Entry tags:
- fic,
- good omens,
- hp
A story and a drabble
Annoyances
Some bastard called (supposedly) Charlene is spamming me with a virus. Don't know any Charlenes.
Non-annoyances
My new story, Nothing Like the Sun, is up at the Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest, Snape/Lupin, rated R.
Things you write on trains to pass the time
And, because someone (was it
snowballjane?), somewhere, mentioned Aziraphale/books; a drabble.
His hands touched skin every day. Richly coloured leather stamped with gold leaf, hiding intricately marbled end-papers and, pressed between them, the leaves, some as fragile as tissue, some thick and heavy and rough. Tucked neatly between the cleft in the pages would be a strip of bright satin ribbon, its end forked like a snake's tongue.
Sitting at night with a book in his lap, seeing how it lay spread open on his knees, Aziraphale would touch the words, tracing the black ink. Letting one perfect, glassy fingernail slip carefully between the delicate edges, he'd turn the page, and dream.
Some bastard called (supposedly) Charlene is spamming me with a virus. Don't know any Charlenes.
Non-annoyances
My new story, Nothing Like the Sun, is up at the Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest, Snape/Lupin, rated R.
Things you write on trains to pass the time
And, because someone (was it
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
His hands touched skin every day. Richly coloured leather stamped with gold leaf, hiding intricately marbled end-papers and, pressed between them, the leaves, some as fragile as tissue, some thick and heavy and rough. Tucked neatly between the cleft in the pages would be a strip of bright satin ribbon, its end forked like a snake's tongue.
Sitting at night with a book in his lap, seeing how it lay spread open on his knees, Aziraphale would touch the words, tracing the black ink. Letting one perfect, glassy fingernail slip carefully between the delicate edges, he'd turn the page, and dream.