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beware-of-you-98 · 4 years

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you and i (jj x emily)

Warmth.

It's the first thing she becomes aware of as she's sucked from her blissful dreamscape into consciousness. She becomes acutely aware of sunlight beating down on her closed eyelids and squints as she teeters on that edge between awakening and falling right back asleep.

She exhales softly, stirring in the sheets, light linen scratching her bare legs and crinkling beneath her frame. She unconsciously moves closer to the warmth emanating from beside her, breathing out a soft, content sigh before she forces her eyes to squint open. She blinks slowly to adjust to the morning light, one hand slowly coming up to swipe the sleep from her eyes and cementing her journey back into consciousness.

JJ brings up the blanket to her chin, snuggling her face into the pillow, unwilling to untangle herself from the confines of her really comfortable bed, at the warmth the body beside her radiates. She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand, tucking it under the pillows to support her head. Instead of moving and starting her day, she focuses on the woman still asleep beside her, a smile coming to her lips immediately at the sight.

Emily is curled up at her side, one leg bent at the knee and hooked around JJ's legs while the other sprawls out behind her, toes barely poking out from under the edge of the blanket. One arm is tucked behind the stack of pillows at the head of the bed, cheek pressed undoubtedly right above her palm underneath layers of cotton and memory foam. Her other arm hangs loosely at her side, fingers curled loosely in JJ's own like they had been the night before. Her short, raven black hair, streaked with charcoal, gray and silver strands, splay out messily over the pillow. Her pale, bare skin nearly glittering under the rays of sun that poke through the curtains.

Lips slightly parted as she exhales, chest rising and falling steadily with her breaths.

She looks at peace, content, all the stresses from the job gone from her face. Instead, she looks softer and vulnerable.

Ethereal.

JJ untucks her hand from the pillow and reaches out, thumb coming up to swipe at the moisture escaping the corner of the older woman's lips with a feather light touch. Her thumb hovers for a few seconds, just ghosting Emily's lips before she slowly jerks the digit back as to not wake her. Her hand comes to barely brush through the older woman's hair, heart clenching as she stares over at her.

How she managed to wake up without this for over a decade, she'll honestly never know. She's often still so shocked, rendered completely speechless that this is her life now--that she can and does wake up to an actual angel, and angel that is completely and utterly as in love with her as she is with her, laying in bed with her on a daily basis. JJ often finds herself wanting to pinch herself to ensure that she's not dreaming because wow.

Wow.

She honestly considers herself the luckiest woman in the entire fucking world.

Blue eyes flick across Emily's sleeping figure adoringly, tracing across the sharp curve of her jaw, along her nose and down her lips. The blonde tucks her bottom lip between her teeth with a light flush when her eyes land on the red-purplish bruises in the shape of her own mouth littered down the side of Emily's pale neck, further up than JJ had consciously tried to be. They were nothing a layer or two of foundation (and Emily's hair) wouldn't cover, the blonde reasoned silently with herself, but still.

Oops.

She snuggles herself closer to Emily's side, sighing out again when the older woman presses closer to her. She closes her eyes, body relaxed under Emily's hold, at how blissfully domestic about this is. She presses her chin to the crown of the older woman's head, willing unconsciousness to creep up on her once more.

She blinks back awake when the door to the bedroom creaks open, but she doesn't make any sudden movement to turn and see who it is. Instead, she listens for tiny giggles, the sounds of tiny feet on carpeted ground, a whispered "shh," before the sound of a box spring protesting under the sudden movement. JJ braces herself for the impact of her three year old and nine year old sons to barrel into the bed to wake the up and start the rare day the women get off.

When she hears nothing and when she doesn't feel her sons tackling into either Emily or herself—that's right, Henry and Michael are at Will's for the week—does she turn to see who the bedroom intruder is.

A small, tired smile spreads on her face at the sight of the all black feline sitting beside the bed, tail swishing slowly on the carpet. Lazily, JJ hangs an arm down for Sergio to inspect, clicking her tongue tiredly when the cat bumps his chin against her palm. " 'Morning, Serg," she mumbles to the feline, voice rough and scratchy with sleep.

She yawns again, turning her head to muffle it into the pillow before scratching Sergio's cheek. " What s'matter, buddy?"

Sergio sits slowly on the floor right beneath her head, blinking up at her owlishly.

"Num-nums?" she murmurs, using a higher tone to address the feline, hoping to gauge some reaction from him. " 's a lil early for breakfast."

Sergio just blinks again, tail swishing once on the carpet.

JJ hums quietly, pursing her lips in thought.

"Walk?" she tries again.

Sergio's pupils widen slowly at the word, tail twitching as he looks up at the blonde hopefully.

"You wanna go for a walk?" JJ elaborates more clearly, chest rumbling with a silent chuckle as the cat chirps in agreement. "Okay," she relents, finally forcing herself upright.

She carefully removes herself from Emily's hold to not wake her, looking around on the floor until she spots the older woman's t-shirt she had thrown the night before. She picks up the black cloth, pinching it up by the collar and shaking the fabric until the light blue silk bra tumbles to the floor. She slips it over her head, padding over to the dresser and finding a pair of boy shorts to slip on underneath.

She glances back over to Emily on the bed, torn between letting her rest (she needs it) and asking her to come along (the blonde knows Emily hates waking to an empty bed). With that thought in mind, JJ flits her way back to the bed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the older woman's temple. "Baby...Em."

Emily groans softly at the sound of JJ's voice, stirring with a sharp, slow exhale as she wakes up. She lazily reaches her arm up, looping it around the blonde's neck and pulling her down for a kiss. Their lips move slowly against one another's, Emily slowly becoming more aware as the minutes tick by.

She plants a few more lazy, soft kisses on JJ's lips before pulling away, stretching her arms over her head with a tired grin. "Well, good morning."

