#The Library

[herpsandbirds]

[thedeadpoets-blog]

autumn walks 🍁🎃☕️🍂

[weirdlookindog]

Paul Rumsey (b. 1953) - The Library

[penneinwonderland]

Headcanon- Eliot and Jacob Stone are twins but they never saw each other after they turned 17 and both think the other died. Eliot went into service for his country, Jacob stayed with their father and there was a massive accident at a site were they were supposed to be. Eliot assumes Jacob died in the accident which is why his father refuses to talk about Jacob. Jacob never heard back from Eliot after awhile ( government stopped all letter to isolate Eliot from distractions) and assumes he died in service. The best part is when their paths cross but through their contacts. Like Quinn sees Jacob and asks how he and his team are doing and Jacob is so confused. Eliot goes to talk to a professor for help with a con and the professor greats him like an old friend and Eliot is like wtf???

[babblingbookends]

Rooftop Chase

Hi hi! My contribution for Day One of Dick and Damian Week is called "Rooftop Chases, Hard Drives, and Ice Cream Sundaes" using the prompt "Rooftop Chase". It features Robin, Nightwing, and a certain cat-themed thief 👀 Hope you like it!

[averagedndemon]

ok so I’m here to say something that’s definitely been said before

but

to me the library is just this guy (kamaji) from spirited away

idk just smthn abt his overall vibe

[therailz-art]

[OC] It's her. It's Swordcat and her ever changing design

[pinkofatom]

Book search

Measured steps echoed between towering shelves. Stale and dry smelled the air. Countless nameless backs filled every row. Green eyes scanned each and everyone. Shoulder-long red tresses framed a focused expression.

Rebecca sighed — another pointless row. She knew that the book had to be somewhere in this library. She was determined to find it. The woman just didn't know where to start. Neither the blank-faced receptionist, nor the bubbly promoter in the front could help her. Both still clang to her mind. Their glazed eyes. Tight revealing clothes. She shook her head. The exhaustion was getting to her. Rebecca had already spent hours wandering between the bookcases and only a vague memory had kept her on the track.

It had to be here. It just had to. The knowledge practically drummed inside her head.

The redhead took a deep breath, then turned a sharp corner. Rebecca couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, however. A quick glance backwards revealed only darkness and the flickering of a distant light. She rubbed her temple. It had been a mistake to go after work. The young woman should have just gone home.

But no. Her tired brain just wouldn't let her rest. The book was all that mattered. She was so sure of it. Every bone in her body vibrated in agreement.

Rebecca closed her eyes and tried to remember what kind of book she was even searching for. What the cover looked like. What it was about. A vague sense of familiarity came back. The woman was sure she had seen it somewhere, sometime before. But no image came to her — only a pleasant tingle and a surge of urgency. Her boots followed suit. With quicker steps she strode through the labyrinth. Her fingers glided across the shelves and the endless rows of books.

Row after row after row she walked. She had the feeling of having seen it all already. Her mind spun. Her heels clacked.

Cold shivers trackled down Rebecca's spine. Heels? The redhead looked down and gasped. She had been sure to wear her boots before. Now a pair of black heels adorned her feet. The woman frowned. With practiced ease she adjusted her slipping glasses.

Another jolt of worry traveled along her body. Since when did she wear glasses?

Rebecca's fingers traced her frames, then her nose and the bridge to her temples. Yes, they fit. They were her glasses. A slight smile appeared on the woman's face. Of course she wore them — always. She needed them to read the book's title.

Clacking she resumed her track. Hips brushed against her skirt. Dark pantyhose gleamed under flickering lights. Why did she think she wore pants. Highly inappropriate. She needed a tight pencil skirt and a button-up blouse. The redhead looked down. Yes, that was correct. She had worn it the entire time. The black skirt hugged her frame. It ended right above her knees. Rebecca could feel its firmness whenever her legs moved.

Her hand brushed along her white blouse. Only the first button was open and her bra was clearly outlined. Lacey black — the perfect contrast. The young woman smiled. The perfect attire for finding the book.

She had to get it, after all.

Another corner appeared and Rebecca turned sharply. She had no idea where she was going, yet her feet guided her along. The woman followed without question. Her body just knew where it had to be. Her head felt light and airy. The book. It was all that mattered. A tingling sensation danced through her body.

Rebecca shivered in anticipation. Her breasts stretched the blouse. She had the urge to undo a button or two. Her free hand glided over the firm fabric of the garment. A soft sigh left her red lips. It felt so good to wear the proper clothes for the library — like the miniskirt brushing her butts underline. She had to get the book, after all. Her heels echoed louder in agreement.

