#little rot

[lgbtqreads]

New Releases: June 18, 2024

A Shore Thing by Joanna Lowell Former painter and unreformed rake Kit Griffith is forging a new life in Cornwall, choosing freedom over an identity that didn’t fit. He knew that leaving his Sisterhood of women artists might mean forfeiting artistic community forever. He didn’t realize he would lose his ability to paint altogether. Luckily, he has other talents. Why not devote himself to selling…

[noskinoffmylabia]

reading really fucked up books is the best. nothing like finishing one and going “that was amazing - I can’t wait to NEVER tell ANYONE else to read that lest they send me to the mental ward”

anyway read Little Rot - it’s fucking good and I’ve already got my grippy socks on

[iambic-stan]

Little Rot

I just finished Akwaeke Emezi's new novel, Little Rot, and let me just say that even though I could barely put it down and it has a striking cover, I will not be pairing it with a stethoscope on this blog lol. I have such strong feelings about things and in the last 20 pages or so, I thought oh this is going nowhere near any stethoscopes. It was graphic and disturbing and there was really no hope. There are so many things in my head now that never really needed to be there. Picking up a lighter teen novel to read next, tbh. Emezi is still really something, though--I'm still going to read whatever they publish next.

[elenichr]

Year of Lists

July Books

She a long one

I also left this so late, I don't remember much

The Trespasser by Tana French - don't remember anything about this, just that I enjoyed speeding through it. I think Tana French's work has that quality of quiet enjoyment to it. A small break from reality - so a 3*? (that's my goodreads rating anw)

Μαμά by Μαργαρίτα Καραπάνου *4.7/5 - this, I do remember. It's a quick read, much of Karapanou is; none of it is light and this one is darker and more complex than most. It's a melee of the writer's relationship with/memory of her mother. Vignettes, impressions, memories, snippets of a life lived, felt or imagined. Karapanou was a remarkable artist, and boy, could she weave a sentence.

I'm Not Here to Give a Speech by Gabriel García Márquez *4.5/5 - delightful; just a neat little collection of speeches. Isn't it funny how gifted some people are at things they don't really enjoy doing?

American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang *5/5 - nothing to see here. Love all around. <3 <3

Tokyo Express by Seichō Matsumoto *3.5/5 - this was yummy. If you find oldish, matter-of-fact writing, noir-type police procedurals with limited but astute action delicious, this is for you.

Girl Goddess Queen by Bea Fitzgerald *4/5 - okay. Hear me out.

*sidenote* This is Lore Olympus in novel form. So much so that I wondered if Bea Fitzgerald wasn't a pen name for Rachel Smythe and vice versa.

--

Was it repetitive, occasionally annoyingly so? Yes. Did I think it could have benefitted from better editing? Yes. Did I obsess over it and think about the characters and the slow-burn romance of it all for at least a week? Yes. Did I buy Bea Fitzgerald's new novel a day into publication and can't wait to read it but I'm travelling a lot and didn't want to carry it cause it's huge? Yes. Did it make me hyperfixate on finding the epic romance of the decade - the century even, the book that makes your knees tremble, to no avail? Yes.

I loved this. I loved this so so much, flaws and all.

*sidenote, again* Madeline Miller rewriting Persephone too - would love to read that version

The Familiar by Leigh Bardugo - like a 3*. It's not something that sticks but it's readable and you do care when you're reading it. One thing I can say for certain, I was sure I wanted to read more Leigh Bardugo, and I have, since reading this, spent a lot of time on deciding what that'll be. (Six of Crows, probably this Autumn, early Winter)

Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi *3.7/5 - It's a good narrative from a very talented writer/artist, whose work I've admired from the get-go and will continue to consume either til the end, or til the potentially inevitable decline. The .7 purely on talent.

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong - deets on this with the sequel which I read in August - and it's a lot

[wttnblog]

June 2024 Book Releases You'll Love to Read

Happy June! and Happy Pride Month! I’m delighted to share this list of new books—there’s so many big names and even more queer content that I can’t wait to read. While I won’t be able to get through all of them, I am hoping to get my hands on at least a few. Let me know if you’ve read any and what books you’ll be putting on hold at your local library! Wish You Weren’t Here Author: Erin…

[feelslikesugarinme777]

[books-i-once-read]

She was going to be illegible to her parents again, and it would have hurt, but right now she was illegible to herself, and that hurt more.

Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi

[real-liz-zing]

Summer Read #5

[11hearstrings]

i’m currently reading little rot and it is queer as fuck and west african as fuck - Akwaeke Emezi is a fucking lightning strike of an author and everything I hope to be. but little rot feels so completely in line with where I’m at in life ESPECIALLY in my pursuit of pleasure shared with other black women and nbs, with poc too. we do not need white people to Queer things up for us, we have always been here. hedonistic and nasty and inventing types of play white queers could never dream of.

overlook that mild overshare to focus on my main point of: I love when you find a piece of media that only means so much because of the point in your life at which it came to you, how easily it can settle into the gaps formed during the process of your becoming.

