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oliversrarebooks · 9 months

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The Rare Bookseller Part 14: Lily's Hard Work

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: captivity, mind control

Oliver looked up from his book as the streetlights outside his shop window flickered on one by one, the uncharacteristically warm fall day turning into a balmy evening. The scene in front of him seemed blurry and indistinct, and he couldn't read the words on the pages of his book.

Before he could feel distress, the silver bell above his door rang, and Alexander, one of his favorite patrons, was in front of his counter, his blue eyes piercing into Oliver's soul. Oliver froze on the spot, unable to move. He knew exactly what Alexander was now. And he knew exactly what was going to happen.

"What can I help you with, sir?" he said, keeping his voice soft, fighting the instinctual urge to bow his head, to kneel, to show how perfectly obedient he could be in the presence of a vampire.

"You already know." Alexander was leaning in close, and Oliver felt as though he might collapse on the spot if it weren't for the vampire's gaze keeping him still and docile. The tension was growing, becoming unbearable, when --

He opened his eyes.

He was laying comfortably on the soft leather chair in Miss Lily's office. He felt better than he'd had in days, months even, like he'd been on a long, relaxing vacation. And most distinctively, he felt like himself in some intangible way he didn't fully understand. He didn't feel dazed or hypnotized or like a mindless robot. He felt like himself, a better version of himself.

"Did you have a nice dream?" she asked with amusement.

"Very much so, sir," he said, a tad embarrassed. He wondered if he'd even ever see Alexander again. He wondered if he'd ever see -- "May I please ask you a question, sir?"

"Go right ahead."

"I apologize if this is impertinent, sir, but my bookshop -- what has come of it?" A twinge of melancholy broke through his feelings of contentment.

"You have nothing at all to worry about, dear. We locked it up after you. We'll take good care of it while you're away." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Your bookshop can remain a very good memory for you. Otherwise, you can quiet your mind about it, can't you? Nice and quiet."

Oliver felt a stir of anxiety before calm washed over him. "Yes, sir, I can. Thank you for taking care of my bookshop."

"Of course, no trouble at all!" she said cheerfully. "How are you feeling otherwise?"

"Better than ever, sir, thank you."

"You're very welcome!" She was pleased, and he was pleased that she was pleased. "Now, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, sir."

She took one of his hands and gently stroked it while maintaining eye contact with him, Oliver more than happy to fall into her eyes. "When I came to your cell for the blood grading, you were less enthralled than I expected you to be, given how well you responded the previous day. Why do you suppose that was?"

"Oh! My neighbor, Emily, was trying to snap me out of your hypnosis, sir," he said easily, eager to be of help. "She's very frightened of you, you see. But I'm sure she means nothing by it. I was frightened, too, until you helped me."

"Ah, I thought it was something like that. Thank you for telling me," she said. "You're not going to have to worry about that ever again. I'm sure your conditioning is buried too deep. You have no desire to resist, yes?"

Oliver blinked, dazed a bit by the recital of one of his mantras. "No, sir, I have no desire to resist."

"That one should take permanently this time. And when you return to your cells, you can tell Emily all about how nice your experience was. Tell her I'll be inducting her very soon now."

"Yes, sir." Emily wouldn't like that at all, but it wasn't as if any of them had a choice in the matter.

"Now, then, I have other business to attend to, and it's almost time for dinner for the humans," Miss Lily said, getting to her feet. "But you've been such a good thrall -- would you like a nice, hot shower before your dinner? I know it's been several days."

"Yes, sir, that sounds lovely."

"I brought you something clean to wear, too, something you're going to love." She picked up and unrolled a garment made of pure white cotton. It was a simple kind of frock, with a very wide neck and a skirt that widened at the bottom like a bell. "What do you think?"

"It's very nice, sir," he said, unable to hide his confusion, "but I've never worn a dress before."

"Clothing like this is traditional for thralls," she said. "See how the deep boat neck exposes your vulnerable skin?" She was staring hungrily at the spot where she'd feinted drinking from him earlier.

He felt that creeping submission, the desire to let vampires feed, and any misgivings about the garment flew out the window, his head still spun from Miss Lily's mesmerism. He took the soft dress, ran his hand over it. "Thank you, sir."

"It will suit you," she said, motioning him out the door and down the hall. "And here's fresh stockings and underwear, as well."

Oliver fell comfortably into step behind Miss Lily as they walked down the hall. "Here's the shower room," she said. "Feel free to use the soap and towels you need. Once you're finished and dressed, the cells will be down to the end of the hall, to the left, and through the metal double doors. The guard will let you in."

"You're not going to accompany me, sir?" he said, surprised.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I trust you."

He felt a swell of pride mixed with a dash of confusion. Why was she trusting him so much? Was he really so hypnotized that there was no chance he would do anything against the vampires? He strongly suspected he was. He expected to be more upset about this, or more dazed, not this strange disassociated feeling like he was observing himself from afar.

The showers were the same one where he'd been cleaned at the start of his captivity, and Oliver couldn't help but look at the locking device on the wall where he'd been handcuffed. Thank goodness that wasn't necessary any more. No, he had no desire to try and escape whatsoever.

After a few days in the cells, the warm shower felt heavenly against his skin. He took a fat pink bar of soap and scrubbed to his heart's content, savoring it. After all, this was a privilege Miss Lily had given him, so it'd be downright wrong to not enjoy it to its fullest. He self-indulgently wrapped himself in several fluffy towels, luxuriating in the feeling against his skin, before remembering that he should make it back to his cell in time for dinner.

With a bit of trepidation, he pulled the soft white frock over his head. It was comfortable and fit well, no doubt thanks to the measurements they had taken when he'd first arrived. If only he had a mirror to view himself. It was certainly unusual for him to be wearing a dress, but very little about this situation was usual.

