#club that meets at the library twice a month

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

i'll see an indepth guide for what to expect/do when going to/doing certain things and i'll clap my little hands gleefully and read it and go wow i love knowing how to behave in situations!!!

[ms-demeanor]

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

[sassycheesecake]

Hello sweet cheeks 🙊🙊🙊

How's your day with me bugging you all the time 😂💃🏻

So I was wondering if you could write about meeting Kuroo, Iwazumi, Daichi and Akaashi for the first time, it can be before or after the time skip whatever makes you feel comfortable

Thank you in advance 🙈❤️

Don’t worry! You can never bug me 😂

I’ll gladly do that for you, I did Kuroo pre-timeskip and the others post-timeskip. I hope that’s okay. Enjoy! ❤️

You met the cheeky Middle Blocker Captain in high school. Precisely in one of the home rooms that you guys share together unknowingly.

Your teacher called you and Kuroo after class together, stating that your science grade is extremely bad and Kuroo’s grade in English is pretty much embarrassing to look at. But thankfully English is your best subject and Science is Kuroo’s.

So your annoying teacher put the two of you together, hoping that you can get each others grades up by studying together.

The two of you met up at the library the next afternoon after school, Kuroo being benched temporarily, until his grades improve.

The ravenette is a very attractive attentive teacher, explaining things to you so easily, that even a preschooler can understand it. He mixes humor and studying togther, mostly humor though.

Saying stupid chemistry jokes, making fun of other teachers and making you laugh uncontrollably by doing it.

Every time you would study together, Kuroo scooches closer to you each time with his chair.

He loves hearing your laugh, it’s the most beautiful thing he has heard in his 18 years of living.

After two months, Kuroo developed a big fat crush on you, not knowing you also started to feel the jiggles whenever you would see him at lunch in the cafeteria or in the hallway with his teammates from the volleyball club.

Kuroo started smiling a lot more and it doesn’t get unnoticed by his best friend.

The Nekoma team is on their way to the gym to go to practice when Kuroo spots you walking down the hall with one of your friends.

"Who’s that?" Kenma asks intrigued.

Kuroo keeps his hazelnut-colored eyes on you, as you walk down the hall with your friend and Kenma sees a gleam in his best friend’s eyes.

"Someone I will definitely want to get to know better and spend more time with."

The first time you met Iwaizumi Hajime, it was the day his kid got into trouble at school. His son, who is an exact replica of his father, stood up for a girl who got bullied by another boy. The little Iwaizumi boy warned the mean boy twice before he struck him down with a fist.

You as their home room teacher obviously had to call the parents, even if Isamu, the son of Hajime only did it to stand up for someone.

All the children have been picked up by their parents and you are just waiting in front of the school for Isamu’s father, who has a busy job but still has to talk to you about his son’s behavior.

When you met Isamu’s father, you weren’t prepared for a 6'1 man made out of pure muscle to show up in front of the school. His track suit had the volleyball logo and the Japanese flag on his front chest pocket and you have to pinch yourself to snap out of your drooling.

When Iwaizumi and you talked about Isamu’s behavior, the strict father scolded his son immediately but was also confused why he was violent towards a classmate because Isamu never strikes.

You assured him that Isamu stood up for a girl and that he won’t be punished for what he did and Iwaizumi feels his stomach doing small somersaults when he listens to your voice.

Thanking you for not punishing his son, Iwaizumi promises you that this won’t happen again.

With a blush and a smile on yours and the Athletic Trainer’s face, you part ways and the dark-brown haired man can’t help but be curious why his son was violent.

"Isamu, why did you punch that boy? I know I didn’t teach you to hit other kids even if they are mean." Hajime frowns at his 7 year-old.

"Uncle Tōru told me to ‘kick ass’ if someone is mean to someone else. He said I shouldn’t tell you or you will fly to Argentine and kick his." Isamu said nonchalantly while munching on his dumpling, walking beside his father to the car.

Iwaizumi can already feel his rage building up, thinking all sorts of ways how he can strangle Oikawa to teach his son this way to handle bullies.

When the Athletic Trainer remembers your kind face from just now, he can’t fight the smile that begins to grow on his face.

Maybe he will start picking his son up more often now, instead of sending Hanamaki or Matsukawa when he is too busy with work.

Funny enough, you met Daichi Sawamura when he was about to write you a speeding ticket.

You just got dumped by your ex via text message and to say you were furious about this cowardly way to break up with someone, is an understatement. (I got dumped once via text as a teen and I swear I wanted to set the world on fire)

So you were maybe driving a little bit over the speed limit, big deal.

What you didn’t expect though, is to have the hottest cop in town pulling you over for speeding.

You were so red in the face from anger, embarrassment and nervousness that Daichi honestly thought you were on drugs or something because you kept stammering when you talked.

You vented about the person that left you and Daichi listened intensely, hearing you out.

Luckily for you, he has a weakness for a beautiful messes like yourself.

He let you off with a warning, giving you a piece of paper anyway.

You’re about to crumble it up when you saw what he wrote down.

'Next time you’re thinking of speeding, don’t. Be safe and call me if you want to talk :) xxx-xxxx-xxxx'

Manga Editor Keiji Akaashi, the beautiful ravenette with the gorgeous blue eyes.

The two of you met at a coffee shop, while Akaashi needed to work some more on his deadline at work, he needed a good strong coffee to be able to stay awake.

Luckily, there’s a nearby store with the name ‘Night’s watch', a coffee shop who is only open at night.

Akaashi hasn’t tried that shop yet but according to some of the ravenette’s coworkers, it’s Game of Thrones themed.

When Akaashi enters the shop, he has to say he’s impressed with the interior design.

The room is decorated like an old tavern from the Middle Ages, some seats have sheep’s fur on them, the black stone walls decorated with swords from the show, some coats of arms of the House Targaryen, House Stark and House Baratheon.

It’s a cozy atmosphere and the drinks are not that expensive.

You were working as the barista that day and you were wearing the Hand of the King pin, meaning you are in charge of the shop if the owner is not in.

You are also kind forced to speak in Old English to costumers but thankfully you’re a literature student so it’s a piece of cake for you.

Akaashi thought you were incredibly charming and while you made his order ready, the two of you got to talk a little bit.

Funnily enough, you went to the same school but never crossed each other’s path.

Seems like Akaashi will drop by more, because it gave him some new ideas for manga tropes.

[mcgnagallsarmy]

Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #27: Monthly Key Word Reading Challenge #3

1st month - Secret, Heaven, True, House, Come, Only, Know, Winter:

A Wonderful Awful Idea by The Danish Bird [NC-17]

With nothing apocalyptic looming on the horizon and hoping to avoid a certain thick-headed commando, it seems like the perfect opportunity when Giles mentions a monster terrorising the good people of Lake Tahoe. What could be more merry than a Christmas trip to the mountains to investigate? The gang is all coming along, defanged vampire in tow. Buffy should totally be able to deal with the demon, ignore Spike and their recent “engagement,” enjoy some resort-town shopping, and be back with Mom on Christmas Eve. Right? What could possibly go wrong? Set in season 4 at the beginning of Doomed.

2nd month - Heir, Night, Bride, Down, Women, Hand, Teach, Guest:

Drive by Holly [NC-17]

Freshly turned and very grumpy about it, Buffy finds herself in a weird place. One where her friends smell like food, her former mortal enemy smells like heaven, and the so-called love of her life has made it clear that killing her is on his to-do list. Throw in some overly zealous army guys and this is not Buffy's idea of a party. So she and Spike decide to hit the road at least long enough to figure out why neither of them can hit anything else. And since they're both single and free, well, Buffy wouldn't say no to a distraction from the never-ending laugh riot that is her life. And Spike can be very, very distracting. Good thing soulless vampires can't fall in love or she might be in trouble.

3rd month - Story, Hunt, Plot, City, You, Cry, Another, Paint:

I Can Get Money by scratchmeout [NC-17]

Spike puts his past to good use to get money for Buffy. However, things become complicated when her ex shows up and targets Spike.

