A Collection of Stories, New and Old

“I believe there’s a story for everyone. As well as a story within everyone.”

Fandomless OC Account

Like/Reblog if you’re interested in talking with an old man who happens to be a librarian and also a catboy.

Muse Info

“I dislike cleaning so if you could do the dishes after it, that would be grand. Do you have any preferences for vegetables? I was going to go with potato wedges, peppers and cherry tomatoes but I can add others if you’d like.”

“Well then, it sounds like we have a nice team.” He raised a finger to his chin and thought.

“Yep~” What was with those man’s ears? They felt like dog ears. “You can get some if you help me out. Possibly with cooking. Preferably with cleaning up.”

Robert was used to staring when it came to his ears. Even more used to touching. He smiled back. 

“I’m making fish and chips and by that I mean roasted fish filet and vegetables. Anyone want some?”

With a soft twitch of his ears, Robert looked up from the shelf he was organizing. It was near the store’s closing time, and since he was the only one in the bookshop, he had decided to use the next bit of his time to straighten up the sci-fi section of his store. He learned long ago to differentiate the footsteps of people who were walking by his shop and those who had slowed down to look into the cramped building’s windows.

Not too long ago, he started the habit of showing off some of the newer or more in demand books by pairing them with stuffed animals. Originally, it was a bit of a personal joke, mostly meant for himself, but the exhibit seemed to quickly take off with customers. What started as one black cat on top of a copy of Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry turned into multiple stuffed bears holding romance novels, monkeys in chairs, reading bedtime stories to their tiny child counterparts.

Whoever was outside the shop was still now, he hoped admiring his newest window arrangement, a family of frogs by a campfire he had fashioned out of red and orange tissue paper, the largest with a worn print of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark propped open in front of it. Robert had taken extra care to make sure it was not open to any of the more frightening illustrations.

Then, he heard the familiar ring of the bell above the store’s door, signaling the entrance of a guest. Robert hurriedly straightened the last book on the shelve in front of him before walking out of the aisle, heading towards the door.