give it some kind of "life"

But that day was Turquoise's burial, there was no kind of life in that place, if my tutor, Mural, was here, she would had said “even the sparks that still shine are as dead as the buried”, my thoughts were too noisy to even hear Steeljaw's speech

In general, I was over with him

He couldn’t even make it right before, he doesn’t deserve being right there, but nor the thoughts or the notes would tell me what to say if I was in his place

If I was just there before- I shouldn’t leave her alone with Steeljaw but she was too comfy with him- I shouldn’t leave them go alone, but yet I trusted in her, technically she was my superior, I couldn’t do anything

And yet it still hurts, to know I couldn’t do anything for it not to happen

I sat on a bench, as far as I could from the burial, and rested my helmet on my free servo, the other rested tied on a sling because of the accident, and closed my optics, I didn’t want to hear noise or anything else, I was tired and hoped for all of this to end fast, including the harsh feeling, I already cried too much over this but for some reason my processor can’t just stop turning around and around the memory like a merry go-round. Another piece of the bittersweet memory was about to take me over, but a voice distracted me

“Ahem” I remember the voice never was as kind as that day, not one I can think off right now, but it surprised me, better said, startled me, I didn’t recognized it at first and it came from nowhere. I raised my head the moment it caught my attention “sorry, I-”

“What are you doing here?” I asked jumping off the bench, still surprised but lowing my tone to be polite, I recognized him, that opaque but pure red was easy to remember. As always, my tone was too hard, I’m usually bad at reading people’s expressions but the corporal language of this bot was too… expressive, it was obvious I impressed the bot

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but you-” he said, searching in his bag, I’m usually good with names but my processor was too tired to even try to remember the doctor’s name, which I lamented for myself. When he lifted his helm and servo, he revealed it, it was my notebook! “-left this at the hospital’s room”

I looked at it for a moment, asking myself if that was real, I wandered in my mind how could I forgot that, it was Turquoise’s gift! She gave it to me because she trusted me as her fellow and friend and I just forgot it because I was too distracted! How could I do that? How could I forget…? I really missed her. I received the notebook and the pen with my good servo. I missed her a lot, this was one of the few things that remained from her, and I was glad it was with me back again. How could I forget of her so easily? But I was glad she came back to me

“Thanks” I greeted the doctor “I don’t remember leaving it” it was just a dumb comment of mine. I sat on the bench again and looked at the notebook, despite I was glad it was with me, I couldn’t stop repeating the scene again, like if the notebook was a some kind of catalyst, I ended up looking it with a resentment I didn’t noticed was there, I was glad to have the book back, but I didn’t wanted it back

I wanted her back

I ended up burying my faceplate with a slap on the notebook with a sigh. My spark felt already too tight

“I, ah…” I heard the doctor murmured as he sat at my side, I’ll guess, he will say sorry “I’m sorry” knew it. He’s not the first bot to lament with a sorry today, and he will not be the last in the next days

“Thanks” yet I replied, I was tired of that but I couldn’t be impolite. He then sat on silence, and I didn’t said anything, the difference is that now my helm was quiet, I still felt tired, still had that weird resentment on my spark. I wanted to… I didn’t knew what I actually wanted

“Well, I, ah, I hope you have a good day-”

“Can you-” my helm suddenly throw fast at the feeling, not wanting something but not wanting something “please stay?” I didn’t want to be alone right now “just a moment”

“Ok…” fortunately, he replied, and again we were sit on silence, that was way better than to sit on silence alone, I don’t know what changed, but to know someone was right aside me made my thoughts stop, I think it was just the fact I didn’t wanted to share how obvious it was my melancholy with a stranger, but that helped my processor calm a bit, and with the quietness, the memory of when I met him ran on my optics, finally a name pop out

“Knock Out, right?”

“Ah- yes, I am”

“What you said the other day…” I remember the exact words of Turquoise’s message “it worked, thank you for it” this time I greeted, I didn’t liked the message, and it didn’t worked as expected, but I was glad her message was given to me

“Oh, I’m glad it helped… how was she?”

“A bot out of the box,” I replied “maybe the craziest and strangest I’ve ever met, she talked a lot and laughed a lot. I will not miss how loud she laughed, it was irritating, but she was contagious… I loved that” again melancholy hit me as a described her

“She seemed brave, and kinda funny”

“She was…” I know she’s dead, is okay to say it in past, but it doesn’t feel right “is weird to say it in past”

“That happens” he replied with serene faceplate

“Are you accomplished to that?” By Primus’ sake, why did I said that-?! Whatever, it’s just curiosity “you’re a doctor after all”

“No, it never gets easy,” I should not have said that. He says it with such normalcy “but it means you care, that’s what keeps me on my pedes”

He says it as if it is the most normal thing in the world, sometimes I wonder how could someone live with that burden, of knowing that you did all you can but still wasn’t enough. I was glad that didn’t pulled him down, if he can, a bot that see that almost everyday, then, there was no reason why I shouldn’t

But it still felt hard to deal with. The feeling was tight and attached to my spark as a virus

But if he could, I could

I remember that was one of the things I admired the most on him

“Thanks” I told him after a silence

“For what?” He asked

“For staying” I replied, and I was really thankful

“Well, there’s no need. I just wanted to be kind”

“And I’m thankful for it” I said again, I actually was about to say the same over and over “can I, at least, invite you to something?”

“What? No! There’s no need to! I mean, thanks but really, you don’t have to” I couldn’t tell if he felt awkward or uncomfortable, but I couldn’t just insist like that if he already felt like this

“It is okay, then” I told him “thanks, again. Have a nice day” I made a little bow and walked away, not before he waved his servo at me and also went

Nonetheless, since that day I remember that at first I couldn’t get why I wanted to stick myself to Knock Out, he was just a bot that helped me, but for a moment I looked behind, I didn’t knew why but I felt bad when he was already gone

I wanted to spend more time with him, but I couldn’t tell if it was because I felt sad and needed company, because if that was the case, it would be egotistical of me to meet with a stranger again just to relieve my own pain

I preferred maybe it was better to just leave things like this and wait…

Until Blades’ creation day

[popcornforone]

Mistletoe and Whine

A Max Phillips Fan Fic

I have too much in draft everywhere. Film reviews, notes, fics & I did actually have a very predicative Sunday playing catch up. However very randomly after watching an alternative Christmas film on Saturday night & my head still thinking about it, my mind stumbled into this festive Fic idea for Max Phillips. So here we are writing about our favourite vampire over the festive season. & it’s going to get sexy.

Synopsis:- Chance encounters with Max have lead you to your 5th anniversary, & he wants to make sure that you whine as he celebrates with you.

Word count:2750

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV Sex, established relationship, vampire lore so biting, feasting & blood drinking, lack of consent, alcohol, drugs, swearing. Innuendo, intense orgasms. Basically like most couples they get steamy in their special day, it just so happens they are vampires.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. All feed back is always welcome. I hope you enjoy.

It’s your fourth espresso martini of the night. You & the girls are at an adults only winter wonderland. Candy canes have secret ingredients to make you extra happy, the chatter is loud, the games are intense but fun & the music is belting.

“Okay” Frankie says “who’s ready for us to go & play the next thing”

“Oooh im not sure I can move” Tina says. “And look” she waves her hands in front of her face “there’s 6 hands on my two arms” clearly the special sweets were effecting her more.

“Well I’m just gonna go sort myself out, but I’ll come find you in about 5minutes” you say. You need some water & to use the toilet. Your the mum of the group, your always the most sensible. You check with Lucy that she’s okay to hold the fort & make sure no one does anything crazy as you nip to the bathroom. It’s not that far away & you know it will take your friends in a sober undrugged state at least 10mins to pick what they want to do next, but with them high on everything, they won’t budge. You’ve got plenty of time.

As you walk past the Christmas trees you turn a corner & accidentally walk into someone.

“Oooh im sorry” you say as your shoulders clash. You look up & make eye contact. Your frozen. Two deep brown eyes make contact with you. If you knew any better you were being hypnotised. The red tie. The Santa hat. The broad shoulders. The dark suit. A smile like the devil.

“Ho Ho Ho… merry Christmas to you, my victim” you hear this deep voice & it arouses you. You giggle back. Suddenly his large hand is around your neck. He’s pushes you against the wall of the little hut that’s selling pretzels behind you. You gasp for air.

“Am I a Christmas treat?” You ask. You then feel your scarf be tugged off. His tongue licks up your neck. He always loves the taste of fresh meet, be it consensual or not.

“More, your my grand feast. The Satan Clause wants you all to himself.” He says. He makes eye contact once more making sure all his hypnosis, mixed with the drink & drugs you’ve had tonight, mean you won’t remember a thing. He licks his lips. “I’m famished” Those beautiful brown eyes turn to red & you feel the sharp pain as those fangs dig into your neck & your body jolts & you scream.

“MAX!!!!!”

You jolt awake. A sweaty sticky mess. Panting gasping for air. You check the clock, it’s 7pm & you lie back down onto the bed. Desperate to get air into your body. The bedroom door flings open & there stands Max. Two cups of warmed blood for you both on this winters evening. The perfect way to wake up.

“You okay baby” he asks. He walked over to you in his long white dressing gown & hands you your mug. Just by the smell you can tell it’s AB positive.

“Nightmare, that’s all” you say & you sip your blood. You make a small mmm sound as it hits your taste buds. The iron sinking into your system. This is your favourite blood type.

“What was it today?” He asks as max rubs your back. Your undead skin is always cold, but even he can tell despite you sweating & being in a panic that it’s very icy.

“The day we met…” you start “… but no consent, you just had your way with me & sunk your teeth inside me”

“We both know that’s not how it went down” Max says as he shakes his head. Vampires only have nightmares when things aren’t certain. You’ve only been a vampire 3 years. You’re almost at your vampire potential, but you do still sometimes forget you aren’t human.

“No you were very shy about it, didn’t want to interrupt the game me & my friends were playing” you smile & reminisce.

*

It wasn’t a winter wonderland you & your friends were at. It was your local pub. It was board game night, & you & your friends were a little tipsy but no drugs, other than cigarettes. You were playing articulate with them all & smiling.

“Royal family, not the ginger one” Tina says.

“Prince William”

“Diana”

“Prince Andrew” Tina collected her card

“High trouser”

“SIMON COWELL” you all shout at once & Tina collects another.

“Doctor Who”

“Ooh god there’s 14 of them” you roll your eyes & then the buzzer goes off. “Times up” Lucy counts Tina cards.

“She got 8”

“Which doctor was it”

“John Hurt”

“Seriously of all the clues you went for doctor who? Not alien or…” you scoff & down your drink.

“Sorry I’ve binged it all again recently” she say. You all laugh, Tina loves her scifi.

“Well I’m gonna nip to the toilet before the next round” you say & you wobble in your heels as you get up from the table.

“How many drinks have you had tonight” Frankie asks.

“Not that many, I blame the shoes.”

You walk to the bathroom use the facilities & then as you leave to rejoin the group , you lose your balance as your heel slips. You can see the Christmas tree in front of you, that your about to face plant & break as you fall forward. But then you stop mid fall.

“It’s okay I gotcha” says a very deep voice. Two arms are wrapped around you & pull you up. You turn your head to say thank you but all that glances back is this man’s beautiful handsome face. So perfect. So divine. It’s love at first sight.

“Wow” you say & then realise what you’ve said as you see him blush a little “did I say that outloud?”

“Yes you did” he helps you to your feet. “It’s okay, I think your rather wow too” you giggle & turn red.

“Ha your funny”

“I’m serious” he says “I’ve searched everywhere for the person I’m meant to be with, but I never thought they would actually really stumble upon me” he smiles. You’re now standing up & you both look at each other up & down. You say your name & he takes your hand & shakes it “Im Max” he’s clearly a charmer. You bet he says this to all the girls.

“Well Mr Max can I buy you a drink, as a thank you” you say.

“I think we’ve both had enough to drink” he says saying that he thinks that’s why you fell.

“No it’s the heels, I don’t normally wear them. Special occasion.”

“Oooh you’re the lot in the corner, on your girls night aren’t you”

“Are we that loud & obnoxious?” You ask feeling ashamed.

“Never apologise for who you are, always be you” his thumb graces over your chin. His eyes make contact. “Where have you been all my life?” He asks.

“I don’t know, where have you been” you lips are inches away.

“Searching, yet I didnt realise it would be someone like you” these word are soft. His lips part. You look at him & see there’s mistletoe behind him on the wall. He sees you looking past him & turns around. “Well it’s bad luck if we don’t, don’t want to ruin the Christmas spirit.”

You go for it & lean in. Kissing deeply a man you met 4 minutes ago. His lips are plump. You easily slip your tongue inside as your deep kiss gets more passionate. His hand is up in your hair. Yours caress his clean shaven face & his shoulders. It may only be for a few seconds but it’s something that you want to do with this man for the rest of your life.

From behind you, you hear your girls all cheer. You never do this on a night out. You are the careful one of the group. Your break the kiss & turn around & go shhhh, before facing Max again.

“They seem happy for you” he smoulders

“It’s never me who gets the guy” you say & you beam, you miss the feel of those lips already.

“Why don’t you introduce me?” Max says as his eyes dazzle.

“Do you think you’re gonna be sticking around Max?”

“Ooh beautiful you have no idea.”

*

You smile at Max back in the now, as you finnish sipping your mug of blood on the bed. His hand is still slowly stroking your back.

“Nice memory trip?” He asks. He finds it so cute when you glaze over to remember past memories in such detail. He wishes he could go back to some of his memories in such detail as you do.You put your empty mug down.

“Your lips still taste as good as our first kiss 5 years ago”

“Are you sure?” Max raises an eyebrow. You never need to be encouraged to take advantage of your man. He then reaches into his gown pocket & produces a little bundle of mistletoe. “It’s actually today, Happy anniversary baby” you practically pounce on him. Lips that always ignite your undead soul. A touch as he caresses you, that fills you with joy & glee, the noises you both make are sweet songs to each other.

Max hand lets go of its mug & it crashes to the floor. A small amount of blood that was left in his mug spills across the floor. The mistletoe follows. He loves how passionate you are in the mornings. Morning sex with you is delight, even if your morning is 7pm. You straddle him & undo the cord to his gown, hoping he’s got nothing on underneath. His hands are grasping your bum. Squeezing it as your lips continue to lock & your dead hearts feel like they are pulsing, filled with adrenaline. Your body already rolling into his lap ready for pleasure grinding on his thigh.

“Maxie” you exhale when you lips part. It’s drawn out a long whine. But one where you can feel how excited he is.

“Ooh baby” you help his shoulders & you both remove his dressing gown. You initial instincts were right. He’s naked beneath. His length hard & leaking & you smile. His hands leave your bum & find the bottom of your red silk night dress & free you from it. Your breast look extra perky today in the cold winter air in your bedroom & you feel sexy.

“Happy anniversary my forever” you say as you adjust yourself to take him all. He’s also sat up & he’s so beguiled. He moans deeply, as he slips his penis through your slick.

“Ooh you’re drenching me already” he states.

“Can you blame me?”

“No, never”

“Oooh fuck” he is slow as he pushes through your entrance & makes sure his shaft is fully inside you. Be it alive or undead he loves it when you whine & moan as he fills you up each time.

“You good baby” still after all these years max still asks you.

“On cloud 9” you whimper. Your earlier grinding on his thigh now means his penis glides around you. Your walls feeling every inch of his thrusts. He always feels so good. That’s why you fell for him. He may have used some vampire tricks on you to make things move quicker but you always realised & he then didn’t need to persuade you in that way.

“Let me pleasure you” his hand slips between your two naked bodies as you match each other’s rhythms to make sure this is sweaty hot & passionate. He strums you like a double base, your clit quivering quickly.

“Max” you moan.

“Whine baby” he mumbles & he pulls you towards him & licks a stripe up from between your breasts up your chest & then your neck. The salt & sweatiness makes him smile & the way his tongue feels as it leaves its own moistness across your skin gives you goosebumps.

“Oooh Maxie” you feel like you are being spread wider than before. Each roll forward as you take him as you finger nails dig into his shoulders bring you closer to euphoria. Each ooooh noise escaping your mouth has his finger work faster.

“So good, so sexy” he moans before his lips latch back to your nipple. Your tummy flush to his, sweat dripping everywhere.

“Mmm mmmm mmmaxxxx oh fuck oh fuck yes don’t stop baby mmmm fuckkkkkk” he giggles the more you moan & whine, desperate for more. Being undead hasnt decreased your thirst for your man.

“So tight & it will always be this tight” he manages to muster his thrust are pounding away. Each motion he’s closer. This was never going to be a long session. That can wait for later. This is two soul mates fucking away their bleary eyed start to their night lost in lust & desire. Your cunt quivers in pleasure. He’s never pleasured you like this before. You need more & you dig your hands in his shoulder & he jolts.

“Fuck max oh fuck fuck fuck yes oh fuck yes” you sink your own teeth into his shoulders. He’s taking you on a night you’ve never experienced before & you let go & scream his name. “MAX!” You clamp hard & cum. His own body judders as he feels you lick him in. He’s never had you sink your teeth into him before & the way you whined, has his mind spinning out of control. It may not be your fangs but it felt good.

“Baby fuck baby oh shit shit fuckkkkk” having vampiric speed is useful. Your clit is on fire from the friction & the way the thrusts into you as your orgasm continues is relentless. & soon it’s his turn & you feel the ejaculation inside you. “Fuck this pussy” hit lashings of cum fill your insides. Max snarls, his eyes at the point of pleasure always turn dark red. Yours don’t but it always makes you smile that he gets that much into the zone.

“Fuck Max”

“Fuck in deed” he pants. You’re both resting your head on the other shoulders, your movements minimal. You peck up his neck until you reach his face & you use two fingers to turn his face towards you. The sweaty state that is your forever slowly opens his eyes to look at you, his vampire bride looking so sexy covered in sweat, filled with him cum. You’re all his, no one can match you. You’re bound together by destiny.

Eventually you properly speak, the rocking has stoped & Max slowly slips his penis out of you as it softens but you don’t want to move. You like sitting in his lap naked. Taking your time to kiss each part of his face.

“So 5 years of knowing you” you giggle.

“Yep” he smiles “& I brought the mistletoe too” you look at the floor & so does Max. The broken mug with the blood spilled on the floor, the white berry’s of the plant now turning crimson.

“That you did baby” & you face to turn him again. “So what would you like to do for our 5th anniversary?”

“You, I want to fuck you all evening, until the sun rises”

“Hmmmm” you smirk as you think “but I’ve not come wrapped up”

“Don’t care” Maxs strength still impresses you. He lifts you off his lap so you’re lying on your back on the bed & he hoovers above you hardening again. “I’ve provided the mistletoe” he lifts his head so he whispers the next sentence into your ear seductively. “& you are more than providing the whine”

“Fuuuucckkkkk Maxie” you moan & gasp as his large hand goes around your throat & he slowly pushes his penis in side you again. Still sensitive from your session that just ended. “What did I do to deserve this” you ask & look up at his beaming satisfied face.

“Nothing,” he hits the spot first time & you moan. “Can I not treat my forever on our day” & that’s all it takes. You never have to worry about Maxs desire & lust for you. The night of your 5th anniversary is rampant & the whines you make as he makes you cum all night, well they will stay with Max until next years anniversary.

[gunshaverrr]

I slowly awake to see Xandia working her magic on my leg where my tibia was shattered when a war axe-wielding bandit successfully flanked our party. Being a ranger, I was tasked with staying back and defending our little healer, and the last thing I remember before blacking out from the searing pain shooting from my calf was seeing Xandia come to my rescue through black-clouded vision. Xandia is a 3-and-a-half foot tall Geckoid clad in off-white robes with red detailing and gold-fiber trim. They’re an unassuming little thing, with a cheery disposition and a penchant for little critters (if my memory serves, I recall them saying they grew up on a frog egg farm in the swamp-marshes of Tihulia). Only, now those off-white robes are more crimson than cream. They finish bandaging my wound with a big smile and implore me to rest before moving on to another member of the party, and I am left wondering how this cute little thing saved me from a hulking bandit as wide as they are tall.

Sir Gregory Littel, the head of our merry band and a veritable brick shithouse of a man, passes me and I call out to him, "Hey, Gregory!"

"Ah, miss Jenevieve, it is good to see you awake! Xandia told us you took a nasty blow to your leg. You had us worried for a moment," he says, and despite the sling around his right arm his tone is as jovial as ever. For being so large and imposing, Gregory Heath is a surprisingly kind and genteel man.

"Yeah, that bandit got the jump on me. Guess my senses aren't as good as they should be, huh. Sorry to disappoint," I say, and I mean it. My first battle with this crew and I make a mistake that nearly kills me and our healer.

He must sense my rising panic because he holds his hands in front of him in a pacifying gesture. "Nothing to apologize for, miss Jenevieve. Everyone makes mistakes in the heat of battle. I am just glad to see you better."

"But I put myself in danger," I say, trying to hide the quiver in my voice as tears begin to fill my eyes regardless "And worse, I was supposed to protect Xandia but my screw-up almost got them killed." At that, Gregory lets out a laugh that comes from so deep in his belly you'd think I just told him the funniest joke ever told. My guilt and remorse quickly fade into confusion, and all I can do is stare at Gregory until he’s finished guffawing. “Oh, ho ho, I do not think we need to worry about them, my friend,” he says. “Xandia can handle themselves.” After a pause, I respond “could elaborate on that…” while making a ‘go on’ gesture with my hand.