4th month - Darling, Funny, Familiar, Somewhere, List, Meet, Never, Word:

First Alternate by Soulburnt [NC-17]

After ‘Not Fade Away,’ Angel gets the Shanshu. A thrilled Buffy gets her curse-free soulmate. And Spike? He gets his heart shattered again. Gutted and seeing no point in staying in a world without his Slayer, Spike doesn’t hesitate when pursuing a deadly demon through a portal. He finds himself stuck in an alternate reality where he truly died closing the Hellmouth. He also finds another Buffy, one who is devastated that her Spike didn’t believe she loved him. They console each other over their losses… but are they only consolation prizes? Or can two heartbroken people get a second chance for love?

5th month - Library, Dark, Drown, Ex, Iron, Done, Love, Stranger:

If I'm Butter Than He's a Hot Knife by scratchmeout [NC-17]

Buffy meets a man at a bar on Valentine's Day.

6th month - Ink, Fragile, Road, Summer, Breath, Every, Push, Sorry:

Favor by EllieRose101 [NC-17]

Spike asks an impossible thing of Buffy––and is stunned when she says yes. Could he really have gone up in her estimation?

7th month - Mine, Again, Honey, Paradise, Still, Club, Train, Legend:

Eucharist by Holly [NC-17]

He had it all. The prophecy and the girl, merrily ever after and all that rot. But life doesn't stop.

8th month - School, Cut, Sky, Fate, Wing, Belong, Justice, Way:

The Time We Had by Dusty [NC-17]

She was there and then gone. All his life long.

9th month - Twice, World, Man, Quiet, Sweet, Hold, Shallow, Invisible:

Pardon My French by Girlytek [R]

In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to let Buffy perform a spell in French. Begins at No Place Like Home.

10th month - Vampire, Here, Mist, Death, One, Missing, Bite, Witch:

Sweet William by cawthraven [PG]

After the fall of Sunnydale, Buffy’s living in Boston and working as a waitress, grateful that here, not everyone knows her name. She’s free for once to be herself—and to grieve.

11th month - Spice, Life, Hello, Keep, Truly, Couple, Joy, Young:

Candy Corn Mischief by honeygirl51885 [NC-17]

Spike gets roped into taking Dawn trick-or-treating.

12th month - Snow, Season, Ice, Merry, White, Under, Mistletoe, Inn:

A Christmas Wish by all choseny [PG-13]

On one lonely Christmas Eve, Buffy makes a wish to a stranger and is given a glimpse of what might have been with Spike.

[vikingmagic33]

A little meet-cute in the garden leads Elain to visit Gwyn in the library. Here is the first installment for a Gwynlain fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle 3. @azrielshadowssing which happens to coincide beautifully with @gwynweekofficial and pride.

Read on AO3 here!

~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~

Gwyn raced up the darkened stairwell, before spilling out of the doorway and into the rooftop’s blistering sun. She squinted up at Rhysand. He chucked down affectionately at her disheveled appearance. “You’re late,” Rhys stated with mock annoyance.

The sun was making its descent and baked the clay roof in a crackling glow. Gwyn caught sight of steam and her vision of the horizon beyond blurred through pockets of sweltering air. She gulped it down and savored freedom on her tongue.  

“Let me guess.” Rhys continued. “Merrill has concocted some new form of torture?” 

“Nothing new about it.” Gwyn smoothed the folds of her robes and gave him an impertinent stare. 

“But still torture.” He looked immediately concerned. “I can speak to...”

“I’m fine, Rhys.” Gwyn blurted. “I’ve told you that a million times already. I’m fine. I can deal with Merrill. Shall we?” 

She reached for his arm without waiting for his response. Rhys reached down to gather her to his side, as wings appeared, and he pushed up once in a massive boost just beyond the wards. The force of the push caused her sandals to slip. She heard them drop against the roof mere seconds before he’d winnowed them away. 

The first thing Gwyn noticed was the feel of a slightly damp lawn under her feet. The River House was close enough to the water that even on a hot day, spray from the river kept the gardens dewy and fresh. She drew up her hem only slightly to peer down as her toes wiggled. Emerie had painted them a perfect robin’s egg blue at a book club sleepover the night before and Gwyn relished the look against the green and soaked the silkiness through the soles of her feet.  

Rhys had asked that she give regular reports on life within the library. Clotho was technically the correct chain of command, but Rhys had expressed an interest in speaking informally on morale and their general quality of life. Gwyn had been happy to oblige. She had a list tucked into a pocket of her robes and she respected his concern. They had been meeting regularly for months, but that was the first meeting since Rhys had suggested they move them to the River House and expand their discussion to include the new Valkyrie training program. 

“You’re getting positively tan, Gwynnie.” Cassian’s bark boomed from the back steps and Gwyn’s gaze lifted from her feet to her friend’s face. “I think you’ve got twice as many freckles as you did when I first met you.” He chuckled before reaching up to tweak the end of her nose. Nesta swatted his hand and Gwyn rubbed her palm over the spot dramatically, but still managed to stick out her tongue when nobody was looking. 

She hadn’t seen the pair on the roof, so they must have arrived sometime earlier. From the state of Nesta’s hair, they could have been flying. Then again, there was no telling what else could have tangled it so much. Gwyn eyed her friend’s appearance and lifted a brow. Nesta just shrugged. Not flying then. Gwyn grinned. She was happy for Nesta. 

“I could give you a hat.” Gwyn spun at the sound of a feminine voice behind her in the flowers and found Elain kneeling in the garden. Elain set aside a pair of shears and slowly rose to her feet, careful not to touch her dress with her filthy gloves. “Not to say that freckles aren’t very pretty. Just… if you wanted a hat, I do have plenty. I could spare a few for you. If you’d like.” 

Gwyn’s gaze traveled up to Elain’s wide-brimmed, straw hat. It had an elaborate ribbon tied just beneath her chin. The absurdity of the offer was simply adorable. Gwyn couldn’t train in a floppy garden hat, but sincerity and perhaps nerves were clear in Elain’s voice, so Gwyn did not scoff.  

“Thank you, Elain,” Gwyn replied gently. “But I can’t see that I would have any use for such a thing in the library or in the training ring.” She noticed Rhys and Cassian disappearing through the kitchen door, but Nesta waited for Gwyn. 

“But surely elsewhere...” Elain studied Gwyn’s face as though she was being asked to state the obvious. 

Gwyn’s heart lurched and her face must have fallen. She saw confusion bloom in Elain’s eyes and again her heart softened. Elain wasn’t criticizing her. To hear Nesta tell it, Elain didn’t travel very far herself, but at least she could venture into Velaris unaccompanied. Nesta stepped forward and started to speak, but Gwyn stepped between the two. 

“We don’t get much light in the library.” Gwyn chided herself for her choice of words. She felt heat creep up her neck. She sounded like a moron or some sort of neglected houseplant. 

Elain was positively glowing, standing there, in her immaculate garden and she wasn’t actually wrong. Gwyn should be going more places. Gwyn should have need of a hat. 

“None at all?” Elain stepped forward and wiped at her brow with the back of one delicate wrist. All she managed to accomplish was to trap one dark blond curl into the dampness at her temple and Gwyn hid a smile. “How can anything hope to thrive in utter darkness?” Elain sounded ready to picket. 

“They do have candles, Elain.” Nesta sounded cross and Gwyn waved her off. She didn’t want to be the source of strife between the sisters. There had been plenty of that in the past and things were just starting to settle. 

“Not everything needs to be baked in the sun, Elain. We are the Night Court, are we not? Night can be beautiful too.” Gwyn practically purred. She was shocked by the tone in her own voice. Where had that come from? 

“I guess so.” Elain huffed a breath distractedly at that pesky curl, but it did not budge. 

“Here. Let me help you out.” Gwyn reached over and tugged the curl free. “Better?” 

