closed bookshop

Safety - Stefan Salvatore

Living in Mystic Falls was dangerous. There was the constant possibility that you were going to die, being a human in the supernatural world.

However, it was like god had granted you a guardian angel in the form of the vampire, Stefan Salvatore. The two of you had been dating for a year, and it proved both pros and cons.

Pros, Stefan was madly in love with you and would do anything for your safety. Cons, Stefan was also one that had made many enemies, meaning lots of vampires were after you to get back at Stefan.

That day had started off like every normal day. You went to school with Stefan, you went to work, with one or two visits from Stefan, then you closed the bookshop you worked in.

Stefan had reluctantly allowed you to walk home, after you convinced him that nothing was going to happen and that it was nice out, so he had to let you enjoy the warm weather before it went away.

Of course, you had been naive to think that nothing would happen as you walked home. Someone was always after revenge for something Stefan had done a century ago, and sometimes, you became the target.

And that night, Katherine Pierce decided she would take a leisurely stroll behind you as you walked back to your home, where you knew Stefan was waiting anxiously for you.

“I really don’t know what Stefan sees in you,” Katherine said after you had woken up. You were tied to a tree, just outside the tomb where she was supposed to be buried. “I mean, you’re pathetically human, so I don’t believe it’s for the sex. Not to mention, this sorts of stuff must always happen, like, what a hassle for Stefan to have to save his pathetic damsel. Maybe your blood tastes good, that must be it.”

“Or maybe you just don’t believe that someone is actually capable of loving another just because you can’t,” you bit back. “Stefan loves me, which is a hell of a lot more than he ever gave you, which is probably why you took me, right? Because you want Stefan, and you hate the fact that you can’t have him because of me.”

Katherine showed her fang to you, making you gulp nervously. She was dangerous, and you knew that she would not hesitate to rip your throat out.

“Katherine, if I was you I would take a step away from Y/N, or you just might find that your head is no longer connected to your shoulders,” A voice said, and suddenly, you saw Damon Salvatore standing right behind Katherine.

You and Damon may not have been best friends, but Damon loved his brother, and he knew that Stefan loved you. So to make Stefan happy, Damon would do anything to protect you.

“Damon,” Katherine said in a false sweet voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Distracting you so my brother can get his girl back,” Damon said with a knowing smirk.

Suddenly, you were safe inside your home, Stefan locking the doors behind the two of you. You leaped into his arms, sighing contently. You were afraid that he wouldn’t get to you in time, and that you would never see Stefan again.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. Stefan hummed as he gently rubbed your back, his other hand carding through your hair. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Y/N,”Stefan told you. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You grinned, feeling Stefan pull you into him tighter. “Stefan,” you began.

“What is it?”

“Could you walk with me home, next time?” you asked him hopefully. Stefan laughed as he kissed your lips.

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A prompt fill for @pyxyltheamoeba: Viktor Krum/Hermione Granger, “when it snows”. (Tags on sometime during/sometime post “the bookshop”, since I’m evolving ’verses at the speed of light.) (Wrote this last night sometime. Probably 2 AM.)

***

***

Diagon Alley does not precisely close up when snow hits, but it very nearly does. The snow is unusually thick and perfect, blanketing streets and roofs and making the whole of the street into an untouched lane of white. Hermione closes the bookshop early and asks Viktor if he’d like to go outside. Of course he does, and together they bundle up and head outside.

Viktor wears his heaviest fur coat, unwilling to get any colder than necessary. Hermione throws on a coat and scarf and bounds outside. There is a magical snowball fight starting down by Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and they join in with fervor. A few half-bloods and mMuggleborns are surprisingly adept at building snow forts and throwing snowballs without magic. There is no clear winner, and the game only ends when too many people have run back into the warmth of the Leaky Cauldron or another warm shop.

“Shall we walk a bit?” Hermione asks, looking up at Viktor.

“Of course,” Viktor says, and offers his arm.

They walk all the way up Diagon Alley, toward what used to be Knockturn Alley. A few stores that specialize in darker wares remain, but after the war the Ministry installed street lights, and that was the end of the “dark for dark business” attitude. There is no danger—especially when it is Viktor on Hermione’s arm.

He’s startled when Hermione coughs. “A bit chilly,” she excuses.

