#Library Love Reading Challenge

[bargainsleuthbooks]

📚🎧Stacking the Shelves: January 25, 2025 #BookHaul #ARCReview #LibraryLove #BannedBooks

It's time for my weekly round-up on media I've acquired, whether it be advanced reader's copies from NetGalley and Edelweiss, library borrows, or purchases. Lots on all counts! #BookReview #BookSky #BookBlogger #BannedBooks #LibraryLove #BookHaul

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Have at it! :D

[fictionadventurer]

Potential Victober Reading List

Short List Bare minimum of books to meet every challenge

The Doctor's Wife by Mary Elizabeth Braddon (group read)

No Name by Wilkie Collins (a serialized book, book that plays with form, and a book by Wilkie Collins)

The Warden by Anthony Trollope (a book about religion)

An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde (Victorian drama)

Longer List If I want separate books for each challenge

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson (serialized)

The Time Machine by H.G. Wells (plays with form)

A Dark Night's Work by Elizabeth Gaskell (serialized)

Books It Might Be Nice To Finish This Month

An English Squire by Christabel R. Coleridge

The Three Brides by Charlotte M. Yonge

Extras Books I Have Around That I Might Be Tempted to Pick Up

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte (no way I'll have time for it, but it's such a pretty copy)

The Half-Sisters by Geraldine Jewsbury

On the Back of the North Wind by George Macdonald (I still need to read my copy)

Oscar Wilde's fairy tales (I just bought a copy at a book sale)

Verses on Various Occasions by John Henry Newman (I found it on the free ebook site yesterday, the religion prompt would be a good excuse to finally read Newman, and poetry seems like an easy place to start)

Ellen Middleton by Georgiana Fullerton (Just heard about this in a video this morning, couldn't resist downloading when I heard it praised and learned it was by a Catholic author)

[lovebooksforeversblog]

Trans rights readathon books 📚 recommendation 💖😇✨

[supportstudies]

100 Days of Productivity (36/100)

March 12th 2024

LIBRARY HAUL WOOOOO I LOVE THE PUBLIC LIBRARY LETS GOOO WOOOOOOO!!!! They had all of the ms marvel graphic novels and all of fruits basket! I’m gonna go insane theres so many manga on my to read list there lots of good old stuff. I’m a pre 2015 anime/manga supremacist that was the Time the Peak. Today was pretty productive, I got my book club book, worked, made my mom come visit me at work and then we played some of the games when I clocked out- It was a really sweet and nostalgic moment because I used to go to the cec I work at as a kid! it’s changed a lot but we still have the sketchbook machine and so we took a pic on that to put on the fridge. Anyways I’m gonna read before I go sleep time and tomorrow is gonna be cleaning and rest day!

🎧 - Maneater, Daryl Hall & John Oates

Productivity/Self Care

work!!

went to library and got books

finally started reading kenobi I’m so late but we speed run

started reading the first ms marvel graphic novel

checked in with my bestie mary mwah @drp3rky

brought a friend a covid test!! they’re negative!! woo!!!

planned for tomorrow

napped

see you guys tomorrow !

[onbeingadreamer]

Books/plays/short stories I read in 2024

Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller

The Gambler and a A Nasty Business by Fyodor Dostoevsky

A thousand splendid suns by Khaled Hosseini

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

The Pearl by John Steinbeck

Looking for Alaska by John Green

One Day by David Nicholls

My Body by Emily Ratajkowski

God Help the Child by Toni Morrison

Girl in the Blue Coat by Monica Hesse

Black girl / White girl by Joyce Carol Oates

The Carrie Diaries by Candace Bushnell

Popular Music from Vittula by Mikael Niemi

Better than the Movies by Lynn Painter

Voices in the Evening by Natalia Ginzburg

The Mire by Liza Marklund

Simon & Sophie by Emma Granholm

Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami

Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls by Elena Favilli

Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

[fakemagicjaye]

yooooo i'm done inking the :'^) first half...... of the chapter..... i'll do the greys and then post it sorryyyyyyy

[bdazzlebooklover]

Who else absolutely loves these books??

[charlottedabookworm]

just realised that the first rick riordan book i ever read was actually the book he wrote for the 39 Clues series lol

[bargainsleuthbooks]

📚🎧Stacking the Shelves: February 22, 2025 🎬📺🧹 #BookHaul #ARCReview #LibraryLove #Wicked #Biography

It's time for Stacking the Shelves, a look back at the media I've acquired this past week, whether it's ARCs, library borrows, or purchases. #Bookthreads #StackingtheShelves #Books #Booksky #BookBlogger #LibraryLove #Edelweiss #NetGalley #Wicked #ARCReview #DesiArnaz #TheBlackPack #DoctorWho

[katherinamaveti]

1949

I found out that my oldest book is from 1949. 1949!!! And, for some reason, it is in better condition than some of my new books.

How old is your oldest book?

[morrithal]

Okay Camp Damascus first THEN Gideon. I need one last wee novel before I commit to that beast

[ariesmoonscorpiorising]

The first 7 books of 2025 that I’ve read!