“Thank you, Gwyneth.” Elain breathed her laughter. “I’m a mess.” 

“Nothing wrong with a bit of sweat,” Gwyn added, froze, and tried to pivot. “You’ve been hard at work.” Gwyn pointed awkwardly to an impressive pile of rose branches discarded near Elain’s very organized workstation. It was a folded towel for her knees and a bucket of what appeared to be bonemeal. Gwyn had been impressed to hear she recycled them from kitchen scraps. “We should let you get back to it.” 

Elain nodded. “Always nice to see you, Gwyneth.”

“You too, Elain.” Gwyn took Nesta’s arm and aimed for the house. Nesta narrowed her eyes.

“What was that?” Nesta hissed. 

“I have no idea.” Gwyn lied. She did have an idea. In fact, she had several. 

“You were flirting with my sister.” Nesta accused with a hungry smile. 

“I was doing no such thing!” Gwyn denied with a pout. “I was just being nice. Can’t I be nice?” 

“Liar,” Nesta growled under her breath. “You’re never that nice to me.”

“Well. You’ve never offered me a hat.” Gwyn hid her blush by rushing forward into the house. 

~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~

Elain made her way quietly down the dimly lit hall. She wasn’t sure why she’d felt the need to sneak, assuming that was even a fair description of her behavior. But it always felt like she was sneaking around the River House or the grounds or even into Valeris. The last, she liked to consider more exploration, even if she would bet all of her allowance that her sisters would scoff at that characterization. 

Rhys could be counted upon to be visiting Feyre’s art studio in the Rainbow on most afternoons and she’d timed her trek upstairs accordingly. Elain had no interest in dealing with the High Lord. Honestly, she had no interest in interacting with anyone, save perhaps the twins. 

It wasn’t that she disliked her sisters. She didn’t even dislike the families that both had chosen for themselves, not objectively at least. But the twins didn’t avert their gazes too quickly, nor did they let them linger with confusion, when Elain’s comments or behaviors were inevitably deemed uncouth or to be based on some outdated human mindset that Elain had yet to identify and sufficiently weed out. Worse were the moments when time skipped and snagged when a vision nudged or whispered and Elain simply fell behind in conversations or trailed off in the middle of speaking. 

Elain was not some shy or shrinking violet, nor was she a masochist. Solitude was just simpler and she found she liked people more when they said less and when she didn’t have to see them. 

She didn’t usually find herself in his library. Libraries in general were foreign and unknown. Visits were not something that her late mother encouraged and familiarity hadn’t been possible in their new lives after her death. 

Elain needed information though, so she tapped lightly on the door. She sighed happily at the lack of response and turned the ornate knob. Elain pressed her shoulder against his heavy door as it swung gently into the darkness of the room beyond. Need was perhaps a strong word. Elain wanted information. The idea of a gift had bloomed in her mind and she couldn’t seem to shake it. She didn’t want to shake it. 

Ultimately, the library trip had been an utter waste of her time. It had actually taken three trips into Velaris, a visit with a local botanist, and the aid of a rather talented glass blower. Finally, she found herself standing with an awkwardly large box in her arms, asking Rhys for transport to the House of Wind and his permission to visit the library below. 

“Sure.” He dusted toast crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “I’m going up there anyway. I will take the box for you.” Rhys responded absently. Had he even noticed that it wasn’t what she’d requested from him at all? 

“I’d rather deliver them myself. Thank you though.” Elain responded as Feyre peeked over the edge of the box at the greenery within. “There are care instructions and all.” Elain shrugged and adjusted the box in her arms with the help of one knee. “If you could just let this Clotho person know that I will be visiting within the library today, you can just drop me at the entrance. I believe there is one somewhere on the roof?” 

Feyre’s head shot up before she offered with a glint of curiosity in her eye, “I can take you.”

No way. Not a chance. Elain shook her head.  

“Rhys just said he was going anyway. Did he not?” 

There was some comfort in knowing that Rhysand didn’t understand her and had no interest in figuring her out. It was neglect masquerading as privacy and she offered back resentment passing for respect. 

“It is done.” Rhys tapped his temple with one finger as he took one last bite of toast and rose from the table. He bent to plant a kiss on his son’s head and one on his mate’s cheek before heading for the door. 

Clotho had been polite and accommodating and Gwyn turned out to be fairly easy to find. 

“This one is called Bird's Nest.” Elain pointed to the first plant. “They call this one a snake plant, but I’m not sure why. The spider plant makes a little more sense when you see the little baby plants that sort of shoot off as it grows.”

“That sounds like quite the kerfuffle.” Gwyn beamed and her laughter washed over Elain. She was happy. The gift had been a good idea after all. “I’d better keep my eye on these and make sure they all stay in line.”

“Yes. Well.” Elain blushed. “And this one, it’s a bromeliad. No silly name. It even blooms without any sun. None need sun. Although they will thank you for these little bauble lights I got in town. The shop owner assured me that they mimic low sunlight.”

“Are these for light too?” Gwyn peered from across the box and reached a hand underneath for support. Their fingers brushed slightly and Elain’s pulse raced. 

“Oh, no. Those are for water.” Elain tried again to adjust her hold on the box and the whole thing nearly toppled despite being trapped between their chests. Elain managed to grab hold of a colorful orb on a long glass stem. “You fill these with water and then stick them into the dirt. They will help with watering.” 

“Thank you.” Gwyn smiled and Elain was nervous at the sheen in Gwyn’s eyes. 

“This one is poisonous to cats.” Elain blurted. “You don’t have a cat do you?”

“Sometimes I think we might, but if he’s going to prowl around here nibbling on my plants, then he deserves a bit of mischief. Don’t you think?”  

“He? If you’re not sure that there is a cat, how do you know it is male?” Elain asked, genuinely amused. 

“A girl cat would know better than to eat strange plants and probably would’ve made some friends by now. At least, with the kitchen staff.” They were talking nonsense and Elain was blissfully happy. 

“So.” Elain had no idea what to say next. “I’ll just give these to you.” Elain aimed for subtle, but managed to shove the box at Gwyn. 

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Gwyn stepped away, hands raised. “You can carry them down and help me place them around my reading nook.” She turned toward the stairs. “And I hope you mean to visit them.”

“Pardon?” Elain squeaked. 

“You can’t just give a girl a basket of living things and some vague instructions and expect them to survive.” Gwyn chided and Elain was fairly sure she was teasing her. 

“Box,” Elain mumbled. 

“Pardon?” There was definite teasing in Gwyn’s voice as she mimicked Elain’s earlier nerves. Elain blushed, though not unpleasantly, she noticed. 

“It’s a box, not a basket.” Elain clarified and Gwyn chuckled. Warmth bloomed in Elain’s chest. 

“If any of the other priestesses should want...”

“They can keep their mitts off my ferns.” Gwyn yanked the box possessively to her chest then.  

“Bromeliad.” Elain corrected. 

“See,” Gwyn called over her shoulder as she continued down the stairs. “I’m in over my head already. You simply must save me, Elain.” Perhaps they were both in over their heads, but for the first time that she could remember, Elain didn’t mind at all. 

[xxxjasontoddxxx]

Anyone else ever think about like.

Your local library?

I love my local library. I go there at least twice a week and I have so many books checked out that it will take me months to finish. But I'm in there so often they just... Don't charge me late fees. 💀

Point being, local libraries are focal points of community, learning, knowledge, and togetherness.

My local library hosts meet ups, community events, crafts, classes and lessons, book clubs, writers clubs, crafting clubs. They have programs for kids AND teens, as well as adults. You can learn English as a second language for FREE at my local library!

I LOVE my library. It stays open because of all of its programs, and we're voting soon on whether or not to expand it. I say we absolutely should! Libraries are essential to the development of life skills, knowledge, and wisdom. Children love libraries! My favorite place to hang out after school was the library, always. I would grab a book and just start reading.

Libraries are SO important to not only me, but to many people who otherwise wouldn't have access to reading material and learning opportunities!