“Are you cold?”

“I should have worn a few more layers, I think,” Hermione says. She folds her arms around herself.

To Viktor, there is an obvious solution. He removes his coat and drops it over her shoulders. “Take this,” he says. “It’s quite warm.”

“Viktor, I can’t take your coat,” Hermione says. She sounds very nearly offended.

“I wish you to have it,” Viktor says. He closes the front of it, clasping it at her throat. “It is not a long walk back.”

Hermione looks down at herself, then up at him. She stretches up on her tiptoes and he bends down so they can kiss properly. “Well, thank you,” she says. “Shall we get back inside?”

Viktor takes her hand. “Yes,” he says. “Hot chocolate?”

“Please,” Hermione says. She smiles up at him. Viktor is fairly sure that even without a coat that her smile could warm him through the worst blizzard.

I'll take care of you

Character: Credence Barebone

Prompt: 81

A/n: Credence makes me very emotional because my son deserved so much better.

• You jumped a little at the sudden loud crack of thunder that rattled outside, nearly dropping the books out of your hands.

It had been raining all afternoon so most people choose to stay indoors. You had closed your bookshop for the evening and decided to rearrange the shelves a little and choose which books to give away so you could have room for newer releases.

If the thunder caused you to jump then you all but screamed whenever several small taps came to your back door. It took a moment for you to catch your breath before you ran over to the door.

It was still late in the evening, so you had no idea who could be knocking on your door at this hour.

Unlike the front door, this one had a peephole so you could safely check to see who was outside.

You were shocked to see Credence standing there, clinging onto his coat and looking terribly upset.

You hurriedly pulled open the door and scrambled him inside, locking it quickly.

“What on earth are you doing here? If your mother finds out she’ll al but kill you.” You warned turning to look at him.

Credence didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t an uncommon with him. However when you heard a small sob come from him you were on high alert.

“What’s the matter?” You asked softly, stepping close to him and trying to look at him, but his gaze was transfixed upon the floor. “Did she hurt you again?”

When he nodded meekly you gently reached out your hands for his, turning them over and grimacing at the red lash marks on them.

“How horrible.” You commented quietly, know this was a common thing at the place where Credence lived, somewhere you wouldn’t go near even if you’re life depended on it. “Does it still hurt?”

With another nod you gently dropped your hands and brushed the dark hair that clung to his pale forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll take of you.” You said assuringly. “Stay here, I have some medicine upstairs and I’ll get you a towel.”

He silently nodded again and you quickly ran up the stairs into your apartment and took all the things you needed, plus a glass of water to help him calm down.

You found Credence sitting stiffly at one of the sofas next to the windows, silently watching the rain.

You placed the safety kit and water on the coffee table and wrapped the towel around his shoulders, bringing the ends up to fluff at his hair and dry it. “There you go.” You said with a small smile at the look of his utterly disheveled hair.

The corners of Credence mouth raised ever so slightly, know how ridiculous he must of looked. “Now this is going to sting just a little bit.” You warned, placing some antibacterial on his hands.

He did flinch a little but with no complaints you cleaned the wounds and the wrapped some bandages around them.

“Do you think you can hold this?” You asked, holding the glass of water out for him.

“Yes.” He answered quietly, taking it and drinking it slowly.

“You know if things get too rough at home you can always come here to clear your head.” You said, offering him a comforting smile.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely, setting the empty glass down.

You took his hands again and his the back of the bandages. “To help them heal faster.” You said smiling.

You sighed knowing how late it was getting. “I’d hate to send you off, but you really ought to be heading home now. Don’t want to make your mother angrier.”

Credence nodding in agreement, standing up and walking to the back door.

You rested your hand on his shoulder and unlocked the door. “Take my umbrella and give it back to me whenever I see you next.”

“Can I come back soon?” He asked, once you opened the door for him.

You smiled. “Of course.”

Originally posted by hardyness

anonymous asked:

Hey!! Love your writing. Could you please do "Yes I know that's my face on the billboard can we not make a big deal out of it" with wolfstar, perhaps celebrityish Sirius with cute innocent Remus not knowing he's famous, if that makes sense?

Remus was about to close up the bookstore when he noticed someone back in the cooking section. He wandered over, not wanting to disturb the person too much. He knew finding the right book was a very personal thing, so he tried not to bother people unless they asked for help. 