He touched the spot on his neck where Miss Lily had nearly touched, the spot his future master might drink from. His blood, his being, were desirable. Some part of him that ran deeper than a vampire's spell couldn't help but like the idea of being wanted.

Exiting out into the hall, he remembered Miss Lily's directions, but couldn't help but cast a glance in the opposite direction. He was testing his own mind, trying to figure out what had been implanted in him. He deliberately forced himself to think of escaping, and found that it tightened his chest with anxiety. Not only would he never make it past the vampire guards, but he'd shame himself, jeopardize his new place in life.

So that was it, that was how his thoughts had shifted. That wasn't so bad.

His feet made soft padded sounds as he walked down the hallway's wood floor in his socks, and the frock swished pleasingly around his knees. A quick nod to the vampires guarding the line of cells had him inside the prison again, glancing around at the other occupants. There were quite a few more staring blankly into space now, and only a few still eying him warily.

Miss Lily hadn't wiped his mind. He was still able to reason.

He was very, very fortunate.

Part Thirteen >> Masterlist >> Part Fifteen

Thank you for once again reading about Oliver.

Tag list - please note if you'd like to be added

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn

#whump #whump writing #whumpee #vampire #mind control #captivity #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #oliver #lily

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michellemisfit · 25 days

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WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY - FIRSTS!

Tagged by @suzy-queued @deedala @darlingian @heymrspatel @lingy910y @energievie @mybrainismelted @blue-disco-lights

Name: Michelle

Age: Currently getting a kick out of telling people that I’m nearly 40 and having them go ‘NO WAY!!!’ - It’s funny and flattering :)

First Pet: Siberian gerbils called Tom & Jerry

First Word: No idea. Turns out my parents kept a baby book for my older brother where they painstakingly recorded all of that stuff. I found mine a few years ago and it’s got a grand total of 3 entries, one of which is talking about how chubby I am, and how I am yet to find a food I’ll say no to, and let’s hope that’s not a sign of things to come… after which it was abandoned. Thanks mum.

First Celebrity Crush: Leonardo DiCaprio

First IRL Crush: Dominik. We hung out basically every day after school. I would go round to his house and he would play me the latest Michael Jackson tape and show me new dance steps that he’d taught himself. I thought he was so cool.

First Kiss: Age 14 with my first boyfriend. He was 20 years old. We were in a relationship for over a year. Shit was fucked up. At the risk of repeating myself… Thanks mum.

First Car: Bebop 🚙 He’s my baby and I bought him this year and I love him! He’s a turquoise 2013 Toyota Yaris Hybrid.

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents: Heh. I moved straight from my childhood bedroom to a different country. If you’re gonna do something, do it right! lol

First Time on a Plane: I was… 18 months old? Parents went on holidays to Florida. I have about 3 memories from that trip.

First Cellphone: Nokia 3210 😎

First Concert: David Hasselhoff. I was maybe… 6? And I got very tired and slept through the second half, but my parents woke me up for Looking for Freedom, which was my favourite song of his.

First Foreign country you visited? Italy or France most likely. Pure proximity, and most of our family vacations were done by car from Switzerland so…

First sport you ever played? Hmm. I did competitive swimming when I was very young. And then gymnastics. And after that… about five minutes of football (the only sport I to this day do not understand. How do I run AND kick a ball simultaneously?!?), then 3 years of tennis, 2 years of basketball, 8 years of roller hockey, and a whole smattering of other sports on and off.

First career aspiration? I mean… I basically wanted to be a Disney Princess, purely for the Animal Best Friend aspect! And then any form of Animal Whisperer would have done the trick. I watched all the TV shows and movies where characters had magical bonds with animals, and I wanted that. And then I realised that the characters in the shows and movies aren’t real, but the people training and handling those animals *are*. However that wasn’t something realistic to aspire to, being Swiss, so instead I became a bookseller (somehow that made sense at the time… 🤷🏽‍♂️). And then 15 years later, in a different country and a different life, I did end up training animals for TV and film. So that’s kinda nifty.

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think “wow”

Hmmm. I dunno. I thought I was really fucking talented when I was about 12. I wrote a novel and sent it to publishing houses and literary agencies. One of them invited me for an interview, because they thought my writing was great and they wanted to meet the kid that had sent them a manuscript aged 12/13. They ended up giving me a job, working as a admin/secretary/slush pile reader. They also gave me lots of feedback and constructive criticism on my writing. I scrapped the novel I had sent them in favour of writing a different, better novel. I still think that novel was pretty fucking good. I tried to get my mum to proof read it and give me feedback so I could do any necessary corrections before I spent my pocket money on photocopies, C4 envelopes, and a whole bunch of stamps so I could attempt to get it published again. She was dragging her feet and I tried to explain the urgency, because I was clear that it needed to happen before I turned 14. That was the goal in my head. I had huge ambitions and dreams. I was also convinced that if it happened after I turned 14 it wouldn’t be special anymore. Like anyone could do it after 14… 🙄 In response to this my mum told me that she’d had ambition and dreams, too, when she was my age. But not to worry, that’ll go away, and once you’ve put away the fanciful notions of being talented then you can just get on with your life…

Not sure if this actually answers the question, but that was kinda the first and last time I remember feeling uncomplicatedly good about and proud of something I created. After this anything creative I did was always immediately followed by the doubt of ‘is this actually good, or is this just a fanciful notion I have about being talented, when in actual fact it sucks?’ 🤷🏽‍♂️

Wow. Ended that on a downer, didn’t I?

…

Erm… I wrote Tell me we’ll never get used to it,

They’re the only two people left that know what it’s like to have loved and to have lost a Lightwood.

And it’s a good story.

There.

