closed bookshop

3

Jaime x Brienne: You’ve Got Mail AU

Brienne of Tarth always loved books, the smell, the leather bindings, the feel of the paper between her fingers as she turns the page. Her personal favorites have always been the knightly tales she used to read as a young girl, sitting on her father’s lap, in his little bookshop, getting lost in their own little world where knights came to life to slay gruesome dragons to win the hearts of the maid they loved with a fierceness that let them overcome any obstacle.

Said bookstore is now hers after Brienne inherited it following her father’s demise, which left the young woman totally devastated, and yet with the devotion to keep her father’s business and legacy running, to bring to life the magic she was granted to enjoy while reading with her father when still a child.

However, that legacy is in great danger with the rise of a monster matching that of the tales she read as a girl – a brand-new, high-tech, chic Lannister Libraries, a chain store set on nothing but commerce and profit, which is about to open up not very far from her book shop.

Brienne of Tarth would not be her father’s daughter if she just gave in, though. She is ready to fight for her father’s legacy to live on.

A welcome change in her ongoing battle against the great evils of the business is Brienne’s e-pal, whom she has known for a couple of years now. She never met the man she has corresponds with daily, but for some reason, she feels like she can speak to him about things she otherwise does not dare to let anyone know. Even though they have the agreement not to give away personal information: Brienne doesn’t know his profession, his age, the color of his eyes, or his actual name. The only identificatory aspect she knows about him is that his nickname is “GoldenHand33,” the same way he only knows her under the pseud “OathKeeper1.”

And yet, Brienne feels as though she knows that man anyway, his thoughts, his mind, his dreams that, according to him, won’t ever come about because they do not correspond with what his father’s legacy would demand, and, to her surprise, she has a lot more in common with this rather snarky, witty man than Brienne first thought when they started chatting more or less by accident.

Over time, those e-mail exchanges grew to be her lifeline, the one thing to hold on to when times are rough. GoldenHand33 was one of the few people Brienne ever opened up to when it came to her father’s death beside her friends in “real life,” and now grows to be ever the more important to her now that her father’s legacy is threatened.

A small fair is supposed to flush money into cash register, or so Brienne’s hope, because her greatest fear of the business being crushed by the Lannister Library grows with every day passing. Between reading sessions with children, featuring, obviously, lots of knightly tales, games, and balloons, Brienne finds herself running into a man taking his nephews and niece to the small book fair. Though judging by the looks, and the oldest nephew’s misgiving behavior, that is normally not their usual social sphere. The blond man with almost painfully good looks proves to be quite a witty and charming character, seemingly wanting to teach the children some valuable lessons about life against the odds of how they could probably buy that place with their own pocket money.

And if Brienne is not mistaken, the man actually flirts with her. Though she deems that to be rather ridiculous, considering her ugly looks by comparison. However, all of Brienne’s thoughts regarding their newest customer turn bitter once she finds out that the man is Jaime Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister, CEO of the Lannister Library bookstore chain threatening her small business! Brienne is furious – and disappointed.

Hurt and frustrated, she turns to her online friend again, who, gladly, offers some much-needed solace and encouragement. Though, to her surprise, GoldenHand33 suddenly starts to suggest meeting in real life, something that the two ruled out from the beginning. And it would be a lie to say that Brienne didn’t consider it since. After all, she found herself comparing the few men she dated over the past years to her e-pal, and whether they manage to make her laugh as much as he manages even with nothing but written speech and emoticons. And sadly so, most men already failed that simple test.

After some more time, and a particular party where she had to suffer through meeting with Jaime Lannister again, Brienne agrees to a date with one click on the SEND-button. And she must admit, the closer the date comes, the more excited she gets, even though Brienne is about twice as nervous and afraid of it. After all, she knows that she is no beauty, not what is conventionally perceived as charming or attractive, and she doesn’t want to lose her online companion.

They are supposed to meet up in a small restaurant, with their distinctive features being her early version of The Dance of Dragons, which they discussed about a lot online, since both have a fable for medieval history, whereas GoldenHand33 is supposed to arrive with, who could have guessed? a golden hand.

However, the man keeps her waiting.