JJ beams— she can't help herself.

"Good morning," she sighs dreamily, tongue darting out to wet her lips before she clears her throat with a shy smile. "Our oldest wants to go for a walk. Come with us."

Emily rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, impish grin on her face as she focuses on her girlfriend. "Is that my shirt?" she drawls playfully, pointing to the long t-shirt drowning JJ's smaller frame.

"Maybe," the blonde drags out just as playfully, reaching and grabbing both of Emily's hands in her own before pulling her up onto her knees on the mattress. "Sergio wants to go for a walk," JJ repeats softly.

Emily wraps her arms loosely around her girlfriend's waist, leaning up and pressing a kiss on her chin. "Sergio has no consideration for the time— it's six in the morning," she points out in a low, playful matter-of-fact tone.

"Mm, is that so?" JJ breathes out a chuckle in amusement, hands coming up to loosely hang around the brunette's shoulder. "You're an early bird," she points out.

Emily leans in and presses a series of wet, soft kisses along the blonde's jawline, making her breath hitch. "I am," she confirms, palms smoothing out on the plain of JJ's stomach beneath the stolen shirt. "I just was thinking I would spend my six AM with my head between—"

JJ playfully swats her girlfriend's roaming hands away, placing a soft kiss on her nose. "Sorry, baby, those plans are going to have to wait until at least 8 o'clock."

Emily bats her eyelashes innocently up a the blonde. "7:30 if I get the coffee ready?"

JJ bobs her head to the side, visually weighing the offer with a hum before grinning. "You do know the way to my heart, don't you, Agent Prentiss?"

Emily grins sleepily. "I do!"

JJ presses one more kiss to Emily's lips before hoisting her from the bed, making her stand up right. "Come on, let's take our cat for a walk."

"Coffee isn't going to make itself," Emily agrees, searching around on the floor until she finds her pajama bottoms, slipping those on before tugging on a tank top while the blonde secures Sergio in his harness.

"Hey, Jayje?"

At the sound of Emily's voice, so light and sweet, JJ turn with a soft smile.

"Yeah?"

Emily's expression softens, eyes shining with nothing but an expression JJ can only describe as completely in love. "I love you," she sighs out with a smile. "I really, really do love you so much."

JJ swallows back her tears at the sincerity in Emily's voice, entire body filled with warmth at the older woman's words. She really does have no idea how she lived before without Emily in her life like this, how she managed to convince herself for years that Emily could never feel for er the way she did.

Emily made her feel like she hung all the stars in the sky, as if she were someone so incredibly special and worthy.

JJ presses her lips firmly to Emily's hoping that she can convey even a smidge of emotions she feels for the brunette with the simple gesture.

She pulls away, leaning her forehead on Emily's before opening her eyes. Her breath hitches at the soft, loving look she's sure is reflected in her own eyes as she stares back into pools of warm brown.

"I love you, too."

#criminals minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jj x emily #emily x jj #jemily fluff 🥺#jemily #v soft jemily fluff #i wrote this while sleep deprived so it might be rambling #lazy mornings!!!!

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nulfaga · 2 years

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Since im thinking about it now (because im trying to recommit it to memory for the first time in a decade): the raven isn't scary except in the way that grief is scary. But if you want to preserve its impact for modern audiences you kind of hurt it by showing a goateed gentleman in a massive gothic drawing room weeping gently over an oil painting of his Lenore. Sorry but in my head he's in his sweatpants snotty crying over a Nicholas Sparks book ("vainly [seeking] surcease of sorrow") and he's had some ambien and he keeps hearing knocking but that always happens to him on ambien and there's never anybody there. The big end tableau, the final defeat ("my soul from out that shadow...shall be lifted nevermore") is a time skip (from "the bleak december" to the current day); he's 5 years older and idk. Some visual metaphor to let the viewer see at a glance that his life is over. The raven never flitting still is sitting—still is sitting etc

#Actually if i was going to make a short film i'd have the narrator be on the point of suicide #because the whole poem is recalling the first appearance of the raven and then the conclusion (the grief is endless) becomes self evident #my poasts

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hortascountrysidenotes · 4 years

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Swallow, Bat and Brimstone

Last night in the clear dusk we could see the first bat flitting about the perimeter of the roof and this morning with a strong southerly wind, we saw the first swallow, and a brimstone butterfly. The swallow circled about the house for about an hour - much as it did last year - a male judging by the length of tail feathers and since then we have not spotted it, but I would hope it was ours and will duly take up residence this evening.

Whilst doing a fairly major change at the top of the garden we spotted the first brimstone - no doubt just come out of the ivy where it loves to overwinter. We have cut down, as far as is possible without a chain saw, the Viburnum rhytidophyllum - not one of my favourites, at the time of planting a useful evergreen to help give protection from the north wind, but now rather superfluous - not only preventing the Cornus mas from spreading on both sides evenly, but also becoming a visual thug. It was sitting in the space needed to make the opening into the wood - the purchase of which had to go on hold with the advent of the BUG but which will hopefully still progress when the panic settles. I now have approximately 4 metres to sow with grass seed as soon as we get some rain - typical we are now desperate! We are promised a little and I only need a little, just to dampen the fine tilth I have prepared in two places and the seed can go on.

We are listening to warblers arriving in numbers - I watched a dear little chiff chaff on my early walk this morning and blackcaps are everywhere. Insect life is taking off and today the bees are going ballistic - actually they are too busy and have given the dogs a couple of stings each - they are always very grumpy when its so windy so tend to pick on anything moving near their hives. Mavis has taken refuge inside and is very nervous - pray to goodness she does not get like Hobby!