I said it…

Tagging @crossmydna @palepinkgoat @too-schoolforcool @vintagelacerosette @heymacy @loftec @mikhailoisbaby @rereadanon @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @ian-galagher @andthatisnotfake @francesrose3 @faejilly @jrooc @creepkinginc if you fancy playing? I’m just very exited I’m actually posting this on a Wednesday still! Whoop!!

#Mys stuff #tag game #tag game Wednesday #firsts

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amypihcs · 10 months

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HE’S BAAAACK!!!

End of the Hiatus!

Don’t apologize, dear Watson, you and your Holmes needed a vacation after Final Problem. Let’s see what happened this time!

Oh well, there’s a murder, Watson has an encounter with a man dressed as a bookseller and then...

yep, he fainted. HOLMES IS ALIVE, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? I CAN’T fault Watson for fainting! I think i would have fainted too... or punched Holmes. I do believe Watson preferred to kiss him and hug him as tight as possible. What can i say? Watson, dear doctor, your Husband doesn’t deserve you. You’re too good for this world.

Watson. (read this Watson like that Jeremy Brett’s breathy ‘watson’ when Holmes is very much impressed) You’re truly too good for this world. He’s WORRYING FOR HOLMES. FIRST THING FIRST. I love this man.

(Holmes, little service communication, know that your husband WILL take care of you now. He will never let you go again. He will manage to make you eat and rest properly. Know this. With you or against your will. You will be taken care of.)

And of course. Watson is always in for an Adventure. With his Holmes.

#Sherlock Holmes #doctor john watson #John Watson #holmes you almost gave your man a stroke #the empty house #acd johnlock #acd canon #letters from watson

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what-eats-owls · 4 months

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In all your publishing knowledge - can you shed any light why authors/publishing companies seem to release en masse on certain months of the year, rather than parsing out releases over 12 months??

So this is gonna be split between stuff I know for a fact/from personal experience, and stuff I have gleaned through context/hearsay, because publishing is both intentionally and unintentionally opaque about what actually benefits book sales. (Among other things. That's for another post, though.)

So let's start with stuff that's concrete. First off, authors don't actually set their own release dates if they're traditionally published. That's at the sole discretion of the publisher, apart from contractual clauses (e.g. they can't sit on a complete and printable manuscript for five years.)

Now the bummer thing is, books actually do come out year-round, not all at once. You just don't hear about 95% of them because they don't get mega marketing campaigns; these tend to be what's called the midlist. Midlist books get modest publisher support but aren't expected to be smash hits, just turn a (modest) profit.

What I also know is that certain times of the year are perceived as better for certain titles. E.g. a book by an established mega author can come out anytime and make bank. A book expected to take off with kids is gonna launch near summer vacation. Anticipated holiday bestsellers tend to launch in October/November... unless it's a presidential election year.

What I have heard/gleaned from context is that post-Christmas is not great for sales, generally, unless you have something like the B&N BOGO sale of December 2021. Earlier in a month is considered better for best-of and top-seller lists, which is why the first Tuesday is usually crowded. (Why books mostly release on Tuesdays is a funny story for another time.)

There's a range of opinions on whether it's better to release the same day or month as an anticipated blockbuster, but no real consensus. On the other hand, what may look like a suboptimal release day is often pitched to an author as "less competition for the bestseller lists." The, uh, consistency of this is... varied.

But yeah! In short, there's a blend of observable trends and dubious superstitions, but books actually do release year-round. My recommendation would be to ask your local booksellers what their favorite new release is that month. Alternatively, you can check out the Indie Next lists, which are bookseller-picked recommendations posted monthly for adult books, and bimonthly for YA and kid lit!

#seriously though the indie next lists are great #not immune to hype entirely but not overrun by it either

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drdemonprince · 1 year

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oh my god can i get trans masc self infantilization for 500 alex

Quick hate read of this piece:

my relationship to gender was mediated (isn’t it always) by capitalism. I could not meet another trans man who could tell me how to behave, but I could shop for one. I could buy distilled trans expertise, and tell myself I was putting money back into “the community;” I was engaged in political action, redistributing my middle-class cash to support people I had never met, but whose welfare was, nonetheless, my business.

oh my fucking god Jude buying a huge crop of trans books at the local indie bookshop is not political action. I know booksellers who work at beloved indie-progressive bookstores quite intimately so if you haven't heard yet, I'll be the first to tell you: no matter their feminist branding, these places treat their workers like shit and pay them minimum wage. And often these stores are hell to be in for trans femme people.

edit: whoops he didnt even claim to support indie bookstores, it was a chain in a mall wtf

Also, it's baffling to me that a published author like Doyle can claim buying books is somehow redistributing wealth to poor, trans authors. First, wealthy people are widely overrepresented in publishing, and two, the vast majority of published authors never see a single cent of royalites. Over 90% of books never "earn out". You'd be kicking them about $2.50 of a $25 hardcover sale even if they did. stop making your consumption seem righteous dude.

These authors didn’t hate people like me; they didn’t disagree with me or dislike my general aesthetic. These authors literally hated me, me personally, the dude who had recently given them money.

the ENTITLEMENT!!! How dare these trans authors post openly that they disagree with you and your tepid liberal politics, you bought one of their books and (maybe, but probably not) gave them $3 !!!!

To a shy eleven-year-old boy on his first day of school, which is what I was emotionally and even hormonally at the time, it was devastating. I cried for days. I was on vacation.

a middle aged incredibly well connected man in publishing is pulling "im a little birthday boy -- hormonally" shenanigans. I get that reading critical comments about yourself hurts. I have been there buddy. I've received repeated misgendering, misogynistic criticisms and insults while I was newly on HRT and not even out to anyone! I was also a 30 year old adult man with a career and coping tools. I was not an eleven year old boy. I was not the victim of anything, really, except for my own lack of comment moderation habits at the time.

the amount of real life transphobia i have since lived looms so much larger that little petty online slights doesnt even rank. we're not talking about threats or doxxing here. we're talking people on twitter thinking he shouldnt be the face of trans politics.

because I know who this author is and move in the same circles, I have seen the message of hate that he's talking about. People mostly talk about him sardonically and insult his worst opinions and most hastily-written pieces. That's not even hate. That's just begging him to be responsible in his work and to maybe not write apologia for trans cops (one of the bad takes he was most openly criticized for at the time).