Gregory’s laughter dies down and I swear his face blanches a bit. He looks around the camp and, after seeing Xandia on the other side of the tents working their magic on our other mage, he settles onto the ground next to me, one leg bent up for his busted arm to rest on. “I know you are new to our little group,” he starts, “but I would like to keep you around so suppose you have a right to know. Xandia is easily the most powerful member of our team. Quite frankly, they might be one of the strongest mages I have seen outside of a court.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “That little thing,” I ask, my incredulity no doubt written all over my face. “Okay, that’s a good joke. But seriously, what-”

All humor drains from my face when I look up and see Gregory’s serious expression, his face stone-set in intensity, his eyes locked with mine. “This is no laughing matter, Jenevieve,” he says, before turning his gaze down to the ground. “Every day I am grateful to count dear Xandia as a friend rather than an enemy.” An impregnable silence forms between us, lasting for an eternity before I can finally muster up the will to speak.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Gregory’s gaze focuses on the campfire in front of us. “Long ago, when you were no doubt still a young lass learning how to whittle arrowheads, I was the captain of a company of soldiers in the Sandian military. We were one of the best in our division, owed in no small part to the undying loyalty between my men and I. They were some of my closest compatriots, many of us cutting our teeth in guardsman training together as youths. I knew each and every one by name: their hobbies, their favorite campfire stories, where they grew up. We were thick as thieves, or so I thought. A few years ago, some of my closest men and I were camped north of Kasi, a little hamlet just outside of Balalan territory. We were a forward party, sent ahead of the company. The plan was to meet with the Diwan of the bordering Balalan region to negotiate a trade route; only, my men had a different idea.

“The night we arrived, we drank to the negotiations, saying a prayer for success. The next morning, I awoke in chains in the dungeon of the stronghold in Cheshapa, the seat of the Diwan. As I learned after the fact, my men⏤my closest brothers⏤sold me out. 30 years of service together; 30 years of loyalty; 30 years of blood, sweat, and tears shed with and for these men, apparently all meant nothing in comparison to a few acres of Balalan farmland.” I can see the anger and resentment wash over Gregory’s expression. But beneath that, deeper down, I sense a profound sadness to his words. I reach out and gently rest my hand on his, and I give him an understanding look that tells him to take his time. I know how it feels to be betrayed: the shame it makes you feel, the ache in your heart, the amount of damage it can do to your ability to trust. It speaks volumes that he is comfortable enough with me to tell me this story. After taking a moment to settle himself he continues.

“Fortunately, it was by divine providence that Xandia was in Cheshapa that day. Or maybe it was only dumb luck…” I squeeze his hand. I also understand what it feels like to have a crisis of faith. You and I are more alike than I thought, big guy, I think to myself. “Either way,” he continues, “as Xandia tells it, they happened to come across some of my men spending big in the local gambling house. Being an adventurer at heart, they could sense something was amok. It is not typical to see soldiers with as large of fortunes as they were waving around. Xandia never told me how they got the information out of my men, but after witnessing their rescue of me, I never had to ask.

“By now, I’m sure you’ve noticed how accomplished a healer our Geckoid is,” Gregory says, glancing up from the fire and over the camp towards Xandia. “On top of being a good all-purpose healer, Xandia is a skilled volantus ossium Adept.”

“Shit,” I say, the weight of what he is saying hitting me like a runaway bull, “they’re a bone mage. Aren’t those, like, super rare,” I ask, and Gregory nods silently.

As if they can sense us talking about them, Xandia looks over at us and gives us their trademark wide smile and an exaggerated wave. Gregory gives an equally enthusiastic smile and a wave, while mine are much more timid in my attempt to reconcile this newfound information about our healer with my previous view of them. Turning back to Gregory, I ask, “so, what happened next?”

His gaze drops back to the fire and his expression returns to something more neutral, though I can feel a distinct sense of awe in his words. “As I sat chained to the floor, wallowing in my own self-pity, I was stirred out of my stupor by screams in the hallway outside. The four guards posted outside of my cell readied their weapons, but they never stood a chance. The door to the chamber was reinforced from the inside, and still it broke with ease as a wave of skeletal bodies burst forth, collapsing on one of the guards. Another guard was killed instantly when his own bones were formed into spikes protruding from every inch of his body. I barely had time to notice the small figure in the doorway before the remaining two guards leveled their spears at the approaching mass of skeletons. One of them was thrown off when the bones of previous prisoners that littered the floor melted and formed an undulating mass at his feet, solidifying and locking him to the ground. Two of the skeletons grabbed his arms and pulled him down, while the rest⏤scarred and missing bones from the battle outside⏤began cannibalizing him for scraps. The final guard had a look of resignation on his face, but it was too late, as his body had already begun folding in on itself. For what felt like an eternity the room was filled with the sharp sound of cracking bone, the wet shlop of chunks of meat being tossed about by the skeletons, and the gargled screams of the final two guards before everything eventually went silent.

“There I sat chained to the floor, barely beginning to comprehend what had just occurred through the blood and viscera now caking the walls, when the small figure began approaching me. I was sure I was next and, rather than beg for my life, I pleaded with the figure for a swift and merciful death.” A small smile graced Gregory’s lips. “You’ll imagine my surprise when this unassuming little Geckoid, covered from head to toe in blood and guts, pipes up with the sweetest voice and said [and here Gregory sits up straight and does his best impersonation of Xandia’s swamp-marsh belle accent] ‘Oh, bless your sweet little heart, I ain’t here to hurt ya! Now let’s skedaddle.’”

By the way Gregory looks at me and starts laughing, I can tell my jaw is on the floor. “After we made it out of Cheshapa, we returned to my company. We told them of the betrayal and the company set off for Nancontenay to inform the Council of what happened. Xandia accompanied us, claiming they had business in the capital, but I think they could sense my internal struggle and wanted to be there for me. I appreciated their presence greatly. After I met with the Council, I tendered my resignation from the service. Despite my best efforts, I could not bring myself to trust my men anymore, and a good captain cannot command his men on a foundation of fear.”

He clasps my shoulder with his good hand and looks me in the eyes.

“I understand why you think I would be disappointed in you, Jenevieve, but I assure you I am not. You made a simple mistake, it happens to all of us.” He moves to stand up. “But you are wrong about one thing. We didn’t put you in the back of the party to protect Xandia. We put you there so Xandia could protect you.”

I watch Gregory as he walks away and is intercepted by Xandia. The two share some pleasant words that I can’t hear before embracing, and I find myself agreeing with Gregory; I am damn glad Xandia is on our side.

The rest of your party is always making sure that you, the healer, stay in the back. Not because they don’t want you to get hurt, but because they all still remember the last time you took the front line and nobody wants a repeat of that.

[libidomechanica]

His name a perfume

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

Of their birth and love. Sir knight the bodies   and thy mourne, but see her arms, wi’ mony   a sight and days and waters to advise of clocks and cancelled for so many things left desert all around three younger and   is now and one Nightingale, rapt in her   gown to keep me alive. And glory as his wife as Willie’s wife affection to scare the old oak tree! My own, my sweet bird’s   trouble with you want’st the light of beauty   for maidenhead; yet to my blood, and withereth too. There was a bonie lass he lo’ed her home: the bad corruption unto my   heart o’ the most steady, and purple   Cullambine, its dew-drop o’ diamond her sect, are the elect; and I myself, not them.

               2

—Save here will sing to faint dying bed—that   Maud’s dark father’s views, that Angers selfe to   other five talents other here? Thing but taxation; but that white hair of face, and jewel hangs freely gathering up the heart.   From the Deluge. Yet love me not as bright   brown has worn bosom of thee, as souls unbodied, bodies cannot such a dark desert planted found suffice that part of losing   yourself will crush her power, and your   wonted foode, hey ho chapel.—No sight diffused the grass, beside, and cats, and tricks her hair. Kind; why let in all his love’s first, a   gentle daughter Briar Rose grew hard: with   ease his clumsy jackets. And never miss home-talk and shook Belshazzar in his Head.

               3

And by his counsels to ring; till from   Borodale. But if that my soule, I deeme   ech haue oftentimes beene to me was proxy- wedded with a Bacchant air, present pay? Tristan und Isolde is scarcely woman,   of whom she raised them bring how we three   poor heretics in lovely sound of innocent desires, after deathmasks into a bowle of counsel to their name,   and if I read aright, breaking sun of   the times, the inward joy. So close on me. Thing like a mummy, and drinks he grows a habit she came, and abused, the plane is   making thee life; reserved. Some play, while I   run repent me of ours which the heate so great matter; I have sun-vows and her last.

               4

And though his defence from God: nor left us   by inherit, of blessed key can bring   a land or water for on the glass. With golden beauty clear fond voice, his verse best guards of the king; help, and stretched plight: a mazer   ywrought me to her spell awakens   they all lay in another of ioyes, the ground without: ne let them eeke bring in my sleep in twixt vows and call out: Daddy! Why,   there’s the nears, surprise, what ails then may   take the breeches. The merry pranks before have walk’d awake unto the faces that doth behoue, and drop a question, when she doth   hinder your content, misdoubting much, is   not make it weare his wife abhors the virgins learned sister-plaintiff lose the doome.

               5

Though use make and signified less absolute   steals shadowy mood; I was abandoned   skins. Delight, who not look of dull and songs and night, want wit to cease, stop you my ravished predecessors in the night   has twa the very best to reveal. From   the lady and her white than I. But Virtue there and she left Tithones bed, and having such as bid my heart wouldn’t be pleased   to show the motion; now tis she. But now   shine and paine. Run, and dwarfs and with such grace yours.—For some Zephyr caught in Cloth of Gold, dangle her and aye, by shine out, alack!   Pattern still the shore—gold cups of filigree   made of rings. And if ever I should Fate sic pleasures, and go talking of pee.

               6

And vertues store, she not only give account   of Light! The virgins the man was brought—   a Boy—Who, when from window now, that the fourth place by night, and greater king the skin relieve: which is a geranium. As   maids were zombie-like, zombies. I ween, she   hath drunken be withal she rather quickly arrayed her maidens of her glories she, adornd with aversion. Doomed to master   of my tongue, waking bloudie paine. Thus, in   a bleakness of satin and out of seldom coming grief, which our heart, and she a weeping. Those throne and their ease to set in   trifle more than Heaven then I am   gone away, her face a-washin; but promiscuous lips we might increase, so long.

               7

Beat with inward beautyes grace, well know me.   How little skill. From me now. Then fair   Geraldine espies, and ever-changing you nothing nation found, or rich or poor; they straight convey the color and thy orphan   sense flies to the eyes gan glittering flare   underneath the voice and abused the crone was o’er, then, they are dead! Unable to suitors’ kisses rain on my life endure   one which no offence. Together; and the   pretie Pawnce, and my doom, and a mulberry and as true hypocrites, admire: we, who met the fisherman swore they shrunken in   that mine host to counted our good shoes in   violet eyes were will storm, or strong necessity. The gaudy house. Lest aught they be?

               8

Spain, he’d make ourselves apart. Have powers   which happy day go in and deck the sweet   suburban girls, there, would win my love, to whom The Wise Self-subjects only this. Let to hear my sisters and can’t be pleasure   in the rose, could survey the first plight. Let   thy love no whit lesse of my care, and, reverence made about thee a heaven grac’t, ah! And every thing vncomely woman’s   hand, till sing, from the Crowning Form, except   in the sacred ceremonies the flowery meads the petal starts to dwindle and singen soote, in such white neck to venture   the like, t is that heare all that’s happening   her women use are like him to infancy beguiled, from the thornless glory.

               9

In the historian’s style than a manner   which I envy, that in the Dey of   Tripoli. Seasons of female parliament; and the shadows and the lady Christabel stretching sin. Now, as all its ropes   of rodents, the Choristers say bulldaggers,   queers, funny come seed is sown, if I had died, the dairy now with mingled power, and vesper makes blind men in the other   was some several odds and keep her   eyes, Forst by Nature write you will break on mountain smoking with pins; roger so near the other way, I fear that makes her in   his own despite: and her voice lifts the jetty   stain where the only have to rank in chronological commemoration.

               10

Nor needed by both day and as early   pulls the devils might see what is he whose   Head the breath and feels its life is growing what rites so well as not humble, but they one looked in a time,—a taste what scent of   my sore: loue is a babe; then she died the   harder for the Cupid found a vent; arrived with half-hidden roses; or the mother’s door and the silent be. Not her virtue,   thou shin’st, as the seasoned rocks on the   beames did fall, and garden, to her seldom save from yours as that some weight, propped an ancient honour and trust in them who are   due to innocent, so in this the grass   and grief without a stay. Of Musickes wondrous excellent, yet knew the new way.

               11

’ Islands of the bride; Alas! Each other   side of fire. Silt and cost, tis like this, and   all the wood, and theyr eccho ring. And a tone with a dazzling rain that each party draws to country-girl betwixt king Arthur’s   court he should send a hundred coupled in   the Westerne fome: the presence. Your face so fair; in grace affright! Grecian girl, for aught shone: the sudden sad afray: lyke as when   she laid within whose is blown to her vsury   of love as I heard not thy spleen, communicate; the sudden a pair of Rome turned to us, and so mild as an improve:   the night, when longest iudgement of   losing far away, gone far away. Content you? Five rusty hinges here: ’ but No!

               12

A carefully to force of right: she was   all the night, hey ho Bonibell, tripping   sweethearts and watches him—then Roger ties by linkes of this, when I spake worms thine and pikes which our roundelay. Or some season,   renegado rigour, are the Sharp-   witted Sage had heard all night Rauen that belong to beasts which did not to shake the perfumes of grass, and their wisdom is in   its full of them so hands like a long family;   look on Marathon—and the past, to teach true blood shoulder quite literally is not ground; then will love no whit disdaineth;   suns of them my passions were woods in vain   he sighs, and came a sudden sad afray: lyke as when in her breast could now returns.

               13

And pretty to force the cause of myself,   my bride went forth, since then we walk the sweete   tunes do worke my greater multitudes she kneels beneath the rock, and smiles: but, for thy sake them on the daye in woe I vowed this   the best for use. Mother of pearls as largely   give a bust of day: this moment’s space, struck a wound them both, or wife, but sown so thin, that he sees my lady in the   liberty is lever. When men were, merely   play they kindly leave us being new comers at the lady stood avenged: her hand, so light of Delight, nay more of brown   has worn my Brow, and Years not Twenty—from   the August midafternoon, the ground what other comes a bleeding at the silent.

               14

The art of men; but made it of windows?   Hath led fair Geneura, with as fire accords   to a Midwife, shew the hardened lava. Goldenrod glowing cup, a rose full sweetly did me afright; but in your turn   away a momentary gloom of foreign   churchyard licks us. Entirely going off a shawl of black eyes were a pale blue. They bene all Ladyes of father   drunkeningly bends over me, my   heart, my ownest own, farewell! Now, as the first’s but a screen—yet for hate, I feel with them by date and by his seeming independent   being my fingernails are things   in proportions of the touch’d his queen lily and flush themselves that you think the year.

               15

For my embalming, Julia, weep, for I   heard, she nothing better likeness, Cloe. She   is more to advance; for, soone wexen wider. And I will not married you for all the dresses from no Mother Milk he drew:   he who must be down with that I can   companion, mystery and more than she; each under the spoke The Shah of Yúnan, as his shadows of the peril of my Life!   When for some benighted him even those   lands, and fiddling, marriage, that she said; her orange ribbon in her groome: or as the first, the foe, whose that with it, Follow, thought   she said, How long and that, he victuall’d and   expire; so was her side, when I am formulated phrases and chastity.

               16

Or, louing brother’s and meats of the way, so   this couple tied: restless love, and woes, that   the King of antipathy, as t were, and with fury tell, to drink a draught of love and heavy bell, five and order keeping   farther, I must needs must have; but for   their loyal treason, renegado rigour, are gone, and there, that they are the one that in her but I?—If one, settling a   pillowes, sweet early grain as much unkind;   what full low, thoughts I speakes and how can you do not merit me Your name a person, possible, ’ said he: nor am I   bound us by thy own daughter, holp to   lace us up, till, each, while shadow while with secret of the chest where all equal.

               17

A plump-armed Ostleress and a sun, and   a long trail of loue, awake with wrath: he   stars that distant torrent which show’d; from her way: and thou Hymen Hymen free, grant the fuel perish’d in art, must, surer bound, bade   him down upon the grass, a purer   sapphire portal, and there be a copy near your eccho ring. But Dante’s most essential to their smart, but promise, during   lifted into the birthday she prayer!   Whispers breeding of Faith Sulayman and wrote, too awful, and thou my lips a noble father’s window at breake gentle sleeping.   Alas, I have seen many change us,   neighbouring our heart, too deare captainesse with tears, I am crying: Daddy!

               18

With choral step after the flame humor   and full well, and geniall bed remained. Still   o’er his Heart bled from high, it covers but not know that I called it for a slave. Unable to pray: so sure to bind thou have   listening head, she pricketh aye so softly   in the midriff of desire. Hey ho seely she suppliant to glide into a frown,&taunt white and blear-eyed Willye, when my brow;   but out, unless than from his own knowledge,   so my daughter—had not our husbands from me in a big house upon me taks pity, i’ll do my best intents, divert strong   and stranger. By this my love, as you turn   away a moments white bitch in her heart And must thy spirit of old did not bite.

               19

Yet poortith cauld, and late! French stuffs, lace, tweezers,   toothpicks, teapot, tray, tapping the chair,   did thus in his odor. Or is it in her heart from off its throat, its ears of straws, ever lost the sky, are like you, that past   in shade, under and such lowly twins emerged.   And they are that should, that fix you into my loue doth grow: now off with thy side. Fill high to fall; of love’s first-fruits.—And   thereunto doe daunce euen? Would ye wonder then   is gall, to him be their virtue known the abyss like the foreign lands conveyed. A key … Even the spot where all night is child,   his only consolation to the quest   is; how you smil’st, fair starves amidst the swain returning several animal.

               20

To heare. And made my Maud and tallest her   head, each a catatonic stuck in this   conditions much too fair to be friends who say you go thro’ the isle. Than an Ant’s eye; and life in heauen. Some chastity, vnspotted   face them in statlier glorious black eyes,   nor health and still, plucking her thick with undaunted seven-shilling run, that those trouts and doing in domestic doings which   the fruit of Kings, ispahan Apples,   Pomegranates, the fair ordained, but chafing me there is none like them one, a tyrants in your eyes bestow it; till War’s loud   wil sing, this night’s sky admire; warm-lighted   him to complete; the churchyard cottage, I dwell near the playne field: sore again where wild.

               21

The bright, is it now? Her fingers hold thing   on a pivot, he might and bright, thou fill   that ensues, and let the fragrant gloom pass’d a way! Griped all we find a fortune’s shining bright or wrong; and nothing new-found the   rest—turning lord. And when my judgment knew   weeping jellyfish. Not thus you safe and reconciled into each other’s and hate, I feel this time, the lovers know. I sweare   me to her Foot that that blessed be my love.   And if they their glad parents taught me to the slight, too deare for they were vanished out on the name they played the same! And Christabel   her feet, tore the bier, which dost those we   love doth work like a thing in October, the tent of you are holding mynd is set.

               22

It’s such a season’d his Narcissus Eyes—   the Muse, if poverty were terms for peace,   insults with delight. On a charmes, ne let thy mother, save the Northern star. When one of youthful Lord of my life: choose you   were in a new Thermopylae! The very   colour’d garbs, as brittle as a Sword, a Cloud of Arrows on the highlight persons down winding breed of euerie image which you   want to glittering voyce obtaine sweete aire   which Boccaccio’s lore and gentleman of straw; had you believe me, my love no whit lesse of depart echeone her disaray,   and yet more friendly breast. Soft—music ceases—   I recall the vision; I might own. That all the first. In lovely lady died!

               23

And the lime and passively did me afright;   but both are spiders, one by chanced   that you have been my heart of losing, while on the true nobility from the Hunting- ground sown with entention—there his poor,   and laugh atweene the woods now about the   occasions—which will burrow in arms and land: through my opinion as heretofore: he who could be thy chief justice of one,   settling a pillow or three poor heretics   in love; flesh so true as any needles on the Southey every line and tender, taught him in crystal seek, but forst by   Nature laies. You run about, my wife, but   gie me my love himself more endears, we fell on the express his long attended.

               24

Sweet loue doth please to dub the ladies of   touch, as if’t ad been the heard the labours   to dine. He fiercely gave me the scale the prey, light bubbling bird the telluric light. But in what I may have admired;—ave   Maria! Or gemmes or filled with   strict injunction never tongue into a tomb, and ever, mine. Black lot holds. Take me to the flowre Delice. Thus dancing to San   Sebastian partly because it is clomb   on higher than a philosophers have but you into my hour; ever any Day that Hank Aaron’s room, as still! And I   have known the embrace them see some repair   shoulder, with Haidee’s hair in t surmounted our troth? Which Musick that moaneth bleak?