[reginalusus]

Not these two again (I will do it again).

Ummmm, soon-to-be father-son angst or something.

Jason's line after this was originally: "I don't need a lecture from the guy who swapped his scales and sword for cigarettes and guns," but I have other stuff I wanna move on to and the frames kinda got fucked, sooo.

Ko-Fi.

[starrsade]

mannn little rot was a messy ass ride but the clarity i gained from it? superb

[pseudowho]

18+, touch-starved, 'waiting' gentleman Nanami Kento, male masturbation over the clothes

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"But...does this count?" you whispered against Nanami Kento's neck, your hand trailing down to the curved tenting at the front of his tan trousers. He jolted, grunting, involuntarily bucking against your palm.

He was a gentleman; one who waited; one who longed. Certainly not one to turn his back on due diligence, and favouring flowers over fondling. Any girlfriend whom he intended to become his wife, would only be taken by him after a societally appropriate time.

But how long would this be? With you, a day felt like a month; a month, years. With how you smiled against his throat, he knew, from every twitch of his touch-starved body, that even a gentleman may meet his resolve's end sooner than planned.

"It...it counts," Kento choked, his body betraying him to roll his hips and the straining underside of his cock up against your palm. "I...I shouldn't. You deserve-- deserve--"

"...deserve to know the face of your pleasure, before you come inside me?" Kento froze, paralysed by the honesty, the filth of your words. He felt his cock twitch beneath your palm when you spoke again, lower this time. "Yes. Yes, I do. So..."

"I-- I don't-- haaaah," Kento cried, hoarse and breathy, for a twitch almost as bone-deep as one when he spilled himself, shivered through his length. He felt the dribble of pre-cum soak through his trousers; he saw it, too, the sticky fluid staining the pale material to beige. You felt it, too; you saw it, too. Kento knew he was a goner, when you bit your lip beneath dilating pupils.

You cupped your hand around the length of his cock, moulding his boxers and trousers to his shape, and slowly, rhythmically, beginning to jack him off through his clothes. Kento humped up desperately, dishevelled and panting, and touch-starved, so touch-starved--

"Feels good?" you whispered, suckling his throat to leave rose petals on his skin. Kento only groaned; husky, shuddering, coming undone embarrassingly quickly. Touch without touch was so illicit, so debauched, for one so corseted as he.

"Feels...feels...like I'm going to come in my boxers like a boy--" Kento growled, tangling his fingers through your hair to keep your lips on his throat.

"Would that be so bad?" you murmured against his pulse point, your tongue dipping out to taste the desperation off his skin. Your hand sped up, gliding around the length of him.

Your eyes closed to imagine it was his bare cock in your hand, instead. Your eyes closed, to imagine how the shape of him would fit every plush facet of your insides. You shivered; Kento moaned. You felt him hardening even further; felt the ghost of veins, standing proud, winding around his cock like desire paths.

The gentleman was gone, now; the needy remained.

"Don't stop," panted Kento, fucking up into your palm with every smooth masturbatory motion that your hand made around him, "--just--just like that-- don't stop-- I...I'll..."

Trailing your lips from his jaw to his mouth, you pressed a chaste little peck to his lips; but it was when your tongue swiped over his lower lip, that he met his undoing.

Your hand pumped only two more fabric-frictioned long pumps...before Kento held his breath. His jaw dropped in a silent gasp. His hand tightened in your hair, the other pressing dimples into the divot of your waist. And you felt him spill.

Kento moaned with every twitch of his cock, leaping and spurting beneath tan confines. You watched, fascinated, to see him come apart with each bucking spill, each deepening stain that spread beneath his clothes. His face, twisted in divine agony, would be seated into your mind until he took you, pinned and begging his name, for the first time.

"--f-fuck...o-ooohhh f-fuck...p-pathetic...so pathetic--"

"--hot, actually--"

A rough, gravelly cough; a mirthless laugh, with his final weak spatters of cum.

"...you...will be the end of me...I swear on my life..."

Kento opened one slim, brown eye, regarding your gleeful lip-biting with a huff. He had almost pulled himself together...until you dipped down to the cum-stain on his crotch, and fixed your mouth around it, sucking through the saturated fabric and dipping out your tongue to taste him.

Kento whimpered, bucking weakly against your lips, for you had broken him once, and twice, and now thrice, and he wondered how he would ever survive--

"...taste amazing, Kento."

Four times. Kento flipped you beneath him, pinning you to the sofa with sadistic satisfaction at the look of shock on your face.

He blew upwards, wisping commas of blond off his sweaty forehead. He curled one long finger into his tie, loosening it with one violent tug.

"I've had enough of you, madam. If you won't treat me like a gentleman, then I shan't be."

[honibunii]

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[iambic-stan]

The actual author reblogging my last post was not something I saw coming at all. Now I feel guilty and sheepish like I was critical of their novel because I didn't feature their work in the way that I have others' on here. But it was really difficult to read and it fucked with me a lot. I know they meant for it to, though.

[notnotravenpond]

going through divorce with the entity in my head

[butterscotchcakee]