I just love libraries.

[gleekto]

Klaine Advent 2022: Chemistry Sucks (16/17)

Summary: Nerd!Kurt/ Popular!Blaine high school AU - Kurt joins Glee club in his junior year to please his dad, though he’d rather just hide out in the library until he can graduate and get out of Lima.

Turns out he’s not the only gay kid in town. Too bad the other out gay kid is cocky and popular senior, Blaine Anderson. Sure of himself, gets all the solos, things served to him on a platter. Kurt finds him shallow and infuriating.

Blaine finds Kurt square and irritating.

Yet at a party one night, they promise to sleep together if they don’t have other opportunities by the end of the year. A dare. Naturally competitive spirits.

Day 1, Day 2,Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 14, Day 15

Chemistry Sucks (Day 16: Recast and Give)

Blaine first sees Kurt walking down the McKinley hallway, flanked by two new glee club members on either side, apparently enraptured by the tour he's giving them. Blaine's early for meeting him after the homecoming game, which Kurt unsurprisingly chose to skip.

"Speak of the devil," Kurt spots him. "It's none other than our former fearless leader, Blaine Anderson, who has come back to ensure we're off to a strong start this year."

Blaine approaches them. "Hi Kurt," He pauses. Kurt looks even better than he remembers. He's always been put together, scarves and broaches and too tight jeans that are perfect. But he has an air of command about him now, like he knows who he is.

"Hi Blaine." They smile at each other while the new kids on either side just stare silently. "Madison, Mason, this is Blaine. Our key to the big nationals win."

"Oh we know who you are and it's so nice to meet you," Mason shakes Blaine's hand enthusiastically. "We read the showchoir blogs - recasting a straight girl-guy duet with two guys. Your duet was groundbreaking."

"Novel," Madison adds.

"Fresh," Mason finishes.

"Kurt was our secret weapon, actually. You're lucky to have him." Blaine smiles quietly at him and the air feels heavy. At least to him.

"We're sure you guys have lots of catching up to do," Madison says after too long a moment. "So we're just gonna-"

"Yeah, okay," Kurt nods.

And then they're alone in the McKinley hallway. "So do you wanna-"

"Yeah, okay," Blaine agrees.

"I haven't said what yet."

"Whatever you want, wherever you want. I just want to see you."

They end up at the Lima Bean, at their usual round table in the corner, sipping a mocha and a medium drip, like nothing has changed.

"So, tell me," Blaine doesn't even know where to start.

"Tell you what?"

"Oh I don't know. I get a text one day that you're going on a third date and being an understudy and then a phone call a month later about breaking up and I mean, what happened?"

"The usual chorus understudy was sick, and they asked me," Kurt says. He's being coy.

"You were with Matteo." Blaine starts. He wants to be a good friend. A best friend. He's trying.

"I was," Kurt nods and looks down at his mocha and then back up. "And now I'm not." Blaine nods but doesn't say anything. "It was good, I think. I mean, he was not super happy that I ended it but we had a good time. We'd usually go out once or twice a week to a movie or bowling or-"

"Bowling? You?"

"I know. Obviously his idea. Anyways, we'd hang out," Kurt pauses meaningfully. "But the school year is busy and like I said when I called you, I just didn't have the time." Blaine nods, waiting. "Because I wasn't feeling enough." Kurt bites his lip. "I guess I'm still just a silly romantic, and the truth is I already know a better kisser." Blaine almost chokes on his coffee. He has to clear his throat. "Sorry, I shouldn't-"

"No, no. It's fine. Coffee just went down wrong." He takes another sip.

"Your turn," Kurt says quickly. "So how is living la vie boheme?"

"Hardly," Blaine dismisses but knows he has to give more than that. "I do like dancing at all those gay clubs though."

"Of course."

"And I went home with someone exactly twice." He sees Kurt take a gulp of his mocha.

"Same guy?"

"No. Jeff and Parker. Jeff and I just made out. He was kind of boring to be honest. Parker, we did a bit more but I didn't want to call him after. It was fun, but," Blaine knocks Kurt leg under the table deliberately.

"But." Kurt repeats.

"I also knew a better kisser," Blaine doesn't stop himself. Neither did Kurt. The pause is too pregnant and he is still going back to New York in two days.

"Can't all have legendary chemistry," Kurt smiles quietly.

Blaine shakes his head. "Guess not. So tell me about how you became the lead of the Glee club," It's a total non-sequitur but Blaine switches topics deliberately out of the danger zone. Chemistry sucks.

They close the Lima Bean down talking about the glee club, the new kids, the way to win nationals, what Kurt will like in New York, whether he should also apply to NYADA or stick with NYU. When Blaine walks Kurt to his car they hug for what feels to Blaine like five minutes straight. "It was so good to see you, Kurt." He doesn't want to let go.

...

It's almost midnight and Blaine is staring up at his ceiling in his old room in his parents house, unable to sleep. The problem is that he really does not want to see Jeff or Parker or Jeff-types or Parker-types again. There is only one thing he wants. He picks up his phone and texts.

B: I missed you.

It only takes Kurt a minute to respond.

K: I missed you too.

B: I wanted to talk to you today but I was too afraid.

K: Of what?

B: Screwing up our friendship.

K: And now?

B: Do you wanna meet somewhere and hang out while we can? The 24 hour diner near Scandals?

K: No.

B: No?

K: No. I wanna go to your house.

Blaine closes his eyes, relief and excitement washing over him.

B: Okay.

[mint-moon25]