               25

Lets thee to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee.   If this, and the key. The only signs of   progress? Until he castle. And in low faltering and shadow dances as the fires blaze. And the allowed, the dances are   waiting, clean as cleare as the people he   had a large black and Tom are paired with souls can penetrate: fixed to her, none. Yes, call me no more worthy to live. With green birds   and endeavouring to the other pity   me, who thought, produced, and learned well, helpe quickly arrayed her maiden queen, gambolled on the terrain around. Are some   repair should grow light-headed, I fear, lest   aught us to our low world, where she came— and little birds all those who play unfair!

               26

Of all the bundles, making bird, extinct   color is invisible go see, ride   ten thousand doors open; I fill with glaunceth from the eye. Then, Julia, breath of this. Meet and is no lack of such a vision   in the country, till God release, love, give   me more than I can make her golden wyre, sprinckled with loue yblent: great progeny, send vs the time prefixed to helpe   to decke her graves are finish’d thus, by   consequence, was best, with Haidee’s cheek—there would free, at last. Was never make her groome prepared to scorn, good sureties will say: I   am Lazarus, come try me. This report   especial blest, and wonder and being my finger, thou, with words Sir Leoline.

               27

The Miller. With sulphur blended, just as   it was cleft pomegranates of Yazd;   and, could this silence prayeth she, the Robe of why we came where the little penance. That all that when some few years old sucking the   show’d the jaggèd shadow of a dream of dewy-   tasselled half to their sustenance due to every kind of children, ran before the shadowy mood; I was aware   that at the flying thee life; reserved to   government has decided they brings us to veil the marks of the woods that hardly Death a continually, about the   bright of his name up, and scanty to her   lover stole from court to scour his tongue of lids to communion table where greatness.

               28

His doole thou mayst prove its grand ingredient   is well apart in gastful groue   therein, yet while they slept in a gentle hands were still as a bar of iron is awful might in view, behold your rudenesse   doe ye awake out of thy loving,   the woods now about the cold hill side.—He could be, and the throne, and Pride, when her lover, proudly say I only used fifty-   nine today: but sorrow may sustain and   in our cloudy film surrounding the grey- haired friar tell how on her small his Chamber— nay, that’s impossible leaves behind,   and thick with golden grain; by all thy glory   crowne with mortal eyes caught into clamor with theirs of old did not be afraid.

               29

And love were changes for this my love. She   answer, nor the thought run wild while wanton   is, school’d onely by depart echeone her jelick’s fellows, o dool on the houres which, when ye lyst, ye iolly shepeheards   delight takes in the Name of her grave,   and carroll sing, that thou of love pursue her tongues. Nor the question, which the eyes too lively leave all for Nothing else saw she   therefore the least the radio beating   for the moss, and by his course but of a quiet ashes of this, when she did sting. Wait Mister. General he surprised men will   comers at th’ shepheard swayne, to adorne   her beauty, how frank, how can you webs your looking on the square. In princely plight.

               30

And her eyes shine, ennobling new-found   Paradise, breathe, the tears you’re weeping far away,   and thine? What makes another measures of the gasping for thy self: cast an amorous, as to a vice: had she would rather   hand as a bittour bumps with heavy   heart o’ the regions run, thick as the same; myrtle they play, and ye likewise which doe theyr fresh garments the blood spilt had in it   at all around like a shotgun. In blind   my eyes like a lord, one after hid him as an idol show, since I sang of mine rebuked me angrily: What is fixed subject   servant’s form he lived alone, which from   others? What no man mann’d, my Mine of virtues we reap in joy that with iollity.

               31

Flows one nut-brown ale, the while those, like callow   birds were brought: so you may; take me a   chanson; in England a six canto quarto, by the type of generate into a strange Tryanic power to tell! And look!   The calendar forward. That falls he rises   not yet; but that I had energy; you had been Petrarch’s vices from Thames his gift; creating her wouldn’t be yourself and   Him above their ease to sing: the worse prevail,   a storm of kisses poured out of you, whose fire scorch’d my hearts the blossomed Muses’ love of me, that still the name was she did   breede. Made an atmosphere lamps blazoned   like the news; the holy prelate prayed the limb, low above the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?

               32

Entrance give that here demand; here take that   in my hand; and solemn herald shall weepe,   and she’d never bleach. Since haue me peacefull rymes, that come ye fayre, ascending shine with button for her! I do love you   by some sorcerer, whom a far-off grandsire   or a great wall of sunset and kind, and nocht could touch and yet then shall wear white and renews us, will work had been ordained   was, to chose his part my half-self, for   so many gazers, as on her, as thy present, and half in doze I see their glad parents taught him in the birds, that are breath   for hire of perfect harmony: but when   she virtue we could rest unknown, the least parts, with the bright convey the country back?

               33

Oh turn to go yet turning lord. The mail,   drinking of creature heavenly fair, and   brief; with discontent is ennui. A boxwood shutter encloses our finger on a chariot and comforted fair   in t surmounted our children and wriggled   further question … oh, do not tear blin’s her husband. Without any danger heere marched on the arms and latent in his artless   dead branches o’erflowing; and I, in   my chamber of the love God, as author of our union, will find, each rope distinctions are filled by dead eyes did ofte augment,   three sinful then, they daucen deffly, and   inly prayed that you must have lifted her face easy to under the sun your cheeks.

               34

And where the jolly troop of all the sex   more, and hands were so stunn’d and strok’d the cypress   the wits of former children under guardian spirit world except only multiplied it more. And daughter Briar   Rose was an idol show, since my heart. Thee   grant my just required to name the great gold like a pedant’s wand to last—of all the poor drudge to be, to seek it; this my life   unto an enslaver. Which with right you   than any since left in me the table set and a fear thee! Way, and we will I attempt to know my love, ye wrack my peace   within the arbour, they not Bay braunches,   which the palace far; thus the jetty stain, and the o’er the sea backward from my Head!

               35

And why a boy can’t interpreting; sun   and singular She is laughing Nature   writings on the fatigue is flowing, and sings bent, i’ll hide true that fitted for she is in his bosom and lass, how frail our   best of fate appears a fact. House, since ready   to her offer, and vesper makes dayly mone, warning to and from thing to tell the dead branches hast taught one to see the   Deluge. And in my youth, and stars that all   and laws to long day, the firelight to undo the Maple warre: wherein he all our banquet with ioyance bringst with caroches,   all were her fruitful pains! Teaching me the   year in which was none, is loosely—like an arrow for Blind man’s Buff the manna fall.

               36

For but that title springs friend, that pours   out. I saw thy fame to pass the night. What   they meane by it; and daughter of mine own beneath you that all things with heavens theyr eccho ring. Take me to the stars are, or,   which it adorn’d its only child! And with   such as the throne: see not, fray vs with the worlds to come. Must, surer bound, and shew thy selfe doth shine, and when you and I, o   we fell with good companion, mystery   and gladly our spirit in a gleaming fearful sign of heau’ns inside her turns him round me here on the distant leper. Of   the hunger-starved, they do weare? And says he   is coming, my ownest own, will lingered upon the hall, doth much it know of death?

               37

Their virtues we recite, tis like the darkest   house were in front in a curbside pool.   Now, Kitty, now! Life’s dearest bands untwining? Better Women, who would thilke lasse not from her she lover’s sin: I am sure   I am, and he hirples the bottom   of you, by all the window at breakfast, sat by the most of thy greatness flickering for a ball; the terrible bellow   the glow of your rudenesse doe ye writes.—   What sight so long. Watch out for thee with heavens you had been first, and wits; the occasion but exerted that Lambro’s reception.   Mine eyes from rage and sighed deep, and laugh’d   her face looks familiar. A lonely as a tunnel. Graceful fold, the molecules.

               38

See how shall disturb her princes too, pale   warre: and so long that once annoy the same:   sweet, and nothing doth frame, take me anywhere it feels soft bring him to infancy was ruthlessly seized me yesterday was   you turn her Eye. Some fine pacing on the   other sex, the bread as often abroad, and took her as he rode, not a breach by fighting well, Leave battles to the knight, and   lay down thy chief justice of their strange   similes enrich each line back down Splendours the fault confessed the marmalade, the started on me while; moments when as an e’e,   she withdrew her Milk, she make a ballad   or romance on the public stare: but told it under matrimonial victorye?

               39

’ I ween, she there above it, mediating   betwixt the skies! So fortified with   verse best of her reflection which her will and sweeps away fled every male in thrall! For shall be sayde that which at my father’s   view—as far as such, they stood within us   within us within us within us within the hole in it I brought of a line exacts that I so kindly   face of silk inlaid table to pray   for truth doth fall? When he plight me your plate; time for a while he stars that loue does ly in proud as he can a young lord-lover,   what is the best. But the same heart to my   tale. Your gown going slight short as farre out of prison! That pair became her, that there?

               40

And the your glass will stand near the weal of   her dear lord’s joy and greene is foreign churches—   I see her philters wit. Crying aloud with her speake doth bare, let all that cup hast taught here. We feel with Stellas eyes I’d   known, and the way, boded no good, what   shouldst stay! I lose expressing on the distant chastity, vnspotted infamy! With a long loving, to where fair, but all the   hour! Spread smile from the true he had address’d   his question, to saue the ouerthrowe. Grant, if thou wouldst brabbling run, there is possibility from the barley Miller was a   time,—a terrier, too, and feel myself,   my bride went forth sweet and sky, the beames display: she, so dispense her can compare?

               41

For as he dispose, if poverty my   Muse bring to make you depart, the woods them   and my return may quarrel, and courteously to quenche thye thirst is flowing, and but one I know not why, and daughter is sometimes   refigured their glint of shame; my   eyes too tender an Alien Shah with Magic-mighty titles tied, did not knowing metaphysics, had bribed him to heaven’s   Horizon, it were crucified. ’Re   weeping far away. And in this room, as still such, I weep like all come without your hairs, but these harms, that still ye virgins do,   That prayed: then what got into my heart that   pricked her thoughts in haste; your laugh atweene the Ring of Faith Sulayman spoke—Though the world.

               42

—A sight was matched at thy nail in the heaving   breeze enough to twirl the only this:   they have told. That to say, by my soule, sure heire of life confined, one this Saynt with the dooryards and water. Earthly cates to mend,   to make him to heap huge treason, and he,   he reverenced his chiefest Nymph of al, of Oliue braunches, which no offence. Sicker make her immortal light cloth’d must thy   placed wild flower on the teaspoon to the   wet wings and Loue, while juice, yellow and passionate cry from a Jewell’d Cup drinking with people look was heart never feel my   muscles go weak with us, a we-see   poem, a they-love poem. Upon a tree breath may give more loftly said, Alas!

               43

In an effort to farmers rich, when so   ye come try me! Her lips and endeavour.   While I am turned the stars; and in hidden from window at breake you Virgins, may shee florish long, and for himself and mild   modesty so crowned, the different hue, and   set ten poets gave them wedded some other, there is of bliss. The tame floor, here be a copy near the sights thy soule was so   like a delta with a slow flapping water   was gone for me. Stout chivalry will help Go and cold to the ingle sits, an’ wi’ her can command; like wax it yielded   to her power to bid thee true. One day   by day; a year in white. To sell her watery journey to salute there did sting.

               44

And be all those whose Augury triumphant   prize. And by oath the people do, except   this city feel my father turn in him planted unless it is esteemes of Musicke can infuse or wit, her voice   slow they never heart at dances are my   hart since ready forth with all his hands the bound by countless breasts and walked, and song above his cheek—there he had more affection   too were bare biography; a drowsy   sacristan still can be seene her beautiful dreamer, out of seldom fails to withstand. And vast estate; a kind of child is   this her father’s view—as far as such a   cittadell, so fortified with handsome and queen: my liege, ’ said she undress, and sent.

               45

For when I look up, to drop of ink, falling   on silver light of Beres and I got   switched at the sea breathes of that shuddered, and stood bathing in a roundle neuer think of promises draw near. There was no dreamful   wastes where she spokes of love paternal   Footman hold my coat, my collar mountain. Her tongues. He heart’s purest greatness flicker, and not a moment, new; you well. While she   said, when crowds, in Nature graunt them to deuoure,   with lasting down. A heavy eyelids, as thou art so unprovident. Saying head, and we were so sore? Hey ho pinching payne   doth lie, viewing the rock she make clouds around,   my cheek so wan and the noiseless she practised as a bar of iron.

               46

Dreaming river’s crescent-curve, close on through   they loved the Master’s train: her Lord him with   my heart them see so waist, and weep away the worthy praise on the seas changed you said something every nations; to do at Rome,   I find salue for my beloved daughters   of delight. Or to keep me constant leper. Diverted by the base affection at his few peaceful fold, the peril of   my love, has tried, to glance up in some skill   his hands, draws back the rest, nor needed by a young tree with delight. And young husbands’ absence! Reserved his life. I sawe Phoebus   peeps over the sun’s noonsted’s made for lay-   men, are we could desire; how many thing vncomely Youth before the corner.

               47

Yet hath close the house; he heart now she’s home.   Cherry plums suck a wound in her children   and Earth with Magic-mighty reason; my soul! So how shall part of the king my sack of groceries, are a king: three parts completely   puzzled,—what! Heaving my sack of groceries,   I dash for that gain the first Romans chose: Fabricius from the thin scream of mosquitoes ascends, now hope, now charity   was not to see how each other, long attend   your eyes we ply the silent still thy destined to belong to wandering mother’s door. Ah, Chloris mair than ever for   the sun, resort to farmers rich, and his   obscene desire is of earth. Then like to pray: so sure the stars are not married.

               48

Hath been burned; in equal she made, as by   a spring with his despair with as fire   according to distant light they should wed, my father’s door and think of their smart, eternal thirst, my dear; till War’s loud her puir   Jenny for siller, and then adieu,—farewell;   go trouble from loving, lawful, and chin their own disgrace. And then tell you I should bursts of revelry expired; the Crown;   a Star under Hyacinth I said to   medle sadde. They pass the night is night’s blue as your hands untwining? And nocht could know when Lucy ceased to ride with a wantonly   when summer’s day; while it did not thyself   were his! The argument of insidious in so thin, that rose of our hair.

               49

Who, distant view. Twenty times run off with   such as all around. Been, and brought a vent   to search, sun, moon, flow’d like a blanket. Her violet eyes were mute among the white and barren was broken the expect the queen:   my liege, ’ said Christabel she lovely-head!   To feel within the walls of perrill and treated like a lady spake—all the birds, thought vnsownd, why blush by day; and the restaurants   with thy sight? Not die; but feared each line, of   her Hair down to us, or by my pet- name! Her fingers. As the wind constancy. Seventeen years passed along, she nurst, that   assault on one’s fated organs let in   day to this table set and friends Soft—music ceases—I recall, like disaster.

               50

But only we, but ashes of the chain—   it may sit, and diapred lyke to a boy,   and yet more sad, more Foole for now, as the Sultan and through the palm, or playful lowers to deck the reader, the side, as   fortune Allah; unto whom he had darkening   lights. And never heart. Each under and truth. Her heart, my other say, that, self-murder added praise; the smooth an easy man,   gave it when my beloved and died to   governed by a private meet? Now day is greete, and my return again, cold, in this that which he came, that roll in yonder back,   a weary weight wi’ a crazy auld man.   Cares, which the twelfth fair aspect and put on Nina Simone singing Here Comes the moor.

               51

Poor heretics in love be loved his heat   and the last wet step before, till I die.   They must lose the world except in the genuine apparition of them is doubled and comely Youth before; and glad, and   could not be, that he shoots with answer his   lot had been, whate’er our grief, posterity? And turning shine with all we find from her untimely moan; have to choose you for   you. Trust that belong to the words of charms   to mark the sounds like the Crown has worn bosom old, again she said, oh Shah, he said, the best, if not why, and knit the bargain   made, and chastens on things for the sun, resort   to farmers rich, when they that be not ask our wishfull vow, and the valley road.

               52

And agèd Shadow grows. A while endless   tears shed its tongue as wind, what winter clothes,   and the Sheikh held up his mutton. Can ne’er wash’d down with oyster-shells: stretch out for games, the bargain made, and dread, and seen; a lonely   kid in a big house with strictly held   by none, the towne, and had told his oath, the royal malady should know the sense and little bit, which the human voices of   the game, why waxed Sir Leoline! Had soil’d the   maiden queen, command himself is goods, to be told that from seeing eye for still she had chain’d his pride, he on the chapel. The   virgins bene, to adorned thorough your   shirt, by your noble then you bloom so free comes Sorrow of pearl and corrupted hour.

               53

Doubt then—i never call back: Hello there!   For that open blots will serve you all there   want of these may know; a goodly wel beseene. Let us go, through the feeble vassals of these? Thought to a Sybarite’s   more so all for sport a-bed; some said or   doomed the matrimonial cooings, but a glitter fitted face that singular She is coming grief indeed there. And thus she   straight, and with the boss of summer lives, in   a poet, is the clematis. Sweet Christabel, So let it be self-loves of my days and shame should Love, as wise Ferdúsi   says, the Ruddock warbles soft, so good should   stop thy Father with haste; which the courtesy to the children shone their world of sin.

               54

Sighs, and he can never seen to last—of   all sorts met the twilight’s blue as your ease;   the widows, Lady Blanche; they fed her face anger inuests with laughter to his imprisoners, dividing thought I went to   issue out, O faire soft tods of wedlock   still the skeleton shall pleased my body keeps, thy king that rubs its breath and feelings that euen thus: in Stella thine, smiling light   cloth’d in thee: this wish was oftentimes beene   to mee: no, no, my Deare, let bee. Should hinder your lily-white robe doth spred, hauing all, his heart would you know, that beauty of his   quivering prayed, thoughts thy sweet maid, Lord Roland   de Vaux of Tryermaine? And thee to meet the Praises be to one, of one delight.

               55

I am far and threaten ither; sic   a wife—too much. About me … envelop   all my woe? Sounds from Alicant, all wild to found the pure Sugar from windowsill.— I never durst communion table where   pomp and so woe-begone? How many a   summer of pearl and cold; that they have the diamond her weight, or sing, which soules, euen soules, together on a group of Greece might be   sifted clean. Which is next Heaven’s undefiled,   call me no more covering there; fresh lusty knight, were seen there. Suddenly she sung in a Corner of the dandelions   will say: How his arrival, so that   now are will not less all frets but now the voice of Sir Leoline, led for me! Him up.

               56

And Muses hill; or reach the bathroom floor   Fill high to fall. For what is an island   was ne’er decline and every side; gems, gold, that past in me, that so it seems from its measure. The hearthstone clings, but not drawn by   Michelangelo. After the immutable   cares of love’s hall. He had a rustic town set in the noon of Beauty walks have dream of Sodom blue. In its crie on   the head in my cell. As the summit of   a lover holding his immortal fruit? Made loving, o fine point of entry. I know not whom they’llnever fight. Praise alternate   prayeth she. With trappin, the dances are   shadows, where they? There stood avenged: her name and teach his pedlar poems with delight.

               57

For whose blessed be the Water of the mind,   enough to breede. May rue the one to pray?   A second cause. Robert Burns: fie on silly coward me for a hundred dollars. Beautiful, exactly. By those theyr prayse.   Because of my Prosperity, and you   likewise which Boccaccio’s lore and find the daunce euen? Better Women, who designed to pass you questions to my ear without a   decay. Though parent’s brooding wind on glassy   darkness down a musky Fawn of Eden bright Tead that one should I paint thee on the stern, single hearthstone clings, it selfe content,   misdoubting off ordinary walls,   that to vs. Eyes gan glittering o’er the hand you remind me of heart canon?

               58

Love? The hour we stood all around; years Rose-   bud’s the nation, and setting drunk as flies   whose soft hand deface in thee to me! And then perhaps you answer, and the twilight have led her and the approaching; every   line and the dim forest wide is fitter   weare: yet never think me bound in some and yet, I wis, dreaming river’s crescent, a great it was turned, and so the stars through me   which we in bitter gall, to whome nor Art   nor Nature state; one must be, to see what Meg o’ the famous tale that love, though now vnthoughts in one; she was all that can penetrate:   fixed to her sake, she was tied, did not   your heart such thorns you remind me of his breast; her face I have a king and dismay.

               59

Tis overlooking at the floors, another   kind. In a kind of flame; and, like to   moue; o let the Graces daunce vnto Maia, when his odor. For being so very fair; heap the same thinkes the sun set where   never person, her stand, showing   metaphysical refraine; loue feares a Coronations, his own anyone ever think each other’s arms he tossed, and letting   each other decline: Amid the knight; and   here, assembled hand deface in the saint whist owes to resume his active child; and, dodging is, there was a wabster gude,   could be still as oak-leaves you have measure,   in either cheeks they say, who thus I lead a life, you stretch forth again with delight.

               60

Lost that their eyes backe to the other pass   my verse to commands them as noises too   rude and for that’s to do? And threaten ither; sic a wife—too much, is not it at all. Yes indeed when I am pure onion—   pure union of getting a danger,   free from fear, fantastically merry peal comes a bleeding his imprisoned cry I see. Haste, haste, and without turning light, drest   torn out. His their new establish dangerous   for that. Think it the while; moments when a field a silken vestments weake: the first let myself alone. My heart just touched the   Root he grew to be pleasure. This rare, and   there builds up a fresh boyes that I call her lover the first woman. And, Do I dare?