We continue with this strange way of life - enjoying certain aspects of it - the quiet, the undoubted good it is doing the natural world, but wondering where it will all lead and whether these draconian measures will continue for much after the end of this month. It is frustrating that garden centres have closed and could not have been run along the same lines as supermarkets - not only the waste of plants, but the difficulty getting garden staples when we have the time to garden is annoying! I have managed due to having a trade account to get 40 bags of compost coming from Dalesfoot but not every one is in that fortunate position.

Nonetheless, things are moving albeit slowly from the endless frosty nights and very cold dry days. Temperatures have soared today, but the damage is done and a lot of things especially roses have all the young growth blackened from frosts that should have come in January and February. We have also had visits from a Muntjac and Roe who have managed to nibble some of the roses as well! Bin Liners and old CDs are festooned around the garden which seems to do the trick.

The broad beans are ready to be planted out - Tuesday after the rain I think and the sweet peas have had their tops pinched out. Tomato seedlings are coming through strongly - Rosette, Moneymaker and the strange ones Mr Horta brought back from Ireland two years ago - now his annual mission is to prepare the seed for the following year and he’s getting very good at it! Luckily the trailing blue Lobelia are looking amazing - never grown them before so good to have done it in a year when it will be hard to get bedding plants if this goes on. Also the Verbena Obsession have suddenly germinated so I hope my containers will look good!

Tulips are nearly out in the pots - some lovely white ones already in flower amongst the Brunnera - a lovely combination. The wallflowers are flowering so there is colour and the blackthorn looks stunning with these wonderful blue skies. All the dahlias are in - sticks to mark them and watered - so now the only gaps are for some Echinacea still waiting till they are a bit stronger as they are so easily ravaged by snails, and then ultimately the Cosmos and Nicotiana. I did manage after queueing for 10 mins on line to get some more Cosmos seed from Suttons as I have three clients now wanting some - Fothergills, Chiltern Seeds and Sarah Raven are all shut for the moment for new orders.

Three types of lettuce are in seed trays and now that at last the nights are about to be warmer I will sow some carrots, spinach and beetroot outside.

A week for some more dog training I think - the dogs are very well exercised each day so long as present measures continue but if we are confined even more we shall have to do a lot of training in the garden to tire Mavis out mentally!

We live through interesting times - it certainly will be fascinating to see how many things if any change for good - local shopping and supply - less international travel - less importing so much from China and going back to making things here - the speed at which we can get projects underway if we cut out red tape - ventilators and masks being an example - railways being nationalised again for good - people continuing to work from home perhaps two or three days a week - public health improvements and working internationally on this front - important to keep notes I think to look back upon in the months to come.

HORTA

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sunevial · 5 years

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The Sorceress and the Sergeant: Reconnaissance

So.

I was ‘persuaded’ into writing a sequel to the AU of my fanfiction.

Yes I’m mad at myself, at the person who gave me an idea, and mostly at myself for actually going through with this terrible trashy romance.

Eat your hearts out, shippers.

Marjory shifted in her seat, fiddling with a bit of her sweater as her eyes darted around the familiar room. The early evening sun leaked in between wooden blinds, casting strange patterns of light and dark onto the office walls and desk. A light breeze with no origin flitted around the room, dancing between the almost comical amount of houseplants and paintings that were just a little too strange to have been made by mortal hands. Clicking keyboard strokes mixed with the low ticking of the wall clock, stretching seconds into hours.

“Well, it seems your last assignment went well, Miss Teller,” the woman said, finally breaking the silence. She pushed a classy pair of spectacles up over her nose, deeply tanned skin complimenting piercing golden eyes. “A little messier than I think anyone expected, but that’s to be expected with acid spitters.”

“Thank you, Miss Northwest,” Marjory said with a quick nod.

The woman clicked her tongue and shook her finger. “It’s either Patricia or Miss Vixen, nothing more and nothing less, dearie,” she replied with a light smirk crossing her face.

“Right, sorry Miss Vixen,” Marjory said, glancing off to the side. Despite almost a year of working with her ‘case manager’, Marjory still had no firm idea of who or what Patricia Northwest actually was. Her best guess was either an old trickster deity or a nature spirit from when the world was younger, but she had a feeling she would never fully get this strange creature’s story.

“Ah, much better.” With a painstaking slowness, Patricia began re-arranging some of her desk knick knacks, eyes flickering between various baubles. With one hand, she nonchalantly pushed some of her orange hair behind an ear. “Now, Miss Teller, seeing that I am your case manager, I want you to be honest with me,” she began, taking her hands away from her keyboard and placing them under her chin. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors floating around the office. You know, the ones of you and Ollie being perhaps more than just each other’s Sorceress and Sergeant.”

A shiver ran down Marjory’s back as the memories of the past week or so came flooding to the forefront of her memory, tending to her injured partner and the passionate night that had followed. In that moment, neither of them had truly thought about how their dynamic would change or the workplace consequences. Turns out a large menagerie of supernatural creatures were especially good at picking up on new relationships. With a sigh, she slowly nodded her head. “I...yes, I have.”

Patricia tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. “Are they true?”

Palms nearly dripping with sweat, Marjory could feel her shoulders slump in defeat. Her heart was up in her throat, pounding almost loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Almost. “...they are. We’re now…I mean, I guess you can say that we’re dating. I’m not sure what you call a relationship between a human and a supernatural creature.”

A playful smile crossed the woman’s lips. “Ah, so I was right. You did manage to snag our little angel,” she said with an almost pleased tone to her voice. “I didn’t think anyone would ever get through to him. I’m impressed, Marjory.”

Her head snapped up. “You’re…not mad?”

“Why would I be? I’ve been trying to get that ‘all work and no play’ boy someone nice for centuries, not to mention I saw this coming from the moment I met you.” Patricia paused for a second, reaching into her desk and pulling out a small manila folder. “You’ll be good for him. And as long as the two of you can still work on missions together, I don’t see why you two can’t get up to no good in private.”