What she doesn’t know is that the man is just outside the door, but too hesitant to walk in, instead, pacing outside, pondering about what to do.

Because that is Brienne of Tarth inside, the woman who was quite outspoken when she met him, not knowing that he is GoldenHand33, just like he had no clue that she is OathKeeper1, at a party where she directly attacked him and his father’s business, and that even though Jaime quite enjoyed her company while roaming through her little bookstore down the street. However, Jaime had absolutely no clue that the woman whom he has been flirting with online for the past years is the same woman who was charmingly kind to him in the store, only for all of that to turn to bile as she met him again, aware that he is the son of the man threatening her business.

Rarely has Jaime dreaded it as much as right at this moment that he was born a Lannister. Because that makes Brienne hate him the moment on he walks inside, he knows.

With a heavy heart, Jaime decides against the date, even though it breaks him about as much as it must break her, rushing back to his apartment to send her an apology via e-mail, hoping that she will forgive him until he found a solution.

However, matters only turn worse when Jaime gets news from his father that Brienne will be forced out of business, making them a monopoly in the capitol, which assures him ever the more that there is simply no way that Brienne will ever forgive him for working at the store chain that just annihilated her small business, for letting his father’s legacy – which he would rather not share in at all – destroy that of her beloved father.

Brienne, meanwhile, tries to come to terms with having to give up her father’s dream as she closes down his little bookshop, just like she has to deal with the sting she still feels about having been ditched by her e-pal. While she accepted his apology, it still hurt her, since it came right at the moment where she could have used the support. Needless to mention that GoldenHand33 rather kept his distance since, seemingly hesitant about chatting with her after the failed attempt of a date.

A nasty cold seems to be the icing on that cake of misery, and Brienne just wants to cave in at home, not knowing where to go from now on, what to do next, suddenly encountering the issue of having to find a new dream, and form her own legacy, as it appears.

But where to start? Brienne was so set on her father’s bookstore that it never occurred to her to do something else, to do something for herself.

Things take a sudden turn when the person knocking on her door is not one of her friends, but apparently the man she considers partly responsible for her world having been shattered, Jaime Fuckin’ Lannister.

Brienne’s irritation grows exponentially when the man whose father’s business just ended her father’s legacy tells her that he needs a friend, and that the person he chose of all people… on the entirety of the planet… is her.

“You are the one person I have ever met who insulted me to my face. And I think I need more of that in my life. Thus, the solution seems rather straightforward – I need a friend like you in my life.”

“And I don’t get a say in that?”

“I fear not.”

“The Seven must have sent you to test me.”

Yet, to her even greater surprise, Brienne finds herself befriending that man against all odds, soon enough laughing at his jokes and antics, having to discover that, yes, the man is human, and not some great monster from the tales, that he can be kind and what she would coin “knightly,” and that despite the fact that the man has one more blemish to add to the list of things that annoy Brienne out of her mind – the man even has a yacht. Because if there is one kind of people that she openly despises, then it is people with a yacht.

It is through Jaime that she starts to formulate her own wishes for her future, surprised to find someone supporting her and her ambitions, and having a keen understanding of the burden that comes with a father’s legacy. While Jaime’s is far different from that of her father, the two relate on a level they never thought they would. Nevertheless, she remains hesitant about starting over, feeling as tough that letting go of the bookstore, of that life, would somehow betray his legacy, him.

Whereas Jaime has to fight his own battles, as she can read between the lines of what he is saying, seemingly wanting to get out of the realm of Lannister Libraries as much as she wanted them gone while she still had her bookshop, seemingly having much smaller, much more personal agendas than that of the empire his father dreams of.

And in that, the two find themselves united in ways they didn’t believe possible.

But what of Brienne’s feelings for the man she spent so much time chatting with?

Can she trust Jaime Lannister the same way she dared to trust GoldenHand33?

Does GoldenHand33 deserve a second chance the same way she granted it to Jaime?

And what is she supposed to do with her life, now that she no longer has her father’s legacy to guide her? What is Jaime supposed to do about his father’s?

What tale is going to be hers? What is going to be Jaime’s? And what of GoldenHand33 and OathKeeper1 in this whole mess?  