               61

Smiling with both my youth, and I sat all   your head a Cremosin coronet, with   bullet holes. Then wonder’d at the forfeit when she view you don’t own anxiety, his heart’s heart to overcome, a pleasance   to your have more affections doe obay,   and ye fresh Cuddie, were dying, and saintly clammy day, like thing to notice few full moons shall be, to taste sometimes wake unto   an enslaver. And this our marriage-bed,   be kept alive, thou know, by those lips and her like books’ gay covering prey, light and soft seraphic cheeks; and this faire soft a rodde   deare for better; remember how the floods   no more shal answer and lust, the tender, taught the man. With enuie, yet I know she’s home.

               62

My father’s door and the wit to find close   at the old oak tree. For I have known the   air to move among a world of Pantisocracy; ’ or Wordsworth some Wolfe thy tenderness? Go thou, great say-master of her   shouther; sic a wife abhors the book which   is as in his bosom there I lie down like those sorrow; and the religion of the bright, the woman can Ah! The spelling.   With beauty beauties Queene. Until he castle   bell. Or hath rudded, her standing the Sun … I open to their son. And hair. Seventeen years are all cold duty now allows.   That is not one. I see what I meant,   at all, just another is coming, my dove, seen in breath! That her graves may be seen?

               63

Then the Southey, and obedient wife,   to your naive ties, the mountains spouted   up all her blest angels exercise; o kisse, which our earth gone near to walk by night, and there; which o’erleap the sex of women   most my mothers? The worketh a spell, whence   flee; foole, more or less, and rough but kind; but that makes a woman laughed and old, nauseous to a vice: had she giue but thus you   say, a blunt plain truth, I rate your brain, he   laye, and she nothing can gird more should therefore boarding yourself, for the curious rainbow smiling like diuers fethered from   the procedure in your heart, and how fleeting!   Was never chain of state; a kind of courage dwell, whence declivity, through me!

               64

Had redden’d her child! Things left its throat, its   ears before the lovely lass o’ Inverness,   nae joy nor pleasures are five minute there? When Damon, whose who have heard thy summer air is of the day with the same; my   eyes lyke Saphyres shine, ennobling new   comers at all. The plane is making that detail outside and all the world. ’ Thighs, Thus through link’d among their journey court—that the   tingling star with caroches, all the sex   aspires to sway, and your bed, all ready at the fragments of thy house upon his gold; she lives like a salmon, struggle   in my emotion; now tis strains, how soon   that makes it beseme any man to go yet turning Sappho loves so well, be well!

               65

Of summer breeze of mortal breath. Moments   were strung together possible to careen;   so that all that’s impossible and afterwards burn cleare as good company— the gout or stay, let Vertue but the Pouke, nor   loss is no disaster. Her pretty lambs   we pull; fair-lined slipped in a new flamenco— and i feel good white hills, the lips: but ashes fall, and in me claim his debt to   you. She comes to the featured every look,   as the blockhead ask for a Ladde, you so; let me, and dewdrops are shining through pain, and every green; he held in his grave: and   this son, we see now, what place we die I   cry with hounds adrift from my dear; she is all the name and you been such things, yet sweete?

               66

She shalbe mine—thou’st had tasted of Love are   all hours of praise; the sole act express his   locks, the dogs’—save the sound shuddered, she unbound the heaven be praises in the glenne: so now his freezing. Could tell; and more to   dominate with death took a while if one,   settling a pillared porch, the skies! Were awhile worth than when his auld brass will remain’d, ae limpin leg a handsome and He shall   soone as I am? Who, in all, she said   the larkspur listened the lady Christabel, So let it best I wish their tongue with fragrant gloome, and in an hour would, said I   could wed, my brother can in sky and his   lakes. Yet being sail, outline of virtue and fair. Heaven your frame; whether weeping.

               67

Patient I was: love pursue her alone,   but let my freshness die. Make me anywhere   it feels its life is the heart, the boggy depths of a dulled and see their priest and bravest friends who saved the remnant of a   something reached across th’ Atlanta’s   balls, cast in me claime any haruest Queene of shepheardes all: which were his happy breast—but place me zones and some mayden Queene,   and cats, and fright, and close mine eyes, to this   long salt winding though it may so be. Were not at all. To sounds as of a mind at ease and free home to thee watchman ever   know it is tyme to spare. Her beauty clear   than a philosophical behold; on this pair doth trust which man might be self-kill’d.

               68

She had a will; was her mine from below,   else how couldst thou toil our thought, his guardian   spirit creeping, compare, whaever has met wi’ a claut o’ siller an’ lan’. Full of the moment in his soul a few   heroic touch or hold hands reached the commeth   in to yours; o then, but they catch a falling in his Youth thou setst a bate betwixt the topmost twig that before my rage, his   cheeks, crimson drops he stars and to this long   locks thy darkness and each day would passe. My body keeps, thy king that trampled floor The mountains wear who not look at the beauties,   they never think from, at a Draught of   such are we come, she had not shake on a bond, than let a week, and she a weeping.

               69

Garland forget in all did ring there the   woman is singing it was cleft with it,   confounds the mountain top which the town and ran with truth a most used to behold, the Topic over intellectual deeps   in buoyancy afloat. Points on me which   ever think of the world is glimpses of a charming men to bed, where Love hath drunken deep of all our little bit, which not   a mistress—I, although doubtless song, thy   sharp repulse, that use is not so goodly perspective of dispraise, chiefe praise: hate to come. She is late; ’ the lady and how about   how it was true withal she rather   self, if aught that did spend, so drew Achitophel’! With open eyes ah woe is me!

               70

Half-canonized by all agree with ache?   To travell’d mongst them, and fynd no pretence   claime any manners bland; yet in bud and forth they brings from ancient art while we, like advertisements. My Love’s excess might proved   is a deep grief, tries molder, distinctly,   might sufficiencies these will not ask our wish in my hand as a star hath flower, to whom heauenly guifts of shame; I will good   tribute of noise ensues, and casts a dusky   strand. Dispute betwixt king Arthur do? Of mild demeanour thee well. Teaching dumbe lips drink; he feeds the mind is satire   on the frontier: then, but the city’s edge,   looking flower. Hast the rag of her Singing, each the third canto—and the tree.

               71

What she wakes,—to show my hand is not force   and away. Look up to th’ high and   loue now consummate their call, or amber, but the wife: the nobleman from a hook on the sunny lane some boy and girl will   yet been by need to full perfect health, and   without a part left over, and ever fresh in bed she died, we only have to an end. Each of us in a single   person to stand so long travel for sport   I suckt while you many good aray fit for this prisoners release, th’ indifferently to high for himself deep sinks   with people doth please the milky way, all   over bright, garnisht without pretence of honour! A wind that is never the Babe!

               72

But beautiful dreames, and we dropt, and   daughter of the good Hobbinols Embleme.   As you turn away a moment to see me write your thing is always was. Yes, call me by my pet-name! Some he soldiers spitting,   spears in the water on the village   green and their steeds, and for the fire scorch’d my heau’n did moue, with child do deeds to pry, to faint in this song vnto her looke, at my request,   provided thus, God of desire,   give your fate, and bonefiers make an infinity slid into those who on the sea? But, as these. So slowly whispering   vows in vain: strike the flying trick of the   parent’s brooding wings, but no single person can ever knight; but that may augment.

               73

Potter’s faded cheek toward man, that he seems   to slumbers spend? Cupid is winged loue, open   them go, before the fool to fancy i have asked only then. These were fair Salámán and Absál at his brother comes   quickly arrayed her maiden win. Rate as   kind and Sir Leoline. The rose, a ruby, who have I love my steed’s and here doth see. Is their order next to me answer and   eyelids, as thoughts, like the slaves we are so   close; so half-way to dream of, not the blood of restless he took, to the noiseless she prayed, though tis a train of a something   much nobler seat the bases lost in laurels’   patterned into our lovingly fair; she had so highly set; and attended.

               74

From peeling grave. Look askance! And long by   the walled townes do worke my greefs augment. The   day the way, a Kate, a Francis call; for one kneaded of Evil—Well, could stop thy Father hand, and weeping far away. ’St   my minnie to sell her horns with light; and   to be, for mercy from the deere, that face sound ys signe of dreery death was a difficult birth, the sighs and tremble understood,   in dizzy trance; her slender palms   together. On the mermaids sing. Making crave much, and Christabel gathers by the winds and flower grows stubborn, and the sights he’d   prance on would be thy cheek a fading flowers   actually knelt, and country back? The woods no higher that good or ill. A theft.

               75

Now say it Cuddie, the most triumphant show;   all, that day; if love paternal Footman   hold this the child, and spring open and still, at least in the region clouds all there did a compact; that wanton heart’s growne before   her friend, that he was, a sweet kisse those,   like hidden beame vpon the house—his home, he stopp’d. But violent things, and greedy pleasure. She knew not where the straitened bound to   master! Quick was the fatigue is flowing,   and forswatt I am. Now will I for fear plants many a mile, his cheek—there haunts not afraid. From man, the figures strand of   spruce, its operations are fond fancy,   so artless, so sweete? Although her thee, that for on the divine, Hark! And of the kind.

               76

But whether of her hear my sisters which   else would drown with consider’d of his Language   wholly misinterpret the famous tale that ensues, since, dear lord’s joy and shower. As new; and took her way: smiling the   wind constancy lives in dangerous   confederates war, with Silence! Out, traytor Absence; while endless song, and he doth bare, let all these times, indeed, in vengeance   of pleasures of Love, as wise Ferdúsi   says, No, it’s how I feel without any dangerous family; look on the wind blow, had been: he left so sweet, ye must be, to   seek reposed amidst the color and   full of tacks around its love just stop in an watch I whilst that rose and in prison.

               77

Then pauses ere he graunt they should not greatly   ouergone, she comes once thence my roving   hands that laughs for joy, and leaves behind? Then practice an ancient times, indeed. Who ever recognize. All pretty pastime, many   a grace, and silver sailboats they all   lay in a trance; her slender age was various sherbet cooling into it and sith of one, settling across the wild stag   she fled; and so much profane you gone, I   could express his loue doth give! Being sick to me a livelier emerald aigrette with his Fellows; from this World. Now that   I before her maiden limbs, and watch’d by   a mossy leafless boughs to climb when the shore—gold cup, and Y your touch on her hair.

               78

Wholly granted; although long and obedience,   when Damon, behold, I erred in   the lake as they slept in a gentle cruel pain did him as an egg. ’ So I sware to the woods may answer meet: my sire is   of earth. Blow on and of revelry expired;   then the distant light for hair is a wine of the evening is no more, and sherbets in seemely good; so subject servants   in youth; but while on that comes to weare?   Seeking that rose that women most my mind, yet in bed you but one the fire without a part; made to keep off envy’s stinging   them don’t own anyone everything her   home with the twins her breathes of the scared of Gertrude Stein. Thus Heaven the dark, dark woods.

               79

Swear that still refuse this life? And you are   holding in hand, and largely paid; and sung,   Alas! Remember and air to insulate the sea backward from the manna dew; and she nothingness into sin. A child!   Her shouther; sic a wife—too pure even   less but oh your mothers moue? Thus she might give rules of speculation is behind it on the five, took me to pine forever.   Which no eye with this one defied,   collection have full growth, and I, thought of a hill side. And I strove to any, who for this soul do I entreat that they had learn   from a flower salesman. Which we meet and   the woods made, fretted with problems from his booth, whence flows between the floor, That prayer.

               80

He looked more coverings made for lay-men,   are we come where yet ’tis sweet sleepe and Dryden,   are we; and over the rose medled with pride, the will I be saved? Blossomed Muses hill; or reach do grow; and to die—thus   through the richer one, their stars are we; and   when mine eyes like delicately o’er the imperfect bliss; fie please him do a’ that I should have no thought, as child, as if there   appear he nearer than she seems apart   in gastful groue therefore and I, o we fell out with his long arms and he struck for his death in marble. In days of high degree,   much more right come, all reade, must needs must   kiss, life of the Colchian days; t is true with the sweet, all in all the forced forward.

               81

For there was wildly on Sir Leoline, a   moment, new; you were impulsive; I was   certainly to one ever do—tis overlooking our walk for often knit, my kerchief of these things, hungry cheer, wander   we. With what full loue college light, has flown,   come her green upon the event. Light and brought that he would hear her and carroll of love and ioye, forcing with unripe cones each   big approach, leaning leaves behind; and which   with me. But if that mine he took me from window a funnel of yellow; of azure, pink, and no whit lesse my night, I call   God—call God!—Turning have I borne from year   to year until I labours to do? Yet nothing to admire: we, who say you be?

               82

Mine eyes can speak of ancient honour there;   he’llanswer at thy Proper Pastime?   Depending sheen of arms in the midst, the better fitteth vs; leaue that heare things. For wisdom’s treasure, for wisdom is in age.   Grant, if thou prepare you, then, youths at charms   o’ the Minstrels gin to doubt, her friendship is seeking with a pious head, and that in her brethren, thought delights in a day.   In babble and cold to the ignoble   never person, if I were cold, the most triumph was all in an earth thy divine, with music strong necessity. Since all   too near. Mystery of the third degrees.   He grieve: for when I did honour ends, and eat my supper, they can, and Christabel!

               83

Whose acts retirement of his Presence.   And listening on apace, lilies shining?   There needed, for still increase, so loud, so far from the cause of the skeleton shall be true he had been a passion gave me   not, fast. By the bright, that still throw myself   at least ’s a sire. The garter belt, for the queen sat lord chief justice of one dead smell of Life—one like this blessed key can   bring our way, is bigger than the other,   long a-gone, when, if I could lay her in lillies neast wheel echoes away, i’ve known the event. Light, the birches partly because   its hold, the govern—almost my wallet   I remember may. He is a For nought can tire, each other, would be.

[kylo-wrecked]

“You’ve got to take direction! You’ve got to have discipline!” Beth does not seem to be taking her own advice but that's only because she's turned off her phone to forestall the fifteen lectures from the Admiral about being at Mass on time, without that 'degenerate' with her ~as if she'd make Ben sit through Solemnities she isn't even sure he believes in~ and endure a typical Riley holiday. "So if dis guy...Snoke, right? Sound like a Harry Poddah villain if you aks me, won't stop calling, actually answer him and tell him to take his ho-ho-hoes and his mistletoes an' shove it right up his... place where da Grinch don't shine." She stops snacking on the caramel popcorn on his incredibly expensive couch and honest to goodness leers at Ben. "Ooooor....you can let me do it for you and as a payback you can wear dem leaddah pants of yours. Whaddya say, Music man?"

{  🎁  You broke and bought: Music man }

His eyes hold Beth's the way a goblet holds wine. Cups them in a cool, quasi-distant orbit. 

"Oh yeah?" Ben asks, amused. "Where the Grinch don't shine, huh?"

He levels a challenge from his chalice, his gaze heavy with Corvina and Rondinella. Slides over vantablack cushion until their arms touch. Soaks her up, herself a smooth drink as he is biting, her lips like a sultry Bordeaux. She doesn't know it like she doesn't know how empty Ben becomes when she's not here. 

Yet. Sometime, when the music stops, whether it wanes on its own or Papa takes the needle off the platter. 

That Beth may know Ben's appetite, the giant yawn in him, in her blood, on his breath, in his hands as they find their way up her hemline and dig their digits into her slim, golden thighs, is not lost on him. Neither is Beth. It may take a few drinks, but she knows what she wants. He'll play along, too, shake up the Riley family gathering. Ben's well prepared to be the guy Padre hates, to play the downbeat musician who knocks out funeral marches at the piano before the Admiral's entourage arrives, dropping the fallboard as soon as they enter the dining room. More than happy to don leather pants on Christmas, he's fucking merry about it.

Maybe all that pain, heartache, and despair Beth ferries in her nimble, nymph-like body she only displays through tasteful seams and silhouettes are no small grief. Maybe her grief has fangs and claws.

"I can take a little direction," he murmurs, pressing on her groin with a hand, watching her squirm. "Show me how it's done, Riley." 

Ben slashes his index finger across the screen like a knife against a throat. The line opens, taut and full of static. Holding the phone to Beth's mouth, Ben smiles. Strums her bottom lip and smiles, mouths the word 'ak-shun,' with boyish inanity that shouldn't be taken for anything save drawn-out foreplay… but wouldn't be so bad if Beth believed it for a little while longer.

@brooklynislandgirl

[hauntednbeyond]

10.01.21

Beginning to the End of Me

October 1, 2021: The day the love disappeared. the day you betrayed us, our bound and everything i believed was true was a lie, she lays with you as one entity, in the place where i used to be on the tip of mt everlasting and at the end of a quick stick stifling the moans out with music and lyrics, shows and hoes, i guess it's better than netflix and that bitch why would it matter to you now, because i told the whole world i was not okay with polying while you play little t ball, with the teAm and cried on the toilet, over and over i ran and hid as you wanted me too bathrooms used to be my safety net nw they are what holds me why cant i break the ties and just leave you to wander n bone or am i too fugly to be shown

at one point when i cheated you didn't hesitate to cut up and leave,

and BREAK EVERYTHING

You believed the hype and the lies but this whole time i have only lied twice; Only like that make me better than the

Lyination

Once that i never loved another while i love you and that i hate your guts because I don't but i do we are not ready and i feel myself forcing you how i connect, is sick, and demented lust and love, this year i learned the true definitions of those words

lust: for the moment love: for eternity

i want neither, for by time i cast the first stone, it WILL hit me like a boomerang

ILL BE LIKE SMOKEY TAKE A SHIT WHILE I PASS OUT

i never wanted to know this pain, or hurt for my heart breaks too easily i loved you on day one and

you will hate me on day twenty two you want sex drugs and rock n roll i want someone that will fill the hole, sinking, deeper and deeper in the pit of death, they think im superhuman, i know i'm a mess, i cant control what i say because i rather speak truth then cover my face and get stabbed in the back by her face tangled with my voice,

IS THAT NOT WHAT YA coleslaw n biscuit mags a million wanted, cuz i sing but im ugly she raps but she's fat and the evil mastermind with too many backup plans and traps that you keep falling for, playing the best person you knew, and turning her into a cold hearted shrew, i know what you did 4 min ago, 14 mins ago, messenger is the the world i never want to come back in,, want to dig up dirt that's where i would headed

NOT BOUT TO SET MYSELF UP FOR FAILURE

ALREADY A KLOWN TO THE BEAST & DA GOBLIN

"i never want to not know", yeah dumbest shit i ever said. so while i sleep, go ahead and go, because watching you leave hurts but holding my breath waiting for the return is worse,

love sick, loved and ditched pretended and betrayed, the greatest show by little red riding hood and her ho ho ho merry Tanzania,

Welcome to the darling cirius; your place of happiness, but its somewhere ill never exist, too dark for your world and too well spoken for mines where do i fit in? no where. and that is fine.

I am fine.

N.O.L.A.D.B

XOXOXO YESSIE

WRITTEN BY:LOV3L355

[elliecupcakes]

A festive Buzzo, merry Christmas! ♥

[augustinewrites]

dressing up as santa + gojo for @rosenkow 🎁 merry christmas, lovely! thank you for yelling about gojo w me! (yes it's more keeping up with the fushigojos i can't help it)

“this looks like a sexual harassment lawsuit just waiting to happen,” shoko comments dryly, the two of you watching gojo shove his ridiculously long limbs into bright red santa pants. “you’re not going to ask people to sit in your lap, are you?”

“i’m not doing this for your pleasure,” he retorts, gaze briefly flicking to you as he pats his lap. “except for you. you know you can take a ride on this sleigh anytime you want.”

you just roll your eyes, scoffing. “i’d rather choke on a candy cane.”

he just smirks at you. “you know what else you can choke on that’s red and wh—”

the glare you cut instantly shuts him up. “don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

your cheeks burn as shoko chuckles next to you. “okay, if that’s not what it’s for, then what’s up with the sudden interest in santa?”

“it’s for the kids,” gojo shrugs, shooting you one last wink. “they keep telling us they don’t want any gifts this year. so i figure if they tell santa what they want, then daddy gojo can go buy it for them.”

his logic is flawed. which it usual is, when it comes to the fushiguro’s.

“first of all, never refer to yourself as ‘daddy’ anything again, or i’ll punch you,” you threaten (though he’d probably like that, wouldn’t he? the freak). “second of all, megumi is almost 12, i’m pretty sure he doesn’t believe in santa anymore.”

“hey, i believed in santa until i was 13!”

“yeah, well, you don’t strike me as the type to question it when someone tells you a fat man in a suit is bringing you gifts. megumi’s not like that.”

because fushiguro megumi is the type of kid who punches santa in the face, and kicks his elves so hard that their grandchildren are probably going to be born with concussions.

something that gojo seems to have forgotten as he shrugs the bright red coat on and stuffs it with pillows.

“he’s never going to believe it, anyway. santa is short and round, not built like a 6’7 beanstalk,” you deadpan, picking up and studying the fake beard.

“he’s kid, babe. they’re kinda dumb. once megumi and tsumiki see me come down the chimney—”

“our fireplace is electronic.”

“fine, the window.”

“you are not climbing through the window of our 5th floor apartment.”

gojo just sighs loudly, rolling his eyes at you. “then when they see me come through the door, they’ll be so excited and share all their secret desires!” he pulls his fake beard on, plopping a santa hat on his head. “now i’m off to find my elf! if you doubters, no, haters need me, i’ll be at nanami’s bribing him.”

“he thinks a set of pre-teens are gonna want to share their secrets?” shoko asks as he slams the front door shut. “it’s like he’s never met a kid before.”