HELLO KITTY - MOM LOVES ME AFTER ALL

HER - MAJESTY - THE - QUEEN

NEVER - ON - HER - BIRTHDAY

MONTH - MANY - IN - LONDON

BRITISH - FLAG - ON - CHEEKS

ARMS - HANDS - CLOTHES

PANTS - SHORTS - QUITE A

NICE - DISPLAY OF ENGLISH

FLAGS - SHOWS CROSS - OF

CHRIST - JESUS

CHURCH - OF - ENGLAND

WHEN - I - CALLED - LONDON

GUYS - FR - INDIA - GAVE - ME

LIFE - AND - DEATH FEMALES

SCOTLAND - YARD - I - SAID

CALLING - LONG - DISTANCE

FR - PHILIPPINES - SHE - YES

NON-VIRGIN - BEYOTCH

REMOVED - HER ACCENT

STARTED - 2 - YELL - YELL

AND - YELL - AT - ME AND

I - CALLED - ANOTHER FOR

PHILIPPINES - 2 - LIVE WHERE

BRITS - THROW - THEIR TRASH

AS - U - KNOW - HER MAJESTY

PASSED - AWAY - IN SCOTLAND

AFTER - THOSE - 2 - CALLS

PHILIPPINES - AND ENGLAND

COST - ME - $100 - MONEY US

ORDER - TOOK - MY - FIRST - &

LAST - NAME - BLOCK FR YES

ENTERING - ENGLAND AND UK

SCOTLAND YARD

FEMALES - NEVER - TRULY

GRADUATED - FR - OXFORD

UNIVERSITY - CAMBRIDGE

UNIVERSITY - WILLIAM ALSO

WENT 2 SCOTLAND COLLEGE

MET - CATHERINE ELIZABETH

I MET - DIANA - FORMER TRUE

PRINCESS - OF - WALES - B 4

SHE - MARRIED - NOW KING

THE - YELLING - 2 - KILL THE

BABY - INSIDE - PHILIPPINES

SCOTLAND - YARD - MALES

FEMALES - FR - MIDWIVES

ENGLAND - SMALL PLACE

FORMER - BITTER - EMPIRE

THEY - ALSO - INVADED THE

PHILIPPINES - ENGLAND YES

CONSENTED - 2 - HIROSHIMA

AND - NAGASAKI - WORLD 1ST

ATOMIC - BOMBS

HARRY S TRUMAN DEMOCRAT

PRESIDENT - WHO - STARTED

EA - DAY - WITH - WHISKEY

BOTH - WANTED - 2 - BLOW

UP - JAPAN - BUT - DIDN'T

SUCCEED - BOTH LAUGHING

AFTER - YELLING - OF LONDON

SCOTLAND YARD - I - ASKED - 2

SPEAK - 2 A - MALE - 'NO' - WAS

YELLED - AT - ME

5 YRS - WILLIAM - COULD

MARRY - KATE

HER - MAJESTY - THE QUEEN

WHO - I - MET - TWICE - PALACE

AS - FORMER - ROYAL - BALLET

ALWAYS - PROGRAMS 4 KIDS

FORMER - POPE - OF - VATICAN

MET - HIM - ONLY - KIDS LUCKYI

2 - MEET - ANYONE - NOW - WE

OLDER - PROSTITUTES - OR

YES - ILLEGAL PROSTITUTES

LAS VEGAS - NEVADA - DESERT

KITTY - CLUBS

REAL - KITTENS - 2 - PET

HIDDEN - CAMERAS - 2 YES

PROTECT - THEM - NO NUDITY

SEEN - WE - WILL - ESCAPE

THEM - B 4 - MISTREATMENT

KITTY - CLUBS - HAS - STORES

2 - FOR - ALL - AGES - BUT - ID

IS - SCANNED - BUT - ANIMATED

IMAGE - PUT - ON - SKIN - SO - IT

GLOWS - WITH - OUR - MACHINE

AFTER - CALL - SOON - TRAINS

COLLIDED - HER - MAJESTY

DIED - IN - SCOTLAND - SINCE

I - AM - DIRECT - LINE - 2 HER

MAJESTY - QUEEN - MARY OF

SCOTTS - FR - HER - SON YES

FRENCH - ARISTOCRACY

HAVE - THROUGHOUT - AGES

FOUND - LOOK-ALIKES

THEY - ARE - WHO - WERE

BEHEADED - KING LOUIS

QUEEN - MARIE ANTOINETTE

THEIR - SON (s) - ESCAPED AS

I'M - FRENCH - ARISTOCRACY

FR - KING LOUIS - LAST - KING

OF - FRANCE - AS - GETTING

REGION - OF - BRITTANY - AS

THEY - SELL - ORGANIC

APPLES - IF - ONLY FOR

FREDDY COUSIN - BROWN

LONDON - AND - UK MEANS

NOTHING - 2 - ME

OF - FRENCH - ARISTOCRACY

FRENCH - ARMED - FORCES AS

MALES - MOST - UNDEFEATED

ARMY - IN - THE - WORLD - WE

WILL - NEVER - B - INTERESTED

IN - UNITED KINGDOM - BY

MARRIAGE - BRITTANY YES

BECAME - FRANCE - FINALLY

PARIS - GIVEN - 2 - FRANCE FR

ENGLISH - ROYALTY - ALSO - 2

TODAY - OUR - 300 MILLION

CHINESE - MALE - SOLDIERS

LONDON - PEOPLE - OUTSIDE

THEIR - POLICE - AND ARMED

POLICE - 'HOME - SWEET YES

HOME' - CAB - DRIVERS

BUT - TODAY - 2 - GET MIAMI

POLICE - JUST - GO - 2 MAIN

LIBRARY - THEY - PARKED

ARMED - IN - FRONT DESK

CAMERAS - SEEN - FR YES

THERE - MIAMI POLICE DEPT

NW 2 AV - LOTS - OF - BLAH

BLAH - 2 - TALK - 2 - ANYONE

LIKE - HONORABLES - THEY

PROTECT - EACH - OTHER

BECAME - POLICE - 4 - PAID

FUEL - PAID - CARS - ARMED

$5,000 - FIREARMS - EACH

NO - SMILES - FR - MIAMI

POLICE - WHITE - OR - BLK

HUGE - BREASTS - TALL HGT

LOOKS - DOWN - ON - UGLY

ASIAN - PLOT - FACE SMALL

EYES - NO - BREASTS - NO

HAIR - BELOW - WAIST - AS

THEY - LIKE - WHITE - OR BLK

GIRLS - WITH - HUGE MOUTHS

WHO - SUCK - THEIR - PEE PEE

RECEIVE - THEIR - HUGE

PENETRATION - WHO ENTER

THEIR - ASS - SO - CAN - YES

KNOCK - OUT - AS - THEY

BRING - BREASTS - UP AND

DOWN - NO - PREGNANT

FEMALES - CAN - SLEEP

IN - LIBRARY - WITH - DUE

PROCESS - OF - LAW MIAMI

POLICE - SHOOTING - ASIANS

HAITI - BLK - MIAMI - POLICE

SHOOTING - PREGNANT GIRLS

USA - CRAZY - NATION

MURDERERS - ROBBERS

BIBLE - 'EYES - WILL NOT

SEE - EARS - WILL NOT HEAR

WHAT - GOD - HAS - IN STORE

2 - WHO - LOVES - HIM'

MIAMI - POLICE - DOESN'T

SMILE - THEY - HANDCUFF

WITH - METAL - AND - THEY

SLAM - 2 - CAR - AND GROUND

THEY - REMOVE - CLOTHES

PUT - IN - CORRECTIONAL

FACILITIES - KICK - BOX HIT

WHY - WE'RE - CLOSING

FACILITIES - ENDING POLICE

SHERIFFS - CLOSING - THEIR

PLACES - 1 BUTTON - THEY

THOSE - PLACES - DISAPPEAR

AS - ASIANS - WE - WILL HAVE

FACES - WORTH - LOOKING AT

US - POLICE - WHEN - THEY

FINALLY - SMILE - NOT GREAT

MAKES - THEM - LOOK WORST

THE - POOR - IN - THE FUTURE

HDG - BANKS - EXCLUDES

SECURITY 2 - ARMED JOBS

[narasnooze]

@uchieha asked:

somewhere in the in betweens of classes and studying,      sasuke and shikamaru established a book club.       it’s more book than club,    really,    as the ritual is just a quick exchange of recent reads with maybe a five minute discussion the next morning—      if they’re feeling generous.      sasuke doesn’t know how it happened,      or why,    months later,      they’re still meeting at the library front every tuesday.      but neither of them had said anything to dissolve this threadwire book club.

so here they are.

it was sasuke’s turn last week.       he had given shikamaru his copy of dazai osamu’s no longer human,      the pages littered with crooked underlines and margin-tucked notes.       it was a dark and poignant read;      he thought shikamaru might like it.

the air is cool in the absence of the sun.       the library is filled with sleepless students.       “   so,   ”    sasuke begins.    “   any thoughts?   ”

//    i feel like college!au sasushika wld get along quite well,      given their solitary similarities    (and bookworm tendencies ehehehe)    i just think…      they’d understand each other without having to communicate much,      like mutual recognition but unspoken?       so this    “book club”    is more of an attempt for friendship as they don’t rlly know how to initiate bonds after accepting solitude as inevitable parts of themselves.       i think they’re Neat hehe :3     ��hope it’s alright for me to send this in!!

   He replied with a small nod first, holding the book out towards the Uchiha without searching for eye contact. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and seemingly tired. Almost as if his throat was sore.

   “It was quite capturing.. I couldn’t put it down, actually.” Hence why the skin underneath his eyes were a slightly darker shade than his normally dark rings. He’d even skipped a test only to read this book. He’d actually read it twice. He was not going to mention the fact that he had grown rather attached to the character... That’d be weird. Though, he did have a feeling that Sasuke would somehow understand.

   “Uhm... I’ve heard that there is an manga adaption of this, by Juni Itō. I haven’t read that. I prefer stories in this form.. but I do like his artwork. So it might be worth a look.  Thank you for lending it to me..   I–  uhm–” He looked down to the bag he was holding in the other hand and once Sasuke had taken his book back, Shikamaru dug into the bag and pulled out a book of his own. “This is a rather new one..” Magipie, by Elizabeth Day. 

   “Maybe you’ve read it already..?”