Does the tale play out in real life, or will it stay hidden in electronic messages forever?

Inspired by some replies from the-night-painter here.

‘Somewhere in Boston’.

Wednesday tries to recruit Captain Flint for his war, and runs afoul of Thomas Hamilton in the attempt. Meanwhile, Shadow just wants a new goddamn book to read, is that so much to ask?

(Note: Vague reference to Wednesday’s true identity spoilers, plus some brief not so cheery talk about sacrifices.)

Wednesday had certainly taken Shadow to a lot of unique places in the last month or two. There had been many diners, a photocopy shop, a laundromat, some shady hotel rooms. They’d visited a movie theater with the unnaturally sticky floor, and a pizza parlor were Shadow wasn’t entirely convinced that cheese was actually the used topping. A homely bookshop in Boston was something new, all things considered, especially taking into account the extremely long detour it took to get there. They’d even stopped at a supermarket earlier to pick up a few things. Shadow inevitably found himself clutching the shopping list, whilst Wednesday charmed a woman unpacking oranges in the fruit and vegetables section.

Shadow followed Wednesday through the aisles of the bookshop, inhaling that new book smell and feeling quite contended. Bookshops held a comforting familiarity, as he had fond memories from when his mother would take him as a child. She would hold his small hand gently held in hers. She’d let him pick a book, and then they’d read it together. Books had always been an old friend growing up, and the lack of variety was something he’d endlessly missed in prison. He’d read a fuckton of history books - and that was great, he loved history books - but some more variety wouldn’t go astray.

Wednesday, after pausing briefly in front of the History section, finally halted in front of the Classics. He hummed and hawed to himself for a moment, before finding his prize.

“Did you ever read Treasure Island, Shadow?” Wednesday said, with a grin, tapping the red cover.

Shadow nodded. “Yeah, sure. Preferred Muppet Treasure Island, though. Miss Piggy was kinda hot.”

Laura had found Kermit quite attractive in his weird little froggy captain’s coat, so that had been a more than unusual bonding point when they first had started dating.

Wednesday froze for a moment, heavy brows raised, before assessing Shadow thoughtfully. “…hmm. And thus I continue to plumb the depths of the enigma that is Shadow Moon…”

Keep reading

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.”

Title: Sneak Attack
Character: Danny Rand
A/n: Honestly, unless the request/plot calls for otherwise, the default for reader will be the youngest Meachum sibling because it just makes my life like 10x easier and it makes more sense plot-wise.

After Danny got his own place in the city, he immediately went to you and gave you the spare key. He insisted that you were the one person he could totally and completely trust with it.

You had rejected it at first, telling him that it wasn’t necessary and that he should give it to Hogarth or save it for someone else.

Danny just shook his hand, taking your wrist and placing the key into your plam, folding your fingers over it. “I know that, but I want you to have it.” He said, smiling the whole time.

He seemed so sincere about it, you couldn’t say no.

Besides, it was just a harmless little key.

•~•

You always closed the bookshop early on Sunday, only a few people usually stopped in. Today was an especially slow day, so you left one of your older employees in charge while you went out.

Danny hadn’t stopped by or called like usual, so you decided to pay him a vist, it was early into the afternoon, but you still decided to stop and get the two of your something to eat, knowing he had a habit to forget about it sometimes.

You waved a polite hello to the lady at the desk before taking the elevator up to his floor. You took out the spare key from your bag, debating if you should use it or not.

The elevator bell dinged, and you stepped into the hallway, going to the very last door, listening in for any noise.

When you were met with silence you used the key to unlock the door, slowly peering inside to find the main room was empty. You slipped inside, closing the door softly behind you.

Pocketing the key into your coat pocket, you started up to the stairs, knowing he spent a good amount of time there. And to your surprise, the door was wide opened.

You could see him sitting on the floor, he didn’t have a shirt on and you could see his hands poised on his knees, quickly coming to the conclusion that he was meditating.

To be truthfull, the whole “Immortal Iron Fist” thing really threw you for a loop, and you tried your hardest to understand it regardless of how absolutely mental it sounded.