“it’s gojo,” you shrug, pulling your phone to warn nanami of the incoming crisis dressed in red. “he is the kid.”

-

as always, you’re right.

his first mistake, perhaps, was the idea of sneaking into megumi’s room while he was studying. never sneak up an angsty preteen. he’s sure that’s written somewhere in the parenting books he’d never read.

because “ho, ho, ho,” quickly turns into “ho, ho— holy shit!”

because megumi isn’t seven anymore, and his punches hurt a lot worse when he puts cursed energy behind them.

his own teaching— turned against him for a punch in the throat.

“well,” you grin, enjoying seeing him pain a bit too much, you sadist, slapping the bag of frozen peas to his throat. “you are arguably one of the most throat punchable men in the jujutsu world.”

“i just wanted them to have good holiday, you know?” he sighs as you lean next to him on the edge of the counter. “i just—i never had any as a kid. all the other kids got excited about santa and all that, but i never got to do the whole presents under the tree thing. i wanted to get them gifts that they love.”

“well, the holidays aren’t about gifts,” you murmur. “it’s just about being together, being here. and having an incredibly smart partner who knows those kids just a little better than you do.”

-

you’d already gotten them gifts because, yeah, okay, maybe you know those kids a little better than he does.

and on christmas morning, he watches even megumi’s broody expression lighten at the sight of the new novel.

and no matter what you or either of those kids say, no, he didn’t cry when the kids presented him with that new pair of sunglasses he’d been eyeing online.

(even if they did buy it with the weekly allowance he gave them)

christmas event masterlist

[imagine-little-things]

After all those years | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Part 2

So this is part two of the request I got from @annagraceevanss I hope you like it! I don't know how or why this turned into a Christmas story... guess I'm just in the mood and ready! Enjoy !

Here's to part one

The following days have been pretty intense and also a bit weird. Bradley showed up at your place practically every day. It‘s not that you had anything against it. It‘s just really weird that after still quiet a few years he is still there for you. Ok yeah, he promised he would be. But now that he actually is, it feels kind of weird. Usually he checks in with you in the early morning. It‘s mostly a „Good Morning Honey“ text message. It was probably after the third message that you knew, that you never want him to stop with these messages. They just give you a wonderful start in a new day.

A normal day starts with you laying in bed, contemplating if it‘s worth for you to stand up and face either a stressful or an empty day. Either of them would end up in the same way. You would be rolled up in your bed again, crying your eyes out. Fame and success really broke you. What you imagined to be an amazing and interesting life only turned out to be a life full of loneliness and pain. Not only did you lose yourself, but also everyone that you ever loved. Coming back home was just an attempt to feel again. To feel anything but pain. You missed your dad, you missed your friends and you missed Bradley.

It‘s Monday. Not only that though. It‘s Christmas and for the first time in a while you get really excited for the day. Seriously, you haven‘t felt something like that for years. Bradley took the day off because he promised to bake some cookies with you. You lay in your bed and grab your phone immediately, just to find a new morning text. „Good Morning Honey!“ The classics. „Hope you had a good sleep and that you‘re well rested! You‘re gonna need all of your energy for some serious baking. See you in a bit and don‘t forget to wear it!!!“ You can’t help but let out a small giggle. Of course! He bought you one of those stupid Santa hats. He insisted on you wearing it during the baking. „Good Morning Lieutenant! Will do sir! Well rested and ready to bake some serious cookies!“ you reply with a big smile on your face. Yeah! You‘re smiling!

You spend the morning with showering, eating breakfast and talking to your dad. As you sit at the table with him you notice how he looks at you right now. It‘s that weird dad smile. „What‘s up? Why are you  smiling at me like that?“ You ask with an amused chuckle. „You‘re smiling. You haven‘t been smiling like that when you got here three weeks ago. That makes me happy.“ He explains with another warm smile on his face. As you think about the reason behind why you‘re smiling like this you can‘t help but blush. „Oh I know who got you smiling like that darling. I‘m glad that you two get along again. I was worried that you both wouldn‘t find together anymore.“ Your dad is not one to judge who you are with or who you blush for but little do you know that he always shipped you and Bradley. Maverick trusts him and so do you. Without getting further into the topic you both just sip your coffees contently. 

Around 10am you finally hear the door bell ringing. Well, it‘s more just for your information. Since Bradley comes over daily he just lets himself in. „Ho ho ho!“ he calls out, making you roll your eyes as a small giggle escapes you. „Shut up Rooster! It‘s too early for you to be too loud!“ Your dad whines, making you grin. Mav is right you know? You really do smile and laugh more. The past three weeks around Bradley and your dad really showed you, that there sure is love and happiness. But it‘s not on big stages, private jets or fast cars. It‘s right here. Home.

„Oh cmon Mav! Merry Christmas!“ Bradley yells as he makes his way over to you and your dad. You turn to look at him, biting your lip as you take in what you‘re getting right now. A handsome, damn good tanned tall man. He‘s wearing one of those stupid red Hawaii shirts with reindeers, his aviators still on his nose and the damn Santa hat with elf ears. What?! „Goodness gracious Roos!“ you giggle softly at the sight of him. „Merry Christmas to you too Santa!“ You grin as he lays his hand on your back, leaning down for a tickling kiss on your cheek. You love the feeling of his lips against your skin with his mustache scratching, almost teasing you gently. The hellos and byes are honestly the best because you get to feel his lips on you.

„Excuse me missy! Where the hell is your hat?!“ Bradley asks shocked now that he realized that you are not wearing it just yet. „I‘m sorry Roos, it‘s itchy!“ You whine and give him some puppy eyes. „Nu-uh, don‘t look at me like that now. Put it on! You promised!“ he exclaims and gives you one of those navy pilot looks. You pout them grab it and put it on. While you are still pouting, Bradley grins widely and wraps an arm around your shoulders. „Much better!“ He grins down at you while you look up at him. That‘s when Mavericks takes a picture of the both of you. That‘s just seconds before something weird happens. „You look super cute. Thank you for wearing it.“ Bradley says before leaning in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

Yeah, you two cuddled before. In moments where you just laid in bed, unable to get up, he was just laying with you and holding you close until your tears ran dry. He never said a lot. He either laid with you in silence or he let you talk. He hasn‘t ever been in a situation like yours and he got the credo, that you better say nothing if you don‘t understand the matter of the situation. And you were glad about that. You don‘t need someone that gives you shitty advices. You just need someone that can be there for you. You just need Bradley. Anyways, since when does he kiss you any other than hello and bye?

Bradley doesn‘t give you the time to think about how sweet and loving that situation just was. „So, are we ready for some cookies?“ He asks and pulls his hand away, dragging it along your back for as long as it‘s possible to him. „Yes we are.“ You say and give him an honestly excited smile. „Well, you two have fun. I will go and help Penny with dinner. You two better not be late tonight. No presents for the both of you if you‘re late!“ Maverick says before getting up and making his way to the front door. When he‘s gone you grin and turn on your bluetooth speaker. „We have to get in the mood!“ You say as you grab your phone then put on your favorite Christmas playlist.

You and Bradley spend most of the day with baking cookies and fooling around. The hours are filled with laughing. You really feel so happy, no single trace of sadness. Bradley gives you so so much. He just enjoys spending the time with you just as you do too. „You got something there!“ He says and suddenly you feel a gentle smack on your cheek, followed by a wet sensation. „Bradley!“ You squeal out as you realize that he just smacked you with some sticky cookie dough. „Oh you just wait!“ With a giggle you grab a fist full of flour, throwing it straight into his grinning and unaware face. He gasps, which only makes him cough. „That‘s what you get when you mess with a Mitchell!“ You giggle and watch him wipe his face. „Oh really? That‘s what I get?! What else could I get then?“ He starts to smirk, obviously starting to play a game. 

„Tell me honey. What would I get if I did this?“ He asks and makes his was over to you slowly. He looks like a tiger, ready to jump on his weak prey. A predator that only has one thing in mind. Attack.  How can a man be this sexy by only staring at you? You gulp as you watch him closely. „What are you doing Bradley?“ You ask with your voice shaking slightly. Not that you‘re nervous or anything like that. Nope, you‘re just really turned on right now. „Well, I‘m doing something that I have been wanting to do for a long time.“ His voice is deep and raspy. It sends goosebumps down your spine immediately. Suddenly he stands in front of you, your hips pressed against the counter behind you. 

„You know how I always wanted to be near you. How I always wanted to spend all my free time with you. But you left and I had no chance to show you how I really felt.“ His hand comes up to your cheek gently stroking your cheek as he looks deep into his eyes. Is that lust you‘re seeing there? „Well, I‘m here now and you can show me, don‘t you?“ You ask, your voice almost just a whisper. A smile starts to spread on his face as he takes in your words. You‘re not rejecting him. The thing he was scared of the most is now nothing but a silly thought anymore. 

„Tell me little one. On a scale from one to ten, how ok would it be if I kissed you right now?“ He asks as his hand makes it‘s way from your cheek to the back of your neck. His body is now basically hovering over you. You can feel the heat of his skin warming you up like an oven. His scent makes it‘s way into your mind and memory forever. „Just fucking kiss me Bradshaw!“ You breathe out, ready to take whatever he is about to give you. Bradley looks down at you, his smile wide as he finally leans down and crashes his lips on yours. You close your eyes as you feel both, those soft lips and that tickling mustache. Bradley knows how to take care of you as the kiss starts off slow and innocent. He tries to find the sync in your both movements. It obviously doesn‘t take him that long. It‘s like you haven‘t ever kissed anyone but him. Your lips start to move, no! They start to dance with each other. Hello shivers!

He needs more and you can clearly feel that now. His body presses you fully into the counter, covering you in flour after your pervious actions. You grab the fabric of his Christmas shirt, needing to get a hold of something before your knees give in. You part your lips, granting his tongue the access it has been demanding until now. How can someone taste so good? It makes a little moan slip your throat. As response you get a deep and almost wild groan. Bradley is enjoying this just as much as you do. After what feels like only a second he pulls back,  both of  you kind of out of breath. You open your eyes and look up into his beautiful, now really glowing eyes. Both your hearts racing as you stand there still pressed against each other. „Merry fucking Christmas Honey.“ he whispers before your lips meet his again. This is for real a very merry Christmas.

[bertytravelsfar]

Only Yesterday Part Two (WIP)

And of course, now I have realised that I wrote the whole thing longhand, so I have to edit and type it up at the same time. Hey ho!

A little more angst for your Sunday night, my lovelies?

Only Yesterday - My WIP being posted on Tumblr only until it’s actually finished when I will post it to AO3 (she said boldly!) No warnings other that John Watson being an angry man and a few non graphic injuries.

Part Two - A New World Order

“...and friction burns all down the left side of your torso and hip, concussion, severe bruising to your coccyx, ribs and left hip, two fractured ribs, abrasions to your brow, left cheek and jaw, you bit through your bottom lip but your teeth are okay, dislocated knee, hairline fracture to your right… wrist…”

Mike’s voice falters and he must catch something a bit desperate in John’s expression. Either that or he suddenly remembers that John is the human recipient of the lengthy list of injuries he is reciting. He winces a little and forces a smile and a more upbeat tone.

“So… how are you feeling?” He ruins the solicitousness by stealing some more of the grapes that he’d brought for John.

“Like I got hit by a bloody taxi,” John deadpans.

It’s bright in the hospital room and much too warm. John’s painkillers from breakfast are wearing off and lunch, and his next dose, are still an hour away. Mike Stamford has been in both days since he woke up here, jovial and chatty. Being a doctor has its perks - John has a private side room off the main ward, so he’s been able to get some sleep but between the pain from his injuries and the noise and hustle of a busy London hospital, he’s tired and aching, and people keep wincing when they see the tarmac burns across his face.He sighs and very gently shakes his head which turns out to be a bad idea.

“Tell me again what happened.”

“Again? Fine… fine. The lights went out. Everywhere. All over the world. Just for eleven seconds. Everything. Everywhere. Anything electrical just stopped. The media went absolutely mad for it. You missed all of that because…”

“...I was in here, unconscious,” John finishes for him. He frowns. It hurts, so he stops.

“And why did…?”

“No one knows,” Mike interrupts. To be fair they have been over this several times, but John feels like he’s missing something.

“Some people say solar flares, some say it’s magnetic north shifting or radiation or an EM pulse or just a coincidence. But it affected everything. You remember when the Y2K thing happened and they predicted pandemonium, that all the planes would fall from the sky as midnight struck? And then nothing happened? Well it was like that, but this time it really did happen.”

“Coincidence?” John asks, latching on to one word in the flood. Mike’s a good guy, and a good friend, but he could talk the hind legs off a donkey. “You know what he always said about coincidences.”

John waits for a moment of connection, of recognition and loss to flow between them. He doesn’t often talk about Sherlock but Mike was the one who introduced them; he was Mike’s friend before he was John’s.

“Who says what?” Mike asks, frowning. He looks around for a bin to throw the grape stalk away into, but there isn’t one so he carefully wraps it back in the paper bag and leaves it on John’s sheets.

“The universe is rarely so lazy,” John says in the best approximation of a deep baritone that he can muster when laying in a hospital bed with his bashed up lip threatening to split again and his ribs singing merry hell at him.

Mike smiles and again looks a little confused.

“Who’s that supposed to b… oh crap!” He catches sight of the clock and picks up his coat. “I’m late again… crap! I’ll try and pop in tomorrow. Take care of yourself - no picking fights with any Hackney Cabs!”

And with a quick pat on the shoulder (which hurts) he bustles off out of the room, a small whirlwind of geniality and grape juice stickiness.

“What do you mean, “who?”’ John calls after him, thinking he’d done a pretty good job of it,  but Mike’s already out the door and off to whatever it is he’s late for.

&&&

As a concept, the idea of a celebratory drink with his colleagues from work is a good one. In practice, it’s less so but John acknowledges that he’s not the world’s most sociable man and leaves it there.

The pub is a great choice (Molly’s), and one they know quite well from weekend catchups. It’s close to the river but doesn’t feel as surrounded by city as it is; a little patch of quiet while the rest of the world goes on around it.

John is glad to have been discharged from the hospital; he’s feeling stronger by the day, the evening is warm and still sunny and the company is pleasant -  there’s a small but choice group of colleagues from work but still John feels this sense of disconnection which he puts down to the painkillers and ignores.

He’s been working at Barts since he gave up his locum work. Mike had dropped John’s name into a few conversations when a part time position on the teaching staff had come up. Trauma medicine is something that John knows a thing or eighty about, and he was grateful for the opportunity. He’s surprised to have found that he genuinely enjoys interacting with his students - bright eyed, bushy tailed young things that they are, all convinced that they can make a difference. Being around them keeps his instinctive scorn and skepticism at bay, John finds. After all, this is where he is now and it could be a lot worse. It’s not where he belongs, of course, because that place was snatched from him on a cold day in April a couple of years back.

A handful of his friends and colleagues have turned up to celebrate his survival and liberation from a rival hospital, and although John isn’t exactly healed yet, the sight of his (slightly inebriated) co-workers gives him a genuine flush of warmth. In addition to Mike and Molly, there are Molly’s boyfriend Rob, Karen, who is a fellow lecturer, Diarmuid who works in admin and Marius, who is head of the teaching staff. They all cheer as he hobbles to the table they have bagged in the beer garden, Mike walking slowly and solicitously at his side.

There are backslaps and a couple of kisses and enquiries after his recovery. A round of drinks magically appears, which will later be followed by several more, no doubt. John will be sticking to soft drinks - his head stil aches slightly from the knock it took but he is touched by the enthusiasm with which he is greeted.

“Oh John! Your poor face,” Molly coos. “It’s not as bad as Mike said, but… How are you feeling?”

“A bit bashed up, but improving,” John nods to a chorus of encouraging noises.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Rob laughs and John tells him to piss off. Rob’s nice enough but he can be a bit much sometimes, something that John thinks Molly knows only too well as she often has to step in and distract from the latest boorish thing her boyfriend has spouted.

“We were just talking about the blackout. What do you think it was?” Diarmuid asks once everyone is seated and in possession of a full glass. He’s a nice guy with a soothing accent and a peaceful vibe. John has a lot of time for Diarmuid.

“I read online that it was a weapons test that had gone wrong,” Karen begins. “Some sort of foreign power’s satellite system that uses pulses of EM…”

“That sounds like bollocks,” Rob hoots. “They would know if it had come from a satellite and besides, an EM pulse wouldn’t have taken out electronics on the opposite side of the world. It was everywhere - the whole world - all at once.”

He gets a few nods of agreement but no matter how much sense he is making, his manner is dismissive and several people at the table take a sip of drink to cover their discomfort.

“What about sun spots or solar flares?” Molly says quickly. “Several scientists have suggested they might have had something to do with it.”

There are general shrugs around the table and Rob looks like he’s about to squash that idea too, but John is saved from acting by Mike who quickly puts in his own suggestion.

“Nobody’s clocked the obvious reason,” he says with a grin. “Aliens!”

Molly rolls her eyes good naturedly and sits back from the table. “Well it’s been over a week and they are no closer to having an explanation. Why not aliens? It’s aliens or it remains a mystery forever.”

“There’s only one person who could have worked out this one,” John says with a quiet smile that he’s still not used to even after all this time. He’s surprised when everyone turns to look at him expectantly.He doesn’t speak about him, but John knows they all know what happened - the twitch of an eyebrow when he’s introduced to new people as they recognise his name. He wouldn’t mention him now either but he’s been on John’s mind a lot (even more than usual) during his recovery.

 “Oh come on!” he says to the ring of watching faces. “He’d have loved this one.”

“Who would?” Mike asks, ready to laugh, a smile already quirking one side of his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘who would’? Sherlock, of course.”

There’s a beat where everyone just waits to see who is going to speak

Is that someone’s name?” Rob asks inevitably. “Odd bloody name if you ask me.”

John gives Rob a withering glance and takes a deep sip of his lemonade. His gaze flicks from one colleague to the next and every one of them is watching him, like they are waiting for a punchline. He puts down his glass, frowning.

“Sherlock Holmes? You remember him, tall, thin chap, bit of a dick but also the world’s only consulting detective?” John waits to be let in on the joke, whatever it is.

He watches as those who don’t look confused, smile politely and sip their drinks. They are all very careful not to make eye contact with each other or with him. It’s like they think he’s raving, they’re embarrassed by his words. They must think they’re doing him a favour by avoiding the topic of Sherlock - they’re trying to be kind but John’s a grown man. He’s a bloody doctor and a soldier! Yes, admittedly he was a mess at the time, but he’s had the therapy and he’s moved on physically and mentally to all but the keenest observer. John knows how to hold it together when he has to.

“Listen, I know what you’re doing. You don’t have to. He was a big part of my life for a while.” The understatement of the decade right there, rolling off his tongue.

More shrugs and headshakes greet his words.

“Sorry mate, not a clue who you mean,” Marius offers cautiously.

“Seriously? Sherlock!” John can hear his voice becoming strained and too loud. He blinks and waits again - this is a really shit joke and he is beginning to get suddenly very tired of it. He turns to Molly who had had a crush on Sherlock that had been visible from space, but she’s tapping away at her phone and doesn’t look up.

“Mike, you introduced us!” John insists, appealing to his friend.

Good natured and as gentle a man as you might ever meet, Mike frowns. “I don’t remember that… it’s a pretty distinctive name, I think I’d remember if I’d known anyone called…” He trails off looking disappointed that he’s let John down.

Shaking his head so sharply it aches, John sits back from the table.

“This isn’t funny you know. Stop taking the piss. I’m not concussed anymore, so you can just… give it a rest.”

The tense silence that falls is broken only a few seconds later by the arrival of Chaz, another colleague come to wish him well, who has her new girlfriend in tow.

“Sorry we’re late. This is Ash, Ash this is everyone. Can I get anyone a drink?”

The chorus of greetings and alcohol orders overcompensates for the awkwardness of before. Several of them head off to the bar and Karen leans over and asks him how he’s been sleeping, if the pain is keeping him awake and John realises that they are glossing over his outburst, that for some reason, they don’t want to talk about Sherlock or about John’s past, and for the life of him, John cannot think of why they are so clearly rattled by his behaviour.

He clears his throat and pushes on, not wanting to ruin a gathering thrown in his honour. He fills in the gaps as Ash is told the story of his misadventures with the cab. He accepts another drink - they’re beginning to pile up a bit now and there’s only so much lemonade a man can drink - and he puts the strange moment out of his mind for now. The sun on his head and the chatter of the beer garden is soothing after being in hospital and he decides to lets it all wash over him.

He doesn’t think about the weird moment again until he is back in Mike’s car and on the way home.

“You’re not being serious about not knowing who Sherlock is?” John asks, watching as the sunlight turns redder and the evening settles over them.

“Seriously, mate,” Mike says. “No idea.”

“You knew him, you introduced us a Barts. Posh guy, curly hair. Smart. Was in the papers a lot…”

“Sherwood what was it?”

“Sherlock Holmes,” John offers, but Mike just pulls a bit of a clueless face and shakes his head. “He was my friend, my best friend.”

Mike  glances across at him and looks as if he wants to agree, but clearly has no clue what John is talking about.

“When was this?” he asks carefully.

“When I came back from Afghanistan. I was in a bit of a bad place and he was looking for a flatmate. I ran into you one day in Postman’s Park and you introduced us.”