[willel]

I thought Hopper and Bob were stated to be old friends from high school even though they didn't exactly cross paths. Maybe like you said, they knew each other but did not exactly talk while Bob was secretly crushing on Joyce. Hmm... I wonder how they're gonna portray that then? Because from what we know, Joyce did not exactly have a connection to Bob until later on. Are they gonna just kinda change that? If that's not the case it would mean that we're just gonna most likely see Joyce and Hopper together instead, with a little bit of Bob, also I am not sure how correct it is but the wiki says that Bob was classmates with Joyce and Hopper, which is ig interesting. I do not think Bob would be 2-3 years old younger than Hopper or Joyce though because it is said that Hopper and Bob knew each other and were friends to an extent, I think they must have been in the same year for them to meet, but I am not sure. I just wonder how they're gonna connect their dynamic together since Joyce is said to be unaware of Bob's existence whereas Hopper seems to have a more connection to Bob when they were in highschool.

I'm imagining a situation where Hopper is the kid that kinda talks to everyone but isn't exactly super close friends with anyone? The one that's always chill but doesn't get too close.

So it'd make sense if he was friends or friendly with both Bob and Joyce but Joyce and Bob never actually crossed paths/met face to face.

One hour he's skipping class smoking cigarettes with Joyce under the stairs. The next hour he's with Bob in the library as Bob is trying to help him write a paper.

Next hour, I guess he's screwing a girl in the back of his dad old car as he claim he did in season 1.

If I had to guess what they're going to do with Bob, he's going to be connected to Hopper, who is connected to Joyce. Maybe it's possible out of all the kids, Bob is the one that interacted with Henry once or twice. He created and looked over the middle school AV club after all and that seems like something Henry would be interested in.

Then again, I don't think Henry was THAT into it because Will was able to use morse code to get by the Mind Flayer's mental block on him. If Henry knew Will was using morse code, surely he would've stopped him from doing that too. Then again, he was only there for a month, so it's not like Henry could've memorized morse code that quick. It could fit actually.

Bob really cared a lot about the whole outcast thing and being bullied. And how he never stood up to his bullies and admired that Joyce did. I dunno. I can see that coming into play.

Imagine a repeat of season 2. Bob telling Henry,

Bob: If my parents treated me that way. I would stand up to them once and for all. You get me? Don't be afraid to talk to your parents.

Henry: Oh ok. -goes home later that night and tries to murder everyone-

Bob seeing the news: Oh... his parents really were terrible. His dad ended up murdering him. :C

Pfff. Random thought don't take it too seriously. But anyway.

As for the same year thing, that's not necessarily true. Take Robin for example. I think she's a year behind Steve but shared at least 1 class with him. Depending on the high school, the subject, and the student, it's not odd for there to be younger and older students together in the same class. I wouldn't be surprised if Bob was super smart and was put into some higher level classes. Not sure if the concept of "AP class" existed back then but maybe it did.

So it'd be like:

Bob - direct interactions with Henry encouraging him to defend himself, much like he did for Will

Hopper - No interactions with Henry but has interactions with Bob, Joyce, and his parents. We got a lot of Hopper exposition in the show already to be honest so I don't think we need too much more

Joyce - No interactions with Henry or Bob but interacts with Hopper . Will probably learn about her family dynamics and how she came to know Lonnie. May have very indirect connections to the Creel tragedy.

Henry - Might barely appear to be honest, might be more focused on Virginia Creel and an occasional scene with Bob or something

At the very least could make for some fun fanfiction one shots!

[deadpoolismylife]

Sometimes I browse my city’s government website just for fun

Like the library all on its own is so badass with so many programs but then you get into the different orgs that meet at the library

Did you know my town has a human rights committee? I didn’t they meet once a month and hold cultural events

Then the calendar! Such a cool thing the city calendar! Free picnic at the plaza with live music today wow! Exhibition by the WEAVERS GUILD WE HAVE ONE OF THOSE!!?? A death acceptance coffee club that meets twice a month WHERE HAVE THESE PEOPLE BEEN ALL MY LIFE!!!

Yeah so anyways check out your community and support your library especially

[krazykiki05]

TVD IMAGINE

"Okay! Okay. Um.... Drink... If you've slept with Y/N." Caroline dares. Elena scoffs.

"No ones going to drink." Elena rebuttals. Caroline smirks in Y/Ns direction.

Damon, Stefan, Elijah, Klaus, Jeremy, Matt, Rebekah, and Marcel all drink. Elena's mouth falls agape. Caroline laughs. Y/Nsnickers

"Wha-How-When!?" Proper words couldn't escape Elena.

"Yeah, good question... When?" Caroline asked. Stefan went first.

"Uh, 1890. She was a barmaid. The prettiest one." Stefan answered. Damon raised his hand like a kid in school.

"1905. Met in a library."

"Why we're you in a library?" Stefan asked his brother.

"Looking for food." Damon answered in a duh tone. It was Elijahs turn. The original chuckled at the silly game.

"Um, 1910. The cliche of meeting in a club." Elijah answered.

"1923 if I remember correctly. She was a nurse in a hospital when I was trying to grab some food. She spotted me and we made a deal." Marcel tries to hide his smile.

"1970s. Homosexuality was starting become common. There was actually a brief moment in history where I didn't know what I was. And Y/N happened to be there to help me find out." Rebekah answered. Elijah and Klaus look at each other, slightly grossed out all three of them kept with the same person.

"Uh, I was getting over Vicki. I was so numb I just needed to feel something." Matt answered. Jerry hits his arm lightly.

"Hey, mine was getting over Anna." Damon hisses.

"Ouch. How does it feeling being the rebound girl, twice?" Y/N smirks.

"Who says they weren't rebound boys." Jeremy and Matt fakes being shocked and hurt. Everyone turns to Klaus. The only one who hasn't answered.

"Every night for the past month." Everyone makes a sound of disgust, Damon went as far as fake gagging. Klaus kisses Y/N on the lips before leaning down next to her ear. "Although I don't know how I feel about you having slept with Marcel." Y/N rolls her eyes.

"How long has this been a thing!?" Damon asks.

"Appearantly a month." Jeremy answers.

[yoditorian]

crush

eddie/gn!reader

i am being dragged out of my hiatus by the newest scruffy sad brown eyed man on the roster hELP

main masterlist // stranger things masterlist

word count: 1.6k // warnings: language, my usual brand of wistful longing, inclusion of my actual high school memories in the name of realism, the tense is a little weird bc he’s recounting memories but in the present, and since i’ve not posted for ST before pls note that as a general rule with all my writing this is 18+ please no babies

The first time wasn’t his fault, not exactly.

Exceptional circumstances he’d rather not relive any time soon sent every one of his grades into a nosedive that he had no hope of salvaging. Senior years are kind of like pancakes anyway, the first one’s always a write off.

He was looking forward to it, oddly enough. A fresh start. As fresh as it could be in the exact same school, with the exact same teachers, and six hundred people he should have left behind already. Maybe it was a little more depressing than he wanted to admit. But Hellfire was growing, and if anything was going to make this next year bearable it was Thursday nights in the drama club prop room. Well, that’s the way he thought it was going to go.

And then you sat in front of him in English, and Eddie was a goner.

It was the Levi’s at first. Pale blue denim that fit just right sliding into the seat in front of his every morning, at 8:31 exactly. Was it a little creepy of him to get to class a few minutes early, just to watch? Definitely. Did he still make sure he was firmly at his own desk by 8:29 after the first time he’d made it there before you? Absolutely. 

He played the moment you spun around in your chair to ask if he had a pencil sharpener on a loop in his mind for 3 months straight after it happened. 

Okay, so he played the more ideal version. 

The version where Old Mr Young is droning on about another one of Iago’s soliloquies, where you turn around in your chair to meet his eyes - shining like beacons in the morning sunlight - and ask.

“Do you have a pencil sharpener I can borrow?”