Still, the whole meditation and centering one’s chi thing really confused you, so you just opted to smile and nod along when he talked about it, doing your own research in your spare time.

You got a mischievous idea, knowing that Danny totally zoned out whenever he was like this, maybe you could manage to scare him.

You stepped carefully into the room, calculating each of your steps to make the least amount of noise until you were standing right behind him.

You leaned down to whisper in his ear when Danny moved to wrap his arms around your waist, causing you to fall into his lap.

After the initial shock of all the sudden movements, you looked up at him to see Danny already looking down at you with a smug smile.

“What are you doing?”

You laughed, holding up the take-out bag. “I brought you food.”

He smiled and set the bag aside. “Thank you, but I was talking about the other thing.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning against him. “Well if you must know, I was attempting to scare you.”

“Scare me?” He asked while you nodded. “Well maybe you shouldn’t be so loud next time if you want to succeed.”

You pretended to look offended for a minute while you pushed yourself out of his grasp. “Well maybe you should put a shirt on!”

You glanced down and saw the spiraling black, dragon tattoo that stretched across the majority of his upper chest. “When did you get that?“ You asked, lightly tracing over the inking.

Danny looked down and watched you, chuckling softly at the small sensation of your fingers on his skin. “I got it at the monastery, I can tell you all about it later.” He said, standing up to pull a shirt from his closet.

You took the paper bag and held it out to him. “Here, I got this for you.”

Danny smiled and took it from your hands, pulling out some of the things from inside. “We can share it.”

You were going to stand up when you finally got to get a good look at the view. “Oh wow,” You said, leaning foward to peer out at the city. “This is really nice.”

Danny sat down next you, leaning close to you while his hands stretched out behind him. “When I first got this place, I spent maybe an hour just sitting here and looking out.”

You rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t think I ever told you this,” You said with a smile sigh as you shut your eyes. “I’m really glad you’re back, Danny.”

A smile worked its way onto Danny’s face and he slowly placed his head on top of yours, not wanting to make you uncomfortable and pull away from him.

“I’m pretty happy too.” He said, wrapping his arm around you while the two of you sat in comfortable silence.

anonymous asked:

Hello, you have been identified as An Awesome Fic Writer™. Congrats, you rock! So that all of your readers can shower you with some extra love today, please tell us your favourite five stories of yours and why you like them and then send this to another five fic authors you think deserve this title!

Picking a favorite from what you’ve written is like picking a favorite child - it can’t be done. But I do like to talk about my poems. Most of my poems were written rather quickly and use iambic meter. It is much more natural and enjoyable for me to write a poem than a fic. I do not think anyone has written as much Good Omens poetry as I have. (I’ve written fics too.)


The Bookshop is CLOSED - from the POV of the guy who owns Intimate Books, the shop next to Aziraphale’s.

Dreamers - a fic that includes a poem. I consider it one of my better fic works.

In the Beginning - The Prologue of Good Omens written in the style of a Shakespeare play.

Breathe - the development of a relationship can take centuries.

The Ballad of Good Omens - meant to be sung but still looking for a tune.

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:can you write a fluffy scenario of odasaku asking his female s/o (who’s also a civilian) to marry him?


asdfgh how do u fluff;; jk, here you go anon!

For Oda Sakunosuke and [Surname] [Name], the phrase “settling down” has drastically different meanings. To him, it is the smell of curry rice and the sounds of the kids outside the door and the feeling of pencil against paper as words spill onto the page as easily as he can fire a gun, his time with the Port Mafia hidden away in the ravages of time. To her, it is the sound of the pages turning and the bell hitting glass as the bookshop door closes behind a customer and the peaceful quiet of a life that had spent too long in conflict.

All of it nothing but a pipe dream, only a wish that neither can quite see being granted in the near future.

There is too much going on now, too many risks, and too much uncertainty.

Though perhaps, Odasaku reasons, as he glances towards the bedroom door where [Name] is undoubtedly reading her book, they can try their best to make part of it happen.

He had asked both Ango and Dazai for a bit of help, when he realized what exactly he wanted to happen with his relationship, when he felt as though the years the two spent together had been the best he had ever experienced, no matter its up and downs - but had little success.