“Hey, um, sorry to interrupt,” he called out. “But we’re about to close up.”

The man lowered the book and Remus couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped his lips. The man was properly gorgeous with long dark hair and grey eyes. “Sorry about that,” the man said, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I’m trying my hand at cooking. Anything you recommend?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Remus said, walking over and practically tripping over his own feet. “What sort of thing are you looking for?”

“Well, I’m trying not to eat so much takeaway anymore,” the man informed him, putting back the Gordan Ramsey cookbook. “But some of this is a bit too complicated for me.”

“I’ve heard this one is supposed to be really good,” Remus answered, pulling out “How to Cook Everything” by Mark Bittman. “It’s supposed to be helpful.”

“Thanks,” the man said, beaming at him. “I’m Sirius, by the way.”

“Remus,” he responded, smiling back. 

“Thanks again, Remus,” Sirius said with a nod. “I’ll take this one.”

“Great,” Remus said, leading him over to the cash register. “What do you think you might cook tonight?” he asked as he rang up Sirius’ purchase.

“I don’t know,” Sirius said, chewing on his bottom lip as he contemplated it. “Maybe some spaghetti?”

“You don’t know how to cook spaghetti?” Remus asked, slightly taken aback.

“I’ve never tried before,” Sirius said with an indifferent shrug. 

“That is just sad,” Remus teased, shaking his head. “You boil the water and you put the noodles in. What have you been living off of all these years?”

“Well if it’s so simple then why don’t you come over to my flat and show me?” Sirius offered, leaning across the counter.

Remus ducked his head down to hide his blush. “I guess I could do that, if you really wanted me to.”

“I do,” Sirius said, reaching over and putting his hand on Remus’. “If it’s not too forward.”

Remus giggled like a schoolboy. “I’m sorry, am I meant to be put off by the good-looking bloke that’s offering to take me home and cook me a meal?”

Sirius shrugged. “You could be.”

“No, that’s okay, Prince Charming, I’ll stay here and close up my bookshop instead of riding off into the sunset with you.”

“You think I’m charming?” Sirius asked, handing Remus his credit card to pay for the book.

“You know you are,” Remus said, sliding the card through the machine and then handing it back. “Don’t even pretend you’re not aware of the effect you have on people.”

“You got me,” Sirius said, slipping the card back into his wallet. “Okay, little shopkeeper, you close this place up. I’ll go to the shop down the street and get what we need. Meet you there in like twenty minutes?”

“Sure,” Remus nodded, handing over the cookbook. “I’ll just close up the shop real quick.”

“Great!” Sirius said excitedly. “See you in a few!” 

Remus counted the money as quickly as he could and closed up the safe. Usually he took some time to put back some books and rearrange the ones that had been moved by customers, but not today. He very nearly ran down the street to the shop and stood outside it, hoping he hadn’t missed Sirius. 

Remus looked around for an sign of Sirius when he nearly had a heart attack. In the distance he could see a billboard advertising some kind of fancy cologne. In the ad was none other than Sirius, looking gorgeous and unattainable in a three piece suit. 

“Hey there,” Sirius called out, bounding over to Remus. “I’ve got everything we need. I hope you don’t mind red sauce.”

“I-I-It’s you,” Remus said, pointing towards the billboard.

“Oh fuck,” Sirius said, sighing heavily. 

“You’re on a billboard,” Remus said, baffled by this new information. “You’re a model?”

Sirius laughed nervously. “Yeah, um, I am. God this sucks. I was actually really excited that you didn’t recognize me.”

“Sorry,” Remus said, feeling a bit foolish. “I don’t usually walk this way very often and I don’t buy fashion magazines or anything.”

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. “Any chance we could not make a big deal out of this?”

“Of course,” Remus said, standing up. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Sirius smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks. You still want to come over?”

“Sure,” Remus said, walking in step with Sirius. “Do you want me to carry anything?”

“Nah, I got it,” Sirius said, nudging him playfully with his shoulder. “You don’t worry about a thing.”

They walked along silently for a few moments until Remus couldn’t help himself from asking, “You haven’t by any chance do an underwear commercial, have you?” 