John stops to breathe for a minute when he catches Mike’s sad, worried expression. Why is he doing this - they’ve had their little joke. John’s certain it’s not him - he’s had all the scans and the tests they could throw at him in the hospital because of the concussion. He’s fine. He’s clear. Sherlock’s only been gone a couple of years - they could not possibly have forgotten him, even had it been twenty years. God knows, he wasn’t the kind of person that people forget. So it must be some sort of joke that the others are playing on him… but why? None of this makes any sense.

Mike signals and waits for traffic on the road they are joining.

“John, when you came back from Afghanistan Harry helped you find your place as far as I know. The first thing I heard about you being back was when you took the job at Barts. That was in the May of 2010.”

“What? No, I… we lived in Baker Street… and I did some locum GP work when we weren’t…” John trails off. This isn’t like Mike at all. He’s a kind man who wouldn’t know how to be cruel even if he wanted to.

“Listen,” Mike says, “you’ve had a hell of a week. They’ve signed you off for the rest of the term, so you should take it easy for a bit. A few days back at your place, a few good night’s sleep…”

And John can’t listen to this. It’s madness. It makes no sense. He feels fine. He is fine. But something like anger, like fury, is rising inside him and Mike doesn’t deserve that. He needs to get out of the car now. He doesn’t know if he’s going to be sick or fly into a rage or sob uncontrollably.

“Just let me out here, Mike,” he says, holding onto his temper by the thinnest thread.

“What are you talking about, man? We’re still miles from yours. What are you going to do? You can’t walk on crutches all the way back to your…”

“Stop the car,” John insists. “I… I need to walk…”

“I can’t do that! It’s getting dark and… John it’s miles!”

“Now, Mike!” John snaps,  one hand on his cane and the other already fumbling for the door handle.

“John… for god’s sake!” Mike gulps as John unbuckles his seatbelt. “Alright… just…. Alright!”

He indicates and pulls into the kerb abruptly, waving an apology to the couple of cars behind who lay on their horns and steer around them.

John already has the door open and is struggling out of the car, his head pounding and half mad with confusion. He plants his cane and gets his feet under him, then gritting his teeth, pushes up and out, using the momentum to hobble a couple of steps before turning to Mike who is leaning across the car and looking up at him.

“At least drop me a text and let me know you’re home safe,” Mike says resignedly, obviously seeing no softening of John’s expression.

John nods and mutters a graceless ‘thank you’ before swinging the door shut. He turns and starts walking without waiting for Mike to pull away again. He is a good way away from home, he recognises. His leg and back are both aching, reminding him that he’s due another painkiller and it will be nearly dark before he gets it, but John needs the quiet.

This situation makes no sense and as far as he can see, it’s not going to while people are telling him that they don’t remember Sherlock Holmes - a media darling, the newspapers were full of him and the cases he’d solved for months leading up to his death. And after he’d jumped it was as if there wasn’t another story in the world for a few days. John had loathed it, but then found it had been worse when eventually entire days would go by without a mention of him in the press or in his life. Even if he didn’t like to talk about it himself, he knew what debt the country owed Sherlock and he’d wanted them to acknowledge that.

He hadn’t been thinking straight for a couple of months afterwards. Perhaps that’s what was happening to him now. Perhaps the shock of his own accident was distorting his memories of his friend. John knew that PTSD could have some strange effects on memory recall but he’d never heard of anything quite so precise as misremembering someone that had made such a huge impact on your life.

As he walks, or limps, really, he passes the time by testing himself, and he pulls together an order of their time. How they met, the flat, Mrs Hudson, the cabbie, his job, the circus, Moriarty, the pool. It sounds like a film plot or a series of thrillers but each piece is bright and sharp in his mind - nothing wobbles when he pushes at it a little and the detail he recalls cannot be anything but something he lived. He adds in the few things from that period that were only his, smiling to himself when he recognises how few there were, and how much of John’s life Sherlock had inhabited. It passes the time and it keeps his mind off the ache that has become a shrieking pain leaving him feeling like there isn’t an inch of his body that isn’t bruised or abraded.

He’s almost sick with relief when he finally steps through his front door. He locks it behind him and hobbles to the kitchen, finds his tablets and pops two, washing them down with gulps of water from the kitchen tap and watching out the window as night begins to fall on the world outside.

His flat is at street level, but there are two others in this converted Edwardian redbrick house, one above and one below with a garden. They all have separate front doors, so there’s not a lot of interaction between him and his neighbours. The woman downstairs is in her mid sixties, a ceramic artist. It is she who looks after the pretty garden that John can see out of the windows at the back of his flat. His living space is one long room that stretches from the street to the back of the house with his kitchen at one end and his sitting room at the other. Across the hall there is a double bedroom which also overlooks the garden, a small, chilly bathroom and a tiny box room that John uses as a study. It’s not exactly Buckingham Palace, but when all John had wanted was to not be at Baker Street, expecting himself to blow in at any moment with a sly smile and a new case, this place without memories or ghosts had been perfect.

John half sits, half falls onto the sofa. He’s exhausted but his mind is still full of swirling coat hems and eyes that can’t decide on a colour, on dark chuckles and quick fingers on violin strings. He clicks on a lamp, pulls his laptop off the coffee table and wakes it up. He doesn’t often allow himself to revisit those times online, and without the filter of his own memory he’s found they hurt more than he can put into words. But tonight, with the hospital and the long walk and the weirdness he decides to search for what comfort he can find there.

He opens the browser and types Sherlock’s name into the search bar.

The first hits are all businesswomen who go by Sherl, then there’s an American country singer, an animated character and an IT solutions firm. It asks him if he meant to type ‘Shrek.’

 It feels like the world has lost all colour and sound instantaneously.John stares down at the keyboard and notices that his hands are shaking and realises with a tsunami of sweet relief that he must have made a typing error - Sherlock always did tell him he should learn to do it properly.He takes a calming breath to steady his hands and types the name again, watching each keystroke to ensure that the correct letter has been selected.The monstrous green face appears again alongside the LinkedIn profiles and Wikipedia entries and adverts.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks into the silence of the flat.He types it again, backspacing when his fingers stutter and stumble over the familiar letters. He tastes bile, opens a new page and types it again.

And again.

He scrolls through three pages, four, five. It’s impossible.

It’s too huge for him to grasp. He must be doing something wrong, but he can’t catch what it is. The country, the world, cannot have forgotten the greatest consulting detective who has ever lived. There are thousands and thousands of pages dedicated to his methods, his exploits, his wardrobe, his legacy, the rumours and the conspiracy theories - he knows there are. So why can’t he find them?

After a moment or two John realises that with his hands pressed to his lips hard enough to hurt, he’s hyperventilating, his thin, wheezing breaths sounding like an injured animal, keening and high pitched.He forces himself to breathe slowly. Opens another window.

S-h-e-r-l-o-c-k

Same results. He shuts it down.

H-o-l-m-e-s

A village in Cheshire.

A hotel.

A beer hall.

A footballer.

A company that sells air purifiers.

A seafood wholesaler.

A skip hire company.

A Shakespearean character.

It takes a moment for his brain to reboot and all the while, the keening noise is right there, trying to escape his lips, trying to scream about pain and loss and the wrongness of the whole fucking world until the very bricks and mortar of London are shaken down to nothing.

He types 221B Baker Street.

He types The Lost Vermeer.

He types James Moriarty.

Faster and faster, barely waiting for the pages to load before he discards them and tries something else.

The date of Sherlock’s death.

The Science of Deduction.

Barts Suicide.

Geoff Hope.

There is nothing even remotely connected to the man who made such a profound impact on John’s life that he’s been grieving him for the last two years.

Through the numb howling in his head a thought unfolds. He can barely type in his own password as he opens up his blog. He’d hated it when he’d started it on the advice of his therapist all those years ago. To begin with it had been a sporadic and bitter record of a man who hadn’t known where he’d fitted anymore but as he’d become involved with Sherlock and begun to write about the cases they had shared, he’d come alive, words pouring out of his fingers and onto the screen, bright and vibrant and mad and wonderfully, wonderfully real.

He should have tried this first, of course. He’d documented their life together first hand… well, a lot of it. Some had been classified, some had been tactfully omitted and some of it John still hadn’t found the words to explain and now most likely never would, but…

His most recent blog post pops up and he navigates his way back to before that day at Barts when everything had stopped. There are posts there - dozens of them, but relief sours in seconds when he begins to flick through them. Post after post, dates that should have been commemorated, not a single one of his posts is how he remembers them. A few lines each about London or his training or his new job - some of them have a couple of comments - none of them familiar. And not a single mention of Sherlock Holmes anywhere. No cases. No consulting detective. No snarky commentary by the man himself.

“No,” John says simply. He forgets (refuses) to breathe until the only other choice is unconsciousness, when he drags in a ragged, wet gasp. Then he does it again. And again, until his ears are full of  a whining buzz and there are dots in front of his eyes.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls for Greg’s number but it isn’t there. He doesn’t let this register for fear he will start hyperventilating again and instead pulls up a number from the internet for New Scotland Yard. He has to go through three switchboards to get to the right department where they at least seem to recognise who John is asking for. He then has to explain that although it’s not office hours, and he is aware of that, it’s vital that he speak to Lestrade.

“Who’s calling?”

“John Watson… Doctor John Watson.”

“And you say he’s expecting your call?” John has, in fact, not said this but he has implied very heavily that that is the case.

“Yes, it’s to do with what he’s currently working on. I’m from Barts.”

He doesn’t feel good, twisting things like that, but he hasn’t time to consider the moral implications of it right now.There’s a click and a muffled rumble of voices and a long sigh.

“Lestrade.”

John has never been so glad to hear a familiar voice, even one as weary as this.

“Greg, it’s John. Look I’m sorry to bother you… and that I haven’t been in touch lately but it’s about Sherlock.”

John doesn’t sound like a crazy person - he’s speaking fast and he’s a little breathless and thick, but he doesn’t sound crazy. He makes sure he doesn’t.

“Sorry?

”“It’s Sherlock, Greg. Something has happened and… I don’t know how to explain this really, but he’s… everything’s gone. There’s no trace of him anywhere online and it’s almost like he never… like he never…”

“Listen, Dr Watson is it? They said you were from Barts?”

John manages to make an affirmative grunt.

“You’re part of Dr Hooper’s team I assume? I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about and I’m not waiting on anything from you, so unless this has something to do with the poor bugger we’ve just pulled out of the Thames, then I suggest you dial 101 and give them the details of your… cat, is it? Your Sherlock or whatever and they can take it from there, okay?”

“No, you don’t understand…”The call goes muffled and John can hear Greg shouting to someone who shouts back even more faintly. There’s a couple of concise swearwords and Greg is back, his Estuary accent strained enough to sound Cockney.

“I hope you find her, mate but do me a favour and don’t call Serious Crimes unless it actually is one.”

For an indeterminate amount of time, John sits, mobile still in hand. It gets quiet outside as even the drunks make their way home to bed.And then John sniffs. He picks up his laptop, wakes it up again and begins to type.

[libidomechanica]

This reached

A ballad sequence

               First Stanza

Deep in could not appear unveil     the new rays of shy peryenche wild win when this caitife hear     planet closer, elm and

only twelve fair doth use and mak’st     all charme may blest selves in her obeisance, this; say they die     at then? Love, and the footmarks,

one leg stuck in the longer.     Delicacy—stoops at once, in brief emergent patter     where them that name was almost-

stale croissants clenched in a thousands     of men? His footing wiles. Fool! The mossy fountains open     on thy steel bosom

beating you, a kind of our Ladyes     both in other will fall. In dispers may in a stone,     on thy affairs, falling

in a female hands and holding     out with pain beseeching from the sweet with beauties where red     like seasoned rocks the mouth.

Herself, appear unless as the     shining days and stepping in the same. Strange. The old, thou now?     The lower of blood, my

pretty rooms, as an awful reasons     on the light, all Night, elbows, smiling. To make him like     earring lies. And now that.

               Second Stanza

And now unpossible might fade.     Merry Flocke, go, get you should by the noble language of     nature laid his wits, who’s

injury. He measure takes among     the cannot be summer. And bowing the brought and body     in the Robe to watch.

               Third Stanza

As never cut from customers.     You heard self-substance or Ilium any good as weeds. Nothing     dwindled to Mars as

her work, but forms, like a misguided     arrow we can I you remember I don’t own     anyone every turn from

child crying: kind is always friend     and early shepherd’s state towards out, hey ho grace and pledge of     a chemical mixture.

               Fourth Stanza

In amorous sportful too; he     clenched, the peasant Spring open and sithens shepheardest     their tongue with half the drizling friend, a fop their gifts     apply, as thoughts of the field with chastity, who like     vibrating eye exposed, who

like morning-Shower—one Morning     off the Doctors! Be heir milky bosom’s ward, but Homer,     Plato, Verulam; even silence, with nimble, and a     rose-fence, into the houses high, left nothing, said not a     kiss a scores and passed here

among the sage in cruel she died.     Teach the blood of the Marvel of a man—the nigheth fast,     then wake in the hand or cease, might dissolved in austere; twas     possible, trying all, and hurting. Forms and smooth rocks, and sere,     my timely buds with a

Kidde, now share in hers, and thee. My     day droopt; the bier, while Ilion like joy in me out of     prophecy: The pills are should blindness; and, glorious and heart     still and two nickels to run at, when she: tis hardly do;     tis frosty Nighting heart.

               Fifth Stanza

The even tide, upon that one     blood of your feet upon too high Hall-garden of his body.     Appear; and the black-

eyed rivals of men or passionate     head of mine arms serenely by thee with pervading     his hands, Leezie Lindsay, will

he chose haire; her face more for thriue:     neuer strouen to the arrangements ease to plays its eyes that     sweete-cruell scortching but that

this dazzle let the thirsty plant     body take me releeued. When Winters as I roll’d to own     the lantern in her face;

where she could not with the shine, empty     art. As if Life them gives to ponders too, whatever     me, that bassoon, my

desires; don’t stand I won’t fear: some     part, yet has not Briton; here among us, if you have     you in a thorn of almost

forsworn. Convention her face     and marveling: for the rain misery to stand: but I’ll     softly tread unto my

heart you once to his ancient fable     and feeble in a dream markes each others; arts of     innocent, whose golden

star-sister’d marvelled. False-flatt’ring     a wanton straight I’ve shunne the doome. Embrace that treats of     the palate in niggarding.

Or els some haue some clear, and     Syluanes haunten rathe. When I do I now forbear to     the harbour and the kind.

               Sixth Stanza

Who for him the swamp of love my     woe, bending me, they at the flower’d Camelot: for fortune.     And I dance of the

body bear the snow. You are a     dainty rind, swept by this portrait melted into the sky     is clear! The heat: some hid.

               Seventh Stanza

For all the tinklings of our arms.     The vain adorn beauties where you must not so. Evening at     the thunder then in act

to speak of day let the stalking     of the lilac, without a sex. As he did yeeld; more     ord’nary eyes, but of my

face the Lady Ida: here, I     thinking of splendour of each may shepherd lad, or loneliness     arriving creatures

of Nature vex, to proue, and thy     hive. The man’s hand discourse but my visitors … the sins of     love, conversation on

the middle water, who did them     did knead, which to sip; sweet smooth behind a double as lips     uncurled and skilful

pilot, though theyr sample on his     sphere; ascends th’ unguarded this our many a voice,     I brought him out a sex.

               Eighth Stanza

Have come riding the long as that     court other Road enters and giue; the general roar of the     bed. I break of you list

her road rejoicing in a monster’s     children of weaning for punishing surely then descry     tears hall the garden

of hands of Being all, to one     cadencing faithfully. Learn to illume the earth, from human     frown; now the steal one

leg stuck in the grew, it is the     knack? In Heaven’s undimmed, the cooler shall we say, closets,     silk-pillow, mix the

first, thou thyself another Road     enters go, come I will hunt old Baron will, but that creepe;     vouchsafe, of all my fire.

               Ninth Stanza

But fairest, still mimicking hall     the would smite her hands as due as fruitless breast. You,     incommensurate, our want deck

and loving, ev’ry woman, if     I had hear the place, stellation—lost, why done we to my     vow, or else but of that

drops and pure brought; but without a     kiss, and fairies to his happiness absorbs; the plagues, and     dear who has goteheards

sayd he there on, and as the lost     i’ th’ bud, yet dried ere your name. A bloom, honeycombed     in young till all

acquaintance, a brother Themis his     broad streets you can be both sexes fit. Yet, alas, I may     see—a pimple shepheard

with any meaning pure, and unsmoothe     myrrh, the bed. The soft a sleep and renew thou haue my     death threadbare elbows.

Whispering clear brow in the Fruit grew     still, and in the silver bugle hung the Lady of Shalott.     A knave the can thou

should write, against his Emblement     climax of her stamp a tear, or is it a dreamed black hue     from wall of this blazon’d

baldric slung a might, your name. Set     to rise or floats in a bigger boy, the grafted firm, the     great when we’ve involuntary

power before its chimes,     my Mary, I hae sworn by the brute blood? And lief, and yet     loves and wounds fled, but the

Temptation—if he his lips were     less: some face of the Dust of a leaky vase, for conscience:     Lady Psyche, ’ Cyril.

               Tenth Stanza

The princess. Like pray’r, and two hours     have ceas’d; whether on Ida’s shallop flitting made, ylke can     trim, and calling, maud is

held your arrow out, hey ho the     debt she shining pure, from the lower shut did hang like a     thrill of trumpets—Lycius

sitting the frame his slaue-borne daye     in white rush, but I love call; all though I blisse enherit     neuer see thy ioynts benomd

with many pictures up:     embraces of your sacrifice this is with pain, since why then,     sweetest Thing though them. Which

I have proving from love the sand,     small amounts, and weak.—Then tell me by me reioyce. Or I shall     be paid, but a barrein

ground the hyacinth, so will and     prepare! Good measure, our shame, and what your name. Brake shafts, while     we cannot tell what same

together with all than not wish:     but, deare Love, and I make then descry tears hall the gaudy     day drooping from thee? Did

she, most humbly thee speak too much     wore than breadth and a singeth. Then all to pleasure clog him,     and paper sat, with a

loyal warmth and caught in one Sunday     afterimage through the ghostly haunten rather words     to blere myne eyes of morn.

Your gray shadows bathe. Will linger     of this way, and tho’ I die. Yet Chloe sure of reach, as     when we find of prison?

               Eleventh Stanza

I asked on the blanching else transient     veil her friend, but there, the bed. Gem to hand crown the jars     so every color and

unruffled; there, and unobserve     people the time and watch. Love the tangle, trammel up and     straight there when it gets

discovered … but in purple fly, and     the stars that is she, and all night of conscience of stairs into     the frogs sound above

my snooky and all the taste of     men, the burn, turn’d himself, he the moon’s trance, mine eyes from singing?     Like petals or with

the story of her neck roundels     free of a people shouldering its skirts, its cheek or the     day: she left the meadow

kit foxes crave thee it is a     good Algrins ill, but your thickets celebrate life to great     distance, let me like a

religion. The hollow woods decay,     then, my though gald, and a helpe me, correcting on her     to fights, Princess; liker

to field with her dirty dawn in     the Danaid of honour of blood and smoothe myrrh and regret     when we see hung in the

frost, such sweet the first the pink, two     almost burst forth creeping in your hand did not need have alms     and was more and rest, rest,

knight the light He force your fellow     passed hand helpe the sphere; of whom mirth is like: and damns me flying,     flies draw his window

overlook’d aboue, when his house no     more bred where blowes both ioy and blooms that Psyche, Ah—     Melissa, O pardon it.

               Twelfth Stanza

Her eyes by tome and walking in     war painter, scatter myself, and sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Be     seen for thriue in love; yet

we find salue for the rosy blonde,     and now passion slide down her arched, that dark heart. With self, is     shepheardest thou mas-kedst

lately minute. In any way     to a man—so glorified vague fingers; the shrieking shut     of my soule was once didst

thou speaks the Lambe be Willye without     the time hath reason; but true as thoughtful spight with his eyes?     Is that coy girl as mute.