Those guys were my heroes, was the thing. They were the ones I had wanted to teach me how to act. I used to imagine conversations with them, think about what I would ask if I got the chance.

Buddy, you said you literally just discovered these authors mere weeks or months prior, having bought up every book published by a trans guy that you could find. It's not like you had posters of them hanging up on your bedroom wall as a child. And even if you did, youre a grown man in your forties who writes very inane takes. Some critique from your contemporaries comes with the territory and is in fact a compliment. it means people recognize youre a significant cultural voice and they want you to do better!

When I get into conflict with another trans person, when I stumble on the thread where my elders are shit-talking me, I am not looking at my computer. I’m in my math class, after lunch period, hearing the squeak of metal on linoleum as someone drags their desk a few inches away.

your elders??? are you talking about people who are like, three years older than you Jude .I understand that hostile middle and high school experiences bring massive trauma, but holding adults who are intellectually critiquing you, a fellow adult, responsible for the trauma you endured as a teen is so wildly inappropriate and immature that i cant stand it.

It would be one thing if Doyle showed any self-awareness of the disjoint here, and was just talking about being triggered, but he doesnt, not anywhere in the piece. he implies throughout that it's people being mean to him on twitter who are really at fault.

oh my god he likens himself to Isabell Fall later on in this piece i cant

i just cant with this dude hes always taking so many unnecessary Ls and gets hired so fucking much to write about trans experiences when he clearly has next to zero community connections and sense of scale when it comes to the issues we face. its so annoying!!!

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wellesleybooks · 9 months

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Booksellers on Vacation

Readers Row at Stone Harbor

Sally and her family spend the month of July sitting on the beach in Stone Harbor, New Jersey reading. We had to ask what books they were reading because we only recognized Spare by Prince Harry! The other books include: Maze by Nelson DeMille, Did You Hear About Kitty Karr? by Crystal Smith Paul, and August Blue by Deborah Levy.

#booksellers on vacation #beach reading #hats on the beach #books on the beach

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 4 months

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hello friends! we have survived yet another year! since it is the end of 2023, i thought i would do my yearly wrap-up of all my fic i wrote this year--but i am also going to start by saying thank u for 2k 🫣 i know i kept falling off the face of the dash this year so i appreciate the continued support! 🫡

okay now for the wrap-up!

in 2023 i got 933 kudos, 299 bookmarks, and 11,871 hits! which thank you so much for reading my little words :) i published 9 fics with a grand total of 147,561 words!

the one shots were:

-if you're lonely (canonverse, dean and cas help each other sleep, wrote this for @chaoticdean's birthday)

-Summer Session Sundries (silly getting-together college AU for the profound bond exchange!)

-all the lights in the abandoned city (my canonverse holiday fic, set after Heaven Can't Wait)

-east of eden (canonverse au after goodbye stranger)

the longer fics were:

-Happy Hour(s) (30k karaoke bar au. by the way my friends and i are the background characters whoops!)

-A Little Bit of Everything (23k, high school friends move back in together and romance ensues, also kind of sad, wrote for @deancasswitchbang)

-Something in the Air (50k, friends-to-lovers college AU set during a vacation to chicago, wrote for @deancaspinefest)

-My Vegas Valentine (14k, my serial valentine's fic from this year, dean and cas both work at a casino in vegas)

-summer in the city (20k, au where cas is a bookseller and dean is a bartender and they spend a night on the town, gratuitous use of trains as a plot device, wrote for @deancasbigbang)

so that's all from me this year! i have said thank you approximately one gazillion times in this post but no really. thank you. i love writing and i love making our guys fall in love again and again and again. may 2024 be full of even more!

#no I am actually crying in the club rn for real #the club being my parents' living room

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solottrpgchronicles · 2 months

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2c. Fresh Paint - Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop

Bookseller: Merry the capybara

Town: Thistledown

Date: 2nd of Bloom

Total customers: 44

Books: 470

Coins: 155

Dear Diary,

I opened shop for the first time today.

The locals must have been waiting to check it out; despite the relentless rain, many of them walked in.

I'd rather chill in a corner and mind my own business, but it was clear that at least some of the customers wanted to exchange a few words.

For instance, there was a riverstrider otter named Hunch who can't wait to go back home to his kids after Thaw week is over; he ended up buying a pop-up book about otters holding paws; he's sure his kids will love it.

Another interesting encounter was with Attie, a snake who earns her livelihood as a fisher. Apparently, she plunges headfirst into the water to catch fish with her fangs. She clarified the fangs are not venomous, and I'm thinking she must get questioned about it a lot. Poor Attie, her job sounds exhausting. She ended up buying Tales of the Great Sea upon my suggestion; I hope it'll help her relax in her free time.

The day progressed smoothly until a pompous lizard in a top hat walked in, scrutinizing every detail of the decor. He strode towards me, extending his paw in greeting. Introducing himself as Rigo, the proprietor of "Quill Your Inks" in Thistledown, he bombarded me with ideas for redecorating my shop. Insisting on a fresh coat of paint to replace what he deemed "garish orange," he pointed out the patchy areas while I nodded along, suddenly feeling drowsy. Perhaps I was having a hard time digesting my lunch.

Rigo left empty-handed, and now I was itching to fix the patchy orange walls.

As the rain intensified into a thunderstorm, I decided to paint over the patchy spots while keeping the shop open. There were a few cans of paint in the back, but they were yellow - so I decided to paint sunflower shapes over the ruined spots.