A version where he’s cool and collected. He leans down and plucks the green sharpener out of his bag, holds it out to you between two fingertips. An easy smile, a quiet sure thing, the barest brush of your hand against his as you take it from him. He watches you turn your yellow striped HB once, twice, three times, before you turn back with a smile and set it down beside his own pencil. 

“Thanks. It’s Eddie, right?”

And he nods with a mirroring smile as you give him your name in turn, as if he didn’t already know. 

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says, and you turn back to your notes with a bashful little smile. 

He wished he said.

Reality had other plans. Plans involving freezing for a full thirty seconds in your gaze, trying desperately to work out what it was you were asking him, when all he could do was watch your mouth. Where he knew he must have looked like a deer in headlights, fishing around in his bag for another long minute trying to find the damn thing. He practically threw it at you. At least you’d been nice about it, still put it back on his desk carefully with a whispered thank you.

Honestly, he thought it would stop there. He thought you’d be a way to fill the first hour of his day, some soft daylight fantasy he could indulge in because English was the one class he never had a problem with. And, for a while, you were. 

Until he realised he could see your usual lunch table just over Gareth’s right shoulder from his spot in the cafeteria. Then, of course, he started seeing you everywhere.

Your locker was across the hall from his; you cut through the library to get to math at the same time he used it to get to history; you skipped the odd class with a friend in the same stairwell he used to use to cut deals; your name freshly carved into the wooden desk by his seat in chemistry. It was embarrassing.

He heard you laugh for the first time in December. 

Just a few days before the Christmas break, clear as a bell across the cafeteria in a rare lull of activity, there was no denying who’s laugh it was - Eddie almost snapped his neck looking up to find you. 

Whatever your friend said had clearly tickled you, left you with a smile so wide it was a wonder your cheeks didn’t split apart under the pressure. His own reaction to the sound took him by surprise, he was sure he would have fallen if he hadn’t already been sitting. His heart flipped so violently that for a second he thought it might stop altogether; jealousy flared in his stomach for the briefest of moments, because he needed to be the reason you make that sound again about as much as he needed oxygen. But it dies just as quickly, maybe he could be if he wasn’t such a chickenshit.

Winter came and went and while he’d managed to stop looking for you everywhere he went, he was no less deep in the shit with this crush. He’d stopped looking for you, that didn’t mean he’d stopped noticing you. But of all the unlikely places for you to show up, he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you walk into detention after the last bell, with Steve Goddamn Harrington in tow. 

Two seats left, and The Hair took the one at the front - which just left the second chair at Eddie’s desk.

You brought a waft of laundry detergent with the barest hint of regret with you when you dropped into the seat beside him with a huff and pulled a book from your bag. Maybe not regret for whatever landed you there, but an air of reluctant acceptance for getting caught.

His reason for yet another pink slip sat in front of him on the desk, Ms O’Donnell’s essay from two weeks ago still unfinished - though not for lack of trying, he’d spent the majority of the night before staring at the half empty page willing something, anything, to bring him inspiration. But it was no use, and he missed another extended deadline. 

You were your own enigma. Not a face he ever thought he’d see in the detention room, by your own doing anyway. Maybe you’d caught Mr Hamilton in one of his moods and ended up on the receiving end of the wrath wound up by another unruly 9th grade geography class. 

Young Mr Young wasn’t paying much attention anyway, far more interested in whatever magazine he was definitely hiding behind the decoy textbook in his hands, so Eddie bit the bullet and tore the corner from his notebook page.

What are you in for?

He folded the paper twice and slid it across the doodles on the tabletop towards you, stretching his arm out to leave it directly in the middle of your book. So much for subtlety. You raised an eyebrow, more to yourself than for his sake, and stole his pen to scrawl a short reply below his question. You folded the scrap of paper back up, a third time for good measure, and dropped it on his notebook without looking at him. 

Marrows caught me and Harrington climbing into the ceiling in the music room.

Eddie had never needed context so badly in his life.

He took a split second to check whether Young Mr Young was sufficiently distracted before swivelling ninety degrees on his chair to face you fully, eyes wide with questions.

“We babysit the same group of kids. One of them had a nightmare, he said there was something hiding in there, so we promised to check.” Your voice was barely a whisper, eyes still firmly on the open book in your hands. But something told him you weren’t completely in the room anymore. 

“And?”

“No monsters. Just some cobwebs and a mouse.”

You shrugged the sudden shadow off your shoulders and turned the page of your book as if you hadn’t said anything at all. Honestly, he’s grateful you didn’t look at him, the soft tone of your voice sent his mind to unsavoury places.

Then, it was over.

For all his hard work and sleepless nights and pure desperation, he still didn’t make the cut. Ms O’Donnell wouldn’t budge on her decision to fail him again, despite the grovelling, despite the fact he would have passed the year before if he hadn’t spent finals week shifting all his shit to his uncle’s trailer, despite the fact that he knew he had the credits for it this time. Stubborn. He’d baulked a little at his results paper, barely scraping a C in English, though that one was his own fault. Well, technically speaking it was Levi Strauss’s fault. So he watched everything he worked for slip away. Including any chance he might have to pluck up the courage with you.

And now, you’re here. Right in front of him.

It’s fucking ridiculous, his long dormant crush rearing its head at a moment like this, because it’s not like you’re an ex. Not like you ever dated, ever broke his heart, it’s not as if he loved you and lost you and never got over it. But maybe that’s the problem, the lack of closure.

Because you just left. You graduated and left and moved on and he stayed stuck because he couldn’t make the grade yet again. And he can’t even be mad about it because he barely said two words to you over the course of the whole year. 

But here you are. Nudging your way around Steve and Dustin to crouch on the grimy floor in front of him. All big eyes and reassuring smile. The sun comes out, peering stubbornly through the grimy window to shine on your face and your face alone. It’s love, the heat that rises so fiercely behind his lungs it threatens to crack his ribs, he’s sure of it. 

“Eddie, we’ve got you, okay?”

Maybe that’s what makes him believe you.

taglist (add yourself to my stranger things taglist here):

@bee-dameron​ 

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[mandu-17]

Cho Miyeon headcanon | Enemies to lovers

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: Can I request a miyeon hc where reader and her are both rivals in math competitions and end up dating each other please?

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff, High School AU

A/N: okay miyeon’s been bias wrecking me hard lately and the thought of seeing her live next month makes me wanna pass out

When you signed up to a math club you totally didn’t expect that the smartest student there would also be the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen

At first you actually kind of hated Miyeon

She only distracted you from solving math problems and you could never focus while being in the same room as her

Maybe it was because of her bright smile that for some reason made you glance at her for a few seconds more than intended

Or the way she’d lick her lips from time to time while thinking hard on another exercise

Either way, your scores were always the highest whenever Miyeon couldn’t attend study sessions

And if she was in the classroom then it often resulted in both of you arguing because of how different your methods for a certain problem were

Miyeon’s ideas were new and innovative, they were far from definitions written in books which were the basic pillar of your knowledge

Your teacher usually had to interfere and assure that both solutions were correct in order for Miyeon and you to calm down

Still, she’d glare at you afterwards or sometimes smirk satisfied with herself

That’s how study sessions looked like until trigonometry came up - your favorite unit of all

Miyeon kept frowning at her piece of paper, she even stayed silent and didn’t disagree with your answer

Somehow it felt very weird not to hear her voice so often, even weirder thing happened when the teacher dismissed you and Miyeon came up to ask you in the softest voice you had heard from her

“Could you explain this to me?”

It was also the first time she had really spoken to you, not hissed or yelled

You felt a bit conflicted and surprised about her question but agreed after some consideration

She suggested to meet in the library on Friday after school

Another surprise, she brought you a cup of coffee

“Uh… I thought you hated me.”

You thanked her with a frown, which probably made Miyeon feel uneasy too

“I never did hate you. I actually admire you a lot. You have an amazing memory, it’s impressive. I thought you were the one who hated me, to be honest.”