Marjory could feel her cheeks flushing as red as her hair.

A snicker danced from Patricia’s mouth, showing a row of slightly pointed teeth. “You’re so easy to mess with, dearie,” she said, sliding the folder over the desk. “You really should work on that.”

“Easy for you to say. As far as I know, you don’t actually feel embarrassment,” Marjory mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing to the folder. “What’s this?”

Patricia one again adjusted her glasses, leaning back in her chair “Given this development in your relationship status, I think this next assignment will do just nicely for the two of you.”

Still red as a beet, Marjory snatched it up and glanced over the contents. She read it over once, twice, feeling her already flushed face growing more heated with every line. Slamming down the paper onto the desk, she stood up with as much dignity and height as she could muster.

Given that she was maybe five foot on a good day, that wasn’t a lot.

“You want us to do what?”

Patricia simply smiled wider, her eyes narrowing until she held the smug confidence only a fox could muster up.

“We have some nice ensembles in cloakroom three if you need something a bit more refined,” she said without breaking eye contact or her smirk. “Now, you had best get going, dearie. Your reservation is at eight.”

“Hold still, your hair’s a mess,” Marjory said, delicately running her fingers through strands of Ollie’s raven black hair and untangling knots.

“I still do not see the point in all of this,” he replied, tugging at the tie around his neck. He had forgone his normal casual clothing for a blue button up, gray vest, and slacks, though not without a significant amount of confusion and protest. “There have to be better ways of conducting surveillance than wearing clothing this impractical.”

Marjory huffed, smoothing her black cocktail dress free of any wrinkles. “There probably are, but Patricia insisted we scout out the restaurant in the least conspicuous way possible,” she explained, checking her clutch one last time. “Apparently, there’s been some dimensional warping in The Silver Spoon and management has closed off entry to everyone except paying patrons. Which means we’re going to dinner as a couple if we want to get in at all.”

Ollie just shook his head, eyes darting between the restaurant outside the car and Marjory while gears turned in his head. “She set us up on an evening outing, didn’t she?”

She heaved a long sigh. “It’s called a date, and yes she did.”

“I will never understand that woman.”

“You and me both,” Marjory said, pulling a light shawl over her shoulders and grabbing the car door. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

With lightning fast reflexes, Ollie wrapped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her ever so closer. A slight fire danced in his ice blue eyes. “One moment first.” Ever so delicately, he pulled her face closer to his, lips meeting in the dark. Marjory melted into the kiss, closing her eyes and feeling his fingers brushing her cheek and hand gripping her shoulder tight. It was drawn out, long and loving, neither wanting to be the first to break away.

His breath was hot on her ear, barely louder than a whisper. “You look so beautiful tonight.”

Hers was hardly louder. “You look so handsome.”

In the end, the clock won out, the alarm on Marjory’s phone jolting the two of them back to reality. She gave a wistful smile and carefully pulled away from the embrace, popping open the car door and stepping out into the chilly autumn air. A second later, her guardian ‘angel’ was at her side, one hand holding hers as they made their way down the sidewalk and to the restaurant.

She vaguely paid attention to the hostess asking for their reservation, answering the woman’s questions with stock answers as her eyes and ears scanned the room. It was dim, the room bathed in orange mood lighting. Good for both a romantic aura and keeping any visual warping hard to sense. The main hall was extravagant, walls lined with abstract paintings and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Tables were set with crisp white tablecloths, arrangements of freshly cut flowers, and flickering tea lights.

Their waiter lead them to a table in the back corner, a small booth where they could sit side by side. Marjory slid into her seat and picked up her menu, quickly scanning over the options for anything that sounded appetizing. Not long after, she felt an arm slip around her waist and pull her closer. Her face flushed ever so slightly.

“I’m not sure if you’re supposed to do that in public,” she whispered, shifting the menu so that both of them could read.

“With this place as dark as it is, I doubt anyone could see us anyways,” Ollie replied with an equally low tone. He leaned back into the cushioned booth and closed his eyes. Tapping his fingers, a nearly invisible pulse of silver energy shot from his fingertips and spread out across the restaurant floor. A slight frown crossed his face and he sat back up. “Nothing of note just yet.”

“We just got here, give it a little time.” Flipping the menu to the next page, she furrowed her brow and glanced up to Ollie. “Do you actually need to eat?”

He tilted his head to the side, seemingly trying to find the right words. “To my understanding, no. That being said, I find it enjoyable from time to time, not to mention it would be odd if you ordered something and I did not.”

“That’s very true,” Marjory said with a nod, pausing her uninterested browsing on a selection of entrees. “What do you want?”

Leaning in a touch closer, his eyes scanned the small list of dinner specials. “I do remember enjoying steak the last time I had it,” he mused, laying a finger next to the small description and reading it over. His eyebrows furrowed. “...what is cassis?”

“That’s french for blackcurrant. It’s a type of berry used in sauces and jams.”

He blinked a couple of times, glanced to her with visible confusion written in his eyes. “It is a fruity sauce…on meat.”

“Yup.”

“...why?”

Marjory shrugged, leaning her head against his arm. “Because different flavor combinations can pair together surprisingly well, like sweet and savory,” she explained, picking up her glass and taking a sip of water. “It brings out different tastes in both.”

“If you insist,” he replied, not sounding wholly convinced. “What are you getting?”

“Duck a l'orange,” she said, pointing to the entry under ‘poultry’. “It’s duck in orange sauce. I had it at this restaurant my grandma took me to when I was little. From what I remember, it was very good.”

Another blink. “Somehow, I think I am more confused about human cuisine than before we came here.”