Ango had only sighed and returned to his drink, a sort of bitter sadness in voice. “Do it however you want.”

Dazai offered a bit of an answer, unsurprisingly, but not exactly one that Odasaku had hoped for. “You’re being a lovestruck fool. If it’s you, [Name] won’t care how you go around with it, as long as nobody dies in the process.”

Well, thanks.

It’s always nice to know that they’ve got his back.

Just maybe with other things that a workaholic like Ango and a mafia prodigy like Dazai would be able to grasp onto easier with the same level of seriousness as he does.

He shifts in his seat, eyes flicking towards the clock and back again to the door, worries suddenly bombarding him mercilessly.

What if she doesn’t reach the page?

What if she says no?

What will I tell the kids tomorrow if it doesn’t work?

What if -

Muffled by the door, Odasaku can barely hear the sharp intake of breath, the shuddering exhale, and the sound of a book snapping shut. Feet pattering quickly across the floor, [Name] pushes open the door and practically throws herself at him, arms wrapping around him in a tight hug.

He takes one look at her [e/c] eyes - dancing with the light of happiness that makes his heart stumble every time he sees it - and her grin, and all the worries vanish as abruptly as they had come.

“So? What do you think?” he finds himself asking, fingers wrapping around the ring she is holding and raising it towards her face.

She nods, then laughs a little, and her voice is teasing as she replies. “Yes, Odasaku, I will. But at least do it properly!”

He blinks. “You’ll have to let go of me then.”

[Name] pauses, considers, and shakes her head stubbornly.

“But - ”

“You idiot,” she says, “I said yes, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

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.”

zappsta  asked:

*pops icebreaker in mouth* did someone say a kiss—

Kisses! /// ✼..NOT ACCEPTING..✼

EMILY..❧

❝Ah, Zapp! Stop!❞ Shrill giggling echoed throughout the quaint living room of the apartment  which rested above the now-closed bookshop below. Her companion had developed a liking to staying over every night now; not that she minded, of course. She PREFERRED it that way. Partnered with the giggling, dainty hands shot out in an attempt to cease the motions of the sneaky fingers that were working their way up and down the length of Emily’s pinned form, lightly digging into the overly SENSITIVE areas of her supple skin. Watery eyes of golden amber connected with a mischievous pair of silvery blue, and another bout of laughter was roused from her as Zapp’s hands tickled along her sides. His form continued to hover over hers, her slender back pressed firmly to the plushness of the couch’s cushions. He had initiated a cruel tickling session a mere five minutes ago - purely for his OWN amusement - and did not appear to be deterred by her thrashing. 

Emily could SMACK him right now if she didn’t adore him so much - completely and utterly adored him, truly. Her short legs bent to accommodate her knees as they kept him at bay, the length of them preventing him from lowering his lanky body further. ❝Y-You’re terrible! Absolutely horrible!❞ Sheer GLEE was laced through her voice, her words emitting from her in breathless gasps when he finally allowed a respite a brief one, she was sure. Emily would have to move swiftly if she wished to stop his second wave of tickles before they began. 

❝H…Honestly…❞ She whispered, beaming a mega-watt smile up at himher hands journeying up to wrap around his shoulder, slender fingers sliding along the cool surface of his white-leather jacket. ❝I shall never catch a break with you.❞ Arching her back into a - rather attractive - bow, Emily’s eyelids lowered and she gazed up at the dark-skinned man through her curtain of lashes; tenderness and LOVE evident in the depths of her eyes. 

With expert precision, the woman continued to rise until her plump lips were brushing against Zapp’s her soft pants fanning along the skin that comprised his mouth. An instinctual blush - as per the norm for her - surfaced upon her visage, and she fully crashed her lips to his in an embrace of PASSION; unlike her in every way, but the rare spurning of BRAVERY within her could not be ignored. Emily leisurely opened her mouth to skim her tongue along the seam of his lips, coaxing him to part them and allow her to DEEPEN the kiss; her heart was pounding away in her chest, threatening to burst from its very confines. This always occurred whenever she was even IN Zapp’s presence he invoked such powerful feelings of love within her and she never desired for that to end.

@zappsta 

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.”

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.

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.)

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.