I'm not sure they actually look like sunflowers, but the result is still quite charming.

I was evaluating my painting skills when the strangest customer I've had all day walked in.

And elderly rat in a flowery dress, matching purse and grey gloves greeted me with a serene smile, completely unbothered by the miserable weather outside. She headed to the Fantasy section and picked The Heir of the Frozen Lands.

As she handed it to me over the counter, she proceeded to ask about my life in Thistledown so far, commenting that despite my extensive travels, I would surely grow fond of this small town in no time.

I was taken aback by her words - alright, she must have figured out I'm not from here because she hasn't seen me around before. But how did she know I'm well travelled? Was she just guessing?

"Remember to write a letter to your old friends every once in a while though, no matter how much you want to move on. What happened is not their fault - you know that, right? Be good, and have a good life. We'll be watching over you!"

I watched her leave, speechless, realizing I didn't even get her name. How did she know all that? And, "we"? Who's "we"?

Gosh, I need a vacation already.

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This is a playthrough of a solo journaling TTRPG called "Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop" by lostwaysclub.

You can check it out on itch.io: https://lostwaysclub.itch.io/floating-bookshop

#indie ttrpg #itch.io #journal entry #journaling #playthrough #ttrpg #solo games #solo ttrpg #tabletop role playing game #tabletop roleplaying #capybara #animalfolk #bookshop #bookstore #fox curio's floating bookshop

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addledmongoose · 1 month

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Good Omens Fanfic Friday (29 Mar 2024)

No really big works this week. I was on vacation the first half of the week and didn't read as much as normal.

blame it on my juice, baby (7K; Rated E)

Anathema tells Aziraphale and Crowley she accidentally gave them a very strong love and lust potion that'll last a week, and the two return to the bookshop and begin a week of amorous fun. (There's no noncon here; there was no potion).

***

Paradigm Shift (14K; Rated E)

Human AU. One-shot office romance told from Crowley's POV. He's a sustainability consultant. Aziraphale is the senior accounting analyst he needs to work with to help the company. Nice and low-angst.

***

The Anon Before Christmas (67K; Rated E)

Human AU/Enemies-to-lovers from Crowley's POV. These two absolutely loathe each other at first. I don't know if I've ever seen an enemies-to-lovers where the enemies were so firmly entrenched. It's only after they start chatting with their mysterious Secret Santa partner do they start to lighten up around each other in person.

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

***

A Billion Points of Light (51K; Rated E)

Human AU. Crowley is saved from an apartment fire by a beautiful, blue-eyed angel of a fireman and is instantly enamored. When Aziraphale also realizes Crowley doesn't have a place to live, he offers his spare bedroom.

***

the last test and proof (36K; Rated E)

Crowley goes on a road trip through the US to try to stop the Second Coming after Aziraphale returns to Heaven while Aziraphale tries his best to get the angels to have more empathy toward humans. In between, they finally talk.

#good omens fanfiction #fanfic friday

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

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repercussions // daniil kvyat

summary: tired of flying under the radar after moving to monaco with her athlete sister, the last thing y/n expected was to fall in love with the russian she met at the bookstore.

so tired of this stagnant place that I’ve been living in, don’t know how it happened but I’m wearing thin

pairing: daniil kvyat x female reader

warnings: mentions of sex & suggestive content. y/n has a complicated relationship with her sister but the love is still there. potentially badly translated russian.

this is pretty long so I apologize in advance.

authors note: this is what happens when I go on vacation and can’t sleep at three in the morning because of time zones and then remember that one picture of dany and penelope for her third birthday

translation guide: meelaya= russian for darling

monte carlo. a city that never sleeps.

so it’s absolutely the wrong place for y/n y/l/n. the city’s saving grace was the quiet booksellers on a side street, set back from the bustling casinos.

she was a quiet person, a homebody. the kind of person that monte carlo would chew up and spit back out again. the kind of person that preferred a five-storey bookstore to a party boat ride in the middle of the night. the kind of person that didn’t care for the nightlife, or the hordes of world-class athletes that flocked to the tax haven every year.

the heels of her fall boots clicked against the marble tiles as she wove between the wooden shelves, running her fingers over the paperback covers and breathing in the smell of brand new, unread books.

she was curious by nature, a habit that had gotten her in trouble more times than she could count in her twenty-four years of life.

y/n crossed into the romance section, eyes scanning the shelves for the latest from emily henry. the brightly coloured covers were on the top shelf, the pop art designs springing off the shelves as she dropped her canvas tote bag, resting it against the wall as she stepped onto the bottom shelf, testing her weight before extending her arm and reaching for ‘book lovers.’

it was just her luck that the soft paperback was set back from the rest and required some serious reaching in order to find a good grip on the book. she had almost grabbed it when she lost her footing, falling backwards from the shelf.

this is it. this is how I die, she thought, waiting for the moment that her skull would crack against the shelf behind her.

a moment that never came.

y/n looked up, heart racing, into the eyes of her saviour.

he had a soft face, one that was imperfect and oblong, yet still charming and inviting.

“are you okay?” his accent was hard to place, but if y/n had to guess, she would have said russian.

“yeah, yeah I’m alright.” she said quietly, slowly regaining her breath as the stranger helped her back to her feet “thank you for catching me, that could have gone very badly if you hadn’t.”

“no need to thank me. what is the point of having good reflexes of you don’t put them to good use?”

y/n chuckled, kneeling down to help the man pick up the books he had cast aside. “russian literature and childrens books? that’s an odd combination.”

the stranger laughed. “so says the woman who just fell off a bookshelf trying to get a romance book.”

she rolled her eyes. “ouch.”

“if you must know, crime and punishment is for me, and the childrens books are for my daughter.”

somehow that information hit y/n like whiplash. so much for her meet cute if the hot guy was already committed to somebody else.