The waiter returned a few minutes later, taking each of their orders and leaving behind a small bowl of bread and a plate of butter. Marjory took a roll and absentmindedly began tearing it into bite sized bits. After a minute of watching her movements and committing them to memory, Ollie did the same with his own piece of bread. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence, the constant clatter of dishes and low voices serving as a low din to focus on for the time being.

Ollie’s eyes began glancing between the other tables, the gears once again turning in his head as watched the various groups interacted. “Are we supposed to be sharing in conversation constantly?” he asked, slightly nodding his heads to the other groups.

Swallowing the last of her roll, Marjory took a long drink of water while she turned the idea in her head. “Usually during dates, people make small talk, talk about their day or their life, mutual interests, sometimes the sports or weather. Silence is usually considered rude.”

“That seems rather arbitrary and fairly uninteresting,” he said with a slight frown. “And silence is often better than a space filler.”

“You know, you aren’t wrong,” Marjory said with a slight giggle. “Then again, that mostly happens on first dates when you don’t know a person well.

Ollie smirked a little mischievously, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Whereas I happen to know you very well at this point, Sorceress.”

Thankfully, the dim lighting hid her flushing face.

Their entrees came not long after, both arranged with artistically placed vegetables and potatoes on colorful platters. Marjory hungrilly dug into her dinner, letting the mixture of roasted duck and tangy orange sauce in between bites of grilled asparagus roll over her tongue and down her throat. Glancing up at her…boyfriend? Significant other? In her opinion, guardian angel still worked best. Glancing up at her guardian angel, she watched his face contort in various expressions of bewilderment. “What do you think?”

Ollie glanced down at her, picked up a small piece of his dinner with his fork, and brought it up to her mouth. “I think it would be best if you tried some yourself. I’m not sure if I have the proper words,” he said with equal parts sincerity and teasing jab.

Rolling her eyes, she bit down and let the flavors roll around her mouth for a little bit. She swallowed and gave it a moment or two of thought. “Sweet, savory, very rich, a bit fruity.”

All that was on his face was a half smirk.

She didn’t need to see her face to feel the heat on her cheeks.

Muttering a curse or two under her breath, she took a bit of her duck in order to return the favor. Before she could offer it to Ollie, however, he suddenly sat up straight as a board. His eyes were narrowed, scanning the darkened room with the eyes of someone who doesn’t need light to be able to clearly see the world. Glancing around the room, her own mortal vision was enough to see the slight warbling of reality on the other side of the hall.

She shot him a quick glance which was shortly returned by one of his own. They both gave a slight nod. There was the confirmation that they needed.

“That is one of the strongest dimensional warpings I have seen in a long time,” he mused, leaning over the table and propping his chin on his hand. “We should take care of this sooner rather than later.”

Marjory nodded her head, glancing around at the other patrons of the restaurant. “Definitely, but let’s wait for the place to clear out a little more before we do that. We don’t need witnesses.”

“How do you suggest we wait it out?” Ollie asked, leaning back into the booth.

Glancing at the food on the table, Marjory cracked a small smile. “Take our time with dinner and order dessert?”

A small smile twinged at the corners of his mouth. He pulled her closer, once again brushing the top of her head with a light kiss, the two of them sitting in the relative darkness together. “That does sound…rather nice, actually.”

“Certainly more fun than our last adventure,” she said with a slight giggle.

“It is less dangerous so far, yes” he replied, turning her face to meet his. “But more fun? That is…a bit more subjective.”

This time, it was her turn to initiate the kiss, craning her neck up so that her lips met his. The surprise momentarily filled his eyes, then he sank into the kiss all the same, holding her tight against him. Not wanting to make too much of a scene in public, she broke the kiss a bit earlier than she would have liked. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Work could wait just a little bit longer.

#my writing #fanfiction #trashy romance #i'm mad at myself

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gguktastic · 7 years

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Some Things Shouldn't Be Kept Secret.

