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ok let’s say you’re hosting a death match in the sonic library who are you putting in the ring and who do you think is winning
I'm throwing everyone in, no one is spared, whoever wins gets to be server owner or something idk. I can see one of two winners. Either @redpenship because she's smarter than the rest of us, both intellect and cleverness. However @whisper-and-tangle has a strong fighting chance because she's absolutely insane and would be willing to do *anything* to win
Recently used desktop as a chronic mobile user and I will say that there IS some appeal to desktop but it was hard to figure out how to see all the reblogs.
Or maybe, I’m just dense. Tbf I was at the library and very much had fear something nsft would pop up and some old lady (I’m saying this because that’s literally the majority of the people I saw at the library at the time) was gonna stumble upon me at just the wrong moment.
So I only lingered to check notifs and peruse a few posts that were mostly blocks of text. Anyway
feather
Suzu really should have known the fluffy quills were going to be too much for Obi to resist. They were unspeakably soft little puffballs of feathers, mottled brown and entirely adorable. Shirayuki actually squealed when she first unwrapped the gift a week ago, fingers deep in feathery softness, and Obi sat there just biting his tongue. Biding his time.
The plume drifted in the air currents where Shirayuki slept, a trailing blot from the tip of the pen staining her hand. It was impressive. Everyone fell asleep reading, but even Suzu hadn't drifted off writing before. Obi waited, watching, his uncanny eyes never looking more like a cat's than now, watching the feather twitch. Slowly he reached down, gently maneuvering it from her grip, and spun it between his fingers. “You going to finish her report for her?” Suzu hoped. It would be nice to have another pair of useful hands around here.
The grin Obi shot back at him was less than helpful. Mischief it was, then. Suzu sighed. The first trail of the feather along Shirayuki’s hand got no reaction whatsoever. He knew Obi far better than to think that would be the end of things.
The feather twirled again as Obi considered, as though Shirayuki were a cake and he wanted the very best piece. He reached out with the feather to stroke her ear. Her nose twitched and she rolled her head away, hair falling back to expose the side of her neck. Obi grinned fiendishly, as though this were just what he'd planned all along.
Suzu held his breath as the tip brushed Shirayuki’s jaw, then down her throat toward her collarbone. He was just thinking maybe he should say something, call Obi out for going too far, when Shirayuki stirred. She stretched her neck without waking, tilting her chin toward the touch, and sighed, “Obi.” Everyone froze as she settled back into her deep sleep.
Suzu didn't know what to think. That hadn't been a noise of annoyance or irritation. If it had been anyone but Shirayuki, he'd have described it as a moan. A satisfied one, at that.
Obi was as white as milk, unable to look away from the woman now snoozing facedown on the desk.
Patron: You can't spell Michelangelo but you can spell androgyny?
Me: I took Greek?
Highlights from the 1940s newspaper microfilm I looked at earlier today:
Woman Startled by Nag (a.k.a. Residential neighborhood frightened by horse on the loose)
Famous snake tamer poisoned by snake
Jailbreak prevented when inmates caught sharpening saws
Hiker detained on suspicion of being a draft dodger
16 Year Old Girl being held on suspicion of the murder of her brother and father
This guy that we're helping at the reference desk is trying to come up with resources on European writers, politicians, etc of African descent from like the renaissance. (His professor was hopelessly vague; we've mostly got that they can't be modern people)
So my co-worker told him that Alexander Dumas, who wrote Three Musketeers, was half black.
To which he responded, "I'll write my paper all about him. He has a candy bar."
Someone in the library printed Pi.
We're afraid to put more paper in the printer.
When I give people the wrong information at the reference desk it literally haunts me all day. HAUNTS ME.