“how old is she?” y/n asked gently, passing the stack back

“almost three. she’s with my ex girlfriend and her new guy this weekend. he’s a fucking red bull driver, off god knows where.”

of course she had heard of the infamous formula one drivers that called monaco home. in fact, her sister lived in the same building as three of them. however they did not run in the same crowds, you see. her sister was the life of the party when all y/n wanted to do was be where the hordes of people were not.

“I’m sorry to hear that things didn’t work out.”

“no worries. I’m over it.” he stuck out a hand. “danill. danill kvyat.”

“y/n.” she smiled, shaking his warm, calloused hand “thank you for saving me from certain death:”

“oh come on, that fall wouldn’t have killed you.”

“you don’t know that.”

you see, y/n y/l/n is a worrier in every sense of the word. worrying about how other people see her, how people react to the things that she does.

every possible outcome of every possible situation.

if there was something to worry about, y/n worried about it.

she lived in an almost constant state of melodrama, her mother used to say.

the pair continued their walk through the bookstore, heading towards the cash desk as they engaged in idle chatter, neither party dropping any big identifiers about their lives in the process.

“let me pay for that.” danill insisted as they got closer and closer to the till

“absolutely not.” y/n insisted, clutching the paperback to her chest. “I am perfectly capable of buying myself a book.”

really, she wasn’t. monte carlo is a very expensive city, despite the lack of taxes. but she had underspent on groceries that week, and had change to spare on new reading material to add to her never ending to be read stack.

but she still has her pride, and therefore she wasn’t going to let a beautiful russian stranger (whose name she now knew) pay for her.

“come on, it’s the least I can do to repay you for listening to me talk.”

“you’ve already saved my life today, you don’t need to buy my books as well.”

“but I insist!” daniil persisted as the young girl behind the counter rang up the purchase and read the total.

“it’s no big deal, daniil. thank you for the offer.” y/n thought the argument was over until she reached for her bag and realized it was no longer over her shoulder, spitting out a curse. “fuck. daniil, can you stay here while I run and grab my bag?”

the russian nodded, but as soon as y/n had slunk back behind the shelves, he whipped out his visa card and tapped the machine, paying for the book anyways.

when y/n came back, the line had already moved on, and the russian was standing against a table, two Papier bags in hand.

“you paid for it as soon as my back was turned, didn’t you?”

“guilty as charged.” daniil grinned, passing y/n the bag

“at least let me buy you a coffee or something.” y/n insisted. “I’m the one that should be repaying you, not the other way around.

really, she just wanted to spend more time with daniil, something akin to butterflies erupting in her stomach when she thought about his gentle smile, or his boisterous laugh.

it was like something straight out of a romance book.

they ended up going for lunch at a cafe down the road from the booksellers, and area of town that was still miles less busy than the rest of the casino city.

“so after you two broke up, she started dating your replacement at red bull ? that’s cold, man.”

that lunch would be the day they really got to know each other.

“what brings a girl like you to monaco? it doesn’t seem your style.”

“it’s not. my sister is a professional athlete. martial arts. I’m her manager, and she thought that it was okay to upend my entire life and drag me halfway across the world to live here with her because she didn’t want to be alone, which I understand, but now she has dropped me in that same spot she didn’t want to be in. I don’t really like change all that much, and there’s been too much of it lately for me to handle. I don’t make friends as easily as she does.”

daniil smiled “well, you’ve just made a friend now.”

it was the first time that y/n felt that she could be so brutally honest without consequence, without fear of saying something wrong or how the other party might react.

and for daniil, it was the first time he had felt seen, felt understood since his relationship with kelley had imploded.

they both felt at home with each other.

one lunch turned into two, which turned into a proper date, then two then three. then dates turned into heated kisses and wandering touches, nights at each other’s apartments, sheets clinging to sweaty skin.

but through all of this, y/n has still never met penelope, daniils little girl.

it was a cool october night, and nothing in y/n’s life felt right. it had been a long day at work for her day job, and she dreaded the realization that she still had a few tedious promotional tasks to perform in her sisters best interest.

as she was leaving the high rise building, she felt like she wanted to cry. she was supposed to meet daniil for dinner, and it was the last thing that she wanted to do: she was exhausted and annoyed from everything that had gone wrong in her day, her unshaven legs were an eyesore, and she was certain that her eye makeup made her look like a raccoon.

the sunshine yellow mercedes that sat in her parking space was the one luxury she had allowed herself after moving to monaco. she had saved for years to afford the amg car and it had taken more of her savings than she would have liked. she slid inside, dropping her tote bag in the backseat before turning on the stereo, resting her head against the steering wheel and letting out a scream, an old metallica song playing in the background.

when she was done having her little moment, she reached for her phone and dialled daniils number, running through all of the possible ways that she could articulate the way she was feeling, the anxiety coursing through her veins about the mere thought od trying to balance all of the things she needed to do for her sister against her date with dany and her downtime.

“hey, dan.” she started “listen, I’ve had a really long day and I still have stuff to do so I’m not sure that I’m gonna be able to make it tonight, I’m nowhere near ready and I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

“hey, hey. y/n, it’s okay.” daniil soothed, his voice almost bringing tears to y/n’s eyes. “we don’t have to go out tonight. listen, I’ll order some takeaway and cancel the babysitter. we can stay in tonight, and I’ve got penelope which usually means a night full of pixar movies. don’t go home alone, meelaya. an empty house isn’t good for you.”

“yeah, okay. I’ll be there in half an hour?”

“that sounds great. hey, are you listening to metallica?”

y/n laughed. in the months she had known daniil, she learned to love that the russian loved heavy music. she had been raised in a household of classic rock and hair metal, and had even gone through the traditional and often regrettable emo phase, and had gotten her name on the wait list for the my chemical romance reunion tour.