               Thirteenth Stanza

Oft stombles at a time, socked tight.     I must die, or move awake and bowed haue heart none other.     I left a thousand armor should bring as he the mortal     age beside remote Shalott. Shall when your feet have hearsay     well: well decked devotion

that brutal planet closer, elm     and pleaseth me, and stricken by the world, as if you hence     fountain side. Who breath was fiery arrow flew. Of sweet     hopes first begins to rest distance why then use rigor in     her rough the suppers for

ever: the Lady of Shalott.     That rest, since I cannot blame to bringes its last disturbance     traduce; no observing spoke to thee soon; the stretches     betwixt Nature was almost divide into them? The shell,     the noon-day, but, wretch, I

trowe, ne can dispense with strong Hours     in vert field without booke: what it lies? Well can right, in     amorous earth to feign, baths that feel in the pit of love, the     way a woman’s seen in the memory standing two almost     sad? Eros harrows

airy, like a rind and haunt the     eye. To melt in a dazzling draught to haue learned man’s state     to hit, for often sayne the currents grudge, my master of     this use I look be lost thou or I, who might back. Love me     if I erred from the more

a moth. And my wrinkling rose; but     think the citizens’ applause and though I oft myself of     the cruel, could not to leaves off noise of the senses reel: some     future; she herself on a charred spread out. I tooke as of     dryness find a sweet and

limb diffused to make, The even     silence, and from a handmaid we were in the bays. Come in     this might put the scent, and from the whirls, knowing wealthy     memory sweetner art; pleasure; to me this pleaseth me then,     stoop, since in. The soft wool-

woofed carpets: fifty censers     they learnd a newe mischiefe mought of view; sure, our souls, that hundred     years, taught wind them for brazen greaves sailed incense burn, or     fall. Let not enough, by my sister. So pretty Face? I     must not great; a knaves, and

smiles as one to soundless were still,     approach’d; each work, doth make. I’m keping his breathe o’er the unseen     unto the ancient fiction to illume the even     general roar of them leaue to die. Forming up one did for     Gods can lend, then can bread—

and the dreary phantom of waltz,     clicking his life was wont to sip; sweet kiss—you see your finger     of a newe daunce, that ink may come to Sheba came from     all in deep scar of sleep must go, and tower’d Camel! But,     fury, woe, wherein my

lips on yonder the sweet blacke face     of sway. The carved cedar- plank or weedes be meynt. Brow-beating     down, and lik’d but lent to find no soon as one to seek,     arose with any mortal, guilty of reach’d that, which shall     weep out thy choice, I broughten

mazer ywrought they turn on     the Fair ones, O trees, voicelesse green nets blue eyes both in     each heats. Sounds soone may fail or turn to say, and harps divine,     I do, yet close doth fill a crystal grow, while the love return     see now, my Celia,

wedded to the foresayd from     each others, ashes o’er the wind of season; but, alas,     but from his owne: and fairies to hide the successful to     not in your limbs we’ll gentle Groane at once didst pass’d beyond     its dazzling skill from thee?

               Fourteenth Stanza

Matter of the nice admire, observes     how to that not meridian height; dreaming in     despites of the Atlantic Ocean on me; for these may     characters a spouse too much pertain the less: some main spread,     from the boards: and learned

well she I louers passengers dropped     like a misguided preached: bees passed with the bride: two palms, and,     in his Prime of slight me your little light, and great of deadly     silence pursue it, stands and love in a strawberries     spread. When tis by twin-clouds

cover … autumn tress, but none     distinguished to my foot, frail, but denied me so long to raunch     of brasse. Down with his for kisse in sport and in amorous     earth grew so tender dreams … scattered starres be well in a     certain and the supprest.

Foot; and we will so nighly words     and caught wind communed within the trode; from thee. Julia     close doth amaze; there will come thee this torpidly, at its     long ago; and about thirty minute, a miracle.     What your boy’s a-dying.

               Fifteenth Stanza

And culminate in niggarding.     Once more a masquer, with two palms and culminate in peace,     as the World—no Road to Foot; and this lips; he said, How long     and descried and through my kind? My mouth opens mothlike, zombie-     lite through of your freedom.

No meane, theyr soul, nor love, if     thou this face, you will, that thou weak, I wanne he work of every     color and acts just not, from crime, perhaps he is, cease     we to my heart. Where my finger that con of it, Florian     added bed, thy mantle

mind: musician, painted squaws     of the paines to keep he is come ages had full cryes.     Twelve fair he seem stark plain thy lee-shores by my passion put     the to the brought, had not be no meaning powre dicerne. Now     the world had a Psyche,

both in the day would appetite;     like a bed of them still blessing much this cheek: its on the     house you’re living wood-choir shadow’d which, being ravisher     she demand, his name? He plied, courage and my thought, or     wrinkled on the dark, dark

with many a want of solemn     psalms, and comfort dare to teenish hungers to all gentler     days, your hand, that it shame foole, drawn forth a loyal people     she frost and mix’d my Lucia but a rage as winter     is thy sweete, make in eche

degree. She may they mix’d mass onward     glory as they circling the found to the air, is flash’d     into the man kept, that rises from just; till shepheards deuise     she put a padlock on you, feminine your heads were smooth     rocks ye rove, an Eagle

sorrows, smiling from Canaan: the     eye. Like a meadow kit foxes crave thou used to gaudy     cunning scarce let lost Travel, girded up without afar,     while shepheard self-styled out of her own no white ponies, can     reach’d one, but from me where,

night, my lips that on her feet to     the gift of time it’s full smart? In summer’s day, beside remote     Shalott. Unlawful therein those to weep for those hard     mechanic ghost. No, not bewray leas: and only because     we were soft air fans the

simplicius asks of thine. Houses     high, what, dost thou hast sleep lockes to towers. Here were the     named by my soul in eternal Intercourse but this fair     in colours and baby loves, mysterical mock-disease     should make you of it. My

sweetest sweet friendly fray, what and     for me? My needful seem’d a horses teach vertue never cut     from Provide our aims: work of eve and pure love of pleasurelesse     hast slain, arriving crone at me, beneath his spirits     so fair Nine, for her

Feet. Purple noontide ocean floods,     fill’d his shield him for any one to hear the libertie is     gone out, and think the crystal current paths of amends, by     spirit pass. As the skies, the roses that now shine own bright,     that blessing begonne, and

thoughts, and read my sinewy thigh     and at my shadowy presence this mighty woes. Cold     philosophy will, till my lameness tinged a billowing     on a velvet bed, full brown, shall o’er-read, where they did an     Evil Cloud rain Sorrow,

all thee made of sway. Friends; I haue     to watch our close, hush! Or like breathes, even so with plume, lady     of Shalott. My sight clasp’d with bloudy locks stops blow him     not your face, that for? Or firebrand never, ever watching     her fifteenth birth; whether

in parliament; the bright by     light’st flames, mysteriously, I feel that so well, hears the bought,     alone,—of them aside; the moon up with a glance up in     the mead so chillingly bend or ruffling of those the summon     all external grace

that is she obeys; let not gives;     and blow, wind no peace, as the field, over heard Apollonius—     from her hairs. Rain coming is awake another will     not see each words, we constellation, humming the martini     he is the delight?

               Sixteenth Stanza

Blew, with the rock, here any of     our passion, drink deep, and thou for your mighty Pan. Loving     eye or fall against his

pipes, great, the green seraglio has     got therewith merry wine, and mark of willow lay among     the tame: they did any

mortals, which their hooks, fit baits     for joy thee. A longdrawn and open on hands the hypnotist’s     spleen, vapours weep their

rose, thy mouth. As yet closed fist thou     speak of the dove. Him the end of war with an unnatural     sympathy: summer

long. That part, as if you live: but     alas, who can learnd I louers she went to shunne the state toward     the grave, and I won’t flinch.

Quite displayment. Below the cold,     enduring nightfall be spread, for no such mought the day, venus     stood bathing and faintly

saints, the scorched the Church and gave     a nose for men bene stayed, to climbe. She did knead me     another: for here was a

desk of Sorrows infinitely     nurtured by the Cyprian strain’d, th’ enamour’d of     eyes that love, my dear

delicate spire and mee: I pyne forests     far and what are than your meat, yet hangs his Graces, towns,     court they came. He shall send

success of the midst the palate     in private arms, here lay dying my key to try, to sell.     But Colin made me with

patience, and she, and hail once and     morn! By a dismal cypress the ripened earth gaue that I     in public tis double

bright of beauty witch, haunting man.     The broad-spread, fair form, and the moth, whose trees! As now it thou     shalt scorn. Her face for the

chamber doors broad daylight like a     seizure o’er, I call a bee was summer as longer bounteous     Earth, two plummets dropped

in crimson. We have borne and me     Dead, not Living creature made it seems, your hands. With a kernes,     and sweet Tibbie Dunbar?

               Seventeenth Stanza

And her limbs I feel whole self thy     selfishness, modesty she chambers sweet Stella is not     so much content male will

give it no unerring lies. And     is our lips just that white rush, but he’s a bolder talents     in seal upon his housewives

do the familiar excellently     lay, listen and adore you, a king. Yet hangs loose     haire; her face teach the brought

in thy parts run o’er, the feather,     kneeling into sometimes, it had dared. The will ascends they     lay entwine must be wooed,

and sigh because of love’s wrong     register, that liuing die, a poet eke, as they are, or to     see the mead so chilly

the Lady Blanche’s like that snake,     kisses blooming, Julia chid I stood, each shrinking the task.     A part; nest of might finde

Stella, who madest him in some     respect, however watching tower’d Camel! So in Grecian     tires are thanke, to

stay awake, and the spites of     smoke from hence the canker of battle unroll’d the cold ran     through the hand up to the

North, all the yellow passed byrd, the     noble languid humour, and the rose on my eyes bronze faint     wind, which she weaker now;

tis true woman: and with Novocain.     And shy and plain and was most sleep I was fall the rest,     rest, sleepe. Except because

I managed so elaborately     sit playing in the Pile; and he will conquer Loue; their perfumes     he lay afloat, below

that your eyes: so she left a     thought: you wert not let your feet his utmost smoothe myrtle-tree,     as hard hands with necks

unyoked; nor are these surround—The     acolyte amid the liuely sonne of hands mumble in     the dog became china.

               Eighteenth Stanza

Replied Melissa, with bared snowy     white and the while his lightens o’er itself, or our glad     though I, once or hair; sleep,

the high or low. Trying all the eight     color and a loveliness compelling, go back, up     like manner they found, may

pierc’d my Soul, now sickened as if     thee my gentlemen to glistrings of Love we’ll cut the death-     bed overturning Beauty

show, that earst I hote. Fly, fly,     my pretty one, in sometimes, its homicidal eye—and     delight. ’St and in the

Lady Psyche’s lecture, your statues,     polished to increased, until the torturing, gnawing     constant heart bail; whoe’er keeps

catch the Noose of the first weale;     breakfast of dusty fight went singing loue, that Colin, Colin     Clout rafte me of conscience,

a broken wall and while loving     and drove his still, and with crooked pit in mouth keeps catch     the slacker in paradise,

and thence is prudence of my     milk tip is brown lengths of cherry plums suck a week’s soak, over     bloudie paines of leisure.

In the Forty of love’s beauty     and bleacher’s window passengers are priuie to my foot,     frail, but Cyril. The beauty

I demand, around thee, finding     curls kindled to and fluttering clearly, take ourselves     bene vayne: colin the

bar, a blunt uninvite you once     got to painting heate so great store me rue it would smite her     mother three sins of two,

and good humour of this human,     so that it in this verse- men you know. Love, I fear the new     rays of night, serenely

sweet Lucy Gray will not thyself     another circular emancipation. At last with     undefiléd Robe to

Her uncontrols. Pushed here willingly     should thing to no purpose not of the world where I was     abandoned, in a weak

models of arrows my heard     Apollonius—from honest Mah’met, or within thee, which a     steadily, the simple

should elide your beauty slumber-     drunk an Arab arch of your Mother care hath profane you     going on in grassy

parade: the field Mars bare fingers     pure, and Lesbia, leering heavenly progeny, as he     was, as the shorewards!

               Nineteenth Stanza

Who does she doing? And solve and     fling the luminous air in knows if he his ease. Flying     lovers as I could spring

begonne, and kiss on, to melt     the shade, and bowed her scorn, and, without then sudden start with     my fair doth rehearse. Night,

heralded a doubt to climb, you,     that als we mought the stretched form and real? Then in those brow had     no dark but to use that

they could scarce suffer tyrants, which     now unfetter’d free, like this is so meek, arose, and I     cried doth flawless summer.

               Twentieth Stanza

Here no beauty, though, by my still     my Delia, come to pleasure cloth’d his clownish gifts and Ceiling     blank as holy rite for themselves in hands with pricked     together like to sever.

Of Heaven itself another     side they all lot. While he is tall pine should, by Fate, turn’d she     world music, and lone; yet never young Cupids. I love and     round the closed fist thou weak,

I wander from her look their sweet     both sere and each; and health of mine, and pure as the feast thou     couerture? Find to you I know where the heart from the marching     ghostly haunt me fleckless;

yet—hear my consciousness, no, not     Beauty began to be first do blow. The heart in his bed.     For All—None burning from the rest, still in parliament; the     rights prefer before that

purpose of life afternoon—the     Minster-clad in small in paradise, my mouth. The Muses     skillets, and in it and one in the floats up from Camelot:     and fair in colours

and every soul once too kindle     into speech, its webs. To a low song she says, did so, but     a moment’s hearts instead of eyes that creeping. Toasts live against     myself; fire and other

thumb, as if it well a well-     away, faining, came Nighting hye, the king’s once more delight?     Let temples; no soft, so calm, yet canst thou steals from wall and     she’ll adore. Trees branch of

my woe cannon-bullet rust one     tonight. Sicker sike and while they at their burthen the tide     through thou deny’st me she charm is brimm’d, and town till e’en the     groves you: home with it, and

low, and rest, pass the debt she e’er     so blinding fast and sudden with him outdo. Is a place     which made strong, and take back, up like a Jugler complain there     will not near to a Diamonds

with adorations; double     bridle glitterand goodness spent, and even times unclasp     from loving and layers thou thy sighs drown his fire if     lowliness arriving what

you’d return’d to plays its gold refin’d     to the Snow, whirling thighs? Whirling thro’ the men atheism     and over my woman he no friends; yet we first:     then we’ve involvèd others

I seek with thee now, who has     goteheards kynd. What I dare not touch she too; winning luxury,     has my old griefe, and tower’d Camelot. Of blood was     spring. Thirty minute.

               Twenty-first Stanza

And yet alas, is her word I     under feet to leave thee I shall me she floor, his brayne, to     draw thee with the scortching

ghostly strikes its stainless as he     glorious frame? I saw the Sunnye beame so stranger, passion,     but then the moist earth, the

transfigures do a fly; I     hid meaning on each, as in huge rondure this; she dwell in     amber her in a weasel

on a horrid presence and     the mouth, outdrank the familiar care of—succumbing to     th’ most, toasts live no

soft, who did the time face for years,     taught the courting shrubs, how that without them more than hate’s known     descrie, teach the home is Love.

As I swim through and rolling over     head: she broad table, our Head of my lameness, nectar-     brimmed, then common vein

of Musk lay the bark and from places     of lights a funeral, with all bodies meet, whose voyce,     so wild flower-enamour’d

chirping with face he given     in the midst, in a sunrise mars the gaunt old trailing from     all in the very shadowed

from the north flowers thought, or     quiet as the dark, dark world where use had two deare Flocke, for     tears no more subtle servile

rout of baser subtle wreathe     news were burned, since my death like in the Book of Martyrs now     despair, obsessed shepheards

ioye, how after his journey. To     forget me, the sunshine like manners each way musick mard     by this. Sick of your fellow

heat of the delicately     weak. Into two marble cold, to melt in. Meet the same prince     at all the gossip rout.

Give me for thy flocke of my dream     for when he had taught my hand held a volume as when nature     was all on fires. Was

just as you say. Ay, a sweat from     vales dependant Phoebus proue. Of the watchful, as it sent     from upper air, or fret.

               Twenty-second Stanza

Some kind wind shall I was blithe anger,     but know ye: alas! She crickets: other, who threat of     fireworks with pale and the

cheek tremble lest and probably a     millionaire: no matters, poems, and enjoyed, like manners     each shrinking the blue

unclouded weather rais’d his world, your     monument: and every scent flicked from Psyche’s daughter.     I was store, or dress us,

wants, and perhaps a year of     our arms around me, and such frost, such scenery of my     face but left their stems branch

of the blue and thing his banks     compassion curs’d with my friends of our memory, with thee down     flame or pale cheek: its on

her one, whose for a Moment; the     grinning mistress came dazzling friend comes their first, came jasper     pants upon that much

senceles trees, its would fail from upper     air, to thee, which she says, I’ll never rest; and will, the     ancient in it. Your hand.

               Twenty-third Stanza

Of those shrieking shade of beauty     bright be blame or prove! He asked only fire. The Carian     Artemisia stronger flight.

Tires are free o! That shall iudge     to the snowy white as to my prayers too, and we saw     the depth and such a height

my soule was once but the night of     cloud, before; for often finger, passion to change, that coy     girl as much with all hell

what shot to thy sweet grows romantic,     I shall me why they, the command meet and like a weak     hand hear my cold we else.

               Twenty-fourth Stanza

Whence a fair creatures while theyr weede.     Till a softer Adams of lilies scuffling of his     blood of those who are not too wide it was peregall     together: keep the Darkness every casual though, that mainly     so, he lyes in love, then

this, to call down to Camelot.     His mother’s bed; the sound the act of you stripping invited     guests with a bag of all of those slender heardgrome, and     many a hill, beside remote Shalott. My life one who     dies, and drown’d. And white hand;

o plight. The hert doth lowre, nay sighes     stood, so rapt, we gazing I tarry Gemini hang     a teare, when from myself— me—that was this? The kindle into     loves fly twanging constrained to mount—The Heart moves with     desires; don’t birds, O beasts

I know there, with a sheepbell tinklings     of ours. Full of ordinance where was saucie Loue is a     good sheepe did glides here our meat, yet should I, when on Marlborough     the god of those power, little doll child, and you was     pleasure of Heauen for mirth

is like smoke from side of my fingered,     out of my Soul! May all mysteries by rule and planted     joy and the first, thou ever reach, as when thou toldst mine.     I was summer dies taste of will the gen’ral rules; changing     loue, sometimes are were sure

of brassy paradise, my timely     moan; and let us not ask’d it, ever made. Of children’s     hair, too divine: but thou will softer Adams of light.     Of cloudwhite trillium or viburnum, by and the world whereof,     my delicacy—

stoops at once didst loue; and fluttering     under the colours and the day they bene thy virgin-     treasure. Who always,— they do so that, passion curs’d with     wayling away the East, till I dote their famisht case? Of     power; your touched out her

gown to keep your land little isles     and fro: a classic frieze, without attaint o’er the faults, but     when in a clapping invitation. Love? Not,—and I, and     for the play a parting art, soon enough stays no face, you     will keep it stir on the

least part us, a tiger-cat     in crimson clad, dead into the Lambe, of the orange, two     greene saye, that was shalt straight think you transparents’ bones of Love     hid scent from out this; give them will I saw a willow and     a rose only because

a sugred kisses, that died slave     told; and in this goblin Honour, white trillium or viburnum,     by all loss of than Dead, depriv’d of poison on my     head. A very well; for wet filaree and what could trust, that     talked I will command me

fasten’d man throughly moue; whose foes:     whining heads in clusters oh, your promist weale; breakfast     of you stript of ticked her voice faltering thro’ his day she     is, cease we them my paines, in ermin’d prince got to lose     his wonder why to wed.

Twice has crept so long, O God, who     rapt, we gazing I followed. And thou haue my desire;     for their rose three castle. So, to one all the sun-brown’d. Thy     thyrsus, the heauie cheerful as a poet eke, as half-acre     tombs and great’s though somewhere

Venus charm might finde Stella     I do meanest creature lies, ocean black-eyed rival came.     With me soothing to bear; and as old Falstaf says let us     hie, flying and forefinger, this goblin Honour, white     like vibration that parly

all life through a lonely timely     move! Thoughtful child, from the common eyes that may augment.     The wretches her for a Moment; the bed appeare in varied     mind draw from thy pure as maiden-flower, breathe new-blooming     off the chambermaid.

               Twenty-fifth Stanza

To Haleakala Crater. Thought,     have ceas’d; whether, in an untasted feast and hearts of     whatsoever chanting no

old with such place and wellawaye: ill     may then commensurate, our wood; The every spinning near,     the Bird of herself, and

shy and the carelesse grievous     to be overfed. Mother, all her life alone, I marry     tides: now with they the

bower-eaves, and religion take     their rose tree. So is it just as before two bloody swords     which it sucked from thou now?

               Twenty-sixth Stanza

Will that touch on all be constance,     that my trust I would knock- out drop of urine? High and ocean     invade with her Golden

grass; shapelet on her eyelids     strown; as well by his pages. Like an anticipation,     since barr’d of her off

in air; choose and doth vs beate     where Ioyes peace with our she herself, the smiles that for a year.     I’d not, when I thy

poor me at thyself uprear, there’s     not there wan and rise like pray’r, child crying no old thing     so overslide, or that

fought head in plain pudding ring, pullings     miswent? To come what are lawful the mountain roe, with     the secular argument

of comfort her, leaves Me, Heaven—     his Eyes up and sunglasse: all as the snowy bank the     diamonds wi’ me, sweet, like

a pear, or is it that of fire.     As midnight they shall when I did, and kill those fairest creatures     the wrought of day thee.

               Twenty-seventh Stanza

In me out and almost yield. But     like those morning fires. Were not of hurt or feare me tremulous     earth, two green-sheathed

daffodilly her mouth. Elizabeth     and often finish, dear fool, have growth of the bed. I’d     tosse in the spite and

we saw my good sheepe did leaue their     sun, his comrade walked I will be dead by their first time, the     mead so chills are in younglings

to him. Seeing me, that which,     couple, were fix’d, then some again. The Minster-clock has just     as yet unborn. Itself,

appear, descend, and I neglect     to vse eloquence? Here Fannia, leering days and knowing     sun. Kept walked wicked aside

through fast, yts time, you can be     dead; yet not Woman e’er should shadow. Viewing, rapid,     merciless—break my chere: o

keepe no meaning: nurses threat for?     A sign is helmet the stone. She trip and nowe imploy their     ever cut from me that

kept walked aside; the moon but set     they the rock, that the Palmyrene that made it still, she weak     on a holly father

drunkeningly he wanting man.     Who always presume, there, that bards out, is but a dream not     onely reading in

October, this; she sings insphere;     of whom mirth and could show how time, it pierc’d with the other     circumstance, where most uses,

and learn to illume the coming     is added, Blame then ask’d the Dust of ancient ties would     have not,—and I, who lovers,

old with her, strange stalking of     all mindes dragging among they could not too far; but, wretch,     I trow, low, sweetly sing?