A/N - I am exhausted. This has taken three days. My finals are coming up in a month. I have had to complete the question and answers to two chapters in our 2nd Language Studies, which is Hindi. I had to write two informal letters and a 7-page-long essay on what I did when I visited my native village, how I spent NYE, and the essay was to be written about a house on fire. Then Maths. You'd better be happy with this one, guys. This is VERY LONG, so sorry if you don't like such long imagines. Also what even is the title I am horrible at that stuff. Also, I had the inspiration for the 'diary' part of the fic (WOOP WOOP SPOILER) from somewhere else, whether it was a published book or an imagine, it just crossed my mind and I wrote it down. GENRE - Fluff. WARNINGS - None. // It had been a particularly great day for me yesterday. I had begun the day with a much-needed mug of coffee, and finally having a bagel after several weeks, managing not to burn it, for once. After an insanely amazing and relaxing shower, I had flopped onto my bed, logged onto tumblr, and stayed there for the next 3 hours in the fluffiest onesie I owned. #BestMorningEver. Then, when I finally decided to head out of the house to go pick up some groceries, I ran into an old friend. Not any old friend, mind you, my best friend from when I lived in Lancashire. Also, it doesn't hurt to mention, that the 'old friend' I bumped into was world-famous-YouTuber, Phil Lester I had been looking for microwaveable popcorn with the extra butter at Tesco, and then, when I finally found it, it was too high for me to reach. Tesco with it's bloody high shelves. I was looking around for help, when a shopping trolley rammed me from behind. I almost fell onto the dirty linoleum floor of the super market when I tried to steady myself on my cart, which was right in front of me. Of course, me being an incredible clumsy person, tripped thrice over my own legs while trying to do so, and pushed my cart away from me, which collided into a wall, the groceries spilling out. I had, however, steadied myself - successfully and without dropping anything - on a rack beside me, thankfully on my feet instead of being flat on my stomach. (A/N - That has actually happened to me, guys. It has been inspired by real, true life events). Now you're wondering- [Y/N], so you had the best morning ever with coffee, un-burnt bagels, and then three hours of scrolling through tumblr in your fluffiest onesie, but when you said 'particularly great day' - well, doesn't that mean the whole day went by smoothly and don't you think almost falling over onto your stomach in Tesco and ramming your shopping cart against a wall in the space of 7 seconds puts a sour spot on your day? Well, it was all okay because the person that rammed into me from behind was my long-lost best friend, who recognised me as soon as I turned around to look at him and graciously accept any apology he offered, and smothered me in the warmest hug ever. I tensed up and pulled myself away from them. It took me a few seconds of scrutinising their hopeful face to realise who the man was. When I did realise, my mouth dropped open. "Oh my god, are you Phil? Phil Lester?" I said, overwhelmed, as he just nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, I am! And would you be [Y/N] from Rawtenstall, Lancashire?" He asked, hope shining in his eyes. I too nodded enthusiastically and, after a second of grinning at each other, he grasped my hands and looked me in the eyes. "Don't worry, [Y/N], I don't hold you responsible for the dead rabbit on my parents' bed incident." I burst out laughing as I recalled Phil's sad face as his mum yelled at him for putting a dead rabbit on her bed, something which had been my idea. He pulled me into a hug again and, this time, I hugged back. "It's been so long, [Y/N]," Phil said as we hugged. "No kidding, Mister Famous," I joked. He pulled away and began to say something when he looked over my shoulder to see my groceries fallen out of my trolley. He frowned and ran to it, and, in a minute, got my trolley back to me, the cracked eggs now paid for and replaced. I thanked him. "No problem, [Y/N]! It's so nice meeting you after all of these years! How about I give you my phone number and address so we can meet up at my place sometime?" He suggested. "Why not, Philly! Here you go," I said, unlocking my phone and giving it to him, allowing him to put in save his contact as, of course, Phil Striker 🦁🐗. He put in his address in notes, and handed my phone back to me. "Well, I think I should leave now-" I cut Phil off. "But could you just get me the extra butter popcorn from up there before you leave, Phil?" I asked, and he happily obliged, using his height to my advantage. I grabbed my popcorn from him as I gave him a small wave, him walking away, waving back at me. Coming back home, I lounged around, eating some Nutella from straight out of the jar, when I decided to text Phil about our plans. [Y/N]- Hi, Phil! It's [Y/N] here. So, about those palms for meeting up- don't wanna seem too eager, but are you free tomorrow? I could come over to your place if you like! Within minutes, Phil replied, Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - Hey [Y/N]! Btw what palms are you talking about? I blushed and face palmed when I saw the typo. (A/N - That was an actual typo I made while writing this. I decided to leave it in). [Y/N] - Oh Lord Jesus I hate myself. I meant plans, not palms. 😓 Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - hey that's k I was just joking around with ya! Oh and I'm completely free tomorrow, except that I need to film a video, so would you do it with me? I want to do the 'long-lost BFF challenge tag' with you. Let's see how much you and I remember 😜 and then we can go out for dinner, though do you mind if Dan (room mate fellow YouTuber and current BFFL - soz) tags along? I laughed at his message. He wanted to do a video with me? I decided to give the man-child what he wanted. [Y/N] - Whew thanks! Oh and sure no prob, I'll be glad to (tho you'll have to help me with my camera shyness k) and I am offended Phil Lester you replaced me how could you?! Jk don't worry ofc he can tag along no prob. Phil replied 10 minutes later. Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - Sorry [Y/N], Dan yelled at me for eating his cereal without his permission ): and thank you! Ps Whew for a second I was worried you were actually offended. I grinned at my screen. [Y/N] - You need to learn how to be a good room mate Phil Michael Lester you cereal-thief. And no prob, I'm sure Dan will be lovely as well (: haha don't worry I won't ever be offended by that we had lost contact for so many years after all! See you then, gtg, the monster in my stomach wants some food. Your place tomorrow, then? I'll be there by 5:00? If you're not okay with that time or want to shift to another day that's fine (: I put my phone aside to get a cookie, but was interrupted by the harsh 'ping!' Of my phone. I sat back down on the couch. Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - No no no that time and place are k! And I know I have a problem I need to be a better room mate and deserve to live in shame (A/N - Phil missed the 'to leave' after the 'to live' high five if you got my reference before reading this A/N. Back to the story now). I smiled. [Y/N] - Sure, Phil, see you tommorow! Also, you were very correct about having to live in great shame. Jk. You're AMAZING, PHIL (Bd-Dm-tss). Bye - for now! My phone 'ping!'