“of course. see you soon, okay babe?”

“I love you.”

“love you more, dany.”

when she got to daniils apartment, she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. relief surged through her body as the russian opened the door, pulling her in for a gentle kiss.

although his dating life had hit a standstill after kelley, he had never lost his touch, his kiss as soft and passionate as ever.

“daddy!” a small voice shouted from the other room “is y/n here yet?”

daniil laughed, pulling y/n into his chest for a hug. “yes, princess. come bring her your gift.”

the apartment echoed with footsteps as penelope kvyat ran into the front hall, carrying with her a bouquet of flowers bigger than she was.

“these are for you. I helped pick them out.” the three-year-old proclaimed, thrusting the bouquet towards y/n, who took them with a smile.

“thank you, penelope! they’re gorgeous.”

“hey, pen, remember I told you you could give y/n the flowers but then you had to go do your math homework?”

“who gives math homework to a three year old?”

“it’s literally addition and subtraction, she could finish it in ten minutes if she wanted to go but she gets distracted easily.”

after some minor complaints, penelope disappeared back into the dining room, allowing y/n to have some space and some private time with her lover.

“hey,” daniil said softly, reaching for y/ns hand “if this gets overwhelming for you, just tell me. please. I know it’s a lot and we’re still only a few months in-“

“dany, it’s okay.” y/n cut him off with a soft kiss. “she seems like a really sweet kid.” she grinned mischievously “and besides, every girl loves a dilf.”

daniil chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her neck. “lucky for us, pen has an early bedtime.”

the night went by faster than y/n could have imagined, and with each passing minute she was happier that she had decided to go to dans rather than back to her own, empty flat. dinner was traditional russian that daniil had picked up from a place down the road: perogies and creamy mashed potatoes, with dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets for penelope.

pen was very excited to meet y/n, and spent the night showering her in compliments about her manicured nails, her dress, the colour of her eyes.

after dinner, it was a scene that oddly reminded y/n of when she and daniil had first met each other, and subsequently argued over something as pointless over who was going to lay for the romance book she had fallen off the shelf trying to find.

daniil kept insisting that y/n should sit down and put her feet up, especially after the day she had, and y/n kept insisting that she was going to help clean things up, thinking that it was the least she could do in return for the evening.

and y/n y/l/n was putting the days of taking no for an answer behind her.

which is how she ended up washing dishes while dany cleared the table, the russian unable to resist playfully tapping her ass as he walked past with a stack of plates.

“do you want to talk about what happened earlier today, now that penelope is in the other room? it’s okay if you don’t want to, I just thought that talking about why your day sucked as much as it did might make you feel better.”

that was one of the things she liked most about the russian: he was a good listener, letting her vent whenever she needed to, or listening to her talk herself through an anxious spiral, and he was on standby to help however he could if either party determined that it was needed.

“I’m sick of working two jobs. I can’t work at the firm, and manage my sister at the same time, its getting to be too much. the law job was supposed to keep me sane, it’s what I studied for, committed too. but I think I kept the job to prove to emmy that I don’t need to rely on her, that I can do just fine on my own, but somewhere deep down I hate that she’s found so much success and so much wealth and that I have just been dragged along for the ride.” she complained, aggressively using a dishcloth to clean one of the ceramic plates. “thank god I have a day off tomorrow, I need a fucking break.”

daniil didn’t say anything, knowing that y/n just needed space to vent, instead gently pulling her into his arms.

“why are families so damn complicated?”

dany smiled. “who knows, my love? who knows?”

after the dishes were done, the couple joined penelope in the sitting room: daniil in the middle of the couch, and pen and y/n on either side of him, a large bowl of microwave popcorn on his lap, ‘cars’ playing on the tv in front of them.

“daddy?” penelope asked, sitting up on the couch.

“yes, princess.” dany smiled

“can you braid my hair?” the toddler asked, a plastic disney hairbrush in hand

daniil chuckled, moving around on the couch to make space. “of course, sweetheart.”

it was a scene that made y/n’s heart stop and swell, watching daniil expertly plait his daughters hair. it was something so nurturing, and so domestic that for a split second, she could see this in her future, she saw this as her forever.

and that scared her.

“does this mean that you’re gonna braid my hair as well?” y/n asked with a grin, leaning on danys shoulder.

daniil turned his head, smiling back. “can you sit still long enough?”

“of course.” she teased, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before lowering her voice “do I get to call you daddy as well?” she joked, quickly kissing him again instead of waiting for an answer

so imagine her surprise when, after gently parting her hair and running his fingers over her skin, daniil leaned in and whispered “try it later and find out.”

it sent shivers rippling down her skin, combined with the loving way that he was holding her, two sharp contrasts that made her feel butterflies.

the end credits rolled, and penelope was sent off to get ready for bed while daniil and y/n (with her hair freshly braided) tidied the sitting room.

“I was going to wait until the morning, but after the day that you’ve had, I think I’ll give these to you now.” the russian smiled, digging through a desk drawer. “I e been planning this for weeks and there was a whole big reveal planned, but it’s whatever.”

“what’s this?” y/n gawked, looking at the white letter envelope dany pushed into her hand

“just open it and see.”

with a smile, y/n placed the empty plastic popcorn bowl back on the counter and used her fingernail to open the envelope, gently pulling out the sheets of paper inside with a gasp.

“a weekend in paris to see metallica?!”

“kelley and max have pen that whole week, it’s been ages since I’ve been to a concert, and the two of us have never done a weekend away.” daniil hummed, striding towards y/n and placing his hands on her waist. “what do you say? come to paris with me?”

y/n pushed onto her tip-toes, pressing a deep kiss to daniil’s lips. “of course I will. I love you.”

dany kissed her again with a smile. “I love you more.”

“not possible.”

they stood in the middle of the kitchen, wrapped in an embrace as they kissed, hands tangling in hair before daniil scooped her off her feet.

