Every single type of student in Hartley library
Because you never really know somebody until you’ve seen them in Sméagol-mode smuggling all the course collections
Clearly the "beauty" part of this name is an utter lie, as all we get is this stale lump of a human blanketed by their own dribble. Would be fair to think "awwwww… they are working so hard". Nah. We are talking the same group of people in there all day – do they even have a place to live? Do they even go here? Or do they just want a place to snooze?
Lads lads ladsssss
They probably wear their Varsity clothes in the shower and kiss the mirror every morning before leaving Connaught (because they can't look after themselves). They are still under the illusion that they aren't actually paying for uni out their own pocket, but that they're still in Year 11 as they desperately wait for the free time to drink lukewarm cider in the park. If you need to find them, just listen for unevolved hooting and stories about how they urinated pure Quad-vods.
They do Marketing or Psychology. Their foundation is thicker than a law school textbook and they wear heels even to their 9ams. Call them the female equivalents to the lads, as they all crowd around the round table like they're in Camelot to talk about their latest Tinder hook-up and which flatmate they're gonna bang next.
You better not need a wee during your study sesh, these vultures will circle your seat like flies on dog shit. £1,000 Macbook and four textbooks? Swept onto the floor as they salivate and cling on to the golden rarity of a library seat for dear life. Twice the passion if it's a seat with a plug socket.
Daddy paid for them to get in when they missed the grade, and they probably do a super employable subject like Medicine. If you can see them behind the artfully arranged, expensive but never-opened textbooks, you'll be lucky enough to get to hear all about how in the womb they were solving quadratic equations. They may be a first year but they already have a grad job lined up after their PHD which, naturally, the uni are paying for as they love them so much. Rules don't apply to them: they can bring food to level five and talk in the Quiet Zone and there's NOTHING you can do about it.
What is sunlight? They haven't seen it in two days, and solely rely on the vending machine to give them their three square meals a day. Their natural habitat is under a dam of crisp packets. You may not see these creatures right away, but the smell will soon lead you to notice their dark and soulless eyes.
Um, excuse me? You're breathing a bit too loudly in the Quiet Study Zone. It's surprising they can move so fast with that giant rod up their arse, but they smell happiness like sharks smell blood and will not hesitate to enforce the rules that nobody else follows. Maybe if they spent a bit less time being the Guardian of the Library they would have more time to do work and, in turn, not be failing their degree?