Your eyes wide met hers equally shocked

“No, I don’t hate you either. And I mean I admire you too, you’re very smart.”

And very pretty

Luckily you didn’t say that

Both of you giggled at how unreal that situation was before finally getting to work

Miyeon told you what her struggles were and you patiently explained every aspect she had mentioned

You felt relieved that your brain could actually function while sitting this close to her

Your knee bumped into hers a couple of times or her hand brushed yours once or twice

She even smelled incredibly

Aside from helping the girl, the two of you could also chat and get to know each other a little more

Turned out Miyeon was also extremely funny and down to earth, talking to her came very natural

You were smiling the whole time without realizing

Afterwards, Miyeon kept thanking you as if you had revealed to her the biggest mystery of all

With a kiss on your cheek, she left you at the school gate in a dreamy-like state, all warm inside

Later at home, you found out that Miyeon had somehow sneaked a small piece of paper with her phone number into one of your notebooks

“Hey nerd.”

You bit your lip in anticipation of her reply

Every math problem could be solved, you thought with your heart pumping in your chest

[estherdedlock]

I don’t know why I keep walking into libraries and bookstores thinking I’m going to find something that gives me even a whisper of the feeling that I got from The Secret History. I mean, before I read TSH, it had been years since I read anything so bewitching. Why I think lightning is going to strike twice in less than a year is beyond me. 

Anyway, the latest endeavor is Tara Isabella Burton’s The World Cannot Give.

You may stumble across this novel and read the interior flap and get excited:

“Brideshead Revisited meets Fight Club in this novel about a prestigious boarding school’s cultic chapel choir---and the obsessively ambitious, terrifyingly charismatic girl who rules over its members.”

Sounds good, right? I mean, obviously this is a Secret History-ish piece of deliberate dark academia, but hey, so what? Brideshead Revisited meets Fight Club? Why not?

That description is a fakeout. Early promos of the novel called it “The Girls meets Fight Club...” The Girls was a 2016 novel by Emily Cline, loosely based on Charles Manson’s cult, so that actually made a little more sense. I think they changed it to Brideshead Revisited because some marketing genius thought it would attract the dark academia types (like yours truly). I’ll bet they probably would have preferred to call out The Secret History, but decided not to after the author strenuously criticized TSH in a Gawker article two months before her book was published. More on that later. At any rate, The World Cannot Give is neither Brideshead Revisited nor Fight Club. If anything, it’s Pretty Little Liars meets a teensy bit of Dead Poets Society.

And of course, it’s The Secret History. Or wants to be. Laura Stearns is our Richard Papen, another hopeless wannabe from the tacky suburban West (Nevada, not California) who finds herself enthralled by the august atmosphere of an elite New England school, St. Dunstan’s Academy in Maine. Her longing for “beauty and meaning” is fueled by an obsession with someone named Sebastian Webster, who attended the same school in the 1930s. Dubbed “the prep school prophet,” Webster wrote one religiously-themed novel based on his years at St. Dunstan’s, then converted to Catholicism and ran off to Spain to fight FOR the fascists (!!!) during the Spanish Civil War, where he was killed at the romantic age of nineteen.

Instead of Julian’s class, the “secret society” of St. Dunstan’s is the six-member choir that sings evening prayer in the campus chapel every Friday night. Henry Winter’s role is taken by Virginia Strauss, the beautiful black-haired, blue-eyed choir leader who’s also infatuated with Sebastian Webster and his religious desire to reject the “sclerotic modern world” (a quote from Webster’s novel that is repeated ad nauseam) and become “World-Historical” (another oft-repeated quote from Webster).

It’s not a bad setup and it’s actually pretty readable. I didn’t want to throw it out the window, like A Little Life. It’s not categorized as YA, but, like If We Were Villains, it’s a very YA novel in tone, pace, and writing style. But I’d have to say IWWV is a better book because at least it’s fun. And it has Shakespeare. TWCG is not fun. It’s one of those books that has an obvious author’s agenda. That’s not my assumption: Burton admitted it herself. In a March 2022 essay that Burton wrote for LitHub, she says that her book is “an homage to and subversion of” the campus novel.

It’s not the homage that grates, but the “subversion.” Lest you find yourself, like Laura, beguiled by aesthetics and atmosphere, the book hammers you with warnings: The campus is calcified in meaningless tradition. Virginia and her clique adopt an actual fascist as their artistic and spiritual role model. The school’s faculty is so clueless that no one notices Virginia is literally--and rather extravagantly--losing her mind.

All this obvious messaging wouldn’t be so bad if we’d ever had a chance to feel beguiled in the first place. There’s little here to attract even those with “a morbid longing for the picturesque.” Virginia is an unappealing and creepy fanatic who dresses like a Dickensian widow and whose religious beliefs swing between punitive orthodoxy and sour, self-pitying disillusion. Laura is a colorless sadsack who practically disappears from huge portions of the novel. The rest of the characters don’t deserve mention because they are so undeveloped.

The explosive confluence of spiritual fervor and adolescent passion is rich territory to mine for fiction, but Burton never delves into it. Her characters idolize Sebastian Webster and his mediocre teenage writings, but all of them (even the  supposedly brilliant and devout Virginia) seem to have little interest in actual Christian theology and philosophy, and not much real (or even performative) faith---no one even goes to church on Sunday! Burton herself has a doctorate in theology from Oxford and writes extensively about religion, so this must be a deliberate, “subversive” choice: making it glaringly obvious to readers that everything about the choir clique is superficial. They’re just dumb kids, self-importantly playing around with dangerous delusions and not thinking of the consequences. Just like the Greek class, get it??

After YA-style forays into romantic rivalries, cruel social media pranks, and a leaked sex tape, the consequences come...and they’re unbelievable, excessive, and unearned (while also leaning offensively into the old “kill your gays” cliché). The big calamity happens so close to the end of the novel that readers have no chance to process it, so to make it feel “meaningful,” Burton ends the book with several heavy-handed pages of Laura’s rambling reflections about what she’s supposedly learned from all this drama and death, such as:

...sometimes you can decide to say no to the world; maybe you can even affirm it, even if you don’t believe it, deep down, even if you are old and wise enough to know how wrong you are, and maybe, Laura thinks, that’s what strength is.

Okaaaay.

I’m inclined to be hard on The World Cannot Give because Burton’s essays on campus novels and The Secret History were published right before its release, and so they were part of the publicity campaign for her book. And that’s where things get interesting.

She criticizes TSH for characters that are not “likeable” and “little more than aesthetic tropes“ who “lack any sense of internal conflict” and are also devoid of “human specificity.” She accuses the book of what she calls “bleak nihilism” and a “disdain for the dignity of human life itself.” And finally, she complains that “we never actually see anyone transformed,” and that TSH treats its readers “with chilling contempt.”

To write such pointed criticism of The Secret History while you are promoting your own version of The Secret History, is some remarkable chutzpah, especially when The World Cannot Give is guilty of nearly everything of which Burton accuses TSH. Not to mention it’s considerably more juvenile, less interesting, and with none of Donna Tartt’s exquisite writing or talent for plot development. If this is “subversion,” then I’ll take the “nihilism” of The Secret History any day.

In that Gawker piece, Burton elaborates:

As The Secret History, and I, enter our fourth decade, I reread the book, curious whether my adolescent revulsion was a function of my own immaturity or some kind of literary envy (after all, who doesn't want to write a fabulously successful debut novel about Greek-reading teenagers?)...at 31 no less than at 17, I am enough of an idealist to think that the only proper response to that world remains the same revulsion I felt then.

If The World Cannot Give is Burton’s answer to The Secret History, then I’d say  immaturity and literary envy are things she still needs to work on.

***********************

Links to the articles mentioned in this post:

LitHub: https://lithub.com/how-campus-novels-reveal-the-power-and-danger-of-pure-ideas/

Gawker: https://www.gawker.com/culture/tartt-for-tartts-sake-the-secret-history-at-30