Sirius laughed loudly. “You’re so fucking cute.”

Remus blushed and scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. “Well?”

Sirius grinned and turned towards Remus. Remus stopped walking and turned to face him as well. “Do you want a picture of me in my underwear or do you want the real thing?”

Remus shuffled a bit. “Can’t I have both?” he asked cheekily.

Sirius licked his lips. “You’ve really never seen one of my ads before?”

Remus shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t get out much.”

“I’ve had ads in the tube station before,” Sirius informed him.

“I walk to work,” Remus responded.

Sirius groaned and wrapped his arms around Remus. It caused the bags in his hands to bump against the backs of Remus’ thighs but he couldn’t be arsed to care. “Can I keep you?” 

Remus laughed and slid his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “Depends on if you manage to master making spaghetti.”

“Oh?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you look for in a significant other?”

Feeling oddly bold, Remus brought their lips together and snogged a model right on the sidewalk. Sirius grinned against his lips and then began to kiss him back. As was a surprise to no one, Sirius was an excellent kisser and before long Remus’ legs had turned to jelly. “Take me home,” Remus murmured pleadingly. “Please for the love of God, take me home with you right now.”

Sirius chuckled and hailed a cab. “What about the spaghetti, little shopkeeper?” 

“The spaghetti can wait, Prince Charming.”

Stefan

Imagine : Stefan protecting you from other vampires, as you’re only human.

Originally posted by dailypaulwesley

Living in Mystic Falls was dangerous. There was the constant possibility that you were going to die, being a human in the supernatural world. 

However, it was like god had granted you a guardian angel in the form of the vampire, Stefan Salvatore. The two of you had been dating for a year, and it proved both pros and cons. 

Pros, Stefan was madly in love with you and would do anything for your safety. Cons, Stefan was also one that had made many enemies, meaning lots of vampires were after you to get back at Stefan.

That day had started off like every normal day. You went to school with Stefan, you went to work, with one or two visits from Stefan, then you closed the bookshop you worked in. 

Stefan had reluctantly allowed you to walk home, after you convinced him that nothing was going to happen and that it was nice out, so he had to let you enjoy the warm weather before it went away.

Of course, you had been naive to think that nothing would happen as you walked home. Someone was always after revenge for something Stefan had done a century ago, and sometimes, you became the target.

And that night, Katherine Pierce decided she would take a leisurely stroll behind you as you walked back to your home, where you knew Stefan was waiting anxiously for you.

“I really don’t know what Stefan sees in you,” Katherine said after you had woken up. You were tied to a tree, just outside the tomb where she was supposed to be buried. “I mean, you’re pathetically human, so I don’t believe it’s for the sex. Not to mention, this sorts of stuff must always happen, like, what a hassle for Stefan to have to save his pathetic damsel. Maybe your blood tastes good, that must be it.”

“Or maybe you just don’t believe that someone is actually capable of loving another just because you can’t,” you bit back. “Stefan loves me, which is a hell of a lot more than he ever gave you, which is probably why you took me, right? Because you want Stefan, and you hate the fact that you can’t have him because of me.”

Katherine showed her fang to you, making you gulp nervously. She was dangerous, and you knew that she would not hesitate to rip your throat out.

“Katherine, if I was you I would take a step away from Y/N, or you just might find that your head is no longer connected to your shoulders,” A voice said, and suddenly, you saw Damon Salvatore standing right behind Katherine.

You and Damon may not have been best friends, but Damon loved his brother, and he knew that Stefan loved you. So to make Stefan happy, Damon would do anything to protect you.

“Damon,” Katherine said in a false sweet voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Distracting you so my brother can get his girl back,” Damon said with a knowing smirk.

Suddenly, you were safe inside your home, Stefan locking the doors behind the two of you. You leaped into his arms, sighing contently. You were afraid that he wouldn’t get to you in time, and that you would never see Stefan again. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. Stefan hummed as he gently rubbed your back, his other hand carding through your hair. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Y/N,”Stefan told you. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You grinned, feeling Stefan pull you into him tighter. “Stefan,” you began.

“What is it?”

“Could you walk with me home, next time?” you asked him hopefully. Stefan laughed as he kissed your lips. 