- ed with one last text from Phil. Phil Striker 🦁🐗 - Hmm I read that pun out to Dan and he's still cringing you already have a bad impression well bye to you too and see you tomorrow, I have to go to Tesco (again) to get some more cereal for Dan because I forgot to earlier today ): the things this boy makes me do. I laughed and just responded with a 'Haha, bye!', as I tossed my phone onto my couch, it landing safely, but not before doing three triple loops in the air and almost giving me a heart attack. I softly laughed at yesterday's memories, as I waited for the lift to reach the 11th floor of the building. 9... 10... I nervously bounced on the balls of my feet, careful not to be too excited, scared that the lift would shudder and fall down. 11. I heaved a sigh of relief - the lift was incredibly slow, and I was not doing too well in such a cramped space. It felt like the nervous energy radiating from me bounced off of the four walls, ricocheting back into me. Did that make sense? I don't even know. The lift doors opened, and I was out the second they did - closed, cramped, spaces are not my friends. At least I had stopped having panic attacks now. Phil, however, had helped me out every time I had a panic attack on a lift, when we were still in contact. I had to use a lift almost everyday while I was an intern at the Rawtenstall Times after a course in Journalism at university. I remember having his contact open on my phone, and calling him as soon as I got into whichever lift was empty and functional. He would stay on the line with me for whatever length of time I needed him to be. Thankfully for me - and our phone bills - never in my life have I had to suffer through several minutes and even hours of pure terror in case of the lift braking down. After seven years, I finally had the option to call him if I had a panic attack, and I was finally getting to sit down and talk to him about the most random of things like we used to. I knocked on the white door. Just two layers of paint and a moderately thick wall separating me from my once-best-friend. I anxiously drummed my fingers on my thigh, my eyes flitting from one spot on the monotone grey carpet to another. Finally, after a painstakingly long minute, I was blessed with the visual and sound of the doorknob turning. As the door opened, I grinned wide and prepared to greet my friend who opened the door - except that instead of the raven black hair and blue-green-yellow eyes, what I saw were twinkling brown eyes, ones you could easily get lost into, and a slightly-wavy chocolate brown fringe. "Not to sound rude, but-may I know who you are?" The man asked. My grin, which had faltered just for a second, returned as a much smaller version of itself. "Hi, I'm [Y/N]. I'm here to meet Phil," I said, extending my hand to the incredibly tall man, not unlike Phil. He opened the door wider, and took my hand, shaking it. "Oh, nice meeting you, [Y/N]. Phil told me you'd be coming by today. My name is Dan, by the way, I'm Phil's room mate," he said, and I smiled at him. I opened my mouth to say that I had heard about him, when realisation dawned in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, come on in!" He said, and I thanked him before entering. Dan led me to the lounge, where we were making small talk, when Phil walked in, wearing black skinny jeans and a red-and-black button up. His eyes brightened up. "Oh, hello, [Y/N]! Dan, this is the friend I was telling you about. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, [Y/N], I was actually in the shower," he said, sounding truly apologetic. I laughed. "Don't worry, Phil, I don't mind. Also, I got that you were in the shower as soon as I walked in, hearing your soulful and romantic rendition of 'My Heart Will Go On'," I said, making Dan guffaw. Phil's cheeks were painted with an angry red blush as he mumbled something about Dan and I not recognising his artistic abilities. "Well, [Y/N], even after you have mercilessly shamed me for honing my artistic abilities, I'm still willing to do that video with you, for I am the kind prince of England," he said, taking a 'regal' pose. I laughed again, getting up and off the couch, as Dan just rolled his eyes and leant back in what he had told me was his 'Sofa Crease'. "Have fun, you guys," Dan said, as we disappeared into Phil's room. // "I completely and utterly destroyed you at the challenge tag, [Y/N]," said Phil proudly as we got out of the room, after filming the video for his channel. I shrugged. "Well, at least I remembered all of the embarrassing stories, so that's fine," I said. "But you could've stalked me on social media and found out all of those facts about me, and yet, I WON," Phil said, smug smirk placed upon his face. Dan interrupted our small little argument. "That aside- Phil, you never told me how you 'bumped into' [Y/N] yesterday," he said, eyebrows raised as his eyes remained focused on the screen of his laptop. "I met her at Tesco, I actually accidentally rammed into her with my shopping cart from behind-" Dan snorted. "Wow, Phil, you meet a friend after seven years and how? Because you rammed your shopping cart into them. Good going, mate," He said, not once looking up at us as he slowly munched on Doritos from a bag and scrolled through, from what I could see, tumblr. I sat down beside him before putting my hand into the bag and starting to eat the Doritos. Either Dan didn't notice, or he just didn't mind. "You know how clumsy I can be! Anyways, when I did, [Y/N] almost fell down but, using my super strength, I caught the damsel in distress in my muscular arms. She -" I cut Phil off. "-is so horrified by the lies you are telling your best friend that she has decided to ask you to tell the truth," I said, glaring at Phil. He sighed. "Okay, I'll tell you the truth- or is it?" He said, wiggling his eyebrows. Dan and I looked at him, annoyed. "Okay, fine. So what happened was that [Y/N] tried to steady herself by grasping onto the cart, but tripped thrice over her own feet and pushed the cart away, which then rammed into the wall and most of her groceries spilt out while [Y/N] managed to actually and successfully steady herself using the ledge of one of the shelves nearby." Dan looked throughly amused. "And then, when I turned around to look at the person who had rammed into me and then graciously accept any apology they offered, Phil hugged me," I said, and Dan's head snapped up, eyes wide. "You did WHAT?!" He said, looking at Phil, who looked just as confused as I was. "Dan, I just hugged my friend-" Dan cut him off. "You idiot! What if it had been some other random person who you didn't know instead of [Y/N]? You could've been reported to the authorities!" He said, almost yelling at Phil. I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Phil, what if I was a middle aged mum whose husband was just down the aisle, gazing lovingly at his beautiful wife?" I said. "Okay, you could've been anyone, but I recognised you from the tattoo on your wrist-It's a heart-rate thingy with the twenty one pilots logo at the end and, below it, in neat cursive, 'Stay Alive' is written. Which middle aged mum has a tattoo like that?" He said. "Okay, so you have a valid point," I said. "Now, who wants some brownies?" // I groaned as I turned around in bed, trying to shut the alarm off. It was a Sunday,and I didn't have to go to work. Yesterday had been the 10th time in a row that I had dropped by Dan and Phil's place. Dan, Phil, and I had plans to hang out this whole week as well, and I was supposed to be over at the 'Phlat' (or the 'Phalace Of Dreams', as Dan sometimes referred to it as) in an hour to help Dan film a video. I, of course, would be behind the camera, not in view of it. I lazily got up from bed, walking into the bathroom. I let the water heat as I got out of my clothes, stepping into the now pleasantly hot water. I just stood in the cubicle, letting the water run down my body, relaxing my muscles and taking away all of the exhaustion from the day before with it as it fell down the drain. 