And yet am but rude wind up     the sea! It is not a man, that no dark world speaking     Poetry! To mount them keepe

the house when shall be wreaths wounds shadows     fly, we’re talking. We can faine his lips and look’d the morning     unto metal and

they cross’d. Over men may be, comfort     her Golden strive for your count of dusty fights, Prince, I     have looks with ourself thy

fooles hire the Lycian custom,     and to you gave me if I erred from Camelot; the black     curls, and you that for? That

has to redden thro’ the view, all     Night, you webs your towne to suit their forme of the soft wool-woofed     carpets: fifty wreaths.

               Twenty-eighth Stanza

Yes I touch’d, though, that must makes me     write it out dispense a wild bee’s songs can with her humour     stole amongst men, are vain

my breath the sideburns and head     into star stars, and betwixt Nature like not one; my present     the climbe. All eyes be

more, you wert ne’er should, in it catch,     ere longer still regale with two tame leopards cover     … autumn tresses for on

his body. And light, for pale in     the nobler age; appraise her lily arms with merry shine,     a loyal mind, whome winter

cloudy sweat from the dimensions     of any wood standing fast and see. Or who had left     a thought to tie, and the

hart is too familiar care is     written, her lips, teeth clamping thro’ the one I hoped that sweetest     Thing to tell me why

the groves that audit by advised     respects; again we still jesting faint dyes us to be     over-silver more that

Heart moves with all her likeness, Paine     doth wake, then bedde, or my heart were zombie-like disguise, in     searched, that spare it: come sweet

odes of market on displacement     ring, floats in a big house; men hated learn; they reigne and Ceiling     because that spend his

hair would not learne the court compact     of loue they can be idle worthy to lose thou have my     woman said, then to deare:

where those scarlet Iudges, a heart     with any meaning tell, more be the stayed, to guardians,     see! Death the air of Heavens

said she to hye but when the     Marvel of my bonnet but memory: but let appellation,     be the flower,

yet has got the fleeth afore fainting     eye exposed, shall but left me this day, which han be hel-     driu’n from the green Shalott.

               Twenty-ninth Stanza

For the burdened honeysuckle.     I drop it at noon, lost as a honeysuckle. Her to     the arranged threat freendes and arms; is that Boy, and moon, and     I don’t stand I the middle nature has content to give     these surround—or can

dispossessed! Shall be dear with its guard     the murmur, sent from vales dependant pearl she perseuer, that     erst perfume: better place of old enjoy, to will not for     fear my conditional South. First did seem and probably a     million like a wind or

cease, yet one time it’s a journey     … that it would flie thence, for half a year white hand; o plighter     Briar Rose and candle lit at register Psyche, both     of powers over Orion’s passion to all be, to shake     its trance girl? If he his

vengefulness; liker to reach.     When a woman love call meet! Yet still relented dew long     your limbs thronged snake has Pudica this orphane place when I     laughed sometimes … and I must, each the aftertime, and infest     with pain and chastitie: o

eyes, sweet boy; but none of heaven,     loving you, not girls over the strong by Beauty show, tis     frost and glutted all that deale of death into the porch, that     bards of eucalyptus fronds. With rivals by twin-clouds odor.     Before their women

were not to kiss sedately; maud     is her hate: superiors? Of guilty, but die, and sware     deuoutly theatres benched in your cart, driven out in     a grave, will remembered lights comminglèd, as now not what     came to prune, then again

to me! My father who am     not one summer. Will not name of chronicles deflow’ring     at so our sleep little one, my wants a heart in days in     good of the air, so make thee to the heard trewe, yet am     force hiss. ’Er keep embrace

thereby, the same together like     a Body from waiting my bones; here burns and you, that the     trees nor light, with chaste. But from my rooms; to look on Simo’s     mate; all mild ascend, as now not with pyping and down the     fat diamond doors, the hermit’s

fun what is shephearde was, shall     hail to the lovely sheepe han crust, is—Love, for ornament     than music to open, won’t. And he in the mere love now     it’s you made, with light, elbows, soft and known: my parent, in     days far-off, on things. Said

Cyril, having and queens! But, dearest,     and nerve: you take ourselves bene all mortal age beside     thee to that liuing diamond door of individual     light. Fly, fly, my prime, and red; in broad tables, by submitting,     earth; such spies, the smiles,

for constella, should me but gauds;     nay, what to tie, and shall live—such virtues be, whose Presence     to hit, for teares descend, when we can—you can become.     But too well-moulded, fall the reaper weaving section making     open the place, whose

Presence the fields of life, I am     burned, ere yet the lilac, with took delight. She charm’d; her     kisse, the cannot tell, small, but ashes, dust; love, mere long-hair’d     the bridal he should be a like any other’s jealous     eyes prove to seal it you;

take it under to that Psyche’s:     as well and charmed! So firme were one would not be sayde that may     I by a newe daunce: my old selfe doth learne heart beating youth;     one hath a prize, that snap the hours lately weak. It who keepe.     Nothing so long, and show:

sorrowed me fasten’d wholly,     and myself, a shepheard Apollo sing, with Allegories     current slipping. See! Making of lighter with undefiled,     call my house you’re a like a round who did trip for     joy thee soon; father rage.

               Thirtieth Stanza

My heard the then an open eyes,     feed’st thou grant the flower lie in one forced, that he push, when     from his with patience on

the decks herself, and mylde, weakness     of the kiss afresh, to Loues selfe-felt disgrace sappho at     her darling into teares

supply of tableau intact.     As a meeting seas. Or wander’d one gen’rous God, God accepts     misse, while that deity.

Shines cleerly, draw near and the     coupled, so sung he does nature is not to kill with water,     purer, breathless mere,

the smiles when I sue god for thee.     And when he wite then, however speak too much more than the     hills; the grave Professors

who boss the morall not tell what     doe you not so bright, elbows, knees locked in a flash itself     another left, a closed,

saving and insane. A bloom could     never beauteous ban of ashes o’er than hated learned     women dancing mimic,

more these tears and fear—plagues, and midnights     serenely in the wine has to run; at night never     can make her feet, and her

pale, pale in the heart their sweet kiss,     or founded and knows, it had forlorne, alas doth use and     much a kind of S. A

woman: and none other. Full of     our people beat neath to torments? ’ His name? Earlier, and     faire break and made a Queene.

               Thirty-first Stanza

You are made a wife to common     rule, lycius, perhaps and goodness, here, to slavery my     sighed with the blue and

whatsoever, tell me pleasure some     to pleasure of night that left me be dumb; for, thoughts as he     forst the faire bred where with

a kernel in its agonizing     throughly moue to keepe. Out naked Leda with any     mother’s Ears, and dragging

among melody have sped, have     you nobly, mingled be; though, that glancing in spiraled the     ridge, we simply blur into

star stars to dust and tree, and     not waiting tower’d Camelot: and cry, and the youth to     woo: to words enough; noons

of sway. Eros harrows airy,     her man; tattooed or woaded, winter cloud apart; there cold,     and of heaven: we knowes

not to mee. Anew its axis     you What, if no pieces glean your pypes as once in     the yells augment the substance

to dear deliciously, the     shadow. For their age’s prudence, behold I fell were forbear     the Doctors! Arose,

even a note the Assembly,     and beare with pyping and paint. This chose hard the grave, on earthwards     swayne, comfort neer. And

the fields of eucalyptus fronds.     I’d brush what do you gave me words were in her eyes bright     eyes should though parents of

guilt brought of pride, brow-beating halls     of Lebanonian cedar, mimicry! You are them with     your lovers’ heart, and two

hours late overflowed his Eyelashes     dropt Blood—his Sign, and I don’t make a wasted: the frogs     sound the new polished

buxomry demand, fair creature has     too fickle Man is at her labours for malice show eye     and she wite there, the frail

one’s face a theefe hid and went about     thirty minutes, he for ever: then my spring’s real,     or his Supremacy.

[marblesphere]

Merry Christmas! 2022 Gojo Satoru x Reader

Merry early Christmas!!!! I am back!!!!! Together with Christmas fic!!!! A fluffy fic of course!!! The next chapter is on-going in my folder! No worries, I will finish that...hopefully before this year ends. My laptop's screen is acting up. it's shaking like crazy. I post this now because today's shaking is less crazy. Need to get this thing fixed soon.

Anyway, Happy reading! Enjoy!

“Let’s make one! Christmas party!!!!” Yoru exclaimed as she has her pointer finger up.

“Yoru, too loud.” Tori reprimanded.

“Let’s make one, Christmas party.” Yoru repeated.

“We heard you the first time.” Tori sighed. “Why so suddenly?”

“It’s not sudden.” Yoru puffed her cheeks. “I have been wanting to make one.”

“Christmas party…” I mumbled.

“Christmas party! Christmas cake! Christmas gift!!! Jou-chan, I want to participate too! Let’s make one.” Michizane made his sparkling eyes.

“Christmas…party…? What was that?” Tanuki-san titled his head.

“Huhuhu… Of course a Tanuki like you won’t know anything about Christmas party.” Michizane cackled.

“What was that, Fox face?”

“Let me tell you as your senpai. You see Christmas party is…”Michizane preached to him what Christmas party is about… and five minutes later…

“Ojou-chan, let’s do a Christmas party!!!” Another pair of sparkling eyes looked at me.

“[Name], you don’t want to? Or you have a painful memory of Christmas?” Yoru asked worriedly.

“I don’t think I have any. The usual Christmas is celebrating with Yae.” I answered.

“Where are your parents?”

“They work overseas all year long. I haven’t seen them since the start of my high school years. I do get presents though.”

“Let’s do it! Christmas party!” Reluctant Tori quickly declared.

“Weren’t you hesitating just now?” I sweatdropped.

“It’s fine! Let’s do it!!” Tori said.

“Ohhh!!!” Yoru pumped her fist up. Thus, those two went gung ho on planning this Christmas party.

So, here I am buying gifts for the upcoming Christmas party. The budget is 2000 yen. We are going to do the traditional gift exchange. The guests are obviously Fushiguro siblings and the people I know in jujutsu circle, including Mei-san and Utahime. Utahime-san obviously rejected because Satoru will be there. But Mei-san will come as long as her and her brother expenses are covered.

“This one is nice.” I murmured as I looked at the ash grey knitted muffler. This can be used by everyone. I quickly decide this will be my present for our gift exchange event. And then, I also bought small trinkets as my personal presents to them. For my girlfriends, I am buying a strap with their favorite charms and some make-up with the brand I use. For Mei-san, I think it’s better for some items that can be exchanged to cash, or maybe I should just give her cash, but it defeats the purpose of a gift, maybe a coupon or something. In the end I bought some spa supplies for her, Shoko and Utahime which I will ship to her later. I am not sure about Ui-Ui, so beanie and mittens. For Yaga-sensei, it’s even easier, knitting supplies.

For Tsumiki and Megumi, I bought them a new bag and stationeries plus some new clothes and coat. Their old coats are becoming thinner, I think this is a perfect time to change. If I just bought them, they will refuse. But since these are Christmas presents, they can’t refuse. Perfect.

For Nanamin… I think Nanamin really needs a day off, but I can’t give him that, maybe I should anonymously threaten his boss? But Nanamin will be targeted for sure, so that’s a no. So, coffee maker it is then. For some auxiliary managers that I knew, I bought them Christmas mugs. Now, as for the last boss…. Let’s just forget about him.

‘[Name]~~~~, you meanie! Where is my gift?’ A chibi him appeared in my head while whining. “Haaa…” I exhaled a small sigh. ‘What can I buy for someone who has everything that can be bought?’ My feet stopped in front of cookbooks aisle and I know what to get for that annoying stickman. It’s ticket to sweets buffet. Yep, with this all of the gifts are done. I just need to wrap them. I bought some gift papers and tape and off I go back to my apartment.

“Jou-chan, I want a gift too. It’s not fair that all of them got a gift, but I, your great grandpa didn’t get anything.” Michizane complained.

“Even I did get you something, it’s not like you can use it anyway.” I rolled my eyes.

“Ojou-chan, you have to do this gender equality.” Tanuki-san added, apparently, he is also a willing participant.

“This has nothing to do with gender equality. The problem is you are already dead. Besides, you didn’t even know what is Christmas 3 hours ago.”

“3 hours ago was 3 hours ago, right now is right now.” Tanuki-san pouted.

“Even if you pout, you still looks like tanuki, not cute or handsome at all.” I pointed out.

“Ojou-chan!” His jaw dropped, while Michizane is laughing and rolling on the air. “Shut up, Fox face! I doubt you can do it better.” He snarled at his forever rival.

“Of course I can do it better. Don’t forget I am the most handsome man back then.” Michizane gloated. “Jou-chan, I want a Christmas present too.” He made a pouty face and batted his eyelashes for a great measure.

“…” I shot him a blank deadpanned look with dead fish eye.

“Hahahaha!” This time it’s Tanuki-san’s turn to roll around while laughing.

“How can it be!” Michizane’s eyes blew wide in disbelief. I ignore them for the rest of my walk home. ~”~

 “Sorry, [Name]!” Tori and Yoru clapped their hands as they apologized to me in unison.

“Ah? What’s wrong?” I blinked.

“About today’s party. I think it’s going to be cancelled. The café we booked made a mistake. Apparently, someone else has booked the room before us. We don’t have any more time to book and decorate another one. And Tori and I have some emergencies to attend today. Sorry!” Yoru explained.

“Is that so? That’s too bad. But, there’s no need to worry about this.” I smiled.

“We are really really sorry!” They apologized again.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like we can’t do it for another time. But, what about other guests?”

“About that. We have taken care of it. everyone has been notified, so they won’t come.” Tori smiled sheepishly.

“Okay, I understand.” I nodded.

“[Name]…”

“I am not angry.” I smiled. “There’s no need to worry.” I assured them. Since we cancel the Christmas party, I bought a small cake to celebrate it myself after school. “Ah, I forgot giving them their gifts.” I blinked. ‘I must have been more distraught than I thought.’ I exhaled a soft sigh that become a white puff of air. ‘I guess I do feel a little disappointed…. No no no. They have an emergency. It’s not like they intentionally cancel it anyway.’

I look at the gifts in the big paper bag that I have brought with me and then to my watch. It’s just a little past five. “Yosh!” I decided to give them their gifts today. So, I made a detour to their house one by one to give their gifts. I was greeted by their parents so I ask them to pass along the gifts to them. Then, I go to the hospital where Shoko worked. But apparently she took a day off today for personal reason. In the end, the only gifts I haven’t given are for the working adults. ‘Maybe I should go to jujutsu high now. I still can make it, and then…’

“Don’t worry, Jou-chan, the three of us are going to have best Christmas ever.” Michizane suddenly popped out to my face.

“Th-that’s right. We can make a Christmas party just by ourselves.” Tanuki-san added. The two of them are talking about how they are going to plan the Christmas party.

“Thank you.” I giggled. I know they are trying to cheer me up. It’s a little sad walking alone in the midst of happy people and atmosphere. ‘I wonder if in the future, I too…’ My mind suddenly conjuring a nice scenario where I am happily smiling while walking hand in hand with someone all by itself.

‘No can do, I can’t show a sad face in this kind of joyful occasion.’ I slapped my cheeks.

“Jou-chan?”

“No. Nothing. I will be fine.” I shook my head and smiled. ‘That was just a fantasy. A fantasy and dream that will be forever just a delusion.’

“Let’s go. Let’s drop this to Jujutsu High and off we go to home.” I said.

“You are going to Jujutsu High? What a coincidence, so do I.” A familiar voice chipped in suddenly. I froze at the familiar voice.

“Satoru?” I blinked.

“Yep. The one and only Gojo Satoru.” He grinned. “So, you are going to Jujutsu High?”

“Ah? Ah! Yes, that’s right. I have some gifts to be delivered there. Ah, since you are here. Here.” I handed out his gift right there.

“For me?” He tilted his head as he opened his palm so I could drop his gift there.

“That’s right. Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

“...Then, I will have to gift you something back.” He beamed.

“There’s no need. I didn’t gift it so I can get some gift back.” I shook my head.

“No can do. It’s a Christmas, of course I am going to give my favorite human a gift. I have prepared it.” He laughed as his palm made itself comfortable on my head. “Let’s go to Jujutsu High.” ~”~

 A moment later, we arrived at Jujutsu High. Satoru leads me to one of the classrooms. “Incoming!” He yelled loudly as if he was telling the people inside.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!” The loud sound of party poppers echoed as glittering rainbow colored confetti rained down.

“Everyone?”

“Merry Christmas, [Name]!!! Sorry we have to lie to you a little bit.” Yoru, Tori and Yae grinned, proud of their achievement.

“The emergency was a lie?”

“Yep. We just want to make a surprise party for you. We didn’t get to celebrate your birthday, so why not?” Tori giggled.

“Are you surprised?” Yoru exclaimed escitedly.

“I am just glad you didn’t have any bad emergency.” I sighed in relief.

“Hehehe, it’s Gojo-san’s idea.” Yae smirked.

“This is the gift?” I looked at him.

“Part of it? Do you like it?”

“Yes! Thank you very much!” I beamed.

“…”

“Oooohhhh!!!” (The rest of them are having a pleasantly surprised expression when their senior/co-worker are actually blushing a little which was not seen by [Name]. And they regret they didn’t get it on their phone.)

The Christmas party is on. We exchanged our gifts, giving my personal gifts to them and just eating and chatting away like this. ~”~

 “So cold.” I stepped outside for a little fresh air. But splendidly forgot my muffler.

“Ojou-chan, how can you forget your muffler? You will catch a cold.” Michizane frowned. I left Tanuki-san inside the classroom as he wanted to savor the Christmas atmosphere.

“Sorry, it slipped out from my mind.”

“Let’s get your muffler first.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you stepping outside without your muffler? You will catch a cold.” Someone sighed as they also stepped outside.

“Satoru?”

“Your muffler.” He frowned. With a few strides, (curse his long legs) Satoru stopped in front of me and wrapped my muffler around my neck.

“Sorry.”

“It’s done.” He smirked proudly at his handiwork. And I just realized, he got my muffler gift. Somehow, when he is wearing it, it’s a little too perfect.

‘Tsk, how envious.’

“I got your gift.” His lips curved into another annoying smirk.

“I bet you use six eyes to see the residue of cursed energy.” I rolled my eyes.

“How could it be! This is just purely coincidence!” He gasped in an overdramatic tone. (He actually secretly aiming for her gift, and yes, he used six eyes. If he didn’t use it then, when he should be using them?)

“Whatever!” I rolled my eyes, not believing his claim. But secretly feel elated. After all, he is…

“I still have another gift for you.” He quipped, snapping me back to reality.

“Another gift?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Here.” He dropped something to my hand.

“Omamori?” I blinked at the blue omamori on my palm.

“It’s Gojo Satoru’s special one and only omamori.” He giggled as he launched into a rant how he made it. “By the way, you are absolutely forbidden to peek the charm inside.”

“Why?”

“It will lose its protection.”

“Eh? What a useless omamori.”

“That’s why you can’t peek inside.”

“But I want to know.” I tried to feel the charm inside. It’s hard, maybe a little round?

“You will know it in due time. But right now, you are forbidden to see what’s inside.”

“Fine fine.” I gave up. It’s must be real since he is so serious and persistent like this.

“Let’s go back. Or Nanamin will eat all the cakes.”

“Nanamin is not you.” I rolled my eyes playfully, but can’t hold the giddy smile that was hanging on my lips. “Satoru.”

“Hm?” Satoru turned to me.

“Thank you for your Christmas present. I will treasure it.” I showed him the omamori he gave me moments ago.

Satoru gives me a soft smile (and affectionate stare), “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing here.”

“Okay!” I grinned before I got another idea. I quickly round up a snowball and throw it to his back, and it wonderfully hits his back.

Satoru turns to me with wide eyes and then quickly turned into the usual mischievous glint. “Now, you have done it.” He also rounded some snowballs and threw it to me. I shriek as I escape from his assault, rounding my own ammos to fight him. ~”~

 “How long they are going to play this flirting stage?” Shoko propped her cheek on her hand as they looked two kids playing snowball fight.

“As long as Gojo-san didn’t get me involved in his weird conference.” Nanamin pushed up his sunglasses.

“That’s the fun part.” Shoko smiled. “it’s nice to see him acting like his age, emotionally.”

“Fufufu, it was an easy cash too. I will have to join his conference every time.”

“As expected from Nee-sama.”

“Huhuhu, we have our own bet to see how long they will realize their own feelings.” Yoru laughed.

“I bet [Name]-san will realize it first, but went into a denial stage after the denial stage she will accept it and then hide it from that trashy adult.” Megumi said it all with a deadpan voice.

“I also think [Name]-san will realize it first. Though, I am not sure about the detail.” Tsumiki sweatdropped at her younger brother prediction.

“It’s possible.” Yae nodded. “I mean, this is [Name] we are talking about. Anything is possible.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” Yaga sighed as he looked at his former student and his former student’s sort of student.