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay I don’t know how this is going to work exactly but I’m not reading book synopses anymore, I’ve just decided

[super-jane5]

2024 Reading Summary

[sixeyesonathiel]

finally birthing male manipulator satoru with girl failure reader wwww

gojo satoru was used to getting what he wanted.

and he wanted you.

not in some deep, profound way—god, no. not at first. it started as a game. a challenge. a passing amusement that piqued his interest one random thursday morning when you stammered out an apology after bumping into his desk, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. he watched you trip over your own words, clutch your pen like a lifeline, and tuck your legs up onto the chair like you could shrink out of existence if you tried hard enough.

prime target. textbook girlfailure behavior. he could spot it from a mile away.

this was supposed to be easy.

he’d start small. nothing too intense. just a little white knight routine—softboy edition. give you just enough attention to get you spinning. love-bomb in casual doses. trauma-dump-lite over late-night fries. maybe let his voice go quiet and vulnerable one evening and say, “you remind me of someone i cared about.” glance away, bite his lip, look just the right amount of broken. play the victim just enough to make you feel like you had to fix him.

he’d make you think he saw you. that he understood you.

except you, with your messy hair and oversized hoodie sleeves pulled over twitchy fingers, dodged every single one of his perfectly curated attempts like your avoidant attachment style was running military-grade defense protocols.

“you okay, sweetheart?” he asked one afternoon, leaning a little too close to your desk, silver hair slightly tousled, reading glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, his voice low and silky. lips curved into a smile that’d made stronger girls fold. “you looked a little sad today. i worry about you sometimes.”

you blinked up at him, lashes fluttering like you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. your throat worked around a half-swallowed gulp. then your face shifted. shutters slammed down. you forced a grin, lopsided and sharp around the edges.

“yeah, i’m just like this. it’s seasonal depression, but, y’know… year-round. i’m fine.”

you said it so matter-of-factly. like he was asking about the weather.

satoru froze, his hand briefly twitching near his glasses as he pushed them up slowly, searching for meaning in a world that had suddenly gone sideways.

what the actual hell.

okay. maybe you needed more.

he started sitting next to you in class. always coincidentally. elbows brushing, knees knocking. his thigh warm where it grazed yours. he sent you memes at 1:37 a.m. with captions like “us fr?” and “ur literally me,” despite you barely replying to half of them. he offered his jacket when the AC kicked on and watched the way you hesitated, blushed, and then said, “i run on spite, not warmth.”

and then, the pièce de résistance:

“i just feel like… you’re different,” he said one evening outside the library. the campus was quiet, sky the kind of inky navy that made everything feel more cinematic. he stood with hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, a calculated slouch, glasses slightly askew, hair falling across his forehead. his voice dipped low, coaxing. “everyone else is so fake. but you? you’re real. you’ve got this… broken, beautiful thing going on.”

you tilted your head. stared. then squinted at him like he was a suspiciously priced antique. “did you get that line off tiktok?”

he flinched.

bro.

he ran a hand through his hair. a slow, dramatic drag of fingers. girls walking by giggled. he didn’t look up. he was malfunctioning.

he was trying. actually trying. not just running a script. not just playing games. he was pulling every page from the softboy manipulator playbook and rewriting it with style. the gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss starter pack, optimized for 2025.

and still. you met his carefully calculated charm with self-deprecating jokes, sarcasm, and the kind of deadpan delivery that made him question if he was losing it.

“you should save that line for someone without warranty issues,” you said, staring at him with a crooked little smile. “i come pre-broken.”

he left that encounter walking in slow motion, hoodie sleeves dragged over his hands, mouth set in a pout. if a sad indie movie montage started playing around him, he wouldn’t have questioned it.

here’s the thing, though: you liked him.

it was obvious.

he saw it in the way your gaze flickered to his mouth when he talked. the way your fingers curled tight around your notebook when he leaned in too close. the way your breath hitched just slightly when he used your name in a sentence. you were down bad.

but you were also your own worst enemy.

years of romantic misfires and silent yearning had turned you into a master of avoidance. you would rather make a joke about your emotional damage than let someone touch your heart. rather ghost your feelings than face them.

and it was frying his entire nervous system.

one night, 2:14 a.m., satoru lay on his bed staring at your latest post: a blurry picture of your cat with the caption “me.” it had two likes.

he stared at it longer than any man should. took a screenshot. set it as his lock screen for five minutes. unironically laughed.

then groaned and stuffed his face into his pillow.

“no,” he muttered. “no. she’s the one who canceled our group study session with ‘sorry i’m busy disappointing my ancestors.’”

and yet.

he kept thinking about the way your voice dropped to a whisper when you didn’t think anyone was listening. the way you fiddled with your sleeves when you were nervous. how you always sat at the edge of a group like you weren’t sure you belonged there.

you never clung to him. never fed into his savior complex. never let him be the one who "fixed" you.

and for some reason, that made him want to try harder.

not because it was a game anymore. because… well. because you were infuriating. weird. unpredictable. not like the others. god, maybe you were even kind of funny.

whatever. it wasn’t that deep.

gojo satoru: male manipulator dodged by the one girl who wanted him back… just enough to sabotage it.

and now he’s the one thinking way too hard about someone who won’t even sit next to him two days in a row.

he doesn’t like you.

he just… finds you interesting.

that’s all.

shut up.