“I swear to god, if you hit my head on the cabinets again-“ y/n giggled as the former f1 driver placed her on the granite counter.

“it was one time!” he laughed, kissing her again as she looped her arms around his neck, gently biting down on his lip as she tried to pull him closer, legs wrapped around his waist.

“daddy?”

the interruption made both parties jump, with daniil hitting his head on the cabinet door handle.

“jesus christ.” y/n muttered, a hand over her heart as she slid off the counter. “pen, you scared us.”

“y/n,” penelope started, clutching a stuffed rabbit in her arms “can you read me a bedtime story?”

touched by the little girls request, she turned to daniil. “is that okay with you?”

“of course. it’s an honour for pen to ask you that.” dan chuckled, ruffling his daughters hair.

so y/n sat with penelope in the small, but cozy pink room, reading from a copy of harry potter and the philosophers stone that pen’s uncle charles had gotten her for her birthday, insisting that she was old enough for wizards now. daniil paused in the doorway, snapping a photo of his two favourite girls curled up next to each other as penelope started to fall asleep.

months passed, and y/n and daniil had officially moved in together. unable to decide whose apartment they were going to move into, they ended up buying a small townhouse together, away from the cluster of f1 related personnel living in monte carlo.

the master bedroom was y/n’s favourite room, flooded with light from the skylight over the dresser and the large picture windows, a metallica poster over the queen sized bed (with the floral duvet creating fantastic contrast) and the wall full of books, the favourite literature of the two lovers mending perfectly to create their own miniature library. the room had an ensuite and took up an entire floor, reminding y/n of her uncles house in yorkshire.

penelope’s room was directly below, painted in an eggshell blue so pale that it could be mistaken for white, a plush bed piled high with pillows and stuffed animals in the middle of the room.

throughout the move, dany had been fielding calls from his agent, desperate to find something new to keep him going since he couldn’t race in europe anymore.

and y/n had finally put her foot down, telling her sister to find a new manager because she wanted to focus on her day job.

weeks went by, their weekend away drawing closer and closer, offering both parties a break from their lives. soon enough, the weekend was planned to a T, suitcases packed and waiting at the door, airbnb rented and ready.

it was a three day trip: one for getting there and sightseeing, one for daytime love making and the actual concert and one for the return flight to monaco.

the flight was seamless, and getting through the airport was a breeze. daniil hired a private car, and did most of the driving himself. when they got to the rented penthouse, he scooped a blushing and giggling y/n into his arms and carried her through the doorway with a wide grin on his face.

leaving their suitcases in the living room, the couple explored the old apartment, marvelling at the french architecture.

y/n got to the bedroom first, staring dreamily out of the picture window at the view of paris, the bustling streets and the old buildings, with the eiffel tower standing high above it all in the distance.

daniil thought it was the most beautiful sight it the world: his girlfriend bathed in soft daylight, her motley crue shirt tied up at the bottom to reveal her gorgeous stomach, skinny jeans that made her ass look flawless.

everything about y/n was stunning, and he made sure to remind her of that every chance that he got.

the russian came up behind her, gently running his fingers up and down her arms, placing a gentle kiss behind her ear.

“do you like it?”

“baby, I love it. I can’t believe I’m in paris, and tomorrow night I’m seeing metallica in concert.”

she turned around slowly, pulling dany in by the collar of his shirt so that his body was caging her against the window ledge. she kissed him gently, one hand on his chest and the other coming around to playfully squeeze his ass.

“change of plans.” daniil muttered breathily against her lips “we sightsee tomorrow, but right now, we are getting naked in that bed and not leaving until I have made you cum at least three times.”

the day of the concert arrived, and the penthouse was abuzz with excitement as the couple got ready, blaring spotifys ‘this is metallica’ playlist from the surround sound speakers.

the lovers were hand in hand as they filed into the arena with the rest of the general admissions crowd, and they barely let go of each other the entire time: from their clasped hands during ‘master of puppets’ as the jumped with the crowd, broad smiles on their faces, to y/n on his shoulders, high above the crowd during ‘for whom the bell tolls’.

they were giddy with laughter and slightly tipsy as they walked up the stairs to the penthouse, exhausted from the pure adrenaline of the heavy metal concert when they collapsed on the bed, not even taking off their shoes as they curled up with each other, daniils arms wrapped tightly around y/ns torso.

the following morning, y/n slowly shifted awake when she felt the bed move, daniils arms sliding away from her body. she was half awake when he sat down next to her, draping a plush blanket over her body.

“go back to bed, meelaya. you look exhausted.” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “have fun last night?”

“it was incredible.” she smiled widely, pushing up on her elbows to give him a kiss.

“I’m just running out to get some breakfast. how do chocolate crepes sound?”

“perfect.” she said softly, kissing him again. “drive safe.”

after daniil had left, y/n fell back asleep, banking another half hour before she woke up again, wondering why her lover wasn’t back yet. she tried not to think too much about it at first, getting in the shower in an attempt to avoid calling him in a panic, dressing in her tour shirt from the night before and a simple pair of lavender panties before going to the kitchen and making a hot chocolate, a dozen panicked scenarios seeping into her mind until her phone buzzed.

will be home in ten minutes. I have good news!🫶🏻

danill came back as y/n was getting the table set, a massive grin on his face.

“you know how I was calling around to all of those nascar teams to try and get a seat for the fall?” he started, wrapping his arms around y/n from behind

“yeah, what about it? did you get a call back?” she couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice

dany nodded “herzeberg called while I was out. I’m going to drive in nascar!”

y/n shrieked “dany that’s amazing!” she said, throwing her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, meelaya.”

#danill kvyat #danill kvyat x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #alphatauri #yeah I still love him sue me #f1 x y/n #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste #Spotify

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