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I desperately want an AU where Simon is comfortable staying at the Dumort with Raphael and the other vamps and they don’t mind that he’s a daylighter, instead they make Simon do pretty much every chore that involves having to go out in the sun, like giving him a list full of books everyone requested and telling him to get them before the bookshops close, or receiving the handyman that come to fix the pipes so they finally can stop depending on the one vamp that knows the basics but not enough to do a proper job. I want Simon to come back home with a smile on his face, making his rounds and delivering everyone what they requested and that everyone loves him for it and he becomes a treasured member of their vamp family.

I want vampires, werewolves and shadowhunters to get along better for the sake of Simon being able to go where ever he wants and to receive his friends in his home, and everyone begrudgingly accepting it because, well, it’s Simon, if he can get me this book I’ve wanted for literal ages, I can put up with some mutts.

I just want Simon Lewis to be a happy lil bloodsucker with an extended, loving, vampire family. (And a loving vampire boyfriend by the name of Raphael Santiago, because what’s better than eternal love with no ‘I’m going to have to watch my partner die’ angst.)

The Bookshop is CLOSED

Bookshop Hours
Monday – Irregular
Tuesday – Inconsistent
Wednesday – Erratic
Thursday – Variable
Friday – Intermittent
Saturday – Changeable
Sunday  –  CLOSED


***

The gentleman who owns the shop next door-
now, I’ve been watching him for several years.
A quiet sort – he seldom says a word.
He keeps the strangest hours in his shop,
and I’m not sure he’s ever sold a book.
He’s got a friend who owns an old black car.
Bizarrely vintage, if to tell the truth.
A shifty fellow – hides his eyes ‘hind shades,
but stylishly dressed in well-cut suits.
This friend comes over frequently, it’s true;
at any hour of the day or night.
The bookshop owner always lets him in,
and then they oftentimes will go back out.

Sometimes they will walk south toward St. James’s Park,
and sometimes they turn west and head toward Mayfair.
At times they take the car to who knows where?
But mostly, they just stay inside the shop.
It’s not my business what they’re doing there.
But late at night, I overhear discussions.
They get quite heated, 'though never in anger.
The clink of glass on glass, then murmured words
and sudden silence – best leave it alone.

Once I asked the bookshop owner if
he’d like to stop inside and see my wares.
I think I quite embarrassed the poor fellow.
I thought they were inclined to that persuasion.
It doesn’t matter, 'cause I sell it all.
He stammered back to me polite refusal,
then fled inside his shop and locked the door.
In minutes, his friend’s parked out on the street.
He goes inside – I hear the same old pattern.
Discussion and the clinking, then the silence.

Just lately haven’t seen them on the block.
Heard rumour they’ve a cottage in South Downs.
I’m very pleased that they are sorted out.
I’d like to give the happy pair a present.
Of course the gift will come out of my stock. 


A Poem in Iambic Pentameter – favoured meter of Shakespeare (Aziraphale would approve, although he will probably smite me for talking about him and Crowley behind their backs.  Crowley just wants to open the present).

Background – The bookshop is adjacent to a shop that sells sex aids and toys.  POV: the proprietor, because all sex purveyors talk like the Bard.

For draco's angel <3

Draco stared into the fire as an old classical record of Severus’ played quietly in the background. Seven glasses of firewhiskey later, one for each year, and the man’s death still hurt like a fresh wound. He didn’t realize tears were running down his cheeks until someone came to wipe them away. He’d closed his bookshop every year on that day but the face he looked into was a familiar one. “Oh. H-hello- I- I was just about t-t-to make some, uhm, some tea…”

It’s been awhile since I walked down the memory lane,
and when I did, everything seemed to connect their way to you.
I’d see “closed” signs on bookshop windows
and eviction notices on apartment doors
and I remember how it felt when you slammed the door
on every tiny galaxy of possibility surrounding our hearts.
I’d see stationery papers on the bookstores
and stop myself from buying bunch of them
because I don’t want to write about you anymore,
I should never write about you anymore,
I shall not write about you anymore
but I find myself on the counter buying one pack of it
because somehow in the diminutive part of my brain,
I know there will come a time I will write about you again
no matter how hard I try to refrain.
—  s.a., well, to be fair, you only told me you loved me. i guess i am to blame because i assumed it meant you would never leave.