15 minutes later, I was done, as I stepped out of the shower wrapped in a fluffy towel. Seeing as I was already comfortable being in my pyjamas around Dan and Phil, I decided to wear an old MCR merch tee with my trademark light-wash skinny jeans and worn-out sneakers. Today, I felt extravagant, so I took a cab from my place to the Phlat, seeing as it was a 15 minute walk and I was not in the mood. As I sat in the cab, I put my hand in my fringed satchel to get some money out, only to be met with the sinking feeling of not having my trusty notebook there. It was a small A5 sized leather bound notepad, into which I jotted down my reminders, lists and also about the highlights of my day. It was the first thing I'd rescue if my house was on fire, that's how important it was. And it definitely wasn't at my place. It must be at Dan and Phil's place. I let out a sigh of relief at the fact that if it wasn't at my place or in my bag, it would be at Dan and Phil's, and they knew better than to peek in it. That's because Phil had once tried and then got a pillow thrown at him at full force. They wouldn't dare. They better wouldn't. // As soon as I let myself into the house after Dan opened the door for me, I had known something was wrong. Without so much as a 'hello' to me, he told me to follow him. Dan led us over to the lounge, and asked me to take a seat as he closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath as he took the seat beside me, looking down at his feet. "So, I found something..." He said, all flustered. Forget the diary, Dan's behaviour was #1 on 'The List Of Things [Y/N] Is Currently Concerned About.' "Continue," I said. "And, um- there were some things written about me which flattered me," he mumbled, me, however, being able to catch every word he said. "And...?" He pulled his hands out from behind his back, and my whole world came crashing down. My diary. "May I ask, Miss [Y/L/N], what this object is?" He asked, any trace of being flustered gone. His nervous twitching of the left hand was now replaced by a confident and smug smile on his face that he tried, and failed, to conceal. It was my turn to blush. "I- uh- I work at a- a newspaper office," I said. "And t- that's just the diary I write in. You know ideas f- for my column." I hadn't been lying about me working at a newspaper office. I was interning at the Daily Mail, where I would soon get a job under the Teen Magazine section, where I would write articles for teens. (A/N- I know nothing about the Daily Mail. Just making things up over here). However, I did lie about writing down ideas for my column in that diary. In that moment, if the world hasn't crashed badly enough around me before, the pieces burst into flames as Dan opened to a page and started to read. "18th of February, 2017, I just came back from the Phlat and had a genuinely good time with Dan. When I looked him up, I mean- he was actually so good looking- but now that I know what he is really like, I think I might really like him. 21st of February, 2017, woah, just had the best day ever with Dan! Phil was out today, so Dan called me over to help film a video of his. Later, we had Chinese take out for dinner, and I felt my gut do a 180 whenever we made physical contact. I'm actually falling for him hard, aren't I?" Dan snapped the book shut and looked up at my face, which was painted with a violent crimson. "You just go on and on about how you love my smile, my eyes, me, for a whole week, [Y/N]. And then, I stumbled across this paragraph," he said, and I knew which paragraph he was talking about. "28th of February, 2017, I'm still at their place, but they're currently not in the room, so I thought, why not? Just wanted to write about how I utterly wanted to kiss Dan Howell then and there after he opened he door, shirtless, hair not straightened. Well, they're back now, so goodbye." Dan smiled bashfully at me. Some of the blush had started to creep back into his cheeks, and I was currently biting my bottom lip, looking down at my tattoo, very embarrassed. Again, I felt my guts do a one-eighty as Dan lifted my chin up with his thumb, making me look at him. I fiddled with the aquamarine ends of my black hair, as I looked up at Dan with my green eyes. He leaned down, our foreheads touching, and smiled at me. Those dimples are going to be the death of me. "[Y/N], like how you wanted to kiss me yesterday when I opened the door for you, I have wanted to do that ever since Phil told me about the bad pun you had texted him, before I had even seen you. I've been madly and truly in love with you, [Y/N]. It seems impossible that these feelings could develop in just 10 days, but they did, didn't they?" Saying so, he put his lips upon mine. The first thing that crossed my mind was that this was the first kiss that had held any meaning to me. Sure, I had had my first kiss at a party while we played Spin The Bottle, but they didn't open up the gates to zoo in '[Y/N]-tummy-land'. I remembered that my breath could be stale by now, considering the fact that I had run out of tic-tacs to eat in the lift, but reminded myself that I had brushed not an hour ago. I felt my eyes flutter shut as Dan pulled me closer to him, hoisting me onto his lap. I tangled a hand in his curly hobbit-hair, the other on his cheek. He ran a hand through my freshly-washed, soft, and untangled hair, easing it out of his ponytail. His other hand encircled my waist, pulling me closer every time I pulled my body away from his. At this point, a kiss would've probably gotten much heated, but our's still remained sweet and innocent, yet heavily passionate. We slowly pulled away from each other, my eyes still closed as I touched my forehead to his. He bumped our noses together, making me giggle. Just then, the door opened and Phil entered. I turned to the door, eyes wide in horror, while Dan just gave Phil a crooked smile. Phil, in reply, almost dropped his laptop, and rushed out of the room, but not before Dan yelled out - "I JUST KISSED HER!" I, of course, blushed. The 'being flustered' soon changed to confusion. "Dan," I asked, "Why was he so terrified? I mean, sure, he acts like he's an innocent ray of sunshine, but we weren't even kissing that time! Why did he run away like that?" Dan turned away from the door, and looked at me. He grinned at me before replying: "Didn't you see? The camera was pointed towards us - he was doing a live stream."

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