She passed another corner and scanned the spines. Still nothing. Rebecca knew it had to be here. Her green eyes sparkled. Her body thrummed. The young woman licked her lips. The redhead knew exactly why. She was excited — aroused even. Wandering the library was her duty after all. It made her wet. It made her feel alive.

The woman's hand glided over her skirt. She felt her crotch through the fabric. Rebecca gasped. She could feel the heat. Her head spun.

Her feet stopped. Her eyes focused on a single spot on the shelf in front of her. She froze and her mouth stood open. Drool dripped from crimson lips. There it was — the book. Rebecca had never seen anything more enticing. A perfect black cover. Golden imprints formed words that the woman couldn't understand. Yet she knew it was her goal.

The redhead took it out with trembling fingers. The leather cover felt smooth and warm to her touch. The spine flexed under the pressure of her palm. She could feel the pages inside. They called to her — screamed for her to be read.

Rebecca sat on the ground. Her skirt rode up and exposed her thighs. A small moan escaped her. She crossed her legs. Pantyhose and skin rubbed together. The woman bit her lip. The redhead opened the first page.

Words appeared in cursive writing. They spelled out the life of a woman — named Rebecca. It was an ordinary life. Filled with cherished childhood moments, difficult teenaged years and stressful adult work. A tingling spread from the tip of the reader's finger to her head and between her legs.

The woman continued. She turned the pages. They showed another story — the life of a librarian, of a sexy slutty woman that would do anything to please others. This time every word that passed her eyes disappeared. Absorbed into her ever-changing mind.

The reader gasped and her eyes glazed over. Her tongue flickered across her red lips. Her hands roamed over her body. They brushed over the white button-up, her breasts, her thighs and her crotch.

Moans echoed between the bookcases. The redhead arched her back and her head snapped backwards. The words danced inside her head. Pathways inside her brain reassembled into a reflection of the Library. Her free hand moved rhythmically between her legs. The other one held the book.

She was close — so close to her release.

Page after page, word after word. Her brain soaked up the identity like a sponge. Her eyes gleamed. Rebecca's hips buckled. Her thumb circled her clit through the dark fabric.

She was so close — she needed to finish the book.

With glazed eyes, she kept on reading. It was all there. Her old life, her old identity — replaced. The words vanished from the page. The black book absorbed her old memories. Only a loyal life librarian remained. Her old life vanished. The book was now empty.

The redhead stood up. A long shiver traveled along her body. Arousal stained her pantyhose. Wide her mouth stretched into a beam. Empty eyes locked on the book. With mechanical movements the librarian put it back into the shelf. Then she straitened her posture. Her heels clacked on the stone floor. She had work to do. A sexy slutty librarian needed to assist visitors — lead them to the books which desired them.

[graboidmilk]

Centaur Farm AU

[dndadsepisodecovers]

Ep. 06.01 Support Your Local Library

[thedeadpoets-blog]

“Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely?”

— The Secret History, Donna Tartt

[gayofthefae]

Even more that there's something up about the library. Will kept there, it being the central point of all the gates, but what's more, on the first shot we see the Creel House in the upside down in 4x03, we don't immediately cut to it. We follow a demobat flying to it. The first shot, in fact, of the upside down is of front and center - you guessed it

The library.

This is the first shot we get of the upside down.

[aphelionatseven]

I FANTASIZE YOUR DEMISE , BUT YOU KEEP ON WINNING

big man, little dignity, paramore | coney island, taylor swift | wolf | rollo, brother's war | unknown | disco elysium | joyce carol oates, we were the mulvaneys | domestication syndrome, dhole b. | tory adkisson, anecdote of the pig | hypocrates, marina | in the twenty-fifth year of marriage it goes on, alicia ostriker | 15th century lamb | pollution | the poet as an autopsy table, dante émile | pre-nupital, succession

[penneinwonderland]

Headcanon- Jacob and Eliot don’t know each other, never met each other, and aren’t related but somehow both teams end up at a shindig and the two get swapped. I’m talking Parent Trap level shenanigans and the entire time both Jacob and Eliot are confused on how they got switched u til the very end when they finally meet face to face. Jacob is surrounded by kinda nice criminals and these two weirdos who keep poking him or trying to make him mad. Eliot is trading tips with Baird while trying to figure out where he’s seen the Asian guy from (museum he canvased awhile back).

[piniatafullofblood]

my favorite trope is just Massive Library. Massive Library being Huge and Beautiful. star trek discovery?? doctor who?? atla?? the sandman?? it always goes so hard